Gusspank
07-04-2011, 10:35 PM
I've mentioned it in passing beforehand, but here it is, my report of today's session with Kraker. Needless to say an enjoyable time was had by all. I hope I can convey some impression of that for you all. Well, here goes.
The Kraker Wakes..
(With Apologies to John Wyndham.)
And we're off to see the wizard..
I had been mulling it for some time before, but it was the videos for "Spanking a Sissyboy" that Kraker had posted, which provoked my motivation to experience this spanking phenomenon personally. After watching the second episode, it is fair to say that I had an urgent burning desire to submit to his tenderizing mercies and be placed in his red-bottomed trophy cabinet!
Lines of communication were opened, a date was quickly agreed, and a draggingly long three week wait commenced. In the interim, I had purchased a pair of fancy panties which could have been found adorning the bottom of a slightly older and more knowing version of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. This would have an interesting bearing on the session itself.
Almost imperceptibly, the day of reckoning crept up, the 7th of April 2011. The Thursday dawned bright with an early spring promise. A gritty-eyed Gusspank is hitting the road, having had far too little sleep from the night before. It often goes that way before a session, especially a first time visit, you know how excitement piles on top of nervousness, with the sensible rational need for sleep getting shoved aside for a while. Before you actually get to sleep, half the night has gone.
The journey is straightforward, the arrival is more or less on time. A friendly face greets me at the door. So far, so good. A short interval with coffee follows to allow me to decompress from the longish drive up. The cup is put down, the dregs swirling around, as I am sent upstairs to get changed for the session ahead.
Uncle Kraker's dressing-up box..
From looking at his gallery, I guess that either a lot of cross-dressers favour Kraker's special brand of chastisement, or else he encourages people to dress up for the occasion. I'm not a natural cross-dresser, you just have to look at the pictures on his gallery to see that, so apart from my 'Dorothy' panties, I've not brought anything else. Happily, the changing room is the spare bedroom features an exciting bundle of female clothing of various sizes and varying degrees of tartiness.
Most of this is authentically female in size, and has a thankless task in being draped around my pie-attracting frame. Nevertheless, I manage to find a short skirt and a pair of black stockings that fitted to make myself semi-presentable. It seemed to work. The anticipation was heightened by this process of trying on and dressing up. In my opinion, the 'changing room' is a really nice touch to get the right mood at the start of the session. Between going up to the bedroom and the return trip downstairs, my name had changed to 'Dorothy'!
Implement impressions..
I'm not going to detail the session stroke by stroke. This would be a tad mechanistic and not so exciting for you to read. However, what I will do is to recall the various stages and stinginess of the punishments, as they were belaboured onto my poised buttocks. I was promised a full set of implements, and as far as I recall, I got these!
If I've missed out anything, I'm sure Kraker can arrange another session to help me remember!
Hand Spanking; Is the traditional way to start and warm up. I'm kneeling comfortably, buttocks in the air and panties hoisted up and feeling very conscious of these pressing into my bum-crack. The spanking was satisfactorily heavy and moderately painful, not unpleasant in fact.
Strap; This was the giggly and overexcited little brother out of all of the punishment instruments. It stung, but without leaving a lasting impression. This would still be a part of the warming up.
Slipper; The first of the really heavy hitters comes out to play next. A substantial and bruising impact over a wide area, like a hand-spanking but much more so. Very painful if repeated in the same place for several blows. I can understand why generations of school P.E. classes feared the slipper. I had been given a safe word to use beforehand, but I grit my teeth, writhe and hang on.
Intermissions leading to emissions; Between the different implements, Uncle Kraker likes to relax for a bit. He also likes you to help him relax in some intimate ways and takes a very close and personal interest in your development as well!
Crop; The crop is an interesting one. It leans towards the power level of the strap as a more lightweight instrument. However, this crop is wielded by a master. After a leisurely start, a veritable torrent of blows rains down on my poor and rapidly reddening bottom (the pants are off by now.) I am being dealt with by a man who is deeply into his 'art' and might be getting a little bit carried away. Still it's all part of the fun. A deeper breath than usual is taken after this gale of pain!
The three stages of the cane; Of course, the beast, erm, best is being saved to the end. I'm to get a round dozen each, from the junior, intermediate and senior canes.
I count out the first dozen as they lash down. The junior cane should not be underestimated as it manages to sting and burn at the same time. It is quite a formidable instrument. Time appears to slow down as the count continues.
The medium cane, for me, was the hardest of them all to bear. The safe word bobbed close to my lips as the strokes fell, I bit them back, determined to see this out and at least get to try out the senior cane before cravenly collapsing. The magic dozen is reached somehow.
Before the senior cane picks up where the others left off, Uncle Kraker spends a few minutes manipulating to gently break my pre-session abstinence, the 'Dorothy' knickers serving a second purpose in capturing my spurting sticky liquid.
The senior cane fell with due weight and for the full dozen, but the memory of pain seems to recall less clearly to me than the instruments which preceded it. Maybe it was anticipation for the end of the session, perhaps combined with the ecstatic after-effects of some other kind of 'relief'!
Uncle Kraker took one look at his handiwork, expressed satisfaction and decided that his errant niece deserved some cooling-down with a special "soothing lotion", which was applied in copious quantities over my buttocks! :D
The session summed up..
Worth the trip? Hell yes! I was almost bouncing with glee all the way back home. Then tiredness caught up with me and I crashed. I'm alright now and writing this report in record time, it only stings a bit!
Kraker, in the flesh, is as intelligent, pleasant and personable as his online personality suggests. This feeds in nicely to his role-playing and delivering of the spanking. We had another coffee and a very enjoyable post-session chat about spanking and non-spanking matters. Kraker is a genuine gentleman who would be great company even outside of the spanking scene and I am extremely glad to have met him.
Gusspank - April 2011.
The Kraker Wakes..
(With Apologies to John Wyndham.)
And we're off to see the wizard..
I had been mulling it for some time before, but it was the videos for "Spanking a Sissyboy" that Kraker had posted, which provoked my motivation to experience this spanking phenomenon personally. After watching the second episode, it is fair to say that I had an urgent burning desire to submit to his tenderizing mercies and be placed in his red-bottomed trophy cabinet!
Lines of communication were opened, a date was quickly agreed, and a draggingly long three week wait commenced. In the interim, I had purchased a pair of fancy panties which could have been found adorning the bottom of a slightly older and more knowing version of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. This would have an interesting bearing on the session itself.
Almost imperceptibly, the day of reckoning crept up, the 7th of April 2011. The Thursday dawned bright with an early spring promise. A gritty-eyed Gusspank is hitting the road, having had far too little sleep from the night before. It often goes that way before a session, especially a first time visit, you know how excitement piles on top of nervousness, with the sensible rational need for sleep getting shoved aside for a while. Before you actually get to sleep, half the night has gone.
The journey is straightforward, the arrival is more or less on time. A friendly face greets me at the door. So far, so good. A short interval with coffee follows to allow me to decompress from the longish drive up. The cup is put down, the dregs swirling around, as I am sent upstairs to get changed for the session ahead.
Uncle Kraker's dressing-up box..
From looking at his gallery, I guess that either a lot of cross-dressers favour Kraker's special brand of chastisement, or else he encourages people to dress up for the occasion. I'm not a natural cross-dresser, you just have to look at the pictures on his gallery to see that, so apart from my 'Dorothy' panties, I've not brought anything else. Happily, the changing room is the spare bedroom features an exciting bundle of female clothing of various sizes and varying degrees of tartiness.
Most of this is authentically female in size, and has a thankless task in being draped around my pie-attracting frame. Nevertheless, I manage to find a short skirt and a pair of black stockings that fitted to make myself semi-presentable. It seemed to work. The anticipation was heightened by this process of trying on and dressing up. In my opinion, the 'changing room' is a really nice touch to get the right mood at the start of the session. Between going up to the bedroom and the return trip downstairs, my name had changed to 'Dorothy'!
Implement impressions..
I'm not going to detail the session stroke by stroke. This would be a tad mechanistic and not so exciting for you to read. However, what I will do is to recall the various stages and stinginess of the punishments, as they were belaboured onto my poised buttocks. I was promised a full set of implements, and as far as I recall, I got these!
If I've missed out anything, I'm sure Kraker can arrange another session to help me remember!
Hand Spanking; Is the traditional way to start and warm up. I'm kneeling comfortably, buttocks in the air and panties hoisted up and feeling very conscious of these pressing into my bum-crack. The spanking was satisfactorily heavy and moderately painful, not unpleasant in fact.
Strap; This was the giggly and overexcited little brother out of all of the punishment instruments. It stung, but without leaving a lasting impression. This would still be a part of the warming up.
Slipper; The first of the really heavy hitters comes out to play next. A substantial and bruising impact over a wide area, like a hand-spanking but much more so. Very painful if repeated in the same place for several blows. I can understand why generations of school P.E. classes feared the slipper. I had been given a safe word to use beforehand, but I grit my teeth, writhe and hang on.
Intermissions leading to emissions; Between the different implements, Uncle Kraker likes to relax for a bit. He also likes you to help him relax in some intimate ways and takes a very close and personal interest in your development as well!
Crop; The crop is an interesting one. It leans towards the power level of the strap as a more lightweight instrument. However, this crop is wielded by a master. After a leisurely start, a veritable torrent of blows rains down on my poor and rapidly reddening bottom (the pants are off by now.) I am being dealt with by a man who is deeply into his 'art' and might be getting a little bit carried away. Still it's all part of the fun. A deeper breath than usual is taken after this gale of pain!
The three stages of the cane; Of course, the beast, erm, best is being saved to the end. I'm to get a round dozen each, from the junior, intermediate and senior canes.
I count out the first dozen as they lash down. The junior cane should not be underestimated as it manages to sting and burn at the same time. It is quite a formidable instrument. Time appears to slow down as the count continues.
The medium cane, for me, was the hardest of them all to bear. The safe word bobbed close to my lips as the strokes fell, I bit them back, determined to see this out and at least get to try out the senior cane before cravenly collapsing. The magic dozen is reached somehow.
Before the senior cane picks up where the others left off, Uncle Kraker spends a few minutes manipulating to gently break my pre-session abstinence, the 'Dorothy' knickers serving a second purpose in capturing my spurting sticky liquid.
The senior cane fell with due weight and for the full dozen, but the memory of pain seems to recall less clearly to me than the instruments which preceded it. Maybe it was anticipation for the end of the session, perhaps combined with the ecstatic after-effects of some other kind of 'relief'!
Uncle Kraker took one look at his handiwork, expressed satisfaction and decided that his errant niece deserved some cooling-down with a special "soothing lotion", which was applied in copious quantities over my buttocks! :D
The session summed up..
Worth the trip? Hell yes! I was almost bouncing with glee all the way back home. Then tiredness caught up with me and I crashed. I'm alright now and writing this report in record time, it only stings a bit!
Kraker, in the flesh, is as intelligent, pleasant and personable as his online personality suggests. This feeds in nicely to his role-playing and delivering of the spanking. We had another coffee and a very enjoyable post-session chat about spanking and non-spanking matters. Kraker is a genuine gentleman who would be great company even outside of the spanking scene and I am extremely glad to have met him.
Gusspank - April 2011.