My own first awareness

[EricaScott]

I posted this in my blog as well, so apologies to those who have already seen it.

I think there are two kinds of awareness. First, there is that strange, indefinable feeling that wired spankos claim to have as children -- the urge to look up "spank" in the dictionary, the childhood spanky games, the fascination with spankings in TV and books, the eagerness to hear about friends' punishments. We have no idea why we have these feelings; we just know they're there. And then there is the second kind of awareness, the one that hits like a ton of bricks when wired spankos come of age: The knowledge that spanking is somehow intertwined with those budding sexual sensations.

I was a textbook case of a wired spanking fetishist as a child -- yup, I looked up the word, I played spanking games with my dolls, I felt those strange butterflies whenever I saw a spanking on TV or in a book. But I was very naive and had no clue about the sexual side of it. However, when I think back, my first real, memorable sexual connection came when I was 15 years old.

There was kind of a "teen center" near my house when I was in high school, and I hung out there a lot with friends. There was a pool table and pingpong table, a stereo, lots of comfy chairs, and they'd show films on the weekends. Occasionally, they had live music. The crowd there was a bit on the rough side -- heavy smokers and drinkers, drugs, a lot of sexual activity. My best girlfriend was known as the good-time girl, the one who would do anyone, anytime. Me? I was still a virgin. So I hung out at the outer fringes of this crowd, desperate to fit in anywhere. I smoked cigarettes, and I smoked pot on occasion. I didn't drink, because the drink of choice was always beer and I hated it. I played a lot of pool and got quite good at it.

In a crowd such as ours, there had to be one especially bad "bad boy," and ours was Bruce, 16. I can still picture him -- tall, lean and wiry, handsome, shaggy brown hair. A charming grin and piercing eyes. He was a mystery -- he didn't go to school, he lived on his own in a small dumpy apartment near the center. No one knew what he lived on, what the deal was with his family, etc. He was just there at the center a lot of the time, often stoned or drunk. He had that magic that bad boys have -- you knew he was the worst possible news, but oh god, you were drawn to him anyway. The girls flocked around him like sheep, and he flirted with all of them. There were rumors that he had already sired a couple of children. I noticed him kind of peripherally -- he scared me. Until one afternoon...

A bunch of us were at the center, and a very cute, petite 14-year-old girl named Katie was teasing Bruce about something, I don't remember. Suddenly, he grabbed her, sat in a nearby chair and yanked her over his knees. She had a thin sundress on, and as I recall, he didn't lift it, but he really walloped her. I can still see it -- he had been smoking a cigarette, and he clamped it in his teeth, his jaw set with determination. I can picture his rolled-up sleeves, the musculature in his right forearm. I see her hair flying around and her feet kicking.

It didn't last long, and when he let her up, she just rubbed her bottom and glared at him. But I stood nearby, and trembled inside. And at that moment, I developed a fierce, blinding crush on Bruce. Silly, naive, virginal Erica, with a crush on the baddest of bad boys.

Nothing came of it, of course. He paid little attention to me, although a couple of times he did flirt with me (I was just one of the many generic girls who slobbered over him). Once, he snatched me up, threw me over his shoulder and spun me around and around. That was no small feat, considering I weighed about 150 pounds at the time. And once, my girlfriend and I were at his apartment, and he went to take a shower. As she and I watched TV, we heard his voice holler from the bathroom, "Which one of you two is gonna wash my back?" Funny thing -- my girlfriend had been sleeping with boys since she was 11 and it would have meant nothing to her to see one naked in the shower, but she just grinned at me and said, "You go." My heart pounding and my hands shaking, I walked into the steamy bathroom and saw him standing there in the shower, his back to me. He never turned around, just handed me the washcloth, and I scrubbed his back with it, trying not to stare too much at his beautiful body. I had never seen a boy naked before. This did nothing to help my crush, by the way.

Who knows... maybe my attraction to handsome bad boys dates back to Bruce -- the first boy I ever saw give a girl a spanking, the first boy I ever saw naked. But oh my god, the way I felt when I watched him spank Katie... 34 years later, I still feel it. I wanted him to spank me, and then I wanted him to do whatever he damn well pleased with me.

I wonder what became of him. If he's even still alive, which is doubtful considering the way he lived, I highly doubt he remembers chubby, worshipful Erica from 34 years ago. But I guess I'll never forget him. Amazing, the impact that people can have on us, and they don't even know it.
-- Erica

[garyspk]

Originally Posted by EricaScott

I wonder what became of him. If he's even still alive, which is doubtful considering the way he lived, I highly doubt he remembers chubby, worshipful Erica from 34 years ago. But I guess I'll never forget him. Amazing, the impact that people can have on us, and they don't even know it.
-- Erica

Great story Erica. All of us who are into the fetish have some kind of story similar to this. Although I don't recall being asked to soap anyone's back!

Thanks for a great r/l story.

[EricaScott]

Thank you, Gary. Yeah, getting to wash his back was nice, but I would have rather gotten a spanking. -- Erica

[friendlyspanker]

I enjoyed reading about Katie and the shower. And I appreciated your point about the feelings we have but don't really understand when we were yonger, and how they start to make some kind of sense when we reach a certain age.

Thanks,

Friendlyspanker