From: SFPo8@aol.com
Subject: How Does That Feel?

How Does That Feel?


OWWWWWW!

The paddle lands again, right on the part of my bottom that is sorest.  I try
to be brave, but I can feel the tears coming.

"How does that feel?" asks my aunt.

What am I supposed to say?  My aunt always talks to me while she spanks me,
but most of the time she doesn't ask questions.  She just says things like,
"This is what naughty boys like you deserve!" And then I know the next smack
is just seconds away. 

Sometimes, like a few minutes ago, she asks stuff like, "Do you know why you
deserve the spanking you're going to get?" 

That's a real question, and I have to answer it.  I better answer!  I said,
"Because I lied to you."  

But giving the right answer doesn't help any.  "That's right," my aunt said.
 "You are a little liar, and you know about 'liar, liar, pants on fire?'
Well, first I am going to take those pants down, and then I'm going to set
your bottom on fire." And, indeed, she unbuckled my belt , slipped down my
pants and undershorts together, and  pulled me over her lap before I coukd
say anything more. And then the spanking began.  It hurt from the first
smack, and that was a  dozen smacks ago. 

She started with the paddle right away.  She bought it last summer, when we
were on a trip to Niagara Falls.  It was in one of those shops with junk for
tourists, you know?  About a foot long, made of yellow wood, with "Board of
Education" printed on it.  Really funny. The guy that wrote that should get
an education. OH, OWWWW! 

"How does that feel?" she asks again.

"It hurts . .. . oh, it really hurts . . ." I answer.  What am I supposed to
say?

"Well, this is just the beginning," says my aunt.  It's going to hurt a lot
worse before I finish."

I knew she'd say something like that.  

See, if she'd just give me the spanking . . . OWWW . . . it would be over
quicker  . . . OUCH!  . . . but talking to me like that  . . . OHHHH!  means
she has to take time between spanks, and that means each spank  . . .AHHRRRH!
. . . hurts more. 

"I guess you think you're pretty smart, don't you?" she says.

What do I say now? She's waiting.  Maybe she will stop if I say the right
thing.

"No . . . Aunt Hilda . . . I don't think I'm smart . . .if I was I wouldn't
be getting spanked."  Is that what I was supposed to say?

SMACK!!! "Then you better get smart . . . SMACK!! . . .and fast . .
 .SMACK!!! . . .smart enough to learn not to lie to your elders." Smack!!!
Smack!!!! WHAPPP!!

My bottom is really on fire now.  I can feel parts on each side which are
especially sore from being spanked several times exactly on the same spot,
but almost all of my bottom is beginning to feel the effects of the five
minutes of spanking which have now taken place.

"Do you think you have learned your lesson?" Aunt Hilda says.

"Oh, yes, I have . . . I am really sorry." Please, please, was that what she
wanted me to say?

WHAPP! "Well I don't think so . . .WHAPP!  And if you think so . . . Smack!!!
you have another think coming.  SMACKKK!   And a lot more spanking coming,
too."  SMACK!  WHACK!  WHAMM!  Now a whole series of spanks descends on my
bottom, and I begin to twist from side to side, to no avail at all. How long
will it go on? What am I supposed to do, or say, to make her stop?

The spanking continues another minute, faster now, spank after spank
alternating on opposite sides of my bottom, and then a whole bunch right
across the crack. Then a pause. The, right where the curve of my behind is,
right where it is so sore now: ten, sharp, burning, smacks which would make
me jump right off her lap if whe weren't holding me. 
 
"Well, young man, that is one really red bottom!  I bet you won't forget this
spanking for a long time!  And you won't lie to me, ever again, will you?"

At last . . . there's no way I can answer that question wrong . . . all I
have to say is:

"No, Aunt Hilda.  I won't forget it.  I won't lie to you ever again.  I
promise. I really promise. I'll never, never lie to you again."  Well, that
should satisfy her.

"Good," says Aunt Hilda. "I'm glad you feel that way.  And since you want to
be sure, absolutely sure, to remember this lesson, I am going to make sure
you can't possibly forget."  And with that, I feel the paddle land across
both sides of my bottom even harder than before! 

'OH, OWWW!  Aunt Hil ... Oww! Aunt Hilda, I, OHH!, I promised, I promised
OUCH !!! I won't ever OWWW!  OH, NOOOO! Please,  don't OHHH! spank me OWWW!
OUCHH! any more, I, OWWWW!  OWWW! No, I don't OOOWWW! please, not on the
OHHHH! OWWWW AHRRRR!  my bottom AHHHH! OWWW. AHRRRRH! OHHHHHH, OWWWWW,
OWWWWWWWW!!!!

All I can do now is sob.  Just when I think the spanking was over, it gets
worse and worse, and that paddle covers every inch of my burning skin, and
there isjust nothing left for me to do but howl.  I can't think. I can't
speak.  There is just my burning bottom, and that paddle landing, and my own
cries echoing in my head.  

And then it stops, and my mind comes under my own control again, and I find I
am breathing hard, tears running down my cheeks, and still lying there,
feeling the pain, feeling that maybe . . . maybe? Maybe it is over, finally?

"Well, young man," says Aunt Hilda, "how does that feel?"

Oh, God!