My First Time: Spanking

I have been trying very hard to remember the first time I was spanked, and I’ve been having a difficult time. I wasn’t really spanked as a child, and the times that I was, I don’t remember them. Blocked them out perhaps? I want to say that first person to spank me since was probably the boyfriend I had that gave me my first (well, second) enema. Though I can’t imagine him doing it as a punishment thing. He probably did it more so as a sexual thing. I’m not sure I even knew that I was more into the punishment style situation than the spanking itself. I’m pretty sure he would have been the first to spank me because he was the first I really started to explore anything out of the ordinary with. I was quite open with him and if I told him about my enema interests and explored those with him, I’m quite sure I did the same with spanking. I can’t remember a specific account of anytime that he spanked me though. I’m pretty sure the first person that spanked me for punishment was the same guy that I first experienced figging with. Though the BEST spanking I ever received was about a year after that. I was in college and at the time, I was quite the wild girl. I liked to party a lot, and serial date. I, once again, met a man online that shared the same interests as me. I was going to school in southern NY and he was from northern PA.
After talking online for sometime I invited him up to meet me. We agreed to meet in town at a public place. He had to drive to me because I couldn’t have a car on campus my freshman year. It was about a 2 hour drive for him, if I remember correctly. He picked me up from college and we drove about a mile to town and went to a bar. He was about 10 years older than me, which was perfect in my opinion. We wanted to have one neutral meeting to decide if we wanted to start seeing each other regularly and where we wanted to take this. We hit it off so we decided to get together again. The next time he was going to pick me up and take me back to his place in Pennsylvania for the weekend. It’s lucky he wasn’t a murderer!
He set rules for me to follow while I was at school. I had a curfew, no swearing, and a few others that I can’t seem to remember. Regardless, I broke them. He lectured me for part of the trip from college to his appartment. He told me as soon as we got to his place he was going to have me take my clothes off and stand in the corner. That’s exactly what he did. Then he got out a few of his implements and had me go into the living room where I got over his knee while he spanked me with his hand. It wasn’t long before my bottom was on fire. Then he had me follow him into the bedroom where he again put me over his knee and spanked me with a small paddle that he had. My butt began to bruise quickly. He continued to lecture me about rules and respect and then finished by having me bend over the couch for a spanking with a ruler. My bottom was seriously purple for a week. It hurt to wear pants! It was the hardest I had ever been spanked, but I have never felt like such a naughty little girl since. That’s what I’m striving to achieve with my husband now. We’re getting there!

My First Time: Enema

This is another account of one of my first experiences that has not happened in my relationship with my husband. I had my first experience with an enema as a small child, though the first sexual experience I had with them was when I was 17 with my boyfriend at the time.
When I was 3 I was constipated a lot. My mom told me on the way to the doctors that she had planned to tell the doctor that I hadn’t been going to the bathroom. I begged her not to because that subject was so embarrassing to me. She told the doctor anyways and her solution was to have my mother give me a fleets enema. I didn’t know what that was, but I didn’t like the sound of it. I even remember the first thought that popped into my head after the doctor said “enema” was, “which end does that go in. . .?”
That night my mother called me into the bathroom. If I remember correctly, she had to chase me around the house a bit to get me to comply. Then she read the directions to me, which said I could either lay on my side with my knee up or get on all fours. I liked the get on all fours plan better because that way my mother couldn’t see my face. I was so embarrassed by the whole situation even at 3. She put down a towel, put vaseline on the nozzle and had me get into position. She then inserted the nozzle and started squeezing the small fleets enema bottle. I immediately started to whine and complain that I had to use the bathroom. She told me she had to give me almost the entire bottle. I cried. She finally let me up to expell and she stayed in the bathroom with me while I did it. When I was finally finished I left the bathroom and went into the kitchen with a tear streaked face. My grandmother and great grandmother were in there playing cards and my grandmother said “aww, enemas aren’t fun, are they.” I was so embarrassed.

To my knowledge that was the last enema I had received before I was 17. I hated the enema I had received when I was 3 but there must have been something about it I liked because it had been a sexual fantasy of mine for a long time. I had not admitted it to anyone prior to my boyfriend at the time who admitted that he was also a fan of anal play. I’m not sure how we finally got to it, but one night he suggested giving me an enema. I was shy and embarrassed, but I agreed. His step-mom was a nurse and he had a syringe enema in his bathroom. So he filled up a big bowl with warm water, put a towel on his bed, and had me take off my pants. He gave me the majority of the water in the bowl and then let me run downstairs to use the bathroom. When I got back upstairs he asked me to give him one. This was the first and only time I had ever stuck anything up a man’s ass. It was quite out of character for me, but I felt obligated to agree. So I gave him an enema as well and then let him run to the bathroom. He gave me a few enemas after that as well, we both enjoyed it.

My First Time: Figging

Though this is not an account of something that has happened in my relationship with my husband, I would like to share a few of my firsts that got me into the things that I am today. The first time I had experienced figging I believe I was about 18 years old, perhaps a few months before. I had met a guy on the internet (I had no fear then) who was also into spanking, and different types of punishment. We talked for a while via internet and phone until one day we decided to meet. We didn’t live too far away from each other but we decided to meet in the middle in a semi-public place. We met for lunch at a pizza place. He was a bit older than me, about 25 I believe, sort of on the short side, but he wasn’t bad looking. He was intelligent, very dominant, and we seemed to hit it off pretty well.
I don’t remember what exactly it was that I was doing, but I know he had to leave at some point to go to work. I was doing something that he considered “misbehaving” and he told me that if he had to take me out to the parking lot to punish me, then he would have to punish me again, at a later date, for making him late for work. Needless to say I didn’t stop what I was doing so he had to punish me. He took me out to my car, we got in the back seat where he made me get over his lap and he spanked me bare bottomed right there in the parking lot. It hurt, but it was exactly what I had been looking for.
We said our goodbyes and agreed to get together again within the next couple weeks. We continued to talk on the phone and discussed what we wanted to do the next time we got together. Looking back I was very naive and stupid because I agreed to stay the night with him at a hotel for him to “punish me properly.” He had told me that not only was he going to spank me, but he was also going to take my temperature rectally, use ginger root on my bottom, and give me an enema. I was nervous and scared, but more than excited. He had me pick up the enema equipment and ginger root as part of my punishment. I was to tell the cashier what the enema was for to humiliate myself. The poor girl didn’t even know what an enema was and when I told her, her response was, “well at least you know what you’re looking for.” It was awful!
So we met, again about half way in the middle at a Super 8. We got the room and he immediately got down to business.
He started by pulling a chair into the middle of the room. He then took out the thermometer and placed them on the nearby table and sat down on the chair. He instructed me to come over to him. He pulled down my pants and pulled me over his lap where first took my temperature and then he spanked me until my bottom felt like it was on fire. He took my temperature once again to see how much it had gone up from the spanking. He said if it hadn’t gone up enough he would continue to spank me. I’m not sure he ever said how much it was supposed to go up but apparently it was high enough.
After that he went into the bathroom to start shaving down the ginger root to be inserted into my bottom (AKA figging). He had me standing in the corner while he did this and came out to swat my bottom a few times because I kept turning around to look at what he was doing. Then he had me kneel on the bed while he inserted the fig. He spanked my bare bottom while he had the fig in. It burned quite a bit but it kept falling out. It wasn’t a very big ginger root and he shaped it more into a wedge than a butt plug. So he kept putting it back in and finally he pushed it in too far. . .and we lost it. . .We were both very freaked out. I went to the bathroom to try to expell it, to no avail. He was going to manually remove it, but I wouldn’t let him. Instead I suggested he just give me the enema he was already planning to give me to get it out. He agreed. He prepared the enema bag with just warm water and hug it on the towel rod. He had me get on the floor on all fours while he inserted the nozzle into my bottom. I cramped up pretty badly while the water entered me. After it was done he left me to expell it in private. The fig did come out. . .
We didn’t do too much more that night. He spanked me a few more times and we messed around a bit in bed. The next morning we went to breakfast and said our goodbyes. He stopped talking to me after that. Perhaps because he got all he wanted? Perhaps because losing the fig really freaked him out? Perhaps he just wasn’t interested anymore? Not sure. But that was my first experience with figging.