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I think this is a good post, and you’ve gotten some good feedback. I’ll lend a few thoughts from my perspective as well . First of all, I think you have already acknowledged the main point: need. For those of us who are born spankos, spanking goes well beyond something we simply “want” in our lives. It is, rather, a genuine need. It is a form of communication and interaction that just registers with us mentally and emotionally. Disciplinary spankings satisfy a need to feel cared for, protected, accountable, and safe. Other spankings, meaning everything else (“good girl” spankings, erotic, maintenance, and just because) satisfy personal connection, belonging, and intimacy needs. Incidentally, on Maslow’s hierarchy, safety needs and intimacy needs are outweighed only by physical/physiological needs. 🤓 For spankos spanking is a form of affection, no matter which kind. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel that connection. I will echo what others have said and say it sounds like your needs would fit nicely into a maintenance kind of dynamic. I’ve done some thinking about this recently myself and see where it could/would be beneficial. Maintenance doesn’t have to be a stand alone or super structured thing, unless you want it to be. For example, in the midst of gg, or just because spankings, there can be small reminders of goals. Statements of caution or encouragement, depending on where you are with your goals, coupled with a few harder spanks to illustrate the difference between the spankings that are wanted and the ones that are unwanted. It keeps things fresh in your mind and assures you that someone is paying attention. Not long ago I was in a place much like what you describe as “sabotaging yourself.” And I realized too late that it was some sort of boundary testing thing. I still don’t fully understand the why, but I do know that something about having limits reinforced occasionally feels safe. What I learned is that it’s much better to say what you need. It’s better for the relationship, communication and trust between myself and my spanker, as well as being vastly better for the state of my bottom. Breaking rules intentionally, or even unconsciously will ultimately just make you feel guilty. And if done repeatedly, would eventually cause your spanker to wonder if they were actually helping you. Talk to your mentor. Explain the feelings and thoughts you’ve been having openly and honestly. I’m sure together you can come up with a plan that works.

Hi there. Just joining. New to all this and Learning.

Part 1 of a two part story. Credit for the concept goes to a certain naughty young lady on the forum in desperate need of a good thrashing. “John, I’m sorry… okay? Abby said from the SUV’s backseat, her words slurring drunkenly. The man in the driver seat tightened his lips, the headlights of a passing truck illuminating his face as he glared through the rearview mirror at the woman in the backseat. “Another word out of you and I’m pulling this car over.” He didn’t have to elaborate on what would happen after. Abby pouted and slouched back into her seat. It wasn’t fair. Why did these things always have to happen to her? Sure, she knew she wasn’t allowed to drink Saturday evenings. Sunday was supposed to be a day the two of them spent together, and John had made it clear he didn’t want to deal with her being tired or hungover in the morning. Gingerly, she touched her bottom. It was still slightly tender from the last time she’d misbehaved. This time, it really wasn’t her fault though. It was only supposed to be a drink or two. She was going to be completely sober by the time she got home. What John didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him… Or her bottom. Of course, after two drinks a third and fourth didn’t seem like a big deal, and everything had blurred together a bit after that. At some point, she’d come back from using the bathroom to find that her friends had left to another bar without her. There was nothing left to do but face the music, and call John to pick her up from the bar. Abby was terminally unlucky when it came to misbehavior. Somehow, John had a nose for sniffing out even the smallest infractions. And now she was going to get punished for something that wasn’t her fault. “It’s not my fault.” The words left her lips at the exact same moment she realized what a tremendously foolish thing that was to say. But her mouth kept moving seemingly on it’s own, digging the hole she was in deeper by the second. “If my friends hadn’t ditched me, I would have been fine. I only had a few-“ John’s gaze flickered back to her in the mirror, and he flicked on the turn signal. Abby stopped mid-sentence, the words caught in her throat. A few moments later, the car ground to a halt on the shoulder of the highway. John flipped off the ignition with finality, and stepped out of the car. Abby suddenly found herself extremely busy studying her shoes. Only a few moments later, she found herself staring at the silver paint on the hood of John’s SUV- her expression desperate as she tried to think of ways to get out of her predicament. There was a click, as John unbuckled her jeans and yanked them down to her ankles. The panties followed immediately after, and Abby gasped as she felt the cool evening air on her bottom. “We’ve discussed this before. You were already going to get spanked, and now you’ve made it worse for yourself. Understood?” Abby pouted and frowned down at the hood. SMACK! John’s calloused hand came down hard on her ass, but Abby bit down on her lip and stayed quiet. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Understood?” Abby buried her face in her hands as she was illuminated in the headlights of a passing car. “I’m sorry, okay?” “That’s not the tone I’m looking for.” WHACK! John’s hand came down hard and fast, landing squarely on Abby’s sitspots. “Owwww… John, please!” “Hush, you were asking for this.” He said, continuing to “People might see!” “You sure didn’t seem to care whether people saw me come in to pick your drunk ass up from the bar.” “That’s not fair- Oww!” “Another word out of you, and I’ll have you kneeling nude on the hood of the car while I go cut some switches. Understood?” Abby’s face got redder than it already was. “Yes sir.” For the next 10 minutes, John kept up a steady pace with his hand- striking precisely in the same spot each time as he alternated between cheeks. All Abby could do is whimper quietly and wait for him to finish. Eventually, he paused. “Almost done.” John said and popped open the passenger door. Abby heard him rummage around inside, and then close the door again. And then she heard him pop the lid off the bottle of Capsaicin cream that he’d put in the car for “emergencies.” She had her mouth half open to protest, and then thought better of it. The cream felt cool, almost soothing as he spread it over her bottom- but Abby knew well enough that it wouldn’t stay that way. “Another ten minutes ought to do it.” John said nonchalantly, and then resumed spanking at the same pace he had before. It wasn’t long before the heat of the cream began to build and mount with the spanking. Mercifully, John had kept it away from Abby’s more sensitive regions- she had experienced well enough in the past what a powerful motivator it could be when applied there. About 5 minutes in, John abruptly stopped. Abby glanced over her shoulder in confusion- into the glaring headlights of a police cruiser. Her heart dropped into her stomach. “John.” She whispered, desperately. “Please let me get up.” “No.” he said firmly. “You stay right where you are. I’ll go talk to him.” Abby heard the crunch of his footsteps fade away and found herself wishing a massive pothole would open up and swallow her whole. “Evening, Officer.” John said as the middle aged officer got out of his patrol car. “Evening. You folks run into any trouble? Saw you stopped on the side of the road and thought-“ The officer’s eyes flickered to the hood of the car for a moment, and he gave John a knowing smile. “Ah, I see.” John shrugged amicably. “You know how it is sometimes.” “Mhmm.” The older man nodded. “You folks have a good night.” Abby remained in position, completely mortified as the police cruiser pulled back onto the highway. Even though John wasn’t spanking her, the sting of the Capsaicin continued to build in waves. John walked nonchalantly back towards the hood of the car, and tapped her bottom sharply twice with his hand. “Where were we now? Oh, right.” And picked of exactly where he’d left off, without skipping a beat. Five minutes later, Abby was squirming in her seat, pants and panties still around her ankles as John drove the SUV down the freeway. The burning from the spanking and Capsaicin cream was made all the worse by the fact that he’d put a rough straw mat down on her seat. Yeah, John was the kind of guy to keep that in his SUV at all times… “Just in case” “We’re taking the scenic route.” John said nonchalantly. “The one with the bumpy gravel road.” “Yes sir.” “When we do get home, you are going to have a nice hot shower and then wait for me in the corner. Do you understand?” Things just kept going from bad to worse, Abby thought to herself. “Do you understand?” John repeated, his voice stern. “Yes sir.”

Nipple clamps or clips sound like a wonderful form of discipline. The pain can be quite overpowering and I can only imagine that scolding and promises to behave better would be so much more effective when done while enduring that. I just worry a little that "bull clips" are a bit hit or miss. The difference between moderately painful, horribly painful, and dangerous might be small, and bull clips are not really designed for that. There must be some specifically designed nipple clips that have adjustable force so they can be set to match the pain tolerance limit of the one being disciplined without any risk of injury. I don't know much about this, but I am sure there are others here who have actual expertise in this area.

Miranda Pine was always told she looked young for her age. When she was a child, she was told she looked like a toddler. When she was a teenager, she was told she could still pass for a child. And now that she was 27, an adult, she didn't NOT look like an adult, but if you told someone she was only 14, they'd probably believe you. She still had the young face, and being 5 foot even and skinny didn't help. Even now, as a new officer for her local law agency, Miranda still got kidded on by her fellow officers for looking so young. "I didn't know they let kids join the force," was something she heard a variation of more than once, and after 20+ years of remarks, she didn't let it get to her anymore. She didn't know it, as she sat in another full team meeting in the office, but her natural youngish looks would come in handy today. "So after going through all the busts and all the connections we've linked, we're pretty sure that the source of the local drug problem is Our Lady of Perpetual Pain high school," the chief said as he stood before all his seated officers. He pressed a button on his remote, and a picture of the local catholic school popped up on the powerpoint presentation in the front of the room. "No one's talking or giving anyone up, but everyone we've picked up and busted has a relative attending or teaching at that school. It's the only common denominator we have right now." "Do we know if it's a teacher or a student who's selling the stuff?" asked an officer. "Right now we're not entirely sure to make that call, BUT we do have someone of interest on our sights," the chief began, pushing the button again. A picture of a young blonde student popped up on the screen. "This is Alison Glimley. She's a student there. 17 years old, a senior. We've done some digging, and the scumbags we've busted have daughters who are friends with her, and two of them were busted on the street she lives on. It's nothing concrete, but she's our prime focus." "So what do we do? Do we contact the school?" asked Miranda. "Tried it. The school won't allow any of us in to investigate. Headmaster says us coming in to check out a student would ruin the school's public image. As if the catholic church needs OUR help to make them look bad when it comes to minors." "What a bunch of shit," an officer said. "Indeed. But they're a private school and they won't budge. So we're going to go a different route. Officer Pine, can I speak to you privately?" "You want me to go back to school?" Miranda asked. She and the Chief were alone in his office. "Technically, yes. You're the only one here who can pass for a high schooler. God bless your genes, pun unintended." "So what am I supposed to do?" "We've pulled some strings with the people in admissions and enrolled you in the school as a mid-year transfer student. We want you in there, go through the motions of a student, and see what you can find out. Get close to Alison Glimley. Once we can verify she's our person, we pull you out and take it from there." "So is anyone going to know I'm an officer?" "NO. You are strictly undercover. The only person in that building who knows you're not a student is YOU. And it BETTER stay that way. If your cover is blown, we'll be in a world of shit. And by we, I mean you. Got it?" "Yes chief." "Good. Now let's get you your uniform." "Uniform?" A few moments later, Miranda walked out of the bathroom in a white button down shirt tucked into a red skirt that went down to her knees. On her feet were white socks that went up her shins and black dress shoes. She looked miserable. The chief smirked. "I hate this," she moaned. "You forgot part of the uniform," the chief teased. "What? My dignity?" "Nope. These." The chief laughed as he held up a pair of white granny panties. Miranda went wide eyed in disgust. "Oh, no no no. I'm wearing my own underwear, thank you very much." "But it's part of the uniform, you have to wear it. They came directly from the school." "No, I don't. Not like anyone's going to be looking up my skirt to check, anyway. Now when do I start?" At 7am the following Monday, Miranda showed up to the gates of Our Lady of Perpetual Pain in her brand new school uniform, minus the granny panties. She wore her brunette hair in pigtails to help sell the illusion. She felt embarrassed, but knew it had to be done. As she walked down the main hallway with fellow students shuffling in for the school day, she held her schedule out, trying to find her locker. Despite being dressed like every other girl, her naivety made her stick out like a sore thumb. As she wandered without looking, she bumped into a senior girl, causing her to drop her coffee on the floor. "Son of a bitch!" yelled the senior. "Sorry!" Miranda shouted as she rushed past. The student narrowed her eyes as she watched Miranda go. "Hmm. New meat," she mentioned to her friend. "Let's give her a warm welcome." Miranda managed to find her locker and open it when the senior girl and her friend popped up next to her. "Hi, are you new?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," Miranda said, momentarily startled. "I'm Miranda." "Nice. This is Lauren, and I'm Alison." Miranda went wide eyed. "Alison Glimley?" Alison was shocked but smiled. "Wow, first day and you already know who runs the show here. That's impressive! Since you're new here, we'd love to show you around." "Wow, that'd be great!" Miranda smiled big. She couldn't believe her good luck. "Good! So this is your locker," Alison began before she and Lauren grabbed her, "And this is the inside of it!" They forcefully shoved Miranda into her locker, and the officer, taken by surprise, was unable to fight back. "Whoa hey!" she cried as Alison slammed the door shut on her. "Hey! Let me out!" "Consider that payment for my coffee. You better watch your back, newbie." She and Lauren laughed as they walked away. The schoolbell rang and everyone quickly rushed out of the hallway to their respective classes. After a minute or so there was no one left in the hallway, save for the sounds coming from Miranda's locker. "Let me out! Someone! Please!" After a few moments of kicking, Miranda finally kicked the door open and crawled out of the locker. She adjusted herself and fixed her hair, frazzled and red faced from the experience she just went through. As she looked at her schedule again to try and figure out where to go, a deep voice called out. "And just WHAT are you doing, young lady?!" Miranda looked up to see an elderly nun approaching her. She was speechless until the 5 foot 10 nun stood before her, towering over her menacingly. "Well?!" "I, uh, I, I" Miranda stammered. "What are you doing out in the hallway and not in class?!" "I, I don't know where it is, an-" "And what happened to your locker?! Did you break it?!" "I, I didn't! I was locked inside, and-" "Young lady I don't want to hear excuses. This is not a cartoon, you were not IN your locker. And why don't you know where your class is?" "I, I'm new, and-" "New, eh?" The nun ripped Miranda's schedule from her hand and looked at it. "I see. That explains why I've never seen you before.. Miranda. I'm Sister Chapman, and I'm the head nun of the school." "Nice to, uh, meet you." "Now, I'll forgive the tardiness for today and today only, but I am not impressed with you for breaking the locker, so I'll be keeping my eye on you. These lockers are old - they've been here since the 70s, which is how long I've been here. I know this school and its students backward and forward, so don't think I won't notice if you do any kind of stunt like that again. Understand?!" "I, yes m'am!" "Good. You're already on one strike. And this isn't baseball. One MORE strike and you'll end up in detention. Understand?" "Yes m'am." "Good. Now let's get you to class." Sister Chapman walked Miranda to her first class, english. After that she managed to find her way around the school, going from class to class, laying low and trying not to answer any questions from any teachers after the unavoidable "new student introductions" she kept enduring. During 5th period lunch, she snuck off to the bathroom and went into a stall and called the chief. "Pine! How's your first day of school?" "Not great. The head nun already has it out for me." "What?! Why? What did you do?" "I had a little run-in with Alison Glimley." "Pine! You didn't accuse her of selling drugs, did you?!" "Not at all. We just don't seem to like each other, is all." "You don't HAVE to like each other. You're supposed to find out if she's the supplier. Maybe try to make friends with her." "I'll see what I can do, chief." "Listen to me, Pine. Don't rock the boat. We don't need nuns and teachers looking at you funny. You are to complete the mission undetected and NOT be caught. Understand?" "Yes chief." "Good. Good luck." He hung up. "Shit." Miranda washed her hands and went back out into the cafeteria and got a tray of food when she noticed, at a table in the back, sat Alison and Lauren. Miranda swallowed her pride, wished herself the best of luck, and approached their table. Alison noticed her as she approached and laughed maliciously. "Hey look, it's our new friend. And we were just about to pop by your locker to see if you were still in there." Miranda force smiled. "Haha, no, I'm out. And I wanted to... apologize... for the coffee this morning. I'm new here and I was trying to find my way around. I'd really love it if we could... start over?" Alison thought about it for a second and shrugged. "Sure, have a seat." Miranda sat down next to Alison. "So, where did you go before you came here?" "Uh, a school in California. I moved here from there." "Wow, California, nice. How do you like it here so far?" "It's.. okay, I guess. A little overwhelming." "I get it. Hey, I think I have something that'll help you feel a little less overwhelmed." "Really? What?" "I can't say it here in front of everyone, but..." Alison leaned in and whispered, "it's guaranteed to have you high." Miranda couldn't believe it. It was falling right into her lap. She could be out of that school that day and never go back. "Have me high? I.." "Op! Not another word! Meet me in the girl's bathroom on the 3rd floor next to the stairwell at 1pm and I'll give it to you. But DON'T tell anyone. Got it?" "I won't. And I'll be there. I promise." "Good! I'm so excited!" "Me too!" Miranda sat through her 12:35pm class after lunch practically staring at the clock. She couldn't believe how fast this came together. It was like Alison was just handing herself over to her. It was a rough morning, but at least the afternoon looked better. At 12:55pm, Miranda asked to be excused to go to the bathroom. Taking her bag with her, she rushed through the empty hall and found the 3rd floor bathroom like Alison said. As she walked, she texted the chief. "About to get confirmation that Alison is our girl..." she texted. Miranda walked into the bathroom at exactly 1pm and saw Alison standing at a sink, looking at the mirror and adjusting her make up. "Hey, you made it," she said, not looking away. "Yeah," Miranda said, approaching her. "So uh, where is it?" "Right here," Alison said. She snapped her fingers. Before Miranda could do anything, Lauren appeared from behind her and reached down the back of her skirt. She grabbed the back of Miranda's pink rainbow panties and pulled up on them hard, lifting her up into the air. "Wedgie!" Lauren laughed. Miranda began kicking her legs to escape. "OW! OW LET GO!" Miranda cried as she kicked. Alison turned and laughed. "I told you, I had something for you that would get you high. I didn't say it would be a wedgie, but just look how high you are right now!" Lauren kept lifting Miranda up into the air by her panties. Miranda kicked and flailed to try and be let go, but it was useless. "Ouch! Ouch this hurts! Why?!" "Just a little taste to remind you who runs things around here. And to stop trying to get so chummy with me. I don't know what your deal is, but I'm not interested. So you stay away from me, got it?" Lauren responded to Alison's question by yanking up harder on Miranda's panties. "OW! YES!" "Good. Cute undies by the way. Non regulation too. Look at you, being a rebel." Alison and Lauren laughed as the latter kept pulling Miranda up into the air. "Ow! Please let me go! Please ow!" "You heard her, Lau. Let her go," Alison instructed. Lauren propped Miranda up to a coat hook on the wall and hung her by the back of her panties there, letting her hang in mid air. "Ow! Ouch ouch let me down! Let me down right now!" Miranda cried. "Have fun hanging around," Alison laughed as she and Lauren left the bathroom. Miranda struggled hanging there, kicking against the wall until finally her panties came unsnapped from the hook and she fell down on to the floor. As much pain as she was in, she saw red. Not even stopping to adjust herself, Miranda threw open the bathroom door and took off down the hall, looking for her tormentors. As she ran, she took out her phone and started texting the chief again. "Never mind, I-" "OPE!" Miranda ran smack into Sister Chapman, who was turning from a corner down the hall Miranda was running down. "Young lady! Again I find you breaking a rule?!" roared the nun. Miranda was scared shitless. "I, I" "Running down the halls? Texting during school hours?!" Sister Chapman furiously grabbed Miranda's phone from her, only to notice her pink panties stretched out above her skirt. "And what are those?! Non regulation underpants?!" "Sister, I," "I don't want to hear it! I let you slide with the locker and now I find you causing trouble and breaking more rules. That's it. Young lady, you just bought yourself detention." "But Sist-" "I don't want to hear it. Now, come with me," she said, storming down the hall. Miranda sheepishly followed, adjusting her panties and putting them back down her skirt. Sister Chapman opened the door to a conventional classroom except the walls were barren. No posters or anything - just a miserable quiet room with students desks, a teacher desk and a chalkboard. In the back of the classroom was a closet. She stormed in and a worried Miranda followed. The nun shut the door behind her and locked them both in. "Sit down," she instructed. Miranda followed it. "School ends in an hour. You're to spend that remaining hour, plus an additional hour, in here with me. You're responsible for any schoolwork you missed during this time." "Yes m'am." Sister Chapman sat at the teacher desk at the front and realized she still had Miranda's phone in her hand. She looked at it - and saw Miranda's text. "About to get confirmation?" the nun asked out loud. "To a Chief? What is the meaning of this?" "Sister, those are MY texts." "Are you... come here," she demanded. Scared, Miranda stood up and walked up to Sister Chapman who studied her closely. "You're... you're not a teenager." Miranda went white as a ghost. "I, yes I am?" "Spare me the nonsense. You may look young but I can tell you're an adult. Now explain to me how old you really are and what's going on before I call the police. Or maybe I'll call this chief here and HE can explain it." Miranda gulped. She was busted. "Okay. Okay. My name is Miranda Pine, I'm 27, and I'm an officer with local law enforcement. We have reason to believe that one of your students, Alison Glimley, is the source of drugs to the community, and we needed confirmation." Sister Chapman nodded, taking it all in. "And why are you here pretending to be a student, making a mockery of our very school?" "School officials wouldn't allow us to investigate, so we decided it appropriate to have me go undercover to try and determine if Alison is the source." "And IS she?" "I... I don't know." "You don't know. You're here pretending to be a student, trying to accuse another student of being a drug dealer, and you don't even know if she is. What proof do you have?" "I... I don't." "I see. So this is all a big farce, huh?" "No, I swear. We're pretty sure, but we just... need more time." "I see. And I suppose I should let you continue this little game of private investigation?" "I would appreciate it. Otherwise I'd be in big trouble for getting caught." "And you're already in big trouble now... but I will admit that Glimley girl is a bit of a nasty child. And the drug problem in this community is out of control." "Yes, so you see why I did what I did, and why I want to continue." "I see. I suppose if it's for the good of the community, I can allow it." "That's great. Thank you Sister!" Miranda headed for the door, feeling better, before Sister Chapman stopped her. "Where are you going?" "Back to class?" "Oh, no dear. You still have detention." "Are you serious?" "Very much so. Despite your efforts being noble, you lied to me. You lied to school officials. You harassed a student without concrete proof of wrongdoing. You want to be a student? Fine. You’re a student. But you’ll be treated just like a student. And as a student you’re still in detention. MY detention. And if you're going to be a student in my detention, you're going to be punished like a student in my detention." "I... okay. I'm sorry, I'll sit back down," Miranda said. "Oh no, dear. I'm afraid that won't work." "What?" "Well, students like Glimley, and like you, seem to think you can do whatever you want. Talk back, go to class late, lie to school officials. It shows a true lack of proper discipline. Back in the 70s when I was just starting here, there was discipline. Students were kept in line. Unfortunately with time changing and laws changing, it's harder to enforce the proper discipline that keep girls acting right. And as a result, we get troublemakers like her and you." Miranda tried to follow but was confused. "I.. don't understand." "I'm a firm believer in corporal punishment as the best form of discipline for my students. Now while I can't properly discipline students like Glimley as she's a minor, I CAN properly discipline you. An adult who's a student." "...I..." "With a spanking." "...a spanking?" "Yes. Spanking is the best way to discipline, though it's frowned upon in this modern day for students who are under 18. But you, 27? You're the right age for it." "Uh, Sister, I don't think a spanking is necessary." "And as your head nun, and the head of detention, I've decided it is for you, one of my students. Unless of course you want me to put the brakes on your little investigation." "No, you can't!" "Then as long as you're a student in my school, you'll be punished by me as I see fit. And that is with the proper corporal punishment you deserve. So make your choice." Miranda stood quiet for a moment running over her options, before squeezing her eyes shut and admitting defeat. "I'll... I'll take it." "Alright. You've lied to school officials, you lied to me, made serious accusations against another student without proof, and in the process broken multiple rules, so I will not be going light on you. I have you in my detention for two hours and I will be using it properly. Do you understand?" "..yes." "Good. Now. Take my chair and place it in front of my desk." Sister Chapman stood up and Miranda took her chair and picked it up and brought it from around the desk and placed it in front. The nun took her seat. "Come stand to my right," she instructed. A nervous Miranda did as she was told. "Lift your skirt and hold it up.” Miranda lifted her skirt up and held it up, exposing her panties to Chapman. “Turn around. Show your bottom to me.” Miranda, keeping her skirt lifted, turned around and faced her back to the nun. "Just like I saw. You want to come to my school and pretend to be a student, and you can't even wear the right underwear," she said, pulling back on Miranda's pink panties and letting them snap back at her ass. "I'm sorry," Miranda squeaked. "You will be," said Chapman. “Turn around and face me again.” Miranda turned back around and faced the nun, who reached out and took the sides of Miranda’s panties and began pulling them down. "Whoa whoa," Miranda said, dropping her skirt and backing up. "What are you doing?!" "Excuse me? I'm taking these ridiculous panties down." "Why?! I'll get a regulation pair!" "Yes you will, AFTER detention. Before then, you will receive a proper punishment on your bare bottom, as it's meant to be." "No no, not bare!" "Yes bare. Now cut it out or I will keep you for another detention tomorrow too. Is that what you want?" Miranda paused before slowly shaking her head now. "No m'am..." "Good. Now lift your skirt up and don’t let it go." Miranda raised her skirt up again showing her panties, which Sister Chapman again grabbed and pulled them down. She brought them down to Miranda’s knees, before letting. Miranda felt like she could die of embarrassment as she was completely exposed in front of the elderly nun.. rubbing her chubby white butt. And then the spanking began. She began with slow, firm, hard slaps, alternating between the butt cheeks. "Ow! Ouch!" Miranda moaned with each slap. She'd never been spanked before and, for an old lady, Sister Chapman spanked hard. The nun kept her pace going, about one spank per every 5 seconds, immediately followed by Miranda yelping in pain. After a minute or two, the nun began spanking faster, about one spank per 2 seconds. She never stopped her rhythm of back and forth, and Miranda never stopped moaning. Eventually she began kicking her legs, and Chapman yelled. "Keep still!" "It hurts!" Miranda cried. "It's supposed to. Now keep your legs still, or I won't just slap your bottom, I'll slap these thunder thighs of yours too," she said, slapping the top of Miranda's thighs. "Ow! Ow!" "Good, now keep still." She resumed her spanking on Miranda's butt, and Miranda held on tight and groaned and whined. After a few more minutes, she stopped. Miranda felt a sigh of relief. Chapman began rubbing Miranda's bottom which was no longer white and now pink. "You're getting color back here..." she commented. "Are we done?" Miranda asked hopefully. "Done? Heavens, no. We've only just began. Stand up." Miranda moaned and stood up, and Chapman stood up too. "Now, take off your skirt and take off your panties." "What?" "You heard me. Do as you're told. Don't make me repeat myself." Miranda slowly unbuttoned her skirt from the back and pulled it down, letting it fall to her ankles. Covering her groin with her left hand, she kicked her skirt off from around her legs, being careful to leave her panties on around her ankles, and picked it up with her right hand. "Now, hand me that," came the next instruction. Miranda handed her skirt and to the nun, who folded it and placed it on the desk. She turned to Miranda who kept her groin covered. “Ahem? Panties?” “Why can’t I leave them on? My ass is already out for you to hit it.” “I’ll say it one more time before I end this and your investigation. You’re in my school. My rules. Now take your panties off and give them to me.” “Ugh…” Miranda kicked off her panties and handed them bunched out to Chapman, who took them and dropped them into the garbage next to the desk. "Hey! Those are mine!" Miranda protested. "They're non regulation so they don't belong here. If I catch you wearing another pair of non regulation panties after today, they'll be thrown away as well, and you'll be spanked again." "But they're MY underwear." "In MY school. Now, not another word about them. And put your hands on top of your head, Miranda.” “Why?” “You’re already in detention getting punished, and every time you protest you make your situation worse, so it’d serve you well to not push your luck any further. Hands on top of your head.” Miranda, fighting back all her natural instinct, put her hands atop her head as she was instructed, and turned around to face the desk. “I didn’t tell you to turn around. Turn back and face me.” Miranda turned back as instructed, facing Chapman with her entire dignity exposed. “Now before we begin the next part of your spanking, I need to grab a thing or two.” The nun headed to the back of the classroom where there was a closed closet and opened it and began looking at the contents inside. “I’ve kept these here for a while, I thought I’d never use them again…let’s start with this.” The nun pulled out a lexan paddle from the closet - silver, round, 2 feet long with holes in it. She inspected it and headed back to the front of the room. Miranda went wide eyed at the weapon in the nun’s hands. “A paddle? You can’t be serious,” Miranda protested. “Very. You don’t think I can give you the punishment you truly deserve with just my hand, do you?” “With, all due respect, Sister, I’m a law enforcement agent trying to fight drug related crimes. Why am *I* being punished so severely?” “You lied your way into this school under false pretenses and broke multiple rules along the way. I’m not debating this any further with you. You wanted to be a student so bad, and now you’re going to be punished like one. So either you stop your whining and take your punishment, or I end your investigation right here and you can go back to your job and let them deal with you. It’s your choice. What’s it going to be, Miss Pine?” Miranda rolled her eyes. “I’ll take the punishment.” “Very well. And if you fight me one more time, I have many more implements from the old days where this paddle came from and I can make this a long detention for you. Now stand in front of my desk and face the chalkboard.” Miranda walked to the front of Chapman’s desk and centered herself and faced the chalkboard. “Take your hands off your head and bend all the way over my desk.” Miranda did as she was told. Once she was bent all the way over, Chapman instructed “Stand up on your tip toes and stick your bottom out. I want you to feel these.” Miranda moaned as she propped herself up a bit, sticking her butt out as instructed. Chapman stood next to her, lightly patting the paddle against her already pink butt. “So I’m going to give you 25 with this paddle.” “25?!” “25 plus one now for arguing.” “Sister..” “27. Keep fussing and I can keep adding more. Is that what you want?” “No Sister.” “Good. Now brace yourself.” Chapman centered the paddle halfway down Miranda’s bubble butt, pulled back and SMACK!ed it. “Ouch!!” Miranda cried. “1 down, 26 to go.” Chapman did it again. Pat, pat, swing, SMACK! “OW!” This went on at a slow continuous pace as Chapman doled out the hits. Miranda stayed firmly over the desk, moaning and yelling from the pain. She was starting to glow red a little around the bottom half of her butt cheeks. After the 14th smack, Chapman lowered her arm and stretched it. “It’s been so long since I gave a punishment. I’m starting to get worn out a bit…” “Thank goodness…” Miranda muttered. Knock knock! There was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Chapman called out. “It’s Kacey, Sister,” came a young woman’s voice. Chapman put the paddle down on the desk next to Miranda. “Stay still, don’t move,” she warned as she headed for the door, unlocking it and opening it. Kacey, a 21 year old black haired woman in a blouse and skirt, walked in carrying papers. “I wanted to give you these registration forms, an- oh, hello,” she stopped having noticed Miranda, who immediately jumped up and covered herself. “Hey! Back into your position, Miss Pine!” Chapman demanded as she closed the door. “I don’t want her to see me like this,” Miranda cried. “She’s a teachers assistant, she has every right as much as I do. Back into position or I will make it worse.” Miranda swallowed a big gulp of fear before returning to her position bent over with her red butt out. “Now Kacey, you were saying?” “Uh yes. I have registration forms. Where can I put them?” “You can put them on a student desk for now. Sorry, I’m giving a punishment out right now.” Kacey placed the papers on a student desk and turned her attention to Miranda’s ass. “I see. I thought corporal punishment wasn’t allowed here?” “Not on minors, no. But THIS student is 27. Well within the rights to be punished with a spanking.” “27? How?” Miranda went wide eyed at the prospect of her cover being blown even further. “Oh. She’s a special transfer student. A special case here that I’m not to speak of any more. But she’s unfamiliar with our way of things here so I’m teaching her.” “Right. May I ask what rules this young lady has broken to end herself in this position?” “Lying to school authorities, lying to me, inappropriate underpants.” “Not a good start. But I see you’ve done good work on her behind here…” Kacey put the back of her hand against the red of Miranda’s sore butt. “I can feel the warmth.” “Yes, but she’s only about halfway through this paddling and I’m starting to get tired. I’m no spring chicken and haven’t given a proper punishment in ages. Would you mind taking over for me?” Miranda went wide eyed but fought to urge to protest under threat of extra punishment. “Take over?” “Yes. She needs 13 more smacks with that paddle. Unless you have somewhere to be.” “No no I’m free right now, I’d be glad to help. Too many girls running around recklessly, it’s time someone learned the law of the land here.” “Excellent. Go on.” Kacey picked up the paddle and gave it a swing down in the air to get a feel for it before turning it to Miranda’s butt. “Okay. Stay still and stick your butt out.” Kacey pulled back and THWACK! Harder than Chapman! “OW!” Miranda cried, gripping the desk tight. “Good. Keep it going,” the nun commended. Kacey placed the paddle back in the center of Miranda’s bottom. THWACK! again! Miranda let out a scream, tears starting to well in her eyes. Over the next few minutes, Kacey gave Miranda her final 12 smacks, each one even with ferocity and each one even across Miranda’s butt cheeks. Her whole butt from 3/4 of the way down each cheek was red and hot. She was still crying when the 27th stroke hit and let out a final sob after the final hit. “All done, Sister,” Kacey said, placing the paddle back down on the desk. Chapman walked over and felt Miranda’s sore, red butt. “How’d I do?” “Very good job. You have a very strong arm.” “Thanks. Do you want me to give her any more? I don’t have anywhere to be.” “No, I can take it from here. But you are more than welcome to stay and watch the rest of her punishment.” “I’d be honored, Sister.” “Of course. That reminds me, Miranda stand up and turn around and face Kacey please.” Miranda got herself up off the desk and turned and faced her second spanker, covering her groin with her hands. “Hands on your head,” came the inevitable dreaded command. Miranda swallowed her pride and placed her hands on her head as instructed. “Thank Kacey for giving you part of your punishment.” “Thank you for giving me part of my punishment, Kacey,” Miranda muttered. “You’re very welcome,” Kacey replied cheerfully. Chapman again returned to the closet in the back and pulled out a large, brown leather belt. She smacked it against the palm of her hand, nodded, and returned to the front of the classroom. “Miranda, stand next to my desk, face the chalkboard, and bend over and grab your ankles. Stick your bottom out.” Miranda lowered her hands and went between Chapman’s desk and the door and bent over into position, sticking her burning butt out towards the classroom and her two spankers. Kacey stood to the side observing as Chapman stood next to Miranda, pressing the belt up against her butt. “You’re going to get 20 with the belt and MAYBE we’ll be done. But if you fuss or give me a hard time, you’ll get 20 from each of us, and you’ll get another implement. Do you understand?” “Yes, Sister.” “Alright. Here we go. Brace yourself dear. This will be the worst yet.” Chapman swung back and CRACK!ed the belt against Miranda’s ass. “OW!” Miranda cried, falling forward a bit. “Back into position,” Chapman demanded, smacking the belt against her butt. Miranda quickly resumed the position and held on tight. CRACK! “OW!” CRACK! “AH!” CRACK! “OUCH!” filled the room over the next moments as Sister Chapman dealt the final section of Miranda’s punishment. Miranda was openly crying as the pain was too much to bear but managing to stay in position as her ass cheeks got redder and hotter. Chapman continued on mercilessly belting the girl as Kacey stood, nodding with approval. After the 15th smack, Chapman stopped. “These next 5 will be your last. They will also be your hardest and fastest. Stay in position for all 5. If you don’t, I will start over and they will ALL be this hard. Do you understand?” “Yes Sister!” Miranda sobbed. “Right. Here we go.” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Miranda screamed and cried but didn’t budge as the final blows came. Once it was done, Chapman placed the belt on the desk next to the paddle. Miranda kept crying, her tears running down her face falling on the floor. Her ass was on fire. Chapman inspected the damage - all red all over with a little bit of swelling. She patted Miranda’s butt. “There we go. Your punishment is over.” “Sister, not to be out of line,” Kacey began, “but lying to school officials, do you think just the paddle and belt are enough? Do you think a few strokes of the cane for good measure would be appropriate?” “It’s a thought, but no. Perhaps if Miranda ends up in detention again. But for now, she’s done. Miranda, stand up and face me.” Miranda slowly stood up, placing her hands on her head before turning around. “Hands on her head, good,” Kacey commented. Miranda scowled, wanting her to shut up. “Thank me for your punishment,” the nun said. “Thank you Sister Chapman for punishing me,” Miranda moaned through sobs. “You’re welcome dear. Now you may sit down for the rest of detention.” “Sit down for the rest?” “Yes? Detention is 2 hours. We’ve been here about an hour. You are to sit on your bare bottom for the next hour until detention is over. Then you may redress. Unless you want to be spanked for the next hour?” “NO! No no no!” “Good. Take a seat. Kacey, you’re free to go.” “Thank you Sister. Be good, Miranda” Kacey wished cheerfully before leaving. Miranda very gingerly sat down, yelping when she did - her sit spots and cheeks were on fire and the hard wooden chair wasn’t helping any. Chapman sat down at her desk and reviewed her forms that Kacey brought her. After an hour of awkward silence minus the occasional sob from Miranda as she calmed down, detention ended. “Alright Miranda, stand up and bend over my desk,” Chapman instructed as she stood. Miranda’s heart dropped. “Another spanking?” she moaned as she stood. “No, I want to see how your bottom has healed.” Miranda went forward and bent over the desk, sticking her butt out for inspection. Chapman inspected it - still all red and a little swollen. She rubbed it for her. “A perfectly punished bottom. You may not sit comfortably for the next few days. But I hope you know why I punished you.” “Yes Sister…” “Good. Now you may place your skirt back on and leave detention.” “Can I have my underwear back?” “Those inappropriate things? No. You’re to get appropriate panties from the school wardrobe immediately. Now go, and don’t think I won’t take you back in here and punish you again if I have to.” Miranda stood up and put her skirt back on, collected her things and left. She entered the hall rubbing her ass through her skirt, sore and angry from her ordeal. She looked at her phone and saw a missed call from the chief. She quickly called back. “Pine?! Good news!” the chief said. “What’s that?” Miranda asked, doubting it. “We got our connection!” “What?” “We got our connection! It wasn’t a girl named Alison Glimley. It was a girl named Addison Grimby. She’s 42 and works at Walmart. It was a whole communication blunder but we busted her. It’s all over now. You can get out of that silly school now.” Miranda saw red - as red as her butt. She was in the wrong place looking for the wrong person. “GRRRR FUCKKKK!” she screamed, throwing her phone - it hit a locker and bounced off, past Miranda, hitting something with a THUD! followed by a familiar voice yelling “Ouch!” Miranda had a heart attack as she slowly turned and saw a furious Sister Chapman standing there. “Out of detention for 5 minutes and on your phone during school hours, cursing and throwing things? I see my first spanking didn’t teach you throughly enough…” she grabbed Miranda by the ear and began dragging her back to detention. “No! NO!” Miranda cried, trying and struggling to escape. “Maybe a full 2 hours of getting spanked will teach you properly. We’ll start with 50 strokes of the cane and move on from there,” she said out loud as she walked Miranda into the room of torture again. Miranda begged and cried to no avail as the detention door slammed shut and locked her in the room with the angry nun. Miranda was never sure if there was a heaven, but she knew for sure that hellfire existed - and for the next 2 hours, she felt as close as one could get to the heat of the as the angry woman of Christ brought the burns of the fires of hell on to her bare ass.

I have a fascination with being caught self spanking and then being turned over the knee and spanked. Either with compassion in a 'let me help you' aspect or more of a harsher tone. Anyone have experience with this? Share your personal stories or fantasies? Still really new to this site so apologies if this is in the wrong place

I'm a 24 year old woman, with long light brown hair and warm brown eyes, who desperately wants a man to spank me. Tell me how you'd do it!

Kirstie Alistair rushed through her front door, eager to get up into her bedroom without being spotted by her mother, Julliet. As she strode past the living room her heart sank as she heard her mother close her book and call her towards her. Entering the main living space, she found her mother placing her glasses on the table, sitting cross-legged and visibly upset. "Before you say anything, mum" Kirstie said defiantly, "I'm only 45 minutes late. The bus was-" "I don't want to hear your excuses" her mother retorted, "please take a seat. We need to have a talk." Kirstie sighed, and took a seat on the sofa across from where her mother was sitting. "I'm afraid this little talk is going to be uncomfortable for you", she started. Kirstie rolled her eyes. "It's not about the lateness, or your attitude, or your school performance, frankly it's all the little things" she said, to her daughter's chagrin. "And it's gotten to the point where I can't ignore it any more. You're not going to like what you are about to hear, but I've decided that starting from now, I'm going to introduce smacking as a deterrent, and form of punishment for you." Julliet waited to see Kirstie's response. No words were forthcoming, but Kirstie looked flushed and utterly shocked at those words. "It's high time that you started to show a little respect, and I intend to enact this new regime starting right now." Julliet placed a hairbrush on the table. Kirstie's mouth was agape. "I know it's very late in your life to start smacking you, but I've ran out of options. I'm going to smack you tonight, and see what impact this new arrangement has on your behaviour. If you are smart, it will be the first and last time I ever have to do it. If not..." Julliet looked down, and then back at her daughter. Kirstie stammered as her heart raced. "You... you can't be serious, mum" she whispered. She couldn't even bear to say the words. "Oh, I am serious" Julliet shot back. "However", her mother conceded, "since this is your first time, I'm going to explain the process very carefully. I don't want to put you under any undue distress" she added, cautious not to overwhelm her daughter in this delicate moment. "I would like you to come over here and stand next to me" she said, signaling the spot to stand. Kirstie was frozen. She wasn't sure whether to run away, or whether she should submit herself to this humiliation. Julliet glared at her. For the first time in a long time, Kirstie decided that it would be easier for her to be compliant than to rebel. Kirstie shuffled over towards her mother, still unsure. "That's better" Julliet said softly, as Kirstie stood directly next to her. "Now, I'm going to take your trousers down to your ankles" Julliet said assertively. Kirstie stood still like a statue as her trousers were unceremoniously lowered, and she could feel the coldness of the air running up her legs. As she stood there in her navy t-shirt and white cotton knickers, Kirstie wanted the world to swallow her up. Would she really stand there, shocked and humiliated, and simply let this happen? As the thought came into her head, her mother was already gently marshalling her daughter across her lap. "I need you to lie over my lap now" she said, as her daughter was already being draped over her knees. "That's good" she reassured her, with her daughter now firmly in position, with her bottom up in the air and arms dangling in front of her. Kirstie only now started to protest. "This isn't fair", she whined softly. "You can't spank me at this age, I'm too old." Julliet swallowed. She started to explain the process in more details. "You're not too old to get a firm and long-overdue spanking, my dear child" she scolded. "You need to learn who is charge here, and there is no more quicker or more appropriate way than this" she continued. "I know that you are feeling ashamed right now, and this spanking is going to hurt you, but it's for your own good" her mother added, as the weight of the situation finally became apparent to Kirstie. Kirstie was quiet, before pleading, "please don't smack me, mummy, I promise I'll be good." Julliet took that as her signal to begin. "Don't be alarmed", Julliet said, "I'm going to take down your underwear. I am going to be smacking you on the bare bottom today and in future, for your own safety." Kirstie gasped as she felt her panties being pulled down. She suddenly felt truly exposed, vulnerable and embarrassed. "Please don't do it on the bare" she protested, to no avail. Julliet slowly picked up the hairbrush. "I'm going to be using this hairbrush to administer the spanking." Kirstie was begging inside for this to finish as quickly as possible, and did not appreciate the step-by-step breakdown of what was happening, but knew to keep quiet. "Once your bottom has been soundly smacked, I will finish with using my hand. This is to make sure that you hear my words clearly. You will not be allowed off of my lap until I say the punishment is over, do you understand?" Kirstie nodded. She was choking up too much to respond. "That's good. Then your punishment will start." Julliet lifted the hairbrush high up into the air, and brought it down with a thunderous clap. "Owwwwwwwwwwieeeee" Kirstie moaned, as her head shot up and she clasped her hands. Julliet felt no sympathy for her. Instead, she brought the hairbrush down again on the other cheek. Kirstie yelled out loud. "IT HURTS! she screamed. Her mother pushed her hand on her back firmly. There was going to be no let up. Another hard smack came down. "Oooooooooouccchhhhhhhh" Kirstie cried. Julliet quickly landed the next hard smack. Kirstie yelled again. She had forgotten, or didn't care, if anyone else would hear her. "PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, as another firm smack of the hairbrush reddened her backside. "I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD" she started begging, as the smacks rained down on her. Julliet had a determination in her that would not be stopped. She finally had her errant daughter showing remorse for her behaviour. Julliet continued with more hard smacks to her daughter's sorry behind. "Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" Kirstie cried, the first tears starting to form. She started to kick her legs, but her trousers had bound them together. "We're not over yet!" Julliet shouted above the yells and smacks, as Kirstie tried to move her hands to cover her bottom. Instead Julliet simply smacked the palm of her hand, and they were quickly removed. "WAAUGH" Kirstie cried, utterly defeated. Her mothers' relentless smacks continued apace. Kirstie started sobbing and crying her eyes out as each smack landed more painfully than the last. At that point, Julliet's arm stopped mid-swing, and she observed as her embattled daughter lay limp over her lap, crying to the heavens, her crimson-red bottom a testament to the ordeal she had to endure. She gently placed the hairbrush down and let her daughter wail and cry. When Kirstie's crying finally started to subside, Julliet started to admonish her. "You've been such a naughty, naughty girl" she chided, accompanied with smacks of her open palm. "You have richly needed this" she added, punching each key word with another slap. "From now on, if you choose not to behave or observe the simple rules I set, you're going to find yourself with a VERY sore bottom" she added, continuing to smack her. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?" she added, stopping the slaps. Kirstie bawled. Julliet resumed smacking her. "YES! YES" Kirstie yelled, tears flowing down her face. "Good", Julliet concluded. "You may stand up whenever you are ready" she said softly, pulling her underwear back up. Kirstie pushed herself off immediately. Unfortunately for her, Julliet was not finished. She grabbed her daughter's arm fiercely. "Now, I am going to take you to the corner of this room, and you are going to stand there for ten minutes to reflect on why I had to smack you tonight" her mother said firmly, leading her daughter with her trousers still down. "Don't even think about getting dressed yet" she said strictly. "If you try to leave, you'll be back across my lap in the blink of an eye and then back into the corner for half an hour, do you understand?" Kirstie sniffled. "Yes, mummy" she whispered, holding back tears. "Ten minutes" Julliet replied, pointing to her watch. Those ten minutes seemed to last an eternity. All Kirstie could think about was the radiant heat emanating from her backside, and the glowing pain that she was sure could be seen through her underwear. She started to think about what had just recently transpired. How she must have looked, bent over her mother's lap, screaming and crying like a child. She imagined the embarrassment if any of her neighbors had heard the commotion. She was now 'one of them' she thought. A smacked child. She wondered what this meant for the future. Would her mum ever smack her if guests were around? Her face went beetroot read at the thought. What would her friends at school think if they found out? Yet, strangely, the warmth coming from her bottom made her feel oddly taken care of. Like a huge relief had just washed over her, and she didn't need to pretend to be anything other than her mother's only child. Getting smacked was a new reality that also brought with it a new standing. Perhaps she needed boundaries and consequences to put the whole maddening, troubling world into perspective. In a perverse way, she was glad that she had been smacked after all her rebellion. Maybe it was just the thing she needed all along to clear her mind. She started to remember the scolding her mother had gave her while using her hand to apply the final touches to her punishment. She thought about all the times leading up to today where she had deliberately disobeyed her. Each smack felt like retribution for something she had done in the past. It felt good to know that, finally, the slate was clean. It felt natural to apologize in those moments, she thought. There was something about the experience of being face-down and on the receiving end of a spanking where there was nothing to hold back her emotions. In a confusing way, she felt like she needed that avenue to cry it out. She was genuinely sorry for all the stress she had caused. Perhaps all the frustration of being grounded could be avoided by just submitting to a spanking. She had at last understood her relationship with her mother. Standing in that corner, her pride eliminated with a clearly punished bottom on prominent display, Kirstie was finally at peace with herself. Once the ten minutes were up, her mother came back into the room and sweetly told her it was all over, and she could pull her trousers up and go to her room if she wanted. To her surprise, Kirstie gave her a big hug. Julliet held onto her daughter as tight as she could. "I think everything is going to be okay", Kirstie told her. Julliet smiled, and watched her daughter traipse up to her room. As door closed, Julliet poured herself a glass of wine, and breathed a sigh of relief. She confided in her closest friend what had happened over the phone. "Sometimes", her friend summarized, "all they need is a little time over the knee to understand the limits of acceptability." "Isn't that right", Julliet laughed. "You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that won't be the last time your Kirstie finds herself in that position" her friend chuckled. Julliet smiled, thinking about her little lamb standing obediently in the corner of the room after a long session over her lap. "I think you're probably right..." Julliet replied, taking another sip of her glass. ------ A month later, Kirstie came home with her report card. She watched with trepidation as her mother unsealed the envelope and read the report, sitting at the kitchen table. Julliet read and re-read the report, before emitting a sigh. "I was hoping for better, to be honest" she said calmly. Kirstie looked away. Julliet put the report back into the envelope. "So what are we going to do about this" she questioned, looking directly at her daughter. "Should I ground you for two weeks?" Kirstie froze. The words couldn't come to her. Julliet continued to wait for an answer. Kirstie's heart started to race. "I think" she said, uncertain. Julliet waited. "I think I need to be spanked."

No doubt about it. I like your style, Bramblewine. An obviously clever girl who unexpectedly teaches us about a very kinky Roman festival and isn’t shy about sharing some juicy tidbits from her personal history, too. 👩🏻‍🏫

Just a word of caution, Bramblewine. Loud spanking noises and high pitched cries, etc. will be heard through the door by anyone passing by.🫢

Please listen to Bramblewine’s wise counsel!!!! Stay safe and find an ER who is worthy of your trust. Do not engage in consensual/non-consent with sadists. Trust your internal barometer, even if the “signal” is very hard to hear (or believe, until it’s too late).

That sounds like abuse, not consensual discipline. If you can't raise concerns or make suggestions about your relationship without getting punished, your ability to consent is being compromised. Furthermore, the way you describe your reaction to the bull clips says loud and clear that this was outside your limits. But he wouldn't let you assert your boundaries. When you tried, he refused to respect that. A disciplinarian who doesn't respect your limits and doesn't let you suggest changes to your relationship is an abuser.

I recently stayed at a Hampton Inn during a road trip and was amazed how quiet it was. When I was in the room, I couldn't hear anything outside of it, except for faintly hearing another room's shower running, once, when I was in the bathroom. Which would mean no one outside the room would hear noise coming from inside it. The road trip was not for spanking purposes, but if it were, I could see staying at a Hampton, for sure.

Wow! This sounds great! I would love to have a mentor that provides remote support/discipline. Bull clips sound scary!

Fascinating topic, Bramblewine. Your range of interests and knowledge is impressive. By Googling, I found a lot written about Lupercalia and how it’s celebration evolved over time. Some scholars do think it is a precursor to Valentine’s Day, while others strongly reject this claim. What does appear clear is that it was at least in part a fertility festival during which woman who wanted to conceive would allow themselves to be whipped with these fresh, raw goat strips (usually dipped in blood and sometimes made from other animals including dog 😩). Romans typically flogged peoples’ backs, but spanking was common especially of children, so who knows what body parts were whipped. You’re right that over time this festival reportedly became more “refined” without the requisite nudity of earlier celebrations and with whipping (presumably not all that vigorously) limited to ladies’ hands. Bizarrely, folks believed that this would enable these ladies to conceive. Thank goodness modern ob-gyn approaches have abandoned this very strange idea. Re: your question as to how that felt, I couldn’t find a thing and I’m not the least bit tempted to find out via experimentation. Romans were very clever and had exceptionally sharp cutting tools, so it’s likely they could cut fresh strips as thin as they thought ideal for the purpose. Whether they removed the fur is hard to say, too. How much it hurt probably depended on how hard these strips were swung. As you likely know, even rope of a rather wide range of thicknesses that is very soft to the touch can pack quite a wallop when used by an experienced ER. Generally speaking, thinner strips (especially if cut so that they have a sharp end) produce a stingy result, while thicker strips are more thuddy. Romans weren’t impressed enough by these festival whips to include them in their extensive tool kit for “routine” corporal punishment. A few ERs these days specialize in whipping punishments, but that’s not something I find appealing. I can wield a whip with a fair bit of skill, but prefer to use a belt or a strap when the occasion calls for it.

I think communication is important. If spanking is a role-play type of interaction, then establishing the roles, the situation, and providing whatever trigger words and phrases enhance the experience make the scene. If it's actual punishment, then it's beneficial to articulate the connection between failure and spanking to make the reasoning as clear as possible. There are different degrees of "scolding," and what is good for one person may not be good for another. I prefer calm and well-considered rather than an angry rebuke in the heat of the moment. Scolding as an expression of disappointment and concern shows warmth and caring, which is a major part of my attraction to discipline.

This is pretty much what maintenance spankings are for. You say the spanking works to keep you on track, but only temporarily. If you were getting spanked once a week or so for example, whether you have violated a rule or not, it might have the same effect but you wouldn't have to deliberately break a rule just to get spanked (which kind of defeats the purpose of having a rule, right?). Maintenance spankings can be used as a reminder of your commitments (or who is in charge if you enjoy that dynamic) and they can be effective without necessarily rising to the level of a disciplinary spanking. Then, if you do break a rule, he can turn it up to the next level. I have a philosophy about discipline spankings and I have posted about it before. Disciplinary spankings are meant to modify behavior. In order to modify behavior, they have to be feared. In order to be feared, they have to hurt more than you want them to. So maybe there is a middle ground for you that will give you what you need. In answer to your question, "What is this need?" All I can say is that you are pretty much like most of the spankees I have ever known.

Welcome aboard!

Welcome! I’m glad you’ve joined us.

Bspankly made a very important point. Telling your ER what you’re fears, fantasies, hope, and dreams are will often get you exactly what you want (once you’ve carefully vetted them and have decided they’re trustworthy—intimate partners, especially wives and husbands excluded from vetting etc., of course😀). Honest, sometimes revealing (often embarrassing), complete disclosures in a safe, caring relationship do work. Of course, you sometimes need to do a little “coaching.” I think there is an important difference between “topping from the bottom” and giving constructive feedback that helps the ER improve your experience.

Fulfilling your fantasy while fulfilling someone else's that how it should be in a role play. And what ever role you decide to play I'm sure you will play it very well. If it's just because you want it that's when role play is the best. I bet you can come up with all kinds of reasons to get your behind nice and red hot

Never once asked to be spanked as a child. Are you kidding?! And never fessed up to anything that would have resulted in a spanking. Despite my secret obsession and the fantasies that accompanied it, real spankings were dreaded and to be avoided at all cost.

I am neither timid nor shy-- and there are few things I relish more than taking a cocky guy over my knee. I've read these stories of yours, but I'd like to see, in person, just how brave you feel... and how long that lasts.

Gotta admit that I’m triggered by almost every word describing lickin’, spanking, paddling, strapping, or whatever. I’m also triggered by female ERs who describe what they’re going to use and do with it. For example,”I’m going to spank your naughty bottom with this belt until you can’t sit down and, then, you’re going to sit awhile on the chair I’ve just bent bent you over. If I don’t think you’ve learn your lesson, you’ll soon find out how much my bath brush hurts after after I’ve blistered your butt with my belt.” Like you, F/m_spanking_only, I have never fantasized about my mom (too close to home & a bit weird in my book). However, strong maternal figures are a huge turn on for me. Go figure. . .