A few months ago, I started writing a spanking story based loosely on something that actually happened to me when I was teaching community college. Here’s the opening scene of Chapter 1:

Isa and I spent the last night before the 2023 fall semester together. More precisely, we spent it spanking. Isa, who’s been my girlfriend for almost six months, is only too happy to be spanked. We met through Kinkster, got to know each other at a couple of munches, went on a date, and then I turned her bottom bright-red and sore. I wasn’t Isa’s only partner — she wanted more kinky things than I was into — but I was the only one she was sleeping with.

Isa loves being spanked. She loves it when she comes into my bedroom and stands in front of me, and I undo her pants and pull them and her panties down to her ankles. She kicks them off and then goes over my lap — just bending over my left thigh, since I’m right-handed — and I caress her gorgeous backside before spanking her. I think she’s out of my league, but something keeps her coming back to me, and that’s all I can hope for.

She squirms when I spank her; she squirms, and moans, and gasps, and grabs onto the comforter. I always start by spanking her firmly and slowly, allowing the heat to sink in, turning her light-bronze skin to a blushing pink. In the beginning I’d ask if she was doing okay, but after the third time together she told me: “I’ll use a safeword if I’m not okay. Just spank me.”

So I just spanked her. A lot.

Hand spanking is my favorite thing, bar none. I mean, I’ll use implements too, but what I love is the feel of my palm making contact with a bare bottom. It has been since I was a teenager; I came across some spanking stories on LiveJournals I used to frequent, and something clicked in my head: this is what I want. 

I didn’t get it much in my marriage to Abigail. She allowed me to spank her, but she never really liked it. She also had [relapsing MS] and most of the time she wasn’t fully able to have sex, let alone engage in kinky activities; she’s the one who ended the marriage when she saw how unhappy I was, and although it hurt at the time, it gave me the opportunity to become who I wanted to be.

I had a long relationship shortly after Abigail, with a woman named Tracy. In the beginning there was a lot of spanking — and a lot of sex, too — but over time Tracy grew distant. I never really figured out why, but I think it came down to when we tried to do the DD/lg thing, and once I became her Daddy I stopped being the person I was before. Tracy and I were together for six years, and since then I’ve had relationships on and off, but other than my friend Kristine, who I visit twice a year in Massachusetts, there hadn’t been anything serious.

Not until Isa.

Did I love Isa? I didn’t know. But I certainly loved what we did together, and the night before I had to start work that fall semester I spanked her bare bottom with my hand until it was red and hot, until she was yelping with each hard smack, until finally I couldn’t take it anymore and I slid out from underneath her. She knew what I wanted after that; I knelt down, and she turned over, and I buried my face between her thighs until she came hard for me.

Later, after we fucked, after I threw away the condom and she went to the bathroom, we cuddled in bed together, on top of the covers. “Fuck,” she said, her accent making the word sound exotic — her full name was Ana Isabella Rodriguez, she was thirty-seven, and her first language was Spanish. “Fuck, that was hot.”

“You’re hot,” I said, still a little dazed. I kissed the top of her head and she squeezed me tight. “Are you sure you can’t sleep over?”

Isa shook her head. “I have to get up early for work. You know that.”

“I do, but I like it when you sleep with me.”

“I like it too, Eric.” She sighed softly. “Maybe someday we can make that happen, but that day is not today. It’s too soon.”

“I know, and I agree.” Six months wasn’t enough time to decide if we should move in together. “But we can have a sleepover on Friday night?”

“Of course we can.”

“Good.”