No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

No good deed goes unpunished.

This story describes how a young lady loses her virginity and develops a love of sex and spanking. It is a romance and does not describe extreme bondage or sadomasochistic activity.

1

My name is Rebecca, and this is the story of how I lost my virginity. If you are reading this expecting a straightforward and lurid tale of how a young college girl gets drunk and has her first real sexual experience in the back of a car at the hands of a fumbling witless youth, please don't bother to read any further.

I am a Scottish Presbyterian and was brought up with a strict set of moral values. For as long as I can remember I have gone to church on Sundays. I was raised to be industrious, honest, and more than anything else chaste. I do not gamble, I do not swear (much) except in bed, I do not smoke, and I drink alcohol in moderation only and have never been drunk. I also have a trait, almost universal in people of faith, of feeling guilty about virtually everything.

I sound boring but I assure you I am not. I'm educated, have lots of interests, have a good sense of humour, and I am a good cook and hostess. Lately I have learnt to fuck like a bunny rabbit!

With the exception of the latter I am very much a product of my upbringing.

My parents were strict but fair and I know they loved me very much. They also believed in the power of spanking to reinforce good behaviour. I was a well behaved child, and this didn't happen often, no more than half a dozen times. Up until I was eight or nine years old my father would put me over his knee and spank my bare bottom with his hand but later this duty would fall to my mother.

The last time I was punished I was around thirteen years old and on that occasion my mother used a wooden spoon for the one and only time; four hard swats on the bare bum. I remember how angry and scared she was when I came home two hours late, after going to a cinema matinee, not having told them where I was.

When my parents were angry with me I was addressed as Rebecca. Most of the time they called me Becky as did my friends and my assorted relatives.

I was a quiet, introspective, and gawky teenager and had never had a boyfriend when I left home and went to London to study law. It would be true to say that, having attended an all-girls school and having no brother, I knew absolutely nothing about boys. Neither was I encouraged to mix with them. My parents saw to that.

At home there was an unspoken assumption that at some point in the future I would magically meet "Mr Right," get married, have a family, and live happily, albeit rather boringly, ever after. Until that happened males were not expected to feature in any of my plans.

By the time I left home when I was nineteen years old I had become an attractive young woman. My figure had filled out with curves in all the right places, and I had developed sculpted facial features with dark hair wavy hair, green eyes, and "kissable lips." The description of my lips was provided by David, of whom I will tell more in due course.

Almost predictably I had no idea I was attractive and, at first, of the effect I had on members of the other sex. That soon changed. From day one I had boys wanting to be my friend and I was asked out a half dozen times during my first week at university.

I refused them all.

Inexperienced as I was, I knew enough to let them down gently, so I told them I already had a boyfriend at home and wasn't going to "two time" him. Then, pretty soon afterwards, the boys started to leave me alone. This suited me fine. I had come to University to study and learn and not to rush into a relationship. Even in the short time I had been away from home I had learnt that most of the males in my age group were extremely immature and uninteresting and I was in no hurry.

After all, "What you've never had you never miss."

2

During my first year I lived in a university hall of residence. My neighbour, who occupied the room next to mine, was a young lady called Laura and we quickly became firm friends. Laura was also a first year law student and like me was keen to do well in her course work but where I was quiet and introverted she was noisy, bubbly, vivacious, and fun loving. She was shorter than I was and a little plumper with a pleasant innocent face.

She was NOT innocent.

I became aware of this about three days into term when she suggested we go to a disco that was being held in the students union as part of freshers week.

"Maybe If I'm lucky I'll get pulled by a postgrad student," she said.

"I finished with my boyfriend last month and I'm so horny. I've used my dildo that much that I'm going to have to get new batteries. At least my wand is rechargeable. But what I need is a man," she continued.

I was shocked by her words and must have shown it, and I did not reply to her. Laura picked up on this and spoke again.

"I'm sorry Becky. I didn't mean to shock you. I assumed because you had a boyfriend...."

"That was a convenient lie," I said.

"I've never had a boyfriend. I'm still a virgin but don't go around telling everybody about it. It would ruin my reputation." I smiled as I spoke.

"But I'm no prude and I'm not shocked. You surprised me. I'm just not used to folk talking honestly and openly about sex. My parents saw to that."

The following Friday evening Laura and I, accompanied by two other girls who lived on our corridor in hall, went to the disco. It was a typical student affair; crowded, hot and noisy. Nonetheless it was an opportunity to dress up, socialise and dance and I found myself enjoying it. Predictably I left alone but less predictably so did Laura.

Laura shouldn't have worried and within a few weeks she had found herself a 23 year old guy called George. He was in the process of writing his PhD thesis which described some esoteric biochemical research into cholesterol biosynthesis. Unsurprisingly he was very bright but was also extremely good looking and it was this that prompted Laura to strike up a conversation with him in the students union cafeteria one lunchtime. Within a month Laura was able to announce with authority that he was "extremely good in the bedroom department" and that she felt better.

"Proper slept with," are the words she used in her broad Yorkshire dialect. And then she gave me a blow by blow account of how he had "fucked" her the first time. After the repressive attitude to sexuality I had been brought up with Laura was a breath of fresh air. For her, sex was as normal as eating or breathing and certainly nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed by.

Laura was the daughter of a sheep farmer in The Dales and was the eldest of four children. She told me that she had been brought up to accept sex and procreation as a simple fact of life. It was after all something she had watched on the farm for as long as she could remember.

Although I respected Laura's right to do whatever she wanted with her own body I knew that I wanted something different and was determined to go to my marriage bed a virgin and in that respect my open conversations with her made no difference. What they did was to awaken in me thoughts of my own sexuality. I had never had any urge to masturbate and had never experienced an orgasm and for the first time I started to wonder what it felt like. Predictably I felt guilty by these thoughts.

3

Each year at the end of the Summer term, after the end of year exams were finished, a ball was held. This was a grand affair with a meal, live music, entertainment and for those who wanted it, as much alcohol as they could drink. Dinner jackets were mandatory for the men, and the ladies had their hair done, made themselves up, and wore evening dresses. The ball started at eight pm with predinner drinks followed by a four course dinner and then at four am the following morning, for those that could last the course, breakfast was served following which the event officially finished.

I had no intention to attend. Primarily because I had no one to go with and by then nobody was asking.

About a month before the ball Laura and I were chatting when she turned to me and popped the question.

"It's only a month to the ball do you want me to put your name down for a ticket?," she said.

And then, "George and I are going. You can come with us. And before you say you have no one to go with why don't you ask James. I'm sure he'd love to go with you. You must have seen the way he looks at you."

And I was reminded of a friend of Georges I had met socially on a couple of occasions. He had appeared shy and rather nice and well mannered. That was James.

And so I agreed provided I didn't do the asking. I wanted him to be sure that he knew that this was to be a platonic affair. In fact, not an affair at all.

On a Saturday evening in late May Laura and I waited at the hall entrance. We were both dressed in our finest and were well coiffured and properly made up. I am sure we looked beautiful as we stood waiting for our dates, and the taxi containing them, to arrive.

Laura wore a long red dress which accentuated her ample behind. I wore a long white satin dress and had had my hair styled with ringlets. A chunky silver choker completed the look.

We didn't have to wait long and a couple of minutes later a taxi pulled up and we squeezed into the backseat along with George, whilst James sat in the front. It took about twenty minutes to get to the students union building where the event was being held. George and Laura were relaxed and chatty, but James said nothing and as I sat quietly with only my own thoughts for company I wondered what I was doing there.

The taxi pulled up outside the union building and whilst James and I shyly said hello to each other George paid the driver. James looked smart in his dinner jacket, blue bow tie and blue cummerbund. He was tall and dark, and I noticed he had long fingers and neatly clipped nails.

The evening started off well enough with George and James chatting to each other as they drank their whisky and Laura and I had our own tete a tete over a glass of orange juice each.

James was more relaxed after a couple of scotches and when we went in for dinner I found him pleasant company. We talked about our career plans, sport (he was a keen athlete), places we would like to travel to or had already visited, and books. By the time we reached the main course of the dinner I was warming to him. Sometime between then and the dessert course I noticed that James had already polished off the best part of a bottle of wine on top of the whisky and by the time the meal finished he was slurring his words slightly. In contrast, my first and only glass of wine sat virtually untouched in front of me.

After dinner there was a choice of dancing or listening to a now well-known pop group but who were then just starting out, or a discotheque. We opted for the live group, and this is when the problems started. James had continued to drink and was dancing unsteadily and alone in front of the stage when Laura asked me to dance with her and George. The three of us were dancing together when James appeared. He stood in front of me and put his arms around me with a hand on each of my bum cheeks and attempted to kiss me on the lips. My natural reaction was to push him away and in his drunken state he fell on the floor, and I left the dance floor without looking back.

Laura had her back to these events but hurried after me.

"What happened," she asked.

"James started pawing me. Ask George. He saw it all. I'm fine now but I have had enough. I'll get a taxi home. Please don't worry. Stay here with George and enjoy yourself and I'll see you in the morning."

4

The following morning was a Sunday, and I woke in time to go to the communion service at the local church, so I dressed in my black dress and jacket with plain white blouse and went for breakfast in the hall dining room and set off. It was a bright sunny morning, and the twenty minute walk gave me time to gather my thoughts regarding the night before.

I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised James had made a pass at me. Laura was right about the way he looked at me and I wondered whether I could have handled things better. The problem was that he had been drunk. I was very disappointed with myself for allowing him to misinterpret my friendliness although I couldn't recollect any invitation to "get physical" but nonetheless irrationally started to wonder whether I had led him on. The truth was that if James had stayed sober and not started pawing me it might have turned out differently. Early in the evening after our initial awkwardness had worn off he had been pleasant company and there was no denying he was attractive, and I fancied him. I remembered his beautiful sexy hands and was surprised by my reaction to them.

When I returned from Church it was late morning and Laura was still asleep. I imagined she had not slept until early morning, and I didn't expect her to surface until later in the day and was proved correct when she knocked on my door sometime after three in the afternoon.

I opened the door and Laura came in and gave me a hug.

"I'm sorry Luv. James was out of order. After you left George and I had to take him home. Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. Just as well you left early because the cheeky bastard started shouting about you and George had to force him to shut up. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have suggested he take you to the ball. I'm so sorry."

"What did he say," I asked?

"Nothing important."

"Come on Laura. Better I know now than hear it third hand tomorrow or the day afterwards."

So grudgingly Laura told me. "He called you a prick tease and you deserved to have your bare ass spanked. That was the gist of it."

"If that's all he said why should I care," I said.

"But maybe he was right. Maybe I am a prick tease," I said thoughtfully, and I started to feel guilty whilst Laura gave me another hug.

That evening I went to bed early and fell into a deep sleep. I woke in the night and looked at my bedside clock which showed a few minutes before five am and then I fell asleep again and then, for the first time I can remember, I dreamed. I was in my room and lying across a man's lap and I was being spanked. I couldn't see his face, but I could see his big masculine hands as they rose and fell across my bare bottom. Incongruously whilst I felt no pain from the spanking I could feel the rough fabric of his trousers as I moved against him. I knew I was being punished for something but didn't know what it was.

And I was so horny. I could feel an unfamiliar moistness and need for relief high between my thighs.

I woke suddenly and simultaneously became aware of my arousal and a feeling of disappointment that my spanking was not real. Then I reached down and pulled my nightgown to my waist and cupped my left bum cheek with my left hand and with three fingers found the sensitive place between my labia and instinctively I started to rub.

It felt so good.

As I stroked myself I thought back to the dream and of that strong male hand rhythmically slapping my bare upturned bottom, and my pleasure grew stronger and stronger until I could stand it no longer. By then the movement of my fingers had become a blur as I desperately craved release until finally I reached orgasm. My thighs trembled and clamped down over my hand as my back arched and I bit into my pillow to prevent myself screaming with the ecstasy of the moment.

I lay in bed on my back and slowly recovered. Physically I felt alive, but my thoughts were those of confusion and guilt. Foremost in my mind was to try to understand the reason for the passion that had driven me. It was apparent that thoughts of spanking turned me on, and this frightened me because I thought it was abnormal. Additionally I had hoped to experience my first sexual experience with my husband on my honeymoon night but that was not to be and because of this I felt guilt. And I felt further guilt because my sexuality had awakened, and I knew that I would masturbate again.

And soon.

In the meantime I got up, had a shower and went out for a run around a local park before a very early breakfast. Just as I was finishing up Laura appeared. She crossed the near empty cafeteria and sat opposite me.

"You're up early," she said.

And that was enough for me to tell her what had happened.

She looked across the table at me, smiled, and quietly spoke. "At last. I was starting to worry for you. Its normal. Don't you dare feel guilty. If you would like to be spanked that's fine. It's a common thing. If virginity is so important to you don't worry. I'm sure your hymen remains untouched."

She paused. "Maybe that debacle with James wasn't such a bad thing."

The following Thursday was my twentieth birthday and a group of eight of us including Laura and George went out for a Chinese meal. It was a lovely evening, and I received a number of presents including perfume and assorted soaps.

Laura gave me a long narrow gift-wrapped box and quietly whispered in my ear. "Open it later when you are alone."

Back in my room I sat on my bed and curiously opened Laura's gift. It was a wand vibrator. Inside on the card was a handwritten card.

I know you'd be too shy to buy one for yourself. Happy Birthday XX Laura.

"Oh Laura. You mischievous bitch," I said to no-one in particular.

A little later I showered and brushed my teeth. Next I locked my door and stood in front of the mirror and took a look good at myself. I saw a five feet nine inch brunette with firm round breasts a flat narrow waist and firm muscular thighs. My pubis was shaved bare at the advice of Laura.

"It's cleaner and tidier and the sex is better because its more sensitive. Much better when a man goes down on you although I guess that's not on your agenda quite yet."

Not bad, I thought, as I looked at my naked body

I lay on my bed and with my legs wide I switched the wand on at its slowest speed and hesitatingly pressed it gently against my clitoris and the effect was almost immediate. The now familiar ache appeared and then started to build and was followed soon afterwards by the pleasure of feeling vibrating silicon against flesh.. As pleasure built on pleasure I pressed the wand down harder and increased the speed. As it gently hummed my breathing became noisier, my passion grew until my thighs clamped down onto the wand head and I climaxed. My orgasm was long and hard and seemed to go on for ever and I could not control myself and let out a long sigh of relief as I came. This time my relief was short lived, and after lifting the wand away for thirty seconds or so I was ready for more and shortly afterwards I brought myself to another long orgasm. And so it continued. Over the next half or so I brought myself to maybe a dozen shuddering orgasms; so many I lost count, until finally I was sore and sated and my body covered in sweat.

Later I fell into a deep dreamless sleep and didn't wake until mid-morning. I had missed hall breakfast and was making myself toast and marmalade with a cup of tea in the small kitchen at the end of our corridor when Laura appeared.

"Well?, " was all she said.

I smiled back at her and said nothing.

5

The following year at the request of my overprotective mother I stayed in hall whilst Laura decided to share a house with three other female students. Their house was at the other end of the city and two bus rides away. The result was that I saw far less of Laura socially although I still sat with her at lectures.

That year I went out on a few dates, but other than the occasional goodnight peck on the cheek there was no physical contact, and they came to nothing. Predictably enough I continued to use my vibrator and didn't go to the summer ball.