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“Frank” and I : Part 1 Chapter 4 – “Frank” and the secret of the spanking


– Christmas festivities.
– The wish to whip.
– Maud’s initiation.
– The rod and the result.
– A blushing milksop.
– The erotic books.
– How curiosity was punished.
– A sermon and a spanking.
– How to prepare the victim.
– “Frank’s” bottom well slapped.
– An exquisite sensation.
– The exposure of the buttocks.
– “Frank” and the secret of the spanking.

Next morning, “Frank” got down to breakfast before me, and when I entered the room she welcomed me with a smiling face; looking, in spite of her boy’s dress, so fresh, rosy, and pretty, that I felt inclined to take her up in my arms and kiss her red lips.

“How is it, this morning?” I asked, in a joking way.

This question made her blush a little, but she answered readily that “it” was much better, she could sit down comfortably; but that the marks were still very plain.

After breakfast when I set her the tasks for the day, I changed the whole of her studies, making them less abstruse, and more suitable to a girl. She seemed to be glad of the change and went off cheerfully with her books to the library.

So, everything went on as usual; time passed, and Christmas week arrived when, according to my custom as head of the family, I had a large party of relatives of both sexes to stay with me; every bedroom, in the old house being filled.

“Frank,”-whom I introduced as a young friend come to live with me for a time, -soon became a favourite with the ladies, who all said, “he was such a pretty boy”; and her quiet, well-bred manner made her popular with the gentlemen.

Not one of my guests ever had the slightest suspicion that my young friend was a girl.

That year, it happened to be what is commonly called an “old-fashioned Christmas,” that is, there was plenty of frost and snow; the children of the village sang carols, and the waifs played at midnight in a most dismal way.

The great hall, with its trophies of arms and the chase, was decorated with holly and mistletoe, under which the usual kissing took place.

I know I kissed several pretty cousins. There was a Yule-log burning on the queer old hearth, with its massive carved brass dogs; we had a wassail bowl; we had the inevitable turkey, and plum pudding; and we all, I think, eat more than was good for us; and in short, we went through all the usual rather dreary festivities which are thought proper at that season of the year.

The week passed over pleasantly, but I was glad when all was over, and my relatives had gone away.

I had got so accustomed to living by myself in my old house, that the presence of a number of people put me out of my way; and, as I was not a family man, I had found the constant talk about domestic matters, carried on by my female relatives, most decidedly tiresome.

So, with a feeling of relief I returned to my usual habits, amusing myself by day hunting or shooting, and on the nights when I was at home, I always had “Frank” to amuse me with her lively chatter, and quaint remarks on things in general.

She was sometimes idle, and occasionally a little wilful, but she never committed an offence of sufficient gravity to necessitate a whipping; and though I often felt very much inclined to take a look at her bottom, I had determined never to make her let down her trousers unless she really deserved punishment.

I frequently went up to town for a day or two, on business, or pleasure, and on those occasions I stayed with Maud, who always appeared glad to see me; and, as I had now become a “lover of the rod,” it was not long before I introduced it to the notice of my young lady.

On one of my visits, I took with me a nice little birch, prettily tied up with bows of blue ribbon, which I hid under the pillow when we were going to bed at night.

Maud had not noticed anything, and she was soon locked in my arms in a close embrace. Then we had a little talk, followed by another embrace, after which we both fell asleep lying on our sides, spoon fashion, Maud’s warm, soft-skinned bottom being closely pressed against my belly, while my tool lay between her thighs. When I woke next morning, it was broad daylight, and I had a splendid erection.

Maud was still asleep, but I soon roused her, and when she was fairly awake, I told her how I had lately taken a great fancy for inflicting corporal punishment; then, producing the rod from under the pillow, I asked her to let me give her a slight birching.

She sat up in bed and stared at me with her big, brown eyes, in utter astonishment for a moment; then she began to laugh; saying that she had never heard of such a thing; that she could not understand why I should take pleasure in giving her pain.

I said that I would not hurt her much, only just make her tingle a little; and as she was a good-natured little woman, she soon consented to let me birch her.

She laid herself down at full length, and I pulled down the bedclothes, and rolled her night-dress up to her shoulders so that her pretty, plump, white body was entirely naked.

Then I birched her gently till a pink tinge showed on her skin, and she rolled over on to her back saying that she had had enough, and that her bottom was smarting.

I was very much excited, and my prick was rampant, so I put my arms round her, as she lay with outstretched legs, and gave her the lustiest poke I had ever given her, making her bound under me, and wriggle her bottom in rare style; and when all was over, and she had recovered her breath, she remarked with a laugh, that I had never done it to her with such vigour before, and she added, she never would have believed that I could have got so excited by merely birching her bottom.

I laughed, gave her a kiss, and told her that it was a well-known fact that the sexual powers of men are always increased by whipping females, or by seeing them whipped.

After that, whenever I spent a night with her, I always gave her a touch of the rod, so that in time she grew accustomed to it, and was able to take a tolerably smart birching.

And I got fonder of it than ever as I found it always increased the pleasure of the poke, which, as a matter of course, followed the application of the rod.

But though I enjoyed using the birch in fun, I was always wishing for a chance to use it in reality.
All this, however, is by the way.

One night, after dinner, we were as usual, sitting by the fire; I was smoking and “Frank” was reading; when, just to hear what she would say, I said: “‘Frank,’ I think I must send you to school.It will do you good to mix with other boys; and you will learn more.”

A look of fright came to her face, and the colour rushed up to her cheeks.

“Oh,” she said earnestly, “don’t send me to school. I don’t want to mix with other boys. I am very happy here with you; and I am sure I am learning quite enough.”

“You ought to be out every day playing football with lads of your own age.”
“Oh, it is such a rough game. I should not like to play it.”

I laughed, saying, with affected sarcasm: “I am afraid you are rather a milksop.”

The tears came into her eyes, and she looked so distressed, that I did not chaff her any more; so she soon recovered her equanimity, and then we had a game of chess.

A few days after this, I had the double pleasure of seeing her bottom, and whipping it for an act of gross ‘disobedience.

My library is an extensive one, containing a large collection of standard works on all subjects, and a great number of novels.

I also had at that time, several books of the most erotic description, illustrated with coloured plates. These books were kept separate from the others, locked up in a small bookcase, the key of which was always in my possession.

“Frank” was fond of reading, and she had the run of the whole library, with the exception of the locked-up books.

I knew her to be a perfectly innocent girl, and I meant to keep her so for the present. She had several times asked me why I kept the books locked up, and she also frequently begged me to let her see them; but I had always refused, and I had also warned her not to attempt to open the bookcase.

No doubt her curiosity was aroused by my refusal, and, with the wilfulness of her sex, she had made up her mind to see those particular books, although all the other volumes in the library were open to her.

One morning, I had gone out hunting, fully expecting to be away the whole day, but my horse cast a shoe, and went lame, so I had to lead him home, where I arrived at two o’clock.

After I had changed my things, and had my lunch, I went up to the library, finding that the door was open, and on looking in, I saw my young friend standing in front of the locked bookcase, holding in her hands a bunch of keys, and trying to find one which would open the lock.

I watched her unsuccessful attempts for a moment or two, then I went into the room.

On seeing me, she was utterly taken aback, -for she had thought me miles away, -she dropped the keys on the floor, turned pale, and stood staring at me, apparently quite unable to say a word.

“Aha! you naughty boy. I have caught you nicely!” I exclaimed. “How dare you attempt to open that bookcase, against my express orders?”

I was angry with her, but at the same time I was glad she had given me an excuse for baring her bottom. I did not intend to birch her, as I thought it would be more exciting to take her across my knees and spank her.

She could see from my face that I was angry, and no doubt she guessed that I was going to flog her; but as she was a plucky girl, she did not whine, or beg to be let off; she merely cast a deprecating look at me, and stood silently awaiting her fate-blushing of course.

“I will not birch you this time, but I will spank yon. Take off your coat. Come here,” I said, seating myself on a chair.

She seemed to be rather relieved on hearing that she was not going to be birched, and at once took off her jacket, and came up to me.

Taking hold of her, I laid her across my knees in the orthodox position for receiving a spanking. I then began to prepare her for punishment.

And I may here remark, that to a “lover of the rod,” the preparing of a culprit for punishment is always a most pleasing task, which should be done as slowly as possible. It is a great mistake to lay bare at once the posteriors of the victim.

If the subject to be operated upon happens to be a female, her dress should be first turned well up, then her petticoats one by one, and lastly her chemise; then her drawers should be quietly unfastened and pulled down to her knees.

But to proceed. I unfastened her braces back and front, unbuttoned her trousers, and pulled them down to her ankles; then carefully rolling up her shirt, I tucked the tail under the back part of her waistcoat.

Then I gazed with a strong feeling of sensual pleasure, and a very stiff cock, at her pretty bottom, thighs, and legs, all of which seemed to have grown bigger since I had last seen them.

I was in no hurry to begin the spanking; so I lectured her on her disobedience, while feasting my eyes on her naked charms and I could not resist passing my hand two or three times over her milk-white, satin-like skin, at the same time gently pressing the swelling hemispheres of plump flesh; but I resisted my desire to thrust my hand between her thighs, which she kept tightly pressed together.

It was delicious to touch her cool, soft skin, but it would be still more delightful to watch the lily-like surface changing to a rosy, red under the slaps of my hand.

All this time she had been lying quietly,-though no doubt in dire suspense-in a curved position across my thighs, her hands resting on the floor, and the middle part of her body pressing against my upright tool which felt as if it were going to burst through my trousers.

Placing my left arm over her loins, I held her firmly in position, then, raising my right hand, I brought it down upon the middle of the right cheek of her bottom; a loud “smack,” resounded through the room, and though I had not applied the slap with any great force, the marks of my four fingers and thumb were instantly printed in red on her white, delicate skin, and she flinched, uttering a slight ejaculation of pain.

Again, my hand rose and fell, this time on the left cheek, which also at once became marked with the red imprints of my fingers, and again she shrunk under the slap, a slight moan escaping from her lips.

I went on spanking her, smartly but not severely, striking alternately the right and left cheek of her bottom; my hand each time rebounding from her firm elastic flesh.

Her skin grew redder and redder, and as the smarting pain increased, she burst into tears, and began to wriggle about on my lap, and in her wriggles her naked belly rubbed against and pressed my tool, which was sticking up inside my trousers, as stiff as a bar of iron.

This friction excited in me an intensely lascivious feeling, and I held her tightly pressed down upon my thighs so that I might feel the writhing of her body as much as possible.

The sensation was exquisite! But I was soon obliged to stop spanking her, for had I gone on, the rubbing of her belly against my prick would have made me “spend,” which I did not wish to do. Besides I did not want to punish her severely.

I had given her a couple of dozen smacks, which she had borne very bravely; for though her bottom must have smarted considerably under the slaps; judging from the way she had wriggled and cried, she had never attempted to put her hands behind her, nor had she once screamed.

I let her get off my knees, but as I was not yet tired of looking at her nakedness, I told her to kneel upon a chair, with her back towards me, and her trousers down.

Holding her open trousers with one hand, she shuffled over to a chair, placing herself in the required position, without uttering a word; and again, I admired her shapely young figure, and her rose-red bottom which contrasted so strongly with her milk-white thighs.

After gazing at the charming spectacle for a minute or two, I told her to button up, which she did with her head hanging down, her tearful eyes fixed on the floor, and a very red face-her bottom was redder though.

I told her she might go, and she quickly scuttled out of the room.

I leant back in my chair, feeling very randy, and I would have given anything to have got hold of a woman at that moment.

There were plenty of “Polls” in Winchester, -some of them very nice, -but it was hardly worth while going to the town; for, by the time I got there, all my excitement would have passed off.

So, I fell back on the soothing weed; and lighting a big cigar, I settled myself in an easy-chair for a comfortable smoke; and by the time I had finished the cigar, my desire was no longer keen.

I did not see the girl again until we met at dinner, when she took her seat quite comfortably, apparently none the worse for the spanking.

She was rather quiet and subdued at first, but after she had had some soup, and a bit of fish, and had drunk the glass of wine I gave her, she began to talk.

When the butler had left the room, I put a few leading questions to her, and she told me, shyly, that the spanking I had given her, was not so severe as the spankings she had received from the lady; she also informed me that the three spankings had been inflicted with a thick-soled slipper on three successive days; and her bottom in consequence had become so bruised, that it had turned black and blue, remaining so for some time.

Then, after one or two more questions, she told me that though the spankings had been severe, they were not nearly so painful as the birching I had given her for striking Jane.

She clasped her hands and seemed to shudder at the recollection of that flogging.

I tried to get her to tell me what had caused the lady to spank her so severely; but she would not give me any information, and she looked so distressed when I pressed her, that I ceased questioning her on the subject.

I then told her to get the novel we were both interested in at that time, and read aloud to me, a thing she often did, for I liked listening to her, as she had a musical voice, and she read well, with good intonation, and proper emphasis.

She got the book, curled herself up in an arm-chair opposite me, and in a short time we were both deeply interested in the story, which happened to be the “Moonstone,” by Wilkie Collins.

She read to me for an hour, and then I sent her to bed.