Medical Spanking

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Medical Spanking
Sessions with Katherine Dire
International Mistress and Hypnodom
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Hypnosis – Naturally occurring altered states of consciousness have been used as tools for as long as we’ve used tools. (I don’t know that’s true, but it’s been a long time.) Hypnosis is delightful and relaxing, and can bend the rules of sensation, perception and promote conditioning and habituation. What do you experience and what would you like to experience?
Pain and Sensation – I am both fascinated and turned on by our relationship to pain, particularly from a neuropsychology perspective. I am very sensitive to the thresholds of my play partners and enjoy both sensitizing and toughening clients to various experiences. I engage in just about any type of physical play you can think of, including medical.
Slave Training – You are, or want to be a good slave, but don’t know how. This is a much more immersive experience than just playtime in the dungeon and requires a full commitment. It’s difficult, but you will truely discover the boundaries of your psyche, know what it means to be a slave, and be prepared to serve the Domme of your dreams.
Taboo : Can’t find a Domme that will do your fetish? No promises, but I’ve been told many times (and if you’ve seen some of my content, you get it) that other dommes won’t do what I’m comfortable with. I always have your safety in mind, and there is an inherent risk in many taboo behaviors. So consider yourself warned and contact me .
Skype / Zoom and phone sessions available.
If you are ready, contact me . I look forward to hearing from you.
Note: I do not grant clients physical access to my sexual organs.
If you have questions or problems using this site, contact my tech support slave .


I was circumcised ten years ago when I was twenty-six, as I suffered
from phimosis (i. e., having an overtight foreskin which made it difficult
and uncomfortable to pull back over the glands of my _c_o_c_k_). I
have mixed feelings about being circumcised now: whilst it is undoubtedly
healthier as it reduces the risk of one contracting balanitis (i.
e,. an inflammation of the penile glans and foreskin), it has reduced
the sensitivity of the glans and, post-circumcision, I find it takes
me longer to get or sustain an erection.
One of the things I hated
most about PE at school – apart from having poor eye-foot eye-hand
co-ordination (which made me useless at ball-games), poor upper-body
strength (which made doing press-ups, pull-ups and swinging from parallel
bars difficult during circuit training in the gym), having weak kneecaps
prone to dislocation (which made me nervous of touching a rugby ball
for fear that my kneecaps might suddenly dislocate underneath a rugby
scrum) which made me the laughing-stock of the whole class, let alone
having to wear shorts (for all sports) irrespective of weather conditions
and take a communal shower with the other boys after each lesson (as
I was conscious that my _c_o_c_k_ was not as large as other boys tools
in my class, probably due to its growth being restricted with my foreskin
being so tight) – was that Mr Sparks, my PE teacher would religiously
punish me every lesson. "Physical Education is not physical unless
I examine and spank you boy", he once told me! Why is it that school
PE teachers, akin to army PT instructors, always pick on the weakest
lad in their class, and quietly gloat as their little charges freeze
to death in being forced to exercise stripped to the waist and wearing
shorts in inclement weather, all the time they [i. e., school PE teachers
or army PT instructors] wear fleece tracksuits?!
Examine and spank
me, Mr Sparks (alias "Old Sparky") would too! Knowing I suffered from
having an overtight foreskin, after I had showered Old Sparky would
make me present myself to him in front of the whole class so he could
pull my foreskin back to make sure I had washed myself thoroughly
underneath, and if I hadnt – with it being very painful to do so –
he would haul me (stark bullock naked) into his office personal changing
room to also give me a rectal examination with a lubricated gloved
finger, before putting me over his knee and soundly spanking my bare
bottom. If, on examining my _c_o_c_k_, it was clean I would get away
with just being given a hand-spanking (in front of my peers in the
Boys Changing Room) across my bare bottom as I lay naked over his
knee for "another abysmal performance" in class, but if Mr Sparks
found any smegma underneath my foreskin I risked either being paddled
with a table tennis paddle or spanked with a Size 11 plimsoll in his
office until my butt was the colour of a ripe tomato all-over after
he had first scrubbed away any smegma with an old toothbrush. Boy,
did it hurt! He would then escort me back to the Boys Changing Room
(with my eyes as red as my butt from crying) to get dressed.
If,
on examining my rectum, Old Sparky found any faeces, he would always
give me an enema bag, sit me on the loo, watch me empty my bowels
and bend me over to roughly wipe my butt clean – as if I couldnt do
it for myself – before giving me a further rectal examination (and
repeating the process again and again) until he was satisfied that
my rectum was clean and empty. "Nice, very nice .... one of these
days I might just be tempted to put something other than my finger
up here" he would tell me; fortunately, or unfortunately for me, he
never did!!!
The discomfort and humiliation I felt on having my
foreskin pulled back and my butt fingered led me to ask my father
– without telling him what Mr Sparks was doing to me, not that it
would have mattered as he would never have believed me – if I could
be circumcised as my foreskin was too tight and felt uncomfortable
either when I rolled it back to wash underneath or got an erection.
Father did not believe me and just said that it [circumcision] was
unnecessary as my _c_o_c_k_ would sort itself out as I became older,
and if I stopped masturbating every five minutes I wouldnt have a
semi-permanent erection! Over several months I kept pleading with
him to let me be circumcised until, eventually, he said he would go
with me to see Dr Pearson (my General Practitioner) to see what I
was making so much fuss about, and duly took the day off work to accompany
me.
Inside his consultation room Dr Pearson insisted on giving me
a full physical examination whilst Father insisted on being present
for the duration of my examination. I was expecting Dr Pearson to
ask me to drop my trousers and underpants so he could examine my _c_o_c_k_
and conclude – as I had, after reading up on phimosis in a medical
encyclopaedia – that is what I had, and Father to wait in the waiting
room to catch a word with Dr Pearson after he had examined me, but
Dr Pearson insisted I take everything off, so he could examine me
from head to toe, inside and out! I felt so embarrassed standing there,
stark bullock naked, in front of Dr Pearson and Father, whilst Dr
Pearson took a good three-quarters of an hour to an hour to examine
me, leaving examination of my _c_o_c_k_-and-balls to last, throughout
which time I was made to keep my hands behind my head and during which
time Dr Pearson noticed a few fading stripes across my bottom where
Father had strapped me a couple of days earlier.
"Do you spank your
son regularly" Dr Pearson asked Father.
"Only when necessary" Father
replied anxiously, "Usually with my hand although occasionally with
the belt if he repeatedly or seriously misbehaves".
"You dont have
to be worried" Dr Pearson assured him, "I have two sons; one is twenty
and the other is eighteen, and I still strap them regularly! All the
time you live in my house you will obey my rules or you will suffer
the consequences I tell them" he said echoing Fathers sentiments to
me prior to giving me a spanking, adding "I usually insist they report
to me wearing their old school gym kit for their spanking and that,
after making them strip naked for their spanking and a suitable period
of corner time in their birthday suits, they wear their gym kit for
the remainder of the day so everyone can see from the marks on their
legs and their having to wear shorts that they have been naughty little
boys and have been treated as such", he chuckled.
"Good idea" Father
said, "Ill try that next time! What was it we were taught at school:
Cold legs and a warm backside are the hallmarks of a well-disciplined
youth"?!
I couldnt believe I was hearing this! I thought that, at
fifteen, I was too old to be spanked: other than by that sadistic
bastard Sparks and my equally sadistic housemaster Mr K [see separate
story entitled The Importance of Self-Discipline]. Certainly in my
class at school I was the only boy still to be strapped at home, unless
no other boy admitted it .... as if I wasnt spanked enough by Old
Sparky at school!!!
When, eventually, Dr Pearson did examine my
_c_o_c_k_-and-balls he concluded there was nothing wrong with my _c_o_c_k_.
I had made a point of having a shower and washing myself thoroughly
underneath my foreskin, excruciating though it was to pull back –
prior to my appointment so it possibly looked cleaner than it would
normally have done after a wet dream the night before, but Dr Pearson
dismissed my protestations that it was painful and told me to "stop
whinging like a girl" when he pulled my foreskin back-and-forth several
times, adding "no sign of phimosis here .... you certainly dont need
to be circumcised"! I was gutted.
"Boys your age are, however, prone
to experimenting _s_e_x_ually" he told me, before turning to Father.
"In order to reduce the risk of your son getting an infection, it
may be worth it if I shave away his pubic hair and the fluff between
the cheeks of his arse, if thats okay with you", he asked.
"Certainly"
replied Father, "youre the expert, though I should perhaps add he
wont just get an infection if I find out hes been sleeping around
with anyone, let alone having _s_e_x_, as he will just as soon get
my belt"!
Dr Pearson smiled approvingly. "You cant do this to me"
I protested, "Everyone will laugh at me for not having any pubes!
What will I tell them"?
"Quiet boy" Father snapped angrily, "Or
you will get the belt sooner than you think"!
It was pointless arguing.
On Dr Pearsons orders I laid down on the examination couch and looked
on, helplessly, as he first trimmed away my pubes before wet-shaving
the remaining stubble away with shaving gel and a disposable razor,
ordering me to roll onto my stomach and pull my bum-cheeks apart so
he could wet-shave away the fluff between them, as Father looked on
approvingly. "Smooth as a babys botty now" Dr Pearson said afterwards.
"Would you care to inspect your sons bottom" he asked Father.
Father
probed between my buttocks and puckered my butthole with his finger.
"If ever you cease to be a doctor you could always become a barber
.... thats a closer shave than I get at Hair Workshop in the High
Street" he joked, "How much do I owe you Dr, or should I say, barber
Pearson"?!
Both men laughed as I quietly cursed the pair of them
with anger. On my way home Father and I did not speak in the car –
a sure sign that I was going to get a spanking when we got home –
and sure enough when we got home the first thing he said was "Get
upstairs to your room and be sure to be ready by the time I arrive
.... or else"!
I slowly climbed the stairs: pissed off at Dr Pearsons
diagnosis and even more pissed off that, despite deliberately taking
a Thursday morning off school (to avoid one of my twice-weekly PE
lessons with Mr Sparks and hopefully future encounters with the plimsoll
or table tennis paddle once I had been circumcised) Dr Pearson had
shaved away my pubes, was not going to recommend I be circumcised,
and that – instead of a spanking from Old Sparky – I was now going
to get a spanking from Father.
Inside my bedroom I angrily stripped
down to my underpants before briefly glancing at my freshly-shaved
balls and butt in the full-length mirror inside my wardrobe door –
wondering how on earth I was going to explain the absence of any pubic
hair to my peers as they mocked me in the Boys Changing Room before
and after PE – before lying face down on my bed waiting for Father,
wondering what Dr Pearsons sons looked like and if, as I assumed they
did, they also got strapped across their bare bottoms.
A few minutes
later Father entered my room and, although we were alone in the house
– with my Mum being out at work and my older brother being away at
university – he closed the door before unfastening his belt, pulling
it through the loops of his trousers, folding it in half and strapping
me twice across the back of my thighs in rapid succession. It hurt
like Hell! "I told you to be ready" he snapped, "Now get those pants
off"! [Like Mr Sparks Father always liked to strap me naked in order
to maximise my sense of humiliation]. I lifted up my stomach and began
pulling down my underpants but was soon overtaken by Father who yanked
them down and off in no time before tossing them on the floor and
pushing me back on the bed, face down.
"How dare you take time off
school and force me to take a day off work, let alone repeatedly lie
to me about needing to be circumcised or questioning Dr Pearsons authority"
he said angrily, "I may not skin your _c_o_c_k_ but I am sure as Hell
going to skin your arse today boy .... and then, like Dr Pearsons
sons, you can spend the rest of the day in your gym kit so everyone
can see from the marks on your legs you have been an insolent little
bastard"!!!
With that, Father gave me twenty blistering strokes
with the folded strap of his belt – mainly across my bottom but with
the odd stroke across the back of either thigh – far more than the
maximum of eight he usually gave me, as he lectured me about the consequences
of him having to take time off work, me taking time off school, and
my lying and being disrespectful to him and Dr Pearson, before making
me stand up so he could examine my _c_o_c_k_ for himself. By now my
_c_o_c_k_ was rock-hard, both with fear and from rubbing inadvertently
against my duvet as I was strapped, although my foreskin had still
not rolled back – which made it all the more painful when Father pulled
it back to expose the glans of my erect member – but that still did
not persuade him that I was right and Dr Pearson was wrong, but only
made him angrier than ever at the sight of my erection. Father grabbed
hold of me by my ear and threw me against the wall before taking hold
of the loop end of his belt and striking my already desperately sore
bottom twice with the buckle. I was then frogmarched into the dining
room where I was made to stand in the corner of the room, facing the
wall opposite the window with the curtains open so anyone looking-in
as they passed by could see me standing there (with my hands behind
my head and butt on show, for about an hour whilst he ate lunch and
read the paper behind me) before Father pushed me over the dining
room table and made me spread my legs apart for a further twenty blistering
strokes with the strap across my bottom and the back inside of my
thighs: one of which hit the back of my scrotum as it wrapped inside
my leg and I saw stars. "Yeeeow" I screamed "that hit my _f_u_c_k_ing
balls you _f_u_c_k_ing bastard"!
Again, this was swiftly followed
by two hard strokes with the buckle end of the belt in rapid succession
as Father warned me "Mind your language boy or I will wash your mouth
out with soap and water and I will continue to use the buckle end
of the belt rather than the strap"! He didnt, thank God, but it didnt
stop me thinking he had damaged my fishing tackle for life as my balls
were swollen and extremely painful for sometime afterwards.
After
the fortieth stroke with the belt I was sent back to my room and told
neither to get dressed nor move from there until my mother got home
from work; I couldnt have got dressed even if I wanted to as my butt
hurt so much that I just laid down on my side – with being unable
to lie face-down as my balls hurt too much to rest against my bed
– and cried myself to sleep. When my mother got home just after 5.00pm
that afternoon I was allowed out of my room but I had to spend the
rest of the day – and all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday (when I was
not at school) – in my gym kit so Father could admire the welts on
my leg
The whole experience put me off approaching any Doctor to
refer me for circumcision until just over eleven years after my examination
by Dr Pearson, and then only because my phimosis was preventing my
then partner (a soldier in the Ulster Defence Regiment) from enjoying
giving me a blow-job, but the day Dr Pearson examined me and Father
subsequently spanked me still ranks among my most memorable childhood
spankings and hopefully gives others inspiration to re-enact the occasion
with me or others.



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Dr.Horrible Spank-a-Long Comic-1 Published: Feb 11, 2013
Someone on my tumblr had asked to see what happened before the last pic I did with Doctor Horrible and I felt compelled to to a whole comic. Since there seems to be a sad lack of Doctor Horrible spankings, I felt it my duty to do my part. Page -1- Page -2- [link] Page -3- [link] Dr. Horrible & Captain Hammer © Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog
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The belt..that freaken belt! that belt noise was the scariest part! Of childhood xD


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