My Dearest Taylor,
Today is my birthday, a time for celebration. It is also a good time to review the past and make necessary changes for the future.
Birthdays hold many traditions: gifts, a cake with a candle for each year, and sometimes a birthday spanking. Birthday spankings have long been given by parents, close friends and lovers to mark the occasion. Often (I’ll bet) they are given as punishment and absolution for the sins of the past year and encouragement for the next.
This spanking tradition has long fascinated me, and I thought on the occasion of my thirtieth, you might try it with me. The attached package contains something you may find useful if you wish to participate in this ancient birthday ceremony.
With all my love, Robert
———————
I extended my drive until I was sure Taylor had more than enough time to discover the package, explore its contents and get over the initial shock, if any. When I re-entered the house, I saw that the package had vanished.
The rest of the afternoon passed as if nothing unusual was going on. In the evening, we got a little dressy and went out to dinner at a steakhouse we both like. I was on pins and needles waiting for the topic of spanking to arise through the drinks and the appetizer, but relaxed with an enjoyable dinner full of light and playful conversation through the steaks and a delicious red wine.
After I was long past expecting it, Taylor looked into my eyes and quietly said, “I got your note. It sounds like it could be fun. Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?”
I stammered, then admitted to my long-held fascination for spanking. In low tones over cake, ice cream and coffee, I described my fantasy of a long, thorough, humiliating, over-the-knee, bare-bottomed spanking.
“Real spanks,” Taylor asked at one point, “or just playful little swats?”
“In my fantasy, it’s real spanks,” I answered, “but a key element is that the spanker sets the tone and keeps full control of the spanking session.”
We didn’t talk much on the drive home, each of us buried in thoughts of our conversation over dessert.
When we arrived home, Taylor spoke up, “Well Dave, why don’t we get right to that birthday ceremony you requested. Come with me to the bedroom.”
As I followed Taylor into the bedroom, I began to have second thoughts. I have not been spanked since I was small, and those were just a few swats delivered to a fully clothed bottom. This could be rather embarrassing, and even a little painful. My concern jumped up a notch when I saw the straight-backed dining room chair in the center of our bedroom floor, with the contents of my present to Taylor laying on its seat. That little devil, I thought, she set this up just before we left for dinner.
Taylor walked over and stood next to the chair, leaned casually against it, and said with an evil look about the eyes, “You know what happens next. I want you naked from the waist down.”
This wasn’t easy, with Taylor standing there watching, but I had included the element of humiliation in the description of my fantasy. With some nervous fumbling, and with no help from my lover, I achieved the required condition.
I stood there, eyes downcast and blushing, as Taylor sat on the chair and beckoned me to approach. With butterflies in my stomach, and on shaky legs, I moved forward and soon found myself seized and lying upended over a pair of capable thighs.
While embarrassed, I wasn’t uncomfortable, and the realization of the position I was in and what would happen next stimulated me noticeably. This was heightened further when a familiar hand stroked and squeezed my bottom.
“I never noticed this before,” Taylor said, “but this is a very spankable bottom.” I wasn’t entirely sure this was good news, but at least it seemed to indicate I was not the only one getting into this scene.
After a few more minutes of strokes, touches and pats, Taylor spoke again, “Before we begin, Dave, are you sure you want to continue? Once begun, and in agreement with the rules you described, all choices past this point will be mine.”
“Y-yes,” I stammered with considerable trepidation but enjoying the moment and not wanting it to end, “let’s get on with it.”
“You asked for it. The number is thirty, right? We’ll start with that.”
Start with that, I thought, what does that mean? But before I could voice the question, I heard a loud SMACK and a mild sting developed on my right cheek. Not too bad, I thought. Then there was another SMACK directed to the other side. She was using her hand.
Taylor started a little tentatively—not an experienced spanker—but as we continued both the strength and the rhythm of the spanks began to increase. By about twenty, what started as a mild sting and a tingle grew into a distressful warmth covering most of my backside.
I counted the spanks, and as we approached thirty, the heat had grown to the point I was getting a little anxious about maintaining some sense of decorum until the whole thing was over. I emitted little gasps and a few involuntary kicks as the final spanks fell.
At the count of thirty, Taylor stopped, and I began to rise. It hadn’t been too bad, and at least I had now experienced a real adult spanking. My secret fantasy realized.
As I levered myself up, Taylor pushed me back into position with a firm hand in the small of my back. “Not just yet, Dave,” Taylor said, “we’ve completed the traditional thirty, but I don’t think we have yet addressed the ‘sins of the past’ as you so eloquently wrote in your letter. Besides, I haven’t used the little present you gave me. Let’s see, how did you phrase it in the note you enclosed in the box? Ah yes, here it is:
———-
When the heat of the seat
Becomes too hot for the hand,
Apply with enthusiasm
To the blushing, bare, bottom
Of the birthday boy.
———-
“Both your seat and my hand have grown a little hot, and, while this lovely wooden hairbrush may not cool your bottom any, I’m sure it will make a big difference to my hand,” Taylor chuckled.
With that I heard a resounding SMACK!! as a sharp fire penetrated my already sensitive right cheek. My head shot up, my legs kicked out and I emitted a surprised squeal in response to this new assault, soon duplicated with equal effect on the left side.
Taylor learned quickly during what was apparently our warm-up session. She showed no hesitancy now, but delivered each spank with confidence and authority. In no time at all I was feeling true remorse for all of my “sins of the past.” My little gasps and exclamations soon turned to apologies and pleading. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll be good from now on… You can stop now, please… No more, please… I’ve learned my lesson… I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” But Taylor just maintained the steady cadence. I was seriously, questioning my common sense when I earlier talked about the element of “loss of control” by the spankee. I did not realize she paid this much attention, or took me this literally.
After what seemed like hours but must have been only a few minutes, Taylor tapered off to a few final, well-placed spanks and stopped. We were back to the hand of my lover gently stroking my bottom, which in its current state forwarded every slightest touch to my overheated brain.
When I regained some control, Taylor helped me to stand. It was obvious we were both now in a high state of sexual excitement. Clothes were removed (not a lengthy process on my part), and we were soon on the bed enjoying the most exhilarating and satisfying sex we’d enjoyed in a long time.
Much later, as we lay spent in each other’s arms, Taylor whispered in my ear, “Is that what you had in mind all these years when you fantasized about being spanked?”
“Holy cow,” I exclaimed, “I had no idea just what a real spanking could be like. I’m not sure I ever want to go through that again.”
“It was a real experience, wasn’t it,” Taylor said with a chuckle. “You learned what a real spanking can be—what it is like to surrender control, to be taken over someone’s knee and to have your bare bottom spanked thoroughly and completely.
“I have a confession to make,” Taylor continued while massaging my still very tender backside. “When I first read your note, I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t at all sure I could satisfy your wish for real bottoms-up punishment, but I knew it was important to you or you would not have opened up the way you did. And, about half way through the initial hand spanking, I realized I was rather enjoying myself. I liked the feel of hand meeting deserving bottom, and your cute little cheeks do color up nicely, darling.
“You know, my birthday is coming up in a few months. We should schedule another session for that occasion. Of course, I am not the one who is into being spanked, so I guess we will just have to do a repeat of tonight’s arrangement.
“I’ve also been thinking about all of those little thoughtless things you do that annoy me,” Taylor continued. “Spanking has been shown to be a very effective teaching tool. You may want to be a little more careful in the future.”
Oh lord, I thought, what have I begun?!
