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True Account, M/ff, Severe

A couple of years ago a girl named Andrea posted a true account on The World Spanking Forum that I have always found to be one of the best I have read.  It recounts a very strict strapping she witnessed as a teen and then details her six year search in trying to find out what it would be like to endure a punishment equal in severity.  Needless to say, she finally finds the discipline she was looking for and learns the hard way to be careful what you ask for. 

From Andrea at the World Spanking Forum

This is account is the result of a 6 year search to try and recreate and receive a very severe strapping I saw a good friend of mine receive.

The event that affected my life in such a deep way happened when I was 15 years old. A good friend of mine, Gina, had very strict parents and her dad was a Pastor at our local church. On several occasions, I had seen her well-marked bottom after a strapping from her father. Already very curious (and excited) about the whole concept of spanking, I often asked her about her punishments. While she was not shy about letting me view the results, she would not give me the details that I craved about her punishments. About as much as I could get out of her was that they were applied very forcefully on her bare bottom with a strap. She was always too embarrassed (and I think thought I was pretty weird to ask) to give me a blow-by-blow account. One Wednesday afternoon, this all changed.

Several girls at school had begun to smoke and it seemed a cool thing to do. I snagged 3 cigarettes from my dad one morning and after school that day, at Gina’s house, I talked her into trying one with me. We were confident that no one would be home for at least an hour, so we went into her backyard and lit a smoke. We both tried to inhale and ended up just coughing our lungs out. So, we decided not to inhale and just see what it was like to smoke. We shared the first and lit a second to share it as well. Halfway into the second smoke, the backdoor opened and her father came out. We tried to hide the cigarette, but it was too late. He immediately looked so angry and was speechless for a moment. He walked right over to us and slapped Gina across the face hard and she burst into tears. Then all he said was, “Girls, in the house now�.

We hurried into the house and my heart was racing so hard. He told us to sit down on the couch and wait. With that said he left the room for a moment. Gina continued to cry. I am not sure if this was from the pain of her stinging face or the thought of what might follow. When he came back in the room he seemed a little more composed and was not so angry. That did not last very long. As soon as he began to lecture us, he got all worked up again was yelling in no time at all. He did not really focus on the dangers of smoking, more the fact that he could not believe his daughter would do such a thing. He finally told Gina that she had “the whuppin’ of her life coming�. He explained to me that I had certainly earned one to, but he did not have the authority to “blister my bottom�. He further explained that while he could not spank me, there was nothing to stop him from having me see what I got his daughter into. In retrospect, it is kind of strange how he automatically assumed that I was the one who brought the cigarettes and talked her into it. While this was the case, I just found it strange that he never asked who’s they were.

He had us both stand and move to the back of the couch. He pulled up a chair for me and ordered me to have a seat. As curious as I had been about this very event, I was scared. Not just for Gina, but just plain scared. In my mind I had always focused on the physical acts of spanking, not all of the emotions that played into as well as the sheer anger that was being expressed. I did not want to see this at this point, I wanted to run and hide. It was truly a very scary situation.

He ordered Gina to bend over the back of the couch and to “tuck her hands under the cushions�. I found that part a little strange, but through years of replaying this event in my mind, I can only assume it was to keep her from reaching back immediately during her spanking. Not that having her hands under the cushions would really stop her, maybe that was just his policy. He then lifted her dress (I rarely saw her wearing anything else) and yanked her panties down to her ankles. He then unbuckled his large western style belt and folded it in half. While my heart had been racing, the overall formality of this occasion sent my heart into overload. My whole body was trembling slightly and I could not control it. He then looked at me briefly and told me to watch what “I had caused�.

Without another word, he lifted the belt high above his head and brought it down full force on her bottom. She screamed like she had been shot and was instantly in tears again. He paused for close to 5 seconds and then laid another one on her poor bottom. While I had seen her bruised bottom in the past, this was much different. The marks that the belt was leaving were not purple yet, they were a deep red, and the lines from the belt actually rose off the surface of her bottom. The right hand side of her bottom was the only part that already showed small signs of bruising. It seemed the tip of the belt must have hit differently than the rest. Once again, a 5 second pause and then another stroke. She screamed after each stroke of the belt. This continued for 5-6 stroked and then he began to pick up the pace. When I had tried to picture her getting strapped in my head, I always imagined a stroke, some lecturing, and then another. He did not say a word throughout. His pace quickened to one every couple of seconds. I was very impressed with Gina, she struggled a little, but her hands never left their spot from under the cushion. I was quite curious how she was able to do it. I was not sure if it was just that she was tough, or that she knew what the results would be if she tried to get away. Either way, I was very impressed and knew that I would not be able to take that and stay still.

Throughout the strapping, her reactions were pretty much the same. She would scream a little when every stroke landed and cry hard in between. As the pace grew faster, there was hardly any time to scream between each stroke. This led to a sort of continuous wailing from her. To my surprise, the strapping just kept getting faster. It slowly sped up until I do not think he could lay the strokes on any quicker. I would say that it was about 20 strokes into it when he reached this pace. Now he was just smacking, her now bright red bottom, what seemed to be as hard and as fast as he could. About 10 or more strokes into the pace, a weird thing started to happen, Gina started to calm down a bit. Just when I would have begun to think I was dying, it seemed she was relaxing. Her body was not wriggling so forcefully and she was no longer yelling after each stroke. Her loud crying was replaced with gentle sobbing. I was amazed, truly amazed. He kept up his pace for another 10 or so strokes with the belt and then it was over. Once again her reaction was much less than I ever would have imagined. She lay very still and was crying very gently. My conclusion at that point in time was that she had just run out of energy.

To this very day, I still kick myself for not counting. For some reason I want to know how many strokes she actually got. I have replayed this scene in my head more than a thousand times, and my best guess is around 40 strokes maybe a little more. He told her to stand up and pull up her panties. I was far too embarrassed, having witnessed this whole thing, to even look at her. She pulled up her panties and ran to her room. This left me alone with her dad and the whole room grew that much more uncomfortable. He looked at me and suggested that we make a phone call to my parents. He told me to go and call one of them and put him on the phone. I dialed my mom’s work number and got her on the phone. As soon as I said “mom�, he grabbed the phone out of my hand. Basically he said, “Mrs. ___________, I came home early today and caught our girls out in my backyard smoking. My daughter does not have access to cigarettes, so I can only assume your daughter brought them over. Gina just got the whuppin’ of her life and I suggest that when your daughter gets home, she receive the same. She is on her way home now, good day Ma’am�. He then hung up the phone and told me to “get my bottom home now�.

I got out of that house as quickly as I could and basically ran home. The whole time I tried to digest what I had just witnessed. There was a lot of conflict going on in my head. My initial thoughts were of remorse for Gina and what she had just gone through. But, at the same time there was unbelievable excitement, having just witnessed something I had tried to imagine hundreds of times. The final variable was the fact that I was going to really be in for it when I got home. Although my parents were smokers, they had made it very clear that I would not be one. My parents had never spanked me and I knew they would not today. As expected, when I got home there was a very lengthy lecture and I was grounded for two weeks, including use of the phone. This was about as bad as it got in the way of punishments at my house. I had a lot of time over the next two weeks to reflect on the enormity of the punishment I had witnessed. After the initial shock had worn off, I was pretty much just left with excitement.

As a result of witnessing this punishment, I would begin to fantasize about what it would have been like had I been the one who was spanked that day. This would become a frequent and unavoidable fantasy of mine for the next 6 years. I would play it in my head two ways. The first, he was my father and I was the one strapped. The second variation was that he just went ahead and strapped me as well that day. The father aspect tended to weird me out a little, so my most frequent fantasy was for me to have been included in the punishment. When I say fantasy, I think obsession is a better word for it. Some how, some way I needed to take this out of my head and see what the experience was really like.

Last year, just after I turned 20, I decided that I needed to find a way to live out this experience for myself and see what Gina really went through. I tried to explain to my current boyfriend at the time my desire. I think he thought I was a little weird (which at this point I did not care) and he humored me with the first spanking of my life. He took me over his knee, gave me a few love taps, and that was the end of it. It was clear that I was not going to be able to experience what I really desired with him.

As I am beginning to discover, I took the route that many women have and turned to, the Internet. I began spending late nights in the computer lab at my school and began reading message boards, chatting in spanking rooms, and posting online personals. This led to three separate encounters in which I was spanked. All of them involved the use of a safeword (something that I was advised was the smart way to go about it). On one occasion, in which a strap was used, I used the safeword almost immediately. On the second occasion, he would not spank me very hard at all, and it was more playful than painful. On the third occasion, the man was all about sex and I was out of there quickly. Three experiences, three disappointments, I had tried hard, but was still unable to fulfill my fantasy.

The first guy was the closest I came to what I wanted. But, he really lacked any sort of authority. The whole process was just kind of mechanical. He talked too much about the strapping, there was no sense of being in trouble, but the strokes were very hard. I was disappointed in myself that I was not able to take all that much. What I felt was lacking was the very stern presence of a real authority figure. Someone I would not dare try and get out of the spanking with. I also felt the safeword was standing in my way. While I wanted to have a safe experience, I needed to give up complete control and the use of a safeword was standing in my way. Gina did not have the option of stopping her punishment with a word. She was forced to take everything she had coming and her opinions, feelings, or pain tolerance were not a factor. I was forced to rethink my plan.

I decided the best thing to do was to find a very real disciplinarian, someone with tons of experience. Not the “I love to spank girls� types that I had previously contacted. After asking around online, I was referred to a web site in which a man offered “disciplinary services�. He stated that he was safe and sane, but only dealt with true punishments. His site further explained that he could provide references. To me, this sounded like what I had been looking for. It was about a 10-hour drive from where I lived, but I felt I had to check into it. I began exchanging e-mails with this guy and from the very beginning he seemed like a winner. He was very stern in his communication style, yet very polite. He treated me with the utmost respect, yet made me feel like a little girl at the same time. The only problem that arose was when I began to speak of wanting to be punished without the use of a safeword. At first, he refused. He stated that all first sessions involve the use of a safeword. I continued to argue the point and he finally offered me a deal. I was to write a 1000 word essay with the goal of trying to convince him that I realty wanted a session without a safeword. He said once he read it, he would say either yes or no and we would not argue the point any further.

For the next 3 days I basically neglected all of my schoolwork and poured everything I had into this essay. It was very strange to be spending so much time trying to convince someone to beat my ass with a belt. But, this also helped to strengthen my thoughts that this guy was indeed safe and the one for me. I finished my e-mail and sent it to him. I waited three days for a response and after class one day I saw an e-mail from him in my mailbox. Almost too scared to look, I finally checked the mail. The answer was simple, “Yes. On what day will you be arriving?�. My heart dropped.

We made arrangements for me to drive up in three weeks. He also had me send him a detailed written account of the experience I was looking for. The three weeks passed and I was on the road. My head was full of emotions during the 10-hour drive. This really seemed as if it was going to be it. Six years of waiting and I was going to finally know what Gina had experienced. While prior to the drive my thoughts were exciting, for the first time the enormity of the situation hit me and I was scared.

I arrived in his city and called the number he had given me. He gave me directions to a local deli and said he wanted to meet for lunch first. I drove there and waited. He arrived a few minutes later. He knew what kind of car I was driving and walked right up to my window. I rolled down the window and said hello. He greeted me with a warm smile, but informed me that I would call him “Sir�. My heart sank and I replied with a “Yes Sir�. We went inside and ordered some food to go. He said that before we started, he wanted to be able to talk to me in person for a little while and make sure I really wanted to go through with this. He felt that we should go somewhere where we could talk in private. He told me to follow him and we drove to a very nice park. We sat under a tree and ate our lunch. My stomach was in knots, so it was hard to eat. He asked me many questions. He wanted to better understand my motivations for this and wanted to know in detail what I hoped to gain. He seemed genuinely concerned about my feelings and listened very carefully as I went into detail. After about a 45-minute conversation, he said that we would go on with it as planned. We walked to our cars and he told me to follow him to his house.

As excited as I now was, I felt like I was going to throw up. I felt that in just a few minutes, I was going to experience the most intense pain of my life and would not be able to do anything about it. A gave the whole thing second thoughts more than once. We finally arrived at his house and it was very nice. He got out of his car and I started to get out of mine, when he waved me back in. He walked over to me and told me to hold on just a minute. He walked several feet away and got out his cell phone and made a call. I desperately wanted to hear what he was saying, but could not. Finally, he put away his cell phone and motioned for me to get out of the car. At this point things got strange for a moment and I began to question if this was a good idea. He presented me with some sort of story about the entryway of his house was being worked on, so he did not want me to go through that way. He informed me that he would go in the front, but I needed to go around back. I agreed, but was very confused. I began to fear his motivations for some reason, but against better judgment, I did as I was told and walked through the back gate, while he entered through the front door.

When I walked into the backyard, I was startled when there was a girl around my age in the backyard. I immediately told her that Mr._______ had told me to come back this way. She told me that she knew who I was and to come over to her. I was thoroughly confused at this point. Who was this strange girl? All it took were her next words for everything to come together in my head. She said “hey, I do not think he will be home for a least an hour, want to have a smoke with me�. All of a sudden reality and fantasy crashed together. I could not believe what was going on. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it up and took a few drags off of it and handed it to me. I took a few drags, but did not inhale. I had not smoked since that day in Gina’s backyard. When I handed the cigarette back to her my hands were shaking like mad. She told me not to be nervous, that he still had an hour at work and we would not get caught. I could not believe how elaborate this setup was. All of a sudden I was 15 and smoking in my friend’s yard. Less than a second later the curtains on the window we were standing in front of were pulled open, and there he stood. He yanked the window open with such force, the pane of glass actually cracked. I think that surprised us all. Instantly he was yelling at both of us about how he could not believe we were smoking. Honest to God, I have never been more scared, he was truly pissed. My heart was racing a thousand miles per hour and my whole body was shaking to the point of convulsions.

He yelled at us through the window for another moment and then told us to get into the house. He once again slammed the window shut and pulled the curtains. The girl actually said to me as me walked toward the back door, “see what you got us into�. I could not believe my ears. I replied with, “it was your idea, it isn’t my fault�. At this point I crossed a very strange line. The weird thing was is that when I said that, I was not role-playing. It was her fault that we were about to get in trouble, this did not seem like it was all a result of something I had requested. Once again, fantasy and reality began to blur as I got caught up the realism of this situation.

She opened the back door and we walked into a kitchen area. He called to us from the living room and told us to come to him. We walked into the room and he just stared at us. It was the most intimidating stare I had ever seen in my life. I wanted to just disappear and forget the whole thing. He walked closer and asked us is we had both been smoking. At the exact same time, we both replied. She replied “Yes, Sir� and I made the mistake of replying with just a “Yes�. Out of know where his left hand came up and slapped me hard across the right cheek. This I did not expect at all. My eyes filled with tears and my ears were ringing. While I had explained to him the entire details of Gina’s punishment, I had never requested to be slapped. But, in his defense, I had told him on many occasions I wanted to know exactly what she had experienced. I had never been slapped before, nor had I ever been in a fight and been hit in the face. This was completely new to me and I was stunned in a very big way. Tears streamed down my face and I heard him say, “didn’t I tell you earlier to always call me sir�. Still too stunned to really comprehend what he was saying, he slapped me again on the other cheek. That was all it took for me to really start crying. He said to me very loudly, “when I ask you a question, I expect an answer, do you understand?�. I replied with a “Yes, Sir� through my tears. I had really thought his previous question was a statement, that is why I did not answer. Either way, the point has been made very clear to me. While he was just staring at me, I glanced at the girl next to me, and while she appeared nervous, I detected a faint smile in my direction. He then asked me again, “were both of you smoking?�. This time I replied with a “Yes, Sir�.

He said that both of us smoking made it nice an easy for him. If we were both smoking in his house on his property, then he was going to give us both “the whuppin’ of our life�. I could not believe how well prepared he was for this, he was using exact quotes from my account. He then said, “Since you have not been punished by me before, I will let you watch Tara take her whuppin’ so you can see what I expect from you�. He walked to the bar and pulled up a tall barstool for me to sit on and motioned for me to sit. I did as I was instructed and sat down, rubbing my now pulsating face. He told Tara to bend over the back of the couch and to “tuck her hands under the cushions�. She did as she was told and waited. He pulled up her dress and pulled down her panties. She was a petite girl with the smallest little butt I have ever seen.

As he began to unbuckle his belt I reflected on this moment in time. All of a sudden I was 15 years old again. It seemed as time had warped and everything I had pictured in my head for the last 6 years was now reality. It began to sink in that I was really going to be punished this time and it was not a fantasy. He removed his belt and it seemed much larger then the one Gina had been strapped with. It was not really longer, but this seemed to be a very thick, well-worn belt. Just as Gina’s punishment had started, this one started the same way. There were no more words spoken, he simple raised the belt high above his head and swung it with all his might. He swung a little different in the fact that just before he brought the belt down, he kind of raised his front leg off the ground and brought it down firmly as he swung. It seemed kind of like the way a pitcher in baseball wound up to throw the ball. The reactions from the first stroke were ear piercing. Tara screamed with every ounce of energy she had in her. Her reactions made Gina’s seem tame. Her tiny butt instantly displayed the marks from the first stroke. About 10 seconds later the next stroke landed with the same reaction. Unlike Gina’s bottom early into the punishment, this girl’s bottom was showing deep bruising. I assume it is because she had no padding at all on her bottom. The parallel lines from the belt were leaving deep bruises and her right cheek was black and blue from where the tip of the belt had landed. As much as she had screamed, she had not really begun to cry yet that I could tell.

He continued, giving her a stroke every 6-8 seconds. As he continued, she slowly started to cry. Throughout, she never moved an inch. After around 20 strokes, he began to pick up the pace. The strokes were now less than 5 seconds apart and he was really laying it on. She began to cry louder and louder as the speed picked up. Just as I had described to him in my accounts, the pace continued to quicken. Somewhere around the 30th stroke, he was swinging as fast as he could. Her crying was loud and continuous and he just continued to beat her poor bottom. Just after 60 strokes, I began to see the same change that I had witnessed with Gina. She began to calm herself a little and the crying quieted down. This had no effect on him and he continued to whip her bottom. Unlike Gina’s punishment, I counted every stroke this time. He stopped on number 87.

He straightened up and was breathing loudly with sweat beading on his forehead. He took a moment to look at her bottom. It was a big mess of bruises. I could not believe the damage that had been done. Her entire right cheek appeared to be one big mass of bruises. I was amazed that someone’s bottom could even look like that. She continued quietly sobbing as he caught his breath. He called me from my chair and told me to take a look at Tara’s bottom to see what I could expect. It once again hit me that I was not just a spectator, that I was going to be a participant. I felt a little faint as I stepped off the stool. He called me closer and had me kneel down with my face just a few inches from her bottom. I could no longer tell where each stroke had landed; her entire butt was red, black, and blue. Her bottom gently quivered with her sobbing. He had me stand back up and sit down on the stool again. He pulled up a second stool and had Tara take a seat. He made her keep her panties around her ankles and her dress above her waist. She sat down very gingerly, and pulled her dress to her tear stained face and just buried her face deep into the cloth.

He informed me that he needed a moment to get his rest and regain his strength, so he could punish me as effectively. He went to the kitchen and grabbed himself a bottle of water. Considering what I just witnessed, and the fact that I was next, I was overcome with emotion. I unexpectedly began to cry. He came back into the room and sat on the back of the couch looking at us. I made the decision right there that I wanted to back out. This had been my ultimate fantasy, but I no longer wanted any part of it. I think some things are just best left to the imagination. There is no way I could take what that girl got and I just wanted to start my drive back home, having just witnessed another very real punishment.

I gathered all the courage I could muster and I told him, “Sir, I have changed my mind, I no longer want to go through with this and would like to leave now�. Tara instantly looked right at me. He stood up, walked to within a foot of me and said in a very stern voice, “young lady, you are the one that got in trouble and you are in my house. You must be very confused if you think you have any say in this at all. It was my decision to punish you girls in this matter for smoking, so there is nothing in your mind to change about this situation. You will face the consequences of your actions and you will leave when you have been properly punished, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?�. I was dumbfounded and did not know what to say, I just stared at the ground. Once again, out of nowhere, a hard slap landed across my left cheek. Once again, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?�. I replied with a quiet “Yes, Sir� through my tears. I really had no say in this at all. I had spent 6 years waiting for this moment, but I no longer wanted to go through with it. But, here I sat like a helpless little girl with no power to stop what was about to happen. I once again felt sick and thought I might throw up.

He set his water on the bar and grabbed me hard by the arm and dragged me over to the couch. He yelled for me to bend over and put my hands under the couch cushions. I immediately did as I was told. I felt my dress being lifted and his fingers enter the waistband of my panties as he yanked them forcefully to my ankles. The anticipation was too much for me to bear and I began to cry loudly. With no warning, the first stroke landed. I was shocked by the pain, it was 10 times harder than any swat I had from the guy in which I used the safeword. I immediately jumped up and grabbed my bottom, screaming at the top of my lungs. I strong hard pushed me on the middle of my back and forced me back down. With a lot of anger in his voice he said, “young lady, you have earned this punishment and you will take every stroke I give you and you will stay in position. If you chose to get up again, this will be the result�. I then felt a brutal stroke, which landed on my thighs halfway between my knees and my bottom. I once again jumped up and started rubbing my thigh. I was crying as hard as I ever have in my life after just two strokes. The one on the thigh made the one on my bottom seem tame. He forced me back over again and informed me that this punishment would continue on my thighs until I learned to take my punishment properly. As promised the next stroke landed, once again, on my thighs. I used every ounce of energy I had to stay still. I gripped the underside of the cushion with all my might and managed to stay bent over. He said, “that is better� and the next stroke landed on my bottom. While better than the thigh, it was still the most intense pain I had ever experienced. I focused on my grip on the cushions and held firm. With me better under control, he fell into a rhythm, giving me a stroke every 10 or so seconds. I yelled loud and cried hard. While both punishments I had now witnessed seemed very painful, there was just no way that I ever expected it to be like this.

I lost track of time and reality. Reality for me at this point was a pain I never knew before. All I could focus on was the pain on my bottom and the death grip I had on the cushions. Somehow, focusing on my hands seemed to make it all just bearable. As expected, I noticed the blows on my bottom increasing in speed. With no time to recover between the strokes, I began a constant sort of screaming. I was crying, screaming, gasping for breath, and almost blinded by the tears in my eyes. There was no way I could take this, THERE WAS NO WAY I COULD TAKE THIS! The pain increased to a whole new level and I became disoriented and confused. My mind was cluttered an overloaded with sensations. While still keeping my feet in place and my hands gripped tight on the cushion, my whole body was convulsing under the blows from his thick belt. I could no longer tell the difference between when the blows were landing and when they were not, it was just a constant and continuous pain I was unable to escape.

At some point, I do not know when (it could have been 30 strokes into it, it could have been 30,000) I began to give up the fight. I quit gripping quite so tight on the cushion, I let my body relax and quit convulsing, and I ran out of energy to scream. The whuppin’ was still going on, but something had overcome me. I do not know if this was an out of the body experience, if I was submitting, or if I lacked the energy to fight it. The pain while still very intense was somehow tolerable. I was achieving the impossible and I was able to take this. The pain no longer mattered, he could whip me all day and I felt I could take it. Just as I contemplated these feelings, it stopped.

I was instantly overcome with a flood of new emotions and resumed crying pretty hard. I just buried my face in the couch and had a very good cry. While very aware of the pain of my bottom, it was not as I expected as far as overall soreness. My entire bottom pulsated with the fast beat of my heart and it stung, but I expected the first few minutes after a strapping to be the very worst part. From what seemed like another world entirely, I heard a voice tell me to stand up. I quickly realized that there were other people in the room with me and that this was real. I quietly replied with a “Yes, Sir� and stood up, a little dizzy and disoriented. My eyes locked with Tara’s as she stared deeply into my soul. This moment was broken when a stern voice informed us, “well, that should keep you girls from smoking in the future. Tara, you need to get to your room now�. She replied with a “Yes, Sir� and ran off awkwardly with her panties still around her ankles.

He reached his hand out and grabbed my chin and pulled my head up until I was looking at him. He looked deep into my eyes and asked me if I had learned a proper lesson about smoking. I told him I had. He informed me that a phone call to my house would not be necessary, since he had elected to take care of things his own way. He told me that it was getting late and I better head on home. With that said I was dismissed. I walked out the front door into the lightness of the day and for a moment, felt like I needed to walk to my parent’s house. I got my wits about me, located my keys, and got in my car and drove away. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going, I just drove down the street and hopped on the first freeway I came to. I did not consider time, distance, or directions; I just drove trying to grasp everything that had just happened. It was a lot to absorb and it was going to take me a very long time to figure it all out mentally. My bottom had a nice warm and surprisingly pleasant feeling. I thought that a sore bottom would be one of the worst parts, but it really was not bothering me. I noticed that my heart rate was probably still close to double its normal rate.

Five minutes or five hours later (I really have no idea) I came across a grouping of hotels and restaurants next to a mall. I had packed a bag, knowing I did not want to repeat the long drive in a single day and decided to get a room. I walked to the counter, still in a daze, and paid for a room. I drove my car around to my room, entered, and collapsed on the bed. Fully overloaded mentally and physically, I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke it was dark outside. I have no idea what time I checked in, but the clock now showed 10:30 PM. It took me a moment to even realize where I was and if this afternoon had been a dream. As I stood up, I became very aware of my bottom. It hurt to stand up and walk. With every step I felt an intense soreness that I had never experienced before. I walked to the mirror and flipped up my dress. Even the process of lowering my panties caused considerable pain. When I saw my bottom for the first time I was shocked. It was a nasty mix of purple, black, and blue. Just like Tara’s bottom, the right cheek was a mess of angry bruises. Surprisingly, my whole bottom was kind of hard to the touch. It had somehow firmed up everywhere the belt had hit. On the backs of my legs there were two of the worst bruises I have ever seen. It looked like I would not be wearing shorts for quite some time. I must have spent 30 minutes looking at my poor bottom. The biggest surprise was when I sat on the toilet to pee. I found it almost impossible. While when driving I thought that I had somehow gotten lucky and my bottom was not that sore, I guess it just takes time. I ended up squatting above the seat to go to the bathroom.

I desperately needed some food, so I walked across the parking lot to a Chili’s. Once again the act of walking proved to be painful. I sat alone and had dinner. I struggled for 45 minutes to try and find a way to sit comfortably and it never happened. I was still in a bit of a daze while I ate and reflected on the resolution of a 6-year fantasy. It was more than I ever expected. It went far beyond what I wanted. It was the worst experience of my life; it was the greatest moment I have ever experienced. It was the most pain I have ever felt and the hardest I have ever cried. The next morning I began the long drive home. The drive turned out to be almost as painful as the strapping itself. I had no idea that the pain got worse with time not better, I felt far worse than I had the night before. I stopped dozens of times just to get the weight off my bottom. When I returned to the dorms, I was beat.

I experienced pain for more than 5 days. The bruises on my bottom lasted more than 2 weeks and the marks on my thighs did not fully fade for almost a month. I came up with a good excuse for the bruises on my thighs so I could resume wearing shorts. About a week after my experience, I received an e-mail from him asking me to describe my experiences for him. I went into great detail and relived the whole experience for him. As I reread my very long e-mail, I noticed that it resembled a thank you note. As horrible as the experience was, I loved him for it. He had taken my fantasy to a whole new level, one which I did not think was possible. I asked him a few questions, especially the thing I was the most curious about, who was Tara and why was she there? He explained to me that he had been punishing Tara for almost 2 years. She was a young girl that craved very intense discipline. One of her fantasies had been to be punished severely with another girl watching and then to get to watch. He had arranged that day for both of us to fulfill fantasies. I guess I am not the only person out there with these bizarre feelings.

Well, that is the full account of one of two spanking I have received in my life, both as an adult. Thanks for listening.

A.

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