How NOT to find out that your disciplinarian is a law enforcement officer

Jim was my regular disciplinarian, as I've written about before. As long as he was the only one who spanked me for discipline, and I met with him at least monthly, I was allowed to get spankings from anyone I wanted as often as I wanted.

I had been talking online with a guy named Doug. He lived in Austin, but he came to Houston to see me. He was a switch, and topping was never really my thing, but it got me a spanking, so I did it. Doug said I spanked too hard! During his visit, he told me that he had a whole gallon-size ziploc bag full of weed at his place in Austin. I had only smoked twice before, but I loved it, and I told him I'd be headed his way for a visit very soon.

So, a couple of weekends later, I went to Austin for the weekend. I spent the whole weekend stoned. Pot, pizza, and paddles.... a hell of a weekend. (Disclaimer for any current or potential spankers reading this: No, Sir, I don't do it anymore.) Anyway, I was using Doug's computer to check in with Jim. I was stoned off my ass. So stoned that my hands didn't look like they were attached to my arms. It was awfully funny at the time... my hands were typing on the keyboard, but I didn't have any arms!! Um, ok, anyway.... I was chatting with Jim, and he asked me how I was doing with smoking, and reminded me that each cigarette over a pack would cost me 20 swats.

I said, "Yes, Sir. How many do bong hits count?" I thought I was being very funny.

He said, "It depends on what's in the bong, young lady."

I asked, "What do you THINK is in the bong, Sir?"

He said, "You know I can't condone that, young lady. We'll discuss it later. Bye for now."

Can't condone it? Huh? Oh well....

So I went back to Houston, and I met with him and got my spanking for something.... I don't know what it was. We were sitting and talking afterwards, and I brought up spending the weekend smoking pot. He said a few things... I don't remember what they were. But a little while later, I mentioned something about my job - which at the time was working with battered women. I mentioned a woman who had said that she beat up her husband as much as he beat her up.

Jim said, "Yeah, I've had to arrest a couple of women for domestic violence before."

I started to say something when it hit me what he had said. "Uhh... arrested?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Arrested? Are you.... are you.... a cop?"

He was trying hard not to laugh at this point, "Yes, didn't you know that?"

"No! I didn't know you were a cop!!! I just sat here and told you that I spent the whole weekend stoned! Do you think I would have told you that if I'd known you were a COP??"

He then failed miserably at holding back his laughter. "Your face is as red as your ass!" Hmm... I did not find it funny. "Why did you think I said I couldn't condone that?"

"Well, I didn't know! But I didn't know you were a cop!!!!" I could have gladly crawled in a hole and died.

He looked at me seriously then, "Young lady, I'd prefer you didn't do that, if only because it is illegal. But if you're going to, for God's sake, don't tell me about it."

"Yes, Sir! Now that I know you're a cop!"

Seriously, how did I not know the man was a police officer? Yes, I did often wonder about the police cruiser that was always parked at his apartment complex, but I didn't realize it was his.

Learning the hard way

I've always been a discipline spanking kind of girl. My fantasies were always about the very strict, stern man who would spank me. He was firm, but never cruel. He spanked me for my own good, because I had done something to deserve it, and he did it because he cared about me. This was my fantasy since I was a little girl.

Twelve or thirteen years ago, when I was getting the most spanking action of my life, I would bare my bottom and bend over for nearly any man with a paddle in his hand. I was always up front about the fact that I wanted discipline spankings, and many of those men were willing to give me their version of that. But it was mostly play. And that was okay, because I enjoyed getting spanked, and they enjoyed spanking me. They were role-playing discipline spankings at best, even if I wasn't playing a role besides myself. What I mean by that is this - technically I was being spanked for something that I had done, and therefore it fell into the realm of discipline spanking. But it was lacking something for me most of the time - it was lacking the genuine caring from the other person. Not that they didn't care about me on some level. But it wasn't the same.

Eventually, among these men, I found one willing to be my mentor. He preferred that term to disciplinarian. A mentor was a trusted teacher, he said. A disciplinarian was just someone who carried out the discipline. Jim was one of the good guys. He got to know me. He didn't just want a confession so he could spank me. He was truly interested in helping me change things in my life. We exchanged daily e-mails, chatted online a few times a week, and usually met weekly for a spanking. Sometimes it was two weeks, sometimes it was twice a week. It just depended on what was going on.

At that time in my life, I needed a LOT of structure. I needed someone to tell me what to do and when to do it. I had no idea how to live my life. So we sat down together and made some rules. They weren't all necessarily hard and fast - if they weren't working, we'd agree on how to change them. I created plenty of reasons to get spanked. I pushed limits like you wouldn't believe. I had an online curfew of 11 pm on worknights. Perfectly reasonable. It was actually the time I picked. But boy, if he was online to notice, I wouldn't log off until 11:05. Things like that weren't that big of a deal, and we both knew it. But he spanked me for it anyway, because I had broken the agreed upon rules.

There were some serious things we were working on. Things that he only knew how I was doing on them by what I told him. And here's where things got complicated. I desperately wanted to make him proud of me. Disappointing him was just devastating to me. But I was in a place in my life where I couldn't seem to do anything right. It seemed like I was messing up everything in my life. Now I had someone right there who was willing to help me with those things. Someone who had alot more experience living life than I had, and who was perfectly happy to share his experiences and help me learn. But I failed to take advantage of it.

Like I said, the thought of disappointing him was devastating. I thought if I told him about all the mistakes I was making, he would be disappointed in me. I wanted to make him happy with me. So I lied to him. When he asked how some certain thing had gone, I told him it was good. I told him I had done what I was supposed to do, whether it was going to work (on time or at all), staying at or under a pack of cigarettes for the day, paid my rent or other bills, or whatever it was. I'd lie and lie and lie... and finally it would eat at me enough and I'd confess that I'd spent the last month or six weeks lying about this, this, or this.

The first time, he had me write "I will not lie" 500 times and he gave me one of the hardest spankings he had up until that point. The second time I did it, it was "I will not lie" 1500 times, and the spanking.... well, he came to my place for that one - he walked in, told me to get my pants down and bend over the stool, and without another word proceeded to thrash my bottom with a cane. When he was done, he told me to stand in the corner for half an hour, and he left. He had never spanked me without talking first, never not talked to me during the spanking, and never not sat and talked with me after the spanking. I cried so hard standing in that corner... not because of how much my bottom hurt (and it DID hurt), but because I knew that my lies had been far more disappointing to him than if Ihad just told him the truth about what was going on in my life.

You'd think that would have taught me to be honest with him. That would have made sense. I did swear to myself that I would behave myself, and that I'd be honest with him when I wasn't. It didn't last long, though. The third, and final time I confessed to him that I'd been lying to him, he didn't spank me. He didn't lecture me. He apologized to me. He apologized for failing me as my mentor. He said he would always care about me, but that he would no longer be able to discipline me. He wished me the best and said goodbye.

I've grown up alot since then. I'm no less of a brat, by any means. And my smart mouth has been honed with the extra years of practice. And I still make mistakes. Lots of them. Some of them are bigger than others. Sometimes, even when I know what's right and wrong, I choose the wrong thing. But I'm learning to be up front and honest about those things, and to admit my guilt now, instead of six weeks from now.

I hope it doesn't take me another 12 years to learn to choose to do the right thing in the first place!

The Idiot. Or, Respect Must Be Earned

All the experiences I've written about so far are at least several years old. The more new stuff that goes into my head, the more old stuff slips out, so I figure I should preserve the old stuff first. But this one... this one has earned being told now. There is no actual spanking involved here, but I think it's entertaining just the same.

This actually started a couple of weeks ago. On a spanking personals site, this guy sent me a "smile." I read his profile - he lives several states away, and didn't say anything about travelling. I "smiled" back at him, but figured that would be the end of it, as it usually is. He smiled at me again the next day. I don't play the smiling back and forth game - if you're interested after a smile, send me a message. If I'm interested after a smile, I'll send you a message. See how easy that is? Anyway, he kept sending me smiles. Finally, he sent me a message, and during a few message exchanges, it came down to: he wants to spank me, he doesn't travel to Oklahoma for any reason, he's five years younger than I am. It's not a hard and fast rule with me, but in general, I just don't have the right chemistry for spanking with a guy who is younger than I am. Anyway, I politely told him I appreciated his interest, but it really didn't seem like it was going to work out. He said we should chat and see what happened.

So yesterday evening, I was bored, and thought I would go check out the chat room on that particular site. I used to play there alot several years ago, and I know the dynamics and maturity level of most of the people who hang out there. Certainly not all - I've talked with some very nice people there. I enjoy chatting about my experiences and such, but I outgrew cyber spankings 15 years ago, and just because your name is capitalized and mine's not doesn't mean you can top me.

So I'm chatting with several different people at once, and there he is. Oh, how I wish I had saved our chat. I'll recreate it here the best I can.

Idiot: Hi

Me: Hi

Idiot: I really want to spank you

Me: That would be nice, but unfortunately probably not realistic

Idiot: Why not?

Me: Well, because you are in California, I'm in Oklahoma, and neither of us travel.

Idiot: So?

Me: So?? Well, I have some big paddles, but I don't have any THAT long.

Idiot: You could text me.

Me: I'm looking for real life spankings, not cyber spankings or text spankings.

Idiot: Well can't we chat and see what happens?

Me: Fine, I guess there's no harm in chatting.

Idiot: See?

Me: (no answer)

Idiot: So what are you looking for?

Me: Real life spankings

Idiot: From just one person?

Me: Well, ideally, mostly from just one person, with maybe an occasional play spanking from others on occasion.

Idiot: I'd like to be that main person for you.

Me: I hear that, but again... you don't live here.

Idiot: You could call me.

Me: No.

Idiot: No?

Me: No.

Idiot: Why?

Me: I don't do phone spankings either.

At this point I get bumped offline. I get back on.

Idiot: Hello?

Me: Sorry, got bumped

Idiot: That's ok, happens all the time

Me: Yeah

I get bumped again

Idiot: You get bumped again?

Me: Yes, dammit

Idiot: You watch that mouth young lady I spank for that

Me: (no answer)

Idiot: So when were you last spanked?

Me: Thursday

Idiot: Who did it?

Me: Someone I met

Idiot: Who?

Me: You don't know him.

Idiot: Was it hard?

Me: Yes

Idiot: Was it bare?

Me: Started over the jeans, ended up bare.

Idiot: Did you cry?

Me: No

Idiot: I'd have made you cry

Me: No you wouldn't have.

I get bumped again

Me: Dammit!

Idiot: Whack! Whack! Smack! I told you to watch your mouth!

Me, now totally fed up with the idiot: Well, you know, I would watch my mouth, but my nose is in the way and all.

Idiot: You know what I meant

Me: Wow

Idiot: I'll wash your mouth out with soap

Me: Well shit, I better not fucking cuss anymore then

Idiot: Smack! smack! smack! Call me right now! My number is ###-###-####!!!!

Me: Are you fucking kidding me?

Idiot: Are you testing me young lady?

Me: Me? Oh no! I'd NEVER do that.

Idiot: That's good, because you won't win.

Me: Too late, honey, I just did.

And then I blocked him.

Seriously, whack whack smack? What the hell, dude? I chatted with like 7 other people, all of them tops/Doms, and not one other person said anything remotely like whack whack smack. And I'll tell you what - a couple of those guys actually got a yes, Sir or two out of me during our chats. Respect. Because they had earned a bit of it.

The Spanking Christmas Party

Christmas 1998. Wow, I can't believe it was ten years ago! My spanking friends and I had a Christmas party. There were seven of us there. We played cards, and watched some homemade spanking videos, but I was the only one who got spanked. And that was because J, my regular disciplinarian was there, and he decided that we should show everyone the kind of spanking I got. Great.

He had me bend over the back of the chair in the living room. J usually only spanked me bare bottom, and only for discipline, but he said since it wasn't a true discipline spanking, and it was in front of other people he would let me leave my jeans up. The rest of the group was a little disappointed - and I thought they were my friends!

He said he would give me five hard swats. With the 24 inch 7-ply Baltic Birch plywood fraternity paddle...with holes. Damn, I hated that paddle. It hurt like hell!

He gave me the first swat. Oh yeah, it was definitely a hard one! He let it settle in for a few seconds, then gave me the second one, as hard as the first. Another few seconds, and then the third swat. "How many was that?" he asked me.

"Three," I said.

He leaned towards me a little bit. "How many?" he asked.

I thought he hadn't heard me. I knew my count was correct. "Three," I said, a little louder.

He leaned closer, "How many?" he asked, louder.

I was just about to smart off and say "Three. What are you deaf or something?" when I realized what he wanted to hear. "Three, Sir," I said.

"That's better." The fourth swat came down hard. There was a pause, then he cleared his throat, indicating he was waiting on me to say something.

"Four, Sir," I said.

And then the fifth swat landed, harder than any of the first four. I almost jumped up, but didn't. "Five, Sir," I said.

He told me I could stand up. I stood, and as I rubbed my smarting bottom, I grinned and told him what I had almost said when he asked me how many for the third time. He laughed and then said, "If you had, you'd have gotten 10 more that hard on your bare bottom."

What can I say? The man loved my smart mouth, even though he spanked me regularly for it. Hell, maybe that's why he loved my smart mouth!

The one that made me cry

In all the spankings I've gotten as an adult, very few of them have made me cry. As is true with most other people I've talked to about being spanked as an adult, the tears are far more about emotion than about pain. I tend to get moody, and sometimes, a good hard paddling is just what I need to ... well... adjust my attitude.

This particular spanking took place when I was living with R. and P. - He spanked her, they both spanked me. I'd had a really bad attitude for a couple of days. Nothing in my life seemed to be going right, and I was quite irritable about it. The three of us were out at Applebees for lunch. We were talking about the fact that I had blown out the engine on my car, and that I needed a job, but couldn't look for one without the car. I don't remember the exact details, but R. was making suggestions about how to deal with things, and I was shooting his ideas down as quickly as he was coming up with them. We were both getting frustrated, and I finally snapped at him one too many times. He gave me the look I had come to know very well and said, "That attitude of yours has gotten out of control, young lady, and I'm going to fix it when we get home."

My stomach flip-flopped and my throat tightened. I was in for it. "Yes, Sir," I said. My attitude was much more subdued the rest of the meal. I didn't really taste my food much because I knew I was going to get a hard spanking, and that's all I could think about. R spanked hard when he wasn't mad at me. And he was not at all happy with me now.

He didn't waste much time when we got home. He got his favorite paddle... I don't know what kind of wood it was, but it was big and it hurt... and he pulled the leather chair out into the middle of the living room and we stood behind it. He pointed at the back of the chair with the paddle. "Get your britches down and get over there," he said.

Oh shit - he was starting out with me bare bottom. Usually he started over my jeans, but not when I was in serious trouble with him. "Yes, Sir," I said as I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pushed them and my panties down and bent over the back of the chair. That chair - it was just the right height. Bending over the back of it put my bottom high in the air, and I had to reach a bit to get my hands on the seat, so it took some work to get out of position once I was in it. A perfect punishment spanking chair.

He didn't start the spanking immediately. Instead, he started lecturing me, with me there with my bare bottom stuck up in the air. I don't remember everything he said, but it was about my attitude, about being respectful, about how hard the spanking I was about to get was going to be, about how I was going to remember this one for awhile. My part in the conversation was all "Yes, Sir" or "No, Sir."

Then the paddling began. It was hard. And fast. I don't mean it was over quickly, I mean the swats came one after another. He had spanked me that hard before, but it had always been slow, giving me some time between swats. It hardly seemed like the paddle had left my bottom before it was coming down again. It hurt, and it hurt alot. And the swats just kept coming.

I can take a very hard spanking and I usually maintain my composure pretty well no matter how much it hurts. But my emotions were raw, and I needed this spanking. And I needed it just as hard as he was giving it to me. Still, I tried to be tough, to take what he was giving me without breaking down. But he was not letting up. Those who know me well know that I'm about to break during a spanking when I put my hands on my head and grab my hair - I didn't even know I did it until someone told me. But anyway, I was about to break, and I buried my face in the cushion of the chair and my hands were clenched in my hair.

Then, somehow, he managed to make the swats come down even harder. A few swats later, I started crying. No, not crying, sobbing. All the feelings I'd had going on that I'd kept bottled up inside came pouring out. Between sobs I managed to say I was sorry. And when he asked me if this was going to help me with my attitude, my answer was a very sure "Yes, Sir!" He lightened up the swats some, but didn't stop right away.

When he finally did stop, he let me stay over the chair until I had stopped crying. When I did stop, he told me I could stand up and pull up my pants. My bottom was on fire, but I pulled my panties and my jeans and started wiping away my tears.

He told me to come sit down so we could finish the talk we were trying to have at lunch. I walked over to the couch and sat down. And for the first time that I'd ever sat down after a spanking, I jumped right back up and asked him if was ok if I stood instead! That was the only time it's happened. I've had plenty of spankings that made me sit a little carefully, but have never had one since that truly made it that difficult to sit afterwards.

Life as a young spankaholic

I don't remember a time as a child that I wasn't completely fascinated by spanking. I used to lie in bed at night and fantasize about being pulled over someone's knee and being spanked hard and fast. When my mom took a nap, I would sneak her paddle out of the kitchen drawer, go up to my bedroom, turn on my radio, go in my closet and spank myself with it, and sneak it back to the drawer before she woke up. As my brother and sister and I got older and the spankings got less frequent, I started keeping the paddle hidden in my closet for longer periods of time. One day, my mom was looking for it and I was just sure she would know that I had it. Fortunately, she thought my brother or sister had taken it and hidden it because they were the ones it got used on most. I was the good kid - Ha! Helped that I was the baby of the family.

Whenever a kid at school talked about being spanked at home, I was all ears, wanting to hear about it. I remember reading passages of books over and over that had spankings or even references to them in them. I don't remember some of the books, but I still remember certain sentences. I remember this one: "Next he picked up a hairbrush and gave Mary Jane a spanking. She tried to tell him it was the witch who had done it, but he only spanked her harder."

If I saw a movie with a spanking in it, I would fantasize about it when I went to bed that night, imagining that I was the one getting spanked. Any dictionary I came across, I would look up the words spank, spanking, discipline, punishment, whipping, and other related words.

And cartoons - lord, there had to have been some serious spankos making cartoons in the late 70's! Oh, how my stomach would flip flop when the mama beaver put her baby beaver over the log and spanked him with her paddle-like tail! And the time on Tom and Jerry when Tom got caught in the clothesline and it spun him around and around backwards and his bottom kept smacking into a piece of wood that was sticking out... pretty soon his bottom was bright red and throbbing, and I was watching wide-eyed and feeling such strange feelings.

I thought there must be something terribly wrong with me to have such feelings. On the rare occasions that I did get a spanking from one of my parents, I dreaded it. So I couldn't understand the overwhelming feelings of desperately wanting to be spanked that I was having. I was awfully ashamed of these feelings. So much so that I couldn't even make myself say the word "spank" or any form of it. The last time I almost got spanked - I was 9, I think. I had lied about something, and my dad gave me the choice of a spanking or three days with no tv. I wanted to choose the spanking even though I was just in my underwear and a t-shirt and it would have been the first time my dad would have spanked me other than with my jeans on. Not because I enjoyed being spanked by my dad - far from it. I hated to have my dad disappointed enough in me to spank me. But I didn't want to give up tv for three days. I would have chosen the spanking...but I was crying near hysterically even thinking about saying the word. I managed to say "t....v...." in between sobs. My dad must have thought that the idea of a spanking was deeply traumatizing to me because he never spanked me again. He never even suggested it.

Remember the Fisher-Price toys - back when toys were well made? I had the school and the house and the castle. Well.... lots and lots of spanking going on in those buildings! There were kids standing in every available corner of the school house at all times. I had my sister's hand-me-down Barbie dolls, and they were always bare bottom getting spanked. I had a doll house with very posable people and the parents were always sitting in a chair with one of the kids bent over their knee. And I spanked all my stuffed animals. And of course I had all the Star Wars action figures because I was a child of the 70's. Instead of having battles, mine were always bent over getting spanked.

As I grew into a teenager and the action figures, stuffed animals, and other toys started going in boxes in the garage, I had to go back to just my imagination. My parents also started leaving me at home alone sometimes, and so I spent alot more time back in the closet spanking my bare bottom with whatever I could find that hurt. I already thought I was the only person in the world who wanted to be spanked. I was absolutely certain I was the only person in the world who actually spanked themselves.

I was 21 when I first got online on Prodigy (on my DOS based Compaq Deskpro 286 with a 20 meg (yes MEG) hard drive that was supposed to be bigger than anyone would ever need) and did a search for "spanking," not expecting to find anything other than references to child rearing and whether or not you should spank your child. To my surprise (and delight) I found a message board where people were talking about spanking in a way that I thought only existed in my own head.

Then there was Windows and AOL and good old alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.spanking - back when at least 75% of posts were actually spanking pictures. Oh, I spent hours and hours looking at pictures and chatting. It was so amazing to realize that I wasn't the only one. I still wasn't sure that it wasn't terribly abnormal and that I wasn't crazy. I mean, just because you're not alone doesn't make you normal. I still had a whole lot of shame about it that was going to take time to work through.

But those will be stories for other posts.

Spank hard,
Jess