My own personal experience tells me that this "special interest" starts very early on. One of the most vivid experiences in my own memory came from a purely happenstance minor event when I was only thirteen or fourteen (in the seventh or eighth grade). I had gone over to my closest friend's house to play and was asked to stay over for dinner. So I called home and got permission to have dinner at David's, a common enough event since we spent nearly every day over the summer together. It was the summer of 1960. A very good year. A year of beginnings.
When David's mother called us in to wash up for dinner, we went into the upstairs bathroom and I innocently asked him about this wide leather strap hanging from a robe hook on the back of the door. He seemed to blush a little in embarrassment and told me it was his father's razor strop. Since I had never seen one before, I took it from the hook while he washed his hands. He looked at me in the mirror and told me that was what his dad used to give him a licking. I was impressed! Probably picking up on my awe, David said it was hanging there because he had not yet put it away from a spanking the night before. I hung it back on the hook and took my place washing while he dried his hands. He closed the door quietly, then turned his back to me, and peeled his shorts down enough so I could see: there were still a few light pink marks left by the strap from the night before. He told me his father had required him to take his pants down for a strapping. Then he had to kneel on the edge of the bathtub and lean forward, resting his hands on the bottom of the tub. His telling of this little ritual had a strange, erotic effect on me.
As we walked down the stairs I sneaked a brief rub through my pocket on the erection which had sprouted from David's tale of woe. At that point in my life I really didn't even know what an erection was, just some really intense, good feelings "down there." While we ate I couldn't resist slipping one hand under the table to sneak a rub. David's eyes told me he had some suspicion something was going on when I ever so carefully tried to steer the conversation toward misbehavior and punishment. His father, however, did not take the bait. After dinner we jumped on our bikes and rode down to the lake. We hid our bikes in a clump of woods, then traipsed off to our usual haunt, a "cave" we had discovered which was nearly invisible from more than ten feet away because of the tall sand grasses growing at its entrance.
This "cave" was actually a vertical sand dune we had scraped into the side of the hill. Once inside we snuggled into the sand, David pulled out a dirty magazine he had lifted from his cousin. So we gawked at these huge breasted women three times our age and made what we thought would be the most lewd-and most cool--comments.
"You were playin' with your hard on under the table during dinner, weren't you"" he asked with a knowing smirk.
"What are you talkin' about"" I answered, not sure just what a "hard on" was.
"Bull," he answered. "You got a hard on when we were washing up, you pervert, and then you played with it while we were eating." He looked at me with that steely, I-dare-you look. "C'mon, take it out and show me what you got. Jerk off for me," he taunted. That was another term I hadn't heard before, "jerk off." "If you want to know," he continued, "the reason I got a lickin' last night was my dad caught me jerking off. I don't usually get the strap with my pants down, but, boy, was my ol' man hot. He gave me the hardest whipping I've ever gotten."
That did it. Once again the hard lump strained against my fly, giving me away. I watched as David unzipped and popped out his _c_o_c_k_, proudly hard and standing tall. He wrapped his fingers around it and began softly to tug on it. So I did the same: unzipped my pants, popped mine out, and started to give it a rub. It felt unbelievably good, and I watched him start to pull harder and faster on his, his eyes still locked on mine.
"If my ol' man ever caught me," I said as I felt my belly start to thrust out to meet my fist, "I'd likely get it good with his belt." It was a lie, pure bravado. My father had paddled me a few times, but not very hard, and never with my pants down. I watched as David contined to jerk off, now oblivious of me. And I thought of myself in his place, kneeling over that tub, bared backside waiting for the razor strop. We both came about the same time, spurting little dribbles into the sand. My fascination with spanking-and relating it to erotic feelings-dates, I think, to this unsought, brief boyhood episode.
"Doesn't seem like that spanking taught you much," I giggled, looking at his still half erect penis.
"Taught me not to jerk off at home, I'll tell you that!" He flipped his _d_i_c_k_ around, inspecting it, then stuffed it back into his pants, and zipped up. "I don't plan on another trip to the bathroom for a second dose, that's for sure. Geez! " He tossed some sand over the telltale dark spot between his knees. "Girls are lucky: they don't get caught cause you can't really tell they're doin' it."
"How do you know""
"Cause my cousin told me--and showed me."
"Now who's full of bull"" I asked. "I bet your cousin showed you. Sure she did." For the life of me I could not imagine what he was even talking about since I barely knew anything about myself. I did know girls didn't have one of those things which I found so much fun. "You want to bet me"" David was always ready with the dare. And he lost about as many of these bets as he won. So I bit.
"Bet you! " I answered the challenge. "What's the bet""
"I prove to you my cousin showed me how she does it and you have to show her how you do it. If I can't prove it, I'll jerk off at high noon right out there in full view on the beach any day you name." Boy, he meant it this time. Those were high stakes. But he knew I couldn't back down now.
"It's a bet," I said, not giving any thought to what I might be getting into. "OK, I'll let you know when I can set it up. The next time Julie comes over, I'll be sure you're around and then we can go out to the woods so no one sees."
"And if she says you're full of it," I reminded him, " you're comin' down here and do it right out on the beach in broad daylight, moron."
"What you don't know is that I've already talked to her and she wants to see a boy do it so bad, she's willing to go first, believe me. I don't make bets I can't win."
"We'll see, won't we," I shot back, feeling a little weak in the knees now that I knew he had set me up for the one hundredth time. It wasn't long before my foolhardy bet came back on me. A few days later David told me at recess his cousins were coming over the next Saturday and Julie was not only willing to back up his boast, she was willing to show me how she did it, too. Provided, of course, I would honor my end of the bet. Dare was more like it. Like any smart aleck thirteen year old I had a mouth ten times the size of my brain so I smiled and said "see you on Saturday." When I think back on it now I can't believe I did that because at the time I really wasn't sure how to jack myself off with any skill. As best I can remember these earliest experiences. I didn't even initiate them.
These feelings just kind of came over me and I would lay on my bed on my stomach and slide back and forth as long as it felt better and better, then something would suddenly change and I'd stop. I don't even remember there being much of a mess with semen at the beginning although I did produce a good wet spot in my pants. Had to watch out for that.
Saturday came and I jumped on my bike and road over to David's. Sure enough, that particular group of cousins which included Julie were already there and she was sitting on the front porch to greet me. Julie was two years older that us, probably fourteen at the time, and a real beauty. Tall, thin, blond haired, and blue eyed, Julie was an athlete and a flirt.
"I hear we're going on a little hike, today," she said pertly as I walked up the front walk. "Davey says you and I are going to see who's got the guts to do it." Part taunt, part invitation, part dare: Julie put the hook in and set it just in case I had shown up with cold feet.
"Yeah, well, we'll just see, won't we!" was all I could think of to throw back to her. At that age in my group we were _s_e_x_ually illiterate: I was definitely in over my head and had no way out. So I desperately thought of possibilities but came up with nothing that would let me save face and get out of this with honor. It also never occurred to me I might now be able to "perform" on cue since I had so little experience with all this. Then terror suddenly struck: what if we got caught? That had never occurred to me either. This whole thing was looking blacker by the minute.
"You just make sure you keep your mouth shut about this," I whispered to her with some feigned authority, "because anyone finds out . . ..." I let my voice deliver what I thought was a threat to her well being. I thought of that razor strop hanging in the bathroom, and the state of my friend's backside after his last session with it.
"If anyone finds out, it won't be because of me," she hissed. Then she smiled sweetly. "I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this."" Here was this fifteen year old turning all the charms of Eve and the snake on me to lure me into the woods and display my nakedness! Still, the forbidden fruit of it all stirred an excitement which, to my embarrassment, showed up as a lump standing out against my jeans.
"Gawd, you are up for this, aren't you," she snickered, looking down at my lump. Then she quickly looked around to see that no one was looking and grabbed my penis through the thick denim, giving a tug and letting me loose. "David thought you'd chicken out, but I guess he was wrong. I can't wait till you show me how you do it. I've never seen a boy do it," she whispered. And she lightly touched my ear with her lips making my discomfort even worse.
"Well, you'll see plenty," I said with as much false courage as I could muster. "And a deal's a deal, Julie. You go first, you know." Just thinking of her with her pants down actually frightened me somewhat. It's one thing to talk big when you're thirteen and don't know anything; it's quite another to have to face the unknown of _s_e_x_ for the first time with an audience, no less. I hadn't even played doctor with the girls in the neighborhood like everyone else my age had done. So I had no idea what a naked girl would look like, let alone what she might do. Still, it all seemed to be going along quite easily and naturally-and it sure was exciting! And this was, after all, his cousin, so I figured we could at least all trust each other to keep the whole thing secret.
After an hour or so of the usual kind of chasing around the house and yard, David, Julie, and I slipped out of the backyard into the woods and left David's sister and Julie's brother behind. About ten minutes into the woods we left the path and David led us to a small hollow between two huge oaks where there was plenty of ground foliage to hide behind. The moment of truth (and terror, for me) had come. Julie carefully scanned the entire area in silence and David and I sat down on a the trunk of a fallen tree. After she was satisfied no one had followed us, she stood right in front of me, hands on her hips.
"All right, Mister, it's time to put up. Let's see what you've got in your pants there. And let's see how you play with it."
"Oh, no," I answered, my face beet red. "The deal is that you go first, Julie." A classic stand-off.
Julie stood there for about twenty or thirty seconds, glaring. Then she smiled and pulled her skirt up around her waist revealing her white panties. Holding the skirt up with one hand, she slowly peeled her panties down with the other until they were rolled into a band across her thighs, her mound now bared. We stared and said nothing, in shock. Not much to look at, that's for sure! Then she started the show by slipping her index finger into her nondescript slit and wriggling it back and forth, up and down. She seemed to be enjoying the show for us as much as we were enthralled by her striptease. Soon she started moving her finger faster. Then faster. And finally she seemed to jerk a bit and then she stopped, dropping her skirt back down to end the brief show. Not a word had passed between any of us during these few minutes of revelation, but we all knew that somehow we had just passed to some new stage in life. By the time Julie had finished her show my lump was straining at my shorts; when I looked at David, the same could be seen in his jeans.
"Told you so," David whispered in my ear in all the arrogance he could muster. "You didn't believe me, did you, sucker. Well, I win the bet. And now it's your turn."
"You can stand right here," Julie said as she moved toward us to take a seat on the log next to David. "And you had better put on a good show, too." She snapped off a green switch from a willow behind the oak and brandished at me like a sword. "You either honor your bet and put on a good show or David and I will see to it you won't sit down for a week! "
So I, unzipped my cut-off jeans and started to fumble around with my briefs to get my erection out.
"Oh, no you don't. We want to see everything. I took mine down and you take your pants down," Julie said with authority.
So I unbuckled my belt and let my shorts fall to my ankles, then tugged my briefs down to my knees, baring everything for them. My newly sprouted manhood stood at attention but I could not bear to look at either of them.
"C'mon, get with it. Play with it," she taunted. "If you won't, I will!" That did it. I grabbed myself and began to pump away, closing my eyes in embarrassment.
Within seconds I began to have the belly rolling feeling which comes just before the little spasm and suddenly I felt a wicked sting on the leg. Julie had lashed out with her switch and caught me across the backs of my thighs. That was it. She giggled in glee as I spurted my little load out onto the forest floor at her feet. Then I looked up and saw her younger brother Danny staring down at us from above our little hollow, terror and confusion immobilizing him temporarily. But before I could even react he was off, running pell mell back to the house. We were, I knew instantly, all done if he so much as said a word to David's parents.
Neither David nor Julie had seen him and I decided I'd try to find Danny and bribe him big time to head off any trouble if it wasn't too late. So I wiped off my _d_i_c_k_, yanked my briefs and shorts into place, and the three of us started back to David's house. By the time we got there I was probably shaking in fear, but I still hoped that perhaps Danny either had not made his way back yet or had and had not said anything. That hope evaporated when we came into the yard and I saw him talking with my aunt and uncle on the back porch. As soon as Danny saw us, he ran into the house for cover. They waited for us on the porch, David and Julie still not knowing we had been seen and snitched on.
Mrs. B. briefly disappeared through the screen door into the kitchen, but had returned to the porch by the time the three of us warily approached. It did not look good. "Julie, you come with me for a minute, please," my aunt said in a voice which boded ill for all of us. "We have something to discuss." "And you boys can wait right here," my uncle added ominously. "We have something to discuss as well." Already I could see myself bending over the tub for a whipping with the razor strop.
David's mother held the door open and Julie, her lip quivering, went through it into the kitchen. When his mother followed I saw the long wooden spoon in her hand. Julie, it appeared, was about to make her acquaintance with the wooden spoon.
"Do you boys want to give me some kind of explanation for what Danny just told me"" he asked. The look on his face told us he really wasn't interested in explanations right now.
"No sir," I mumbled, eyes to the ground, and David echoed my feeble reply.
"So you admit to this, . . . this . . . outrageous behavior""
"Yes, sir," from both of us. We were already convicted: the best we could do now was cooperate with the executioner and throw ourselves on the mercy of the court, if there was to be any. And I knew I might as well take my medicine right now since, even if I was remanded over to the custody of my father for punishment, it wouldn't be any easier at home. We both stood there in silence hearing the unmistakable sharp whack of the wooden spoon followed by Julie's howl. Then another crack, another howl. Craaaaack! Screeeech! On and on it went for what was beginning to seem like eternity. From the sound of it she must have been taking her spanking in the kitchen. In a brief lull I could hear the lecture being delivered in a raised but still controlled voice. Then the walloping continued.
"When your mother and I are finished with Julie, you can go down the basement to my workshop," he said, looking straight at me, "and you," he continued, looking now at David, "can get the strap from the bathroom and join him. I'm meaning to give you boys a licking you'll not soon forget."
That said, he turned to join the howling commotion in the kitchen. But before he went through the back door, he unbuckled his belt, pulled it free, and doubled into a loop. Then he went into the kitchen to complete Julie"s spanking. Once again it got deathly quiet and we could barely hear his voice, not able to make out what he was saying to poor, belabored cousin Julie. Then came the splaaat of the belt finding Julie"s already scalded backside. After six or eight more cracks all was quiet save for the near hysterical but subdued sobs coming from within. We waited a few more minutes and I followed David into the kitchen. As I walked across the kitchen toward the doorway to the basement stairs I could see Julie huddled into the far corner at the edge of the table, a pair of panties puddled on the floor at her feet. I was thankful she didn't see me, and quickly tiptoed down the stairs to the workshop in the basement.
David went on his errand to get the means of our punishment. When David joined me he laid the razor strop on his dad's workbench and pulled a sturdy saw horse out from under the table saw which he set into the middle of the open space in the shop.
He whispered to me: "The best we can do now is cooperate. The only thing you say is "Yes, sir!" and "No, Sir!" You agree with whatever he says whether you actually do or not, and you do whatever he says whether you want to or not. If you don't, well, . . .."
"Well, what""
"Just do what I tell you, believe me. Have you ever had a lickin' with the razor strop."
"No," I answered, "and I'm not looking forward to it, either."
"Just grab hold of that bottom bar, there," he said, pointing to a cross brace between two angled legs "and don't let go for anything. You think you're going to die, but you won't. And after a few licks it gets a little easier. But remember: "Yes, sir!" "No, sir!" and do what he says."
We could hear the footsteps across the ceiling above us, then coming down the basement stairs. He came into the workshop, took the strap from the workbench, and just glared at us in silence for thirty seconds or so.
"Is there any reason why I shouldn't give each of you a good, hard whipping""
"No, sir," David responded quickly.
He took me firmly by the arm and marched me over to the corner. "You can stay right there till it's your turn, young man." Then he turned to David.
"Come over here," he said, pointing to the sawhorse. David took his place at the end of the horse, his back to his father who stood behind him with the strap hanging menacingly from his right hand. "Take your pants down and bend over." David unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down to his knees, then bent across the wooden trestle with only his cotton briefs for cover.
"I said take your pants down." David stood and peeled his briefs down to bare his backside, then once again bent across the horse. I noticed he was actually starting to get another hard on and thought to myself that his father would kill him if he saw it. But his father was busy taking a place back and to the side, mentally measuring the target. Then he pulled the razor strop back and swished it home with a loud craaaack.
"The next time you think you'd like to play doctor with someone," he said, whistling the strap across poor David's buttocks a second time, "think about this." A third hard lick, then a fourth. "If I ever have to punish you for this kind of thing again," craaack! "You can expect twice what you're getting this time." Whoosh, smaaack!
The lecture and the strapping continued at a slow steady pace, David now bucking like a young horse with a rider aboard for the first time. All I could think of was that I was next. My hands were starting to shake, tears welled up in my eyes, and I nearly bolted for the door. He stopped for a brief minute and looked over at me. Then he moved to the other side and resumed the licking, now whaling the strap across with his backhand. All the while David held onto the bar for dear life, squealing "Yes, sir!" and "No, sir!" and "Pleeease no more, sir!"
After a good twenty-five licks, it was over. And David gingerly stood up, tugged his briefs and jeans up, then hobbled over toward me. I took his place at the end of the horse, shaking.
"Take your pants down, boy!" came the order. So I did as told and bared my butt, scared to death. "Bend over for your punishment."
I did as ordered. And he gave me the same wicked strapping he had just given David. I had no idea a spanking could hurt so much. But then I'd never gotten one with a razor strop, either. I held on for all I could, yelping for mercy each time he lashed the strap down across my scalded backside. And David stood in the corner watching me take this licking just as I had watched him take his. He had lied when he said it got easier after the first few cracks; it just got worse and worse as far as I could tell. Then, suddenly, it was over.
David's father put the strap back on the bench and left without saying a word. I just lay there across that saw horse, tears rolling down my face, in silence. But I also had this strange, strange feeling "down there" and when I stood up, my erection shocked me. When I looked over to David, he was now hard and had wrapped his fist around his and began to stroke himself, looking straight at me al the while.
"Makes me feel much better," he whispered. Then he gently pumped several times. "Much, much better. Just watch."
Fascinated at this completely unexpected turn, I watched him continue to increase the speed of his stroking, the hard purple head straining to break free of his fist. Now his hips began to rock a bit, his knees bent into a slight crouch, and then, suddenly, he began to spurt and shoot little white missiles out onto the basement floor. Each seem to shoot further until the last nearly hit my shoe. I was both fascinated and terrified since I knew the disaster he was courting with his father still upstairs of us. After shooting out onto the floor, his gently fondled himself, squeezing the last drops out and kneading his testicles while his erection began to flag. He looked at me with this huge grin, his backside still on fire from the whipping he'd gotten for doing just what he had now done again! I heard the ominous sounds of footsteps above our heads. Then they stopped.
"Well, idiot, come on! Let's see what you got!" he challenged softly. "First, turn round and let me see the damage."
So I turned my back to him and bent forward, showing off my red badges of courage. Then I straightened up and turned back to face him, my erection now full. And I closed my eyes and began to play with myself for his benefit, mirroring what I had seen him do minutes earlier. It didn't take long until I spewed every thing out on the floor with a groan. When I felt his hand on my sac, my eyes flew open and he gently squeezed out one last spasmodic spurt which shot across toward the work bench where the razor strop still lay.
"See," he whispered into my ear, " I told you it would feel much better." Then David gently milked me of anything left, grabbed a rag from a box under the bench, and knelt to mop up the telltale spots on the basement floor. "Feeling better"" he asked with a smirk.
After he mopped up and I had pulled my pants back into place, I asked him to turn round (as he had asked me) to see the damage. He returned to the end of the sawhorse and once again bent across it to put his butt on display for my inspection. He backside was a deep, deep red from the top of his hips down to the tops of his thighs and there were dark purple stripes about two inches wide crisscrossing in every direction. On the sides of his hips dark thin lines marked where the tip of the strap had snapped and left welts. After taking a close look, I could not help but to put my fingers on the marks and lightly trace them. I was impressed. So I went over to the bench and took the strap just to see what could have brought such fire to his rear-and mine. David got dressed and then the two of us went back upstairs where I put the strap back in the bathroom.
Then we quietly slipped out of the house and went looking for cousin Julie. It was a coming out of sorts for both of us and an incident we frequently reminisced about fondly in later years. We never did find Julie that day-apparently she had run home-or talk about the incident with her. But I have little doubt she, too, remembered that day for the rest of her life. You only grow up once and the _s_e_x_ual milestones are the most painful and the most memorable. This one was both.
This particular incident also marked a watershed in the way my own father punished me at home. David's father did call my dad that day and the next time I visited my father's workshop in the basement for some behavior modification I discovered the paddle had been replaced with his own razor strop. Although I can smile about it now, it wasn't funny then!