I have to admit that I hesitated a bit out of either shyness or embarrassment (and the probably pleasure of having him deep inside of me) before answering that I would like to be spanked. When he had cum, we talked more about it. I told him how I had often been spanked at home, with dad sometimes using his belt on after making me pull down my pants or even remove them and my underwear entirely. It was not rare to get a whipping entirely nude. I remembered the embarrassment, humiliation, and pain of these which often happened at the insistence of ma, and in front of her and my siblings. I wanted to experience that again. I wanted to have the feeling of being physically punished until I cried. Michael was very interested, and wanted to try it the next week. That Monday, I had a business trip to Seattle, and while there, I bought a black paddle with holes in it. It was little over ¼ thick, but the female clerk whacked herself on the butt with it and assured me that it would do the job even on a full-grown man. Over the next few days, we exchanged emails setting up a role play scenario for that Saturday. Over our time together, we enjoyed all sorts of kinky to extremely kinky role plays: Michael walking in and catching me on a big dildo; him as a doctor giving me a prostate exam and discovering that I had been having receptive anal sex; him as a customs agent doing a strip and body cavity search for d**gs. All of which would lead to serious corporal punishment, from OTK, to belting, paddling, birching, caning, and even bastinado (whipping the soles of the naked feet). But for the first, it was simply him walking in on me playing with my dick. Saturday finally arrived after a whole week of intense anticipation for both of us. I left the front door unlocked and Michael walked in on me while I had my pants unzipped and my soft cock (I was so excited that I could not get hard, if that makes sense!) in my hand trying to wank. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, just like my dad would do. No matter the absurd explanation I gave as to why I had my cock out playing with it, he did not accept it. He told me to get the paddle and that he was going to teach me not to play with my little dick. He had me strip naked and get on my knees to apologize to him. My apology, was of course, not good enough, so he ordered me to crawl over to my weight training bench and bend over the angled upper part. There was no warm up. Just like dad did, it was full force from the beginning. The first took my breath away. I was shocked at how hard a man could hit. (I had played with a Domina before, and although she could bring the most intense, exquisite pain, with any instrument, the brute force was nothing like a man’s nor was the embarrassment at the same level.) I counted “one” as ordered, and the next followed immediately. Again, the shock and pain radiated from my naked bottom to the top of my head and tips of my bare toes. A familiar pain, a familiar humiliation and awareness of not being in control of my own body, my own reactions. Yelps, cries, and grunts from the pain at each impact naturally came out. The tensing of my butt cheeks, the slight dance I did involuntarily, the flexing of my fingers and toes, the uncontrollable reaction of my body under his gaze, and under his control. He was making me do things that I had not done since I was young, and he was watching and hearing me do them. This knowledge was as embarrassing to me as the paddling was painful. I think we only did 15-20 hard strokes that time, and then went into my bedroom for some very hot sex. Michael later told me that he loved to have anal sex after whipping me as my ass, inside and out was extra hot from the beating. We continued until I moved away. In fact, Michael turned out to be a natural Dominant, and even became addicted to whipping and dominating me. It got to the point that just having our regular sex was not enough and he almost always wanted to do a role play and a whipping before. The relationship took a new turn and I felt truly submissive to him. I got into a head-space of not wanting to displease him, not wanting to make him whip me , although I actually wanted and loved that. In that way, the urge to please, but ultimately failing and suffering a harsh whipping on my bare butt was reminiscent of my days with dad.

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