Chapter 3, Introduction to the Strap

[amarok]

Over the next couple of years my spankings went from 1 or 2 a month, to 5 or 6. Maggie realized that I was misbehaving on purpose so she would give me another spanking. One Friday she sat me down and told me that I didn’t need to be bad to get a spanking. If I wanted, she would spank me once a week as a reward for not being bad, but if I did misbehave, she would give me the strap.

Well, I was still afraid of my father and his belt, so I didn’t want the strap. Maggie got up and went to her bedroom for the hairbrush. She then led me into the kitchen pulled out a chair and told me to drop my pants. This was going to be my first spanking “just because”, and I was scared because I’d done nothing wrong.

Maggie pulled me over her lap and spanked me with her hand for several minutes before she switched to her brush. Years later I learned that a good warmup prevented bruising. She spanked me with her brush until I was limp and sobbing over her lap. She rubbed my back and told me how good I was and how well I take a spanking until I was composed enough to stand and pull up my pants. She then hugged me, kissed my cheek and told me she loved me.

Granted, I was sore for a few days after that spanking, but I was on cloud 9. I didn’t have to be bad and I got spanked very well every Friday. That went on for about a year and needless to say, having a sore bottom over the weekend kept me in line. Things changed drastically when I hit puberty.

The first time Maggie pulled down my pants and was greeted by an erection, she stood up, told me to take off my shoes and pants and then led me into the living room. She had me kneel on the couch with my arms on the back and then began to spank me with her hand. She went beyond the normal spanking and my cheeks must have been cherry red when she switched to the brush. That’s when I learned that spanking was a sexual turn on.

Now, every Friday was kneel on the couch for my spanking and I really missed being over her lap, The loss of intimacy hurt and I didn’t know how to tell her. So I did something really stupid. A friend raided his father’s booze, whiskey, gin, vodka, tequila all in one jar. It tasted so bad, we walked a mile to a store and got 4 cans of 7 UP. Did we ever get smashed, Ben pucked his guts out and I left him laying in his back yard. I couldn’t go home in that condition, so I staggered to Maggie’s.

She taught me not to lie and I told her what we’d done. She called my parents and told them that I was helping her and she would feed me dinner, so I didn’t have to go home. She put me to bed so I could sleep it off and never raised her voice, thank God. About 10 that night she woke me up and sent me home, with the ominous warning, “I’m not waiting until next Friday”.

I knew I was in trouble, but it took me two days to recover from my first time getting drunk. When I finally went to Maggie’s, she was very kind and hugged me for a long time before ordering me to take off my pants. I knew this was coming, so I kicked off my shoes and took off my pants. Maggie went to her bedroom and came back with her hairbrush and a leather strap with holes in it. She was all business now and ordered me to kneel on the couch. She didn’t warm me up with her hand, she started right off with her brush. I didn’t count, but she smacked my butt for a long time, I’m sure it was over 200 swats.

She laid the brush on the coffee table and spoke for the first time. She told me how disappointed she was with me and I deserved the strapping for being so stupid. The first stroke nearly made me jump out the window. It didn’t sting like the brush, it burned and she was far from finished. I tried to get away from the strap, but she would order me to, “get back into position”. It was after about 30 strokes that I surrendered and just accepted what she gave. I never counted the strokes, but the strap could take me to another place and I would be lifting my bottom for every stroke.

I got spanked on Friday, drunk on Saturday and the strap on Tuesday. I was mesmerize by her strap and I felt very alone. I missed the intimacy of being over her lap. That Friday I showed up for my regular spanking and when she finished, I curled up on the couch. She sat down beside me and held me until I could speak. It was damned hard to put into words, but I told her how much I missed being over her lap and how her strap made me feel.

After that, every Friday I took off my pants, got a good warm up with her hand, a cherry red bottom with her brush and her strap until I melted. Then she had me stand up, (I no longer had an erection due to the pain in my butt), she sat down on the couch, pulled me across her lap and spanked me back to earth. Is it any wonder that I’m a spanko?

[redzonedefense_F]

No wonder at all! Thoughtfully handled.