Author:
Steven
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Date Posted: 09:32:38 04/15/17 Sat
>>One time, when I was in my early 20s, I was driving
>>down a highway. I wasn't paying any attention to the
>>speedometer. All of a sudden, I heard a siren. I
>>looked in my rear view mirror and saw a police car
>>rapidly approaching with his red lights flashing. I
>>pulled over to the side of the road, parked on the
>>shoulder, and prayed he wasn't chasing after me. But,
>>as luck would have it, he pulled off the road too and
>>parked a short distance behind me.
>>
>>Anxiously looking through my side-view mirror, I saw a
>>cop get out of that vehicle and walk toward my car. He
>>stopped next to the driver's window and said, in a
>>commanding voice, "Sir. Please roll down your window."
>>As I complied with his request, I turned my head
>>toward the officer, but because he was quite tall, I
>>couldn't see his face. Instead, I found myself staring
>>directly at the huge buckle of his holster belt. And
>>just below that impressive buckle, a bulge in his
>>pants testified to his undeniable manhood. Suddenly, I
>>had a feeling I hadn't experienced since I was a
>>little kid, when I had done something wrong. I recall
>>my dad's tall frame towering over me. He would look
>>down at me and shake his head. That was his way of
>>registering his disappointment with me, and I KNEW
>>then he was going to punish me with his belt. My dad
>>didn't like punishing me, but he felt it was important
>>for my moral upbringing. So he was very conscientious
>>about it, and he applied the belt with enough force to
>>insure I learned my lesson. And that lesson, which I
>>would have to learn over and over again, was that any
>>transgression of dad's rules would result in a painful
>>encounter with his belt.
>>
>>Suddenly, I was brought back to the here-and-now when
>>I heard the police officer ask me, "Do you know what
>>the speed limit is here?" and I replied "No". He said
>>it was 55 mph. Then he asked, "Do you know how fast
>>you were going?", and again I replied "No". He said,
>>"I clocked you at 85 mph. I'm going to have to write
>>you up for a speeding violation. Because of the
>>excessively high speed, the fine is going to cost you
>>several hundred dollars. But, right now, I want you to
>>step out of your vehicle!" His stern request alarmed
>>me. Was this standard procedure for a speeding ticket?
>>But I was even more afraid of what he might do if I
>>didn't obey him. So I promptly got out of my car.
>>
>>It was then that I got my first full view of the
>>officer. He looked quite commanding in that black
>>uniform. Observing the gun on one side of his holster
>>belt, and a long threatening baton hanging down on the
>>other side, I was quickly intimidated into submission.
>>Because of the power he wielded over me, I found
>>myself, not only in fear of him, but strangely
>>attracted to him as well. I wondered if the officer
>>had noticed that my attention was focused on his
>>holster belt and the bulge that lay just below it. If
>>so, he didn't seem to mind the attention, as I thought
>>I detected a subtle smile on his face. The officer
>>said, "You're probably wondering why I asked you to
>>step out of your vehicle. Well, when I was walking up
>>to your car, I noticed that your tires were badly
>>worn. I want to show you those worn tires. If one of
>>your tires had blown while you were speeding at 85
>>mph, you might have been killed. You need to replace
>>all four of your tires." A dead silence followed. The
>>officer asked me why I was looking so glum? I replied,
>>"With the cost of the speeding ticket, I don't see how
>>I'll be able to afford 4 new tires on my wages. And I
>>need my car for work."
>>
>>For a moment, the officer appeared to be deep in
>>thought. Then, he said, "I'll tell you what I'll do.
>>You seem like a fine young man. I don't want you to
>>risk your life driving a car in unsafe condition, but
>>I don't want to see you go bankrupt either because of
>>one foolish mistake. However, you do need to be
>>punished for breaking the law and endangering other
>>people's lives as well as your own. So I'll make you
>>this deal. I won't write you up for a ticket this one
>>time if you agree to come over to my place on Saturday
>>and submit to some punishment, which will be
>>determined by me when you come over. You'll just have
>>to trust me that the punishment will be fair and just.
>>So, what's your decision?" I hesitantly replied, "It
>>looks like taking the punishment at your place is the
>>only real choice I have." The officer warned me,
>>"Don't even think about not showing up for your
>>punishment!" Then he got back into his vehicle and
>>drove off.
>>
>>When I arrived at the officer's house on Saturday, I
>>wondered what kind of "punishment" he had in mind for
>>me. Maybe, he'd force me to do some strenuous yard
>>work or other manual labor. Or maybe, at the worst,
>>he'd make me to do 100 push-ups. But I was in total
>>disbelief when he said, "I've decided to give you an
>>old-fashioned belt whipping for your punishment. Since
>>you are too tall to take over my knee, I'm going to
>>tie you down to a sawhorse in my garage. But first, I
>>want you to take off all your clothes. The belt
>>whipping will be most effective when applied to your
>>naked butt." I felt I had no choice but to obey his
>>orders. After I had taken off my clothes, I lay across
>>the sawhorse. Then he used thick cords to tie my hands
>>and feet securely to hooks on the legs of that
>>sawhorse. I was surprised when he rubbed the palms of
>>his hands across my butt and said, "You've got a
>>nice-looking ass. It's going to be a real shame to
>>have to leave nasty black bruises all over it, but
>>they'll disappear after a few weeks". I got really
>>worried when he said that.
>>
>>The officer then stood directly in front of me. I
>>lifted my head up in order to get a glimpse of him. He
>>had on a wide black garrison belt, which stood out
>>really well against the faded blue jeans he was
>>wearing. I watched him intently as he unbuckled his
>>belt and slowly pulled it out of the belt loops of his
>>jeans. Then he doubled the belt over and walked behind
>>me. I was shaking like a leaf. I KNEW I was going to
>>"get the belt" any moment now, and I WAS SCARED!
>>
>>The first few strokes of his belt came as a complete
>>shock. I hadn't gotten a whipping like that since I
>>was a child. I had forgotten how painful it was! The
>>fact that I was an adult now did not make the pain any
>>more bearable. The officer laid his belt across my ass
>>at a steady pace. Each stroke felt worse than the one
>>before it. I tried to take the punishment without
>>crying, but by the time he had given me a dozen
>>lashes, tears started flowing. The sting of his belt
>>was breaking down my resistance. Soon, I could no
>>longer hold it back, and I burst out crying. When the
>>punishment had reached 30 lashes, I begged him,
>>"Please stop. I can't take it any more." Then, the
>>officer told me, "The REAL PUNISHMENT begins when you
>>can't take the pain any more!" Then he resumed the
>>whipping, and, from that point on, I let out a yell
>>with every stroke of his belt. My dad had never given
>>me that many lashes, and he never laid the belt on as
>>hard as this officer was doing.
>>
>>When I realized that the officer hadn't told me how
>>many lashes he was going to give me, I began to wonder
>>if my punishment was ever going to end. By the time it
>>had reached 40 lashes, I was screaming uncontrollably,
>>and my body was moving every which way, trying to
>>escape from the officer's belt, but without success.
>>When the punishment had reached 50 lashes, he suddenly
>>stopped and told me, "I think you've learned your
>>lesson." I was still crying steadily even though the
>>lashes had ceased. Then, in a tone that struck terror
>>into my heart, he said, "Are you ever going to give me
>>cause to have to punish you again with my belt?" "No
>>sir.", I replied tearfully and submissively.
>>
>>Since the officer was still behind me, I wasn't able
>>to see him. Suddenly, I felt his hands gently
>>massaging my butt. I think he was trying to comfort me
>>after the terrible pain he had just inflicted. Then he
>>leaned forward over me and massaged my back with his
>>hands. But as he did so, I felt the front of his
>>jeans press against my butt. He must have put his belt
>>back on because I could feel the cold metal of his
>>large belt buckle against my butt, which was still
>>radiating heat from the whipping. Then I got aroused
>>when I felt the bulge in his jeans rubbing across my
>>ass. I think he had already figured out that I liked
>>"being with men" because he asked me, "Would you like
>>me to warm up your inside to match your butt?" I KNEW
>>what he meant and I replied "Yes." I heard his belt
>>buckle jingle as he undid it once more, and instead of
>>the rough texture of his jeans, I now felt his warm
>>throbbing flesh pushing its way into me.
>>
>>For the curious, this story is pure fiction, but it
>>reveals a lot about the secret desires of its creator.
>
>I never was spanked by police officer, but for my old
>man any ticket for dangerous driving was reason to
>spank me despite my age. I got the last at 23 and the
>worst in front younger siblings. It was very painful
>and very embarrassing.
My elder, Josh, is 18 already but he isn't immune for family punishments, if deserves them. Driving after beer is real reason for punishment next morning -
http://68.media.tumblr.com/6ec9ef9e968ee72dc52180923a1c3102/tumblr_oji8zqKs3E1vx0196o1_1280.jpg
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