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I'm a spankee new to this site. I'm non-binary with female anatomy. I'm interested in finding a partner to roleplay with (preferably over discord or something). Any gender is welcome. I'm interested in discipline spankings and I'm open to the idea of an erotic plot as well.

GreyWolf's story #15. This one is reminiscences of young college freshmen about spanking experiences while growing up. Punctuality This story recounts one of my memories of discussing spanking experiences, both my own and or others. It was my first year of college, and I was hanging out with new friends late one night in the dorm lounge, and we were enjoying our freedom to set our own schedule. The conversation meandered quite a bit until it settled on how we were all punished by our parents at home — I think we got there when one of us noted the lack of discipline we were exhibiting staying up to all hours. After some nibbling around the edges of the subject, it was soon clear that spanking had been part of our upbringing. “Well,” asked Danni, “what was your worst?” Sue and I looked at each other and hesitated. “Well,” said Sue, “I definitely know the worst one I had.” We were all ears. “It was when I was 16, on a hot August weekend. My folks were headed out for the afternoon antiquing, and left me with strict instructions not to go anywhere or have anyone over. I objected, asking if I could just have my best friend Monica over. They replied ‘OK, just Monica, and only if her folks drop here off.’” Sue continued, “In any case, my folks came home earlier that we expected (no good finds, I guess) to find a full blown pool party in the back yard. Monica and I had invited just a few more friends, but a few of them brought boy friends, and from there thing spiraled out of control, I guess. After clothes had been gathered (thankfully by then missing swimwear had been recovered and quickly put in place) and everyone had been dispersed, with parents duly notified, my mother turned to me and said ‘You! Upstairs to your room now!’” “I was still in my bikini, and a bit damp, sitting on my bed, when she burst in holding her hairbrush. I’d been spanked mostly by hand growing up, and once or twice with a spoon, but never anything like that. She didn’t say anything but marched strait to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me over her lap as she sat down on the bed. My suit bottoms were immediately yanked down, and in a split second the first swat hit. They continued to rain down as rapidly and hard as she could, and she started lecturing me, but I didn’t hear a thing over the rushing sound in my ears. That thing really hurt! I was bawling like a 2 year old before she was done, and even though it probably lasted less than a minute, she landed dozens on my poor rear.” “The next morning we had a calmer talk about the risks and dangers, and some of the bad things that could have happened. I think I had bruises for a couple of days. After that I was grounded for awhile, I guess — don’t really remember. But I do remember that spanking, and vividly,” said Sue, finishing her tale. Looking at Danni and then me, she said “OK, who’s next?” Danni looked at me, and said with a slight grin “I can go. It’s simple, really. I’ve never been spanked. My parents don’t believe in it.” Sue and I looked at one another, and with that I understood a bit better some things about my new friend Danni. Live and learn — or not — I thought. Sooner or later everyone learns life's lessons, as I've come to realize. After a somewhat awkward silence, both of them looked at me. I knew from the start which was at least my most memorable, if not the worst, and decided I had to tell. Taking a deep breath, I launched in. “It was only last year, when I was seventeen. I’d been driving for a year then, and was feeling pretty comfortable in having the family’s second car at my disposal. Being the oldest, it was handy for my folks to send me on errands, and I was more than happy to oblige. I guess I was getting a little too comfortable with having the car. After a few episodes of my staying out longer than I’d planned, and even taking it briefly without asking, things finally came to a head one weekend. I’d gotten permission to take the car in the morning to do a few errands and then have burgers with a friend. As I ran out the door my mother said ‘Be sure to be back by 1:00 — I have a club event in the afternoon.’ I said ‘of course, bye, love ya’ over my shoulder as I ran out the door.” “Sally and I had just started lunch when couple of friends from school joined us, and we had a grand time recounting the past year. We were just starting our senior year, and quite full of ourselves. After that, I completely forgot about my commitment to be back by 1:00, and several of us decided to do some serious back-to-school shopping at the mall. It was only as I got into the car to head home that I remembered about Mom and her event. It was going on 4:00.” “Sure enough when I entered the front hallway, there she was, hands on hips and with a look that could kill. All she said was ‘This has gone far enough — I’m going to let your father handle it.’ My father was at work that day, as he still put in weekend shifts sometimes. I had a sense that this was not going to work out well. When he got home my mother took him into his office and they talked for awhile. Dinner was tense, but then there was dishes and homework, and then off to bed, for which I was more than willing. Could it have blown over? Things seemed normal the next day over breakfast, but after cleaning up he looked at me and said simply ‘you and I need to chat.’ With that, he turned and headed toward his office, with me glumly following.” “His office, by the way, is really more of a den, though it did have a big old desk which he uses sometimes to do paperwork from the plant. He sat down behind it and I sat in adjacent chair. After a quick recount of the prior days events as I’ve told you, he pushed his chair back and said, ‘you need to learn to honor your commitments, and be be where you say you will when you say you will.’ Then as he reached down to a lower drawer I found a chill running up my neck. I knew that’s where he kept the paddle. I’d only felt it once, when I was 13, and that was once more than I ever wanted.” “Indeed it was the paddle, and it made a bit of a clunk as he set it on the desk between us. ‘Let’s see if you can learn to be punctual,’ he continued. ‘You were 3 hours late, causing your mother to completely miss her event. It’s 12:45 right now. From 1:00 to 4:00 we are going to work on your punctuality.’ With that he placed his digital desk clock with the large blue numerals in the center of his desk, turning it to face me. ‘I want you here and ready over the desk facing the clock between minute 0 and 1 of every 10 minutes. And by ready I mean bare. That’s six times each hour — 1:00, 1:10, 1:20 .. until 4:00. For every minute you are late there will be 2 additional swats. At all other times you are confined to your room.’ And with that I was dismissed.” “I went upstairs and sat on my bed for 5 minutes, lost in thought. Every 10 minutes for 3 hours came to 18 times! How much would he dole out even if I were on time? I suddenly realized I’d better put something comfortable on. At 5 minutes before 1:00 I headed downstairs, wearing a knit shirt and sweatpants. Keep it simple I thought. I knocked and entered, and he didn’t even look up. The paddle was right where he had left it. I went over to the desk, hesitated, then pulled down my sweats and bent over the it. A glimpse of the clock showed 2 minutes to go. When the clock turned over to 1:00 he got up and came around the desk, paddle in hand, and immediately said, ‘I said bare...’ which I took to mean ‘pull them down’, which I did, and quickly. His only other comment was ‘you’re on time! That’ a good start’. Then POP! POP! there were two solid smacks on my now bare rear, one on each side, promptly taking my breath away. As I grimaced and braced for more, he immediately returned to his chair, saying ‘OK back to your room.’ I pulled up my sweats from where they had fallen to the floor and headed back upstairs.” “You got it bare from your father?” interrupted Danni. “What kind of a paddle was it?” Looking quizzically at her, I said “Well later I had a closer look at it once when my folks were out. It was a bit unique, just a round plywood disk about the size of a DVD, sanded very smooth and painted black, with a rod about 6 inches long connecting it to a wooden handle. It could only reach one side at a time, but it did it very well.” I then continued “Any way, after the burn settled down a bit, I found myself thinking ‘this might not be so bad.’ Each time the routine was the same — just 2 firm smacks and then right back to my room. I'd changed into terry cloth shorts, skipping the underwear, thinking that would be more comfortable. I was doing OK, but the third time downstairs when I looked up at the clock it said 1:21, not 1:20. After pointing that out, he promptly gave me 4, saying ‘punctuality, remember punctuality.’ After that I used the alarm on my cell phone to give me at least one minute head start. And each time, he let me lay over his desk, fully exposed, until the exact correct time. Around 2:30 I was really beginning to feel the cumulative effects of that paddle. It burned when I walked, it burned when I sat. By 3:00 I was cringing when my cell buzzed. It seemed to buzz the moment I finally got a bit comfortable.” “When the 4:00 appointment finally arrived, he came around the desk but hesitated and asked me if I thought I could be punctual — and I was in no position to say anything but YES.” With that he gave me 6 whacks and said ‘OK, lesson learned, right? If something like this happens again we’ll be doing this every 5 minutes.’ I nodded vigorously through welling tears and headed upstairs to change, though was not sure what into. A look in the mirror did not reveal any great damage. Sure it was red, but not terribly so. I decided to take a shower, to see if that would cool the rawness, but the shower only ignited it further. It was a couple of days until I could no longer feel it, even though there was no visible evidence after a couple of hours. I guess my bottom has a long memory!” With the story ended, Danni and Sue just sat there, mouths open. Then coming to her senses, Sue said “Wow, that was as long as mine was short! I don’t know which was worse! I assume you never got the 5 minute version?” I nodded, but what I didn't say was that it wasn’t my most recent spanking experience. Danni looked at us both with doubt in her face, saying “I don’t believe you guys..” Sue and I looked at each other and I saw a slight knowing smile creep across her face. But that's another tale.

Hi. First off, I am in a relationship and so I am not looking for anything romantic or sexual. I am looking for a fatherly figure, and I do not feel comfortable finding one in romantic and/or sexual relationships. I feel like I could use some strict discipline to help keep me on track in life. I'm not really looking for someone to physically meet up with necessarily, just someone who will frequently check in with me. I am looking for a man who is strict, but also caring and gives a lot of positive reinforcement. my little age varies a lot; I kind of have a childish personality in general I guess.