The Bare Bottom Spanking and Wedging

Given the complications of puberty, teens were usually exempt from spankings.
No adolescent ever expected to be spanked. The very thought of being paddled was
horrific to any student; it was viewed as the ultimate embarrassment. One would rather
die.

Things were about to change! Danny was to get his very first spanking ever- and,
strangely enough, as a high school senior. I had spanked many a child from ages eight
through fifteen- but this lad was about to become my very first eighteen-year-older.
However, as previously mentioned, both his immaturity and his appearance would make
it seem more like I was disciplining a fifteen-year-older. This fact was almost certain to
make the punishment a whole lot more embarrassing for him, I can assure you. How
embarrassing? I wasn't sure yet. A lot would depend on his attitude when I confronted
him. I would play it by ear.

I decided to discipline him in the art room during an off period- where there was
plenty of privacy. Upon entering the room I noted that a paper cutter had been left wide
open; I would have to rectify that later on the way out- and chastise the student who had
been so profusely careless.

Upon Danny's arrival, I observed that his trousers were hosting an exposed
waistband that could be none other than that of white briefs, i.e., tighty whitey brief
underpants.
Talk about poetic justice!
Thrilled that I had taken the time to read his recent editorial Tighty Whities,
Beware the Wedgie! and equally pleased that I had had the presence of mind to bring the
article with me, I reached for the latest edition of the school newspaper.

"Anyone found to be wearing tighty whities should be given a wedgie
immediately," I read aloud from his own article.

"Now wait just a minute!" he interrupted, in a frightened voice. "Time out!"
"Wearing tighty whities is inexcusable and, therefore, always punishable- with no
exceptions," I continued.

"I can explain. I have a good reason for wearing briefs this morning," he added.

"A wedgie is always acceptable if the victim is asking for it- for instance- when
any waistband is exposed," I further continued.

The lad was both furious and scared.

"Please listen to me, Sir. I have worn boxer shorts every single day of my life for
the last ten years . Today, for some weird reason, my bedroom bureau drawers had no
boxers available- just a single pair of briefs- these!. I was late to school already so I
quickly slipped them on and headed for school," he explained.

"A wedgie is always in season if the victim's overall demeanor is unpleasant," I
concluded.

"Will you stop with the newspaper article?" he shouted.

"In my opinion, as high school principal and disciplinarian, your overall
demeanor is, indeed, very unpleasant!" I offered. "These are your rules, not mine- on the
front page of the school newspaper. And you are going to live by them this very day."
"OK- if you are going to give me a wedgie, do it and get it over with," he blurted.
"I have better things to do with my time than to discuss underwear."
He turned around and offered me the waistband at the rear of his undies.

Big mistake, Danny, I mused to myself. Big mistake!
At this point, I made the decision that I would treat him not as a high school
senior and not even as the fifteen-year-older that he appeared to be. Rather, I would treat
him as a young brat who needed the taste of an old-fashioned spanking.

I turned him around to face me, and, reminding him that his favorite kind of
wedgie was the pants-down style, I reached for his belt buckle. Before he could give me
any further lip, I adamantly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and opened wide the
front of his blue dungarees.

He was indignantly flabbergasted!
"My father is the town's chief of police" he boasted.
"I just got through talking with your Mom over the phone. Your Dad is out of
town for the full week at a Convention. Today, she is the chief and I am taking my orders
from her! "
The lad's face dropped to the floor- as his trousers soon would.

I perused the handiwork before me.

What a deliciously-bulged package to behold! He was hard as a rock and there
was a sticky wet spot near the top of his tighty-whities where his proud erection
desperately sought to escape the confines of his undersized briefs. The enticing penis
head was throbbing feverishly. Another half inch and his moist crown would have been
winking at me. There was no doubt that Danny had reached full adolescence. There was
also no doubt that unbuckling his pants, unzipping his fly, and exposing his Fruit of the
Looms frontal had led him to both dread and excitement; he was experiencing both
intense pleasure and marked terror- simultaneously. His face showed fright while his
phallic tool showed delight- the two in bitter disagreement.

The undersized briefs portrayed his testicles and scrotum as well-developed and
in perfect proportion to his relatively slim and wiry build.
It was obvious from his body language that Danny had never crossed anyone's
knee before.
Terrified, he pleaded: "Can't we do something else? I am so sorry. I won't bully
again."
"Danny, this is the most effective punishment I know for a boy of your behavior.
Besides, I'm only following your rules for wedgies- without exception."
"I am not a boy; I am a man!"
"Based upon your childish behavior and for the purposes of this particular
discipline, you will be treated as a boy- and a rather obnoxious boy, at that. In fact, even
your undies are those of a little boy, are they not?"
I grinned and he grimaced as I slowly but deliberately lowered his trousers from
his waist to his knees- exposing the remainder of his tight, white briefs and bare, white
thighs. Lo and behold, the lad possessed, before my very eyes, a wedgie of the finest
quality. And, he didn't like it at all.

"Wedgie!" I announced.

His entire body tensed as a good part of his undies got further sucked into the
happily-awaiting cleft of his sweaty buttocks, thereby revealing a mouth-watering portion
of his ready-for-the-taking buns, birthday-suit flesh that he preferred to keep hidden. His
tight underpants revealed the contour of two perfectly-rounded mounds just begging to
be further exposed and spanked.
My original motive was to grant justice to the victims of Danny's bullying-
especially to Angela, but I found myself experiencing a fringe benefit- I was going to
truly enjoy this. This lad wasn't too old to be spanked, after all. In fact, he was the perfect
age to be spanked. But what about the briefs? Should they stay or should they go? And, if
they go, who should decide? Danny's incredibly good looks and naughty behavior were
increasingly placing his whities at high risk.
I paused for a good sixty-seconds so that we could both anticipate what might
happen next.
His knees shook and his lower lip trembled.

At the same slow-motion rate that I had dropped his trousers to his knees- and
then to his ankles- my hungry hands grabbed him firmly around the waist, slowly
drawing him between my open legs. He resisted- but that made it all the more enthralling.
Placing a lad across both knees- over a full lap- produces delightfully plump, soft
cheeks for spanking. On the other hand, placing a lad over one knee, raises his rump high
into the air. The glamorous cheeks are not as round or as soft in such a position- but the
view is extraordinary. The latter of the two positions- over one knee- is especially
despised by the spankee because it leaves him absolutely helpless. It also rewards the
spanker with a full rear view of all that is private: sagging balls, spread cheeks, and a
partially-opened, enchantingly-pink anus. You can see right up the disgraced lad's donut
hole- and he knows it! I often do both positions, the first for stripping and the second for
spanking, thereby getting the full benefits of both. I am, indeed, a true spankophile- a
lover of reddened bottoms.

Sometimes the lad's soft, partially erect, or fully erect rod adds to the (OTK)
over-the-knee scenery. The boy can sometimes hide his petulant peter- at least at the
beginning- but a few hard slaps on the outer buttocks force him to vehemently twist and
turn- thereby granting the lucky disciplinarian repeated scrutiny of his flagging shaft.
During spankings, each boy's unique pole will usually alternate between all three states of
soft, partially-erect, and fully-erect. Generally, the penis becomes a glistening cherry red
with tinges of purple encircling the blood-gorged crown. When erect and spouting with
love juices, it is an alluring masterpiece!
I then proceeded to lay Danny across my left knee while my right knee snugly
pressed against his upper thighs. Immediately, my right leg trapped his lower legs. In an
instant he was wholly helpless. He struggled vehemently- but to no avail. The front-page
publisher of Tighty Whities, Beware the Wedgie! was presently having his own tighty-
whities wedgies published- over the principal's knee. Now published, there were soon to
be edited- in detail.

Once a lad is over my knee with both hands touching the floor, both feet off the
floor, my left arm wrapped tightly around his waist, my right foot bearing down on his
ankles, my left hand incapacitating his right arm, and my left knee incapacitating his left
arm- there is no turning back. The youngster is doomed for punishment. His succulent
buttocks belong to me; his lower cheeks have my name written across them. Most
wayward spankees know this- but they often wiggle and squirm and shout and scream
and toss and turn and kick and beg and plead anyways.
Danny was a different story. He realized too late that had he cooperated with me
from the start, instead of mouthing off, he might have avoided a great deal of misery. His
comment about Dad being chief of police and about him, Danny, not having the time to
discuss underwear had sealed his fate. As any student with half a brain would have told
him: Your attitude sucks!

And so, much too late, the reality of being spanked suddenly struck home. The
shocked lad screamed so loudly that I knew I had done well in choosing the isolated art
room.
"Oh no- please- anything but this!" he begged with all his might. "I'll do anything
to get out of this. Do anything you want to me- but please not a spanking. I'm too old for
this."
"How does it feel to be on the receiving end of bullying?" I inquired.
"But- but- but- I'm eighteen years old!" he argued.
"Not a good argument, Danny! Not a good argument at all. The fact that you are
an eighteen-year-older acting like a spoiled bratty kid from elementary school motivates
me even more. I am about to tan your hide- as they used to say. And, forgive me for
saying this but it is going to be my pleasure. My pleasure, indeed!"
"But this is sooo entirely un-cool and embarrassing!" he retorted as he managed
to raise his head from a lowered position.
"I'm counting on it, Danny! I'm counting on it! The greater your embarrassment,
the better! In fact, I've been giving some serious thought to having the prettiest girl in the
school observe this."
He scoffed at such a suggestion.

The distraught lad found it rather difficult to keep his head raised when draped
over my one knee- his butt sticking high in the air with tight briefs uncomfortably
wrapped around his upper thighs and testes- and his dungarees dangling helplessly from
his ankles. He tried to adjust his underpants with his right hand, as a marvelous wedgie
increasingly and progressively revealed deliciously tempting portions of his smooth
buttocks- portions which briefs are intended to cover.
But my left hand grabbed his right hand- making any adjustment of his undies
futile. My eyes feasted on a good portion of his bare cheeks- and he knew it. Just in case
he didn't know it, I casually and lightly brushed the tips of my fingers across the tender
mounds of naked flesh bordering his wedged cottons. Yes- he was sure of it. His bare,
pubescent butt was at least partially on display- and at the mercy of a school principal
who was taking his orders directly from Chief Mom. How much more of his supple
cheeks I would choose to reveal, he could only guess. The fate of his briefs- and the
possible full baring of his wicked buttocks, ass crack, ass hole, and quivering ballocks-
had to be his number one concern.

Also crazing his crushed spirit must have been the thought of how any lowering
of his undies would affect his pulsating weenie. The moment any boy's elastic waist band
is lowered any distance, the very first part of the boy to be sensually affected is his
dearest stick- whether it be flacid, semi-hard, or fully erect.
It was time to emotionally tantalize him.
"To bare or not to bare Е " I whispered, as if to myself.
Danny's entire body tensed and his elastic cheeks clenched tightly beneath his
cottons at hearing the word bare.

In order to weaken his vigorous, wrestling movements, I desired to exhaust him.
Nothing does that better than a rambunctious tickle-torture. I slowly inched my right arm
with its hungry fingers underneath his tee shirt and snail-paced toward one of the most
vulnerable areas of his entire body- his soft and open arm crevices. His pits were warm,
sweaty but smooth, and most inviting. I lightly stroked the soft flesh of both hairless
caverns, at first alternating between arm pits, teasing him into a panicky trepidation that I
might sink my fingers more deeply into his toasty flesh. He must have seen it coming
because he hollered vociferously at the same time as I began to mercilessly tickle-torture
both pits- the span of my hand easily crossing his narrow chest in order to penetrate both
crannies simultaneously. My thumb amply serviced one arm pit while the four fingers
gave the other pit equal attention. His entire body- especially his chest- shook and
trembled. His ass- raised at full mast- did likewise.

Never has a lad thrashed so wildly. My happy fingers devoured his pits for a good
ten minutes as he wriggled rowdily.
At a time like this, there is no positioning quite like the OTK positioning. The
setting for Danny's precious rear end was perfect! One of the few areas of his body
which was permitted any movement was his delicate rump as he bolted his loins as
vigorously as a newly-wed pumping his bride for the very first time. He rode my knee not
only up and down but also left and right- as it is impossible not to toss and turn while
having one's armpits eaten alive.

Showing no mercy, I proceeded from his defenseless armpits to his very ticklish,
fully-exposed tummy. It too was soft and inviting- comparable in texture to the meat on
his partially exposed buttocks- and I penetrated his tender, twisting belly with great
enthusiasm for a full five minutes. His stomach muscles convulsively pulsated with
frequent spasms.

Finally, he was utterly exhausted and ready for the taking. His body language said
that he had surrendered his adolescent bottom to me. Resigned to some sort of spanking,
the youth had a pressing plea that rose from his very depths:
"Pleeeease don't drop my underpants. Pleeeeeease leave the briefs on. Pants me
and spank me but please- I beg you like I have never begged before- please don't
underpants me. Besides, I need to pee!"

I wondered whether he really needed to pee- or shoot his load. I thought of what
effect his wriggling over my single knee might have on his agitated boy-becoming-man
tool. After all, his quivering boner- already oozing juices- must have been screaming for
reprieve as his male lap squirmed against mine. And so, he had two very good reasons for
keeping his undies around his waistline: escaping the intensely embarrassing exposure of
his agile cheeks and the effect a lowering elastic waistband would invariably have on his
trembling branch.
"I've got a hard-on!" he yelled. "This is so embarrassing. Please let me go. I need
to go to the john!"

He wanted the bathroom alright- so that his howling, reddened peter could shoot
its vast load of pent-up, adolescent semen, and then abandon the school building without
his well-deserved paddling. No way was this tasty morsel leaving my plate!
I was determined that Danny's popping stiffie would reach ecstatic pleasure only after his
luscious buns had suffered the spanking of their life- bald or not- and not a moment
before. But that seemed impossible; this lad was going to ejaculate his entire groin's
contents right onto my lap before I had a chance to even begin toasting every square inch
of his snow-white buns to a crimson red.

How could I stop this bliss in time? How could I prolong youthful orgasm? How
could I be sure that an ass-whipping would precede his spilling of seed? How could I
insist on pain before pleasure?

Then it dawned on me: the opposite of extreme pleasure is extreme pain.
It was then that I spotted them- dangling powerlessly between his white, meaty thighs-
bidding me to squeeze them and to send their owner into the greatest pain possible.
Danny's pubic balls- housed in a craggy bag! Yes, his priceless jubies- the most
vulnerable part of the boy- the most vulnerable part of any boy. His underpants hid most
of the two nut-globes and their protective sac but there was still ample room between the
upper inner thighs and the brief's elastic for a prying administrator to fancifully probe.
And probe is what I would gladly do.
The youth then made a huge mistake. He gave further incentive to squish his
savory nuts.
"This really sucks!" he shouted.

The words sucks was forbidden in those days- and the moment he uttered such a
word he knew he had crossed the line at the worst possible time- while over the knee of a
disciplinarian, his trousers barely sagging at his toes, and his all-important Fruit-of-the-
Loom. hanging in the balance. Had his language cost him his briefs? Would sucks doom
his covered , badly-behaved buttocks to full exposure. A wedgie is embarrassing enough-
but a full denuding of all private flesh?

At the utterance of that forbidden word, Danny may have expected an immediate
lowering of the briefs. He got something rather different. Moving the elastic waistband of
the boy panties would have sent the soft tip of his hardened jigger into ecstasy-
something I forbade happen until he endured full pain. And so, instead, I reached for
immediate pain- a pain worse than that of any spanking. I reached for the eggs between
his legs, at first tenderly caressing them and allowing them to hang gently in my right
hand. Initially, it must have felt good because he sighed deeply.

But not for long.
I gingerly cradled his growing grapes with the palm of my hand and then- with all
of Danny's victims in mind and grateful that Danny's vocabulary had given me a further
reason- I began making a fist, with the teenager's sensitive melons trapped inside. Slowly
but surely I began to feel the very softness of his gourmet nuts as they gave way to my
penetrating fingers. There is nothing quite like the throbbing and pulsing of an
adolescent's fully defenseless pecans in your grip. I squeezed them individually and then
I squished them together- then, against each other, as if seeking to grind the two masses
into one.

The lad jolted like never before and screeched with an painful grief unknown to
most spankees. I was careful not to crush them to the point of popping them- but I felt the
tender, masculine orbs vibrate as a heartbeat in my very hand. What power to have an
adolescent's vulnerable honey-roasted peanuts exclusively at my mercy! His severe pain
and my ecstatic pleasure kissed at that very moment.
Danny eventually quieted down as I allowed his delicate gonads to escape my
fist- and as I gently coddled them.
"To bare or not to bare the buttocks," the poet in me proclaimed. "That is the
question."
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo - anything but that!" he pleaded at the top of his
lungs. I beg you- noooooooooo. Anything else but that! I am eighteen years old- eighteen
years old. I am a man!"

He eventually settled down, either because he knew he was doomed or because he
hoped that by settling down I might spare him the ultimate in embarrassment of exposing
and roasting his steaks. He was absolutely right- this was hardly cool for a late teen.
I took advantage of his surrender by shifting his body weight so that his head was
closer to the floor. His feet remained helplessly off the floor while his pubescent V-
shaped fork fell directly beneath my famished eyes. His protruding rear was the best
freebee sample of finger food I had caught sight of in a long time- and it was all mine.
Then- as if by omen- the lad's dangling trousers fell from his ankles and to the
floor. I credit that to the tickle-torture. He winced at this- as if the completion of his
pantsing would surely lead to the completion of his underpantsing.

If Danny was unsure of what was to follow- he soon got the message as he felt the
thumb of my right hand insert itself inside the elastic waistband of his white undies- at
the small of his back, directly above his cleft. These underpants were coming down- and
he knew it- unless he did something extraordinary- and quick. His entire body twisted
and turned to escape my arm around his waist and my two knees supporting his prone
youthful body. But the greatest threat at the moment was not an arm or two knees but
rather a single thumb threatening to lower his precious briefs. In his late teens, he wanted
no part of such an embarrassing penalty.

My thumb rested there, a millimeter away from his crevice- just inches away from
his full rump and alluring asshole. No one had ever confiscated his underpants before- at
least not for the purpose of whipping his nude ass.
I let him wriggle like a worm on a hook, my highly-intrusive thumb lingering
stationary inside the briefs at his waist. I wanted plenty of time for him to wonder
fretfully and for me to savor dreamily the gradual exposure of this bully's delightful
derriere. If and when I see these precious buns, will I be able to resist devouring them-
especially after being warmed by my kneading fingers and toasted with my palm? It's
midday. What a satisfying lunch these engaging cheeks will make. Do carnivorous
cannibals with their cooking oils and boiling pots consider teens as a special treat? Is
adolescent meat more tender that adult? Does gender affect the taste and texture of white
meat- or of dark meat- in any way?

There are several ways in which a petrified adolescent male knows that his undies
are about to be dropped- with the exposure of his bare buttocks to follow. One is the
feeling of the punisher's thumb leaving its stationery position as it ever-so-gently slides
from the lad's waist toward the lad's knees. That is, of course, a dead give-away.
Another sign is the feeling of cool air rushing onto a warm butt.
I gave Danny a third way of knowing- a blunt, verbal prelude.
"Kiss your underpants good-bye, big guy, as I feast my eyes on pure nudity at its
best.. I am going to underpants you in slow motion so that the experience will last as long
as possible for both of us. Think of all the kids you have bullied as you feel your once-
upon-a-time briefs slipping and sliding and gliding down your peach-fuzz legs. Think of
all those wedgies you forced on so many frightened victims."