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Age: 56
City: Upstate
State: NY
Country: US

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No Idea What's On This Blog
 I'm bored.
I'm at work. We're slow. Nothing to do. Completed all my tasks. Approved work. Went to the meetings. Now, I have a few hours to waste and I'm here.

I have no idea what I'm about to write. I do know it's going to be about one of my spanking adventures. It always is. 

I have well over 400 adventures to choose from. Well, that's actually not true. I counted over 400 about five years ago. There've been at least 20 to add to that count. Not bragging. It's just a fact.

Let me see where do I go with this one?

Ok. Here's a recent one. 

I moved to a new city, Rochester, about a year and a half ago. Nice town. Cool people. Very nice job. I signed up on Fetlife and waited to see what would happen. About four months into my stay, a very cool guy by the name of...Mike, contacted me. He had a very young, 21, college student who loved to be spanked but he was a bdsm guy and didn't understand the spanking dynamics. Coud I help?

We met for lunch. He was in his mid to late 30's. In shape. Attractive guy. We hit it off, so to speak. the girl was absolutely gorgeous. She looked like Taylor Swift. Tall, blond, beautiful. 

After a week or so, Mike contacted me to come over to his place one afternoon and take this naughty girl in hand. I showed up and there she was sitting on the couch with Mike. Her eyes averted mine. I said hello. Mike brought some water and I tried to talk to the girl. She was mute. And shaking. 

I gave Mike a "WFT?" look. He talked to her and she said she didn't want to go through with it. Now, this was only about 10 minutes from my office so I wasn't too upset. But, at the same time, I was a bit pissed because I was considerably older and took it personally. Egos suck.

Mike was good. He had a talk with her and after about 20 minutes it was announced she was ready to take her punishment. Mike and I had agreed that I would control the session and he would contribute as needed.

I put her in the corner. Gave her a moderate scolding. I could see her legs shaking. I told her she was about to receive the spanking of her life and that sitting would be a challenge for the next day or so. With her eyes front, I could hear a sniffle already.

Enough. I took her by the hand and led her to a chair I placed in the middle of the room. I took her over my knee and continued her scolding. She was wearing a shear mid-length dress. I patted her bottom to see what I had to work with. It was well-cushioned for a girl as thin as she was. I gave her warm up swats. She jumped and her legs straightened out. After about 30 or so smacks on her bottom I picked up the pace. "Oooh, ow......ouch......oh my.....oh geez......" I was getting to her.

I stopped and annouched that i was going to get down to business as I lifted her dress above her hips and peeled them back to reveal and an amazing heart-shaped bottom that was coloring rather nicely. Unfortunately, she was wearing a thong. No protection at all. 

My hand began its work. The initial slaps on her bare bottom rang out in the room along with her squeals. It was glaringly appraent this girl had never been properly spanked. We were correcting that rather quickly. She was kicking and wriggling. Her bototm was now uniformly pink from the top of her hips to her spank spot. Tears were being fought but she lost the battle after 10 rapid fire spanks and she sobbed as I cupped her bottom and checked the heat. Medium well, so far.

I stood her up and marched her to the corner. "Keep that dress up, girl." SMACK! "Yes, sir!" she cried.

I looked at Mike. He smiled and gave me a quiet applause. He went over to her and asked if she was ok. She nodded. I sat down in the chair and called her over. She remained in the corner. I called her over agaqin. No response. I got up and walked behind her. "Are you disobeying me, young lady? Are you testing me? Most girls who do are delirious with fever if they do. Is that your problem?" She had no idea how to answer that. When Mike and I had lunch he shared that this girl was anal curious. She was about to find an interesting discipinary method.

I looked at Mike and nodded to him. "I have to see if you have a fever, miss. Get over the bed." She bent over the bed. Her firery bottom upended. Mike came in with the rubber glove, lube and rectal thermometer.

"Spread your cheeks, girl." She reached around crying out loud. "I'm sorry. Please...."

"Wider!" I commanded. I greased up a few fingers and slowly, knuckle by knuckle inserted them into her tight but hungy bottom. "ooooooooh, please, I'll be good." She was loving this. The lube was being mixed with a river of wetness from between her legs. Mike came over and slowly inserted the thermomter. "Hold it in there." was her charge. She buried her head in her hands as Mike held the thermometer in place.

A beep announced it was time to read the result: 98.6. She wasn't sick at all. Just obstinant. 

"It looks like you're healthy enough to take the rest of your punishment, miss. Stay right there. Lift up. Get over these pillows."

Now her bottom elevated for the strap. The crack of leather over her tender pink cheeks rung in our ears. She yelped but her hips pumped up and down and slowly grinded into the pillows. Mike and I looked at each other and smiled. I gave her the strapping of her young life. She was in full throated crying and begging to be a good girl if I stopped. The back of her thigh and her bottom were angry red. She was learning her lesson.

"Up you go, little girl." I put my belt back through the rungs. She was clutching her bottom and hopping from foot to foot. Bending backwards, arching her back. "Sir, I've learned my lesson, please."

"I'm not finished with you, girl. You showed quick an amount of disrespect a few minutes ago. It's time you learned that isn't acceptable. Get that bath brush and bring it to me. Now!"

Another tsunami of tears gushed from her crystal blue eyes as she minced her way over to the brush. She brought it over to me and as she presented it to me she cried: "I'm sorry I disrespected you. I am. Please don't spank me too hard. Please....." Over she went.

Nonstop swats blistered her cheeks in a matter of seconds. Her bottom was swollen, angry red, bruised and in places, blistered. By the time I finished she was hoarse from crying and limp over my knee. I picked her up and held her tightly. She cried as if her heart had been broken. 

"It's ok. Shhhhhhhh, it's alright. Go ahead. Yes. Cry it out." I rocked her back and forth until she calmed down. I thumbed away a dozen tears traveling down her cheeks. "Are you going to be a good girl  for me?" She sniffled and nodded, "Yes, sir. I will. Thank you, sir."

I looked at Mike and he just nodded. I let her go and she walked to him. He gave her a strong embrace and whispered to her. She nodded and giggled. We went back to the living room. The well-spanked girl stood as Mike and I collected ourselves. I made sure she was ok and that Mike got what he wanted. Everyone agreed. 

I spent another 10 minutes there and as I was putting on my jacked, she came to me and said: "Sir, would you please give me another hand spanking?" What's a guy to do?

I heard from the girl several times afterwards. Mike had left her for a woman we was going to spend the next year or so with. The girl I spanked put photos of her well-punished bottom with the caption: "this is my blistered bottom. Thank you so much, Logan."

Unfortnately, we never got together again. She left college and I haven't heard from her. Mike and I are still in touch. Who knows? I might have another story sooner than we think.

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