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Everything posted by Spanks4f

  1. Does anyone have any experience using or experiencing a 12" glue gun stick as an otk implement?
  2. The defendant certainly seems to have a derriere well-suited for an extended punishment. I can see her bent over and bound wrist and ankle to a sawhorse type arrangement. The judge has sentenced her to 40 swats on the bare bottom with an oak paddle 4 inches wide by one-half inch thick. Of course, as with any legal use of force, this is videoed from beginning to end, with the supervising officer narrating the whole procedure.
  3. Ellen loved the feel of the antique ebony hairbrush in her hand. She remembered the day she saw it in the antique shop, when she couldn’t seem to stop running her hand over the handle, imagining how many hands had caressed the handle. She simply had to have it, and carried it proudly out of the shop. What she loved now, though, was the sound it made and the angry red spots it raised on the butt of the young man across her knees, and she thrilled to watch the formerly pale skin turning redder and redder with each smack… ****************************************************************************************************** She remembered how the day had begun, as she had stood outside her office door watching the new temporary workers filing past. Not much out of the ordinary there, until she had seen him. Joe was different from the rest in that he blushed and looked away quickly each time he caught her eye, usually looking down, as if he was almost afraid to make eye contact. She smiled, and her mind was already working, the way it did when she relaxed her guard and let it wander. ******************************************************************************************************** If someone had asked, she wouldn’t have been able to answer. She only knew that, somewhere in her young life, she had become fascinated with spanking boys. In the back of her closet, where no one would see, she had Barbie sitting–with Ken lying across her lap, his pants pulled down to his ankles, and Barbie’s right hand raised to smack him again. She looked at this every chance she had, imagining what it would be like to have a boy getting spanked over her knee, and feeling a funny little squirming in her tummy. It wasn’t easy to find pictures or old movies where it happened. It almost always was the other way around, and Ellen didn’t care about that. She would look up “spank,” “paddle,” “thrash,” smack,” and other words in the dictionary, and felt that same feeling again as she pictured herself giving a “naughty boy” a good, hard spanking. But when she went to college (the first of her family to do so), she discovered the internet, and a whole new world opened up to her. She found out that, contrary to what she had long thought, she wasn’t weird, and she wasn’t alone in feeling that she did; that, in fact, there were a lot of women who felt just as she did, and a surprising lot of men who wanted to be draped bare bottom over a strong woman’s lap for a well-deserved punishment and to do that woman’s bidding. Still, there didn’t seem to be as many opportunities as she had hoped, so she was still contenting herself with her dreams and fantasies, and it was one of those that caused her to bring the hairbrush to her office after she had been hired to manage the sports warehouse, hoping that maybe someday she’d get her chance to take it from the drawer… ***************************************************************************************************** Maybe it was because his mom had always put him across her knees on the rare occasions she spanked him, but Joe grew up with a desire to find a strong woman who would put him over her knee and give his bare bottom a long, hard spanking. When he could get away, when no one else would see, he would slip off to a hidden place, take down his pants and his briefs, and spank himself, with his hand or an implement, all the while saying, “Yes, ma’am! I’m sorry, ma’am! Please forgive me for being a bad boy!” It wasn’t the real thing, naturally, but it was all he had. He didn’t dare mention it to the girls he knew growing up–he just knew that they’d laugh, or think he was weird, and he couldn’t have stood that. So this desire was bottled up inside him for years… ******************************************************************************************************** He had entered the warehouse just as he had his other temporary assignments--sometimes it would be for a day, sometimes a few days, occasionally a week or more. Yet the assignments always came to an end, and he wished so much for a permanent position, one he could stay at and prove himself in. So he listened carefully and threw himself into the work, and everything seemed to be doing so well. He still caught himself glancing at Ellen, the first female supervisor he had worked for. She was so tall, so slender, with her long black hair falling below her shoulders, that he found himself fantasizing. She was an Amazon, a Viking queen, one whose word was law and who would not allow wrong to pass by... And then he realized it. He had packed up the order he was given for shipment. And he had done it completely wrong! He went to the line boss and explained. The boss swore, and picked up his phone and called Ellen. Joe listened, hoping he wouldn't be fired on the spot. He knew he could be. Then the boss turned to him and said, "Go to her office. She wants to see you." Slowly he turned and began walking to the other end of the building, where her office awaited. He knocked at the door. "Come in," Ellen said, and her voice told him she was not happy. He opened the door and stepped in. She looked up from her desk. "Joe, isn't it?" she asked, looking evenly at him. "Yes, ma'am," Joe whispered. "You know what a mess you've caused, don't you?" "Yes, ma'am," he said, "I know I've made a mess, and I"m sorry." "Sorry?" she growled. "It's going to take some time to fix it, and that means lost money! Should I spank you now, or later?" If Joe hadn't been there, Ellen would have clapped her hand to her mouth. What in the world had made her say that--out loud? Was it her long held-down wish that had made its way out of her mouth? What would happen now? "Ma'am," Joe said, "I guess you'd better do it later. I need to help clear the mess up right now, don't I?" Joe hoped she hadn't seen him blush when she said the words that he had thought about more times than he could count. He was aware that he was breathing faster than normal, and that his pulse had quickened as she said it. Trying to regain her composure, Ellen said quickly, "Of course! Come back and see me before you leave today." She labored to slow her own breathing and regain control. Joe headed out the door, found the line boss, and pitched in to clean up the mistake. It was hard for him to concentrate, but he made his best effort and somehow got through the day, even though his mind kept going back to Ellen. A few hours later, Ellen had cleared through the paperwork and gotten the day's work under control. She barely even noticed that it was a few minutes after 5 o'clock and that the employees, including the temps, were leaving. Two minutes later, she heard a quiet knocking at her door. "Come in," she said without looking up. The door opened. Joe stood in the doorway, his cap in his hands. "Ma'am," he said quietly, "it's later." It took Ellen a moment to remember; then she told Joe to come in. "Joe," she said quietly, "what do you mean, 'it's later'?" "Well, ma'am," he began, "you did ask whether you should spank me now, or later, and it's later." "Come in and close the door, Joe," Ellen said quietly. "Do you realize what you're saying?" She waited, trying not to hold her breath. "Ma'am," Joe began, "I know I made a mess and caused you a lot of trouble today. I know you could tell me to leave, but I'd like to stay here--and I need to make up for what I did. I figure that I need to be...punished." Ellen stood. "Very well," she began. "Then you agree to the punishment I'm going to give you?" "Yes, ma'am," he responded. "I've been thinking about it all day, and I need to get it over with." Ellen leaned over and opened her drawer, then placed the hairbrush on the desk. "Bring that chair, the one with no arms, and put it in the middle of the floor." Joe did as told, then stood ready. "Take those jeans off and put them on the couch," Ellen continued. Joe licked his lips, then unbuckled his belt and slipped the jeans down his legs, stepped out of them, and placed them on the couch. As he did so, Ellen looked at his legs. At least he doesn't have those skinny legs some men have, she thought to herself. She took the hairbrush in her hand, then sat on the chair and beckoned to Joe. Joe let out his breath and walked over to her. "You know what to do," Ellen told him. Joe lowered his body and slowly draped himself over her knees. She crossed one leg over another so his brief-clad bottom would be higher. Ellen began rubbing the back of the heavy ebony hairbrush over his round glutes, trying not to let him know how excited it was making her. "You know this is going to hurt, don't you, Joe?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered, "my mom used to spank me just like this. Just go ahead and do what you need to do." Ellen raised the brush high and brought it down hard on his left cheek. He sucked in his breath, but said nothing. She came down again on the right side, with the same results. She let out a breath, then began spanking in earnest, first one side, then the other. All the years of waiting for just such a chance were flowing through her, and she lit into that helpless bottom with a vengeance. Joe worked hard to stay in place, to allow her to punish him as he deserved, but as blow after blow fell, and as the same spots were hit over and over, he began wriggling on her lap. Ellen brought her right leg around and clamped his legs between her, and pulled his briefs down to his knees. She began again, and now she was seeing the visible results of each smack falling on his bare cheeks. Joe grabbed the rungs at the bottom of the chair and held on, gritting his teeth with each hard blow on his naked skin. Ellen stopped, held him down with both hands, and leaned close to Joe's ear. "You know what the problem you men have, Joe?" she asked. "You think you always have to be in control, to act as if it's not that bad. I'm spanking your bare butt pretty hard, and I"m in charge right now. You're not, so it's perfectly fine for you to cry. I give you permission to do so. Do you understand?" Joe nodded. Ellen resumed smacking his bottom hard, and Joe began to sob, quietly at first, then louder and louder with each smack. She could see the tears falling on the varnished floor, and knew that his resistance had been broken. She dropped the brush on the floor beside her and began rubbing the dark red places on his skin, knowing that he would probably have some bruises for a few days. "It's over, now, Joe," she began, "and you took that very well. You can go ahead and get up now." Joe slowly got to his feet, his face still streaked with tears, and continued sobbing for a few minutes. Gradually his breathing slowed and the tears stopped. Suddenly, Ellen smiled. "Joe," she said, "I've come to a decision. I'm going to hire you on permanently, with one condition." W-what's that?" Joe said, as his hands went back to rub his bottom. "You'll report to me right here, every Friday, just after quitting time," Ellen responded. "May I ask why, ma'am?" Joe responded. "Why, to evaluate your work for the week, and to make sure you stay on the right path!" Ellen beamed, as she gave his left buttock a very firm squeeze. "Yes, ma'am, and thank you," Joe said, as he involuntarily gasped at her squeeze.
  4. I think her parents are right.
  5. She seems to be enjoying herself...
  6. I am an active believer and a deacon in my church. As much as I want to spank, I cannot see doing it in any way that goes against my marriage vows. You can see the difficulty there.
  7. I would love to be a disciplinarian to women who know they need it, but my wife would never understand/accept it, and I would always fear that the spankee would develop inappropriate feelings for me. So I have no outlet for my desire, and I am a Christian also.
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