Interview With a Spanko: Punishment Therapist

This interview with Dr Desmond was conducted in 1994, when he had a practice out of a room in upstate New York.

Okay, let’s get a few things straight. I spank men for money. I’m not gay. I’m married with two, now grown-up sons. I don’t do sex. People pay me to spank them because they feel the need. I offer a service, not so different from the fellow who comes to fix your plumping or serves you hot dogs from a stand on a street corner.

I used to spank people for fun. Then one day after I’d dealt with a middle-aged guy, he gave me money. I declined to take it but he insisted. He said it made him feel more comfortable if this was a business transaction. Maybe he was worried that I might think he was gay. He had made a point of telling me about his wife and child.

I hadn’t thought that people would pay for this (how naïve I was back then) but I reckoned if one person would then maybe others would. I put a few ads in local newssheets and boy did business boom! Who knew there were so many straight guys into being spanked by men.

I started spanking for fun in the 1960s when I was still at college. A lot of the boys did. These were the days of fraternities and paddles. We didn’t have frat houses at our college but somehow the paddles made it. We would ‘discipline’ one another for real infractions. A roommate might be told to assume the position for swats for not doing his share of the housework or leaving dirty dishes all over the lounge; that kind of thing.

It gradually grew from that. I was the spanker even in those days, but such was college life at the time it was near on impossible to escape getting a toasted rear-end now and again. One time I came home drunk and forgot my key. I had to wake everybody to get in.

The following evening there was a house meeting and I was the sole topic on the agenda. I knew I had let my roommates down and had it been me woken up at two in the morning on a school day I would have been mad as hell. “Ten swats,” somebody suggested and that was that. A unanimous decision taken in a moment.

We had two paddles. One was not much bigger than a hair or clothes brush. Sometimes, a collegemate would be ordered to drop trou. and go over the knee of a fellow. The paddle was small enough to be very effective at close range. One time I witnessed Rowley, a wiry boy of twenty take one heck of a pounding. There was a suggestion (not denied, as I recall) that he had been taking food from cupboards in the house that did not belong to him. I have no idea if he took it because he was hungry and unable to afford his own, or whether he was just a thief. Anyhow, we decided that he was just a thief. Matt, a six-foot-six inches basketball player, did the honors. Rowley really looked like a little kid draped over Matt’s lap with his face staring at the floor and his legs dangling in midair behind him. He might have been nineteen or so but he was so small compared to his spanker he looked about fourteen.

Down came his underwear and the spanking commenced. Let me just say that by the time Matt was through I had never seen a butt so red it could glow in the dark.

My own paddling was not so dramatic. “Assume the position.” This time it wasn’t Matt it was Johnson, a quite studious young man who went on to become a college professor. The position meant to stand legs apart and bend at the waist and grab the ankles. This had the effect of tightening the leg and buttock muscles and presenting a rear end at a perfect angle to receive swats of the wood.

The paddle was the kind of thing being used in frat houses at the time. It was made of maple (I think) and maybe a couple of feet long. It was big enough that you could use both hands to get a real powerful swing. And that’s exactly what Johnson did. Pow! The heat in my ass as the wood connected with my stretched trousers was intense. After four or five swats my head was swimming. This was my first experience of a spanking high. I now know all about endorphins, but back then the only experience we had was smoking dope. That was fun, but the sensation induced by marijuana was nothing compared to spanking.

Spanking was the norm back then. Most parents spanked and the paddle was still prevalent in schools and not just across the South. I spanked my own kids. The last time I put Joey across my knee he was twenty-years-old. He was a college kid and home for the vacation. He’d borrowed my car (with permission) for the evening and when he came home, I could smell the booze on him. If the cops had stopped him he would have been on a driving under the influence charge. My god, he could have had an accident. He could have hurt someone; he could have killed himself.

Next morning after he had sobered up and showered, I took him to the den. There wasn’t much to say, he admitted he had tied on one or two beers too many. I guess he expected me to say he couldn’t use the car again. Instead, I told him quite simply that I intended to spank him. He gave me the “I’m too old …” routine. I don’t think his heart was in it, he knew he had screwed up and he knew he needed to be punished. To cut to the chase, he lowered his jeans and his underwear and, on my instruction, positioned himself over the back of an armchair.

I had no paddle available and the belt I wore was a flimsy thing so I had no choice but the use my wife’s hairbrush. It made a fine substitute paddle and I quickly warmed up Joey’s rearend. He was repentant and that’s how it should be.

Some of my clients are like my son, they have screwed up and feel they can’t go on until they have been properly punished. It might be problems with booze, or cheating on a wife or girlfriend. Sometimes it’s to do with work. They’ve missed a deadline on a project or a report or some such because they haven’t put enough effort into it. It’s their fault and they carry the guilt with them. A sound spanking from me can get them back on the straight and narrow.

But maybe most of my clients come because the spanking reduces their stress. Their jobs, their wife, their kids, all combine to make their lives unbearable. In this situation some people might turn to drink or pills. My clients have learned that a good spanking releases hormones (endorphins as mentioned earlier are the best known) and that gives them a natural ‘high.’

Many of them are in jobs where they are in control and this causes anxiety, I think they like to relinquish control now and again and what better way than to go over the knee of another man for an ass toasting.

Nearly all my clients are middle aged or older. I suppose with the fees I charge they’re the only people who can afford it. Not that younger men wouldn’t benefit from a sound spanking. You only have to go into any town on a Friday night to see how men in their late teens and twenties behave. We’d have a lot less rowdyism if there was a ‘paddle patrol’ on the prowl. Responsible citizens who joined together in groups to police the streets. Unlike the real cops, they could administer swats to offending rowdies. I have no doubt that would quieten our streets in no time.

But with my business I don’t have time for that. Let someone else follow up on that idea. You can have it for free.

 

Picture credit: Kernled.

Other stories you might like:

Interview with a spanko: For Hire

New Law for Crime Victims

Paddling at Moosetown

 

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Traditional School Discipline

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Charles Hamilton the Second

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