First time -- and why the dress code is so important to me.

It is now 27 years ago that I officially began an actual life of spanking, a very fortunate experience that helped shape the person I am. At that point in my life I was very confused with my thoughts of spanking, certainly the beatings I suffered as a child were no source whatsoever to fuel those desires, and still I was fascinated by the whole thing.When you suffer at the hands of someone else for so long you develop a certain sense of survival skills, skills that aren’t measurable, but skills that nonetheless protect you from the outside world and the capability to form functioning relationships. The first time I ever trusted a girl to let her become my girlfriend wasn’t until I was 16 years old, that’s right, I had never sought to form a relationship with a girl until I was 16. Most of that came from the fact that I never wanted to subject anyone to my life, the fact that I spent every day of my life in fear, wondering whether this was going to be a good day, or a bad day.Being that I began to work in the later months of my 15th year, and now at 16 working full time, it gave me new kinds of freedom that I had yet to experience. The institutionalized fear was still there, it had always been there so it was going to take many years to break the cycle of being mentally controlled, I would even go as far as to say that even at 43 years old there are still aspects that affect me when forming relationships. The defense mechanism that has always been present to prevent myself from getting hurt, it probably isn’t always a good thing; however it allows me to maintain control of myself and my own destiny.When I started to work I formed a relationship with this girl who like myself, had had a very rough time growing up. She was also 16 and like most young people from council estates back in England at that time (1979) she was economically forced to earn her own keep and contribute as a financial source to the family. We actually hit it off really well and were very soon doing all the flirtatious teasing and immature things that young people do. Being that both of us were not in a position of wanting to introduce each other to the hidden aspects of our lives, we would spend our time hanging out in secluded areas. Sitting in parks at night, finding spots in vast fielded areas where we could hide and fool around, petting and groping and even just laying there snuggled up together.

A big part of the fooling around of course was my swatting her butt at every opportunity I had, there had never been any nudity up until that point other than hands going through clothing during the make out sessions, a blue ball nightmare if you ask me, lol. Still, any spanks that were landed were on her jeans, her skirt, her slacks, pretty much whatever she was wearing on any given day. She only ever put up token resistance and every time it happened it was always accompanied by roars of laughter and fun. The very first time that changed, and the image that I always associate with spanking, happened one day at her Mum’s house.

This was the first time that I had ever been in her Mum’s house and even to this day I don’t recall where her Mum was that day. All I do remember is that she had invited me to come to her house after work as we would be able to have a couple of hours inside a house for once, instead of sitting in a park or a secluded field. We rode our bikes the two miles or so and entered her house through the backyard, in hindsight this was perhaps because she didn’t want any nosy neighbours catching her bringing a boy home and then having to explain that to her Mum. In no time at all the two of us were laying on the couch making out, my hormones raging as I held one hand onto the back of her head and the other grasping her bottom underneath her skirt.

The petting was hot and heavy and my mind was only in one place, was this going to be the first time we went all the way? At some point in the proceeding she literally had to push me off her as she made some excuse about getting a drink, at my age now I completely understand that she was probably fighting the urge just as hard as I was, and in her situation being that it was her Mum’s house I don’t blame her for one minute. So yet again I was left with the complete frustration that all teens go through as I waited patiently for her to return. When she returned, instead of sitting next to me she sat on the edge of the couch that we were making out on.

I was like a rampant bull though, watching her sit there flustered and sipping at a glass of water I edged myself over to where she was. There was nothing stopping my desire to continue with our make out session though, and very soon my hands were all over this girl who had suddenly turned into the ice queen. I’m not sure if it was her teasing, or whether or not she just knew that she shouldn’t carry on, but all of my advances were being rejected completely. The next thing she did is the one that has plagued my mind for 27 years though, it was the thing that set in motion my real life experiences in the spanking world and forms an image that I always want to seem to create.

As my amorous self continued to try and persuade my prey, something bratty came into her mind, it seemed obvious that she felt I needed cooling down a bit and she poured a decent amount of water over my head. At first I was stunned until she let out a rapturous laugh, and then I didn’t even stop to think about what I was going to do. I unceremoniously hauled her off the arm of the couch and straight across my lap, the glass holding the remains of the water flying across the floor. Now I had never done anything like this before with her, everything that we had done had been with disheveled clothing, but this time without even thinking I immediately raised her short skirt in a flash.

My eyes bulged; there beneath me is this squirming girl whose bottom is covered by these flimsy white nylon panties and a hand that is furiously working to either pull down her skirt, or to stop my hand descending upon her bottom by trying to cover it, even perhaps just trying to maintain a little dignity and not allow me to stare at her uncovered rear. Now I obviously knew that what she was wearing was of some type of silky material as my hand had been groping it for 20 minutes or so, but this was the first time that I got to see her whole bottom in all it’s glory, anything prior to that had been quick little glimpses and peeks of her bra, her undies, her thigh, this was actually the first time that I had seen her lower half completely uncovered, save for her panties of course.

Now that I have had many experiences in the spanking world I realize that what I did next would not be an acceptable practice, but I was only 16 years old at the time and didn’t know any better. I raised my hand and brought it down onto her bottom and continued spanking the seat of her panties until she was able to push herself off of me, perhaps only a total of 20 smacks before she hit the floor. God if I only knew then what I knew now as she screamed at me “You arsehole”, then looked at the floor and said in a frightened tone “Look at this mess”

It was like the spanking never took place as we scampered to get paper towels to clean up the water. I’m sure at some point soon the water would have just dried, but it wasn’t doing so at the precise moment that we were trying to clean it. The best remedy we were able to come up with was to place the footstool over the wet area. Before long any amorous desires had left and very shortly I was also out of the door leaving behind a pretty distraught young lady, as I got on my bike and just rode around not wanting to go home. As much as I was mad that there was a possibility that she was going to get in trouble, the main thought that kept playing itself over and over in my mind was hauling her off the arm of the sofa and flipping up her skirt. Not only did I think about it all that night, I still think about it to this day. Whenever I spank a girl and I lift up her skirt, if she is wearing some form of bikini styled white nylon/silk panties then the pinnacle of my spanking world is revisited, and the session always turns into a very enjoyable one for me. Its amazing how one small act can have such a powerful effect on one person’s life.

After that event our relationship went downhill from there, we did see each other every day but we started to hang out less and less. Eventually she left her Mum’s house and ended up in a young girl’s shelter with 50 or so other troubled young ladies. I visited her there a few times but it wasn’t long before we no longer worked together and stopped seeing each other altogether. After having my own troubles for several years I did bump into her just one time, she was now 21, Married and had 3 children including a set of twins. Now that I have immigrated to America I do still wonder if everything turned out alright for her. My next piece will cover a very long dry spell, and coming to terms with the fact that I thought I was a total freak for having these spanking desires.

7 comments to First time — and why the dress code is so important to me.

  • ginger

    ok, so I have to ask since you obviously did see eachother after this happened; was it ever mentioned or spoken of? The spanking, I mean. Or even referred to? Do you think this had any affect on not hanging out as much as you once did?


  • Richard Windsor


    No, this was never brought up as an incident. Being that we grew up in a low income housing estate where children were often flayed, lol, I honestly believe that she saw it as a natural consequence for what she did. I think she was more upset over the fact that the water had poured onto the floor.

    You have to remember that I swatted her at every available opportunity, this just extended a little further than normal. I certainly never brought it up as I was totally ashamed of what I thought was a serious sick fetish at the time, something that made me think there was something seriously wrong with me.


  • Jujubees

    I can certainly relate to this story. The awkwardness of the situation, coming from a home that was less than optimal (further confusing the feelings you had about spanking), not having a decent place to go to be together with your first romantic interest, and being young and naive about spanking. I believe we are about the same age based on your timeline here, so the era is also easy for me to relate to, except I grew up in the states. I am looking forward to more of this type of entry if you are willing to share. Thanks so much!


  • Alvin

    I couldn’t agree more about the dress code being important.

    About 10 years ago I had a lady called Chrissie come and work for me. At the time she was about 35. I remember I offered her the job as soon as she walked in. She had a figure to die for but the problem was, she knew it. Despite the fact she was married with 2 kids, she dressed so provocatively it drove me mad.

    One day she’d come to work wearing a short lycra skirt, another day just a strappy top which was not good for my blood pressure as she had enormous breasts . Yet another day, she wore fish-nets. And she had a real “attitude”.

    Well I don’t mind admitting that for 9 months I fantasised over putting her across my knee and giving her what I considered a long overdue spanking. Imagine the torture I was going through thinking about whether she wore tights or stockings? Were the fish-nets in fact stockings? There was quite a bit of banter and in fact one day she snagged herself on the desk and I commented that we only paid out for new stockings, not tights. And of course, needed the proof. She snorted that I’d just “have to wonder”.

    Anyway, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, something happened which put a whole new complexion on things. I remember it as clear as if it was yesterday. We were advised that the auditors were coming in so I advised the rest of the staff. Unfortunately, Chrissie was late back from lunch, yet again. When I enquired where she was, I was told she’d met someone for lunch. Anyway, when she finally came back I demanded to see her straightaway. Before I could say anything, she stood in front of my desk and leaned forward. She was wearing one of those low-cut tops that had to be worn with a jacket, which she was. But from my angle I could see the tops of her massive breasts and I started to sweat. She said, “Do you have a problem?” Uninvited, she pulled up a chair and sat down. She sat down and crossed her legs. She was wearing a tight black velvet skirt which rose above her knee. Trying to stay calm I told her about the auditors coming and that I might need to stay for half an hour after work. She huffily replied that she was meeting someone and only if she could put them off, would she agree. With that she got up and walked to the door. I got a quick glimpse of the fact that she had “seams” on the backs of her legs which triggered all sorts of thoughts. Suffice to sayI got through very little work.

    Anyway, just before 5, she came in to see me in a very tense mood. Apparently, the thought of the auditors had panicked her. It seemed that she’d been dipping into petty cash quite regularly and was worried it would come to light. I told her that it would do and it was a very serious matter. Her whole attitude had changed and I told her to cancel her meeting as she would definitely be staying after work. If need be til 7.

    I felt like I was “calling the tune now” and when I called her into my office after all the other staff had gone there was no sitting down uninvited, she stood quietly. I gave her a thorough dressing down. Told her I was going to call the police in at which she suddenly started to cry. She apologised saying that her husband who was in the armed forces was away and she wanted the money for a holiday but that she’d intended to pay it back. I also questioned her on rumours going around the office that she’d been seeing “gentleman” friends while her husband was away. She interupted to say that was private and I told her, not if it was during the day and interfered with her work. I told her I should ring the police and also her husband. She begged me not to.

    At this, I thought it’s now or never. So I told her to stop crying or I’d give her something to cry about. The crocodile tears stopped immediately. And I told her I wouldn’t call the police or her husband. She took both my hands in hers and was thanking me profusely. When I told her that I thought she’d acted very childishly and that I thought she needed to go across my knee for an old-fashioned spanking. She shook her head vigourously from side to side and said, “Absolutely not”. Reaching for the phone, I said” Fair enough, the police it is then”
    She protested, calling me all the names under the sun. That she was too old, she was married, etc. I waited til she’d finished before calmly telling her that I intended to find out once and for all whether she wore stockings or not. More protests but she hadn’t stormed out so I thought it was time to use “implied consent”. I told her to ger her typist chair reckoning if she did that she was accepting her fate. She stomped out and brought the chair in. I took hold of her wrist while sitting down on the chair and pulled her face down across my lap. Taking a firm hold I then proceeded to give her a good few spanks over her skirt. I remember how satisfying it was feeling that soft velvet below my hand. But I wasn’t finished yet. I told her how she’d tormented me and how I wanted to know whether she wore tights or not. I started to tug at the hem of her very tight skirt which brought forth more protests and she tried knock my hand away. I repeated my threat re the police and she shrugged and told me to get on with it. I tugged her skirt up and was met with a sight I can remember to this day. The tops of sheer black stockings held up by a black suspender belt and the skimpiest of red silk knickers. I don’t know how I completed the task but for the next 5-10 minutes I was in esctacy as I gave her a damned good spanking. Firstly, with her knickers up and then down. she bucked and writhed and pleaded with me to stop. I got the impression she’d never been spanked before. All I could hear was,”stop it, I’ve never been so humiliated”. When I finished she jumped up and stood there vigourously rubbing her arse, her skirt still up around her waist and her knickers around her ankles. All she kept repeating was, “It hurts, it hurts”. Her mascara was running down her face. Before she pulled up her knickers straitened her skirt and ran out. Unfortunately, she didn’t come back

  • Amber

    You know, the whole idea of a guy taking charge and just hauling me over his lap for a spanking as you did with your first girlfriend just sends little goosebumps in a good way 🙂


  • cinndunc


    Thanks very much for sharing this with us.

    I have to ask, during your relationship, did you ever talk to this girl about spankings she had received growing up? Can you remember anything she might have said?

    For me, this is an important part of any spanking relationship I’ve had.

    Mark (Cinndunc on SF&R)

  • Richard Windsor

    I’m glad that you like that, because at the Shadowlane party this year you know I’ll be looking for you 😉

    At 16 years old I thought that there was something seriously wrong with me because of my love of spanking. She had used the term thrashing on one or two occasions, which I assumed to mean that she got the belt. It is a strange thing really, as I thought that I was sick I didn’t dare even mention the word spanking back then. Aside from that, we both suffered what could be termed as psychological abuse on a ‘Sybil’ level. Spending the times we did together was an escape into a little fantasy land for the both of us, very little was discussed about our own home life, it was what we were trying to escape.



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