Author: Jack Crawford Title: How It All Began Summary: The Author recounts how he was introduced to spanking at age 14 by a neighbor lady who not only spanked, but teased him sexually. Keywords: dom, FM, humil, fd, spank, exhib <!--ADULTSONLY--> Copyright: 2010 Hormones in overdrive when I was 14 years old pushed me into the wild, wacky, wonderful world of erotic spanking. Notice the special designation of "erotic" spanking. As a child, my parents regularly punished me, my brother, and sisters with spankings. Mom always used her hand, but when we were too big for her to be effective, Dad took over with his belt. Neither parent was ever cruel, or excessively harsh, but they got their point across and we paid attention. The parental spankings were not, and are not, a source of fascination or interest to me. They were simply my parents' way of meting the responsibility of raising their children to be responsible, law abiding, adults. My encounter with Mrs. Sebring was another matter entirely. It set the stage for my later fascination with spankings, particularly for the spanking ritual itself. No matter how effective the actual swats may be, a spanking is not a good spanking to me, unless it contains all of the ritualistic elements associated with this first erotic spanking. Oh, it hurt like hell and it did not lead to sex, per se, but it was wildly erotic none the less. When I was 14, we lived in Arizona and the big vacation attraction was to go to Disneyland and that is what the Sebring family had planned. They lived only two doors down from us, and asked me to take care of their yard and to feed and walk their dog. This was an easy job for a few quick dollars and nothing could have been simpler or easier. There were, however, two big mistakes that happened after they left in the family car for Disneyland. Mistake #1 was that the Sebrings gave me a key to their home so that I could adequately care or their dog. I would start the sprinkler at one end of the yard, put the leash on the dog, take him for a walk, move the sprinkler to another area, feed the dog and wait to move the sprinkler again. Waiting to move the water was boring and my youthful curiosity came to the fore. Having free access to the house, I began to snoop around. Mrs. Sebring was a pretty attractive woman, about 33 or 34 years old, "ancient" to a 14 year old, but having been a dancer before she got married, she still had a dancer's body. And, I noticed it. Eventually, actually pretty damn quickly, my snooping took me to the master bedroom where I rummaged through the closet and Mrs. Sebring's underwear drawer. There were some pretty exciting things in that drawer that were terribly soft and silky. But, then I hit the jackpot. Deep in a bottom drawer, under a tangled mass of lingerie was a gold cardboard box. In it were photographs of Mrs. Sebring in various states of undress ... most of which were completely and utterly naked. What a find! I would feed and walk the dog three or four times a day after that discovery, just to make a beeline for the bedroom and those pictures. You can imagine that it didn't take long for a 14 year old boy to have those photos spread out all across the bed and begin playing with myself. But, I mentioned two mistakes. The second one came as a result of a Sebring family crisis. Some Aunt in Ohio died just before the Sebrings left for California and Mrs. Sebring did not make the trip with the family. She went instead to the funeral in Ohio and then returned to Arizona. Not having a car (it, of course, was in California) she returned home by taxi. Not knowing she had returned, I went through the usual ritual of taking care of the dog and the lawn, then having fun in the bedroom with those wonderfully naughty photos. Mrs. Sebring apparently did not hear me enter the house and was in the bathroom drying off after a shower. I had not heard the shower running and still did not know she was home when I snatched the gold photo box and spread out the pictures across the bedspread. My cutoffs and undershorts were down around my ankles and I was furiously pumping my organ (it would not be quite accurate to refer to it as my "manhood".) Mrs. Sebring opened the bathroom door and entered the bedroom stark naked. To this day, I am not certain who was the most startled. Like deer mesmerized by the headlights of an onrushing car, we both stood frozen, staring at each other in our nakedness. She suddenly retreated to the bathroom to cover herself with a towel as I rushed to pull up my pants and run. She caught up with me as I was trying to make my escape through the kitchen door. "Jackie!" she yelled, "Don't you dare leave this house!" She was incredibly angry and the edge in her voice caused me to shiver involuntarily. I stopped and slowly turned, but she roughly grabbed my upper arm and marched me back to the bedroom. Pushing me towards the bed she demand, "Just what in the hell is THIS!?!" I stuttered and stammered, unable to speak not only knowing that I was caught red handed, but because she stood in a threatening pose, hands on her hips, but clad only in a damp towel that she had hastily used to cover herself. I didn't know where to look - certainly not at the damning photos on the bed and as much as I wanted to glimpse a peek at "the real thing" standing so close to me, I could not muster the courage. Sensing this, she put her index finger under my chin and raised my head so I had to look her in the eyes. What I saw was steaming rage. "Well?" she demanded, "Can't you explain this horrid behavior?" I shook my head very weakly as tears began to well. I had never felt, and have never felt to this day, as guilty as I did at that moment. All I could do was whisper out a choked "I'm sorry." "We'll see how sorry you are young man," she fumed, "after I tell your parents about how I found you in this room!" My eyes opened wide and the tears really started to flow. This was too humiliating to truly comprehend. "You pick up this room this instant, and put everything back into its place. I am certain you remember where you took everything from!" She turned and began to pull clothes from the dresser drawers. "I am going to get dressed so we can discuss your behavior with your parents, Jackie. This room had better be put back into order when I come back in!" She stormed back into the bathroom to change and I hurried to pick up the pictures and to put them back. Tell my parents? They would kill me! I started to panic all over again. If they found out, I would be soundly punished, but worse than that, my sister would find out and eventually know why I was getting spanked. Then all her friends would know, then the entire city. Everyone would know I was jerking off in the neighbor's house and got spanked for it. Having put the room back in order, I stood outside the bathroom door, found my voice and although it was rather weak, tried to apologize. "Mrs. Sebring, I really am sorry. I just got carried away. I know it was bad to go snooping through your things and I am sorry." Choking back another rush of humiliation and tears I pleaded with her, "Please, Mrs. Sebring, please don't tell my parents. I'll make it up to you! I took care of the yard real good and your dog has been well cared for ... you don't have to pay me! Please don't tell anyone." I was startled as the door opened and she stood glaring at me, still highly incensed. "Please!!" I pleaded again, "Please don't say anything!" And the tears began to well again. Somewhat calm now, Mrs. Sebring stepped back into the bedroom. "Jackie, you abused the responsibility I gave you, and you invaded my privacy. You rummaged through my drawers and lord knows what else, "I tried to interrupt to tell her I did not go through anything else, but she held her hand up and glared at me. "Don't try to deny it, because I won't believe you. I have no reason to believe you." I simply hung my head in shame, knowing full well I was doomed. "On top of all that, you treat my home like a private peep show, spying on me," her furious glare stopped cold another attempted protest from me, "Seeing me naked. NAKED! And, of course there is the matter of YOU standing here in my bedroom, exposed and masturbating. Playing with yourself while looking at me naked!" The furious rage had returned. "And now, you want me to forget the whole thing!" "NO!" I protested urgently, "I told you I would make it up to you! Please just don't tell my parents ... they'll kill me." Begging had never been a strong suit for me, but I was highly motivated at that moment. More quietly, I pleaded again, "Please just keep this between us. I will do chores for you, whatever you want! I really, REALLY, am sorry. It'll never happen again." I almost sank to my knees pleading with her, "Please don't tell my parents." Mrs. Sebring let me stew for a few minutes as she contemplated her options. Looking back on it, she must have been considering the possibility of my telling someone else about the particular pictures I had seen. I fidgeted from foot to foot, hoping that she would let me go, then knowing that she wouldn't. Praying that she would say nothing to my parents, then knowing certainly that she would. My hopes and fears caused both guilt and shame to crest higher with every recurrence of the cycle. She now regarded me closely, using her finger to once again raise my face to look my in the eyes. "Jackie, you know you have been very bad. Wicked, in fact, and you deserve to be punished. You know that don't you?" "Yes ma'am," I answered, "But, please can't we leave my parents out of this?" She nodded slowly. "Perhaps," she answered pensively, "but that depends on you. First, I will agree to keep this between the two of us only on your acceptance of two conditions." "Okay!" I readily agreed, "whatever you say." I was beginning to have real hope, I was going to get out of this! "Not so fast, young man!" Her admonishment continued, "you don't know the conditions. First, you have to keep your mouth shut. You tell no one what has or will happen and I will tell no one. Do you understand?" "Yes, of course! It is too embarrassing to tell anyone," I promised. "Very well," she agreed, "But know that if I even suspect that you are thinking of saying a word about anything to anyone, you will be in deep, deep trouble." I nodded my understanding as she continued. "Then there is the little matter of being punished." Alarms went off in my mind, "Punished?" I asked, "I thought you said you wouldn't tell anyone?" "I did, but you yourself said you knew what you did was wrong and I know it is a fact that your parents would tan your hide good if they found out about your behavior." She paused letting that remark sink in. How does she know I get spanked by Mom and Dad, I wondered? "You can't get off scott free. Your behavior warrants a sound spanking and you may choose whether your parents take care of that need or if I do. You may make that choice." A million things raced through my mind, but two dominant thoughts surfaced. One, my mother did not spank nearly as hard as my dad, so therefor, Mrs. Sebring could not spank as hard as he does. Two, the humiliation and embarrassment would be too much to take if they found out. My sister would find out, then blab it all over town. There was only one choice and as difficult as it was to say aloud, it didn't take long to make the decision. "Mrs. Sebring, please keep this between us. I'll take my punishment from you." I should have known that it would not be so easy. She began an interrogation, to get me to ask for my punishment. What she forced me to ask was mortifying in its own right. "Jackie, how should you be punished?" I felt my face flush hotly as I stammered out, "That's up to you, Mrs. Sebring." "No, it is not entirely up to me, young man." Her finger kept my chin pointing up so that I had to look directly at her. "You will tell me how you deserve to be punished or I will let your parents decide." Stammering, I answered, "Y - Y- You should spank me, Mrs. Sebring." She waited patiently for me to continue. "Uh, just like my mom would." Her eyebrow arched inquisitively, demanding a more detailed explanation. "Y - You should spank me on my b-b-bare b-bottom." "Ask me to spank you," she demanded, "and you had better be very specific, because I am tired of playing games with you." In my most humble voice I urged this woman to soundly punish me. At once I was relieved that my parents would not be informed, was humiliated at having to ask for a juvenile punishment, and was also excited by the proximity of this woman who I had seen naked in both pictures and in person! Her long dancer's legs beckoned to me as they emerged from the khaki short shorts that she was fond of wearing. "Mrs.Sebring, I am very sorry for what I did. P-P-Please spank me on the b-bare b-b-bottom until it is red and sore and I'll remember what I did when I sit down." Fortunately, I could still remember the basic phrase my mother used just prior to spanking me. It seemed to please Mrs. Sebring. "Very well, Jackie," she said as she let my chin fall to my chest. "Understand that you have earned a very sound spanking and that you will receive one." Yet again, she grasped my upper arm and propelled me from the bedroom. She whisked me down the hall, through the family room and into the kitchen. There, she locked the back door and ordered me out of my cutoffs. "But, Mrs. Sebring, somebody might see," I complained. There were cafe curtains only in the kitchen and anyone walking up to the carport could see directly into the kitchen. "Then you better be quick about it before some does come up and I ask them to help me spank you." Her firm voice indicated a strong resolve as she stood with her arms crossed, impatiently waiting for me to comply. The determination in her face wilted my concerns and I removed my sandals and dropped my cutoffs. I was now standing before her in her kitchen in just a Tee shirt and my undershorts. Pulling a chair out from the breakfast table, Mrs. Sebring placed her left foot on the seat of the chair and dragged me up and over her left thigh as she announced, "Young man, it's bottoms up time!". My toes could barely touch the floor as I balanced precariously over her thigh and grasped the back of the chair for stability. I had not yet arranged a stable position when she suddenly let loose a flurry of stinging spanks alternately targeted at either bottom cheek. 20 or so swats quickly warmed my upraised behind and I managed to take them with good grace. She paused and began the inevitable lecture. "This spanking is for abusing the responsibility I gave you by giving you the keys to the house. You had absolutely no need to wander about my home! You sorely deserve what you are about to get, young man, and I want you to think about your irresponsible behavior as I spank some sense into your backside!" So saying, she seized the bottom of my shorts and yanked them up between my ass cheeks, giving me the wedgie of all time. My bottom, still perilously poised atop her leg, was now effectively bared, but with my underwear pulled snugly between my cheeks I felt, somehow, more exposed than if my lower half was totally bared. Mrs. Sebring's hand began a quick, furious pace of spanks, similar to the first dose, but by smacking bare skin the sharpness of the spanks seemed increased five fold. Not only did the spanks hurt more, but they were incredibly louder. I wriggled as much as I could without much leverage, but it did little to ease the sharpness of the swats and she did not seem to notice. Could she be looking for a reaction to her spanking? "OW! OUCH!!" I cried out. "Please stop, Mrs. Sebring, you're really hurting me!" "That's the point, young man," she answered with another flurry of stinging swats. "Please stop!" My begging continued, "Someone could come by and see me like this. Please give me a break!" She didn't stop and my anxiety over being so visible from the kitchen soared. Suddenly she stopped, pushed me off my roost and, I was really beginning to hate this, grasped my upper arm and marched me into the family room ordering me to stand with my nose in the corner. "Keep your hands by your side, Jackie, no rubbing!" she warned, "Or we'll go back into the kitchen and I'll spank you until somebody does show up to witness your spanking." I stood stock still with my nose firmly pressed into the corner. I could feel the cool breeze of the air conditioner against my recently inflamed bottom skin. "You know what that spanking was for," she reminded me. "Your next spanking ..." Next spanking? "... will be for your wicked behavior in my bedroom. Honestly! How can a boy just start snooping around a neighbors most private room, through her drawers and THEN have the gall to stand at my bedside and MASTURBATE!" That terribly guilty feeling rose once again and I began to feel as if I truly deserved the spanking I had just received. I felt awful. She added, "I am going to check the condition of my bedspread. You had better hope you cleaned up your little messes. I can only imagine how many times you did that dirty, little act. You better hope and pray that you were at least neat about that mess!" One saving grace for Jack, I thought. Every time I had pulled out the photos and my own private part, I had the sense to bring in a couple of paper towels to avoid soiling the bed. "While I am gone, you had better not move a muscle." Mrs. Sebring continued her lecture, the outrage in her voice cutting me to the core, "You had better be thinking about the wicked acts that have warranted your next spanking." She left the room and I was alone in the corner for probably 10 or 15 minutes before she returned. Unfortunately, I could not keep my mind from wandering. I thought of the nude pictures of Mrs. Sebring, seeing her actually and totally naked, the proximity of her naked thigh as she spanked me, even the spanking she gave me turned into a more sensuous stroking of my exposed bottom flesh. I say unfortunately, because it, quite naturally, created a certain excitement that began to press into the corner just as my nose was. Then, Mrs. Sebring broke my reverie by clenching my upper arm yet again (I was really beginning to hate that!), yanking me from the corner and escorted me over to the sofa. "Remove your shorts, Jackie," was her simple command as she sat down on the sofa. Of course, in my current state of arousal, I did not want to do any such thing, not that my arousal couldn't be noted through my shorts, but my face colored and my hands refused to move. As I hesitated, she crossed her arms and gave me a withering look that convinced me to comply and stop stalling. I turned away from her and lowered my shorts, kicking them away from my ankles. "Turn around, Jackie." I shuddered in shame as I slowly turned to face her, my hands desperately trying to cover my excitement. "Hands to your side, Jackie," she commanded, "You saw mine, now I am going to see yours." My face flushed even more hotly as I lowered my hands and results of my wandering imagination sprang into full view. I stared at the ceiling, unable to look at her or down towards the floor where I would see the source of my degradation. She chuckled and added, "I guess you were thinking about your misdeeds. Well," she laughed again, "I guess it is only natural that you would have that reaction, but I know just how to take care of that!" Standing, she grabbed my arm and marched me into her bedroom. "Lie down on the bed," she ordered. I was only too happy to comply, laying on the bed face down hid my embarrassing condition. She pulled out a pair of pillows and made me place them under my hips so that my bottom was thrust up and more accessible to the punishment she was about to inflict. She closed the bedroom door and that's when I noticed the leather strap that was hanging from a hook on the back of the door. My eyes widened at the sight of the strap. I had heard from her son, Glen, about how awful that strap was when it was used on him. Noticing my reaction, Mrs Sebring said, "When Glen is very naughty I have to use this strap on him in much the same manner you are going to get it. He hates it, but it works wonders with his attitude and I am certain it will be effective with you, too." She laid the wide leather strap in front of my face so that I could see it and even smell the leather. I heard her open a dresser drawer, then close it. Propping myself up on my elbows, I turned to peek at what she was doing when she placed in front of me the gold cardboard box that contained those wonderful pictures of her. She shook the box, teasing me with its contents, then she did the unexpected. She spilled the contents onto the bed in front of my face. The photos were scattered about in front of me, her lewdly posed images staring back at me confirming my shame. Involuntarily, I ground my pelvis into the pillows. "Okay, Jackie, I want to be certain you understand why you are being spanked, so this is what we are going to do." Her voice, in fact her whole temperament, had slightly changed from one of severe indignation to slight amusement. "I want you to neatly stack those photos and look at the top picture. Then, I am going to give you one stroke with this strap and you may put just the top picture into the box. We will repeat the process until all the pictures are put back. Do you understand?" "But there are 27 pictures here!" I protested. WHACK!! I had not noticed that she had already taken the strap and she gave me a nasty cut across both cheeks with the wide leather band. I jerked up involuntarily and moaned. "Young man, you really do not want to upset me anymore than I already am, so answer the questions and don't say anything more that would lead me to believe you really, really studied that box of pictures." "Yes, ma'am!" I answered urgently, "I understand. God! Than hurt!" "And it doesn't count, so get a good look at that photo on top, because it is the last time you will ever see it! And, you had better be thinking that it is the last time you will try to pull a stunt like sneaking into someone's private affairs ever again!" With that little bit of lecture, I heard the rushing of air just before that nasty strap bit angrily into my already sore backside. WHACK!! My sole focus was to comply with her instructions and make the ordeal as easy as possible. I had already earned one extra stroke and I did not want any more than I absolutely had to take, so I quickly tossed the top photo back into the box and prepared to take the next stroke. "Open your eyes, Jackie," she insisted. "I want you to see what is getting you into all this trouble." I obeyed and hungrily eyed the alluringly posed nude body of my tormentor. WHACK!! Another harsh stroke caused me to writhe over the pillows and I struggled to place the photo into box. The next photo was one of my favorites, it really didn't show much, but the look on Mrs. Sebring's face in this particular picture was especially inviting and the body positioning was full of untold promises. SNAP!! The leather strap curled around my hip and bit into a side of my bottom that had been untouched as yet. "OOHH!!" I moaned, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please take it easy!" She said nothing and waited for me to put that photo into the box. WHACK!! Another angry welt began to grow across my backside as the process was repeated. And repeated, and repeated. We slowly worked through the pile of photographs. My behind was blazing and my eyes began to fill with tears. I remember blubbering and begging her to go easy on me, but she simply reminded me of our agreement. I could stop now and she would simply inform my parents. "How many more strokes?" I would think as I looked at the dwindling pile of pictures in my hand, each time believing I could hold on till the end, yet questioning my resolve when the next angry snap of the leather perforated my desire to keep this whole thing quiet. What finally made me stick it out through the whole strapping was the realization that, not only would my behavior be discovered and I would be punished by my parents, but that my sister would find out and everyone would know not only about my snooping and my parents' eventually spanking me, but that Mrs. Sebring had also spanked me! That was too much and I held out to the end. And, in the end the photos themselves helped me maintain position by keeping me in a constant state of excitement. No, nothing happened during the strapping, but later when I got home and rubbed hand lotion into my flaming cheeks the sexual tension roared for attention. I relieved that tension on my own and many times later when the memory of the experience emerged. Nothing was ever said about what happened, No one found out, Mrs. Sebring never brought up the subject and I never told anyone that knew both of us. In fact, I have told very few people about what happened. The pain was memorable, but the intensity of it diminished over time. The sexual awakening was just the beginning and to this day, I still associate sexual feelings with the threat of a good, hard spanking. And, those feelings are even more intense when a spanking is actually given.