A gay story: Spanks For Asking Polite talk, in general, requires staying within “accepted” boundries. For example, asking someone about mastrubation could cause trouble. You just don’t ask and nobody talks about it. It’s like noboby does it!
What about spanking? Nobody ever got spanked when they were younger. Or did they? What about now? Does anybody want to, or do they?
I asked Al, a 19 year old college student from my club, just when was the last time you got a good spanking. I risked everything, our friendship and my reputation, to hear about his experience. He looked disturbed, he didn’t want to have this conversation, so he made some space between us.
Now that I’m 40 I feel like I’ve become a dirty old man especially since I now do ask those kinds of questions. Al’s distance really made me feel guilty.
Later, after our exercises and our showers, independent-as he kept his distance; Al told me that he would tell me everything and in detail, “not now! Come to my house tomorrow morning and we’ll talk.”
I arrived at exactly 9 am as instructed. I didn’t want to miss the conversation for anything and I knew that his house would be empty, except for Al, at that hour. We would be alone.
Al is tall and lean, not muscular, and quite handsome. He has a very sexy voice. I really like sexy voices. So when Al received me at the front door and I heard the tone in his voice, I just didn’t know what to think or do. Should I just abandon this idea or just keep going.
He invited me in and told to me to just wait in the hall. I stood just where he wanted me to and from where I was I could see Al piss. He lowered his zipper and pulled out his penis and pissed. He shook it and put it back. He zipped himself and washed his hands. He then walked-up right into my face and told me; “You’ll get exactly what I got!” And then he led me into the bedroom.
Once we were inside, he turned and ceremoniuously locked the door. “Young men who don’t do as their told are treated just like the little boys they pretend to be.” That tone, again! That tone really bothered me. What happened to Al’s, Oh! so sexy voice?
He turned walked to the closet and pulled out a well worn heavy leather belt and told me, “pants and underpants down to your ankles NOW! and fast-like BOY!” That tone. I just stood there looking at him. He then raised the belt and brought it down hard on my left forearm, and then as fast and hard as he could, on my right forearm. It burned like fire. I moved my hands to smooth the pain and just then: “GET THOSE PANTS DOWN BOY!” I moved! My pants and underpants were quickly around my ankles and red welts formed across each forearm, burning.
“You’re shirt-tail is covering you as if it were wearing somekind of mini-skirt. Lift-up your shirt, BOY! Pull it up under you armpits so your ass and mid-section are showing.” I did. I was just standing there with my pants and underpants around my ankles and my shirt-tail raised and tucked under my armpits.
With my genitals and my assed exposed and that’s when it, the lecture, began: “In this house youngmen who behave badly are treated like the little boys they pretend to be.” Looking straight into my eyes, “This is just how I get it! Rude people who ask such intimate questions deserve to be punished. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir! They do!” I answered. “I’m sorry that I offened you and, yes! you are right I do deserve…He raised his hand to stop me and I just stopped talking.
In that tone: “I’ll be the one to say who deserves what…You deserve to be treated like the little boy that you are. The little boy who does not know his place, when to keep silent and what not to say or ask. You will bend over and place your hands on your knees. You will not move nor try to reach behind you or you will be punished more severely.Now bend over!”
I felt embarrassed and nervous. A chill ran down my spine and I took a deep breath and I bent over, hands on my knees. Just as I touched my knees, I felt the belt slap the middle of my ass. I felt the burning pain like on my forearms and I wanted to jump up and grab my ass, but I resisted. I moved my head from side to side in an effort to shake off the pain. But no sooner that my head moved from right to left the second “slap” burned my ass and I jumped up and hollowed: “Yeeoow!” And my hands moved to cover my ass.
In that tone, “we’re in for a very very long morning, young man. You stay still and do exactly as you are told or we will continue until you do. GET YOUR ASS DOWN!” Al shouted.
I wanted to cry. I wanted it to end. My forearms burned and my ass burned even more. Just then “slap” the belt came down hard accros the back of my left leg.
“Get your ass down!”
And I shouted: “No more. Stop!”
“Slap” The belt came down even harder on the back of my right leg.
I shouted even louder: “No more. Stop!” And I started to cry. I turned to Al and and I just fell on his shoulder and cried like a baby. I cried and cried. Tears and sobs. I hugged him just as hard as I could and I just wailed. It all came out.
The I felt Al return my hug and we stood there, me crying and he holding on to me just as hard as he could. I never felt closer to anyone.
“Keep crying,” Al said so tenderly. His tone had faded and his normal voice had come back. I felt so special. That wonderful soothing voice. “Just let it all out.”
And I cried and cried.
Then suddenly, in that tone, “OK, now, bend over and lets get this over with.”
I almost fell over. What happened to the tenderness?
I couldn’t do anything. I felt nothing anymore but shame, for letting myself get into this situation. Stoicly I bent over and placed my hands on my knees. My forearms, my ass and thighs burned. I felt the belt slap the center of my asa, “Slaaap!” The hardest and most painful.
“Oh, pleeeesssse!” I cried.
“Slaaap” It was just as hard as the last and just as painful. I heard him take a coupe of steps back in order to get some running room. And he jump forward to get as much into the swing as possible.
“Slaaap,” It was the most painful one so far!
I jumped and screamed, “Yeeeooow!” My pants and underpants slid under my feet and they were completely on the floor and I was just jumping on them, up and down. It was like I was trying to run away from the pain.
“Slaaap,” It too was a running leap onto my burning ass. This one struck on the crease of where the thigh and the ass meet.
“Oh, Pleeazzz!” I cried, “I’ll do better!”
“Slap, slap, slap.” Three quick slaps on my tender ass and I was screamed and wailed.
“Pleeazz! I promise!” I don’t know exactly what I was promising, but I was willing to promise and do almost anything for this to end. “Pleeazz, please, please!” I cried.
Again, three hard slaps, one after the other, “Slap, slap, slap” burned across my ass, and I screamed: “Pleaszz stop. I promise to do better!” I don’t know exactly what I was promising, but the promises seemed to flow just as quickly as my shoe-prints on my clothes for I just kept jumping. It seems that I just kept trying to run off the pain.
Then just as quickly as it all began it stopped. And Al told me, in that voice:”go to the restroom and clean yourself up.”
I cleaned-up and dressed and Al led me to the door where he kissed me good-bye and in his tender voice, “Now you know what it’s like in my house!”