Laura, Philip - and Judy.
By October, I had been with Philip for four lovely months, and I was happier than I had ever been in my life. I began to want to give him something really nice to show my love for him. I decided that my gift should be an attractive new concubine of my own age.
At the end of September 1955, I started as a first year at Leicester Uni. Gazing at the imposing building on University Road, I was reminded of what the Personnel Officer at Bardon Quarry had told my father,
"You know, that building was the old Leicestershire County Lunatic Asylum – and that, as far as I can see, nothing much has changed from that day to this.
We endured a whole day of registration procedures, and introductory faculty and department meetings, the result of which was to fatten my hitherto empty briefcase with a sheaf of syllabi and booklists.
Father's colleague had one good tip at least, and I took the booklists straightaway to the University Library; registered once again, and, as one of the first freshers off the starting blocks, came away with half a dozen essential, and very scarce, textbooks on short-term loan.
The only other bright spot in an almost unremittingly dull week was the Freshers Bazaar, when all the university societies and clubs set out their stalls to attract new members.
Standing around the Hockey Club stall I saw two familiar faces – rivals from other local school teams. Ginny Weatherall from Wyggeston Girls, who beat us in the semi-finals this May, and Valerie Massey, from Market Harborough, whom we beat both years, although, admittedly, we might not have fared so well this year if their goalkeeper had not been ill at the time.
Ginny, Val and I greeted each other with delight and went off to have coffee in the refectory; our new common bond making old rivalries seem irrelevant. When we had first-year tryouts a week later, we were all picked for the freshers team, and pitted against the University Hockey team in a match soon after. By this time my mind was working overtime and a plan was forming in my mind.
A couple of afternoons a week, when I didn't have a two-o'clock lecture, I would walk down New Walk to Philip's office and we would make love over the desk or on the carpet. Only the spanking was obligatory, sometimes Philip would only have time for me to give him gam.
Sometimes; the best times; he would take give me a good shagging and then bugger me to repletion. It was those times when I acted on Denise's suggestion, always to carry some tampax in my handbag to sop up the spunk so that I didn't have to sit in it all afternoon.
Then I would walk back to the University for an afternoon seminar, or a couple of hours in the library, wondering with an inner grin if any other girls had tampax up their bums that afternoon.
Midweek I could always get a night with Philip, as Aunt Hilda was perfectly happy at the idea of me staying over with a friend in Hall. This gave us the opportunity to play a game, Maybe with Denise, or maybe with just the two of us. I would sometimes go home to Ashby at weekends, but if I did I would always catch the bus back to Leicester for the middle of the day on Sunday.
Sunday afternoon was our most important time of all. After a bit of lunch, I would get down on my knees in the middle of the carpet in front of Philip, and confess all my little sins and misdemeanours. Philip would listen, ask questions, and pass sentence.
Then I would get my punishment; so many strokes of the cane, so many of the tawse, and I would be forgiven and start again with a clean slate for the next week. Then Philip and I would just lie on the bed and cuddle, with his hand caressing my sore back and bottom, his cock within easy reach of my tongue.
Four weeks into the term. I decided that I should make a move to find Philip's present. The hockey team seemed a good place to start. On the Wednesday we were playing a friendly game against Sheffield University's first-year side. I was playing midfield, my best position, and Ginny and Val were also picked.
Our captain was Judy Daitches, the centre-forward - brave as a lion on the field, and a perpetual clown the rest of the time.
I told Philip I might stay over on Tuesday night, so I met him from work. We went back to his flat, and settled down for an evening. I already had half an idea of how to provoke him into giving me a real thrashing, and my opportunity came.
I was sitting astride him on the bed, and riding his cock. It felt really good and I was sorry to have to break it up; but sacrifices have to be made. I licked my fingers, getting them really wet. Then I leaned over and started to caress his balls. Then I gently slid a fingertip into his bumhole.
Philip hates having his anus touched – he doesn't even like me kissing it – and I knew pretty well what would happen. He took me under the armpits and flung me off his still erect cock.
I landed half on, half off the bed and slid ungracefully onto the floor. I know it is silly, but, although I had deliberately created the situation, I was already starting to cry quietly for having so annoyed him.
I got the beating I had asked for. Without a word he took me over to the bedroom door and cuffing my hands, hooked the cuffs over the hook for his dressing gown.
He took the tawse and started to whip me across the shoulder blades. One or two of the swipes went under my armpit, and I could feel the tawse wrap its two tails around my right breast with a slap like a clap of thunder.
This wasn't one of our games; this was a punishment, and I cried and cried, and begged forlornly for forgiveness as he beat my back and then he took the dragon cane and raised welts on my buttocks and the tops of my thighs.
The beating did not take long, but I had never experienced anything so intense in my life. When he was finished, He looked as upset as I felt. He laid me down face-downwards on the bed, and gently soothed the raw areas with arnica cream.
"God," he said, "that went a lot too far. It was lucky I didn't hit you across the kidneys or you'd be pissing blood. I really shouldn't beat you when I'm angry like that. I'm dreadfully sorry pet. If it ever happens again you must use our safe word and stop me. Promise me."
"Darling", I said, "It wasn't your fault, it was mine. I am so sorry for upsetting you. Please, please forgive me."
I felt so guilty for deceiving him and tricking him like that, but for the time being I had to go on pretending that it was an accident or an oversight.
"I'll forgive you, if you'll forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive my love; nothing at all. Now, will you show me you forgive me by letting me suck your beautiful cock?
He did better than that. In the next two hours he took me through the card, and left me wrung out, sore all over, and blissfully satisfied. I felt no inclination to move, so I phoned aunt Hilda and told her I was staying overnight with a friend.
When Philip fell asleep, I lay awake and had another little weep over lying and deceiving him, and just hoped that the ends would justify the means.
