firsttime

First Time

SPANKING MEMORIES

True real life spanking incidents involving the author. In the later chapters most of the victims are more than willing, however the earlier chapters contain accounts of punishments inflicted on unwilling youngsters by adults or other boys.

CHAPTER ONE

I got my arse slapped a few times when I was a kid, both my parents approved of corporal punishment but they both believed it should be administered swiftly. Usually hand, large plastic mixing spoon or occasionally slipper was applied directly to my backside regardless of my state of dress at the time. Consequently it was not a good idea to misbehave while dressed in pyjamas and ready for bed, and it was certainly not a good idea to misbehave at bath time.

There were some variations, my mother was fond of using the plastic spoon on the legs of a boy wearing shorts. My father on the other hand would sometimes order that trousers and underpants be removed if I was to be slippered for a serious breach.

To be honest I can’t recall anything pleasant or erotic about these beatings, I do not even remember the details of any particular occasion.

Punishments at home tailed off by the time I went to secondary school at the age of eleven. The school I attended (early seventies) still used corporal punishment and I found myself on the receiving end a few times, mostly I got the slipper, this seemed to be the preferred instrument of most teachers, the headmaster used the cane and the deputy headmaster used the paddle.

Once again I experienced nothing but pain and anguish before, during and after these punishments.

I should mention at this stage that I had already realised that I was a little different to some of the other boys. I had no interest in girls whatsoever with their make-up, perfume, floppy tits and frilly knickers. No, my system had already decided it liked boys, I had no choice in the matter, my young cock came up at the thought of firm smooth chests, flat stomachs and hard dicks sprouting above small tight balls from lightly haired groins. I also had a thing for boys’ underpants, I knew the brands and colours worn by all my mates and their brothers. I had begun to amass a collection courtesy of the dirty laundry baskets during visits to my mates houses.

I had already had the chance to play about a bit during Scout camps, six boys in a tent all wanking themselves silly did it for me. Cocks, cocks, and more cocks that’s what I was into. Scout camps were also a great chance to add to the underpants collection.

Then came the turning point, I was nearly fifteen, it was Friday afternoon, and it was pissing down with rain. My class and another were scheduled for games.

Mr Latimer (the gamesmaster) announced that we would play rugby as planned despite the weather. As a result twenty six (not even enough for full teams) boys trudged out to the field. There had always been a strong element of rivalry between the two classes and given the fact that all of us would have preferred to be in the gym it is not surprising that the match started out rough and escalated.

Within ten minutes there was punching, kicking and stamping in the scrum and the whole thing turned into one enormous punch up. By the time the Mr Latimer managed to regain control we were all soaked to the skin and covered from head to foot in mud. A few of us had bloody noses but there were no broken bones.

We were marched straight back to the changing rooms, the match was abandoned. We were lectured on our appalling and disgraceful sportsmanship and told that we would have extra math’s and history exams instead of sport for the next month.

By this time we were all shivering with the cold, Mr Latimer told us to strip and head for the showers, He continued his lecture as we stripped finishing of by telling us that he intended to slipper each of us as we made our way to the showers. Each of us in turn had to bend over grab our ankles and cop three hard whacks with a very worn size eleven plimsoll.

I was fourth I think and as I bent over all I could think of was the sight of the three bottoms that had bent over before me, although it was all happening very quickly I’m fairly certain that this was the precise moment that I became to see boys’ bottoms and corporal punishment as very horny indeed. Then Mr Latimer’s size eleven slammed into my arse, reality had fully returned by the third stroke and I jumped up and ran to the showers.

The showers filled quickly and our punishment was the only topic of conversation, red bottoms were inspected and young cocks became hard, well mine did and to avoid embarrassment I was first to leave the showers. Mr Latimer had a little surprise waiting for us, another three with the size eleven. I bent over and got mine, grabbed my towel to cover my hard on and ran to my peg from where I had an almost perfect view of the other boys as they all got their second lot of whacks.

I had my underpants and trousers on real quick to hide my hard cock. I noticed other boys in various stages of erection but each was rapidly hidden away by its owner which also hid away all those well spanked bums.

What did I do next?

I ran home, stripped in front of the mirror and wanked off looking at my red arse, I wanked at least six times that night, each time my thoughts changed slightly, I started simply reliving the events in the changing room, then my thoughts focused on particular boys, boys that I found attractive. I started to imagine that I was the spanker, in charge wielding the slipper.