On the outside I give no clues to my kink I don’t wear rubber or live in a cage…I don’t have memories of a traumatic c***dhood it was annoyingly idyllic.
However as a boy I noticed this growing trend the mild excitement on hearing or seeing a pupil thrashed by a teacher or reading my comics depicting spanking in its cartoon form.
I never intentionally misbehaved to get walloped it seemed to happen at school for the most menial things…littering…being cheeky…drawing in the back of your maths book!….these type of things guaranteed you an afternoon of squirming on a hot sore bottom until you went home and could check the damage in a mirror and give your bottom a thorough rubbing…Ah it was heaven!
I also enjoyed the voyeuristic aspect of seeing an unfortunate youth receiving the same treatment…. most teacher’s at my school favoured the slipper which was a battered old plimsoll or tennis shoe applied with vim and vigour to the arse of the howling c***d.
Sometimes a ruler would be used I detested rulers across the palm of the hand often this would confound the ability to write neatly and cause further upset…writing with a sore bottom is irritating but writing with a throbbing palm is far worse!
When our original old school Headmaster was replaced by a younger fitter model on his retirement he got a huge cheer on his last day mostly because a lot of us were glad to see the back of the old goat!…. and his awful training shoe with thick sole that had left a lasting impression on many of our arses!
The new Headmaster threatened a lot but never resorted to CP so as much as an ear bashing from him was embarrassing it was favourable to a bum bashing!
It was strange to me that once school was over I missed the conformity and rules ..at first it was very freeing but that was a novelty that wore off soon enough.
In my teenage years I experimented with self spanking My father always at a loss why his garden canes were all damaged and why his willow Tree was missing so many branches and looked so shabby!….I wonder if he suspected at all?…
I tried to arrange two mirrors so I had one in front and one behind me so I could see what I was doing whilst flogging myself into a stupor…
I really tried to be accurate and get horizontal lines running across my arse as opposed to just random marks.
Covert spanking was important and being caught wasn’t an option.
My brother would disappear for hours on his bike and generally my dad would be out at work all day…
This meant I could indulge myself in my little fetishtic hobby.