The way I met Hector was rather embarrassing.  I was back in school the September after meeting Nikki.  The weather was so beautiful that I decided to study outside during the hour between two classes. As I sat reading, somehow one of my notebooks slipped through the back of the bench.  I couldn't fit my hand through the slats of the bench, and since there was a huge bush behind, I couldn't just walk around.  The only way I could figure out how to reach the notebook was to kneel on the bench, and lean down over the back.  Because that would put me in a bit of an unseemly position (well, unseemly except to other spankos), I quickly glanced around to make sure I was alone.  Seeing no one, I bent down to reach for the notebook.  As I perched there, butt in the air, I heard a loud wolf whistle. By the time I could get myself upright, notebook in hand, this guy had nearly reached me, walking up the path, with a big grin on his face.

"Nice," is all he said.

As quickly as I could, I gathered my stuff, and headed off in the opposite direction, despite the fact it was the other way from my next class.  I was still self-conscious about my butt, due to the teasing I had received so many years before from Tommy Tisdale. I still didn't consider it a positive feature that would draw any sort of compliment, even such a crude one.  

My escape was temporary. The next day I ran into the guy at the student center. Before I could escape, he introduced himself, and apologized for his "greeting" the day before.  He just couldn't help himself, he said.  Since he was actually kind of cute, and being so nice, I couldn't refuse his invitation for us to have lunch together.  His name was Hector, and he was new at the school that semester. As we talked, he couldn't seem to drop the subject of our first meeting any more than I could stop thinking about it.  His explanation was that, being Latino (he was originally from Venezuela), he naturally appreciated an attractive female backside.  When I muttered something about its being too big, he assured me that no, it was perfect - so perfect that was it possible I could be Latina myself.

As it happens, and I I admitted, my mother's grandmother had been Cuban, making me one-eighth Latina. Laughing, he said that must explain things.  Perhaps it does.

We began seeing each other quite a bit around campus.  As it was clear that he had an interest in me, I let him know that I was in a relationship - without telling him that this relationship was with another woman. I wasn't quite ready to be out of the closet.  The boundary set, we were able to enjoy each other's company.

Several weeks later, there was an "Octoberfest" dance at the school.  Since Nikki was off to visit her mother (and she was no more "out" than I was), I had no other plans.  A friend, Shanae, suggested that we check out the dance.  Although we had graduated high school together, we only started hanging out together when we started occasionally sharing rides to the community college.  Well, we went to the dance, and it was dreadful.  The crowd was sparse. the DJ horrid, and it was in the dining hall of the student center.  We were deciding whether to go or stay - leaning heavily toward "go" - when who should we see there but Hector.  He agreed that the affair was awful, and then invited us to join him at a party he was going to at a friend's house. Since it had to be better than this, we decided to tag along.  Shane was driving, and we followed him.

Hector's friend's party was laud and raucous, with lots of alcohol.  I don't remember what I was drinking, if I even knew at the time, but it was too much, far too much. Shedding my inhibitions and usual shyness, I was dancing either everyone, though as the night wore on, mostly with Hector, especially the few slow dances.  Shanae was getting a bit worried about me, and suggested a couple times that we should be going.  At least she told me later that she had; I don't really remember.  What I do remember is ending up in a bedroom upstairs with Hector, feeling incredibly horny.  I hadn't been with a guy in over a year, and that night, in the state I was in, that was something I craved.  Two other things I remember - the sex was mind-blowing ( so much better than what I had ever had with David), and then afterwards, when I went to get dressed, I couldn't find my panties.  I think we danced more afterwards, though I can't be sure.  Eventually it was Shanae who took me home, though I have no clear recollection of that, either.  

Fortunately, the next day was Saturday, because I was too hung over to get out of bed.  Though I still felt awful, I was able to pull myself together in time to work my scheduled evening shift at the diner.  I canceled Sunday plans with Nikki - having schoolwork to get done, and still not feeling 100%.  To tell the truth, I was also feeling a bit guilty.  I dodged a couple phone calls from Hector.

I couldn't avoid him on Monday.  We had lunch together.  He had something to give me - my panties.  His friend must have found them, and figured out who they belonged to.  If I hadn't felt like a bit of a slut before, now I surely did.  I didn't blame Hector - he hadn't forced me to do anything - yet he apologized.  He could see I wasn't happy with myself.

I carried the guilt around with me for a couple days, before finally confessing everything to Nikki on the phone. She seemed to take it almost too calmly, though it was clear she was upset. We confirmed our plans to get together Friday night.  Well, that was a good sign, I thought.

I met Nikki at her place.  However calm she had seemed the night before, she was totally opposite when I got there.  It wasn't that she was yelling and screaming, just really agitated, even though we talked around what was on both our minds.  If someone didn't do something, it was going to be a miserable evening.

It was in desperation that I said to her, "Maybe you should just spank me."

I don't know what made me suggest this.  This may sound funny, but I had never considered getting spanking for discipline.  In roleplay, sure, or as a playful (however painful) punishment.  But not real discipline for real behavior.  I was partly kidding, partly just trying to change the subject, and partly just grasping for anything to make it all better.  However I meant it, Nikki must have decided it was the thing to do. It was down with my pants, and then over her lap.  She didn't say anything, just used a stout hairbrush on my bottom.  It was the hardest spanking I had yet received.  That, though, wasn't what hurt the most.  What hurt was the anger which with she spanked my butt, and the fear that I might not be able to win back her love.  Afterwards, I just crumpled up on the floor and cried. It was a long time, much too long, before she crouched down next to me to engulf me in her arms.

I'm sure that Nikki thought she had given me what I needed.  I tried to think so too.  After all, a lot of the people I had chatted with online, and a lot of the stories I had read, related how receiving such a punishment helped relieve guilt, and make the recipient feel loved.  IN the coming days, I realized, though, that I had felt plenty guilty before the spanking - but that it had not in any way relived those feelings. And it had not made me feel more loved, but rather less.  Nikki's hugging me on the floor afterwards was what had made be feel loved.  And finally, it had done nothing to steel my resolve to avoid a repeat performance - that was not something I didn't need a spanking for.  

Once I realized that I wanted spankings only as erotic play, I needed to be able to communicate that to Nikki  - without making her feel she had done anything wrong.  After all, I had been the one to suggest it.  How was she to know?  I screwed up my courage and told her.  It turned out that she felt relieved.  Spanking me to keep me in line was not something that she wanted to do either.  We hopped into bed for some mad passionate lovemaking, without even considering throwing in a spanking.

And that, friends, has been my only truly disciplinary spanking.



 


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