one small step

As I stood there with my hands on my head I glanced into his eyes and saw his excitement. There was something animalistic about the look he gave me and I wondered what I was doing here with this man I had only just met. Knowing he could, and planned to, physically overpower me; there was no going back now. Despite my fear I didn’t want to go back. Standing in that vulnerable position I felt completely exposed to him even though I was still fully clothed. He stripped away everything with that one look and there was only one thing I could do; give him my trust and submit myself to him. I would step forward and go over his knee for my very first spanking. My throat was dry. It was the beginning.

“Come here, young lady.”

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apple a day

I’ve had a little break from the blog recently because I ended up in hospital! All is well now though apart from getting used to the very noticeable scar up the middle of my stomach. I feel I’m going to be self conscious about it for a while which is going to hinder any new spanking adventures. Hoping it’ll change from ‘deformity’ to ‘cool battle scar’ in my mind soon.

In the meantime, as I recover with my pjs and hot chocolate, I can still get on and get all my past adventures down. I’ve only just begun.

dangerous liaison

When I look back at my first meeting with a spanker I can only think ‘You idiot!’. The way I did it was really silly and I could kick myself for it now. I was cautious…but in all the wrong ways.

I’d been chatting to a man online for a long while who lived in the next town to my family home. He was never much one for cyber and persuaded me (gently) that I’d have to try the real thing. I don’t know what the tipping point was that made me decide to meet a stranger and get spanked by him. Maybe I’d gone as far as I could online, maybe I was bored and restless, or maybe it was knowing this man was only an hour away. Probably a combination of them all. Whatever it was a switch flicked and I was finally ready.

Online dating and things like Tinder mean that today meeting from online is an everyday thing. Back then, 8 or 9 years ago, it was still very unusual. You were a socially inept geek if you were on a dating site and I dread to think what you would be considered for being a spanko. That side of it is still unacceptable now!

Anyway, everyone knows the number one rule of meeting someone from online: meet them in a public place. Pretty much the one thing I didn’t do…

I was convinced I was doing something dangerous so I got the man’s full name, I got his address, I even got his car registration number. (While vaguely on the subject, I don’t intend on giving out anyone’s real name in this blog. Let’s call this one Mr First). I knew if I went missing because I’d been whisked off by an axe murderer the police would find a neat little word document on my computer desktop with all of Mr First’s details. They’d take down the bastard!…except it would already be too late for me…

But the fact that he was willing to give me all this information reassured me he was safe and understood my nervousness. Combined with having chatted to him for a long time, I trusted him. Spoiler alert: by luck or judgement I survived to tell the tale.

I waved goodbye to my Mum, told her I was meeting a friend in town and off I went. A bus and two short train rides later I was pulling into a small station. The travelling had been an agonising mix of excitement and nerves. I looked out of the train window and I could see Mr First standing on the platform opposite, looking just like his picture. He looked very clean-cut in his smart suit. Despite being around 60, weathered and with white hair, he was quite dashing. I could tell when I looked at him, with his perfect teeth and smiling eyes, he was definitely the tall, dark and handsome kind of man girl’s would’ve swooned over back in ‘his day’.

We said hello, me feeling and most likely looking terrified. At this point a sensible person would’ve gone on to get a coffee and have a chat. I’d actually refused this idea beforehand because the thought of having to make intelligent conversation with him whilst scared and shy was worse than the thought of getting spanked.

I got into his car and we set off for his house. He worked from home so it wasn’t a problem meeting me in the afternoon of a work day. As we passed through the streets I made sure to look out of the window for any memorable landmarks I could look out for in the case of my emergency escape back to the station. I even tried to be clever and count the right and left turns but that didn’t work out like it does in films.

The car pulled straight into the garage, the shutters ominously locking us in there as we got out. There was no choice now but to follow Mr First through the door into the house. He led me through to the kitchen and offered various things to eat and drink, which I rejected. I just wanted to get things over with! He then asked me if I was nervous to which I couldn’t help but nod. After a brief hug he pointed me towards the stairs, gave me a firm smack over my jeans and told me to get moving.

I was led into the guest bedroom and was confronted with the scene I’d been thinking about for years. In the middle of the room stood a wooden chair and laid out on the bed was a leather paddle, a slipper and a strap…

computer trouble

From my stealthy glimpses online I’d discovered that I wasn’t the only one who found spanking exciting. I obviously hadn’t got through my teens without hearing some reference to it as a thing of enjoyment rather than purely discipline to be hated, but it was always in a way that portrayed anyone into those kinds of things as strange twisted people to be ridiculed or feared. It was either a dirty old politician with an orange in his mouth or a serial killer into bondage.

As I grew more confident at being sneaky and deleting traces of where I’d been, I started having a look at actual sites. I was still too nervous of being caught to watch any videos and there was only so much I could get out of pictures after a while so I turned to chat.

The perception I had of spankers was still partially what I’d been taught by the world; that they’re weird people who purely like to hurt others. I can understand why newbies are so jumpy about revealing things about themselves or don’t want to meet very quickly. I was accused a lot of being a timewaster or of being a man pretending to be a girl because I didn’t want to webcam for people or was too shy to phone them. It was pretty disheartening to be told constantly I wasn’t the real deal because I hadn’t experienced anything yet. I can now understand the more seasoned spanko’s point of view; there are people out there only playing out fantasies online, but I imagine a lot of newbies get driven away by negativity or pushiness.

Luckily for me I also came across some understanding people with the patience to let me learn at my own pace and who helped to build my confidence about things I wanted to try. As well as discussion with experienced spankers, a lot of that learning came through cyber roleplay. Even though none of the things were physically happening to me I could identify elements that particularly excited me or I liked the idea of or ideas that jarred in my brain slightly and didn’t seem so appealing.

I still didn’t know for sure whether I’d even be able to take any pain, let alone like it! The idea that I had fantasised about it for years and there was a possibility that after one try I’d be done with it was scary to me. I didn’t want to lose this thing that gave me a buzz. But I knew from my online play that I at least enjoyed parts of it; being cheeky, the telling off, embarrassment, the power struggle, feeling in trouble. I knew there was someone real at the other end telling me I was a naughty girl and I deserved to be punished. At last instead of just my imagination there was someone I could get into trouble with. They gave warnings, scolded me, cut off my pleas and arguments, all the things I’d wanted. I was even sent to the corner occasionally, having to wait til the ping of the instant messenger before I could come out. Heads on head, feet apart, and nose to the wall, I stood in the corner of my bedroom in disgrace in a house full of people who had no clue what I was up to. But there was one other person who knew and I loved thinking about that.

It wasn’t a quick process as there was plenty of ‘research’ to do online. By now I’d finished my first year at university and had established comfortable online friendships with a few people. With a long hot summer back at home ahead of me, with nothing to do before September, I finally decided I was ready to step away from the screen and take things into the real world.

dawn of a new age

Rewind a couple of years to when I was still only secretly naughty. I didn’t get the internet at home until I was 18 or 19, in my last year of school. This was a few years after most of my friends but I like to think I made a better use of it once it arrived!

The shared family computer sat in the corner of our front room, a busy place with people coming in and out of the house with the screen directly facing the door to the next room. Not an ideal location for a young kinkster to have the world at her fingertips. Combine this with a not-yet-very-computer-literate Dad paranoid about viruses and continually shuffling around unknown parts of the computer, I tried to be particularly careful about my internet use (something I wish my little brother was after I walked in on him looking at a naughty website in his dirty teen years)

Anyway, although I was very tentative when exploring online what had been in my head for so long, I was unable to resist the temptation so in safe moments I’d risk a look. I seem to remember I started off by translating the word ’spanking’ into French on Babelfish. I’d type it into Google Images and glimpse into this new world. Clichéd I know, but it was like seeing things in colour for the first time.

There were photos, old seaside postcards, illustrations, comics, paintings, Victorian pornography all for me to perv at. I could click on an image and have a look without any dodgy sites coming up on the internet history.

The word ‘fessée’ became my exciting little secret.