Confessions of a young spanko
This is a detailed exploration beginning with my 1st spanking thought and leads to the 1st spanking I ever gave. There are detailed accounts of childhood spankings that I witnessed, if you do not care for such things, stop reading. Every word is 100% true, with no embellishment.
There is often the debate of nature vs. nurture and how we become the kinky little spankos which we have all grown to be. There is no doubt that this is something I was born with, as I was into spanking before I ever saw one administered or felt one myself. I thought I would try a blog post that revisits my history as a horny little Michael Masterson, running around as a kid, exploring my spanking thoughts.
My childhood memories are always grouped based on where I lived, and what grades I was in at that home. This makes it difficult to give an exact age of any given early memory and tends to put things into 3-4 year blocks. I know my earliest childhood spanking thoughts came to me around the 2nd or 3rd grade. This was the early 70’s, in California, not too far from Stanford University. Many of the kids my age were born to hippie parents, and being in the bay area in the early 70’s, spanking was not all that prevalent in my neighborhood. There were a brother and sister that lived on my street that I knew were spanked, but only because the girl once told me, with a big smile on her face, that her mom had broken a wooden spoon on her brother’s butt. I was not personally spanked by my parents, with the exception of maybe 3-4 times I can think of in which I got a single swat to the bottom for doing something that seemed dangerous, like walking into the street without looking.
But at this same age, with no personal experience with spanking, having never witnessed a spanking, and having never had anyone really describe a spanking to me, there was no doubt the idea excited me. It was not a sexual thing at such an early age, but I was certainly interested. I used to have punishment based “fantasies” which I know occurred in the 3rd grade or maybe a year before. I would picture a girl that annoyed the hell out of me, in my school, having her dress lifted and then spanked by a teacher, on the playground, in front of everyone. I do believe these thoughts were responsible for my earliest erections that came about as a result of something in my mind. There were many variations of this fantasy, but it was always a public spanking of a girl, she was always spanked to tears, and there were generally kids watching the whole thing take place with smiles and giggles.
The next big event to hit me regarding spanking occurred a few years later, when I was in around the 5th grade. My dad always had playboy and penthouse magazines in his room and as a curious boy; I visited these magazines whenever I had the house to myself. On one such occasion I came across an old school spanking picture that showed three girls in a classroom, bottoms bared, two looking as though they had just been spanked, and one bent over waiting to be spanked (this picture was a central feature in the newspaper cover story that was done about me years ago http://www.westword.com/2005-05-19/music/spanks-for-the-memories/). A teacher sat before them with a yardstick in her hand prepared to spank the last girl. This was my Holy Shit moment regarding spanking as I realized that I was not alone in this world. If this old black and white picture depicting spanking existed in an adult magazine, then others must feel the same as I do. In addition, the picture seemed very old, so not only must other people feel the same as I do, this must have been the case for a very long time. This picture became such a central focus of my life that I did not wait for my parents to be out of the house and would sneak in and look at it as often as possible. As I dug deeper into the magazines, I started reading Penthouse Forum and discovered that couples seemed to sometimes integrate sex with spanking. I could barely wait for a new issue to arrive and now I always started with Forum, well before I ever looked at the naked girls.
Fast forward a couple of years, to 1981, the year we moved to Texas, a place that would really open my eyes to how spanking exists in the real world. This would also lead to me witnessing my 1st spanking ever. I had lived in Texas for less than 2 months and had not yet started my 1st year of junior high. A younger boy in the neighborhood invited me to go with his family to a local lake for the weekend, for RV camping and waterskiing. It sounded like fun, my parents said yes, so off we went. We stayed in a group campground, with close to a dozen other families, that all seemed to do this together on a regular basis. We had a fun weekend, I learned to waterski, and it is pretty much what you would expect from a large social gathering in the woods with a bunch of Texans. On Sunday morning, we were cleaning up the campsite, as the adults were taking down pop-up campers, and trailering boats. A boy came up from the beach and said that someone fishing had caught a water moccasin on his line. We ran down to see it and he really had hooked a huge snake and we were excited to see it. Several minutes later my friends little sister came down and said “dad is looking for you…and he is mad”. We had been forbidden, on day one, to go to the water without an adult present, but we had not been swimming, simply looking, so I figured it was not a big deal. When we walked back up to the campsite, I figured out very quickly it was a big deal. His dad, a big hulking truck driver, grabbed his son by his shoulder and dragged him over to a big concrete picnic table in the center of the group camp site and bent him over the end of the bench. He then pulled off his sandal, ones that I had noticed earlier in the trip, as the bottom was made from a tire tread. He then proceeded to apply the 1st spanking I had ever witnessed. This was a good old boy Texas style spanking and I have to admit it was pretty bad. With at least 20 men, women, and children watching he proceeded to give the kind of spanking that was very clearly designed to completely eliminate any future bad behavior. He spanked hard and fast and it lasted more than a minute. My friend was screaming and crying from the 1st swat, but it did not matter. This seemed common enough in this group that no one pretended not to watch, people simply stopped what they were doing to watch a good old fashioned butt blistering take place. I was less than ten feet away and just started picking up cigarette butts off the ground and putting them in the trash. I wondered if I was next, but I was not, and I was very thankful. When it was over my friend bounced up and down, screaming and hollering, and rubbing his butt and I have no doubt that his butt was black and blue from the experience.
That was my introduction to what a real spanking was all about and I knew that I wanted nothing to do with being on the receiving end. The next big shocker to me came a few weeks later on the 1st day of 7th grade. As was the tradition, the day starts with all the girls going to the gym to meet with the female VP and the boys go to the cafeteria to meet with the male VP. It is basically a discussion about doing your best, school rules, and eventually about discipline. At some point the male VP produced a large wooden paddle and said, as of this year it is back. It turns out that due to a lawsuit a few years before, this school had been paddle free, but with it all behind them and no wrong doing having been found, it was policy again. When he 1st held up the paddle, I honestly did not know what he meant as I had never attended a school in which there was corporal punishment, nor did I know that this happened in any school, anywhere. As he was holding it up to the cafeteria full of boys, I asked the kid next to me, “What does he do with that”? He kind of laughed at me and said, “He busts your ass good”. My heart started racing as a realized that getting in trouble in school could not only result in being spanked, but spanked with a big ass board. Texas was indeed was quite a different place. That paddle scared me enough that I managed to avoid it, all three years of middle school. I once had a ten day on campus suspension, which left me in a room, next to the VP’s office and I was able to hear several paddlings take place. They sounded like gunshots going off and there was nothing ornamental about them. He really did “bust their butts good”, and on a couple of occasions I could hear boys crying on the other side of the wall.
But at this point in my life, my focus was still about girls being spanked. My fantasies had still not really gotten to the point of wanting to spank a girl; I wanted to see a girl get spanked. When I fantasized in my head, I was always a witness, or a voyeur to a teen girl getting a spanking. I would take that instance at the lake and replace it with a girl from my neighborhood, always a cute one, with a perfect little butt. Or I would imagine those same school paddlings, but with a girl in his office, in her tight little Texas style jeans getting paddled.
I had quickly realized in the new small Texas town that I lived in that spanking was a way of life. It seemed every kid my age, or younger was still spanked. Although no one really called it a spanking, it was always a “whuppin”. As far as I could tell, there was not a single kid in the neighborhood, male or female, that did not get their butts spanked with a belt from mom, dad, or both on occasion. It was simply a fact of life and while it was often hard to get the details I so wanted to hear, they were not all that embarrassed to mention that they got a whuppin the night before. It became fuel for my fantasies as I realized all of the neighbor girls, at some point or another, had to bend over for a session with the belt.
Later in my 7th grade year, I made friend with a kid in the neighborhood and we became best friends. From 7th grade until I finished high school, there was not a day I did not spend at his house. His very cute sister was one year younger than me, and it was her frequent bad behavior that allowed me my first experience with a girl getting spanked. It happened just a few weeks into the friendship, when on one Saturday night, I knocked on the door, and after close to a minute, my friend and his sister finally opened the door. I said the standard “can you come out and play” and he had a very concerned look on his face. She said, with a big smile on her face “we are about to get our whuppins, but he can probably come out after, just come back in 15 minutes”. It was clear that she was trying to play it up to him that she did not care at all that she was about to be spanked. The spanking was going to be a result of them always fighting and arguing, so she was still trying to get the best of him by acting like it was no big deal. He told me that he did not think he would come back out that night and that he would see me in the morning.
My heart was racing when they closed the door and I was not sure what to do, but I knew what I had to do was see her get spanked. His bedroom window faced the front of the house and hers the side. I ran over to the side of the house, but she had her blinds closed. There were those types of bamboo blinds that rolled down, but they were made of individual bamboo slats, to there was a little room to see between them. It was not the best view in the world, but it would have to do. I saw her sitting on the edge of her bed and the smile was clearly gone. Her little act was over now that she was alone and she just sat there and waited. I was startled when I heard the cracks of the belt and the crying coming from the front of the house. I was so nervous and my hands were trembling. When the spanking started in the other room, her body language changed in a very big way, and she sat up straight on the bed and looked around nervously. Less than 30 seconds later her bedroom door opened and her step dad walked in with a heavy leather belt in his hand. She started to plead with him a little and he said what sounded like “just turn around”. She stood up, turned around, and as soon as her hands touched the edge of the bed he started swinging. It was not a slow and deliberate strapping; he swung hard and a little wildly, smacking her ass and the back of her legs, over her tight jeans. He only gave her seven strokes with the belt, but it was enough to do the job. She was screaming and crying just as loud as her brother had, and after the last stroke, he just left the room and closed the door. She collapsed onto the bed, crying hard, and I ran as fast as I could towards my house. I finally stopped running as it seemed my heart was going to explode. It was a lot of information to process and my mind was racing with various emotions. For a 7th grade boy, having just watched a fairly severe strapping of a girl he had a bit of a crush on, it was a lot to process.
Over the next couple of years, I would hear her getting spanked several more times, but I never got to see another one. As I became pretty much a fixture in their home, I was just part of the family. If my friend was in trouble, or they were both in trouble, I would be sent home so the issues could be dealt with. But there were occasions, in which she was the only one in trouble, and I would be sitting in the family room when her whuppin took place. The first time this happened, it also led to a discovery, something that had been right under my nose, all of this time, which I never noticed. It was late one night, I was spending the night, and my friend, his mom, step-dad, and I were watching a movie on HBO. It was clear from a few words exchanged by the parents that his sister was quite late in getting home. Eventually the front door opened, and she walked right past the family room and went right to her bedroom. The step dad asked the mom “want me to get in there with the belt”, to which she replied “yep”. It was at this point that the new discovery was made. He stood up, and walked over to a stand that held a set of old school TV trays, which I had walked by 100’s of times. From that stand, he grabbed that same heavy leather belt that I had watched her get her butt torn up with and then he walked down the hall. I listened as what sounded like the same process I had watched before, took place just feet away from me through the walls. She took 4-5 strokes, the crying could be heard, there was a bit of a pause and a little garbled talking, then I heard her receive another 10. Her door opened and closed, he came back into the room, hung the belt on one of the trays, sat down and we continued with the movie as if nothing had happened. We did not see her again that night.
From this day forward, this belt hanging on a tray that I had never noticed before became quite the focus for me. Every chance I had, when someone was not in the room with me, I would grab the belt and hold it. It was a very heavy belt, and seemed to have some sort of inner leather to it, meaning it bulged out in spot like it was filled. It was a traditional Texas belt that had marking and carving in it. There was no buckle on it and it had a heavy crease in the middle. This belt had a single purpose and it had nothing to do with holding up pants. There was no doubt that it was effective and could only imagine what that must have felt like on her butt and thighs. Over my many years of friendship with both of them, I heard several whuppins taking place, the last one when I was a senior in high school, so she had to have been 16 or 17 at the time.
There was another girl in the neighborhood, who we hung out with on occasion during the summers, and she was also spanked. She was not embarrassed to talk about it and I pushed her for more information than I typically would someone else. As a young spanko, I always tried to get whatever details I could, but it had to come across as casual, like it was no big deal, like I really did not care. But in my head, I was screaming out dozens of questions, “how bad did it hurt”, “how many did you get”, “have you ever been spanked on the bare”, “did you cry”, “what did your butt look like”, “what position did you have to assume”, “did anyone else see it take place”, “how often does this happen”? But as someone who was nowhere close to telling anyone what I really thought about spanking, I had to remain casual. But with this one girl, who on one occasion gave me details when I had not really asked, I pushed my limits a little. It started one day, sitting in her living room, when her friend started teasing her about being spanked the night before. I said “no shit, what did she spank you with”? She simply pointed to the mantle above the fireplace, in which there were a dozen framed family photos. I asked her what she meant and she told me to look. Behind the framed photos that were propped up, there was a small piece of wood. It was nothing like a paddle; it was more the type of wood you would use for a yard sign. It was the same thickness as width and maybe 20 inches long. Written on it, with a ballpoint pen, it said “board of education”, I read it aloud and she said “yeaaa, my dad thought he was being clever”. I smacked it on my hand and said “ouch” in which she replied “yep”. I told her that I had never really been spanked and asked what it was like. She told me her mom always spanked her and that is sucked, but was better than being grounded. This conversation alone, sort of established an in, and I would ask her jokingly on occasion if the “board of education” had seen much use lately. It would get bits and pieces, here and there from her, enough to continue to fuel my fantasies.
I would have to guess that is was in my early years of high school that the thought of actually spanking a girl started to come into play. I can remember walking through the school halls, looking at the tight butts of the lovely girls, and starting to wonder what it would be like to spank them. While there was certainly a sexual element and excitement that went with these fantasies, my thoughts were strictly about spanking, and never combined sex and spanking. My fantasies began to change into a direction in which these girls I went to school with, were somehow really in trouble, and I was tasked with the job of punishing them. A general theme was one of them doing something very bad, that only I knew about, and for their dad or the police not to know, I had to take care of it. All of my fantasies, from the earliest ones, involved very real discipline, with much pain and crying, and always with a very sore butt for days. It has also always been very cause and effect related spanking and discipline. All my fantasies were based on a girl being in a lot of trouble, needing a very hard, but more importantly well-deserved punishment. It was important to me that the spanking she received she had fully earned.
It was around this point in my life that sex came into play for me. I was shy and was certainly not yet in a place in my life in which I was going to ask a girl to spank her. Plus, that was not really what I was looking for, just to administer a spanking; my fetish was not grounded in simply slapping a woman’s bottom, the spanking needed to be as a result of her actions. In the late 80’s in Texas there were not too many situations in which an 18 year old guy was punishing a young lady for her behavior. In college I had my 1st real long term relationship, which lasted 2 years. She was as vanilla as they come, but we did explore sexuality together. At her urging, one weekend when we had my parents’ house to ourselves, she suggested we buy some rope. We tied each other up and had much fun, but there was nothing all that dominant or submissive about it, it was more about teasing each other with lots of pleasure when the other person was restrained. After that relationship, I went onto a four year university, and kind of sewed my wild oats. I joined alternative type fraternity, made up of a sort of combination of hippy and biker type dudes, which also had a little sister organization. This was my party year indeed and for the 1st time in my life sex with many different women was quite easy to obtain.
It was during this time period that I had my first sort of sexually dominant experience. It was with a girl that I had been sleeping with on and off for a few weeks, nothing exclusive, but whenever we found ourselves at the same party, she tended to come home with me. She was a very fun girl, and one of the most sexually open-minded girls I had had the pleasure to be with up until that point. She was the first girl that would openly masturbate in front of me, just to get me excited, or just because she felt the need. She had flirted and teased with the thought of me tying her up, until one night it was pretty much a full on dare. While she was in the shower of my little apartment, I gathered a couple of neck ties, and whatever I could find to make four restraints and tied them to the wheels on the frame of my bed. She joined me in bed and I gently pulled one of her arms above her head, and surprised her with starting to tie her wrist. I was surprised when she started fighting it and was clearly not going to let it happen. I was confused, so I stopped, and she then told me not to stop. I pulled her wrist again and she began to struggle hard, so as strange as it was at the time, I literally wrestled with her until I managed to get the hand tied into place. She was not offering passive resistance; she was working hard to not be tied up. It probably took me 20 minutes to get her fully tied down and it was a lot of work. But for the very first time in my life, I was feeling a D&S vibe in the bedroom. There was nothing submissive about how she had ended up in that position, but the power exchange we were feeling was pretty amazing. This was the 1st time in my life in which I was able to do whatever I wanted to a woman, without her having any say in it, and she loved it. It made me feel strong and it made me feel powerful, and it made the sex the most spectacular I had ever experienced. We had many more fun nights over the course of a few months, and she expected for me to subdue her in some manner, every time after that first experience. Had I known what I know now, she would have been my 1st spanking experience. But even then, I was still shy and embarrassed about my spanking fetish, as I am sure she was hiding more than she shared as well.
After my fun semester and a half of feeling like a stud and having as much sex as I wanted, I met Miss J, at that very same frat house. She was friends with one of the sisters and showed up to a party. We went home that night from the party together, as she needed a place to stay, and we shared a bed. She was a confusing girl at first, as she completely undressed and folded the clothes that she knew she would be putting back on in the morning, and got into bed with me. We made out, but it was clear that there would be no touching below the waist. She had just been fully nude with the lights on, and was sharing a bed with me, but only kissing. This stood out on my mind, as this had never happened before to me, but she was a strong woman and nothing would ever go at a pace that she was not comfortable with. It was quite an attractive feature for a girl who had just turned 18. The next morning, I woke up and she was standing naked in my kitchen making us coffee. After coffee I drove her back to her friend’s dorm and I thought that was the end of it. A few weeks later, my phone rang and it was that girl. She had tracked down my number and asked if I wanted to see her again. Six weeks later she moved into my apartment and we were quickly falling in love. We spent every waking moment outside of school together, and she was the most sexual person I had ever met.
Fast forward to about 5 months later and I will finally get to the spanking part of this relationship. Before I had met her, we had done a fraternity prank, as pledges, in which we wallpapered every square inch of the frat house with pages of dirty magazines. Everyone was told to meet and bring every porn magazine they could find, which for 17 college dudes, was a lot. As we are grabbing magazines and tearing out pages, I came across a spanking magazine, the first I had ever seen. I did not know who had brought it, but I knew I needed it and managed to sneak it into my backpack without having torn a page from it. This magazine received a lot of attention from me in the later weeks, as I had never really seen a picture of a butt that had actually been spanked. It was another big part of my spanking life as I was introduced to the visuals of spanking. Anyway, after J had lived with me for about 5 months, she had decided to clean out the little broom closet that I stored everything in. Of course, that was also where the box that I had stashed my limited porn collection had been, and inside that box was the spanking magazine. I came home from my campus job that afternoon and sitting on the coffee table was that magazine. My heart sank, as I realized how very busted I was. This was the very first time, in the history of my world that someone else knew. I checked the now very organized closet, and all of the rest of my magazines were still in it. She had not gone on a rampage, had not thrown anything away, but had clearly looked at all of the magazines and pulled out this one. She was working her evening job at Dillard’s, and this is well before cell phones, so I simply had to wait until she got home.
After I had put down a six pack, trying to calm my nerves, she finally came home. I had left the magazine out as I did not know what else to do. She smiled, kissed me, grabbed a beer and joined me on the couch. She picked up the magazine and asked me what I thought of it. I went through the excuse of it being left over from the prank, and was just in with my other magazines. She asked me what I thought about it, regardless of where it had come from. I told her that there seemed to be some cute girls in there and that the pink butts were a little cute. She then opened the magazine and said, “Let me show you the things I want to try”. Nervousness, turned to relief, and then to paradise. Over the next couple of days we discussed the concept of spanking in more detail, and one night after way too many beers, I came clean. I told her the fantasy had existed since at least the 3rd grade and that I think about it often. After pouring out my heart, sharing every detail, many of which have been included in this account, including how much I liked to see the neighbor girls spanked, a weight had been lifted like I have never felt before. Almost before I could finish confessing all of my pent up spanking guilt, she looked at me and said “Thank God”. Needless to say, our spanking relationship went very far. Less than a month after that conversation, she started keeping a little journal of things she had done wrong that she needed to be punished for, and punished she was.