Moonglow

Those who know me today will know I’m a bossy woman – a dominant, strict, demanding bitch, standing for no nonsense. I also take pleasure in hurting and humiliating weak and pathetic men – and there are plenty of those around!

But what they may not know is that it wasn’t always this way. In fact, my first sexual feelings and fantasies were all about powerful men, often ‘forcing’ me to do things for them. Sometimes, in my imagination, it was groups of men, just using me for their pleasure. Why was it this way? Who knows where any of our sexual drives and fantasies arise from but for me one part of it was being released from any sense of guilt – if this brute makes me do this or forces himself on me, it’s not my fault, is it?

Being forced, being tied up, being punished and used, these were all fantasies of mine from a very young age, just 12 or 13. When I had my first boyfriend, I’d get him to tie me up and spank me before he ‘forced’ me to give him oral or brought himself off between my breasts. He’d also tie me to the bed and leave me for a little while before returning to punish and be beastly to me.

Once I left university and moved to London to work, I got into this theme even further, so much so that I reached a point where I couldn’t orgasm unless I was spanked or whipped first. Perhaps that’s putting it too strongly – I found it much easier to orgasm and do so quickly and intensely if I was first restrained and/or punished. I bought handcuffs and a leg spreader, riding crops, whips and canes and a leather dog collar and leash, and used scarves and ties as gags and blindfolds.

I don’t remember who first suggested I try a club called Moonglow, “The club for the sophisticated spanking enthusiast and connoisseur of the spanked female bottom”. I wrote to them and asked if I could attend one of their parties and some weeks later found myself at the back of a hall with about sixty or so men all on chairs facing a stage and three women who had been hired for the afternoon and who were brought onto the stage one by one, told how naughty they were and then a small group of men was invited onto the stage and took turns spanking these women (I think the way it worked is the men paid to attend and those who paid a premium could then spank the women).

I asked if I could go on stage too – I’d worn a pleated skirt, a suspender belt and fully fashioned (seamed) stockings and five-inch heels especially in anticipation of doing so – but the reaction I received was rather cool. I thought they’d be delighted to have a girl who was genuinely into being spanked and didn’t require payment, volunteering to go on stage and take a spanking but they seemed rather suspicious of my motives.

After a bit of humming and hawing, I was eventually invited up to the front, bent over a chair and three gents came on stage and took turns to make my backside glow. Two were quite tame but the third really went for it and was spanking me so hard his glasses fell off, at which the audience roared with laughter.

Afterwards I was chatting to one of the other women there – mid forties, blonde, quite chubby but very nice looking and a few of the gents joined us and were asking how I felt (hugely turned on was my answer) and one asked if I did private parties. The woman said something along the lines of oh, you must, great fun and she rubbed her fingers together suggesting the money was good. As a twenty-something straight out of college, saving for a car and a flat and more than happy to be spanked, I said sure, why not and so one of the gents took me to one side, explained what he enjoyed doing, suggested a fee which seemed very fair or even generous and asked if I was free the next weekend.

And that’s how I found myself, one Sunday lunchtime, in a flat in Tooting, in gym skirt, seams, heels, white blouse and school tie. Robert – late 40’s but doing a good impression of a much older man – was in a tweedy suit, checked shirt, regimental tie and polished brown brogues. I made the mistake of congratulating him for getting into his character’s uniform – he wanted to do a naughty schoolgirl and headmaster scenario – but it turned out this was his normal style of dress and it was only when he put on an academic gown and mortar board hat that he was ‘in uniform’.

Robert explained a sort of ‘problem’ which was that he didn’t feel able to really get into a spanking scenario unless he genuinely felt the woman was wayward and would actually benefit from a hard spanking, so he proposed we have a little chat and he asked me questions: was I a virgin? Had I ever performed fellatio? Did I enjoy it? Did I swallow the ejaculate? Had I ever had sexual relations with an older man?  With more than one man in the same week? (he looked shocked when I replied I’d had sex with more than one man in the same room!).  He even asked if I had ever asked for or received payment for providing sexual services, in response to which I pointed out he was paying to spank me, so he should know!

He seemed genuinely angry with me for that reply and so the conclusion from my interrogation was that even at my tender age I was a fallen woman intent on leading innocent men astray and therefore I needed to be taught a lesson, delivered through a firm spanking.

So, over his knee I went, skirt lifted and my lesson began. As he spanked me, he muttered things and I remember some of them as they all seemed so old fashioned. I was used to being called all sorts of names but with each strike from his hands he said things like“jezebel”, “trollop”, “brazen hussy”, “harlot” “strumpet”, “tart” and “scrubber” and even “jailbait” and there was some French, which I think was “fille de joie”. 

Although it wasn’t too hard, I nevertheless pleaded for mercy and pretended to sob with the pain and shame which seemed to greatly add to his pleasure, judging from his erection, and after about ten minutes of this my cheeks were glowing and I knew I wouldn’t be sitting down on the tube on the way home.

At this point he asked me to stand up and bend over the back of a dining chair and produced a cane saying, “Time for six of the best”. I protested, as this had not been part of our arrangement as we’d only discussed spanking and caning is quite a different matter, but after his wallet came out and the terms of our agreement suitably modified, I resumed the position with his promise that there would be only six strokes and not too severe at that. Well, the cane really did bring tears to my eyes and my yelps in pain were anything but fake and I knew I wouldn’t be sitting down anywhere for a day or two, as my buttocks came up with six purple wheals.

When the six strokes were complete, he said he hoped I had learnt my lesson but I remained in position and took his right hand and guided it to where I very badly needed it to be. “Oh my God” he exclaimed, “you’re so wet” and as he pushed a couple of fingers in and out of me a few times I had a rip-roaring, thunderous orgasm which left me gasping for breath and clutching the chair for fear of hitting the floor, as the room seemed to spin around.

We then had a short discussion about how he might also take his pleasure and although I offered to fellate him, I think for reasons of economy – he was learning I wasn’t quite such a cheap slut, after all – he decided he would masturbate over my bruised and swollen buttocks and proceeded to shoot his sperm and seminal fluid onto my throbbing globes and rubbed it in, saying it would make them better.

As I packed my things away, he asked if I’d be willing to have a repeat lesson but one where one or two friends of his might join.  It didn’t take long to agree the details, so almost a fortnight later I was back in his flat and introduced to his friends, Simon and Nicholas, who he joked was known as ‘Nasty Nick’. I was about to find out why.  All three were Moonglow members and enthusiastic spankers of young ladies, he told me.

So, it was over each of their knees for two minutes with each, then back round again, then touching my toes I felt the sting of a wooden ruler (not bad at all, really), then it was time to bend over a chair and be caned and here Nick showed his nasty side pulling me by the hair and delivering some brutal strokes. My buttocks went from glowing, to bruised, to swollen and purple over the course of an hour or so but for the finale, Nick told me I needed the belt, which he took off from round his trousers. He put me face down over the dining table, pulled my hands behind my back and tied them together with a rope and then went at me with his belt.  Now that really hurt and after ten or twelve hard lashes and with me screaming for mercy, Robert stepped in and told Nicholas to stop as he was “in danger of ruining our young lady”.

I was sobbing and my legs were like jelly and I had to hold onto the chair to remain upright but Robert didn’t delay in using his fingers once more and I didn’t delay in having my orgasm, either. Then all three stood behind me and unloaded over my backside, suspender belt and stockings, all of them muttering about what a naughty girl I was, filthy, slutty, dirty bitch etc.

I think that evening I’d reached my limit and although Robert invited me back to ‘party’ with them again and even suggested I take discipline from a larger group, I declined.

NB: for the avoidance of doubt, I don’t feature in any of the photos used to illustrate this piece.