My first spanking story was written sometime in the early 70s. Back then, I was still typing them on a typewriter and got my inspiration from magazines like Janus or Kane, which found their way onto the shelves of German porn stores from England. The topic has stayed with me ever since, and so a whole collection of stories and novel fragments emerged that eventually became books – and still are.

Back then, the term „spanking“ was still completely unknown in this country. People spoke woodenly of „flagellantism“, a term derived from some penitent monks who thought they had to flagellate themselves again and again for their inherited sin. They were called flagellants and the idea of sin and atonement was probably the leitmotif of people who also saw a certain sexual appeal in it from the very beginning.

At some point, the PC keyboard had taken the place of the good old Olympia typewriter, one of the first scanners had converted the old manuscripts into electronic form and there was a folder in my PC with the harmlessly cryptic name „Flag“, the meaning of which was only known to me. I kept my secret tendency carefully hidden from the world around me, because somehow I considered myself a „pervert“, even if I wasn’t plagued by guilt complexes.

Actually, for many years one thing was clear to me: putting a woman over my knee to spank her ass grandfather-style was a typical male fantasy. It seemed somehow natural to me that the man had the active part here, while the place of the daughter, mistress or wife was at the receiving end of the cane, strap or whip. Wasn’t it the case for centuries that the father was the person of respect in the house and the mother threateningly uttered the words: „Just wait until father comes home“? At best, our parents got a slap in the face from our mother. The real spanking, however, came from father’s hand. After all, he was the master of the house and until the 1950s he even had the right to chastise not only his daughter but also his wife if he saw reason to do so.

A few years ago, when I started to compile my stories, episodes and tales into books and offer them to the scene, I actually assumed that my readership would mainly consist of men.

I was all the more surprised that a good three quarters of my readership consisted of women. Even the occasional letters to the editor were almost exclusively from women. I even had a lively exchange of ideas with some of my many female readers. I was particularly surprised because my titles are not about some kind of playful version of a sexual relationship between people who somehow tick in the same direction. No, this is about tangible punishments. It’s about the old image of guilt and atonement. It’s about men who call the shots and women who have to comply, otherwise …

This is clearly not just a male fantasy, but to a large extent also a female need.

If you want to write to me, you can do so discreetly using the form below. I won’t out anyone either.