Excellent F/M Spanking Story

I’m one of those people who have been into spanking ever
since I hit puberty.  I spent years making myself crazy,
feeling guilty about my interests, trying to figure out why
I was so into spanking and being spanked and futile
attempts to “cure myself.”  
Imagine my delight when I discovered *** *** and
their annual parties that began here in *** ***. 
I was really too shy at first to do more than watch and yearn
to be spanked. 
But at one of the early parties, I met this switchy woman
from *** *** named L who loved doing role play. 
Her energy and demeanor were so wonderfully innocent
and child-like, even when she was topping (she really knew
how to turn a naughty boy’s bottom beet red), that it really
felt like two kids playing.  All of a sudden, I realized
that I could just relax and enjoy my spanking experiences
for what they were.
As much as I loved playing with L, I was still yearning
for the kind of spanking that would bring me to tears like
a little boy.  That came a few years later when I met J
on Prodigy, an early competitor to AOL.  When we met,
J had no RL experience giving or receiving spankings. 
But she was an enthusiastic student and for quite a while,
we would meet at least once a month to spank each other.
A typical session would begin with me peeled down to my
briefs as I lay across her bare thighs.  She liked to start things
off by spanking my cotton clad bottom, periodically slipping
her hand through the leg band to feel the warmth she was
generating.  Soon enough, the instruction came to lift my
 hips so she could not just lower my underpants, but slide
them down my legs until they were at my ankles.

It only took a few sessions for J to learn how to effectively
use her hand on my bare bottom.  Those slaps had quite a
sting to them.  But I have a tough hide, especially emotionally. 
So after a good 15 minutes or more of solid hand spanking,
she would put me in the corner to “stew in my own juices,”
as she liked to say.  Even though Corner Time was usually
less than 15 minutes, it always felt infinitely longer and had
the result of getting me deeper and deeper into a space of
surrender in anticipation of the next phase of my spanking,
which was began with her hand and progressed to this very
wicked, short handled bath brush that I dubbed the
“heavy artillery.” 
That brush had me squirming like crazy across her lap,
but in this phase of the spanking, although my emotional
walls were weakening, they weren’t down enough yet for
my tears to come.  For that, I needed to spend more time in
the corner with my red and increasingly tender bottom on
display before going over her lap for one final assault.
For the third phase of my spanking, J just went right to
the brush.  Even though she was causing me great pain in
my bottom, I could feel her love and concern for me just
flowing out, which in turn helped me feel safe enough to
finally let go and cry.  “It’s OK, sweetie,” she would gently
say as she continued to not only spank, but actually spank
harder and faster.  “Just let it all out.  You can do it.”  It
didn’t take much longer to get me bawling, all the time she
spanked with one hand, while rubbing my back with the
other.  At the end of the spanking, she just held me in her lap.
After I recovered sufficiently, it was her turn to go over my
lap for a very similar bit of OTK therapy.  Then when she
recovered, usually after a brief post-spanking nap, I would
get the second three-part spanking of the day, followed by
her second spanking  With each subsequent spanking of the
day, my tears would flow sooner and more freely and deeply. 
Those spankings gave me a much needed cathartic emotional
release, which we teasingly referred to as “emotional enemas.”
I still both smile and rub my bottom at their memory.

(Dana’s note: The asterisks are my edits – I have also edited some names for privacy.)