Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
From: an191970@anon.penet.fi (The Poet)
Date: Fri, 28 Jul 1995 10:01:56 UTC
Subject: Doorways (SSC)

Please note that this is the only entry by this author, not to be confused
with the entries by that other guy, recently deceased. I apologize for
writing  something a little - uh, different? It fits my current mood, I
guess. 
SSC -Doorways

In my vision, I see two doorways before me.

The one on the left leads from my house to the street outside, and beyond it
my work and friends and all of the real world.  

The one on the right leads into a secret little room.  Today I choose the
door on the right.

Inside the room is a young girl in a school uniform, white middy blouse and
plaid skirt, short white socks and tennis shoes.  She awaits me beside a
bench, waits for me to pull her across my lap, fling up the skirt, skim the
cotton panties down, and proceed to apply my palm to her round, sweet bottom
until it is bright red from where the curve of the buttocks begins to the top
of each thigh.  Weeping, she does not protest when the spanking ends and I
probe, gently, between the warm cheeks to examine her anus, part her labia,
and  caress her pink, risen bud of pleasure.

Then I exit from the opposite door to the street.

On most days, I choose the door on the left.

On another occasion, however, I choose the door on the right.  This time no
schoolgirl awaits me.  Instead, a tall, mature woman holding a hairbrush
gestures to me to stand before her as she removes my trousers and slides my
underpants to my ankles before pulling me over her knees and  proceeding use
the hairbrush on my naked backside until I am shrieking with anguish and
begging for forgiveness.  The price of full forgiveness includes my kneeling
before her as she lies back, spreading her legs to reveal the nakedness of
her vulva, which I must then mouthe gently until she finds her release.

Once again, I leave and return to the street and the world outside that
secret room.

Some times, in my vision,  the room contains a young boy, or a mother and
daughter, or a roomful of school children to participate in or watch the
proceedings. Those are but visions, at least now. But the reality is that the
room will contain a woman, and the woman, or I, or both of us, will
eventually be naked; and the spanking, or the paddling, or the caning which
takes place will be intense,  and painful, and arousing, and unlike anything
which can be found by choosing the other door.  

Some day, I know, I will leave the room and return to the real world only to
find that the door was ajar, and I have been observed, and the secrets of the
room are now revealed to everyone.   Then many people will descend upon me,
and tear me limb from limb, and leave me dying in the gutter.

The vision of the doors is not a nighttime fantasy.  It is, in most ways,
what I confront every morning when I awake.