Dear Scarlett Hill... I am a bisexual woman because of my first adult spanking experience. It wasn't intended to be a lesbian experience in any way, but it became one & allowed me to see the pleasure I could get from another woman.

The following memory has become a cherished treasure. It is true.

It was 1972. I was 19 & in my sophomore year as a resident student at a small, parochial college. It was a coed school, & while religion wasn't forced on the students as far as classes or attending services, the religious overtones ensured a strict code concerning on-campus behavior, especially in the dormitories. "Co-mingling", as they put it, between male & female students was very much discouraged, as were parties, loud music, etc.

To ensure everything stayed orderly, each dorm had one resident faculty member, called a dorm advisor, as well as upper classwomen on each floor known as dorm assistants. Needless to say, the dorms were almost always quiet.

The college was not completely scholarly, but parties were confined to weekends at one or more of the fraternity & sorority houses located off-campus. With our studies, that usually sufficed, but, on those occasions where we had no classes the next day or just wanted to have some fun, there wasn't much to do except go stir crazy. Or break the rules.

It was on such a night that my dorms mate & friend Julie & I decided to have a party of our own. We weren't of legal drinking age, but it was not difficult to find someone to buy liquor for you, & we decided to listen to music & relax over a few bottles of beer I had squirreled away.

We were talking & laughing when Julie decided this was a special occasion & called for a special treat. She left briefly, returning with a twinkle in her eye & something concealed in her hand. When she giggled & showed me the marijuana joint she held, I wasn't surprised. There wasn't a lot of pot smoking on campus, but it wasn't unknown. I had tried it once before & it hadn't had much of an effect except to make me choke.

I had no reluctance to try it again now, except that I was dressed for bed in a short teddy & it was past midnight. Julie was similarly attired & I told her it wasn't worth getting dressed, rushing outside, & getting back in by the 1:00 AM curfew when all dorms were locked. Having to explain why you were late to our dorm advisor was like going through the third degree before the puritanical council.

Miss Findley was an accounting professor in her late thirties, fairly attractive, but one conversation was all it took to know she would probably be a spinster until the day she died. She wasn't a nun, but she might as well have been because she was the holier than thou, fire & brimstone type that gave off the instant sense that any transgression, fun, or frolic would inevitably result in the culprit being sentenced to eternity in the fires of hell.

Running into her tonight would not be wise, Julie agreed, but she added that we didn't have to go outside anyway. She insisted we could smoke the joint in the room without anyone knowing. I wasn't that hard to convince I suppose, so we ended up hanging out the window, smoking & giggling & having a great time.

We'd finished, closed the windows, & settled back into a goofy-fun banter when a sudden, insistent knock on our door rang through the room. We both were instantly alarmed, knowing it was far too late for casual visitors. Quickly realizing we were trapped, we both froze for a moment, but then Miss Findley's voice demanding we open the door sent us frantically running to hide the beer bottles & even spraying some perfume to cover any traces of the marijuana's pungent smell. It didn't occur to us then that by making so much noise, & taking so long to answer the door, we had only given Miss Findley cause to be more suspicious than she would have been otherwise.

I went to the door after one last, quick look around & opened it a crack. Miss Findley was standing there like an avenging angel. Rigid as a statue, she stood with arms asked what was wrong, but she wasn't in the mood to wait in the hall & pushed into the room before I could even think of stopping her. As she brushed past me, a quick movement in the hall caught my eye & I saw Susan Church, Miss Findley's pet student & dorm assistant for the floor above ours, standing there.

Her smirk was wide enough for me to instantly realize she was the cause of Miss Findley's intrusion, & I cast her a quick, withering glare before Julie's worried voice caught my attention. With a small amount of satisfaction, I closed the door on Susan & her smirking curiosity. She may be able to find out everything that happened later, but I wasn't light-headed enough to let her see the live show.

Miss Findley never wasted a second, especially when in the pursuit of exposing misdeeds, so she immediately began questioning us in her thorough manner. Julie & I tried to explain, leaving out the beer & joint, of course, but Miss Findley cut us off, ordering us to approach her.

We had no choice &, when we both were close enough to smell Miss Findley's talcum powder, she made each of us exhale & nodded as our beer-soured breath confirmed our guilt. She asked us where we'd put the bottles, & when we pointed to a closet, she carried the four empties back to my desk & lined them up like a monument to our guilt. All the while, she berated us for foolishness in defying not only school policy, but also state law.

Miss Findley had that type of domineering personality that made everyone feel small, but that night she was in rare form. Julie & I could only stand there, wanting to vanish into thin air as she read us a riot act that had our knees knocking. As scared as we were at that moment, it soon was replaced by an even stronger sensation: sheer terror.

Miss Findley asked us point blank if we'd been using drugs. Julie & I both started at that, having had no warning that she even suspected. We tried to lie - honesty is not always the best policy! The school expelled students caught with any kind of drugs - & held to our story until Miss Findley told us to be quiet. She told us she knew we were lying & she was not going to stand for it. Telling us to be seated at our desks, she proceeded to search the room.

Julie & I were beside ourselves by now because we had put the butt of the joint in the garbage & we felt sure Miss Findley would find it. Looking at Julie, I shrugged & whispered we'd be better off telling her before she did.

We were both on the verge of tears while we admitted what we'd done. Miss Findley became angrier than I'd ever remembered seeing her, her voice cold & flat as she demanded to know if we'd lost our minds & then proceeding to explain why we had to.

I'll never forget how I felt at that moment: with tears rolling down my cheeks, I saw all that I'd worked for gone, my parents trust & pride shattered, my future ruined. One silly mistake would haunt me forever & cost me more than I'd ever considered. I've never felt worse in my life, before or since.

Miss Findley let us both wallow in misery for several minutes before telling us to be quiet & beginning a new interrogation. By the time it ended, she knew everything she wanted to about us, watching us closely as we responded to her specific questions &, finally, sitting back to regard us with a disappointed frown.

The agony of the next few minutes was unforgettable. Our only hope was that the sincere begging & pleading we'd done would find a bit of mercy in Miss Findley. She knew we were good kids, reasonably good students, & both came from nice families. I was praying like I never had before when Miss Findley suddenly spoke. She confessed to being undecided, knowing the rules & what she should do, but reluctant to impose such a harsh penalty on us or our families for one act of irresponsibility.

Julie & I almost jumped up in glee while babbling in agreement, but Miss Findley just looked thoughtful & said we weren't off the hook yet. I told her I'd go to confession, say a rosary, do anything she wanted if she'd let us off & Julie promised the same.

Miss Findley listened, said confession was in order, but that Hail Marys would not due as penance for a such a serious crime. Looking at us, she said we deserved exactly the same penance her mother gave her for gross misbehavior when she was 19: a spanking!

Julie & I weren't prepared for that, but neither did we hesitate to offer ourselves for a spanking if that's what she wanted. Neither of us was "into" spanking then, but it seemed a small price to pay compared to being expelled & convicted as drug offenders. Miss Findley didn't accept our offer. She just looked at her watch & told us to be at her room in one hour. She would inform us of her decision then. She left with the marijuana butt in her hand & a last pronouncement that we two had put her in a very difficult position & she was not pleased.

Julie & I spent the hour commiserating, hoping, & praying that Miss Findley would decide not to turn us in. We talked about any penalty Miss Findley could concoct - including being spanked! - & agreed anything would be less humiliating, painful, or damaging than being expelled & having a drug offense attached to our records forever.

The hour finally passed & Julie & I made our way through the empty halls to Miss Findley's apartment. It was going on 2:00 AM, everyone else was asleep, & all was quiet except for the drumming of our hearts. Miss Findley, being dorm advisor, had a suite of rooms separated from the main dorm. The door adjoined the main lobby, & as we paused in front of it, we both were thankful for the late hour.

Our knock was immediately answered by a call to come in. Miss Findley had been waiting for us, & as soon as we closed the door she began berating us again for what we'd done to ourselves, to our families, & to her. She was angry, but more than that, she was genuinely concerned & disappointed. I'd always thought she was a heartless fanatic, but I'd been wrong.

The lecture lasted ten, long minutes. More than once, I bit my tongue to keep from asking what she planned to do with us, knowing better than to interrupt, but anxious to know my fate. Finally, she said she'd prayed & thought for the last hour & decided the best course of action was to deal with us herself.

Julie & I interrupted her with heartfelt thanks & promises to do anything, but she again told us to be quiet until she was finished. She warned us that we might decide otherwise, & then proceeded to list her demands, one by one while we nodded agreement to each: First, we would both agree to a spanking right then. Second, we would agree to present ourselves here again each of the following four Thursday nights for similar treatments. Third, we would be on probation for the rest of the semester & would agree to present ourselves for inspection before retiring each Friday & Saturday night.

Being a thorough accountant, Miss Findley had typed up a short confession & agreement that we both signed. Before the ink was dry, she took charge again & ordered us to follow her into the small kitchen area. Once there, she pulled out a kitchen chair & sat down, arranging the skirt she now wore so her knees were covered. I noticed for the first time that Miss Findley had very strong looking hands & without thinking, put my own hands back to cover my bottom. I had no allusions that she was going to easy on us, & I remembered how much a spanking hurt from childhood memory.

Julie & I stood there like two deer trapped in headlights, wondering who would be first & how bad we would be spanked. Miss Findley looked up at us & asked if we'd ever been spanked. We both admitted we had, but not for many years. She said we were in for the spankings of our lives & we believed her. She mentioned her mother's spankings again, saying she was thankful for guidance & promising she'd use the same thorough approach on us right now: starting with us stripping & then followed by a spanking that would reduce us to truly repentant & tearful little girls!

We tried to plead, but Miss Findley would hear none of it, & soon both Julie & I were standing naked, blushing to the roots of our hair, before Miss Findley. She asked which one of us had owned the marijuana, & when Julie admitted it was her, Miss Findley told her she would go second. Julie's face fell at that & I knew why. Like me she wanted to get the spanking over with as soon as possible.

Miss Findley called me to her side & firmly guided me over her knee. She was around 5'7" & I'm 5'5" & our builds are similar, but she was stronger than I by far. I was surprised at how easily she moved me on her lap until she was satisfied & then pinned me in place, seizing my wrist in a grip of iron. Julie told me later that I let out a whimper of fear, but I don't remember anything except the scorching heat & pain I felt for the next ten minutes.

Miss Findley's mother must have spanked her often or she just had a photographic memory, because she gave me the spanking of my life that night. None of the others I received from her later were near as bad, but every one ended with me crying hysterically, pleading & learning a genuine lesson: never to do anything to get put back over Miss Findley's knee!

Only a moment after she'd pinned me, she began spanking. Her hand felt like iron & I screamed with the first two scorching slaps. I am no heroine, & by the fourth series of slaps I was howling, kicking, & pleading for mercy. My backside felt like it was consumed by the hottest fires imaginable, but again Miss Findley proved me wrong. Her hand kept rising & falling, increasing the searing temperature in my seat with each fanning swat.

I struggled for survival, but Miss Findley kept me right there & smacked my backside without pause. She alternated cheeks with two quick swats, then paused to let the sting set in fully before landing the next two. Each time she double smacked, it felt like she'd covered every inch of my bottom, but she proved me wrong yet again by spreading her attention until I felt like all bottom: all hot, stinging, cringing, painful bottom.

Hot, salty tears were rolling down my cheeks when she paused to scold me, lecturing both Julie & I on the fruits of our foolishness. I answered her questions eagerly, hoping she would let me up, but instead she resumed spanking my anguished ass. She spanked methodically, I saw later, landed her two smack assaults side by side & up & down until she'd covered every cringing inch of bottom. From the sensitive top to the fleshy lower curves of my cheeks, Miss Findley didn't miss an inch time & time again until I lost control & dissolved in fitful sobs of anguish, trying to plead, but unable to get any words out.

I don't know how long she spanked me after my surrender. The rest of my first spanking at her hands was a blur until she released me & ordered me to the corner. I was still sobbing so hard I didn't realize Julie's spanking had begun until some time later when I quieted enough for Julie's howls to penetrate my ears.

Once they did, I looked back over my shoulder & blushed in renewed embarrassment. Julie was pleading like a little girl, kicking her legs violently, & revealing herself in the most humiliating fashion & I knew I had done exactly the same thing. I winced with each spank Miss Findley administered, feeling it even as Julie did, & reaching back to protect my flaming fanny.

Miss Findley proved her strength & endurance by giving Julie as thorough a spanking as she had me. Julie wasn't any braver than I had been either. She was a squirming, sobbing, very chastened girl by the time Miss Findley stopped, admiring her handiwork with a satisfied expression on her face. Julie just lay there, her bottom cheeks wriggling spastically & redder than I ever imagined skin could be.

A moment later, Julie joined me facing the wall & there we both stood for a good ten minutes while Miss Findley again read us the riot act. I'd never felt so embarrassed before. And I haven't since. Even the other spankings Miss Findley gave us - we both earned more than the originally agreed upon four! - were not as bad as that first one. They were just as thorough but, I suppose, because we knew what to expect, they didn't seem as awful.

Miss Findley only let us go when she was ready. In spite of our burning bottoms, Julie & I beat a hasty retreat back to my room & hugged each other in consoling misery. It was my idea to try soothing our bottoms, so I told Julie to lay on the bed while I lifted her gown & started spreading cold cream over her crimson cheeks. That was the first time I had felt how hot a spanked bottom can be, & as I slowly worked the soothing cream over her cheeks, I realized how good her soft skin felt under my hand.

Julie's gasps of relief at the first cool touch of the cream & my hand gradually changed to murmurs of delight & encouragement. Almost automatically, her hips moved, slowly at first, with my hand & her legs opened slightly. Without thinking about it, I found my fingers dipping more deeply into the crevice of her pouting bottom & almost into the secret valley between her legs.

Julie's gasps, moans, & sensuously wriggling hips invited more exploration, & soon my fingers were bringing her toward a passionate release that left us both breathless-- she from release, me from longing. When Julie ordered me to replace her for my turn, I was nervous & anxious & excited. She had magic fingers, too, & in a moment the heat of my bottom was soothed & so was the heat of my passion.

After that night, each spanking session in Miss Findley's rooms were followed by a soothing session in mine that evolved into Julie & I becoming lovers as well as friends. We remained so until after college &, over that time, spanking became both an erotic delight & serious disciplinary method in our relationship. Neither of us became purely dominant or submissive, but either way, we both learned to enjoy the spanking itself or, in the case of genuine discipline, at least the soothing afterward.

Oh, & for the record, neither Julie & I ever touched marijuana or any other drug after that fateful night in 1972. When Miss Findley taught a lesson, it stayed learned. And I wouldn't have it any other way! -- Ms. V.S., MA

P.S.: I want to add a special thank you for your open forum policy. It is only because of some of your personal ads that I felt comfortable enough to send this. Of course, I realize you may not decide to use it, but just the possibility is a very welcome change. Keep up your good work!