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The Top Spanking Challenge

This was the first time this kind of introductory class on spanking was offered at the college I attended, not by any stretch an official class, but rather a student group whose mission was to promote healthy sexual lifestyles through bondage and discipline. My first day of college this sophmore year was uneventful, boring, certainly not consumed by overwhelming sensations. But walking into the first day of spanking class, well, testosterone was raging as thoughts were ricocheting between wanting to spank some ass and not popping a huge woodie in my gym shorts.

It was hot. Many buildings way back then had natural air conditioning, meaning open the windows and hope for a breeze. So as we crowded into the small classroom, people were sweating and irritated by the situation. The instructor walked into the room, stopped, walked over to the windows and turned on a couple of fans.

The burst of air was refreshing, my eyes rolled up for a second to take in the air, and when my head lowered, I caught a fleeting glimpse of sparkling eyes, a girl was leaning over in front of me and her eyes briefly checked me out. I was at least a foot taller and my forearm hid her entirely from view until I lowered it. Her lids hid quickly and she turned her head a tiny bit, revealing piercings accenting her profile. She briefly wisped a hand through her short and brown hair before raising her chin confidently and straightening her back to look at the instructor, who began to speak.

"Welcome. To those that have never been here, please note that this class may involve nudity and physical contact, but all actions must be consensual, so ask for permission, no means no, and if you can't handle the nudity or rules, leave now."

"We're going to jump right into our first demo. Can I have two volunteers, one top, and one bottom. A top will do the spanking, a bottom will get the spanking."

Of course the whole room smiled, and the whole room blushed, and the whole room started to look around.

Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was how abruptly the instructor jumped into the topic, maybe it was just like junior high dance, nobody wanted to be the fool for the very first demo.

I raised my hand.

"You." The instructor said.

"Both of you."

He was pointing at me.

No wait, the girl in front of me had her hand up, again just below my line of sight. I guess he meant both of us. I looked down at her, she was tightly holding the hand of a girl next to her, both of their hands had turned a slightly bound color. She looked over at the girl who's eyes were scared, smiled, and then walked forward. I followed.

We walked up to the center of the room, the instructor asked, "so what are you, top or bottom?"

"Top." "Top."

She said top. We are both tops. Great. Just great. Great class. Here I am, ready to spank, like all men preoccupied with what she might look like and what might happen afterward, anticipating meeting my first bottom and falling into a love spiral of spanking eternity, and instead, I get a top.

Or even worse, the instructor decides to be a total fuckhead and make me the bottom! Fuck!

"Well, this happens all the time. The best way to learn how to be a great top is to be a good bottom. So who's going first?"

Uh... my eyes were rolling again. I hope everyone in the room can't see the expression on my face that reveals fear and loathing. I looked at her and she looked at me, she didn't look scared. Why is she not scared? She also isn't saying anything. She crossed her arms somewhere along the way and turned to face me when my eyes were rolling around the back of my empty stupid brain.

Fuck it. "I'll go first," I said.

"Great," the instructor said, "so you are the top (to her) and you need him to submit and consent to you. I'm not going to tell you how to do that. There isn't a right or wrong way."

She faces me completely and steps forward, ridiculously close and bending her head back with her chin up and back almost arched, shoulders back, in a very astute pose. "Would you consent to me spanking you?" She asked.

I was still outraged. Why the fuck would I want to bend over and take it from you. I had no idea what to do, I didn't want to leave, I wanted to spank someone...

"Make me." I whispered.

"What do you mean make me."

"I'm not going to let you spank me. You want to learn to be a top, learn how to make someone submit. Tiny." I leaned in, or rather, over her, and stared her down.

She looked confused, maybe enraged, maybe disgusted, maybe hurt. She walked over to the instructor, whispered something, he asked, "he won't?" and then walked with her over to me.

"So let me make sure you two are clear about consent. Do you consent to being spanked?" the instructor asked me.

"Yes, I do," I replied.

"That's clear. But he won't submit. You need to make him submit." The instructor walked away from her, she stood stoic and stumped.

The classroom was smiling and frowning. Half the class was probably elated that someone had the balls to say no. Half the class wanted a cute little bottom to pop up, volunteer, bend over, and save the day. I was looking around with a huge grin on my face, enjoying the monumental coup I had orchestrated to remain on top...

WHACK!

Fuck! That fucking hurt like hell! What the hell? I looked around to see who the hell just tore me a new asshole, and she was standing there, about six feet away, with a short fucking stiff leather horse riding whip. She was holding it like a baseball bat and she must have just fucking hit a home run on my ass, because my gym shorts felt like they ripped open.

For a moment, I had lost my composure. But that had to stop. I straightened up and faced her. She lowered the whip to her side and took confident steps toward me. I didn't move and stared her down again. When she was within striking distance, in one move she flicked her arm and ripped one on my exposed arm. WHIP!

"Hey! Come on, I don't want to walk into class tomorrow with whip marks all over my arms, come on, you don't..."

WHIP! She cracked my arm again. I started to back away, more like circling away as the class was all around us. "Come on, really, don't you think..."

WHIP! Again.

"Fuck! Stop! Okay. Look. I don't want to have a criss cross pattern all over my arms. I'm good. Stop. What do you want me to do?"

That hurt. That really hurt. It hurt my ego. It hurt that I was helpless, that I had been entrapped by my own showmanship, my coup d'etat ended harshly and unapologetically.

She came over, as she approached I wasn't sure if the whip was coming again, I held my arm and turned, but she was smiling instead of stern, the whip went to her other hand, and she reached out to my arm, slipped her fingers under and softly pulled, guiding me to the leather horse.

As I started to lean over the horse, I hesitated, I thought, I'm not just going to bend over this thing for her like a wimp. And just as I started to tense and resist her comforting guidance, her hand released my arm and grabbed the whip conveniently under her other arm. Fuck!

I submitted, awkwardly put my arms where it seemed like they should go, knees up and on the horse. The instructor came over, ran through the basics of spanking, put his hand over hers when he simulated spanks. Even though I had gym shorts on, I could feel her fingers, a little cool touch, resisting the instructor a little at first, but then relaxing against my shorts, stroke-by-stroke conforming to the shape of my butt. I couldn't see anything that was going on, I could only feel it and hear it, no spanking noise yet because it was all simulated. The last part of the lecture, the instructor had his hand firmly pressed against hers pressed against my butt, and as the extended monologue went on, him almost resting his weight on her hand on my butt, she was either grabbing my ass, or trying to get blood back in her hand, one or the other.

"Okay, now go ahead and try on your own."

She walked over to the head of the horse, bent over, and asked, "Do I have your consent to do whatever I want?"

"Anything you can throw at me sweetheart, give it your best shot." She can go fuck herself. Whatever she wants.

She walked back. I twerked my ass up a little to give her a good target, everyone laughed.

WHACK! What the fuck! Did the fucking instructor just kick me in the ass? I popped my head up and looked, she was standing back there with a huge paddle that had a boot print on it. She lowered the boot to her side and raised her hand, and...

WHACK. Smacked me hard with her hand right where the boot left its print, a follow up that seemed to carry flavor from the previous season. She started to rub the sore spot, and I kind of looked back, she was looking at me and smiling as she rubbed, and for the first time, ever, I felt a tingle, an excitement that I had never felt before, it was a comfort inside my stomach that fed a warm, luscious network of springs throughout my body. She hadn't noticed, but my gym shorts were a tiny bit wet in a spot, and I was confused, elated, breathless, and extremely horny.

"Was that good?" She asked the instructor.

"Great. Now, your turn."

I got up from the horse, my eyes were buggy and my chin down, I took a deep breath to gather my composure, thought for a second if anyone could see the small peak in my shorts, and then loosened my hands to get prepared for what I wanted to do next. When I looked at her, her paddles and whips were gone, thank god for that, and she was standing with her hands crossed in front of her, feet together, smiling politely.

I approached her, mostly confident, but somehow with both fear and solace from these recent moments, I flinched a little and raised my brow, her eyes were still so intense, so moving, so penetrating, even when I was in charge, and she was already in a submissive stance, she had me. All of me. Tied up in my mind.

I asked her if she would consent to spanking, she did, quickly removed her shorts, and straddled the horse.

For a moment, I didn't know what to do. Why did she remove her shorts? She was wearing nice cotton panties that hugged her skinny little ass. Why remove her shorts? To this day, I have to wonder how every moment she spent with me, she was playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse. Every action she took was planned, intentional, dominating, asserting some sense of control over me, even when I was the top, she had to push my buttons, make me unsteady and wrestling for control of cognition in favor of sexual gratification.

The instructor continued, "So this time, we're going to practice using verbal cues to control the spanking. Come up with a phrase that you want her to say, each time she says it, you spank her."

I thought for a moment, then said to her, "Say, you are in command, sir."

"Okay."

I walked around behind her, brushed my hand along her back as I went. Wow was she beautiful. Not remotely a supermodel, so much more beautiful. Her body was so tiny, yet the simple definition in her back was sculpted by a master. Her little tiny butt had a picture perfect opening between her legs where her thighs didn't touch. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and yet as my hand touched her lower back to feel her bone positions, I felt firm tone muscle everywhere.

Except where I placed my other hand. My right hand pressed against the lower part of her butt. I rubbed a bit, she was tense, very tense. She had her head turned a little toward me so she could see me and I could see her.

"You are in command, sir."

I raised my hand, she tensed, and... WHACK.

She looked forward and lifted her head and gasped. Her hands now clenched the horse a little. Her chest held her breath.

I took a moment, rubbed, watched her slowly relax back onto the horse, lower her head toward me again, and say, "You are in command, sir."

WHACK.

She didn't raise her head, and this time her eyes were closed, but her body held tensed ahead of the blow, and curled a little when it landed. Another moment to relax, then, "You are in command, sir."

WHACK. Same thing. A little faster recovery.

The instructor stepped up and interrupted, "Okay, now use the verbal command to control the intensity of the spanking. Softer voice means softer. Louder voice means harder. Tell your bottom HOW you want her to say it so you can control the scene. Her voice is the music, your hand is the dance."

"Okay," I said, eager to finally get real. I looked at her and said, "Say it nice and soft."

"You are in command, sir." I used the back of my fingertips and repeatedly whipped her one cheek. She must have been a little ticklish, because this caught her off guard and her tense muscles quickly relaxed, which I ended with a soft little tap.

"Again." I said.

"You are in command, sir." I brushed the other cheek repeatedly.

"Louder."

"You are in command, sir." Whack. A nice full hand to one cheek.

"Louder."

"You are in command, sir." Whack. A stronger hand to the other.

"Good. Nice and soft."

"You are in command, sir." I fluttered both cheeks with whipping fingers and light taps. I was watching her whole body, and trying to see what she was paying attention to. Her whole body at this point was relaxed. She had tipped her butt up ever so slightly, almost leaning into and inviting my hands. Her head was turned away, I think her eyes were closed and she was smiling. But on occasion, I could see her open her eyes and look at her girlfriend, sitting in the front watching intently, with a smile on her face, but not always smiling when she watched me.

"Louder." "You are in command, sir." Whack.

"A lot louder."

"You are in command, sir." WHACK. I could feel a little bit of sting in my hand that time. And her recently relaxed body had suddenly started to curl, her muscles ever so slightly pulling, and her hands clenching the horse again.

"Louder."

"You are in COMMAND, sir." WHACK! I landed a strong hand on her ass and it followed through, her whole body moved and I think the horse did as well. Her neck and back arched and her head dropped, her arms now pressing up slightly from the horse, her butt curled. Her girlfriend now had furled brows.

"Again!"

"You are in COMMAND, sir." WHACK! The horse definitely moved, her body curled even more to the side, and I heard her voice ever so faintly squeak a pant of pain out, "uh."

I paused ever so briefly, and said, "Louder, again."

"You are in COMMAND, sir." WHACK! She was still in the slightly curled position and this time she let out a stronger note of a cry, "hu-uh" with a high pitched tone. I couldn't see her face directly. But her girlfriend's mouth had dropped wide open and was practically licking the floor trying to look at my bottom's hair covered expression.

"Scream it as LOUD as you can."

"YOU ARE IN COMMAND SIR" WHACK!

"Again!"

"YOU ARE IN COMMAND SIR" WHACK!

I did this five times, with power behind each blow that had to hurt like hell. She was breathing heavily, her arms had given out but her curl was so tight, she was now a contorted shape on the horse. Her breath and voice were electrifying. Her cries, her breath, her panting, she seemed absorbed and engulfed by the experience, she had the whole room opening their jaws and eyes bugged out and sitting up straight and fingers grabbing fingers. I was right behind her, and the incredible sweet and unadultered smell of her body that I had enjoyed earlier, transformed into a tiny scent of sweat and sexual release. Did something happen for her?

I was standing in the perfect position, prepared for the next blow, my head was directly over her ass, my hand was on her cheek, and sure enough, I could see everything. Her panties had shifted to reveal her: beautifully trimmed, tiny, and extremely flush. Her panties were in her slit, and were soaking up a little wetness, a streak of color darkened by her juices. I wished at that moment that she knew what she had done for me earlier, I wished she had seen the little wet spot on my underwear, so she could enjoy the gift I gave her then, the same gift she gave me now.

Her girlfriend was pissed! I looked over and saw her lip curled up and cracks across her forehead, her laser eyes pinned on me for spanking so hard. She looked like she was poised to get up, looked at the instructor briefly, trying to see if he would stop this nonsense, then looked back to my bottom with caring puppy dog eyes and pouty lip. It was cute her not being able to rescue my bottom from the pain.

The instructor came up again, "Well, that was great. Thank each other and go sit down. Good job." Everyone clapped.

She was already pulling her shorts up, we got close, looked each other in the eyes, smiled, and said "thank you" in unison. I walked back past her girlfriend, who was still scowling, and sat down.

As we were all leaving, I ran into her alone in the hallway. She said her girlfriend had to go to the bathroom. I said thank you again, told her how great she was as a top, and she said the same.

Sometimes we encounter people in the world that consume us, that dominate us, tease us, blow us off, help us become who we are now. Sometimes we want so much more from an encounter, and are left with our proverbial hands to use alone. This encounter was consumed with anticipation and not release, with no happy ending, only memories of people we will never see again, and an introduction to spanking that will never be forgotten.