How I Started Spanking My Neighbor

This story starts BEFORE the spanking. Not a swat in this. But you might enjoy how it came to be that I spanked a neighbor of mine, a cop with a big hard butt, for almost three years.

What I like to share about it the most is how it started, because it was purely organic. Not on a website or app. I had no idea what he liked until I discovered his needs and went for it, making him my boy down the street.

It started the day he moved into a house across the street and five doors down from mine. I saw the moving van at his house and then noticed him. It was hard not to notice him; a muscular guy working in a t-shirt and jeans. He looked good from what I could see. He was unpacking the truck alone with no one to help him. So I walked down to see if I could lend a hand.

I met him in his garage. Good looking but not handsome; muscular and jockish, but not a body builder; a thick ass that that was right between a bubble butt and well-muscled globes. I got over myself and stopped checking him out long enough to introduce myself and offer help. He was glad to accept. He had planned on his ex-wife’s brother helping out, but the divorce was still new and everything was awkward. The guy didn’t show so Chad was alone trying to get into his new rental house.

When I had offered help he said, thank you sir. I wasn’t much older than him, but I appreciated his manners. Being called Sir always gives me a little chubby too.

He didn’t have much stuff for the house. Just some boxes, luggage, and a sofa. It didn’t take long to get it all inside. However he had an entire gym of equipment that we set up in his garage. As we set it up we both took turns doing different reps and exercises. It was fun. And a few more times, he called me Sir which was interesting. We were enjoying the workout and each other’s company and we were getting sweaty. His ass was sweaty too. The jeans were clinging to those round butt cheeks and pressing into his crack. I was getting hard and needed to get my head out of it before it became awkward so I invited to my house for a cold drink and to meet my wife. He came over and we passed some time. I stepped out of the room to piss, when I came back to the kitchen I heard my wife say, It makes me feel safe knowing a policeman lives across the street. Did you know Chad’s a cop honey?

HOW HOT IS THIS?! A PHAT ASS COP MOVED INTO MY NEIGHBORHOOD!

When he headed back to his place he asked if I wanted to work out again the next day, and if maybe I would go to RC Willey with him. He needed some furniture and a TV. Of course I wanted to; it would be a great way to spend a Saturday. I noticed he used my name when with my wife never called me Sir.

He bought a lot of stuff. He had to fill his house and try to make it comfortable for his two kids that he only got to see every other weekend. As he shopped we talked and he was occasionally calling me Sir again. He arranged for same day delivery and everything was being loaded on a truck for delivery in three to six hours. So we headed back to his place to work out and wait for the stuff to arrive.

We parked in the drive and went in through the front door. The house didn’t look different at all. He hadn’t unpacked a thing. Then we headed out to the garage. He had done some work out there. He had gone to home depot and bought a work bench and a big swamp cooler and a small fridge. He had unpacked his tools and set up his new work bench. The place looked great. Right above the work bench hanging on the wall with tools was a frat style paddle with the letters ROTC on it. It was hung as the center piece to the wall, nothing discrete about it. It was supposed to be noticed, even commented on. I complimented him on the new garage.

Thank you Sir, my garage has always been my man cave, my place to get away. So I got it set up first.

So, you were in ROTC?

Yes Sir, at Florida State. But I never served in the military; I went to the police academy after I graduated. He flicked on the swamp cooler and the garage filled with a whirr of the fan and the stifling hot air started to cool.

That paddle, looks like it’s important to you.

Yes Sir. It has been for a long time. I have always been able to count on that paddle to show me the right way to act as a man Sir. That is, when I have had a man around willing to swing it. But it has been a while since I’ve felt it Sir.

Well, perhaps we should change that young man.

Perhaps we should Sir.

I stood for just a moment, but it felt like forever. The air was thick with our exchange of energy. I looked him in the eyes. He didn’t blink or move a muscle and I could see a yearning in his stare.

Fetch me that paddle boy.

Yes sir.

He walked to the bench, reached up and carefully took the paddle off the wall by the blade. He carried it to me and offered me the handle. I took it from him and slapped it into my palm a few times.

This is a bitch of a paddle boy.

Yes Sir. Could I suggest we start with a set of twelve on the seat of my jeans Sir? I haven’t taken licks in a long time and need to build back up to long sets. But don’t be afraid to hit me hard. My ass is built for it.

Assume the position young man.

And he did – perfectly. He bent all the way over grabbing his ankles. His head was up looking forward. Legs apart, knees slightly bent his thick, strong ass rounded back forming the perfect target. I touched the wood to his rump and took aim......and that’s how it all began.