by Captain Birch
This is a true story in which I tell how I met her and how our interest in spanking developed.
Well, meeting Celia was certainly a unique experience. I was writing up a play for a local paper in South Wales. Celia was in the cast. The play was - er - not particularly good but Celia was the best thing in it. She had an English Rose prettiness; pleasant speaking voice; good stage presence. I remember writing 'I hope to see more of her'. It never occurred to me in a million years that I would get to see ALL of her!
To my amazement the producer asked me to the cast party. Someone introduced me to Celia and I found her as pleasant in real life as she had been on stage. We shared an interest in theatre and film, were both going through divorces and got on rather well. She was intelligent and witty and I was starting to think I would love to see her again if she would like to see me.
'Could I give you a lift home?' I asked her at the end of the night. 'She thought you'd never ask!' roared a slightly tipsy leading lady.
We did not go straight to her house but drove up to a vantage point with a terrific view over the town and the harbour. I was beginning to think that this relationship had a lot of potential in it and decided to hasten slowly. I wanted us to have a well developed relationship before anything intimate took place. Then the most incredible thing happened and I have no explanation for it.
In response to something she had said I said 'You want to be tied up and spanked, I think!'
I could not believe I had said that and was working on how to extricate myself. Then she said 'Yes, it has always been my fantasy but I have never been able to do it. You are the first person who has ever guessed. How did you do that?' 'Good Lord', I said 'I have absolutely no idea.'
I took her home and kissed her chastely on the cheek before leaving for my own place. 'Would you like to go and see <film name> on Saturday?' 'I would love to.' she said and the relationship duly took off.
Some weeks later, when we were lovers, she raised the subject. 'Do you remember how you knew I fancied spanking?'
'Yes, wasn't that incredible?'
'Well would you like to try it?'
Actually I had no experience, as she did not, so we tried it a few ways with increasing success and eventually worked out a spanking scenario which excites me to this day when I think about it. Celia would always initiate it.
We might be doing food shopping in Marks and Spencers on a Saturday afternoon. She would drop a code work into the conversation, casually and always in a very understated way. She would say something like 'There is a lot of friskiness around today'.
That would start the ball rolling. The anticipation would start. Maybe a half hour later I would say 'no, not sure about friskiness'. She would cast her eyes down as we both received a frisson like an electrical charge. 'Maybe, you're right' she would say perhaps no friskiness today' and we would finish off the shopping with no reference to friskiness but a huge anticipation for what was to come.
In the evening, perhaps at the Grand Theatre, she would whisper 'there is friskiness, you know' I would look at her quizzically. 'My cunt in frisky' I would look at her in horror. At half time over a drink I would say something like 'this friskiness must be brought under control or the sternest measures must come under consideration'. We had evolved this Victorian gentlefolk sort of patter which we always used when we were 'in role'. She would giggle like a schoolgirl - she was terrific at playing a part. 'Now Celia, there is to be no more talk of friskiness, is that clear?' She would look downwards ashamed and say ' I am sorry there will be no repetition.'
But as the lights dimmed again she would whisper 'It's no good, my cunt is very, very frisky indeed!' I would give a serious and stern look and we would say no more. However, I would have an erection for the rest of the performance and, as Celia told me herself, she would be dripping wet with anticipation.
Later, when we got to her place we would go to the Play Room. This was the spare room where she also kept her collection of erotic literature... and other things. We would kiss and cuddle in a very loving way until the time was right. It was always she who provoked it. 'My knickers are very wet you know.' 'And why is that?' I would ask innocently. 'It is because of my frisky little cunt' she would say. 'Celia!' I would say this is disgraceful and if you are not careful I shall have to use the sternest measures to correct your behaviour'.
'Well you can't because my cunt is too frisky and what's more I want to wriggle my bottom'
'Over my knee, young lady!' I would say sternly and pull her fully clothed into that wonderful controlled position. 'Now, Celia I want to see that you can lie like that and not move a muscle, not a single one or I shall perforce have to punish you.'
She would wriggle her bottom in a very schoolgirlish way and giggle provocatively. Now just below the bed there was a swishy cane. As she wriggled I would say 'Now do you want the cane?' She would say something like 'I am going to wriggle and you can't stop me.'
'Right!' I would pull up her dress to reveal her bottom. She was very fond of wearing crutchless knickers when we went out and I, of course, would be shocked to find them. 'This is not authorised underwear' I would bluster. 'No, she would say but it makes it easier for the boys' 'Boys?' I would say, 'you have been going out with boys wearing these extremely naughty knickers.'
'Oh yes, the boys all like them.'
This would be the trigger for a caning on the bottom, but she liked it best with her knickers on and, of course stockings and suspenders. The more she wriggled the harder she would be caned until at last she would say 'I am corrected now, I am good.' 'Oh, but it doesn't end there' I would tell her. You have been very naughty and I must show you what the boys will do to you if they catch you wearing naughty knickers.
'Oh?' she would say 'and what will they do?' I would then put the cane aside. Her role play would turn to one of total innocence. Mine to the caring avuncular but stern teacher.
'You have no idea?'
'No, would it be nice do you think?'
Stand up Celia and close your eyes. She would obediently stand up, still clothed of course.
'Now close your eyes' I would then pick up a handkerchief to blindfold her.
'Oh good' she would say, 'would the boys play blind man's buff with me?'
'Now be quiet, this is for your own good. Stand with your legs apart'. She would comply.
'Hold your arms out' She would comply.
'Now I will show you what the boys would do to you. First they would take you to a place deep in a wood, where you could not be heard.'
'You mean if I giggled?' 'No, not exactly. Then they would start to do this...'
And I would unbutton the top button of her blouse (she always dressed rather well)
'Oh, what thoughtful boys, is that in case I became too hot?'
Then I would unbutton the rest of her blouse, slowly and my hand just brushing very gently, almost imperceptibly against her breasts. She had small but very beautiful breasts. Best of all, I knew that her breasts were extremely sensitive and that any contact with them at all would give her intense pleasure.
I would slip off her blouse and look at her, blindfolded and trusting, her arms spread out and wearing a lovely lacy bra. If she had been in the mood for punishment her lingerie was always black and lacy. I loved to look at her wearing it. She loved me to see it and to enjoy it.
I would slip off her skirt to reveal her black suspender belt and crutchless knickers which she wore to give me access to.. but that will come later. She knew what was coming next and I could hear her breathing getting shorter.
'The boys will touch you' I said. 'Oh? she would say, I could hear the shortness of breath. 'Where?'
She was blindfolded and had no idea where the touch would come. When it came it would be soft, light as a feather and sometimes just a breath. As the anticipation built I held back and then would lightly touch her, perhaps on the elbow. A shudder would go through her. I am sure she had a clitoris in her elbow and possibly twenty other places as well.
The next touch might be on the upper arm. The shoulder. The inside of her arm. And then.... slowly touching her breast. I could hear the breathing becoming shorter.
'Is this what the boys would do? she asked innocently. I would cup her breast in my hand and squeeze it lovingly, then firmly and tightly.
'Oh, I hope the boys do this, it's very nice.'
I would recoil in horror. 'Celia! I am shocked! Shocked!' This is of course was a quote from a favourite film - special prize if anyone can identify it.
'Letting boys strip you and touch you intimately is slutty behaviour and must be corrected. You deserve to have the clips used on you.'
'No, not the clips! She would cry plaintively. The clips were bulldog clips from the office and Celia would already have left them on a table handy as required. She had discovered that for her, pain and pleasure were a continuum with a middle ground where pain and pleasure co-existed side by side. The more she indulged in painful pleasure the more her pain threshold increased. She had developed a taste in bulldog clips applied to the nipples. We had a safe word in case of problems, but it was only ever used once. As computer people we had to test the system before launch!
I would sit her on the bed and make her nipples ready for the delicious torture. I would kiss her, still blindfolded and fondle her breasts lovingly, and kiss her breasts all over and nibble them with my teeth. Applying more pressure I would feel her start to enjoy the pain. I would make her nipples wet to increase the sensitivity.
'I know I must be punished' she would say. This was the trigger for the next course. I would open the black cruel bulldog clips and gently clip them onto her nipples but stopping them closing, which might really hurt her. As long as she said 'yes, yes' I would increase the pressure but if it became too much she would say 'ouch' and I would stop.
'But the boys won't stop there. Take your knickers off.'
She would take off the blindfold and remove her black and extremely naughty knickers while I watched attentively.
'Lie down on the bed, face down'.
Celia would lie in front of me dressed only in black suspenders and stockings. The latter were usually of the seamed variety, which did wonders for her long graceful legs. Her bottom would be rosy from the previous spanking but usually she liked a little more.
'Now are you obedient?' I would say. Usually she would say 'my cunt is getting out of hand again'. 'Oh is it? So more discipline is required then?' and I would pick up the cane. A few swipes would establish a more compliant attitude and she would say 'I'm good now, I'm very good.' At this point I had to be very careful. Celia had developed a way of orgasming when she was being caned but I did not want her to orgasm without me being with her.
'Is your cunt still naughty?'
'No, it is very good and quite compliant now'
'Well we can't leave it there, Celia, can we? You have been very naughty and need to be punished further.'
'Yes I know, I will accept it all.'
This was the trigger for her to take me on top and enter from behind. She loved the feel of me thrusting deep inside and pushing against the rosy hue of her blushing bottom. In this position I could also hold her breasts as we moved together.. and faster ... and faster until .....
Lights went on, lights went off, the world was in the bed and the bed suffered a bedquake of 9 on the Richter scale.
All too soon we were back in South Wales and in each others arms cuddling.
'Is that what happens to naughty girls?' she would whisper.
'Er yep! That's about it.'
'And what would happen if I were VERY naughty?'
'I don't know but I'm sure we would think of something.' And kissing innocently we would fall asleep. Until the next time.