It's me again, Samantha. I wrote last time about getting my dad to spank me and recording it on my phone. Watching myself getting a painful spanking was the hottest thing I had ever done, but I knew even then that it was only a way to fill a gap. I knew I was going to need to find a man to replace Daddy and give me the painful spankings I found so... well... sexy.

I can hear it now. "Doesn't a spanking hurt? How could you crave something painful like that?" I know. I can't really figure it out either. I absolutely dread it in the moments before, when I am anticipating it. And what little mental bandwidth I have while I'm being spanked is dedicated entirely to regretting getting myself into the situation and wishing the spanking would stop. And when it's all over I just cry and cry and feel sorry for myself and try to rub my poor bottom to put out the fire. But every time, when the crying calms down, my pussy wakes up and I relive the experience and touch myself and... well... the orgasms somehow make the whole painful and embarrassing experience worthwhile.

I've been on a few dates with guys from the college I go to, but I never got far enough with anyone to confide in about my desires. Having grown up with the Internet, though, I knew there was a way to short-circuit that. I went on a... well... a kink dating site. I didn't put up an ad myself. I've heard all the stories and know that women on those sites just get buried in attention. No, instead, I searched on my own for men who were looking for women who wanted to be spanked.

It took some time - a lot of the guys I wrote didn't write back, a few were rude, a couple didn't think I was even real. But Keith was polite and we struck up a conversation in the app's chat. I told him I was looking for a spanking experience and that I was new to getting what I called "recreational" spankings. Keith was older than me, which made me think complicated thoughts. Nobody would replace my father... but an older man made sense as an authority figure.

He invited me to a coffee house to discuss things in person. He arrived on time, and we talked for a while. He made me feel at ease and assured me that he would always respect my limits and that "stop" would always be respected. He said that our first meetings should be at a hotel - that would be neutral ground for both of us. I agreed and he got on his phone and reserved a room for the evening a few days later, and that if I changed my mind in the meantime to just let him know and he'd cancel. He even brought with him some things to show me. He had a thick leather strap, a plastic rod the thickness of a pencil with an ornate carved handle, but the thing that caught my attention was a walnut paddle. It was a slightly different shape, but almost the exact same size as the one Daddy always used. I saw that and it sent a little shiver down my spine and I couldn't help but shift a little in my seat.

I had a couple of days to stew before my appointment. That was a new experience for me. In the past, the time between "That's it! Go to your room, I'll be there shortly" and when Daddy would come in and spank me was almost always only a few minutes. All the time I spent not in class was just my mind turning over the same questions - questions I knew I would be unable to answer on my own in advance. Even that video that I had played so many times while I touched myself... I didn't need it, since I had something new to fantasize about.

A half hour before the appointed time, I got a message from Keith with the room number. The hotel was close to home, so made it over in plenty of time and found myself in front of the numbered door. My thoughts harkened back to that moment when I was about to pour Daddy's whiskey in the sink. I could just run away right now. But if I knocked, I knew that a painful spanking would be the inevitable consequence. I watched in fascinated horror as my own hand came up seemingly on its own and knocked on the door.

Keith opened the door and ushered me wordlessly in. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured to a spot in the floor in front of him. I walked to where he indicated. He spoke immediately with a tone of complete authority.

"Alright, Samantha, let's not mince words. I'm going to spank you and it's going to hurt. It's going to hurt a great deal. And you and I both know that it has to hurt. But I also want you to know that I will stop if you tell me to, but other than that I am going to use my best judgement to let the spanking take you where I think you need to go. Alright?"

I nodded and in a weak voice I replied, "Yes."

"'Yes, sir,' Samantha," he corrected.

"Yes, sir," I repeated after him.

What he did next shocked me to my core. He reached towards my waist and unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. Then he reached to my sides and started tugging them down to my knees. I'd never felt so helpless and ashamed in my life and I felt my whole face flush and am sure it turned fifteen shades of red. Then he reached for my elbow and pulled me to his right side, and then across his lap. I did my best to follow and brought myself down the way I had done with Daddy countless times before. Then I reached for a pillow and pulled it to my face to cry into.

Keith didn't wait another moment, but started spanking me with his hand on top of my panties. Being spanked with a hand was different than I was used to. It was certainly less severe, but only a little. It still made me squirm on his lap and give voice to a whole lot of "Ooh" and "ouch" noises and I felt the heat rising as he spread the spanks around liberally.

And then he paused and I felt him take hold of the waistband of my panties and drag them down to join my pants around my knees. The embarrassment at being bared like that came to the forefront of my brain and that's what made the first tears begin.

"There's your naked bottom. It's coming along, but we have a long way to go yet."

And then he resumed the spanking. And it went on and on and on. It felt like he must have spanked me for an hour while I laid over his lap and just cried and cried. But at no point did it occur to me to stop it. All I could do was cry and endure.

And then distantly through the fog I heard him say, "Alright, Samantha, stand up."

I stood up on my wobbly legs and reached behind me to try and sooth the burning fire in my bottom while I continued to bawl my eyes out. He waited a few moments for me to calm down and then spoke again.

"Alright, Samantha. We're not quite done yet. I'm going to give you a taste of my strap, but we're going to need to get you ready for it first."

With that, he took ahold of the hem of my T shirt and lifted it up. I raised my arms up to help him strip it off me and felt my heart knocking against my ribcage. I had on a sports bra and he took ahold of that and pulled it up and over my head as well. I couldn't help but bring my arms down and try to shield my naked breasts from him - the first stranger other than a doctor who had ever seen me like that. My mind was filled with nothing but shame. He knelt down and pulled my pants and panties down the rest of the way and I lifted each foot in turn to let him pull them off. He stood back up and I shivered in fear, naked as I was before him.

"Bend over, Samantha, and put your elbows on the bed."

I did as he directed. I turned and watched as he walked over to the dresser and retrieved his strap - the same one he had shown me at the coffee shop. He walked out of view with it behind me. A moment later I felt the strap contact my bottom and it made me flinch.

Then there was nothing at all for a long moment before the air was filled with a loud "CRACK!" and my entire bottom felt the impact and turned into an inferno. Everything I was was instantly turned into a single anguished cry.

"Aaaaaaaaugh!!!!"

When my lungs ran out of air, they sucked in and then just started bawling again. And then another "CRACK!" and the fire intensified followed by the crying. And then another and another until it was impossible to count them.

And then his hands were on my shoulders urging me to stand up, and then the next thing I knew, he was standing in front of me and enveloped me in a hug. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest and if anything the crying intensified a little as my entire soul tried to pour itself out in his arms.

I felt his hands stroking my hair and his calm voice, "There there, Samantha. It's ok. You took your spanking like a good girl and it's all over."

The tenderness was overwhelming to me in the best way. I felt safe and protected in his arms - the same arms that had held me down and given me a harsh and painful spanking, stripped me naked and given me that insane strapping only moments before. But none of that mattered. I felt cared for. And I realized it was something that Daddy had never done after a spanking.

He held me close until the crying died down and I was just sniffling. Then he broke the hug and sat back down on the bed. I stood there naked in front of him, not knowing what to do.

He smiled. "You're beautiful, Sam. Any man would be lucky to have you."

I smiled and felt my face flush again and another moment went by,

He smirked and said, "I'm sorry. Go ahead and get dressed."

I reached down and gathered up my clothes, starting with my panties. Before I got them completely up, I turned to look behind me. The parts of my bottom I could see were flaming red with much darker blotches here and there.

Keith saw me checking out my bottom and remarked, "Yes, I think you're going to feel that for a few days."

I smiled, "I think so," I said and grabbed my bra.

"So... How was that for your first go?"

I pondered that while I finished dressing. First and foremost, the loving care he gave me after the spanking was the most touching and tender thing I could remember. That just by itself was enough to make the pain and humiliation of being stripped and spanked to tears worth it.

"It was good. I can't tell you how embarrassing it was when you stripped me, but... I..." I swallowed hard before I continued, "I think I would do it again."

Keith smiled and stood up. He embraced me in a warm hug and kissed me on my forehead. "Let me know when you want to go again."

With that, he opened the door and walked me down to my car. I sat down gingerly in the driver's seat and drove home. As I drove, my mind replayed the entire evening. And as it did, I felt those all-too-familiar feelings start down below. Yes. Like a kid who just got off the scariest roller-coaster of his life... I couldn't wait to do it again.