Story: The First Punishment

Hello friends, hope the weekend is going well for you all.  I’m going to share with you one of my first (and quite possibly worst), punishment spanking I’ve ever received.

I was 19 years old, the year was 2006, and yet here today, six years later, I am still overwhelmed by the feelings of that one afternoon.

What follows is a true and accurate account of that fateful day.  Although the name of the woman who punished me has changed for privacy reasons, the rest will be all fact, and no fiction.  I hope you enjoy.

The First Punishment

By: Jon Welts

  To say that I was always a good boy is not very accurate.  Sure, I was fairly well-behaved when growing up, and my parents never had to get onto me all that much, but I was far from the perfect angel that I was perceived to be.  Ever since I was in the 5th or 6th grade, I had this yearning curiosity about what it would be like to earn a real punishment, to get into trouble, to be spanked.

I can count on one hand the number of times that my parents actually got onto me about something and I can’t even count the number of times I should have been in trouble, or the number of spankings and other punishments that I witnessed for doing the exact same thing.

For example, when I was 5 or 6, I was in the front yard with my best friend and we were playing with a garden hose on a hot California day in the summer.  I got the bright idea to take the garden hose and put it inside the open window to the living room of the house!  After two very angry mothers confronted us about it and asked whose idea it was and who did it, I lied immediately and blamed my poor friend for doing it before he even had a chance to respond.  Worse yet, before he had another chance to respond, his mother was leading him by the ear into the house and swatting his swim trunks all the way up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.  I can still remember hearing the snap of a leather belt hitting bare skin and my friend’s cries and pleads all the way from down stairs.

So as you can see from moments like that, I was definitely no angel with golden wings that could do no wrong!  My parents never thought I could do something like that, however, I still had a wonderful childhood, and I love my parents to death even if discipline wasn’t high on their priority list…ok, so it wasn’t on their priority list at all apparently, but they were still the greatest parents anyone could ask for.

So fast forward a few years and I’ve graduated high school, trying to find out what to do with myself, and trying new things.  Things I’ve been wanting to try for the longest of time, such as finding someone to actually spank me. I was 19 when it finally happened to me.  I was spanked at a BDSM and spanking party on the other side of town.  Now that I finally got to experience what an actual spanking felt like, it was time on to move to the next logical step.

What was it like to be in real trouble and be punished?

To find this answer, I kept going back to this semi-private spanking and S&M club to search for someone who could help me find that answer.  It didn’t really take long, two or three weeks later, I met a woman who seemed very different from the rest of the crowd. 

She was very tall, 6 feet tall in fact. Blonde short hair and piercing, strict, brown eyes peering over a pair of small-framed glasses.  Her name was Cheyenne….Miss Cheyenne.

I met Miss Cheyenne while talking to the owner of the club who introduced us to each other.  After being my shy self for a few moments, I began to lighten up and become friendly and wanted to know if she wanted to go out to the back patio and talk for a while.  

A little while somehow turned into hours as the night turned into the early morning.  She was very fascinating, and actually seemed to be fascinated in me, which at that time in my life, was a rare thing to accomplish. I did pick up that her favorite interest was over the knee spankings.  When I heard this of course, my eyes lit up so bright that you probably could have seen them for miles around.  Here it was, here was my chance to get what I always wanted.

We ended up exchanging phone numbers and email addresses that night and she said that she would be in touch and to remember to be a good boy…or else!  Upon hearing this, I thought I was going to go into cardiac arrest at 19 years old! My heart seemed to stop and time stood still.  Was this really happening to me?

After getting to know her better over email and chatting on the phone she decided to invite me over to her place for dinner the next weekend.  Now, for anybody that is new to this lifestyle and is a newbie getting spanked for the first time, I highly recommend that you not do things how I did them.  You often forget that this world is full of unsavory creatures and sometimes you have to take extra precautions in this day and age. Here’s a tip, if a Top invites you to their place for time alone for a first or even second time meeting…play it safe!  Let someone else in the scene know where you are going and have them check in with you once or twice throughout the night.  This was a valuable lesson that I later learned and really want to share with the rest of the community.  Ok, enough said.

Driving to her place, I was an emotional wreck.  I was sweaty, I was nervous, I didn’t know how to play things! I tried my best to calm down and just play things by ear.  I also didn’t realize that I missed an important step in the rules that Miss Cheyenne laid out for me before I went to her house that day.  She gave me explicit instructions to call or text her when I was on my way to her house.  I realized I forgot this rule as I was walking up to her doorstep!

With sweaty palms, I reached for the doorbell but before I could, Miss Cheyenne opened the door and gave me this steely gaze that made me almost want to break down in tears right then and there!  I tried to offer somewhat of an apology, however it came out muffled and stuttered.  She stood in the doorway wearing a white turtleneck sweater and jeans, with arms crossed and a piercing gaze that told me in no uncertain terms that I just landed myself in trouble…real trouble.

    “You better have a good excuse as to why you didn’t call me young man, do you realize that I was expecting that phone call so that I could start getting ready for your arrival?” She said, as my heart started to pound in my chest as my entire face grew flush.  I had absolutely nothing to say, no excuse, no real reason, not even a “hello” I was completely speechless.

   “Well, guess not then.  That’s ok, you’ll be paying for it soon enough.  Get in here right now!” And with that, I was then being led into the house by a strong arm on my bicep and I was being led through the foyer and down the hall straight ahead.

I had no idea where I was going and frankly, I was starting to get extremely nervous. I was pushed into a basic guest bedroom where there wasn’t much in way of furniture except for the basics, a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a chair.

    “Go stick your nose in that corner and wait for me to return.  Get your nose touching the wall and put your hands on your head.”  She was now pointing to the corner and I could do nothing but immediately scurry over to the corner.

In position as told with my hands on my head, I was now really worried about what might happen when all this is said and done.  Miss Cheyenne turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her, making me jump, and I heard her march down the hallway into what I assumed was her own Master Bedroom.

Minutes seemed like hours as I could hear her getting ready in the bedroom across the hall. I could tell she was getting dressed and from the rustling sound of wood, I could tell that she was more than likely choosing a wooden implement of some sort to come and spank me with.

15 to 20 minutes later, she finally opens the door and slowly makes her way into the bedroom.  I could hear my heart beating in my own chest and my palms were getting sweaty again.

She takes me by the ear and leads me to the center of the bedroom.  Taking the chair that lined one of the walls, she places it in the center of the room and has a seat in front of me.  Still with her strict and fixating gaze upon me she crosses her arms and makes me feel like I’m 2 years old.  She’s now wearing a black sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, a long red skirt, black pantyhose, and a pair of black high heels.

    “So anything to say for yourself before we begin young man?  You know what you’re getting, you’re getting a good, bare-bottom spanking.  You know you’ve been having this coming for a while, and you know that little stunt of yours you just pulled did not help your case one bit!”

Still speechless, I fight for words with a dry mouth. I start becoming fidgety which I see starts to annoy her, so I freeze.

    “I….I don’t know what to say Miss Cheyenne…I’m sorry Ma’am.” was the best I could do at this time.

    “Oh, you’re sorry alright, but not as sorry as you’re going to be, I can promise you that.  You know this is going to be a punishment spanking and you know this will mean no warm-ups for your bare-bottom young man. Get those pants and underwear down to your ankles….right now.”

Face flushed with heat and embarrassment, I fumble with trying to take my belt off and unzipping my blue jeans.  I finally get them down and reveal to her a pair of black boxer-briefs.  Swallowing hard and with her piercing gaze upon me, I lower them too down over my hips and join them with my jeans at my ankles.

She flashes a smile of approval as she takes me by the hand and leads me over to her right side.  Silently, she pulls me across her lap and I try as best as I can to try to get comfortable in this very awkward position for me.  This is my first over the knee spanking ever, and I had no idea it was going to be like this!

Positioning me squarely across her lap, she pats my bottom and begins to rub my cool cheeks that I know for sure won’t be very cool for long.  I notice that I’m facing a full length closet mirror in the bedroom and have a feeling that this is not by accident, she wants me to be able to see myself getting spanked.

    “Are you ready for this?” She asks and all of sudden I think to myself “What on earth type of questions is that?” Of course I’m not ready, I’ve dreamt of this moment for pretty much all of my life and I can’t believe it’s about to happen any second now.  What does one say to a question like that?

    “Yes Ma’am, I’m ready.”

I feel a wisp of cold air as I sense that she has just raised her hand up to deliver the first spank.  I clench my cheeks in anticipation but know it is a useless gesture.

WHAM! The first spank lands squarely in the middle of my bare, upturned bottom and I feel like someone has just hit me with a 2×4!  I feel the wind get knocked out of me and all I can do is make a loud gasping sound.  Before I even realize what happened to me and before I get a chance to catch my breath, swat number two lands in the exact same place.  The intensity is already more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my young life and I can’t believe even my own ears, as I let out a piercing scream and jump across her lap.

This large, 6′ tall woman has no problem holding down my small 5’5″ frame and continues to spank my cheeks in an alternating pattern as hard and as fast as she can.  I begin to kick and squeal and soon realize that I clearly did not know what I was getting myself into.  This was definitely punishment….THIS is what it meant to actually be in trouble.

3 minutes pass and her hard hand spanking stops. I’m a sweaty, blubbering mess as I lay limp across her lap not knowing where in the world I’m even at.  I quickly snap back to reality as she picks up a large wooden hairbrush and snaps it firmly against my right, now glowing red, butt cheek.

I begin to panic and start trying to get off her lap and protest, but I’m held firmly in place and reminded why I was here and what was actually happening.  I was told to take my spanking like a good boy and to hold on!

She brought the brush down as hard and as fast as she did with her hand and once again, I was reduced to a squirming and squealing child.  Over and over the brush snapped down on my tender behind and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Although I was putting up quite a fuss, I still was not sure if I was reacting strongly enough to the spanking to produce real tears.  Perhaps I was missing an emotional element to all this?  Perhaps I really couldn’t cry from a spanking?

5 excruciating and brutal minutes pass slowly when she finally lays the brush down on the bed.  She starts to rub my now incredibly hot and incredibly sore bottom.  She takes a complete 180 and all of a sudden starts soothing me, something I wasn’t expecting but something I for sure wanted and needed at about that time.

I climbed up off her lap as fast as I could and I wrapped my arms around her in the warmest hug that I’ve given in a while.  She returns the hug and holds me close, telling me that she was proud of me and that it was all over now.

Hearing these words trigger that something I was missing, that emotional element that I thought was lost.  Upon hearing what she said, I burst into tears and could do nothing else but squeeze her tighter in my embrace.

I look back into the mirror, curious at how my bottom was looking after my first punishment spanking and I’m shocked at the results…a purple bottom!  I wince at the sight and cling to her like a little lost puppy.

She comforts me for a few moments and then encourages me to pull up my pants and underwear so that we can go and have some dinner.  She takes a tissue and wipes the sweat off my face and the tears from my eyes and gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead.

    As we head out of the bedroom and down the hall I stop and give her another big hug. I shyly thanked her for giving me what I have been deserving for a very long time and promising to be a better behaved boy.  We smiled at each other and continued to the dining room to have a great dinner of spaghetti and meatballs.  As you might suspect, I ate my dinner standing up!

Even with a red-hot and very sore bottom…I was all smiles the rest of the night.

The End,