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Confessions of a Spanking Addict Part II

It’s the anticipation. It always has been I guess. The anticipation of being spanked is what really
does it to me. Even as a child or young teen, knowing that I was going to get it, and then thinking
about what was going to happen to me would make me incredibly excited. As I said before, I
didn’t understand what I was feeling, but I sure as hell enjoyed it. And the longer the anticipation,
the more excited I got. The spankings themselves, even though they hurt something fierce, were
exciting, but it was the anticipation of the event; knowing I was in for a bottom warming; knowing
when it was going to happen; thinking about how it was going to be done; picturing myself in
position over my daddy’s lap, my bottom bared to receive the punishing smack of his hand;
thinking about how many spanks I was going to receive. For me--as a girl, a young teen, and even
now--the anticipation of a spanking was, and still is, the most exciting thing I can think of.
And the longer my anticipation, the more excited I got. In fact, it’s those times when the
anticipation was extended for some long period, that I can remember the most vividly. I already
told you about the one spanking I remember clearly--the one right after my 12th birthday, but
there are several others that really stand out in my mind. One of those spankings took place when I
was about thirteen.
It involved my cousin Sarah. Sarah and I were in the same classes at the middle school. We
were both really good students except in Science. I was barely a B student and Sarah had trouble
getting Cs. So when it came to tests, we both would panic. Now, let me just mention the fact that
it had been about two months since my mom or dad had given me any kind of serious spanking.
Actually, Mom didn’t spank me at all any more. She left that up to my dad. Anyway, it had been
about two months since I had been soundly spanked, and I was itching for one big time. Oh, I had
gotten a few swats on my jeans a couple of times, and my dad had even put me over his knee once
or twice for maybe ten spanks on the seat of my panties. But nothing in the way of a serious fanny
smacking. So, like I said, I was itching for one.
Two other things you should know. First, I was beginning to figure out that the excitement
I felt was centered in a very small part of my anatomy. I still hadn’t figured out what to do about
it, but that was coming soon. Second, my cousin Sarah was an instigator. She had this certain
knack for getting both of us into a whole lot of trouble. Anyway, back to what got me in trouble in
the first place.
One Friday, Mr. Marks, my science teacher, announced that there was going to be a test
on Monday morning. Groans and moans about the weekend were lost on him, as he proceeded to
tell us what was going to be on the test. Class ended, School ended for the week, and Sarah and I
got on the bus for home. On the way home we talked about boys--our favorite topic, plans for the
weekend, and the need to study for the science test. Sarah told me she wasn’t planning to study.
She told me she had figured out how to pass without studying--she was going to make a cheat

“Sarah! You can’t do that! What if you get caught!?”

“But I’m not going to get caught. And I’m not going to fail another test either! Look
Michelle, I have to get a good grade. My dad will kill me if I fail another test.”

“Sarah, your dad will kill you if he finds out you cheated.”

“But he’s not noing to find out, is he!? Look, you can’t afford to fail either. Why don’t you
come over tonight, and we’ll make the cheat sheets together?”

“I dunno Sarah. If we get caught, we’re gonna be in an awful lot of trouble.”

Well, to make a long story short, Sarah convinced me to try it, and I went over that night to make
the cheat sheet. It was a good one, too. We made them on computer, then reduced the type size so
that we could still read it, but the paper was real small. The whole time we were doing it though, I
was thinking if we get caught, I am going to get the spanking of my life. And thinking about that
just set my heart to pounding.
Monday came and so did the test. Sarah and I had prepared the cheat sheets well. I had
every answer on the test. The period ended and we started out of class--until Mr. Marks called us

“Sarah and Michelle, could I see the two of you for a moment, please?”

What could he want, I thought. We walked over to his desk. He sat there, just looking at the two
of us. He was holding our tests. Each one had a big red zero on the top!

“Would the two of you like to hand over those cheat sheets now, or do you want to wait
until we go down to the principal’s office?”

My heart sank to my knees. On the way down, it passed through my tummy and left me with the
sure knowledge that I was in big trouble. I began to anticipate my certain future. Sarah tried to
tough it out.

“What cheat sheets? Why do you think we were cheating?”

“Well, gee, Sarah, I don’t know. Maybe because I watched the two of you use them all
period. Come on girls, you’ve got to get better at this if you’re going to try to fool me.”

With that he flipped open each of our science books that were laying on his desk and there lay the
incriminating evidence.

“So, girls, how do you want to play this? Gonna confess and take your lumps, or are you
going to continue to try to tough it out?”

We both just stood there staring at our feet. I honestly thought I was going to start crying. Sarah

“Please Mr. Marks, don’t tell my parents! They’ll kill me!”

“Well, Sarah, I doubt very much that they’ll kill you. But I do have to tell them, and I am
sure there will be some severe consequences. Let’s go down to the office now, please. I
want to call your parents. They’ll have to come pick the two of you up.”

Anticipation! I was scared to death. My heart was pounding. My hands were sweating.
And that old familiar tingling was starting down there below my tummy. Mr. Marks stood up and
escorted us to the door. All the way down the hallway to the office, Sarah kept sniffling and
pleading for Mr. Marks not to call her parents. Funny, she only seemed concerned with herself at
that point. I, on the other hand, was beginning to picture my future. I knew it was not going to be
pleasant, but it was something I deserved, needed, and wanted!
Well, we got to the office, and he called our parents. We listened to his side of the
conversations with growing trepidation. Sarah continued to cry. I finally had enough and turned to

“Sarah, knock it off! Your mom and dad aren’t going to kill you! You know that. The
worst that’s going to happen is you’re gonna get spanked. So just knock it off, will you!”

That made things worse. Turns out, my darling cousin knew that was exactly what was going to
happen to her--and worse. Seems my aunt and uncle had an old wooden hairbrush that Sarah was
quite familiar with. Truth be told, however, there was no spanking they could administer with that
hairbrush that could even come close to what my dad could give with just his hand.
Anyway our parents came to the school, and we were each ushered into the principal’s
office for a meeting. Sarah went in first. I could only hear muffled words coming out, but it was
obvious that Sarah was getting chewed out pretty good by her dad. I did however, clearly hear
one thing that Sarah said.

“Noooooo, Dadddeeeeeee! Pleeeeeeeease! I won’t ever do it again! I’m really sorry!
Pleeeeeeease Daddeeeeeee!”

Then there was the sound of shuffling, the door opened, and Sarah and my Uncle came out. He
did not look happy. Sarah looked downright scared and was crying. Uncle John had Sarah by the
hand and lead her out to the car. Then it was my turn. My dad and I went into the principal’s
office. I stared at the floor and listened as Mr. Marks told my Dad what had happened. I watched
in utter dismay as he handed my dad the cheat sheet. I looked at my dad and saw that he didn’t
look angry. He looked very sad. I started to cry.

Then my dad said the words that I knew--and hoped--were coming.

“Well, young lady. You know you’re in a whole lot of trouble don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I think you know what’s going to happen to you when we get home don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh, my god! I was just about dying. I could not believe how excited I was at the same time I was
so scared. I was picturing very clearly now what lay in store for me. I almost didn’t hear what my
dad said next.

“Well, then I think it’s only fair that you tell Mr. Marks what is going to happen to you.”

“Daddy, nooo, pleeeease. I don’t want to do that. Please don’t make me.”

“Michelle Elizabeth! This is not a request! You will tell Mr. Marks right now. And then
you will apologize to him for cheating!”

This had not been part of what I was anticipating. Being spanked in the privacy of my own home
was one thing. Having to tell my cute, young, male teacher that I was going to be spanked was
something else entirely. I bit my knuckle, started to cry, and turned to my dad for a reprieve. He
shook his head and motioned for me to tell Mr. Marks.

“NOW, Michelle Elizabeth!”

I jumped at his tone. I turned to Mr. Marks, turned bright red, and said the words that I normally
found so exciting.

“I’m gonna get a spanking. I’msorryMr.MarksIwon’teverdoitagain!”

I wanted the floor to just swallow me. But strangely, I realized I was even more excited than
before. I just could not understand this at all. But, now, all I could think of was getting home, so
that my dad could start spanking me. He took me by the hand and we walked out of the principal’s
office. All the way out to the car and almost all the way home, my dad didn’t say a word to me. It
was a lonnnnnnnng ride home. Actually, it was a long ride. We lived about ten miles from the
school and it took about 20 minutes to get home. By the time we were about half way home, I was
doing some serious knuckle chewing as well as some serious squirming in my seat. About a mile
from our house, my dad finally spoke.

“I’m very disappointed with you Micki.”

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. Really I am. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

“I believe you, honey, but I am still going to spank you.”

“I know.”

“The question is just how much and how hard I’m going to spank you. What do you think
I should do?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, maybe you should think about it. I want to know what you think you deserve.”

I was dying with excitement, and this was just making it more intense. The anticipation of what
was going to happen to me in the next hour had me squirming with the most intense encitement I
had ever experienced. I thought hard while we were stopped at a light. As we pulled away, I had
made my mind up about what I wanted to say.


“Yes, Micki?”

“What Sarah and I did was really wrong, so I ....uh.....I......uh.....I guess I deserve to be
spanked really hard for a really long time.”

“I see. Do you think that maybe I should use your mom’s hairbrush this time?”

“I’d rather you use your hand, Daddy. Please.”

“OK, I’ll use my hand. Hmmmm, let’s see. I think the most spanks I’ve ever given you was
about 150. Do you think that’s enough this time?”

My heart was pounding like crazy. All this talk about my impending spanking was making me
more and more excited all the time. For reasons I didn’t then understand, I wanted to put my hand
between my legs and rub myself. I whispered my answer.

“I guess not.”

“I don’t think so either, Micki. In fact, I think maybe this spanking ought to be about
double that.”

Three hundred spanks! I was going to be sore for a week. I whispered again.

“Are you going to do it on my bare bottom?”

“What do you think, Micki? Is that what you deserve?”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

We pulled into the driveway. I realized I had maybe five minutes before my spanking would begin.
As we got out of the car, my dad told me to go right to his den and wait for him there. I noticed
that my mom was not yet home. I was glad of that. I was afraid she might decide she would do the
punishing. And I didn’t want that for anything in the world.
Now, I can remember to this day--ten years later--exactly what I was wearing that day. I
had on this short pink dress, white knee socks, and lavender-colored cotton panties. Very soon
that dress would be lifted up and those panties would be pulled down. As I waited in my dad’s
den, I wondered what was happening to Sarah at that moment. I had a pretty good idea, but what
I really wanted was to see it happening. Or at least hear it. Sarah lived next door, so I went to the
window and opened it a bit and listened. Very faintly, coming from the window I knew to be
Sarah’s, I could hear the sounds of Sarah crying accompanied by the sounds of a wooden
hairbrush smacking what I knew from experience to be be very bare, very red, very sore bottom.
I heard my dad moving around, so I closed the window and sat on the couch. He didn’t
come in yet. He was really letting me stew for a while. However, instead of stewing, I was
anticipating and for the first time in my life, I put my hand under my dress on the crotch of my
panties and began to lightly rub myself. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. I was just thinking
about putting my hand under my panties when I heard my dad coming down the hall. I pulled my
hand away, smoothed my dress, and folded my hands in my lap. The door opened and my dad
came in. I was about one minute from being spanked.
I stood up as he sat on the couch. I stood next to his right leg. He sighed and looked very
sad. I started to get really scared, and for the first time began to think about how much this
spanking was going to hurt.

“I don’t think we need to discuss why I’m spanking you, do we Micki? You know pretty
well why I have to do this, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s get this over with young lady. Please bend over.”

Slowly, I lay face down across my dad’s lap. I had already taken my shoes off, so now I
pointed my toes and began to dig them into the couch cushion. I pulled a throw pillow up to my
face. Daddy adjusted my position over his lap. He lifted the back of my dress. I could feel my
tummy and my vulva pressing into lap. It felt kind of good. I felt him put his fingers into the
waistband of my panties. Fifteen seconds--maybe. He pulled my panties down.
I was over my dad’s knee, my bottom was bare, and I was about to receive a spanking I
royally deserved and would never forget. No more anticipating. Daddy’s hand smacked down on
my bare bottom, and I jerked my legs up at the knees.
I had never been spanked this hard before in my life. Daddy’s hand practically set my poor
heinie on fire. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty spanks. Daddy spanked first one cheek of my bottom then
the other. I could feel my bottom jiggle each time Daddy’s palm bounced off it. Usually, I could
hold off crying hard for twenty or thirty spanks. But this spanking was very different! I was
sobbing and kicking my feet up and down by the fifteenth spank. And all I could think of was that
I was going to get 300 spanks!

My dad rained fire down on my bottom. Each slap of his palm made me wiggle and dance
on his lap. I cried and cried. At 75 spanks I began to plead for him to stop, but he just kept on
spanking me. I tried shifting from side to side so that he wouldn’t spank the same spots on my
bottom, but it didn’t really matter. As he spanked first my left bottom cheek then my right, he also
moved up and down my bottom. There was not one square inch of my bottom that he did not
spank---over and over and over. And he never said a word, he just kept raising his hand and
smacking it back down on my bare, flaming, bottom. At one point I remember the door to the den
open and I saw my mother look in. She watched for a moment, then quietly closed the door and
left. If I had hoped for a reprieve from her, it was not going to come.
I had never experienced a spanking so severe, so intense, so painful, .......and so exciting!
Around the time Daddy was administering my 200th spank, the sting from my well-punished
bottom was beginning to manifest itself in another sensation on the other side of my anatomy.
Gradually, I became aware of how excited I still was in spite of how much the spanking was
hurting. I cried and sobbed. I wiggled and squirmed on my dad’s lap. Spank after spank smacked
onto my jiggling, burning, stinging bottom cheeks. I kicked my legs up and down. I clenched the
pillow to my face as my tears streaked down and soaked it.
My lower torso was a mass of contradictions. My bottom hurt soooooo much,but around
my front, my vulva felt sooooo good. I could feel both my bottom and my vulva swelling---each
for such different reasons. I so badly wanted Daddy to stop spanking me, but I also wanted so
badly for him to keep spanking me. All of a sudden, the spanking stopped. I had been trying to
count, so I was pretty sure he hadn’t given me all 300 spanks. He rested his hand on the back of
my leg. It felt hot.

“Micki, I will stop spanking you right now, if you can truthfully tell me that the cheating
was not your idea. If you can’t tell that, then the last 50 spanks will be for thinking up this
stupid idea.”

Should I tell him the truth that it was Sarah’s idea? What would happen to Sarah, then?
Did I want to take 50 more spanks or did I want this to end. I thought fast and answered him.

“It unh, unh, unh was unh both our unh, unh idea. We uhn both thought unh of it. I’m
soooooo sorry Daddy unh, unh.”

He never said a word, he just started spanking again. And believe me those last 50 spanks
hurt more than any other spanks I’ve gotten before or since. I truly believed I would not be able to
sit down for a week. When my dad finished the spanking he stood me up and pulled my panties
back up. That hurt---felt like bees had gotten in there! Then he sent me to my room to think about
what I had done and what had happened as a result of what I had done.
I guess I should tell you that it didn’t end there. Two things happened during the next
couple of hours. Once I got to my room, I inspected the spanking damage in front of my mirror---I
bet all kids do that, don’t they! Then I lay down on my bed--on my belly for sure--and cried for a
long time. Contrary to what you might expect, I didn’t do any exploring to satisfy the other
sensation I had been feeling. That was going to happen soon, I can tell you. But it didn’t happen
that night. I was just a bit too sore to roll over on my back to try it.
The other thing that happened was that my mom and dad came into my room about an
hour after the spanking. They told me that my uncle had called. He told them that during Sarah’s
paddling, she had told him that the cheating had been all my idea and that she was not allowed to
be with me or around me until my parents could assure him that I would never be a bad influence
on her again. My dad asked me if it was true. I just burst into tears and repeated what I had told
him earlier. They left me to cry and I swore that I would get even with Sarah somehow, someway,

End of Part II

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