Saturday, May 13, 2006
First Spanking, part two
When we last left our hero, he had been found in a compromising position in his neighbor's shed. His Neighbor Gorgeous was contemplating his fate.
She thought for a bit. At last, she said, "Let's go into the house." I followed her into her house and down into the basement, which had been transformed into a nice, neat little workbench-type area. She motioned me to a stool by the bench, and I took a seat. She had regained her composure, so we had a nice little chat about appropriate places for doing certain activities of a personal nature. She was actually very friendly and straightforward. She didn't lecture and she didn't condemn, nor did she accuse me of being a freak or a pervert.
After our chat finished, she asked, "Is your mother home?" I got a little nervous at this point because my mother was not as enlightened as Neighbor Gorgeous.
"No," I responded. "She and my sister went clothes shopping at the Mall. They'll be gone a while."
"No, matter," she said. "She doesn't need to know about this anyway."
She paused and looked around. "However, I can't just let you off scott-free. You do need to be held accountable." She paused again, and then she dropped the 100-megaton bomb. "I' m going to whip your ass!"
For the second time that afternoon, I stared at her with a dumb look on my face. Was she proposing to spank me? This was a teenage spanko's dream! To be taken over her knee and have my bare bottom firmly warmed by this beautiful woman, perhaps with a classic wooden hairhbrush. Then she'd give me a long, forgiving embrace, and rub my poor, sore bum. Naturally, the embrace would melt into first a polite kiss, then a passionate one, then we'd have wild, panting, sweaty monkey sex on the workbench!
Well, I got one, maybe two things right.
I gave her my best gentlemen's response. "Huh?" I said. Ok, maybe not my best response.
"You heard me," she said. She went over to the workbench and took a long brush, the kind you use to clean off an outdoor grill, off of a hook. It wasn't wood, it was plastic, but it had a long handle and a nice, hard, fair-sized head. She tapped it on her hand a couple of times and turned back to me. "Let's get this over with. Stand up and turn around. And take down your pants!"
I did the first two commands forthwith, but paused a bit with the pants. I wasn't sure, but this seemed to be getting a little weird. I looked back at her, quizically. "Go ahead," was all she said. No sense dragging this out, I thought. I dropped trou. Since I was still shirtless, I stood before, basically naked. My member, figuring that discretion was the better part of valor, had taken refuge in its shell.
"Now bend over the stool." I complied. She gently pressed down on my back until I was perpendicular, with my stomach resting on the seat of the stool. She did not speak another word. She tapped each cheek of my buttocks twice, then got to work.
I was spanked well and thoroughly that day. The first swat took my breath away, but she didn't bother to pause to let it sink in. She proceeded to methodically and completely beat my butt. At first I was determined to stay still and not make any noise. That lasted maybe five swats. I didn't blubber or make a spectacle of myself, but I did squirm and dance around a lot. She put her hand firmly on the middle of my back to keep my butt in place. I whimpered a lot, grunted a few times, and had a small shout escape a couple of times when she'd hit especially tender spots. She spend most of the time concentrating on the prominent, fleshy parts of of my poor bare butt, but delivered a goodly number of swats to the top, bottom, and sides as well. The pain increased until all I could do was grit my teeth, stiffen my back, close my eyes tightly, and endure the punishment.
When she at last stopped, I let out a long, whistling sigh. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Jesus, that HURT! I said.
"No, shit," she responded. Who know such a soft looking lady had such a potty mouth. "I hope that teaches you not to invade other peoples' property to engage in your private activities."
"It sure does," I said as I started to get up. She put her hand in the middle of my back and pushed me back over the stool. "Now this is for scaring the shit out of me!"
She started paddling me again. This time she didn't go as fast as before, but she was swinging harder. She concentrated exclusively on the center and lower part of both cheeks. I didn't do much wiggling this time, just tensed up and settled in to absorb the punishment that I had fantasized about for years. The second spanking didn't sting as much, but made the pain deeper and more lasting.
I realized later that the first spanking was to create maximum discomfort at that instant, and the second one was to generate maximum discomfort for several days afterwards. She succeeded on both counts.
This time when she finished, she tossed the brush on the workbench and walked a little away. She was panting a bit. "Stand up and pull your pants up," she said. I did so, and turned around. "Have a seat if you'd like."
"No thanks, I think I'll just stand," I responded, figuring that I'd have a little mercy on my seat. The stinging had stopped, but my butt throbbed considerably and felt like it was 1000 degrees and twice it's normal size.
The rest of my fantasy quickly went out the window, much to my surprising relief. There was no hug, no comforting, no monkey sex. Just a pregnant pause as we both tried to find a convenient way to get me the hell out of that house. I had finally realized that I was an idiot, just assuming that I could hide out in their shed without knowng them, and engaging in my hobby that was more proper in a place of my own. She must have felt invaded and she was understandably angry. This was not a sexual fantasy. It was her way to take her emotions out on the person who had upset her, and it seemed appropriate.
Finally, she said, "As far as I'm concerned, this little situation is finished. I'm not going to tell your parents what happened. Let's just leave it right here and move on with our lives. I just hope you learned your lesson." I had.
I grew up a lot that day. I learned a lot of things. Number one, I was definitely a spanko. While the paddling had hurt like hell and I did not wish to repeat it with her, I also had enjoyed it. The pain that lingered on my buns for several days would give me a warm, comfortable feeling. I also realized that, at nineteen, I was an adult. Fantasies were just that. They couldn't happen in real life. If I wanted to have a sex life, I had to pursue it with real women in real situations. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to indulge my spanking proclivities again, but I knew that if I wanted to, it would have to be with someone I loved, or at least liked an awful lot at the time.
We never spoke of the incident again. While I was away at school that next year, Neighbor Gorgeous became with child, so she and her handsome husband moved away to a house with a bigger lot so their kid could have lots of room to play outside. I was kind of glad she moved so that I'd never have to worry about being uncomfortable around her. And, until I met Angela, I never told anyone about my first spanking that I got from Neighbor Gorgeous.
But I never forgot her.
She thought for a bit. At last, she said, "Let's go into the house." I followed her into her house and down into the basement, which had been transformed into a nice, neat little workbench-type area. She motioned me to a stool by the bench, and I took a seat. She had regained her composure, so we had a nice little chat about appropriate places for doing certain activities of a personal nature. She was actually very friendly and straightforward. She didn't lecture and she didn't condemn, nor did she accuse me of being a freak or a pervert.
After our chat finished, she asked, "Is your mother home?" I got a little nervous at this point because my mother was not as enlightened as Neighbor Gorgeous.
"No," I responded. "She and my sister went clothes shopping at the Mall. They'll be gone a while."
"No, matter," she said. "She doesn't need to know about this anyway."
She paused and looked around. "However, I can't just let you off scott-free. You do need to be held accountable." She paused again, and then she dropped the 100-megaton bomb. "I' m going to whip your ass!"
For the second time that afternoon, I stared at her with a dumb look on my face. Was she proposing to spank me? This was a teenage spanko's dream! To be taken over her knee and have my bare bottom firmly warmed by this beautiful woman, perhaps with a classic wooden hairhbrush. Then she'd give me a long, forgiving embrace, and rub my poor, sore bum. Naturally, the embrace would melt into first a polite kiss, then a passionate one, then we'd have wild, panting, sweaty monkey sex on the workbench!
Well, I got one, maybe two things right.
I gave her my best gentlemen's response. "Huh?" I said. Ok, maybe not my best response.
"You heard me," she said. She went over to the workbench and took a long brush, the kind you use to clean off an outdoor grill, off of a hook. It wasn't wood, it was plastic, but it had a long handle and a nice, hard, fair-sized head. She tapped it on her hand a couple of times and turned back to me. "Let's get this over with. Stand up and turn around. And take down your pants!"
I did the first two commands forthwith, but paused a bit with the pants. I wasn't sure, but this seemed to be getting a little weird. I looked back at her, quizically. "Go ahead," was all she said. No sense dragging this out, I thought. I dropped trou. Since I was still shirtless, I stood before, basically naked. My member, figuring that discretion was the better part of valor, had taken refuge in its shell.
"Now bend over the stool." I complied. She gently pressed down on my back until I was perpendicular, with my stomach resting on the seat of the stool. She did not speak another word. She tapped each cheek of my buttocks twice, then got to work.
I was spanked well and thoroughly that day. The first swat took my breath away, but she didn't bother to pause to let it sink in. She proceeded to methodically and completely beat my butt. At first I was determined to stay still and not make any noise. That lasted maybe five swats. I didn't blubber or make a spectacle of myself, but I did squirm and dance around a lot. She put her hand firmly on the middle of my back to keep my butt in place. I whimpered a lot, grunted a few times, and had a small shout escape a couple of times when she'd hit especially tender spots. She spend most of the time concentrating on the prominent, fleshy parts of of my poor bare butt, but delivered a goodly number of swats to the top, bottom, and sides as well. The pain increased until all I could do was grit my teeth, stiffen my back, close my eyes tightly, and endure the punishment.
When she at last stopped, I let out a long, whistling sigh. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Jesus, that HURT! I said.
"No, shit," she responded. Who know such a soft looking lady had such a potty mouth. "I hope that teaches you not to invade other peoples' property to engage in your private activities."
"It sure does," I said as I started to get up. She put her hand in the middle of my back and pushed me back over the stool. "Now this is for scaring the shit out of me!"
She started paddling me again. This time she didn't go as fast as before, but she was swinging harder. She concentrated exclusively on the center and lower part of both cheeks. I didn't do much wiggling this time, just tensed up and settled in to absorb the punishment that I had fantasized about for years. The second spanking didn't sting as much, but made the pain deeper and more lasting.
I realized later that the first spanking was to create maximum discomfort at that instant, and the second one was to generate maximum discomfort for several days afterwards. She succeeded on both counts.
This time when she finished, she tossed the brush on the workbench and walked a little away. She was panting a bit. "Stand up and pull your pants up," she said. I did so, and turned around. "Have a seat if you'd like."
"No thanks, I think I'll just stand," I responded, figuring that I'd have a little mercy on my seat. The stinging had stopped, but my butt throbbed considerably and felt like it was 1000 degrees and twice it's normal size.
The rest of my fantasy quickly went out the window, much to my surprising relief. There was no hug, no comforting, no monkey sex. Just a pregnant pause as we both tried to find a convenient way to get me the hell out of that house. I had finally realized that I was an idiot, just assuming that I could hide out in their shed without knowng them, and engaging in my hobby that was more proper in a place of my own. She must have felt invaded and she was understandably angry. This was not a sexual fantasy. It was her way to take her emotions out on the person who had upset her, and it seemed appropriate.
Finally, she said, "As far as I'm concerned, this little situation is finished. I'm not going to tell your parents what happened. Let's just leave it right here and move on with our lives. I just hope you learned your lesson." I had.
I grew up a lot that day. I learned a lot of things. Number one, I was definitely a spanko. While the paddling had hurt like hell and I did not wish to repeat it with her, I also had enjoyed it. The pain that lingered on my buns for several days would give me a warm, comfortable feeling. I also realized that, at nineteen, I was an adult. Fantasies were just that. They couldn't happen in real life. If I wanted to have a sex life, I had to pursue it with real women in real situations. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to indulge my spanking proclivities again, but I knew that if I wanted to, it would have to be with someone I loved, or at least liked an awful lot at the time.
We never spoke of the incident again. While I was away at school that next year, Neighbor Gorgeous became with child, so she and her handsome husband moved away to a house with a bigger lot so their kid could have lots of room to play outside. I was kind of glad she moved so that I'd never have to worry about being uncomfortable around her. And, until I met Angela, I never told anyone about my first spanking that I got from Neighbor Gorgeous.
But I never forgot her.
Comments:
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OK, I know that story is imaginary. It's just too far-out. But I think everything that I've read so far with "Angela" is real, though I hope the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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# posted by 
: August 25, 2010 11:13 PM
: August 25, 2010 11:13 PM << Home
