Curiosity Causes Carol Considerable Pain

But 'Oh the pleasure' in the end, (No pun intended) . A true but cautionary tail of fantasy, curiosity, pain and finally a dawning of a personal pleasure, when a young lady summons up the courage to try and find out what she missed as a teenager at school. (Do not rush to try this – if you have ever remotely considered doing what Carol did, think again, be very sure and extraordinarily careful before you agree to any kinky or in any way doubtful sounding proposal from strangers – or even persons who you think you know well. It could, and has for some, been fatal).

When I started secondary school, at aged thirteen, it was the first year after corporal punishment had been not only been officially frowned upon in state schools but also legislated against in all places. The private school I attended had continued with this form of discipline well after some state schools had bowed to the pressure of a small number of parents and had finally stopped using it only when they were legally obliged to.

My sister, who was three years my senior, had been at the school in the days when the girls were frequently punished by teachers with a strap or cane and when even prefects were permitted to use the strap under some circumstances. During the two years prior to my starting, this privilege had been reserved for teachers and only the Principal had used the cane, with a teacher or Board of Governors member present, and then only for extreme cases of misconduct.

Now the only form of discipline was detention, high-level discussion with a girl's parents or some form of suspension or expulsion. The older girls at the school were full of stories about how things had been in 'the old days'- many of which I thought were very exaggerated and seemed quite unbelievable - but I was aware from my sister, who had on two occasions been on the receiving end of some serious spankings, that they were far from being just gentle slaps on the bum and, as I had observed for myself, capable of leaving reminders that lasted for some days.

My parents were quite strict disciplinarians in their own way, but usually used nothing more than their hands or, on very rare occasions, a strap. I was not what you might call a model of perfect behaviour but had not caused my parents too much grief (or had managed to avoid their finding out about most of my misdemeanours) and had therefore evaded feeling the worst of their possible punishments.

I had been spanked on my bare thigh and even given two strokes with the strap on my backside on one occasion (not bare – over my pants) but the worst I had received was six (three on each hand) with the strap from my Mother. It had hurt for a few minutes, but nothing lasting! Never had I had to resort to bending over and getting strapped on my bare bum although I do remember that happening to my sister on one occasion and could see the effect that it had on her.

This spanking of my sister had taken place the previous year and had come about because she had been caught during a lunch break with a small group of other girls smoking and talking about their 'grown up exploits' (all imagined I might add) in a quiet corner behind some classrooms. The prefects had reported them to a teacher who had come and caught them and, after some consideration, had decided to refer them to the Principal as there was at the time a campaign going on to try and stamp out smoking by students and she thought that it may be an opportunity to make an example of them.

The four girls had been taken onto the stage in the hall in front of a special assembly of the whole school and had each received six strokes of the cane from the Principal. They were apparently bent over to grip their ankles and were steadied and held by a prefect. Their skirts were lifted and they received the strokes over just their pants. From all reports the strokes were very hard.

That was immediately after lunch. They then had to go to their afternoon classes as normal and report to the principal after school when they were given letters to take home to their parents informing them of what had happened. These letters had a piece for the parents to sign that they had read them and the receipts had to be handed back to the Principal the next morning. Failure to do so – or being caught trying to forge a parent's signature would have brought swift retribution – after a call to the parents concerned.

She had come home still very tender and sore from sitting on a hard chair for the afternoon. I could see that she was very upset but she would not tell my exactly why. When my Mother read the letter she was furious and immediately sent my sister to her room with instructions to get her homework finished before Dad came home because she doubted if she would feel like doing it after he had had dealt with her.

Mum showed Dad the letter and they sat down in the dinning room and had a long talk. We were not able to hear what was being said but the outcome was my sister being called down and being given a long talking to before Mum went and got the strap and called me in to sit and watch 'what happened to girls who did such bad things'. (In case I ever had any ideas about trying something like that).

Mum unceremoniously removed my sister's pants and draped her over the back of a dinning room chair, firmly holding her hands in place on the seat. Her skirt was pulled clear and, sitting on a chair behind all this action, I cold see five distinct parallel welts across her backside, from the very top of her thighs to almost the top of the crease of her bum. On of these stripes was extra angry looking and seemed wider and at a slightly different angle and I realized that this was where the sixth stroke had landed almost on top of an earlier one. It looked very painful.

Dad then, without further ado, gave her twelve very hard straps across her bum and upper legs. Each time the leather struck my sister screamed and bucked and Mum had great difficulty in holding her in place. Her backside turned from blotchy pink to red and almost purple as the strap flattened the soft flesh and even the raised welts from the earlier caning.

At then end of the twelve strokes, Dad told her to stand up – "quickly, because the dinner that your mother has cooked for us is spoiling" – handed her the strap, telling her to put it away and freshen herself up and to be back sitting at the table in five minutes ready for her meal. After dinner she had to do all the dishes on her own and then go straight to bed. Nothing more was ever said about the incident – my parents did not tend to 'harp on' about such things, they were done and over.

The next morning I slipped into my sister's room and she agreed to show me the lines and bruises from the cane and the strap. She was very stiff and tender for some days and even the slightest bump in that area caused her to grimace. I was both fascinated and horrified. I think that even at that stage when the visual effects of her punishment was still making me vouch that I would never want to receive such a beating, I was still secretly fascinated and wondering just what it really felt like!

In an attempt, I guess, to try and retain some degree of order, the school clamped down on behaviour in the only way left available to them and I received a few detentions – all for quite minor transgressions. These usually involved staying in and either learning some long and dull poem, writing lines or walking around the grounds picking up rubbish. In truth, at the time, this seemed to be worse than getting spanked. It took up valuable time when I might have been with my friends enjoying myself (although very often my friends were also doing detention) and in a perverse way I wondered what it would have been like to just get a spanking and get it over with. We were not to find out, of course.

I thought very little more about corporal punishment over the next few years and completed school then went on to university. This was a new and different environment where my peers were a varied bunch with all sort of different, sometimes radical, ideas and opinions. Some of their behaviour was very 'way out' and there were a few who seemed to enjoy, at least talking about, a range of 'kinky' things, including what I learned was generically called BDSM.

Certain magazines and books on this and other somewhat dubious subjects came through my hands and I sometimes sort of fantasised about spanking and some lighter forms of submission in addition to but none the less very closely associated with sex. I was still a sexual virgin and you have to understand that these were fleeting, passing thoughts and I never really considered anything seriously.

I graduated and started work. As a young, educated, liberated but still virginal lady of twenty-three, who had for four years lived in student accommodation and flats away from home and who was now sharing a flat with two other girls while working in a city some way from the small town where my parents resided, I had the freedom and means to be able to think more seriously some of the things that had previously been nothing more than passing daydreams.

Strangely, the fantasy of spanking seemed at that time to be stronger than any sexual one. Quite possibly because I did not have any particular boyfriend and there was no one who caused me to think about the pros and cons of loosing my virginity. On the other hand, I appeared to be brought into contact with articles and information on BDSM – even although I was not aware that I was actually actively looking out for them. The thoughts about what it might be like to receive a firm spanking – perhaps like my sister had that time – often seemed to come to mind and I found myself fantasising more and more frequently about such possibilities.

It was during the winter, wrapped up (almost disguised) in scarves and hats, that I started to look through some of the very dubious shops that I had seem and which appeared to cater for people with all sorts of perversions (for want of a better name) including what I thought I may be looking for. Some of these carried advertisements from people who were looking for the same things as me and/or offering to provide the services to them. I carefully read through these and debated about trying one.

As I considered it more, the desire to experiment in this activity – which I rationalised, was safer that experimenting with sex – grew. Very soon I was completely hooked on the idea and totally committed to actually trying to arrange for a meeting with one of the people who was adverting. I thought carefully about how I would go about arranging this and determined that I would have total control over the 'experiment'. Of course, I totally ignored the fact that came through in all the written accounts I had read of such encounters - that I was going to be the submissive and that, in such a case, I would have very little actual control if the dominant person decided to be difficult.

I chose several persons to contact and started to very carefully, I thought, find out more about each and their 'services'. For some reason I had no special preference at that time for the ones that were obviously either male or female. I had the impression that persons who were dedicated to this activity did not, as a matter of course, indulge in sex. I was therefore equally 'safe' with either gender – so I thought. I sort of thought that an older person might be more sensible about what they did and have more respect for the (client – victim – what would I be called) and generally safer and more responsible to be around.

I telephoned several and was somewhat put off by their voices or attitude in all cases except one. Then I e-mailed some others and considered their replies (where they came – several did not respond for some reason). In the end I made arrangement to meet with two of them, separately of course, on neutral ground -in a coffee lounge of my choice.

The first was a man of somewhat indeterminable age – I would guess late fifties, but he could have been older – and he sounded very nice on the telephone. He was very polite when he met me and seemed to be understanding and caring. I was very anxious making and keeping the appointment but he quickly put me at ease and answered my nervous and awkward question in a mater-of-fact and reassuring manner. He said that he was a retired headmaster from a large school and I could easily believe that was the case as he has a very calm and almost 'fatherly' way about him. I said I would think about it and call him.

The second was a lady who had come across as pleasant in my e-mail contacts with her. I was less worried about meeting with her as a stranger, as it would seem much more natural to anyone watching than it may have when I met with a man. She was quite nice but came across as very severe in personality and somehow quite frightened me. Still, I was not sure and said I would contact her if I decided to go ahead with my fantasy – which both of them seemed to be very happy to call it.

I mulled the matter over in my mind for several days. The man had told me that he had a wife who would be present if I wished – and that was sort of reassuring. He seemed nice enough. Trustworthy I would have thought. The lady was much more businesslike and this made her seem more threatening, but on the other hand she seemed to understand exactly what I had in the back of my mind and she was very comfortable talking me through what she envisaged and what I would need to do in the way of planning before a visit to her.

Neither mentioned anything about sex and I assumed from my reading about the subject that was because sex generally did not constitute part of such encounters. Both said they had premises that were "central and discreet". The final decision to go ahead with my plan was easy – I was feeling more and more turned on with the whole idea the more I thought about it and after a few days

I was so aroused and almost desperate to proceed as quickly as I could. I was so anxious that, even after deciding it may be safer and less threatening to go for the lady, when she e-mailed back to me and said she would be unavailable for two weeks, I immediately telephoned the man and made an appointment to see him the next evening, which was a Friday.

He provided his address, told me what to wear and how to act when I arrived. I hung up the 'phone still shaking and highly excited. Sleep that night was difficult as I first wondered if I was doing the right thing – or at least a wise thing - and then became lost in a highly arousing series of fantastic dreams – both awake and asleep.

All during Friday I felt a combination of fear, excitement and anticipation, while my stomach seemed to churn and I was unable to eat properly. I went home from work, showered, dressed in nice underwear (no stockings) a white blouse, a knee length pleated skirt and medium healed shoes. I made up carefully and leaving in plenty of time so as to not be late, I bussed the short distance to the area when he lived and found the address.

I was a little early and took the opportunity to look more closely at the property from the opposite side of the street as I walked by – trying to look as if I was just walking along the road going somewhere else. It was just on dusk and in the half-light I could se that that the neighbouring house were separated with a wooden fence about four feet high and a large number of medium sized shrubs.

The house was of an older style, built over a garage that had been excavated in to the rising ground and was approached from the front gate through a narrow strip of well-maintained flower garden and a partly obscured front door. Anyone going in to the property at that time of day would be un-noticeable once they were through the gate and, even if there was a light shinning through the front door when it was opened, they would not be distinctly seen from the road.

I looked at my watch, crossed the street and walked back to the house, and as casually as I could entered the gate, went up to the door and, heart aflutter, I knocked. There was a movement inside and a lady – probably about the same age as the man I had met – answered the door. I stuttered in a voice that seemed to fail me and huskily whispered that I was Carol. She smiled, very sweetly, and said, "Come in. We are expecting you."

Inside I was led to a small, warm sitting room with comfortable old furnishings, and invited to sit down for a few minutes.

I sat where she indicated and, quite naturally, glanced around the room noting the fact that it seemed totally 'normal'. There was no hint that this was anything but the sitting room of a regular, average, run-of-the-mill older middle-aged couple. My mind had wondered a little but was brought back to reality when I heard the lady saying, "Do you understand all that".

What had I missed as mind had wondered? "Excuse me", I said, trying to recover the situation, "I was admiring the lovely room you have here".

She glared at me and went out of the room for several minutes, returning with (I presume) her husband – the man I had met. Both of their manners had changed noticeably and I immediately understood that my 'time' had begun. I leapt to my feet and turned to face them.

"At least you had the decency and respect to be on time", said the man – very gruffly. " Just as well, or you would have paid for it". His wife added ominously. "You know why you are here and that your own actions have led to this situation", went on the man – glaring into my eyes. I recognised the double meaning of that comment and, somewhat frightened by his manner, replied, "yes".

"You will address me as Sir. It's Yes Sir", he snapped back at me, "And you will address this lady as madam". I stood silent. "I see she has trouble with her manners as well as her hearing", he said to his wife, and, turning back to me, "hold out both your hands – straight in front of you – about a foot apart – stiff elbows, flat hands – keep them there and very still". Taking a ruler, about eighteen inches long that his wife handed to him he cracked it down firmly on my right hand. The speed that he acted caught me by surprise and the sudden sting caused me to gasp and withdraw my hand back against my chest. Without warning and before I had really reacted to that first hit, the ruler pounded down on my left hand and made me yelp with pain and withdraw that hand as well.

"Did I or didn't I tell you to stay perfectly still"? He asked and when I just looked at him blankly, wondering why he expected me to have no reaction to the spanks, he turned to his wife and said, "She is worse than I thought. We had better take her in hand right away".

As I stood there the lady repeated what she had apparently been saying earlier. "You have come here for correction and, although you may see that as trying to fulfil a fantasy (as you put it) we believe that anyone who has that desire really has an underlying need to atone for some transgressions. It with that understanding that we agree to punish you as we see fit.

Obviously you have come here of your own volition, but we also have to protect ourselves against people who might try to gain from us by some sort of trickery. We therefore ask you to read, complete and sign this statement. If you agree to the terms that we place on your coming here there will be no turning back – unless you give the signal."

She then asked me my age as at the nearest birthday. "Twenty-three", I replied. (My actual age). "Date of birth"? I gave this and she looked at the man and then me. "In one month she will be twenty-four but she tells us her nearest birthday was twenty-three. She is already lying to us".

She changed the figure on the form to twenty-four. "We believe that from the time a person becomes a teenager they should and must be capable of being responsible for the actions. You became a teenager the moment you turned thirteen. Therefore we deduct twelve years from your age to the nearest birthday, which, in your case leaves twelve years of being responsible. All punishments will therefore be in groups of twelve.