From the Top Shelf - A Tale of Two Sisters

I discovered this story by Christopher James, originally published in Janus magazine 30 years ago. "A Tale of Two Sisters" is a young man's reminiscences of holidays in the north east of England back in the 1930s. I believe it is located in or around the home of English author Catherine Cookson. Does anyone know if any of her books have spanking in them?


But I digress. Here is part one.

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. 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."

"Oh, I don't know. That's silly. Spanking 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.

There is more to come next week. Lucky Rose!