My weekend of . . . . . . pleasure?

I have just had the most amazing weekend in London that I have ever had. I went to stay with an aquaintance, lets call him Ken to protect his identity.
I arrived at his place at about 1800 on Friday night and had a superb dinner that he had cooked especially. During dinner the conversation covered many subjects, including the tennis championship being held at the O2 arena where Raffa was demolished in his game, the current economy, local crime, etc. Then the subject of punishments was broached. I ventured the opinion that half of these young criminals would benefit from a good, old fashioned hiding. Ken then asked me if I had ever had one. I admitted that I been spanked by my father on a number of occasions and also owned up to being smacked at school.

Ken seemed to express interest at my answer and asked me to describe these occasions and how I had felt about them. I told him about them and explained that it was hurtful most of the time but also humiliating some of the time. "How so?" he asked.
I then told him that on a couple of times I had been spanked hard over the knees of school teacher, with my trousers and pants pulled down around my ankles. This was not in front of the class but alone in the staff room.
"Why was it so humiliating?" Ken asked "Did it hurt?"
"Yes" I said, and then told him that I had stood up from my spanking sporting an erect penis which, when the teacher saw it, immediately pulled me back across his knee and spanked me some more but even harder.
Ken asked me if I ever thought about that moment, and I replied that I had, quite often over the years.
"Have you done anything about it" he asked.
"No I haven't" I replied, not seeing where the conversation was leading.
"Would you like to?" He asked.
I felt my face redden "Erm, I don't know" I said.
"I think you ought to" he said
A funny feeling went through me, hard to explain, my heart started to beat faster. My face seemed to get redder and my penis started to get harder.
"Go upstairs to my room" he says, "Have a shower, dry yourself, then wait for me there"
I went to the top of the house, a three storey building in west London, to his on-suite bathroom, where I took a shower, dried myself and waited, heart beating furiously with anticipation or fear, I don't know which.
Ken eventually came up the stairs, sat on the end of his bed and called me over to him.
"Right lad" he said " Get over my knees"
I nervously lay across his knees, expecting an immediate assault on my behind, but, to my surprise a few light smacks ensued,spreading all over the area of my bottom.
"Is that OK?." he asked.
"Yes" I say.
"Good, because it gets better" he says and continues to smack but increasing the severity gradually until I am writhing across his knees, trying to avoid the incessant blows to my backside. I now have a raging hard on, and I can't help noticing he has as well.
Eventually he stops his attack on my bottom and tells me to kneel on the floor in front of him. He stands, loosens his trousers and allows them to drop to the floor, standing in his underpants with his manhood straining to get out.
"You know what I want" he says "Do it"
I reach up and fumble with his underpants, trying to release what is trying to get out. It suddenly springs out, hard and very erect, and a beautiful example of a cut cock around 7 to 7 1/2 inches long. I take it in my hand and gently enclose the head in my mouth. Ken then starts to gyrate his hips to and fro forcing his manhood deeper into my mouth until I am gagging with the size of it. I then discover that if I open my gullet this monster slips in all the way to the hilt without me gagging. After a short while Ken decides that I have had enough of a good thing and stops me, telling me to stand up. I stand, thinking that was it, but no, he goes next door and returns with what I would describe as a four legged saw horse with an upholstered top. He sets it up, returns next door, reappearing with a flexible leather paddle about five inches wide and about seven inches long plus the handle.
"Bend over the horse and clutch the bottom of the legs with your hands - and don't move" he orders.
I comply.
He then starts to swat my already thoroughly hand spanked bottom with the paddle. I wince in pain, but dare not move. Again the intensity of the swats get harder until I can barely take any more. He senses this and his last two swats were very hard indeed and I cry out - what a wimp! I have taken fifteen swats altogether and my buttocks are on fire.
Ken then instructs me to kneel on the end of the bed and present by backside. I fear another leathering or even a caning, but , to my surprise he rubs some cream onto my throbbing buttocks, soothing it. he also fingers my bottom rubbing something on my sphincter. He then enters me from behind, sliding his manhood deep inside me and proceeds to rodger me with long gentle strokes which I find so enjoyable to my surprise that I urge him on, which he does with gusto, ramming his beautiful manhood in me to the hilt until he suddenly gasps and shudders to a climax, after several shuddering spurts he withdraws and we both collapse onto the bed his cock flaccid and spent and me just absolutely spanked and rodgered out.

This scenario continued throughout the weekend, I had a another spanking on Saturday morning. I was going out to a dinner on Saturday night so received another spanking to remind me to behave myself. I arrived back from the dinner at around one am and was ordered to pleasure his cock as I had on Friday night. On Sunday morning I was again hand spanked before going over the horse again to receive a further hard paddling and order to suck his cock again. Whilst I was doing this I unaccountably felt a strong desire to be spanked again. Ken ordered me to kneel on the bed again and proceeded not to spank me but to swat my tender behind with the paddle again, He finally once again rodgered my burning bottom.

Wow, what a weekend. I have never experienced anything quite like it, but am anxious to repeat it sometime soon. It is now Monday night and there is not a sign of my beatings due to the nature of the implements used and the care and expertise of my tormentor. Thank you Ken!

If anyone would care to offer I am open to an opportunity to repeat the experience with a similar guy to Ken.

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