As long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a nudist. Unfortunately, the woman I was married to for 25 years had no interest whatsoever in nudism, so I was well into my 50’s and single before I really had a chance to explore opportunities in the nudist lifestyle.
I quickly learned that the wide majority of folks in the nudist lifestyle preferred to be totally devoid of hair in the pubic region. It took me a little longer to realize that constantly shaving the swimsuit area was a major pain in the ass and often resulted in ingrown hairs, rashes, and minor lacerations in places you don’t want to put a Band-Aid.
The alternative was to pay someone to spread hot molten wax to your nether region and have them violently rip your pubic hair out by the roots. Seems crazy, but that’s what I chose. First, I did my due diligence by scouring the web for information regarding the practice of manscaping. The most common method, of course, was waxing, but a similar practice, called sugaring, uses a mixture of sugar, lemon, and water, which produces a similar but superior result with less pain and fewer negative after-effects (Google it).
The next, and possibly the biggest challenge for a guy looking for waxing or sugaring his pubic region is finding a provider that will take a man as a client. Unfortunately, most providers (99%) are female and have either had a negative experience with a male client or are worried about having one if they are trapped in a small room with an unknown half-naked man with limited resources to protect themselves. Thanks go out to those guys who expect a happy ending every time their naked penis is in the presence of a female service provider, like a beautician or massage therapist, for creating this environment.
Anyway, I have managed to find an excellent provider at each end of the semi-annual sojourn I make between Minnesota and Florida in search of optimal golf weather each year. I am fortunate in that my northern provider’s client base is almost exclusively male, and she is also qualified to provide a fabulous full-body massage. As a bonus, she is totally amenable to enabling my desire to be spanked in a variety of positions using an assortment of restraints and nefarious implements of inflicting pain.
My Florida provider has a widely diverse customer base but has limited her practice to sugaring any requested body parts of men or women. Her studio is in a small free-standing building whose only other tenant is a young accountant who works for a large manufacturer during the day and uses the space to develop his own accounting consultancy as a side hustle in the evenings.
When you spend 40 minutes or so naked from the waist down with a beautiful woman handling the various parts of your swimsuit area, you have a tendency to chat. During one of my recent visits to Sharon, my Florida sugaring gal, we discussed her desire to increase her business without having to invest a lot of money in additional equipment. Not only did she not have the money to purchase the equipment at this time, but she also really had no space to accommodate it. She had a small studio that was already maxed out with the equipment and storage space needed to keep her sugaring venture going.
We discussed adding mani/pedi services, but that would involve adding quite a bit of equipment. She probably could add massage to her list of service offerings since she essentially had a massage table already in the room that she used to perform her sugaring. However, she would have to undergo a fair amount of training to become certified as a massage therapist.
The only other thing I could come up with that would meet her criteria was (drum roll please) impact therapy, also colloquially known as spanking. I figured she could get things going with a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of adult spanking implements from Amazon, and she could start slowly with a few of her current clients and build her client base predominantly by word of mouth. Unfortunately, advertising that you are willing to spank people as part of your service offering is not as socially acceptable as many of us would like.
I have seen some providers who cleverly disguise their service as “life coach” or “adult disciplinarian,” but unless you want to move over into the adult category, marketing spanking services is pretty tricky. Most people can see through domestic discipline, fetish fulfillment, or percussive therapy, so unless you want to be labelled as a sex worker, word of mouth is most likely the best avenue available to you for growing your spanking business. Of course, Sharon was not aware that her first potential customer was sitting right there in front of her, already naked from the waist down and ready to sacrifice his white buttcheeks to provide her with her first practice spanking.
Predictably, her first reaction to the spanking concept was not as positive as I would have liked, seeing as how the idea was proferred by me. Although she spent most of her working day handling the genitals of naked humans, she had never had or taken the opportunity to spank one of them. Even in her private life, as an early thirties single gal with what I assumed was a normal sex life, she, and none of her partners, had ever visited the “dark side” and explored the spanking fetish.
To perhaps induce her to at least give consideration to the spanking concept, I made the supreme sacrifice and offered to let her test her aptitude and novice spanking proficiency on my recently sugared butt. She hesitated initially but when I bent over her leather-covered spa treatment table and declared, “Go ahead, take a few swats with your bare hand,” she figured she had nothing to lose and positioned herself behind me and to one side, in perfect position to begin this new adventure.
Her first slap was predictably sloppy and ineffective. She barely grazed my butt with the ends of her fingers, producing pretty much none of the pain normally associated with a spanking stroke. The second attempt was better as it felt like she got with me all of her four fingers, and it stung a bit. By the fifth stroke, she was starting to get the hang of it and pretty much got me right on the cheek with her full hand. It still didn’t hurt all that much because although she was getting the technique, she was still pretty nervous about using her strength and was unable to gauge the impact and her ability to inflict pain. Those skills take time and practice.
After a few more practice spanks, I noticed a shelf to my left amongst a number of jars and bottles of the various compounds of her trade, a fairly large wooden spatula-looking implement that could very easily qualify as a spanking paddle. “Let’s try that,” I suggested as I pointed to the item.
“Are you kidding?” she replied, “You could really hurt someone with that!”
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “For now, I am on the receiving end of this session, and I am not in this for blisters. If we get as far as a nice pink bottom, that will be fine with me. Go ahead and give that thing a try. Trust me, I will let you know if you start hitting too hard.”
“OK,” she relented, “I suppose if we have gone this far…”
Sharon retrieved the “paddle” and resumed her position behind me. “OK, here goes,” she warned. She swung the paddle rather gingerly and landed a perfect strike, catching both my cheeks at the arc of her swing. I hardly felt it.
“That swing was almost perfect,” I told her, “Your aim was great, you connected well, now if we can just work on increasing the velocity at the point of impact, we will be in business.”
“I am sorry,” she said, “I am just worried about hurting you. I have never done anything like this before.”
“Let’s try a few more, only this time, try to spank just a little bit harder. Maybe if we increase the impact very gradually, we will get you up to professional level in no time.”
Sharon agreed to keep trying, and over the next ten minutes or so, she had worked the intensity up to a level where I actually had to ask her to lighten up once or twice. I thought she was becoming much more comfortable with the fact that, rather than inflicting pain that she would normally feel bad about or illicit feelings of regret, she realized that, although pain was involved, it was consensual and actually something I was enjoying, and I was appreciative of her willingness to provide it.
“By George, I think you’ve got it,” I exclaimed in my best Henry Higgins impersonation. “Can I be your first customer?”
She smiled with pride in her accomplishment. “I am pretty sure I can do this. Actually, this is kinda fun when you get the hang of it. It is fun watching your bottom turn from white to pink to red. I am not sure I am ready to try this on actual clients, but maybe if my boyfriend will let me practice on him…we’ll see.”
“Lucky boyfriend,” I quipped. “That would be great if he would help. It is possible he might even enjoy it as I do. Maybe the next time I am scheduled for my regular appointment, I will be able to include a turn over your knee as part of the treatment. That would be fun.”
“To help you in your quest for spanko knowledge, I will email you a couple of charts that have been put together by folks who are deep into the spanking fetish. One will help you learn more about 14 different spanking implements and how they are rated with regard to how much pain they inflict. The other is an “Anatomy of a Spanking” that identifies the different areas of the buttocks and which should or should not be spanked. I think you will find them helpful.”
The five weeks to my next appointment passed uneventfully with no exciting spanko opportunities presenting themselves to me. When I arrived at Sharon’s for my normal Brazilian, the first thing I noticed was the display of two spanking implements hanging on the wall, prominently displayed next to her framed business license and other certificates and awards. There was a ping-pong paddle-shaped leather paddle and a regular wooden paddle with five or six small holes in it.
“What the Hell are those?” I asked with more than a little surprise.
“Turns out I have a new side business,” she stated proudly. “You were right, my boyfriend did like the spankings I was able to deliver. So much so that he encouraged me to give it a try. In fact, the paddles on the wall were his idea. He thought that since we really don’t want to advertise or market to the general public, word of mouth from our existing clients was the best way to go.”
His theory is that every one of our clients will notice those paddles on the wall as soon as they walk in the door, just as you just did. They will either ask about them right away or, for sure, their curiosity will get to them before the end of their treatment. They will be dying to know why they are there! He figured they would have one of two reactions when I tell them about my new service. Either they will be excited about the idea and want to try it for themselves, or they will be excited about the idea but be too shy or embarrassed to admit it right away, but will eventually at least give it a try. Keep in mind, these are folks who pay money for some sort of epilation every 5-7 weeks.
I have offered free trial spankings to any of my good long-term clients who asked about the spanking devices. There have been five so far, and they all enjoyed it and said they would try it again when I started to charge for it. Mind you, it was a trial, so I didn’t spank any of them very hard.
“Wow, that makes perfect sense,” I said, “so when we get done with my treatment today, am I going to get to experience your newfound side business?”
“Why certainly,” she replied, “I am anxious to hear your opinion of how my skills are improving, not to mention to see how red I can get your buttcheeks before you tap out,” she said with a chuckle.
“Well, let’s get on with the regular treatment then. I think this time I am scheduled for my regular Brazilian and my semi-monthly penacial, correct?” I asked.
“That is exactly right,” she replied, “So if you will get stripped from the waist down and climb up on the treatment table, we will get started.”
There is no joy or pleasure in having someone violently yank your pubic hair out by the roots. Neither is a trip to the dentist but it is something that occasionally needs to be done. The penacial, however, is a luxury I allow myself every 2-3 months. It is similar to a facial only for the penis, hence the name, duh. It is an excellent way to maintain healthy skin in sensitive areas for a cleaner, healthier and smoother feel.
When Sharon finished my treatments, she reached for one of the paddles hanging on the wall and declared, “Now let’s see how I have improved my spanking skills since we last met.”
“Remember what I told you last time,” I said. “Some spanko enthusiasts achieve pleasure in the pain and bruises. I have a friend who brags to me that a professional impact disciplinarian told him he had the highest pain tolerance level of any of her multitude of clients. He was proud of that and the fact that the bruises on his ass took 2-3 days to subside. I, on the other hand, have a comparatively low pain threshold and would rather have 200 average strength spanks than ten hard ones that would make me tap out in a few minutes. Hopefully, you will keep that in mind as you gauge the strength of your strokes to my butt.”
“As I recall, last time you expressed a desire for me to take you over my knee. Let’s start with that,” she suggested as she moved toward the only chair in the room. On her way, she reached over to grab the implement shaped like a ping pong paddle off the wall and tested its strength and feel by striking the flat of her left hand with a fairly hard slap. The loud “Smack” resounded through the small room and, since I wasn’t looking towards her at the time, took me quite by surprise.
She placed the paddle on a cabinet next to the armless chair, sat up straight in the chair and wriggled her skirt up about as high as she could get it. This presented me with a beautiful picture of a lovely young lady with a most inviting bare-legged lap just waiting for me to climb aboard and present my bare butt for her to do with as she pleased. It was exciting!
“Get across my lap,” she ordered, “and we will test out my new equipment.”
Rather awkwardly, I bent over her from her right beside the chair and lowered myself as smoothly as I could onto her lap, eventually balancing myself when my hands reached the floor. When my balls and penis snuggled gently between her bare, silky thighs, I felt the days of not getting an erection in front of Sharon were over. She had fondled my cock and balls many times in the past, but it was always in aid of a good and healthy cause, and that managed to keep the natural urges from running the show down there. In this case, the hormones were taking over, and I could feel growth in my penis making itself a cozy home along the length of this gal’s amazing thighs.
She started with several strokes to my backside with her open hand, alternating from cheek to cheek. Although in general the hand is fairly low on the sting/pain chart, she had perfected the stroke to the point where each blow landed fully and squarely on its intended target and produced a sharp yet tolerable stinging pain.
“Oooh, your cheeks are turning a nice shade of pink already,” she observed proudly.
“Yes, I noticed your technique has improved considerably and I would guess by the stinging sensation in my bottom, some coloration would be evident by now.
She reached for the paddle with her right hand and began a soft circular rubbing of my buttcheeks with the left. Then she rested the paddle gently on her target for a second, then in one quick motion raised the paddle to about shoulder level and brought it swiftly down to full impact with my right cheek. Smack! The gal had learned well. She brought the paddle down with just about the right impact for my tender bottom. I could certainly handle a stronger strike, but there was a lot of time for that.
“Ouch!” I cried. “That was a good one. A few more like that will definitely start the crimson tide.”
And so it went from there. Sharon landed a blow to my left cheek, then rested for a few seconds before aiming one back to my right. “Smack, Smack, Smack!” Every few strikes, she would stop and gently rub the increasingly pink area of my posterior with her hand before continuing the pattern once again. I felt the pain: no question! But there was no fear or vulnerability. I knew I could stop it at any time, and I also knew that Sharon had no desire to seriously hurt me. I could enjoy the endorphin or adrenaline effects and feel the pain/pleasure building a warm calm over me.’
After about 30-40 (who’s counting) strikes with the ping pong paddle, Sharon decided she wanted to try something different and asked me to stand up and move over to near the treatment table. Personally, I would rather have continued much longer with the ping pong paddle. The “problem” with which I was now presented was that the motion of the spanks and my body-jerking response to it was creating a rubbing motion between Sharon’s thighs that had definitely initiated an erectile response. That was great to experience, but it would most likely make it quite embarrassing to get up and walk across the room in front of Sharon.
Sure enough, as soon as I stood up, there it was, sticking straight out in front of me in all its glory. Sharon was very cool about it, although she could not suppress a smile at my predicament.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I am sure things will subside during our next event.”
She had me stand facing the treatment table and lean over to rest my forearms on the table. She placed the leather paddle on the table in front of me, I suppose to remind me of why I was there.
“Let’s try something different,” she said, and turned to reach the wooden paddle off the wall behind her. “This one will undoubtedly leave a mark, what do you think?” The wooden paddle looked a lot like the ones you see in college fraternity ceremonies, only a lot smaller, about fourteen inches.
The first stroke she made to my backside was quite different from the leather paddle spanking I had been experiencing. Her first stroke landed squarely on both cheeks and on top of the soreness that I was already feeling from the leather paddle, causing me to cry out plaintively, “Owww!” It was like the leather paddle strokes inflicted pain in the top ¼” of my skin, where the wooden paddle had enough impact to excite all the pain sensors down twice as far below the surface. Bottom line: it hurt like Hell!
“We need to adjust the impact of your stroke,” I said. “Let’s back it off about fifty percent, then we can gradually work it back up closer to my upper pain tolerance. When we hit that mark, we will have reached the point where you can deliver a bunch of spanks that will take my cheeks from bright pink to deep red, but before we enter blue and purple.”
Thankfully, she heeded my advice, and once we found the right impact, she provided about 40 more strokes with the wooden paddle. Each successive stroke increased the intensity of the pain in my cheeks. She paused every ten strokes or so to gently rub my posterior with her hand. That break allowed me to psych myself up for the onslaught I knew was sure to follow. When she announced the final stroke, you can imagine the beautiful shade of red she had managed to turn my posterior. And though the pain was pretty intense by that point, I loved it and was already looking forward to the next treatment.
When I was able to gently pull my slacks back up over the inflamed area, I thanked her profusely and tipped her generously. Then, before I left, wished her well in her new side venture. I assured her I would be back for more when it was sugaring time once again in about five weeks and that I was sure we would add spanking to our regular treatment plan!
