Saturday, 7 August 2010

A Tale of Two Sisters - the story prepared by Alex Birch

Story from Janus 53.

(This is a rather nice story by Christopher James, published in 'Janus' over 20 years ago about a young man's reminiscences of holidays in the north east of England back in the 1930s. The original had a lot of Tyneside dialect pronunciation in it, which I have rather edited as I suspect many non British readers might struggle to make sense of it. But it's still a nice story: - Alex's note)

A Tale of Two Sisters
by Christopher James

It all started for me half a century ago. This is a tale of two girls; Nina, aged 18 and Rose, 16. They were my cousins. Nina, who worked in an office, was quite attractive but not a beauty, and rather broad around the hips. Rose, on the other hand, was a very pretty girl, possessing lovely chestnut hair with auburn tints, and a good well-rounded figure.

As a young man back in the thirties, I used to spend two weeks summer holiday with my widowed aunt and the two daughters, in a north-east seaside town. I became moderately intimate with Nina and we indulged in some petting, but it was frustrating for me because, despite some passionate sessions, she always kept her head and her modesty, and would never permit so much as a touch below the waist. She was certainly no prude, but in those days a girl could be 'ruined' by an unwed pregnancy without an urgent marriage – and such a contingency formed no part of my future plans.

Rose attended a girls' high school. She was on holiday and thus naturally, was more of a day-time companion for me. My Aunt Ada was soft with her girls and Rose, especially, was badly spoiled. She was volatile and ebullient, contrasting with her slightly staid sister; she insisted on having her own way, was saucy and rude to her mother, short-tempered, and apt to indulge in petulant tantrums. My aunt had given up trying to cope with her. I had dark thoughts of doing the job for her – given the opportunity!

One particular fortnight proved to be an unforgettable one. On the second night of my holiday it was fairly late and Rose had been told several times by her mother, who did not approve of late nights, to go to bed. As usual, defeated, Aunt Ada retired leaving Rose to stay up and, mainly, annoy me. I was trying to read and Rose, in a mischievous mood, was deliberately provoking me. She kept pushing my book and giggling at me. Several times I got up and gave her a playful slap on the seat of her skirt and eventually I grabbed her, sat down, and pulled her across my lap. I expected a struggle but, to my surprise, she offered no resistance and lay, quite submissive, as I pushed the skirt of her dress up over her hips.

I had had girls sit on my lap before but I had never had one face-down in this position – and very enjoyable it was. I sat, gloating over the adolescent chubbiness of her bottom, which was tightly covered by her navy-blue school knickers.

I doubt whether I had ever heard the term 'masochist' at that time. I certainly knew nothing about it and her passivity surprised and excited me. I was on the point of giving her a smack when my aunt called from her bedroom, "Rose, will you get to bed – now!" She may have heard our little scuffling. In any case, it was probably as well that she called out, for obviously spanking is a noisy business – something that, in my naivety, I hadn't considered.

Rose was on her feet in a trice. I had a sudden idea. She had been decidedly docile over my lap – and well, you never know your luck. Before she reached the door, I whispered; "If you want that spanking you know you deserve, then come for a walk with me in the morning."

She gave me a startled glance and was out of the room without a word.

After breakfast the next day, and Nina's departure for work, I remarked casually, "How about a stroll along the cliff, Rose? It isn't warm enough to lie on the beach." The unsuspecting Aunty Ada beamed and said it would be good exercise while I noticed little dots of colour appear in Rose's cheeks. After some hesitation, she said "All right, Chris." My heart leapt.

I haven't visited that part of the country now for fifty years and for all I know it may be built on, but in those days the area was unspoiled country and the cliff path was a pleasant lonely walk. We seemed to have it to ourselves. To my delight there was not another soul in sight when we reached the place I had in mind, a large, almost flat, smooth stone probably left over from the dry-walling which is typical of the area. The open air is not to be recommended for purposes of chastisement but this isolated spot seemed ideal for my unseemly purposes. We had it to ourselves, although there would certainly be more people about during the afternoon. It was open country and there was an unobstructed view in every direction. If the sound carried there was no one to hear.

"Right, my girl, how about just here!"

"What for, Christopher?" she asked, innocently.

"You know what for. That spanking you got out of last night."

"Eee, I don't know. Man, that's silly. Spankin' is a punishment."

"Yes it is – and you deserve it the way you talk to your mother. You are disobedient and rude."

Her round, pretty face was very pink as she gazed at me with limpid blue eyes. "Am I naughty, Chris? Do I really deserve it?"

"Yes you are naughty and this is way overdue. Come here!"

The imperative tone has its uses. Slowly and with apparent reluctance, the lovely 16 year old came to me. I grabbed her arm and she allowed herself to be gently pulled down across my thighs, lying with her head right down and her legs trailing to the grass. As on the previous night she was docile and passive, and allowed me to ease the weight of her warm body in order to push the skirts of her under-slip and her dress up over her hips.

In those days, girls dressed like girls and wore skirts. Again I was presented with the alluring sight of her young buttocks covered by those navy knicks; the broad rounded thighs and shapely sun-tanned calves. Oh how I was sorely tempted to pull her knickers down but I dared not. I didn't think she would tell her mother if I pulled them down – but suppose she did? There would be a terrible scandal and I would never be invited back to the house again. And of course I was too diffident to ask Rose if I could.

I gave her a slap, not too hard; she did not move. Emboldened, I gave her another, fairly hard – then another, still harder, and still she made no move. I said, "You're a very naughty girl aren't you, Rose?"

She whispered, "Yes, I suppose I am Chris – please make sure no one's coming?"

"Not a soul in sight. Now, keep still."

I administered another fifteen heavy cracking smacks upon various parts of her rump, until she was squirming and wincing. Never, as long as I live, will I forget the pure libidinous joy of that first time I ever spanked a girl.

I had been very fortunate. Lucky that by pure chance I had discovered Rose's penchant for getting her bottom smacked; lucky that we had this quiet spot with no-one else walking along the path. To me, at the time her response was puzzling. Undoubtedly she got a sexual thrill from having her bum walloped, but at that age she didn't understand that any more than I did. To me, too, spanking was supposed to be punishment. I'd previously had no idea that girls enjoyed it. But both Rose and I had clearly got sexual satisfaction from the experience. But she had to rationalise it. It had to be punishment for misbehaviour; and she was never deliberately naughty in order to get a spanking, that would have been too obvious. It was just fortunate for me that she was a naturally recalcitrant girl.

I couldn't wait for another suitable occasion. But I didn't have to wait too long. Only two days later Aunty Ada was annoyed at breakfast because Rose was doodling on the table-cloth with a pencil. When she tried to take the pencil away Rose, in a fit of petulance, threw it across the room.

"You can pick that up!" snapped her mother.

"No!" replied Rose

"Don't you say no to me, my lass!"


"You saucy little baggage! Now pick it up!"

"No, I'll not!"

To my amazement that was the end of the matter. Rose remained where she was, the pencil remained where it lay. In hindsight, I believe Rose was putting on a show for me, but in any event that was all the excuse I needed. When after breakfast I told Rose she ought to take another walk along the cliffs with me, she licked her lips and put her tongue out at me.

"Cheeky brat!" I said.

Her mother was in the kitchen and Nina had left the house. Rather pink in the face, Rose grinned and said slyly, "So I'm going to catch it again, am I?"

"Yes you are. The trouble with you is you're spoiled."

Surprisingly, she nodded. "Me Mam's too soft. Me Dad wouldn't've spoiled us. He was strict. He used to use the tawse." I was ignorant in those days. I knew all about the cane but I had never heard of a tawse.

"It's a leather strap split in two. So it's got two thongs. Gosh, it hurts like hell! Me Mam's still got it."

"So why doesn't she use it on you?"

"Eee, she's too easy. She never touches us. Nor Nina when she was younger. I've been strapped at school though, but not much. It's beastly!"

We took our little walk as far as the flat stone but we had to wait because there was another couple behind us. Once they were out of sight the countryside was quiet. The only signs of life were the wheeling, swooping sea-birds, a few cattle behind the dry-stone wall, and the distant short, urgent blasts from a destroyer that was leaving the River Tyne.

She came across my lap without a murmur and I pushed up her dress. She was still wearing the same type of navy school knickers. This time my hand hovered uncertainly – oh but those knickers were tantalising – and this time the temptation was totally irresistible. Rebalancing the weight of her soft, shapely body, I started to ease her knickers down gently, taking my time, giving her every chance to protest, but she merely turned her head, smiled, raised her hips to assist the descent of her underwear, and whispered "Ooooooooo – cheeky!"

I was feeling bold, bad and a little scared. Even if her mother found out there could be no question of her going to the police. But my imagination was overworked. Just supposing...This could certainly be called sexual assault and at that time youths could be sentenced to a birching, and that was a fearful thought.

The birch was a dreaded implement. To many people these days it sounds barbarous. Yet I sometimes wonder whether it was such a bad thing. It was a scandal in any family; it was utterly degrading, humiliating, and extremely painful. I doubt whether many offenders would go back for a second dose.

Even while the dire possibility of being flogged was running through my feverish mind, my pretty cousin was naked from the waist to the knickers around her thighs, and I was caressing her smooth white rear; very yielding but firm-fleshed. And obviously she was not finding the situation unduly embarrassing or shameful. That was the first time I had seen a girl's nether parts bare and I was trembling with licentious delight. Oh Hell!! Another couple were appearing in the distance. Hastily I bundled Rose off my knees. "There's someone coming!"

"Bloody hell!" she muttered. Pulling her skirt down to cover her knickers she squatted on the grass.

"You needn't swear," I admonished her.

"That word's nothing," she giggled.

"It is coming from a young girl. It's very naughty and you will be getting a few extra spanks for that."

We had to wait until the couple had passed us and were out of sight. Spanking a girl in the open is decidedly risky but we had nowhere else to go. There was no-one else to be seen and Rose again came across my lap quite willingly. Indeed, I was amazed at her docility; at the time I certainly was an ignoramus. She wriggled, rubbing her thighs together as I fondled her uncovered hips, the plump, gorgeously enticing, rounded, satin-skinned cheeks and the inviting cleft. I was experiencing a strong urge to put my fingers into that dark little chasm, but I decided 'better not.'

Suddenly she giggled and turned her blushing face round. "Eee, man, you're cheeky," she said, "I can feel something sticking in me."

"What did you expect?"

It was embarrassing but there was nothing to be done about it, and Rose was not naive. Her thighs were writhing and I could feel moisture on my trousers. She was randy as hell! I said , "I'm going to do it really hard, this time."

"Oh I dunno about that, Chris. You really think I deserve it?"

"You damn well deserve it after that display this morning. You're bad tempered, disobedient and defiant. And you swear!"

After another good look round, I brought my open palm down good and hard upon the soft, fleshy side of her buttock. She winced. I slapped hard, she was wincing and crying out. I smacked with regular blows upon the sides and middle of her writhing nates. She was moaning and beginning to weep loudly.

SMACK! – Oooooh – SMACK! – Aaaagh – SMACK! I must have given her twenty to thirty really hard slaps. It was certainly a noisy affair but only a few cows were within earshot. Even at that stage it was a very strange business to my mind; I had given her a really good hiding.

When I stopped I twisted her over so that she was sitting on my thighs. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed her tears away. She wriggled a little, her skirt still rucked up to the top of her thighs, then sat, totally unconcerned by her immodesty, for her knickers were still round her knees.

"I'm goin' to tell Mam," she whispered reproachfully," You bloody 'urt me!"

"And I suppose you are going to tell her about the way you're sitting on my lap showing me everything you've got?" Well, in for a penny in for a pound! I simply could not resist lightly touching the softness within the little pubescent triangle of brown hair. It was wet and tempting – but I refrained from any actual sexual interference. I was pretty certain she would not dare say anything about this to my aunt.

Nor did she – but I had a shock when I talked to Nina on the following Sunday afternoon.

Nina had started her summer holiday, my aunt had gone to Newcastle, and Rose was in her bedroom, leaving me and Nina alone. We were lying on the hearthrug, indulging in a wet, juicy, open-mouthed kiss. I began to pat her bottom. "Nooo" she whispered. Putting her hand up behind her she grasped my hand and pulled it up around her waist.

"I only want to touch," I protested.

"No, Chris, I'm tekkin no chances after what I've heard about you," she said with a sly grin. Then she gave me the shock of my life. "And who said you could spank our Rosie on her bare bum?"

For a moment I was taken aback then I muttered guiltily, "She told you about that?"

"Course she did. We're sisters. We tell each other everything, me and Rosie."

"Oh but she let me do it."

"Mmmmm. Tekkin 'er drawers down and walloping 'er bare bottom?"

"She agreed she deserved it."

"Don't worry, Chris, me Mam won't find out."

"I reckon she wanted it. Come on, give us another kiss." We kissed, bruisingly, then drew apart as Rose suddenly walked into the room.

She grinned mischievously. "Been givin' our Nina a bit of a poke, have you, Chris?"

For a few seconds there was dead silence. That might not seem all that outrageous these days but 50 years ago decent, well brought-up young girls would scarcely have heard that expression, let alone use it. I was genuinely shocked and horrified. Then Nina gasped; "Rosie! How dare you!"

"Dirty minded little brat!" I snapped.

"Bet you'd like to all the same," Rose replied defiantly.

"Our Mam would go mad if she knew," Nina said.

"Yaaah she'd only tell us off!"

"You deserve to get your bottom smacked again for that," I remarked.

"Yes," Nina joined in, "how about givin' 'er a damn good hiding while our Mam's out?"

"Nina you rotten beast!"

"You don't seem to mind it too much," I said. "Anyway I think you're begging for it. That was disgusting."

"Do I really deserve another walloping, Chris?" She turned to me, her eyes lowered and her cheeks a pretty shade of pink. As our eyes met the pink suddenly blazed crimson.

"Yes, you do," I replied. This was beyond my wildest dreams – even her sister wanted to see me spank her. "Look at the way you were carrying on this morning! Saucy and downright insolent. How your mother stands it, I don't know."

"Yes, you're right," Nina joined in. "Cheekin' Mam – and you swore at her!"

"I did not!"

"Oh yes you did. You told Mam to bloody well shut up. That's very nice coming from a 16 year old girl!"

"And now she's using obscene language," I said, "I think she should have another spanking, Nina."

"So do I. She can be a little bitch at times –"

"Don't call me a bitch!" Rose replied hotly.

"All right, little devil then. Anyway you need a good hidin'. Give her a good spankin', Chris."

Waiting no longer, I commanded Rose to go to her room. The feeling of power was marvellous. "And you better be waiting with your knickers down!" I added.

Her blue-grey eyes were very round, her tongue licked her lips and a crimson tide once more crept into her pretty cheeks. "Yes, Chris," she murmured meekly. "Don't be too hard on me. I'm sorry I'm a bad girl. And I shouldn't have talked about poking Nina."

"What are you wearing underneath today?" Nina suddenly asked her sister.


"Eee that'll be nice for you, Chris," Nina tittered. "Do you know how cami-knickers work?"

I had no idea how cami-knickers 'worked'. I followed Rose into her bedroom. Nina came in, also, to watch. We were going to have an audience and the thought got me very excited. This time, I decided, we'd have a change of position. "Lie on your bed, Rose. And pull your dress up!"

She looked at me uneasily; she was obedient but apprehensive. She lay prone, at full length on her bed, with her legs slightly parted. I realised immediately the significance of cami-knickers, they are a very sexy garment. Nina was watching with evident, lascivious eagerness. She was so wanton – she didn't seem to care what I did to her sister. Yet I mustn't touch her! I unfastened the buttons with quivering, fumbling fingers, my heart beating wildly. Relieved that I had been able to cope with them, I pushed the intimate garment well up over Rose's hips.

Staring down at seductive curves of her now familiar, fine, fleshy buttocks I was nearly drooling. I had to swallow repeatedly. There was no indication of redness from the previous spanking. I looked up at Nina. This was really a new experience, having her present. Her dark brown eyes were round and shining and as she gazed at her sister's glorious white derriere, the pink tip of her tongue showed between her lips.

I thrashed Rose even more severely than before. I smacked, hard and systematically, upon every portion of that beautiful posterior. She jerked and wriggled, wincing, gasping and moaning, but she remained stoically in position. I had a hard, betraying bulge in my trousers but I could only ignore that!

I beat her forcibly and determinedly, producing large inflamed areas upon the sides of her writhing behind, upon the middle, upon the upper parts near the waist, upon the lower parts where it curved outwards from the thighs. She was crying , but I continued relentlessly upon the upper parts of her thighs. SMACK! "Ooooohhhh no, Chris, n-no more… oh, owww, stop… please!" She howled at every slap, crying like a baby in between. She was squirming and rolling until she rolled on her side.

I straightened myself, breathing hard through my open mouth. My hand was stinging like fire. Almost the entire area of that delicious bare bottom, and the tops of the thighs, were stained a fiery red. I had to wipe my slavering mouth with my sleeve.

When I looked at Nina I saw that she was gazing, her face very pale except for one glowing red spot in the middle of each cheek. Rose was lying, sobbing, squeezing her burning bottom with her fingers.

"Eee, man," said Nina, "that was some spankin'!" Her hand was overtly pressing her skirt into her groin. I was wishing I could relieve my own needs.............

"Yes," I said to Nina, "and I can see how much you enjoyed watching it. How about allowing me to smack your very delightful arse?"

She giggled. "You don't know how delightful my arse is – nor you're not going to! I'm not like Rosie – she loves it! I'll go and get some cold cream for her bum! God that looks sore!" As she gently creamed her sister's crimson, burning skin, Rose was still weeping. Poor Rosie! Yet she had been literally asking for it.

What a pair they were. It was beyond my youthful comprehension at the time, but Rose really did get some strange aberrant sexual thrill from having her backside walloped. And Nina was just as salacious as her sister despite her own reluctance to be touched. She loved to be a voyeur at her sister's punishments but she simply would not trust herself in intimate situations.

Durign my second week there, Rose had another furious breakfast row with her mother which resulted in an egg being knocked to the floor after an altercation which also involved Nina and again her mother refrained from any physical response, but maybe my Aunt Ada was more in tune than we thought. "Cheeky young besom!" she said angrily, "Somebody should give you a good smacked bottom!" It sounded like an open invitation and Nina and I exchanged glances across the table. Unexpectedly Rose suddenly had an attack of contrition. "Sorry I was so rude, Mom," she muttered. "I'll clean up the mess!"

She didn't believe that was going to save her bottom, surely!

Having done the washing up, my aunt, probably glad to get out of the house for some peace and quiet, said she was going shopping and why didn't the three of us go to the beach? But this was not part of anyone's plans for the immediate future.

"I suppose I'm getting another spankin'?" Rose licked her lips, almost smiling.

"You can count on it," I answered. "Using that language to your mother! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"I am, Chris, I'm sorry. It just comes out."

"You're still going to get a damn good hiding!" I said, and suddenly I was becoming ambitious. "Rose, where is that tawse you mentioned!"

"Noooo!" For the first time there was fear in her voice.

"Oh yes," said Nina with wide eyed enthusiasm, "that's what she'd ve got from our Dad. It's in Mam's wardrobe." With obvious growing excitement, she said, "Bet you've never seen a tawse, Chris. I'll go and fetch it."

"Noooo," Rose cried, her eyes wide. "He's not touching me with that!"

"You'll get what just what you deserve," I said. "Now get upstairs!"

It was up to Rose. I could do nothing against her will but, to my joy and thundering excitement, she didn't argue, just sniffled and walked slowly upstairs. I followed her into her bedroom, and Nina entered, carrying an implement I had never seen before.

"This is the tawse, Chris." She proffered it and I grasped it curiously.

It was brown leather, pretty thick; although not limp like a belt, and heavier than one, its two thongs bent quite pliantly between my hands. This, I thought, was a splendid instrument. But – was I going to be permitted to use it? I thought it was likely that the culprit might not be entirely averse to another spanking, but with this formidable piece of leatherware? I noticed that Rose was eyeing it, unsmiling but with a strange expression, almost of fascination; she flinched when I brought it hissing down with a crack on her bed. I could try anyway – who could tell, with a strange ambivalent creature like Rose?

"How long do you think your Mam will be, Nina?"

"Oh, a good hour. She's pretty slow, shopping. Chris, are you going to give our Rosie a good tawsing?"

"Nooo," said Rose again, pleadingly. "Spank me, Chris. Oh God, I don't want the tawse. I've not had it since poor Dad died. It's awful!!"

"It's just what you're going to get, my girl!" I said, boldly.

Rose tried a desperate ploy. "If I'm going to get it so should our Nina. She hit me at breakfast, twice."

Nina paled. "Not on your life!" she said hurriedly. "I'm not being beaten!"

"But you think Rose deserves it?"

"Aye I do. She chucked that egg on the floor!"

"But you did hit her twice. Come on, Nina, one stroke of the tawse for each blow. It's only fair."

I perceived that Nina was in a quandary. She undoubtedly wanted to see her sister thrashed, but she clearly feared for her own bottom. After an agonising pause she finally said "All right, but only two strokes."

How did this thing compare to a cane? I made a wild guess. "Six strokes for you, Rose." My heart was pounding as I waited for a reply. If she refused at least she would take a spanking. Nina suddenly tittered, she was staring at the tumescence thrusting through my trousers. I felt hot all over with appalling embarrassment. "I can't help it," I mumbled. There was nothing I could do about it.

"Ooooooo you are a bad lad, Chris!"

"Well how do you expect me to react," I demanded, "thinking about thrashing the bare bottoms of two pretty girls?"

"Oh nooo. I never said bare bottom. I wouldn't dare risk it," she gasped. "Just look at the state of you and before any girl is naked!"

"Come on, Nina," I said. "Surely you're not a coward! Your little sister, two years younger, is going to take six on her bare bottom and you won't even take two?"

Still she hesitated. The difference between these two was becoming increasingly apparent. I still could not understand it, but although she was clearly scared, Rose got a real thrill out of being whacked on her bare bottom, whereas to Nina it was merely a painful punishment and horribly embarrassing. Yet her prurient interest in her sister's chastisements, and her encouragement to me to punish Rose, showed that she too was affected by the same strange tastes.

"Come on, Nina," said Rose encouragingly, "just keep your thighs together. If you won't do it, I won't!"

"Oh, all right," she grudgingly conceded. "I'll get my knicks down – but only two strokes, Chris. And no touching me with that – thing of yours!"

Red-faced, I promised. "We'll get yours over first, Rose. Take your knickers down – or are you wearing cami-knickers?"

"Cami-knickers. Er… undo me," She turned her back. God, she intended to get undressed! This was getting better and better. I unbuttoned her dress and she shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor. Her waist-slip followed. She wore no stockings and her legs were tanned – as that so provocative rump was going to be. To my joy, she unlooped her cami-knickers and stepped out of everything. She stood, nude except for her bra. She was adorable. I admired her pubic triangle and suddenly felt that I was in the naughtiest and most sexually arousing situation I had ever known. I realised that my entire body was trembling.

"Now," I ordered. "Bend over. Right over!"

Obediently, she swung right over and stood with her fingertips just touching her toes, legs a little way apart. I couldn't understand her. It was a very humble and abasing posture and grossly indecent in front of a boy who already had a painfully stiff erection. I could see everything she'd got. She was completely wilful, apparently getting a kick out of lewdly exposing herself in front of me and her sister.

Only six strokes but that was doubled with two thongs. I knew I certainly would not have wanted to take her punishment. I intended it to hurt. I brought that vicious tawse fairly sizzling down...

Rose gasped loudly as the leather swished and cracked squarely across her taut, resilient bottom cheeks.

Again the wicked instrument fell with an explosive report, the two thongs flattening themselves, biting into girlish buttocks. The girl winced loudly and her body jerked.

WHAP! "Owwwww" It was a throaty quavering cry and Rose jerked upright. "Oh God, Chris, please no more!"

"You're getting three more. You're bad tempered, foul mouthed and disobedient! You'd better lie across the bed!"

Rather to my surprise, because she could have refused, she obeyed and lay with her behind curved over the edge of the bed. It was glowing deep red and she was weeping quietly, with short, quick, indrawn breaths.

Again I raised the tawse, held it high and brought it swishing down with all my weight behind it. She uttered an agonised yell and her whole body twisted.

WHAP! "Oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhhh!" She was now crying piteously and I was breathing hard.

She shrieked at the final blow, squirming onto her side then went back onto her tummy and her hands went behind her, squeezing the reddened skin, which was swelling into broad weals. After a moment she stood up, slowly and stiffly, completely unconcerned about her glaringly exposed private parts. Her mouth was wide open, her face bore an expression of anguish. Tears were trickling over her cheeks and her hands were still clasped to her bottom. I suspected that she had derived little if any pleasure from that thrashing.

Not so her older sister. Nina was standing with a glazed expression, her breathing fast and light, her cheeks pink with pleasure at the sight of her sister's whipped bottom. I broke the spell.

"Right, Nina. Your turn. Two whacks."

Nina came out of her trance, her face suddenly pale. She looked very scared. "I-I don't want to... I-I've changed my mind."

"Oh Nina," Rose wailed. "You must. You promised. Look what I suffered."

Nina bit her lip. "All right. I suppose I have to. But I'm not undressing like Rosie. I'll just take my knicks down."

She pulled her underpants down and let them drop, pulled up her skirts and without being told, bent over and gripped the edge of the bed. I gazed , enraptured , at that sublime posterior, the deep shadowed cleft large and magnificently rounded – sheer poetry. God, how I wished I could caress her bottom cheeks; I suspected they were extremely erotogenic. But I had given my word.

She was brave however. She lay perfectly still whilst I brought the thick strap down twice with all the weight of my shoulders behind it. I loved its fierce swing, which was entirely devoid of consideration for the soft sensitivity and succulent tenderness of teenaged female flesh, and even more ardently I adored the tawse's deafening sonic impact with the smarting buttock mounds. Nina jerked and groaned at each but that was all. Her eyes were filled with tears as she straightened herself and her hands were under her skirt, squeezing and pressing. She seemed like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"Oooo, Chris," she said through her tears, "I never thought I'd agree to this, when we met you off the train in Newcastle'"

And neither did I. The climax to a special and wonderful holiday!!

This story was scanned and prepared by Alex Birch.

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