Confessions of a Spanking Addict – Part 2

Confessions of a Spanking Addict Part II
Anticipation

It’s the anticipation. It always has been I guess. The anticipation of being spanked is what really
does it to me. Even as a child or young teen, knowing that I was going to get it, and then thinking
about what was going to happen to me would make me incredibly excited. As I said before, I
didn’t understand what I was feeling, but I sure as hell enjoyed it. And the longer the anticipation,
the more excited I got. The spankings themselves, even though they hurt something fierce, were
exciting, but it was the anticipation of the event; knowing I was in for a bottom warming; knowing
when it was going to happen; thinking about how it was going to be done; picturing myself in
position over my daddy’s lap, my bottom bared to receive the punishing smack of his hand;
thinking about how many spanks I was going to receive. For me–as a girl, a young teen, and even
now–the anticipation of a spanking was, and still is, the most exciting thing I can think of.
And the longer my anticipation, the more excited I got. In fact, it’s those times when the
anticipation was extended for some long period, that I can remember the most vividly. I already
told you about the one spanking I remember clearly–the one right after my 12th birthday, but
there are several others that really stand out in my mind. One of those spankings took place when I
was about thirteen.
It involved my cousin Sarah. Sarah and I were in the same classes at the middle school. We
were both really good students except in Science. I was barely a B student and Sarah had trouble
getting Cs. So when it came to tests, we both would panic. Now, let me just mention the fact that
it had been about two months since my mom or dad had given me any kind of serious spanking.
Actually, Mom didn’t spank me at all any more. She left that up to my dad. Anyway, it had been
about two months since I had been soundly spanked, and I was itching for one big time. Oh, I had
gotten a few swats on my jeans a couple of times, and my dad had even put me over his knee once
or twice for maybe ten spanks on the seat of my panties. But nothing in the way of a serious fanny
smacking. So, like I said, I was itching for one.
Two other things you should know. First, I was beginning to figure out that the excitement
I felt was centered in a very small part of my anatomy. I still hadn’t figured out what to do about
it, but that was coming soon. Second, my cousin Sarah was an instigator. She had this certain
knack for getting both of us into a whole lot of trouble. Anyway, back to what got me in trouble in
the first place.
One Friday, Mr. Marks, my science teacher, announced that there was going to be a test
on Monday morning. Groans and moans about the weekend were lost on him, as he proceeded to
tell us what was going to be on the test. Class ended, School ended for the week, and Sarah and I
got on the bus for home. On the way home we talked about boys–our favorite topic, plans for the
weekend, and the need to study for the science test. Sarah told me she wasn’t planning to study.
She told me she had figured out how to pass without studying–she was going to make a cheat
sheet!

“Sarah! You can’t do that! What if you get caught!?”

“But I’m not going to get caught. And I’m not going to fail another test either! Look
Michelle, I have to get a good grade. My dad will kill me if I fail another test.”

“Sarah, your dad will kill you if he finds out you cheated.”

“But he’s not noing to find out, is he!? Look, you can’t afford to fail either. Why don’t you
come over tonight, and we’ll make the cheat sheets together?”

“I dunno Sarah. If we get caught, we’re gonna be in an awful lot of trouble.”

Well, to make a long story short, Sarah convinced me to try it, and I went over that night to make
the cheat sheet. It was a good one, too. We made them on computer, then reduced the type size so
that we could still read it, but the paper was real small. The whole time we were doing it though, I
was thinking if we get caught, I am going to get the spanking of my life. And thinking about that
just set my heart to pounding.
Monday came and so did the test. Sarah and I had prepared the cheat sheets well. I had
every answer on the test. The period ended and we started out of class–until Mr. Marks called us
back.

“Sarah and Michelle, could I see the two of you for a moment, please?”

What could he want, I thought. We walked over to his desk. He sat there, just looking at the two
of us. He was holding our tests. Each one had a big red zero on the top!

“Would the two of you like to hand over those cheat sheets now, or do you want to wait
until we go down to the principal’s office?”

My heart sank to my knees. On the way down, it passed through my tummy and left me with the
sure knowledge that I was in big trouble. I began to anticipate my certain future. Sarah tried to
tough it out.

“What cheat sheets? Why do you think we were cheating?”

“Well, gee, Sarah, I don’t know. Maybe because I watched the two of you use them all
period. Come on girls, you’ve got to get better at this if you’re going to try to fool me.”

With that he flipped open each of our science books that were laying on his desk and there lay the
incriminating evidence.

“So, girls, how do you want to play this? Gonna confess and take your lumps, or are you
going to continue to try to tough it out?”

We both just stood there staring at our feet. I honestly thought I was going to start crying. Sarah
did.

“Please Mr. Marks, don’t tell my parents! They’ll kill me!”

“Well, Sarah, I doubt very much that they’ll kill you. But I do have to tell them, and I am
sure there will be some severe consequences. Let’s go down to the office now, please. I
want to call your parents. They’ll have to come pick the two of you up.”

Anticipation! I was scared to death. My heart was pounding. My hands were sweating.
And that old familiar tingling was starting down there below my tummy. Mr. Marks stood up and
escorted us to the door. All the way down the hallway to the office, Sarah kept sniffling and
pleading for Mr. Marks not to call her parents. Funny, she only seemed concerned with herself at
that point. I, on the other hand, was beginning to picture my future. I knew it was not going to be
pleasant, but it was something I deserved, needed, and wanted!
Well, we got to the office, and he called our parents. We listened to his side of the
conversations with growing trepidation. Sarah continued to cry. I finally had enough and turned to
her.

“Sarah, knock it off! Your mom and dad aren’t going to kill you! You know that. The
worst that’s going to happen is you’re gonna get spanked. So just knock it off, will you!”

That made things worse. Turns out, my darling cousin knew that was exactly what was going to
happen to her–and worse. Seems my aunt and uncle had an old wooden hairbrush that Sarah was
quite familiar with. Truth be told, however, there was no spanking they could administer with that
hairbrush that could even come close to what my dad could give with just his hand.
Anyway our parents came to the school, and we were each ushered into the principal’s
office for a meeting. Sarah went in first. I could only hear muffled words coming out, but it was
obvious that Sarah was getting chewed out pretty good by her dad. I did however, clearly hear
one thing that Sarah said.

“Noooooo, Dadddeeeeeee! Pleeeeeeeease! I won’t ever do it again! I’m really sorry!
Pleeeeeeease Daddeeeeeee!”

Then there was the sound of shuffling, the door opened, and Sarah and my Uncle came out. He
did not look happy. Sarah looked downright scared and was crying. Uncle John had Sarah by the
hand and lead her out to the car. Then it was my turn. My dad and I went into the principal’s
office. I stared at the floor and listened as Mr. Marks told my Dad what had happened. I watched
in utter dismay as he handed my dad the cheat sheet. I looked at my dad and saw that he didn’t
look angry. He looked very sad. I started to cry.

Then my dad said the words that I knew–and hoped–were coming.

“Well, young lady. You know you’re in a whole lot of trouble don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I think you know what’s going to happen to you when we get home don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh, my god! I was just about dying. I could not believe how excited I was at the same time I was
so scared. I was picturing very clearly now what lay in store for me. I almost didn’t hear what my
dad said next.

“Well, then I think it’s only fair that you tell Mr. Marks what is going to happen to you.”

“Daddy, nooo, pleeeease. I don’t want to do that. Please don’t make me.”

“Michelle Elizabeth! This is not a request! You will tell Mr. Marks right now. And then
you will apologize to him for cheating!”

This had not been part of what I was anticipating. Being spanked in the privacy of my own home
was one thing. Having to tell my cute, young, male teacher that I was going to be spanked was
something else entirely. I bit my knuckle, started to cry, and turned to my dad for a reprieve. He
shook his head and motioned for me to tell Mr. Marks.

“NOW, Michelle Elizabeth!”

I jumped at his tone. I turned to Mr. Marks, turned bright red, and said the words that I normally
found so exciting.

“I’m gonna get a spanking. I’msorryMr.MarksIwon’teverdoitagain!”

I wanted the floor to just swallow me. But strangely, I realized I was even more excited than
before. I just could not understand this at all. But, now, all I could think of was getting home, so
that my dad could start spanking me. He took me by the hand and we walked out of the principal’s
office. All the way out to the car and almost all the way home, my dad didn’t say a word to me. It
was a lonnnnnnnng ride home. Actually, it was  a long ride. We lived about ten miles from the
school and it took about 20 minutes to get home. By the time we were about half way home, I was
doing some serious knuckle chewing as well as some serious squirming in my seat. About a mile
from our house, my dad finally spoke.

“I’m very disappointed with you Micki.”

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. Really I am. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

“I believe you, honey, but I am still going to spank you.”

“I know.”

“The question is just how much and how hard I’m going to spank you. What do you think
I should do?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, maybe you should think about it. I want to know what you think you deserve.”

I was dying with excitement, and this was just making it more intense. The anticipation of what
was going to happen to me in the next hour had me squirming with the most intense encitement I
had ever experienced. I thought hard while we were stopped at a light. As we pulled away, I had
made my mind up about what I wanted to say.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Micki?”

“What Sarah and I did was really wrong, so I ….uh…..I……uh…..I guess I deserve to be
spanked really hard for a really long time.”

“I see. Do you think that maybe I should use your mom’s hairbrush this time?”

“I’d rather you use your hand, Daddy. Please.”

“OK, I’ll use my hand. Hmmmm, let’s see. I think the most spanks I’ve ever given you was
about 150. Do you think that’s enough this time?”

My heart was pounding like crazy. All this talk about my impending spanking was making me
more and more excited all the time. For reasons I didn’t then understand, I wanted to put my hand
between my legs and rub myself. I whispered my answer.

“I guess not.”

“I don’t think so either, Micki. In fact, I think maybe this spanking ought to be about
double that.”

Three hundred spanks! I was going to be sore for a week. I whispered again.

“Are you going to do it on my bare bottom?”

“What do you think, Micki? Is that what you deserve?”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

End of Part II