I was generally a very biddable and obedient boy for my parents – but no child is perfect and my mother in particular wasn’t slow to warm my bottom if she felt it was called for.
One such spanking has remained in my memory ever since, and I think it greatly contributed to my developing a spanking fetish, which has stayed with me into adulthood.
I was 11 years old and beginning to feel the effects of hormonal changes. I was certainly getting regular erections by then and had learned that playing with my penis felt really good. I’m not sure I had experienced an actual orgasm at that point, and I certainly hadn’t ejaculated.
I was at a friend’s house, and his dad had an impressive stash of Playboy magazines, all hidden in a cardboard box in his wardrobe. My friend had discovered where the magazines were kept and one day, when he and I were alone in the house, he showed me the hoard and we spent a long time looking at them.
I was naturally fascinated by this early anatomy lesson. I soon got hard, as did my friend, and although we were too shy to get our penises out, we both squeezed and rubbed ourselves through our pants as we looked through the magazines.
We had to stop before too long because my friend’s mom was due back, but when my friend went to the bathroom, I quickly slid one magazine into a bag I had with me. I didn’t tell my friend I’d taken it – my hormones were surging and I thought that my friend’s dad wouldn’t miss just one.
The next day, back at home, I retrieved the magazine from my bag. I didn’t think anyone else was around, so I slid down my pants and underwear and began to touch myself as I looked through the pictures. All the beautiful bare boobs, bottoms and pussies made me bigger and harder than I had ever been before in my life and I was jerking off for dear life…when my mother walked through the door, which in my eagerness to masturbate I had forgotten to lock.
Looking back, I don’t know which of us was more embarrassed. Certainly, I was mortified at my mother seeing me with this huge erection, and it was undoubtedly a shock for her to walk in on her little boy masturbating for all he was worth. One thing’s for sure, though – she was mad as hell!
“You dirty, naughty boy! What on earth do you think you are doing?” With a face as red as a beet, I went to pull up my pants and briefs, but my mother stopped me. “You may as well keep those pants down, young man, because you are going to get a spanking – right now!” She grabbed the magazine. “And this is going in the trash. Wait there!”
It was quite a chilly autumn day and without the excitement and heat of sexual arousal, my penis quickly went limp and I became aware of the cold around both my privates and my bottom. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I reflected that the latter would be warm enough before too very long.
Sure enough, my mother came back a few minutes later and she was holding the paddle she kept for disciplining me and my sister. She sat down on the bed and beckoned me to come over to her. As soon as I got close enough, she took me by the wrist and pulled me down over her knee. By now, both my sister and I were old enough that we were usually told to bend over for a paddling, but I guess my mother wanted to make me feel like a little boy.
“I will not have filth like that in this house – and you are far too young to be playing with yourself like that. It isn’t healthy or natural, and I won’t stand for it!”
With that, she began to paddle me thoroughly. It had been almost a year since I had been last spanked, and I had forgotten just how painful my mother could make such an experience. My bottom was ablaze after only a few swats, and there were many more which followed. I cried unashamedly.
When she thought I’d had enough, she pulled me to my feet and put me in the corner with my pants still down, and to complete my shame my sister saw my bare bottom as she passed my doorway, although mercifully my mother didn’t tell her why she had spanked me.
That wasn’t exactly the end of the trouble. When I saw my friend next, he asked whether I had taken a magazine. I initially denied it but eventually confessed. I didn’t tell him about my spanking, but he told me his dad had assumed he was the culprit and had given him a bare-bottom belting for his trouble.
I then finally told my friend about my own paddling. His response was to yank down my trousers and pants and he put me over his own knee, giving me a pretty good hand spanking. I had a bit of a cry again but when I rose from his lap, I noticed I had a hard-on, and my friend’s crotch also sported a tell-tale bulge.
As I say, this whole episode was pretty pivotal in the forming of my spanking fetish, which I struggled with for a long time in my life but eventually made peace with in my mind. I began to seek out the services of professionals to roleplay with me, always resulting in either a hand spanking or a paddling.