It all started with the formation of a men's club which had two missions. One was to be a help to fine young women who had overextended themselves and found themselves in the red. However, the other reason for the existence of the club was not altruistic and the young women could not get the funds without providing the 'fun.' Let me start with this admittance. The names and places have been changed to protect the privacy we all appreciate. As a founding member in good standing of 'The Highlanders. We are a big deal in and around Roanoke and our small college where Radford is located. I had put together the art of the deal. However, that part of the account will be shared later. Join me on a journey as we celebrate the greatest personal time of the year. One where hope springs eternal and love is in the air.
I'm sure we all would agree love comes in many forms and shades. that's what makes us human. The heart wants, what the heart wants may sound simplistic, but when it comes to romance each brings the sum of their life experiences into the budding relationship. while there certainly is some good, I think we would all agree each of us also carries hurtful emotional baggage that we must deal with to be a successful couple. Picture it like a rose under the ground, that with some sun's love becomes the rose. Those inner petals expose the fantasies to their mate and, so a new romance has a chance to do what, so many fueled fantasies do not. A relationship that actually lives up to its expectations through the exploration of what to some would seem odd or strange. What follows is such an account where childhood experiences of both members of the couple form what the heart really wants in the hopes of living out a blistering hot romance.
For the sake of this account, meet the young looking small in stature who still looked fine, especially her butt. Mrs. Semone from Maryland you could say comes down on the pretty side of the curve. the early thirty-something teacher with shoulder length brown hair and the chipmunk-like face. Though small in stature, make no doubt about it she is a force in the classroom. and the long-wood red painted paddle she keeps at the ready in her middle drawer of her teacher desk. Trust me as a former student it was feared. I was tagged as a talker along with several girls. Boy, girl, it did not matter. If you had interrupted the flow of her classroom, your ass was in for a burning reminder after class.
Think this did not happen, think again! The account I am relating to you is first hand, not here say. Remember readers that in the 1970's south the paddle stood alone in its effectiveness to provide a sharp reminder to behave. while paddling's here and across the sea are seldom and only in rare cases such was not the during the bicentennial year of 1976. My point is that spankings given at school in this case with the paddle can in some cases can and evidently does lead to fantasies that include a wooden paddle. For these people the mention of leather whips and chains turns their stomach and in no way plays into their rich fantasies. I think it is fair to say that such physical punishments virtually are assured to enrich their fantasies and invent creative reasons, that might to the 'real world' seem capricious and downright silly. However, this is over reach on the part of the general public that have had the experiences and time to reach the age of thirty.
In theory my argument may be specious to the average reader. However, I encourage you to read further as I take the points I have made and fit them into one of the most vibrant romances that Valentine's Day has spawned. Well, at least in the realm using the parameters hinted at above. Precisely, the act of being a willing participant in an adult spanking. There I said it. so, what makes an adult spanking such a mind blowing experience, dear reader?
The scientist would say that the spanks with paddle or other implement heat up the surfaces closes to the sex organs. While psychologies might interject shared experience as we matured as adults and spanking was at the very least a punishment option in our lives. However, both of these avenues in my opinion fail to take in account the emotional baggage, some would call guilt for life's events and how as an adult we handle those issues. The question that needs to be asked, is does spanking relieve stress for bad feelings? And, if you agree with me about either premise, then can you not see that fundamentally that this could lead to a beautiful, romantic, relationship filled with elation? Now, if that relationship blossomed later in life on Valentine's Day at a time and place where age was less of a matter, wouldn't that be the perfect, 'Be My Valentine?"
I guess it could best said by quoting the Frank Sinatra song, "I did it my way." The teacher and me both brought into the relationship the experience, nuances and fantasies shaped by our lives and those included the stimuli from our childhoods. This is something that clearly has the ability to influence fantasies, wants, needs and desires. Might one assume a bright bottom can communicate to an adult that one's guilt has been relieved and the spankee is at peace? Well, dear readers, I submit for your examination the math teacher who became my valentine. From my side of the equation there was two factors.
During high school I had developed a reputation for being a talker. As a shy boy this was my way with interacting, although incorrectly with my classmates. I was also mercilessly picked on and any attention from my peers was like a drug for my soul. ironically, in a sensitive moment in an empty modular (trailer) classroom I explained all of this to my algebra teacher who already taken her red painted wooden paddle out from the back of her middle desk drawer and put it on the top of her desk. it struck fear in my heart and for good reason.
No matter, the season which determined pants, dresses or skirts for the girls, or for us boys corduroy pants instead of slacks. In the end, it didn't make a damn. Clothing did very little to dissipate the burn produced by a well swung paddle on any bottom including mine. Mrs. Semone was looking fine, but the paddle swat she had perfected courtesy of her tennis swing was heinous. The pretty brown haired teacher had developed a flick of the wrist right before impact with part where we would remember it most when we sat our desks the next day. I will never forget the next day after my last paddling, it was Valentine's Day. Our teacher came in the trailer door as I sat and fidgeted on my sore bottom. Mrs. Semone walked up to the blackboard in the front of the class. She had worn an above knee bright yellow clingy cotton dress and there was the naughty, unladylike visible panty line across her bottom that made a certain part stand at attention. this fueled my fantasies to spank her bent over across those panty line with her own long-wood red painted paddle. thankfully my erection went down before I was called to the board to work an equation. this represented a new fantasy I had never experienced where I was the one delivering the paddle to a deserving teacher
However, the paddle really did have some lasting benefits. as you can imagine and Julie under the Frazier's talked and one heated topic was the paddling Julie had recently received under the Frazier tree for missing math. Mrs. Semones's traveled outside specially about common experiences. After the tears had stopped dripping down our faces, boy or girl we all admitted that when we pulled down our underpants or panties after our time on the wrong end of the paddle. I polled Tim, Janice, Jay, Gwyn as well as Duncan and Juli were all fellow members of the high school 'hot seat' club. You might be surprised that the teacher who had made all of our butts bright voted for Mrs. Semone to be, Radford Teacher Of The Year.
Perhaps, even more remarkable was that each of us who on more than one occasion had bucked up off her desk from a paddle swat, was that we were involved in the full throated electioneering for this one of a kind teacher who had painted our behinds. To me this underscored what an effective teacher who cared enough to keep us focused. Detractors of corporal punishment would point to the liberal use of the paddle as the motivator. However, that would be very unfair to our Algebra teacher. I would suggest and I'm sure other paddled classmates would agree that the attention we received as we sat the next day on a sore bottom in our unforgiving hard plastic desk seats made the paddling's more acceptable than most would find after a paddling. I want to make one thing crystal clear, that is, if a teacher that acted like our Geometry Teacher there would be a garrison of students speaking up in favor of banning paddling. Clearly in our view there was a great difference between the two high school math teachers. While our geometry teacher let us talk among ourselves and allowed us to sit their without immediate consequences for not working on our problems, our algebra teacher presented us with consequences and held us accountable in a way that got our attention which brought fear to our rears.
What made these corrections memorable in a positive vein was the aftermath of one Of Mrs. Semone's bright red bottom paddling's. There was forgiveness. The slate had been wiped clean. Then there was individual teaching to re-teach concepts which after learned would allow for math notebooks to be completed and when this was accomplished a smile that let the student know she had a belief we could do the work. That hope for the future left us with a warm feeling even from what we all consider the most unpleasant of our high school days. We all succeeded and in cases from Gwyn to Charlotta and even Juli. In the case of the last two they had distinguished themselves as National Honor Society Members.
Honor student, star football player or class float representative, like me. It made no difference. The fact of the matter remained, the paddle was king for the students in Mrs. Semone's math class. As a result we of her inspiration we all went on to college and beat the odds of graduating from a rural Burlington Mills town. Funny how things can lead to buds of romance, because we have a sense of like experiences. If we are fully truthful, then as adults we must admits we make mistake and have errors in judgment that result to hurt to the ones that truly care about us. They say that history sometimes repeats itself. This was the case with Mrs. Semone's my former teacher paths passed at, Valentine's Day Massacre held in the city near Radford.
