Oh, no, not one of those long stories about friendship and relationships and very little spanking. Oh, yes, here it comes. This is one of the original stories about Miranda and her friend Felicia. Miranda is the girl who was waiting, earlier in my blog. The story is longer than this and maybe I will post the rest later.
I am Miranda. When all this began I was far younger than I am now. Of course, such things, just don't begin but it was at this time they became real. It happened in the autumn and I had just started school again. I was, then, still the tiny unassuming Miranda. I was not skinny but slim and light in my frame. I think I was quite pretty in some sense but I was not beautiful and, definitely, not sexy. To be sexy at my school you had to have big breasts, dress in revealing clothes and wear heavy makeup. I didn't have big breasts and my clothes were quite conservative. I preferred skirts and dresses and occasionally trousers. I guess I was quite boring.
Everything interesting about me happened on the inside. My imagination was far more colourful than my appearance. I don't think my classmates realised how wild and strange my inner world was. To them I was just tiny Miranda. I wasn't bullied or anything and I don't think I was ugly but I was just ordinary.
Everything changed when I started school that autumn. Felicia came to our school. She was weird. At least that was what everyone said. She dressed strangely and behaved strangely. Felicia had red hair. That in itself made her strange to many. She dressed in green, dark green, and was far more flamboyant than me. She didn't behave like the sexy girls in school and her breasts wasn't enormous so she was weird.
I thought she looked like a queen, a fairy queen. She was half a head taller than me but, then again, most people were taller than me. I was immediately drawn to her and her way of moving and her way of seeming like she didn't care about the others. She was my heroine. She entered into my fantasies as a fairy queen with magic powers and as a being walking through a world where she didn't belong. She came from some faraway place where things were different. I imagined myself kneeling in front of her when she was sitting on her throne as her captive and putting my life in her hands and I felt a strange thrill when I imagined her having the power of controlling me.
The good thing about Felicia was that she soon became very real. It took some weeks but then we started talking. She was a bit shy, I think. To me she seemed almost haughty but I think she was shy. I was eager to get to know her but a bit scared of her being so confident. She seemed not to care about what other other people thought about her and I admired that. The beginning was somewhat awkward but soon we became great friends. She wasn't at all haughty or aloof but, really, just as anybody else. I felt more confident together with her and I sensed that she enjoyed having a friend in the new place.
The best thing about Felicia was that she was like me, on the inside, that is. She had the most sparkling imagination ever possible. She liked my fantasies and shared her ideas with me and we realised that we had a lot of things in common. We both were fascinated by vampires and horror stories. We were not too keen on the kind of films were the mad killers splatter blood all over the place but rather the old romantic ones. She laughed but was flattered when I told her that she made me think of a fairy queen. She liked that because magic and fairyland was another thing we shared.
The things I am going to tell you about concern another interest of ours, something, maybe darker, but far more exciting and dangerous. I had carried this with me for a long time as a strange twisted burden, something I never dared mention to anyone. I think it came from my interest in Gothic horror and especially the kind that is concerned with old castles and horrible dungeons. I imagined the horrible deeds committed in the dungeons and the dreadful torture that was performed there. It was something else than the ordinary thrill of horror that filled me when I thought about being submitted to the terror of a castles dungeon. The sense of helplessness and fear that would fill you when you were strapped to the torture bench was exciting in another way to my mind. I felt a tingling of lust when I saw myself chained to a dungeon wall dressed in a flimsy dress awaiting my fate. The thought of being subject to horrible old time punishments made my cheeks blush and my heart race.
I felt embarrassed when my mind eagerly played out scenes of punishments and torture. I imagined being a captive or maybe a slave and subject to the humiliation of being publicly sold. Maybe the buyers needed to be shown the merchandise. I, the slave, would have to strip before them. To make a punishment more degrading the culprit got her dress torn from her body in front of the audience.
That was the things the tiny unassuming Miranda filled her head with and I don't think my classmates ever suspected that. The thing with Felicia was that she seemed to share some of my interest in the darker side of the mind. It wasn't obvious at first but I picked up on any interest she showed in the cruelties and degradation of horror stories. Soon I started to sense that she was quite keen on the more sinister details of stories we told.
It was with a sense of elation I began to feel that I had met a person with a mind as twisted as my own. Or at least, almost, as twisted. I was happy for that but a bit apprehensive. My fantasies was where I lived. If they were strange I had to be strange and twisted and I was ashamed. The sense of having someone to share that with was liberating.
It was, by no means, an easy thing to find out. It took me the whole term to realise that Felicia actually shared my interest in such things. I proceeded slowly and introduced more and more of my thoughts and found that she had some of her own. It may seem as I deliberately tried to get her to know me and my thoughts but I wasn't aware of any plan. I was just happy getting to know her and a bit cautious when talking about my darker fantasies. I was cautious but eager at the same time.
It was around Christmas time when I remember her telling me about something she read in a book about olden school days. She told me about how they had really hard corporal punishments in those days and that both boys and girls was birched and spanked for the slightest breach of rules. I remember the glow in her eyes when she told me about the worst of those punishments when the culprit had to lower their clothing to receive the birching on naked skin and that that also was done to girls. The most humiliating thing was that the punishment was performed in front of the classmates.
The enjoyment she showed when telling me this made me understand that she shared my interest in certain things. I had sensed it before but then I was sure. Her way of telling this story convinced me and made me bold and I admitted that the thought of having to subject oneself to such a punishment was quite exciting. She didn't seem the least shocked or disgusted by my admission which relieved me. I felt that I had told her something of my inner darkness and she had not seemed to mind.
After that our fantasies often turned to horrible things like torture and captivity and humiliating punishments. She quite enjoyed imagining the horror of being publicly whipped in front of the whole town or sold as a slave in a public market. I was happy, having someone to share those thoughts with and Felicia seemed to enjoy my imagination when I was conjuring up new humiliating situations.
There was one difference between us, a difference I wasn't aware of at the beginning but which became more and more obvious to me. Felicia was a fairy queen. When she spoke of horrible things she liked to describe them and shiver with horror at the thought of having something like that done to you but most often she seemed to see the scene in her mind as an onlooker or someone in charge. She didn't share my perspective of being the one always at the receiving end of the torture imagined.
It wasn't until March that year that things really changed. I remember it clearly. That afternoon things changed and after that nothing ever became the same again. We were sitting in Felicia's room chatting and imagining things as we often did after school. This afternoon we talked about how it would feel if there were spankings in school like it used to be. We talked about the people we most wanted to see spanked and the ones we most of all disliked having there if you would be spanked yourself. I remember our conversation clearly. Felicia turned to me and asked:
'Would you enjoy being spanked in school?'
'No, I don't think so,' I answered, 'although the thought is somewhat exciting.'
'I would hate it,' she said.
'Aren't you supposed to do that?'
'It seems to be the point with spankings.'
'It is supposed to be painful,' I said, 'and humiliating.'
'But an exciting thought, anyway.'
'Yes, isn't it strange?'
Felicia sat in silence for a short while.
'Would you like to be spanked?' she said.
I suddenly blushed. It felt as if she had seen through my disguise. That she saw inside my mind and asked me something that she wasn't supposed to know.
'How...how, do you mean?' I asked, still confused and embarrassed.
'I mean that we could test it. I can spank you and you can tell me what it was like.'
'Like an experiment...'
'Yeah, like an experiment.'
'I don't know,' I said, suddenly embarrassed and ashamed.
'Come on, Miranda, don't be such a chicken!'
My heart was beating fast. I was excited and I felt a tingling sensation in my body that made me shiver. My face was hot and I suppose I was blushing.
'Come on, Miranda, You want to try it.'
I could only nod. I wanted it to happen but was so embarrassed that I could sink through the earth. She had exposed my secret and I didn't want it to be too obvious that I wanted it.
'How...how, should I do?' I asked, my throat feeling dry.
'There, lean over the bed!' she said taking command.
I was trembling when I obeyed her orders. At the same time it felt good being commanded and not having to say or do anything of my own accord. I leaned over her bed, putting my arms and upper body on the top of it. I heard her move and picking up something. I looked over my shoulder and felt a strange sensation, almost as if I was about to faint, when I saw her holding a wooden hairbrush in her hand.
I knelt in silence as Felicia knelt behind me.
'Are you ready?' she asked, sounding quite eager.
I nodded. She then reached forward and flipped up my skirt. I was embarrassed by that but the sensation was at the same time quite arousing. I didn't want to admit that, even to myself, but it was quite exciting and terrifying. The mix of feelings was strange and something new.
I had never before had anyone looking at my bottom before, let alone, my bottom only dressed in knickers. The sensation was strange and thrilling.
'Ok, then,' she said and reached out her hand and I felt something against my bottom. I realised it must be the brush. I closed my eyes and prepared for the impact. I had imagined being spanked and whipped many times and in my mind it was quite an exciting thing but now I realised that it might hurt, there would be real pain and I wasn't sure I could cope with that.
I wasn't prepared when she hit me. The sensation was electrifying. It was like a bolt of electricity had passed through my body. My head swirled and then I felt the sting. She hadn't hit me hard but the sting was a sting of real pain. It hurt. The pain was not at all pleasant. It was, just, painful and horrible. The next smack was harder. I drew my breath and felt the pain. It really hurt. I hadn't imagined the pain like this. In my imagination the pain made me float away and lifted me to another level of conciousness but this was real pain.
Although I wasn't prepared for the pain and I didn't really know what to do with it I was in such a strange state of mind that I couldn't do anything but stay in place and subject myself to the spanking. I didn't want to feel the next smack, it hurt too much but something made me stay. I was to endure, it was supposed to hurt, it was supposed to be painful. That was what a spanking was all about. I was supposed to suffer and I stayed although the pain was horrible.
She smacked me for a while. I didn't count the strokes but it could have been a dozen or so. Felicia stopped spanking me. I drew my breath, thinking that it was over. Then she said:
'That was for warm up, now you'll get six of the best,'
Her words made me shiver. Six of the best would mean more power and more pain. I prepared for the worst. The thing that followed took me by surprise, though.
'Take down your knickers!'
'Felicia,' I cried.
'You'll have to take the last six on the bare,' she said with determination.
My head swirled with humiliation. She would see my bum and not only that, she would hurt it with the dreaded hairbrush. That was degrading.
My hands trembled when I obeyed her. I pulled down my knickers, slowly and just a little.
She then gave me six of the best on my naked skin. They were harder and really painful. I was trembling when she was done. I pulled my knickers up and my skirt down and rose and turned to Felicia.
I looked at her and saw her blushing. She was, obviously, agitated. I was a bit surprised by that but was too concerned with my own sense of pain and humiliation to think too much about it. The air in the room was tense. My mind was in turmoil and Felicia just sat there, looking at me.
'How was it?' she asked after a while. Maybe she needed to break the spell.
'Painful, really, really painful,' I said.
'It is supposed to be painful,' she said and suddenly we started to laugh. We were nervous and laughing was a way out of the tension. It helped. We were back to normal, as it seemed. In reality, things were never again to return to normal. There was a tension between us now but that tension was not altogether a bad thing. We didn't speak more about it that afternoon but when I walked home I sensed that I had changed. I had been spanked. It was something I had fantasised about but the real thing was very different. I realised that this treatment with the brush was nothing compared to the whippings in my mind but the pain had been very real and I had experienced a strange sensation of having been pushed to an edge and almost tipped over it. The pain had been worse than I could have imagined and not at all as pleasant as in my imagination. In fact, the pain was only painful and horrible. Still I was in turmoil. I had been spanked and the sensation was overwhelming. It was beyond anything I had ever experienced. It was something real but at the same time something that belonged to my inner life. It was as if the two had met and it was both unexpected and well known at the same time.
I was ashamed about the fact that I had accepted it but at the same time I was proud of having endured it. I was scared to bits by the sense of being pushed to an edge without having control. The fear of being pushed over the edge was overwhelming but at the same time I longed for the sensation of being pushed. I was even slightly disappointed that I had coped. I wanted to lose control but at the same time this was the thing I dreaded above everything.