Do you have a kink? The great powers who define such things say the desire to be spanked lies underneath the sexual kink umbrella. Honestly, I don't even like to use the word 'kink'. It is defined as a sexual interest that falls outside the mainstream appetite. In other words, it is an abnormal interest. Trust me, if you are a shy person, you want to fit in so you don't draw attention to yourself. Being labeled 'abnormal' is painful. So you can imagine I didn't want anyone to know about my kink when I was younger. Only as I aged and met other like-minded people, did I become comfortable with discussing my feelings surrounding spanking. Still, I am met with some people who question it ... don't understand it. Why would someone get off on being put in a vulnerable, embarrassing position where pain is administered? I can’t explain it, but I do know my spanking interest started way before Christian Grey made it a thing in the Fifty Shades of Grey movies.
I was a junior in high school and the first thing I noticed when I walked into Mr. Steven’s math class was the ominous-looking paddle hanging on the wall. It was quite large and riddled with holes. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it as my body tensed. Corporal punishment was alive and well in my high school and even the roughest of students cowered if a teacher threatened ‘licks’, as paddling was often called, in the office. However, this was the first time I saw a paddle in a classroom.
Mr. Stevens reminded me of Christopher Reeve, the popular Superman actor. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. You can imagine the reaction he garnered from high school girls, clamoring for his attention. But, he was the constant professional, seemingly oblivious to his love-struck pupils. His voice was deep and commanding, yet possessed a gentle, smoothness to his tone. I immediately felt attracted to him, despite his age. Not really into the boys in my grade, I usually fantasized about older men.
After he covered his class syllabus, he walked over and retrieved the paddle from the wall, swooshing it in the air as he walked. Now, I saw the purpose of the holes. A whooshing noise sounded as he swung the paddle. The effect on my body was immediate - heart racing, tummy tingling, bottom clenching.
“This is the board of education,” he said smiling. I will remove it from the wall on two occasions. First, if you disrupt my teaching, you, me, and this paddle will take a little field trip to the office. Second, if your birthday falls on the day of my class, you will receive a birthday spanking.
The class had a collective gasp, mixed with some laughter from the boys. My body trembled as a myriad of emotions overtook me – fear, embarrassment, anxiety, anticipation, and excitement. I was confused. I dreaded spankings as a child and didn't understand the fluttering in my tummy and lower regions at the thought of Mr. Stevens paddling me.
“Today is Carla’s birthday, so she gets to break in the board of education for this school year.”
We all turned to look at Carla’s stunned face. Again, boys beside her laughed, razzing her a little. Mr. Stevens walked to the center of the class where she sat and asked her to stand up and bend over her desk. She looked terrified and he leaned down and whispered something in her ear which softened her face.
“Class, you will count out seventeen spanks of my paddle with one to grow on.”
Carla slipped out of her chair and bent over her desk, grabbing the sides with her hands. Her bottom was facing me. Mr. Stevens moved to the side and I didn’t breathe as he took his first backswing and landed the paddle squarely against her bottom.
“One,” said the class.
He struck her bottom again.
“Two.”
And again and again and again.
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Five.”
By the count of ten, she was shifting a little in her spot, but she didn’t make a peep. The students around her leaned back in their seats to get a better look.
It wasn’t until he gave her the “one to grow on” that I heard her gasp. Everyone immediately starting throwing out questions, “Did it hurt?”, “How bad was it?”, but she just said it wasn’t bad and sat back down with a blushing face. I think her spanking affected me more than her. Immediately, I envied the intimacy I just witnessed between Carla and Mr. Stevens and I craved it for myself. I would replay the scene over and over in my mind once I found myself alone.
The birthday spankings end up being a fun thing for most of the class. Everyone loved to count the spanks and see the birthday boy or girl squirm and gasp. I couldn’t count along. My body shook with each swat and I held my breath to keep from crying out. My bottom clenched with each spank as if the paddle had struck me as well. Occasionally, I saw Mr. Stevens glancing at me with a curious look on his face. Did he know? I tried to hide my reactions with little success, definitely not wanting to draw attention to myself. But, I felt my shoulders draw in and know I sometimes jumped a little in my seat.
Some days the students' being spanked would be facing me and I captured every facial expression. For some, their eyes tightly closed with corners wrinkling with each swat of the paddle. Others' eyes widened from the impact on their bottoms. The paddle made a stunning sound as it made contact too. I suspected that is why teachers liked to use it. The sound alone instilled fear in its recipients. My mind traveled to thoughts of it striking a bare bottom. What would it sound like? Feel like?
Other days the students' bottoms were in my line of view. I watched the material of their skirts or pants flattening as the paddle made contact, knowing the skin beneath felt the contact. Some legs shifted back and forth. Some twitched. Others shook. Every student felts his paddle strike one of their most private areas and all eyes were on that private area. It wouldn't be the same if say he paddled our legs, would it?
I was usually first in class as Math was my favorite subject. One day when no one else had arrived yet, he walked up to my desk and kneeled down to eye-level with my seated body. He looked in my eyes and said, “You are my best student, Kimmi – always well-behaved, homework always completed, highest scores on tests. I need to know if anything in my class bothers you.”
“No, I am fine, Mr. Stevens,” I said, lying through my teeth.
“For instance, the birthday spankings don’t upset you?” he continued, looking a little concerned.
I couldn't help closing my eyes before I lied again, “No. It's fine.”
He continued studying my expression before he responded, “No matter what they say, I don’t hurt them with the paddle. Through their clothes, it is barely felt with my light swing. Maybe just the last one is felt. But, Bobby probably felt every swat because he doesn't do his homework and I wanted his paddling to sting a little.”
We both laughed then I said, "Okay. It's fine. I'm fine." He stayed a few moments longer as if waiting for me to say more, then sighed and walked back to his desk.
It seemed like every other week it was someone's birthday. The more paddlings I witnessed, the more I craved it. Not so much the boys excited me, but when he paddled the girls I always felt wet between my legs. We sat in orange plastic chairs and sometimes when I stood up, I saw a wet spot in my seat. I quickly wiped it away before anyone saw.
My nights were filled with fantasies about Mr. Stevens. I wouldn't understand this until later either, but he was usually chasing me. I was running from him, but not because I was afraid. It excited me to have him chase me. He always eventually caught me and spanked me. My head would swoon as if dizzy while my body screamed its need for something. Instinct took over and I discovered what my body needed. My hands would ease into my panties and rub the spot that felt so good until I came. Feelings of warmth and peace and happiness followed. The frequency of my dreams increased with my rapidly approaching seventeenth birthday.
On Monday, I walked up to his desk and stood quietly waiting for him to address me.
He looked up and said, “Hi Kimmi, you did very well on your test last Friday.” He smiled, flashing me my test score then continued, “Do you need something?”
I just stood there for a moment or two gathering my nerve before I revealed, “It was my birthday yesterday.”
He leaned back in his chair with a curious look on his face. “Is that so? Well, did you have a good birthday?”
“Yes,” was all I said. And I quickly turned and took my seat. I couldn’t look directly at him, but out of the corner of my eye noticed he continued to watch me with furrowed eyebrows.
I had trouble concentrating that day, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he would give me my spanking at the end of class. Even though technically the student's birthday was supposed to fall on the day of his class, I hoped he might make an exception for me. My eyes kept darting from the chalkboard to the paddle on the wall. How I hoped he would make an exception just this once. My anticipation grew with each passing tick of the clock. Wetness in my panties grew with each tick as well. With ten minutes left in class, I knew it was now or never. But, to my disappointment or relief, not sure which, he continued teaching without recognizing my birthday. Then, the bell rang sealing a frown on my face.
Tears welled a little in my eyes as I gathered my things, taking one last glance at the paddle on the wall, never to be felt by me.
“Kimmi, could you stay after class please,” he said.
My body stiffened. Was I in trouble? I didn’t do anything wrong that I knew of, but teachers only asked you to stay after class if you were in trouble. I sat in my chair and waited, watching each student one-by-one walk out the door until I was the only one left with Mr. Stevens. He walked over and closed the door behind the last student.
He returned to his desk, sitting on the corner, looking at me. I was anxiously wringing my hands in my lap when he said, “I want to treat all my students the same, Kimmi. So, I think you should endure the same paddling as the rest. But ... I know you are somewhat shyer than others and thought you might prefer to receive your birthday spanking in private. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” I squeaked, trying to comprehend his words.
I sat frozen in my seat as he walked over to the wall and retrieved the paddle. Oh my goodness!
“Why don’t you come bend over my desk,” he instructed.
Slowly walking towards him, I nervously bit my lip. I wore a plaid skirt and hoped the wet spot in my panties didn’t show when I bent over. A million thoughts raced around in my head. What will it feel like? How bad will it hurt? Can I take it?
“Bend over please, Kimmi. I need you to count since the class isn’t present to count for you. Ready?”
“Yes,” I responded with a quivering voice.
My hands took hold of each side of the desk as I braced myself for the unknown. My heart thumped loudly in anticipation.
Whoosh.
Thwack!
“Whooo,” I panted, followed by, “one.”
Thwack!
“Two.”
Thwack!
“Three.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Y-y-y-y-yes,” I stuttered. I felt the paddle through my clothes, but it didn't hurt too badly. Just stung a little. The more intense feeling was the fluttering in my head and stomach at this intimate thing he was doing. Handsome Mr. Stevens was paddling me. I was bent over his desk with my bottom sticking out. It was very intense for me.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
I continued to count, struggling at times to remember which number I was on, as my spanking continued. I felt flushed in my face and between my legs. He stopped spanking after ten swats and said, "Good girl." I later realized the importance those words would hold for me also.
Then, I reached back and flipped my skirt up over my bottom. I needed to feel his paddle on my naked skin. Craved it. Silence followed and I began to worry about his response, but then …”
Thwack!
“Eleven.”
Thwack!
“Twelve.”
Thwack!
“Thirteen.”
I wore thong underwear and the paddle stung my bare cheeks. But, I loved it. My excitement grew with each spank. Nothing could stop my wiggling and moaning for the last several spanks. Somehow I think he knew this might happen and I was so grateful we were alone.
“And, now one to grow on. I will push down on your lower back to hold you in place,” he said gently before I heard his final swing.
Whoosh.
Thwack!
“Ahhhh!” I couldn’t help but exclaim, with my bottom stinging. That last one was definitely harder than the rest. His hand soothingly rubbed my back as I stayed bent over his desk.
I couldn’t move for a few minutes, trying to gather myself. Panting. Trembling. Leaking. One of his hands lowered my skirt back over my bottom and he walked over to re-hang the paddle on the wall. I slowly stood, not sure where to look. He came to me and sat on the edge of the desk.
“Happy Birthday, Kimmi. You are a special student.”
I looked into his eyes, knowing he saw what lurked within in me, and seemed to understand. He turned to gather his papers on his desk and I did the same and we exited the classroom together. I would never forget Mr. Stevens or the first time I found a spanking arousing. It was the beginning of my lifelong craving to be spanked by my mate.
If you have a 'kink', embrace it. Don't let anyone tell you what's normal and don't be embarrassed. I guarantee you aren't alone.
