Caught Outside Bare Below the Waist

PART OF MY SPANKING HISTORY

I was 18 and living in a small town in Illinois. My parents were in Florida for a few weeks setting up a business and finding a house so we could move. I was few months from finishing my senior year. They felt comfortable leaving me alone because my grandparents lived nearby if I needed anything.

It was during this time of freedom that I came up with the brilliant idea that it would be fun to walk around the neighborhood after dark wearing only a sweatshirt, athletic socks and sneakers, no pants.

I was walking down a gravel road that bordered on woods behind the houses in our neighborhood. I heard the sound of a car and saw its headlights turning onto the road behind me. I dropped face down behind some bushes on the side of the road facing away from the car, waiting for it to drive past. Then two very scary things happened. It stopped about 10 feet behind me.

That's when I heard a man walking up to the car and the two men started talking about their pending fishing trip. I could see that I headlights were shining through the bushes. I didn't know if I was visible, but they were so close I didn't dare move a muscle.

My panic level was off the scale. I was shaking in fear and I felt an adrenaline surge. That's when I experienced an explosive and mind-shattering orgasm. My whole body was shuttering and I could barely contain myself from crying out. But the ordeal wasn't over.

They went on talking. I was still shaking in fear while my cock continued to pulsate, pumping out the last bit of semen onto the ground beneath me. There I was, still in peril of being caught, lying in a puddle of warm cum still feeling the effects of the orgasm.

Finally, their conversation ended and the car drove off. I remained there for several minutes trying to process what had transpired. I also knew I wanted to experience the feeling and excitement again and again. I went out again the next night.

I saw a house with a porch light on in the backyard. No one had fences and being a sprinter on the track team I knew I could probably escape if someone saw me and came out. I would then lay face down on the grass in the area illuminated by the porch light. I would face away from the house so I would not know whether or not anyone in the house was looking out into the backyard.

Back then no one had a/c so windows were open and I could often hear people talking. While doing so I would immediately start experiencing strong feelings of fear and anxiety. The risk of being seen and being caught was exciting. I knew full well the longer I remained there the greater the risk of discovery. Usually within 3-4 minutes the tension became so intense that I would spontaneously ejaculate.

I forced myself to remain in position until my orgasm was completed and then would make a quick exit from the yard. After a period of escalating exposure play, I found that my spontaneous ejaculations were becoming increasingly intense.

My fear play had become addictive and I began taking greater risks which caused me to feel even more fear. Eventually my luck ran out.

I was face down in a backyard really getting into my fear play when someone grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. The adrenaline rush I felt the first was nothing was nothing compared to this time. I felt like I was going to pass out but then was hit with a full flight response but I could not escape the iron grip on my arm.

I got caught by Mr. Harris, a neighbor who knew who I was. He yelled at me, "What the fuck are doing?" When I struggled to get away, he gave me a several very hard slaps on my bare butt and pulled me into his house. I was terrified.

There I was in his kitchen and he was still holding my arm, my butt was stinging from the slaps and my cock was still hard. He said, " I want to know what you were doing."

All I could say was, "I don't know.

He said, "Bullshit, do you think I'm stupid? I know what you were doing but I want to hear it from you. Start talking." Seeing no other option, I told him the truth. He shook his head and said, "That's pretty fucked up, I think I need to call the police." I was terrified at this prospect and tearfully pleaded with him not to do this.

All I could think about was how horrible it would be to be taken to the police station with no pants on and the total humiliation for my grandparents to be called to pick me up when I was naked below the waist. I continued to beg for mercy.

He eventually relented saying that if I agreed he would give me a break and personally administer punishment for my totally inappropriate behavior. He told me I was going to get the worst spanking of my life.

In a vain attempt to avoid being spanked stupidly I lied telling him my parents never spanked me. They had a few times when I was younger, a couple of quick slaps on the seat of my pants, but never bare. He said, "Well then you are long overdue, and I'm going to make up for their mistake."

Mr. Harris went, "Here's the deal. You will not fight me and will cooperate fully with your punishment. If you resist, I'll stop and call the cops. It's your choice." Reluctantly I accepted his terms.

I didn't realize until several years later that his offer to not call the police was likely based not on compassion for my plight, but motivated much more by the slaps he had administered to my bare butt in his backyard.

Mr. Harris was presented with the unique opportunity of catching a teenage boy in his yard with no pants on, and he wanted to spank me. This was an opportunity too good for him to pass up.

While the prospect of being spanked by Mr. Harris was frightening secretly, I also found the prospect exciting.

A few months earlier, in gym class I noticed that my best friend, had a seriously bruised butt. I asked him what happened and he told me he had got caught shoplifting and when he got home his father made him take off his pants and paddled his bare butt while his mother watched.

He told me how embarrassed he was because he got an erection in front of his mother. I found this fascinating and curiously arousing. I started having fantasies about going through the same experience.

Mr. Harris was divorced and lived alone. Not fully grown I was only 5'5" and weighed all of 110 pounds. In contrast, Mr. Harris was probably in his 40s and was a big muscular guy who towered over me and outweighed me by a 100 pounds or more.

He followed me down the steps to his basement probably savoring his red handprints on my butt, knowing there would be many more to come. He had had a wood-working shop in his basement. To my dismay I scanned the room and saw stacks of boards, a literal "trip to the woodshed."

Mr. Harris sat down on a wooden bench and had me stand in front of him. He pulled me forward making me straddle his left knee and then pulled me over and situated me in such a way that my head and shoulders were facing behind him.

He held me down with his left arm. Using his right leg, he spread my legs wide apart completely exposing my genitals to his view. I was overwhelmed by feelings of humiliation, vulnerability, helplessness and fear.

Like most every other 18-year-old I saw myself as grown up. I would soon graduate and be on my way to college. But over Mr. Harris' knee all I would be seen as a naughty little boy. Despite myself, I whimpered, "Please, I don't want this."

He then proceeded to launch into a lengthy lecture about how inappropriate my behavior was and all the time while doing this he was rubbing my butt with his hand. This caused my recently developed spanking fantasies to emerge full-blown, punctuated by an erection.

My state of arousal did not go unnoticed by Mr. Harris who remarked, "It seems like you like the idea of being spanked."

I said, "No, I don't."

Mr. Harris laughed, "Your mouth says no but your little dick says yes." He told me spankings should never be hurried and he slowly started to spank my young bare butt. He was a man who spent his entire life working with his hands which were as hard as the wood that he worked with.

While I was in this humiliating position reality set in. I'm not a little boy. But I'm being spanked like one. My recent spanking fantasies were fun but being spanked for real by Mr. Harris hurt like Hell. My butt was stinging and burning but the same time I was beginning to feel an intense level of sexual arousal, not unlike what I experience when engaging my fear play.

When he said spankings should not be rushed, he meant it. He would slap my butt, then rub it, slap and rub, again and again. Right cheek, left cheek, up and down, a slow methodical pattern, leaving me gasping in pain.

Mr. Harris stopped spanking for a while but kept rubbing and squeezing my now burning butt cheeks. He said, "We're getting some nice color and heat on that little butt."

He then reached down and put his hand on the head of my cock and that's when I realized there was a prodigious amount of pre-cum dripping out of me. He put his hand back on my butt and spread my cheeks apart and rubbed my own pre-cum on my anus. I was shocked and my body stiffened and shuddered at his touch. An involuntary moan came out of my mouth.

Mr. Harris resumed his lecture and the spanking. This time he told me and because what I had been doing was illegal, I could be sent to prison. He said, "Being a nice-looking, small white young boy, prison is not a place you want to be." He then asked me, "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Having seen movies about prison I said, "Yeah, guys get beat up." Mr. Harris laughed and I couldn't understand what was funny about someone getting beat up.

The spanking went on and on which soon reduced me to uncontrollable crying like a little boy. Given the slow and methodical pace coupled with my stinging, burning butt it was more than I could handle. I lost total control, pleading him to stop, saying repeatedly, "Please I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

My pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. I was getting no sympathy from Mr. Harris. By this time, I had quit struggling and I was lying limply over his lap, quietly sobbing. There was nothing in my world except the spanking. I thought it would never end.

Much to my relief he suddenly stopped. He pulled me up and made me stand before him. I immediately grabbed my butt and started rubbing, because it hurt so bad. I noticed I had an erection.

Mr. Harris ordered me to put my hands on my head. He reached out and took my cock in his hand and said, "I knew you like getting spanked," to which I had no reply. He said, 'Stay right where you are and I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth."

He made me maintain eye contact which was terribly uncomfortable given that I was still erect. He didn't say a word. My butt hurt so bad that I was involuntarily wiggling it around, causing my cock and balls to bounce around. This went on for a good 5 minutes or more, but it seemed like an eternity. At least my spanking was over.

Then put his hand on my arm and said, "Okay it's paddle time." I felt my heart drop when he said those words, and when I started to plead with him, he reminded me of our deal and the consequences of resistance. My mind was reeling in panic. After what I had been through, I couldn't stand a paddling too but I had no option.

He led me over to his workbench and made me bend over it while he searched through his supply of boards to find a suitable implement. He came back with one and told me that it was fairly lightweight so it wouldn't cause serious bruises but it would sting and burn beyond belief. That wasn't much consolation to me.

He told me I would be getting ten swats and he expected me to cooperate fully. He also said, "If you get out of position I'll start over."

Mr. Harris rubbed the board against my butt and then took it away. Then without warning a swat landed on my butt that sounded like a gunshot. I let out a scream, kicked my legs and thrashed. I was immediately reduced to tears.

After about 30 seconds, when I'd settled down a bit, a second swat landed which was even more intense than the first. This evoked even more strident screams on my part and more thrashing about. On the third swat I jumped up a grabbed my butt, whimpering, "No more please, I can't take it."

Mr. Harris said, "Well now we start over, unless you want me to call the police."

Bring myself to bend back over that workbench was probably was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I was shaking, He then fired off three very hard swats in about 3 seconds, This, sent over the edge into pure hysteria. I was blubbering in pain. The sting was horrible but it dissipated rather quickly. In contrast the burning became only became worse and didn't abate. My butt was on fire. I was now back to facing the original ten.

Perhaps it was because my butt was becoming numb or because Mr. Harris lightened up, or both but the remaining swats while still quite painful did not seem quite as bad. I made it through, it was over. But not quite.

Mr. Harris told me to stay right where I was and went into a bathroom that was in the basement. He emerged a minute later and set a bottle of hand lotion on the workbench. I thought he was going to put it on my butt to ease the pain. I was wrong.

Mr. Harris lubed up his fingers and inserted one up my butt working it in and out. Then he inserted a second finger. I could believe he was doing that to me. I was totally humiliated. By this time, I'd stopped crying and I started moaning, the sensation was so intense.

He said to me, "I was giving serious consideration to fucking your cute little red butt, but I'm not going to do that. You were wrong about what can happen to a young boy in prison." He added, "While you're going through the indignity of being fingered, I want you to think about what could happen if you keep running around with no pants on. I want you to think about being bent over a prison bunk with some big hairy guy putting his dick up your butt. while another guy has his dick in your mouth. You think you would like that?" I was speechless.

He reached around and cupped his hand over the head of my cock while he continued to move his fingers around in my butt. No longer able to control myself I screamed out as I ejaculated an incredible load into his hand. He then rubbed my semen all over my genitals and badly battered butt and said, "Okay go home now and think about what happened here."

I left his house without another word being said. It was an uncomfortable walk home. My butt was still burning, it was swollen, very sore and quite sticky. That night I had to sleep on my stomach. Mr. Harris was right there were no bruises but sitting down required a pillow the next day.

I was confused but also thankful he did not call the police. I also came to the realization that as painful as the spanking was, it turned me on. I liked being spanked and found myself wondering what it would have been like if Mr. Harris had decided to fuck me. Sometimes I would spank myself but it was nothing like Mr. Harris' lesson.

As years passed, I came to realize that going out with no pants on was stupid and risky but that decision and what happened with Mr. Harris had a profound influence on turns me on.