Female Pilot Medical Procedures

"I don't know how long she has been doing it. She looks about thirty, so I guess it will be four to five years. So she may have scraped, prodded and perhaps offered castor oil and caning to between three and four hundred pilots. If about twenty of us caned her in return, then it looks like one in fifteen to twenty of us have responded positively. Our pilots, because they are in the system, would find it hard and dangerous for their careers to say 'no,' despite what Janet said."

"So why is she offering it to so relatively few? It must be the security clearance. You are my partner and they know about your security clearance. In certain areas, it exceeds mine. If the pilot had a partner outside the Air Force or other armed service, the lack of security clearance could be a problem. The partner would see cane marks on her ass and could talk about it. But it was close to the limit of what I can accept."

Otis stared at me and said, "I never thought of that aspect, but it could be right. Your acceptance of the caning and the fortitude you displayed may have worked wonders for your career."

With Otis in my arms, I rested my head on his shoulder. I'm marginally taller than him.

"Otis, I brought the cane back here. She told me with hygiene considered; use a cane on one person only, unless you know a future recipient is healthy. We can have fun with it. A caning seems to do a lot for me. When my mother strapped me, I was eighteen, and it caused me arousal, but it was nothing like yesterday's caning. To have more of it in a sexy environment would be wonderful."

Otis hugged me and replied, "I always wanted to spank you but did not dare to ask. Please, will you cane me, too? It would be great if we could have some spanking fun! I got spanked and whipped with a switch while growing up. I know what it's about, although it wasn't a turn-on then."

"Darling," I said, "You can do it to me once my present marks fade, but I need to be careful. Maybe heavy marks on my ass are a bad idea. If they are close to being blood blisters, they could burst during high G manoeuvres. I need to find a way of enjoying skin stimulation without physical damage."

"I have been more than naughty. On a spanking website, I found out about a thin-stranded leather flogger. The article said it gives a good sting but does not cause bruising. There were pictures of a girl's whipped ass, which looked red and sore, but without bruising. It described how to make your own and I need to buy the bits required. They sell them at good haberdashery stores and equestrian outlets, so let me get moving on it."

This gave Otis an enormous surprise!

"You are a naughty girl! You deserve a sore ass just for your wicked thoughts!"

But he was smiling!

In each other's arms on the couch, we relaxed to some music. To settle my stomach after supper, I said, "Let's walk down to the lake and when we come back, well, you know!"

So we strolled down to the lake a kilometre away. There were people fishing and rowing, etc. After walking around it, two hours later, with bats out in the dusk, we were home. The experience of relieving myself with the doctor present had done something to me. Sitting on the loo, I took a pee with Otis there, and he could not resist looking at me. I had never done that before, and we enjoyed it.

I got up from the loo, wiped myself and got in the shower.

"Help me wash," I asked.

Otis could not wait and he had a diamond cutter of an erection. Sex was going to be excellent after this.

We dried in record time. In bed, after a kiss and cuddle, we had a sixty-nine session. Otis massaged my cane marks as he sucked at my clitoris and labia. Sex in the doggy position was amazing, and I had an earth-moving orgasm. The doggy position is wonderful if your ass has received skin stimulation. Repeated pressure on my cane marks was heavenly, and I thanked the Air Force for providing me with the means of enjoying the experience.

It did not embarrass me when I went to buy the bits for the flogger. The next day, in smart informal wear with dark glasses and a baseball cap, I went to the equestrian outlet and bought the leather cords. There wasn't a murmur or a sly look from the staff, and it had been easier than I dared to think.

I prepared the flogger but was not yet ready to try it out. The following week, I was away on a week's exercise involving a lot of flying. The squadron flew back to our base at its completion as many aircraft were due for a major service. By the time I was back, the cane marks on my ass had faded and I was ready for action! It was a week at least before I was required to fly again, which gave us time for some serious spanking!

Otis said he had been very busy while I was away, but I knew he could not elaborate.

The flogger had nine circular leather cords about forty centimetres long. Each cord had a diameter of three millimetres. There was a design suggestion to tie figure eight knots at the end of each strand. This carried the warning these could leave little enduring marks where they struck the skin, so I decided not to include them.

That evening, when Otis came home, I said, "Love, I'm hungrier for sex and spanking than I am for food."

"I can't wait either," Otis replied.

We showered together, and I showed him the flogger.

"Let me hand spank you first to warm you up. That's what they say on the spanking website."

I had put a chair beside the bed. When I sat on it, he came over my knee with his upper body and head resting on the bed with his ass over my knees.

I started spanking him as hard as I could. It wasn't long before my hand was hurting. After giving him about sixty spanks, I asked, "Is it having the desired effect, because my hand is hurting?"

Otis can't be completely innocent, because he said, "We need a leather paddle to take the place of the hand."

I laughed and agreed with him!

Otis knelt on the bed with his ass up and shoulders down.

"Carry on, but please don't whip me in the balls."

In line with the website instructions, I began with light strokes across the middle of his bum. There was no reaction and no marking. I increased the force of the strokes, but left a longer pause between them. He didn't make a sound, but jerked a little after each stroke. Greyish marks appeared. After maybe thirty strokes, he collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his ass, which was covered in grey stripes. He got up, showing his usual diamond-cutter erection.

I took him in my arms and reached down to his ass, which was warm. I could feel raised ridges.

"It's more painful than the switching. It must be the nine strands stimulating so many nerves."

"I need it now," and I knelt on the bed.

"Be careful of what you wish for."

Otis started in on me. It stung like all hell. The pain was more intense than the cane and it took my breath away. The website article warned the flogger was surprisingly painful despite its lightweight fabrication. It was so quiet in use, without the 'crack' of a cane stroke.

By counting each stroke out loud, I got a grip on myself. Otis had given me twenty-four strokes when I yelled, "Stop, that's as much as I can take."

"You are such a wimp," I thought. The bedroom mirror revealed a mass of ridged, reddish lines across my ass.

I rubbed frantically at them, and the sting decreased. The website suggested that a good punishment was thirty-six strokes, so I knelt again on the bed.

"Give me twelve more, please," I begged.

In silence, Otis gave me twelve more strokes of the flogger, and I'm sure, increased the force of the final three, which made me feel like crawling up the wall.

I managed not to cry, although I felt like doing so. The pain was agonising.

"Oh, wow, thank you for taking me to my limit. They say that you are most horny shortly after getting a very sore ass. Let's see if that's true."

My ass was on fire, although the stinging pain was decreasing. I knelt again on the bed, ass up and shoulders down.

"Stick it in me, you wicked man!"

He got on board and gave me the hardest rogering of my life to date. I had multiple orgasms, and I squirted. Fortunately, I had put a bath towel on the bed more out of habit than for any other reason. This was a fresh experience, in so many ways.

Afterwards, we lay there in each other's arms and I was still shaking with orgasmic aftershocks.

I wanted Otis to finger my G spot and kiss my clitoris. My love juices had flowed, and I was soaking but clean otherwise.

"Love, please go down on me. I'm still so horny."

Otis was a good guy. He caressed my cheek and said, "You naughty girl. You have got the sore ass you so much need. But I must take care of you now."

I lay on the side of the bed, legs apart, with my feet on the floor. He fingered me and kissed my clitoris and I thought I could die of pleasure. Small tears of ecstasy oozed out of my eyes.

The website had warned not to burn out with excessive activity. There's always another day.

But Otis asked, "Honey, please, can you go down on me?"

So I gave him a great blowjob. That he could get it up again was a delight and a surprise!

In the morning, the ridges on my ass had gone down, and the welts were fading. Sitting on the marks felt wonderful. If I wriggled about, I could bring on an orgasm!

The cords were light, and with reasonable force used, their effects faded quickly in comparison with cane marks. Those little cords produced a sharper pain than the cane. So the flogger was extremely painful, but the pain was short-lived. Used with care, it was less damaging than the cane, and this was what I needed in my situation.

Otis said he could still feel the sensations but was not in pain.

In the office, there was plenty to do following the exercise. After the caning, I had to be careful not to sit in a hurry for two days. There would be no such problem after a session with the flogger.

Our Air Force encouraged us to spend part of each working day in the Gym. I spent time there mid-morning when it wasn't busy and succeeded in not showing off the fading welts on my ass. My colleagues said I looked great.

The performance evaluations from the exercise came through and I had done very well. In all areas, I was in the top three and I came second overall. That's where you need to be.

The boss asked me and some of my colleagues to come to a meeting. It was recruiting time at the colleges and he was looking for volunteers to entice students to join us. He always needed those of us of African Heritage to show up. There was a pool of talent within our ethnicity that the Air Force needed to tap into. I had taken part in this before and agreed to go again.

There was going to be re-training in how to engage with the students ('poster girl') and about the approach the Air Force would take this time around. For the first time, there was going to be a partner approach to recruiting. If you were with an Air Force partner with the right stuff, you might do your thing as a couple in the Air Force.

The colonel talked with me and said that Otis was being approached because of this and was not to be surprised.

He said, "Your medical went very well. Old-fashioned upbringing works wonders in the real world."

Delicately put! I guess he knew everything, and I could not help smiling at the twinkle in his eyes.

"Don't worry; we are going to find plenty for you to do. You have been in your present rank for over three years."

What was coming?

That evening at home, Otis came through the door and after the usual hugs he said, "It's recruiting time!"

"Did they talk to the partner thing with you too, if it's not a secret?"

Otis laughed.

"Yes, they did, and asked me if you and I can talk about it."

"First, how is your ass?"

"It's fine, but needs soothing as soon as possible, please."

We showered together. Our relationship, whilst involving a lot of good sex, was respectful, and we took care to give each other space. Our position as partners within the Air Force made us cautious. But things had changed, I thought for the better.

Probably the cane and now the flogger had changed things.

We had never showered together before. As soon as we dried ourselves, I took Otis in my arms. I was slightly more forward in pursuit of intimacy than he was.

I felt his ass, and I found that the ridges from the cords had almost disappeared. Otis did the same to me.

"It's an improvement on the cane. If we want the erotic side of things, we use the flogger. If one of us needs discipline, then it's time for the cane!" I said.

"Love, it takes about a half hour after a dose of the flogger before I get extra horny. But when it arrives, it's out of this world!" replied Otis.

I had been reading up on the use of toys during spankings.

"I would love to try the flogger with a vibrator running inside me! A website said it's a magic feeling. The girl in question described having to stop the flogging because the strength of the orgasms scared her! Honey, do you want to watch me use the vaginal pressure measuring instrument?"

"What's that?"

I hadn't told him about it because there had been so much else going on and I had been away alone on another base for the exercise. It had been possible during the exercise to exercise my pelvic muscles. In the evenings, with the intense flying, we didn't drink or spend late nights in the mess.

I got out the measuring instrument and plugged it in. My laptop was already running on the bedside table and I connected the interface lead.

"Otis, please help me get in the mood and I will show you. Go down on me, please."

He fingered my G spot and kissed my clitoris with the usual electric result!

"Love, I'm in the mood now. Watch what I do."

With the sensor bulb inserted, I pumped it with the squeeze ball and then took hold of the record button.

I relaxed, gathered my thoughts, and then gave the sensor the hardest squeeze I could. I did it twice. Looking at the laptop, the picker on the top of the pressure wave showed a peak of seventy-five per cent above the resting figure!

Otis looked on in surprise!

"What's this about?"

"Love, the Air Force has been having problems with some of us girls experiencing vaginal prolapse brought on by G forces. This is one way for us to train the pelvic muscles so that it reduces the risk. It's good for you because I can get a better grip on your dick. Please, give me one now."

As I lay there, I saw him staring, as usual, at my lovely curves.

He knelt between my legs and I felt him enter me. 'Let me see if you like this,' I thought. Once fully inserted, I gave him repetitive squeezes, not at full strength, which would have been tiring, but with enough of a grip for him to feel it!

I heard him gasp!

"How do you do that? It's wonderful."

He thrusted away as I kept on squeezing him. Shortly, he exploded, and I was full of his cum!

We rested contentedly after I cleaned up in the shower.

We were on a normal work routine, so we could dress in civilian clothes off duty.

Otis was going to be hungry, as sex had taken the place of an early supper. It was early in the week, and downtown venues were unlikely to be busy. I have to say, at home, I did most of the cooking, as Otis was not at his best in that area.

One of our favourite venues was a seafood establishment which offered a discount, so I suggested we go there before the night drew on.

Otis liked that idea, so we got ready and drove there.

It has a large ornamental fish pond towards the exterior of the place with some tables around it. They were quiet, and we sat at one of those tables.

I did not have to fly for three days, so I could order shellfish. We both had six oysters and grilled sea trout.

On the way home, Otis suggested we stop by the lake in the dusk. The moon was up and the atmosphere was romantic. I wondered what this was about and did not have to wait long. In a secluded spot between two stands of trees, he took me in his arms and kissed me.

'Public displays of affection' (PDA) in the Air Force are contrary to rules, but we were out of uniform, we were alone and it was nearly dark. Otis was always very careful.

He said, "Josie Darling, the longer we are together, the better life gets. Please, will you marry me?"

"Sure," I replied, my voice shaking a little. "Darling, I knew you would ask me one day. My parents will be so relieved. Do we tell the CO?"

"Yes," he said, "We have to."

"We should do it right away. It can't do any harm and it may do just the opposite."

"Would you like an engagement ring, or just wait for the wedding band?"

I am not materialistic and not one for much of a show!

"Love, I've not thought about it. I'm not bothered about an engagement ring, and I know my folks have a beautiful wedding band belonging to one of my great-grandmothers. Let me talk to my mum. There's no need to spend money on me. You know what I like!"

When younger I had seriously hot pants, despite being intelligent. My hot pants were the reason for the hardest strapping my mum gave me when she caught me in a petting session with no knickers on.

My 'hot pants' thing turned into a healthy, and I believe, discerning sexuality as I grew up. Otis wasn't the most handsome on the planet, but he was kind, polite, reliable, funny, well endowed, loved sex and was also extremely intelligent, which I liked. He was a good man and we would be happy together. This I knew, having lived with him for two years.

His reaction to 'spanking' activities had been spot-on. It had elevated an already good sex life to a higher plain. There were so many sexual areas left to explore. I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him.

Otis requested an interview with the CO and asked that I could be present. He informed the CO's secretary that the interview would involve his partner. I was aware of that and wished to be part of the interview, which was personal to both of us!

I submitted simultaneously a similar request, with the wording to acknowledge that I knew my partner (senior to me) had made a similar request.

Our joint interview took place on Friday at five p.m.

Being the senior, Otis did the talking. The Colonel braced us (attention), and Otis said, "Sir, I have to report that Lt. xxx (as I was then) and I wish to marry."

The Colonel said 'At Ease,' and we went to 'Ease'.

Then 'Stand Easy.'

The Colonel held out his hand to Otis and then to me, and said, "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your wise decision. I'm so happy for you."

Then he said, "The Air Force 'says' (unwritten etiquette) that you must buy me a drink in the mess tonight and I buy you one, then it's a done deal. All that remains is for you to publish details of the wedding, etc. Off the record, because I don't want this to be overheard in the mess, the decision to grant you married accommodation as partners was difficult to negotiate with higher command. Your marriage announcement and your performances within the Air Force have justified our local decision, for which I must thank you."

"Attention."

We came to attention.

"Dismiss."

Off we marched. Sometimes military discipline makes things easier, and this was one of them.

We had drinks that evening with the colonel and a bar snack in the mess.

I looked at the forthcoming work schedule. They worked our squadron very hard, possibly because we scored high in exercises and had a low personnel turnover. After three more days, we were to have a day checking out the serviced aircraft by making test flights. Then we would spend four days on 'security patrols.' These were going to start on the Saturday. We are in the post nine-eleven world. I can't say much more than that.

After our evening in the mess, I told Otis about my schedule. By chance, he was going to be away for the first two days of it and could not say why or where. This was good because our absences would partly coincide.