by Susan Thomas
Butterfly, of course, was streets ahead of all the other pupils but wasn't bored as she helped others; she was sure that if she stayed, the school would soon give her some teaching tasks and research work to do. She was very good at research. In spite of her academic prowess, she contrived enough rule-breaking to bend over in her knickers three times to receive three strokes of the cane each time. She loved the sore welts and the delicious feelings it gave her, but still hadn't managed to lose her virginity to David, though he was making more and more opportunities to talk to her.
One day, David contrived an excuse to invite her to his study to go over a new schedule for prefects' duties. Really, it had nothing to do with her but he fluffed up a reason, and she found herself alone at last with the godlike David. Their heads together over the schedule was generating electricity, and David began to breathe heavily. Butterfly decided that he was never going to make any further approach unless she took the lead, so she nestled in slightly to his neck and put her hand over his. David made a strangled sound, and suddenly Butterfly found herself in a passionate embrace with David kissing her hard while she kissed right on back again with enthusiasm.
Butterfly could feel his swelling and his hand slipped inside her blouse. She was eager for it to go further but... first of all doing it in David's study was risky, they needed somewhere more private, and then there was having sex without protection. She didn't want to get pregnant, assuming of course she could get pregnant in a story. Well, of course, girls did in books but then the writer created that but what about her? Was she a story character now as the book had adapted itself to her? If she did get pregnant what would happen? Could she leave and go back home with David's child growing inside her?
The doctor would ask, "Who is the father?"
What could she say? "Oh, just some character in a spanking story." Heavens, they'd have her in the psychiatric hospital sharpish.
Butterfly whispered to David that they had to be careful and needed somewhere more private to go. His eyes lit up. She asked if he had any protection and his eyes dulled, but then lit again as he thought about where he could get some, especially when he realised that he was on to a promise.
"I can get some protection this evening and I can get the key to the cricket pavilion. We can be really private there. Perhaps tomorrow?"
Butterfly agreed and with great reluctance they parted, but with the morrow to look forward to.
The cricket pavilion was frequently unused during the winter months so was ideal for what Butterfly and David had in mind. Separately, they made their way by indirect routes towards the pavilion until the last part of their journey. The pavilion had its back to a belt of trees that obscured it from the rest of the school and its grounds, with the cricket field in front of it. They met up in the trees, Butterfly aching to lose her virginity and David's groin simply aching to relieve the very large swelling inside his trousers. They kissed passionately before hurrying to the pavilion. Unbeknown to the pair of lovers, a spiteful figure lurked watching and deducing exactly what they had in mind.
David opened the door with the purloined key and, hurrying in, he practically threw off his trousers and underpants while Butterfly competed to get her skirt and knickers off. It was too chilly to completely disrobe and, anyway, both of them were anxious to get down to business. In her head, Butterfly was chanting 'at last, at last' while helping to put a sheath over David's big boy equipment when the door crashed open.
Dr Gasket and Matron stood at the open door and the headmaster shouted in rather dramatic tones, "In flagrante delicto."
"Pardon?" Matron was puzzled.
"Caught in the act," muttered Butterfly automatically, watching David's big boy turn to a little boy and wondering if she was ever going to lose her virginity.
"Get dressed immediately," thundered Dr Gasket, "and step outside. In one hour report to my office where I shall flog you both: twelve strokes of the best with my special cane."
David went pale which was very worrying as Butterfly knew he was fearless on the rugger pitch and in the boxing ring. They walked slowly back holding hands, and David told her they would spend the next few days lying on their stomachs in the infirmary. Butterfly's mind was working overtime; she liked getting the slipper and even the cane but one can have too much of a good thing. Twelve of Dr Gasket's finest with his special cane on her bare bottom was most definitely too much. It was time to go home but what about David? She thought it through. Kane Court School had already shown it could adapt to change quite easily, in fact Butterfly guessed that somehow Annabelle had found out about them and told on them. If she left, the story would heal itself by getting David with Annabelle which was probably what was originally intended. But what about David getting the cane? Of course, her absence would have to be woven in, letting David off the hook. Perhaps she would be found mortally wounded in the pavilion with David giving her the kiss of life. Somehow the story would sort it.
She kissed David. "Don't worry, David, I am going to deal with it. Neither of us will be caned, but I need to go to my room to get something to do that with."
She hurried off and had a sudden scary thought. Suppose the battery power on her transmitter was exhausted... she had no means of charging it. She was almost in a state of panic when she got to her room, because of course, without the transmitter she was stuck in the story forever. She quickly retrieved the little transmitter, flicked it on and it lit up. Where was the power coming from? She prised off the back and smiled. Of course. Clever Uncle Dragonfly had powered it by getting it to pick up the electrical impulses in the brain. Regretfully, she flicked 'home' and immediately found herself back in her lonely bedroom and in her original clothes.
She wondered if the marks from her many whackings still showed and they did... delightful reminders of her stay in Kane Court School. Still, what she also wanted was to lose her virginity, and really she had had enough of school stuff for a while; what she desired now was some good old-fashioned over the knee spankings. How to achieve both - losing virginity and getting spanked? The answer was of course Bots that Blush... romantic spanking fiction. She had half a dozen on her Kindle and quickly ran through the plot lines in her mind. It had to be a story where there wasn't just a single heroine, so she could fit in without disrupting the story too much. She had it! Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides; multiple brides and dozens of spankings, one more spanked bride would hardly be noticed and there has to be sex for a bride, doesn't there.
Chapter 3
In which Butterfly makes a mistake and pays for it, gets a new job and becomes a chaperone.
As it turned out, Butterfly did not immediately leap into Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides; her mother called and she spent a week helping her with research. Her mother (an academic) was writing about the long term effects on wounded soldiers of the First World War. It was fascinating work and probably a good thing because it allowed her bruises and welts to fade nicely, leaving her bottom once again a soft and delicate thing of beauty.
When the week was up and, eager to be spanked by some dish of a man, not to mention finally lose her virginity, Butterfly pressed 'insert' on her transmitter and thought of Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides. Immediately, she found herself in a rather rundown area of a town she didn't think she knew: there were shutters on the windows of the shops, graffiti on the walls, and uncollected rubbish piled up in alleyways. The machine had dressed her in a rather formal outfit, and in her hand there was an invitation to attend for a job interview at 12 Smallpox Street. According to the map on her 'phone, Smallpox Street was at the end of this grimy road.
Butterfly immediately knew what was going to happen; it was a standard of spanking romances. She was going somewhere dangerous or very dodgy; in a moment the clean-cut hero (masterful as well as honourable) would appear and warn her not to. With wilful silliness, she would tell him it was none of his business and walk on; she would be accosted by a villain or villains and the hero would come along and rescue her. Th
en he would exercise his right as the hero of a spanking romance and spank her... hopefully not in the street. Knowing this, she walked on, expecting the hero at any moment. He did not disappoint.
"You there, girl... stop. Wait there."
"Me?"
"Excuse me for stopping you..."
The man was tall, strong-jawed, blue-eyed and astonishingly like David, the head boy of her previous adventure... just older. Mid-thirties was Butterfly's guess and super fit looking, though wrapped up in an old anorak.
"You shouldn't be walking down this road, young lady; it's a very dangerous area."
"Well, thank you for warning me but I have an interview to go to."
"What kind of interview down there? It's nothing but massage parlours and places a youngster like you shouldn't know about."
Butterfly knew the sort of response expected of her and duly gave it. "Well, thank you for your concern, but really that is my business and not yours. Good day." Then she walked on, expecting to be accosted at any moment by the villain. Again, the predictability of a spanking romance soon brought three nasty-looking characters; two stood in her path and the third behind, breathing heavily over her shoulder.
"Did we say you could come down here?"
Butterfly was delighted; this was so cool, just like the stories she'd read. Surely this would end in a hot spanking and then, with a bit of luck, bye-bye virginity.
"I have every right to walk down a public street without any permission from you."
"Not without a payment to us, and we know just the payment we want, don't we boys?"
They all leered at her, and the one behind started nuzzling her neck; it was quite disgusting as he stank of fried onions. Butterfly used the edge of her sole to scrape down his shin while ramming her elbow in his rather flabby tummy and then brought her head back sharply, connecting nicely with his nose. Much of her courage came from knowing the plot would bring the hero rushing to her aid, and for the third time she was not disappointed. There he was, the strong-jawed clean-cut hero of the spanking romance genre.
"You're in my parish so leave the girl alone."
"Eff off vicar, this is nuffin' to do with you."
"Yes it is, Shiv, you're in my parish and I've warned you before to stay out or you'll have me to reckon with."
Vicar? Butterfly was puzzled; how could a spanking hero be a vicar, especially a super-fit looking man one like this. If he really was a vicar, where stood her virginity? The spanking might well be OK, but she really wanted more than that. Even as she puzzled over the word vicar, Butterfly saw Shiv's hand begin to move very fast towards the hero. Clearly it was going to be a nasty blow.
It all happened so fast that afterwards Butterfly couldn't really work out what had gone on. She had barely noticed Shiv's hand moving when he was down on the ground unconscious. The man behind her pushed her out of the way but even before she stopped moving he too was down, kneeling on the pavement, holding his stomach and groaning softly. The third man drew a knife. The hero smiled.
"Are you really sure about this, Shank?"
Shank moved very fast indeed, clearly with murder on his mind, and then he was down on the ground swearing and holding his arm, and the hero was dropping the knife down a drain.
"Now clear out of my parish and don't let me catch you here again or I might have to hurt you."
They watched the three stumble away down the road, and then he turned to Butterfly. "Where is this interview?"
Butterfly was calm at this point; as the heroine she should be polite but perhaps uncooperative. "Smallpox Street."
"You silly girl, down there is Smallpox Road, one of the nastiest bits of town and sadly, just outside my parish boundary."
Butterfly looked at the map on her mobile and saw that indeed it said road and not street. A silly mistake which, looking at her letter and watch, meant she wouldn't make the interview. She wasn't bothered; the interview and the mistake about the address was clearly just the author's device to get her in the right place at the right time. However, she had to play her part and give the right impression.
"Oh dear, yes, I see. I just saw Smallpox and didn't think there could be two places with such a horrid name, how very silly of me."
"Indeed, but not as silly as ignoring my advice to go no further. Had I not been around you could easily have fallen foul of Shiv, Stomp and Shank. Worse still, had you gone much further you'd have been in their territory and not my parish; they would then have claimed you as their legitimate prey."
"Two questions: are you really a vicar and are those names their real names?"
"Yes, I am really a man of the cloth." He pulled his anorak open to reveal a clerical collar. "Jack Standish, vicar of St Anita and St Adrian and no, those three call themselves that but what their real names are I couldn't say. Now, you'll have missed your interview and I am not having you wandering around without an escort, so you come back with me to the vicarage and we'll see what to do from there."
Butterfly went without argument. She knew what was in store at the vicarage and that was a jolly good spanking, but from a vicar? How on earth could some clot have made a vicar the hero of a spanking story? She had to admit he was pretty fit-looking and had made short work of Shiv, Stomp and Shank, but a vicar! How could he take her virginity as a vicar... this was just not normal in a spanking story... unless, unless. The story was about brides. Vicars conduct weddings... brides, weddings? No, it still made no sense.
Butterfly was expecting a mock gothic church with a hideous rambling Victorian vicarage attached, all rather glum with perhaps a graveyard alongside. What she saw as she rounded the corner was a very modern building, rather attractive in fact, with a very large building alongside signed 'Church and Community Centre' and next to that a handsome building with a sign proclaiming 'Vicarage and Parish Office'. Outside the buildings were several rather large tough-looking men watching the street. On seeing the vicar they broke into smiles.
"Hey, Rev, good to see you're back. We've heard word Shiv and his boys have got into the parish."
"Yes, I saw them. This foolish young lady ignored my warning and they accosted her so I dealt with them and sent them packing. They've got a bit uppity of late so I think we may need to teach them a lesson. We'll talk more at the parish meeting."
The men all gave Butterfly disapproving looks, and one of them muttered, "Best give her a lesson too, Rev."
The Rev. Jack Standish smiled. "Pete, I intend to do exactly that." The tough men all broke into broad grins.
Butterfly was utterly bewildered. He was clearly the hero of a spanking romance but he was a vicar and had thuggish-looking men hanging around like gangsters at the gang HQ. She shook her head and allowed herself to be walked into the pleasant but not luxurious vicarage. A plump woman aged around fifty came bustling out of a door, wearing a large wrap-around apron. She spoke in a pleasant West Country accent.
"Oh vicar, I am so pleased you're back, there are rumours flying around about Shiv and company."
The Rev. Jack told her the story, and she looked extremely disapprovingly at Butterfly.
"You're a very silly girl ignoring the Rev. Jack's warning; they're nasty folk especially where a silly young thing like you is concerned." She turned to the vicar. "I do hope as how you are going to warm her bottom for her, vicar."
Butterfly loved this writer's style; fancy getting this motherly-looking woman to initiate the inevitable spanking! It cut out all that macho dialogue nonsense. She couldn't help turning to see what the Rev. Jack would say.
"My very next task, Mavis. Perhaps you'd chaperone me while I do it."
Taking Butterfly's elbow firmly in one hand, he led her off to a room which turned out to be his study, and plonked himself down on an upright chair. Butterfly had to make some kind of protest, though she didn't put much effort into it and frankly, a five-year-old could see that she wasn't really protesting, but neither the Rev. Jack nor Mavis seemed to notice.
Butterfly had nev
er experienced being placed over someone's knees before and it surprised her by being quite embarrassing as she found herself with her head dangling down on one side of his trousers, hands touching the floor, with her legs just touching the floor on the other. She felt her skirt being lifted and again found that, too, was surprisingly embarrassing, even to the point where she made little squealing noises. Butterfly took herself in hand. Really she wanted this spanking with all it entailed, so while it was alright to act out the part she had to relax and enjoy. However, when she found her tights and knickers being tugged down (delicately to be sure but down nevertheless), it did make her squirm more than she'd expected, and there was no acting in the little squeals she gave.
The first smack came down on her right bottom cheek and, even though the study was full of books, it sounded very loud indeed. The first smack was a terrible shock; it just stung more than she would have believed possible, and Butterfly felt her whole body jerk. The Rev. Jack carried on spanking at a furious rate, alternating where the smacks landed while the sting just escalated alarmingly. Butterfly heard Mavis mutter, "Slow down there, vicar." The pace did slow but it was still pretty rapid. Later, Butterfly found the spanking had lasted three minutes exactly. That might not sound much but when it is your bare bottom being spanked hard and fast it is an eternity. Butterfly struggled to stay quiet; she began to make sounds like "Mmmer" as she compressed her lips to suppress the cries; tiny little grunts and snorts escaped her, but she did not cry out.
What she did do was move; she simply couldn't stop herself. She knew she was wriggling as her bottom, all of its own accord, tried to avoid the burning hand of the spanking vicar; her legs stretched and moved, and her feet curled. She could even feel her legs begin to see-saw up and down which was stupid because the rapidly escalating sting and burning heat was all in her bottom. It didn't take long for her hands to come off the floor and begin to clench and unclench. Finally, she found she could reach the chair legs and she just grabbed hold and hung on.
