From: sfpo8@aol.com (SFPo8)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
Subject: The First Time
Date: 8 Jul 1996 12:35:20 -0400


I wrote this for the short story contest last summer and have sent it to a
couple of newbies when they posted their first stories here.

"The First Time"

She had been thinking of this moment, now upon her, all her life. 

As a little girl of seven, lying in bed, she had imagined being spanked by
an older man, her absent father's age,  who would gently pull down her
little blue cotton panties, position her across his lap, and spank her
bottom with his big hand until it was red and warm.  As she imagined this
scene, for reasons not understood, her hand went between her legs, and
rubbed there, until there was a moment of intense feeling, and then
relief, and then sleep.

As a girl of ten, she had sneaked into the basement  with Bobby and
induced him to play a spanking game with her, a game interrupted by
footsteps overhead, after he had made her pull out his small but erect
penis and fondle it but before she could be "punished" by him with the
spanking he had promised.

As a girl of thirteen, her breasts now budding, she knew enough to locate,
with a hand mirror, her inner labia and clitoris and to gently stimulate
them with her fingers as she imagined Mr. Bradford, her physics teacher,
paddling her in front of the class, a paddling only in her mind, every
week or so, in the privacy of the bathroom.

As a college student of 19, after five years of back-seat fondling of,
learning how to use her fingers on immature boys as on herself, and her
mouth to perform the act which every boy begged of her, she finally
overcame the instinct to pull away before the spray of warm, salt fluid
filled her mouth; and now she was ready for the first insertion of a male
body into hers; yet what she wanted, and dared not say, was for that male
to first up-end her and bring her bottom to fire with a sound spanking. 
She feared the response to such a request, and so, instead, lay there, and
felt the thrust of him within her, and enjoyed the familiar sensations in
her pussy, wanting more, not knowing how to find it. 

Now, at 24, it was time.  The choice she desired all her life was upon
her.  Those years of dreaming of the ritual, of the dress pulled up,  the
panties dropped to the floor, bending across the knees of an imposing
male, the first slaps to the bared bottom, warming the flesh, the buildup
in tempo until the entire backside was red and burning, and then the
tightness in the belly as he reached for the hairbrush; now, now, all
these imaginings, all these fantasies, dreams, hoarded pictures, passages
in books which  moistened her cunt, all led to this ultimate moment, from
which, she knew, she could never turn back. 

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the keyboard and began to write her
first spanking story.


Hal