Red Cheeks (Part 1)

Petite blonde, age 24, 5'2",
105 lbs., 34-22-34, loves red
cheeks - especially mine! If
you're a man who knows how to tan a
naughty girl's bottom, give me a
spanking I won't forget. Send
photo and personal info to
Box 103SM.

The ad was in a local adults-only newspaper, and as soon as I saw it I knew I had to respond. I'd fantasized for a long time about spanking and being spanked, and had even spent an hour in a "dungeon" to satisfy my curiosity about whether being spanked - hard - by a woman would be the kind of turn-on I imagined. But I hadn't yet met a woman who wanted to be spanked. I knew I could find someone who, for a price, would let me do
just about anything, but even if I could afford it, the idea of paying someone to submit to pain seemed, well, immoral to me. But here, at last, was someone who might enjoy it!

I composed a short note and sent it, with a snapshot of myself, to the paper's box number. The note included my telephone number, and a few days later I came home from work to find a message on my answering machine - call Gail at the number she mentioned. I called the number and she answered. We chatted a few minutes without mentioning her ad, and I knew she was trying to find out what kind of person I was, whether I might be dangerous. I told her about my job, that I was divorced, and why, that I had two kids who lived with their mother but spent two weekends a month with me. Finally she seemed satisfied that I wasn't some kind of maniac. We talked about her ad and my letter, and eventually agreed to meet for a drink the next evening, a Friday.

After we hung up, I inspected the "toys" I'd gathered over the past few years - several wooden paddles of different sizes and weights, some with padded faces and some without; small leather straps with buckles, for restraints, and some larger straps without buckles, for use on, shall we say, the target area; a hairbrush from which I'd removed the bristles, so that one side was flat and smooth and the other side covered with small holes; and the strip of Lucite and the birch cane that had been used regularly on me and my younger siblings, from the time we were seven or eight years old until we reached our early teens. I didn't know whether Gail would want me to use any of the toys, but her ad had sounded as though she was both serious and experienced, so I guessed that she would be up for more than a hand spanking. I cleaned everything out of my gym bag and put the toys in it for inconspicuous transport.

The next evening I went to the small bar Gail and I had agreed on, and I spotted her without difficulty; unlike a lot of people who posted personal ads, Gail had been truthful about her attributes. She was cute without being gorgeous, with a trim, athletic-looking body and a surprisingly good tan for someone with such fair skin. I felt very comfortable being with her. We had our drinks, but the place was so noisy that we couldn't have
much of a conversation, and after we'd had a second round Gail
suggested that we go over to her apartment.

As I followed her up the stairs to her second-floor flat, gym bag in hand, I couldn't help noticing how the muscles of her ass bunched and relaxed as climbed the steps, and speculating about what I'd see once a couple of layers of thin cloth were out of the way.

Gail unlocked the front door and ushered me into a neat, well-furnished apartment. After giving me a quick tour of the five rooms she offered me another drink. I accepted, and she made drinks for both of us before sitting down on the living room sofa. We looked at one another for a long time without speaking, until I decided to break the ice by asking how she'd come to have an interest in spanking.

She said that she had had a very strict upbringing and had been spanked often as a child, both by her mother and by her stepfather. A few years ago she had realized that although those spankings had been very painful at the time, thinking about them later was "stimulating". I asked how old she'd been when she'd last been spanked by one of them, and learned that her mother hadn't spanked her after she was about twelve, but that her stepfather had continued for another couple of years. Her mother
had finally made him stop because Gail was getting "too developed."

I asked how old she'd been when she got her first "voluntary" spanking, and was rewarded with a blush that extended even into her scalp. Nervously, Gail admitted that she hadn't been spanked since she was fourteen, but hadn't wanted to sound naive in her ad. I reassured her that I understood this was an experiment for her, that we would proceed very gradually and go no further than she wanted to. Privately, I doubted that I would be opening my bag of toys.

I told Gail I would do nothing without warning her and giving her a chance to say "no", but that I thought it would help prepare her mentally if she got into position across my lap. She hesitated for a moment, then gulped the last of her drink and stood up. Sliding to the center of the sofa, I reached up and took her hand. I pulled her gently down until she lay across my legs; her crotch rested on my right thigh and I could feel her
boobs pressing against the outside of my left thigh. Without saying anything, I ran my hand slowly over the seat of her pants and felt her whole body tremble.

Keeping my hand on her ass, I asked her to tell me more about her childhood spankings. Her mother, she said, usually used a hard-soled bedroom slipper or a yardstick; her stepfather had used his hairbrush when she was younger and his belt after she was ten or eleven. Quick, impulsive spankings might be administered wherever she happened to be when the cause arose, and would be given through whatever clothing she was wearing. Spankings like that were frightening because they were often
accompanied by rage, and embarrassing if her friends were around, but not particularly painful because she was protected by clothing and because the spankings were generally brief.

Serious spankings, Gail said, were administered in her bedroom and were much more painful. Regardless of the time of day, she would be sent to her room with instructions to remove all her clothing and put on her nightgown, and would then be left to contemplate the impending punishment for anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. I stroked Gail's back with one hand and her ass with the other as she spoke, and could feel her arching her pelvis to push her asscheeks against my hand.

If her mother were going to do the spanking, Gail continued, she would have Gail pull her nightgown up to her waist and lie face down on her bed with her knees bent and her toes on the floor. Her mother would then apply the slipper or the yardstick to Gail's bare bottom. Most of her mother's spankings consisted of no more than two dozen strokes, unless Gail moved; her mother made no attempt to hold Gail in place, but if she
moved she would be ordered back into position and her mother would start over. I slid my hand down the back of first one of Gail's thighs and then the other as she described the way her mother had spanked her, and noted appreciatively that her legs parted as I touched her.

Moving my hand back to her ass, I asked Gail what had been different about the spankings her stepfather had given her. One difference, she said, was that he always made her take her nightgown off, so that she was totally naked. When he intended to use his hairbrush, he would sit on the edge of her bed and make her lie across his lap, just as she was lying across mine now. I could imagine the scene perfectly, seeing her naked body trembling the same way it shuddered fully clothed under my hands
now. Her stepfather would spank her quickly ten or fifteen times with his hairbrush, lecture her while her cries subsided, and then repeat the spanking. Generally he would do this five or six times, leaving her with bruises that lasted several days.

Once he began using his belt instead of the hairbrush, her stepfather required Gail to kneel on the bed, head down and bottom up in the air. She was required to count each lash out  loud, and if she moved the whipping would start over. Her stepfather usually gave her ten lashes without stopping, covering the backs of her thighs as well as her bottom, and then gave her a minute or two before the next set. After two or three sets, especially in the final year or two, he would make her spread her
knees far apart and would lash the insides of her thighs as well as the backs. I asked whether her stepfather touched her, with anything other than his belt, while she was in the spanking position, and Gail blushed deeply again as she told me he'd never touched her sexually, although he sometimes prodded her to make her move to a different position.

Gail was breathing raggedly as she spoke, the words tumbling out. I doubted that she had ever told these stories to anyone before, and if she had told anyone, I was willing to bet that the listener hadn't been able to see - as I could - how wet the crotch of her pants had become.

"All right, Gail," I told her. "I think I understand the significance this has to you. I'm going to spank you in just a minute" - I felt her ass harden under my palm - "but first I want to explain something to you." She sighed and relaxed.

"The problem with most voluntary spankings is that the person being spanked knows how to make it stop. When you were a kid, you didn't have that kind of control - your mother or your stepfather kept on spanking until they were done, no matter whether you thought you'd had enough or not. And that's the way it's going to be when I spank you."

"But what if -", Gail started to ask in alarm.

"Wait a minute, let me finish," I said firmly. "That doesn't mean you have no say in the matter. Before I do anything, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll agree on how many you'll get. If you don't agree, I won't do anything at all, but once you agree, it will be too late to change your mind, and I won't stop until the agreed number unless I decide you've had too many. Now, how does that sound to you?"

She was silent for a moment. "All right, I guess," she said slowly. "But what if it just hurts too much?"

"That's what will make it seem real," I replied. "And the next time, if you want, we can agree on a smaller number."

"O.K.," she said shakily, "I sure hope I don't regret this."

"You won't," I assured her. "Now, since it's been a long time for you, we'll start very gently. We'll leave your pants on, and I'll just use my hand. How many of those shall I give you?"

Gail thought for a moment. "How about five?" she said tentatively.

"How about ten?" I responded. We settled on seven, and I shifted her slightly to make sure her ass was directly above my thigh. I raised my hand and said, "O.K., here we go!"

I brought my open palm down sharply on the clenched muscles of her right asscheek. Gail expelled her breath swiftly but made no other sound. I gave her a matching smack on the left side, and followed up with another on the left before she could clench that cheek again. The seven spanks took only ten seconds or so, and Gail gave no indication that she found them hard to take.

"Those didn't hurt much, did they? How about fifteen more?" I asked.

"O.K.", she answered. "I think I can handle that."

I resumed without any warning, and the first swat provoked a small yelp of surprise. The last three spanks of that set elicited short moans, but nothing that sounded as though Gail were in real pain.

"All right," I announced, "I think it's time to make things a little more realistic. Let's get those pants out of the way."

Gail stood up stiffly, unzipped her slacks and pulled them off. She looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering if I intended her to remove her bikini panties as well.

"Leave those on, for now," I smiled, "but why don't you take your blouse off and save some time later?" She had to realize that meant that I expected all of her clothes to be off before we finished, but the idea didn't seem to bother her. She unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on top of her slacks. Then, wearing only her bra and a pair of pale blue nylon
panties - neither of which left a great deal to my imagination - she draped herself across my lap again.

Her bikini panties exposed a lot of skin, and I could see that her ass was as firm and well-shaped as I'd guessed. It was also slightly tinged with pink from the gentle spanking she'd had so far; it would be pinker after the next set.

"I'm still going to use my hand," I told her. "You're more exposed now, but you've also gotten used to the feeling, so why don't we start with twenty?" We settled on fifteen, and I agreed to warn her before the first.

I gave her the warning and landed a hard swat in the middle of her left asscheek, being careful to center the blow over the nylon-covered area. The sound echoed loudly and my hand stung, so I knew her ass did too, but Gail reacted only with a sharp gasp. I continued briskly, gradually letting the spanks land more on bare skin and less on nylon. She was squirming by the time I gave her the fifteenth spank, but her movements seemed more designed to grind her pubic bone against my thigh than to
avoid the force of my slaps.

We had reached a critical point. I had to decide whether to remove the last of Gail's clothing and continue spanking her by hand, or to introduce her to my toys. Much as I wanted to see her totally nude, it seemed to me that she was less likely to fear my toys if she still had the protection - more psychological than physical - of her panties when I introduced them, so I told her to get up and hand me my gym bag.

I put the bag on the coffee table in front of us and unzipped it. Then I told Gail to take everything out. She examined each paddle and strap carefully before laying it out on the coffee table. When she had finished, I told her to choose the one she wanted me to use.

"Couldn't you just spank me some more with your hand?" she asked. "I mean, your hand was really starting to sting, and those things look like they could really hurt."

"I'll do whatever you want," I told her, "but I think you're ready for more than just my hand. You want to see how a real spanking will feel."

"I guess you're right." She selected the lightest paddle and handed it to me. It was a good choice. I knew from personal experience that it would sting, but any pain would disappear within a few minutes.

Gail settled back across my lap but didn't relax the way she had before. I stroked her ass and the backs of her thighs, assuring her that the paddle was only a small step away from the hand spankings she'd endured so easily. Most of the tension left her body, but I could tell that her asscheeks were still tight. I asked her how many she wanted to start with, and she suggested five. I countered with fifteen, and we agreed on ten. I raised the paddle and told her to relax; my words, of course, had the opposite effect.

I landed the paddle sharply on the panty-covered part of her right asscheek. Gail jumped and said "Oh!", but made no other sound. Nine more spanks landed quickly. I alternated from cheek to cheek, and she jerked each time the paddle landed but remained silent.

go to part 2