Chapter 1 Late teens, my recruitment, the ‘plan’ explained. I am caned for premarital sex.

You may know me by the name of Faridah for this story. I grew up in one of the relatively recently wealthy Arabian Gulf States. My family was wealthy by any standard and ran three successful businesses. I was an intelligent and very spirited young woman. Fortunately, I understood how things were.

My sister and I went to the best local school in the city. We took part in sports and social activities that were permitted (and I sometimes exceeded) by local standards. At sixteen, I was ‘spotted’ by our local security services as a possible future agent. I was not aware of that.

We grew up in a time of huge economic and social change. Our parents did their best to protect us from it, at least until we could make our own decisions. I will always be grateful to them for that.

My father was well-connected to the government. I think the security establishment had a little chat with him. One evening he sent for me and had a talk with me alone in his study. He asked me if I would mind joining as he said, ‘Government Service’. He warned me that if I did, I would be required to maintain absolute secrecy about whatever went on, or I was told or heard there, etc.

He said if I agreed; I had his and my mother’s blessing. I was never to discuss it at home, and not to mention it with my sister, who was almost four years younger than me and with whom I was very close.

Mother largely brought us up. She was wise, kind and an excellent mother to us in a mixture of traditional and modern approaches. For instance, we were subject to the traditional punishments at home, which from the age of sixteen included being caned when we seriously went too far.

I took my canings quite well, as Mother did not give them very hard, but hard enough to cause a nasty sting and leave red marks for a few days. I always deserved it. It was much better than being grounded. We knew our friends experienced similar punishments, although we did not talk about them very much. It was nothing unusual to me.

Mother gave my little sister a caning for unacceptable behaviour after she was sixteen. Mother carried on caning her until she was ‘given’ to me shortly before her eighteenth birthday to maintain her discipline. This worked out very well.

The school prepared us for the overseas student’s UK exams. If you wanted to go to university or carry on with other high-level education and training, then you needed to complete the final two years at school.

However, I was not too fond of the idea of attending lectures in an academic background any longer; I was too much of a free spirit.

At seventeen, I trained four hours a week at a government college for the Civil Service while in school. The branches of government service were growing rapidly and they could not wait for the universities to churn out people with degrees to fill our ranks. After six months of ‘foundation training,’ a small group of us went for further education in a large but nondescript building.

It had a big enclosed compound, high windows, etc. and a discretely guarded security door. The main body of the students did not notice as it was so well done. I left school at eighteen with reasonable exam results. I went full-time into Government Service.

They were training us to enter the realms of ‘State Security.’ Modern electronics fascinated me and my dad had organised one of the downstairs rooms for hobbies. In my case, and unusual for a girl, this included practical electronics. A much older Indian woman taught me how to solder and explained a lot of the theory to me. This woman had worked for the British forces fixing radios, etc.

She put me in touch with a couple of electronic magazines. I bought some kits from them, put these together and made them work, all unusual activities for a girl. However, I loved it; I do not know why. I moved on to short-wave radio after the Indian woman talked to me about it. Father bought us girls a two-person racing dinghy and taught us to sail it. I caught on very quickly and loved sailing it with my sister.

However, another thing was happening. Intense sexual urges had begun within me. There is more that I need to say. The design of our housing reflected our religious traditions. The house had an isolated area from the rest of the house for the women. This was necessary to comply with our religious system.

The design of the house included modern soundproofing. Mother was often away supervising cooking or something; we daughters in our area had more freedom that is perhaps available to most Western girls.

There are two sides to most coins. My sister Salma was just as sexy as me, possibly more so. She was far more academic than I was and was very wilful. Mother caned her regularly, but not very hard.

One day, after I had put a dent in the car and broken a rear light, Mother gave me twelve hard cane strokes. I took it well; I had a very high pain threshold. Mother always caned me bare bottom and noticed when I started dripping from my pussy

Mother looked embarrassed. From then on, she would cane me only for serious rule-breaking or foolish actions while I was living with her. Salma was about seventeen and a half when one day; she said to me, “Next time, why don’t you cane me with just the two of us present? Mother doing it embarrasses me. I’m almost a grownup”

I was twenty, so I discussed it with my mother. Mother said that she agreed and would tell me when Salma was up for six (or eight, whatever) strokes of the cane and that she would know. I could do it at a time agreed between Salma and me and mother would later look at her bottom and see that I had carried it out.

Salma always wanted her caning at night. The first time I had to cane her, I gave her six good hard stingers as prescribed by my mother, and she took it well. We girls have two adjoining large bedrooms and share a bathroom, which is equipped with a shower, toilet, Jacuzzi and a bidet.

Salma rushed into the bathroom as soon as the caning was over. She did not shut or lock the door. It turned out that the caning turned on Salma and she wanted to play with herself on the bidet afterwards.

The pain from the cane marks while sitting on the bidet was worth it because of the water spray on her intimate parts. She sat on the bidet and played as I have described.

Until that time, I did not know she had been doing that. She turned round to look at me, obviously in the throes of a lovely orgasm, as I watched. She smiled and said, “That’s how I make myself feel better after studying for hours, as well as after a caning, which always makes me feel so horny.”

The bidet was often dripping wet when I visited the bathroom immediately after Salma. I did not realise we could use it for anything like that, and I was not exactly innocent. Salma was so naughty, more than I could have imagined. Right in front of me, she opened two fingers of her left hand in an inverted ‘V’. She gently massaged her labia, with her clitoris caught in the narrow end of the V. The bidet spray was still running. I was not angry, just very surprised.

“Do not you do this?” Salma asked me, all innocence. “It’s even better after a caning.”

She soon stopped, got up and dried herself. We went into her bedroom and she got me to rub some Aloe Vera into her cane marks, which were red and ridged, but not agonisingly painful.

Salma was getting tired, so I left her to sleep and I went back to my room to think about things. Life carried on like this for several months.

Then one day, I got a big surprise. Salma said to me, “Sometimes, even if Mother has not asked you to do it, I am going to ask you to cane me. I would like to do it on a Thursday evening because I can have a sexy play afterwards and rest a bit on Friday.” (Thursday is the start of our weekend).

Salma said her school results had improved a lot since she had been playing with herself after I caned her. Salma had asked me to increase the force of my canings. Although my canings were more painful than those given by my mother were, they were a much bigger turn-on for Salma. These harder canings had also the unforeseen result of improving her schoolwork. Salma had toughened up and with the embarrassment factor removed; she wanted to be caned frequently.

For me, sex was partly complemented by caning once I was over eighteen. However, I realised I still needed canings after they had decreased in frequency.

My security training taught me, when confused about things, to put them away in my mind and get them out later. I watched a favourite video and then went to bed. The next evening, I went for a run. Salma went for a run a few times a week and I would often go for a jog with her on Friday evening.

Down at the track, by chance, I met a woman whom I had known for a few years who was into ‘natural history.’ She liked to go down to the only wet wadi near the city (i.e. it always had flowing water between the rocks) and look for unusual creatures, photograph migrating birds, etc.

Her name was Jasmine and she was teaching science at the school attended by Salma. I was keen to find out if any of the staff had seen any change in Salma.

So I said, “I would love to come with you on one of your trips to the Wadi or wherever else you might need a companion when you look for bugs, etc.”

Jasmine replied, “I’m going next Friday down to the wadi to a different place, and a bit further inland. We must scramble down about thirty metres of rocks to get into the wadi. It is narrower there and the pools are knee-deep.

“The local goatherds take their animals there to water. I wonder if that has any effect on the wildlife and I want to look. Would you like to come along? I can pick you up because you need a four-wheel drive to get there.”

I accepted with thanks immediately. We talked about what to wear, ankle boots, etc. We parted, and I went home. The week went by. On a Wednesday evening, Salma came to me and asked me to cane her the next night.

Thursday night arrived and at the appointed time, I asked Salma, “How many strokes please?”

Salma looked mischievously at me, laughed a little and said, “Six of the best or twelve strokes if you let me cane you after you cane me.”

This was a bit of a surprise, but I rather welcomed it. It was an opportunity to show Salma that I could take it as well as give it, so I agreed, saying, “Twelve strokes each! Who goes first, please?”

Salma said, “You can cane me first. I have been fantasising that if I cane you afterwards, it may be a huge turn-on for me!”

So we had a session. I gave Salma twelve good stingers with the light cane. This resulted in yelling and frantic rubbing after the first six. I did not mind that. Salma recovered quickly and gave me twelve with the medium cane. I am of a bigger build than Salma.

It hurt like all hell. I gasped a few times and yelled a bit during the last three or four, but stayed in position until the end. It was my first caning in a year and I enjoyed it so much despite the pain!

Salma rushed into the bathroom and sat on the loo. “I need a pee so bad,” she said.

The wicked girl, before she started peeing, made a ‘V’ with her fingers and played with herself to the point of orgasm. Once her orgasm started, she began peeing. The pee came out of her in spurts in time with the orgasmic contractions!

Salma said, ” It feels so good sitting on the loo with a freshly caned bum, having an orgasm and peeing together. It is an incredible feeling. While you were caning me, I had to hold on to my pee and I was nearly bursting. My arousal when I caned you helped bring the orgasm along so quickly.”

This was a stunning revelation, way beyond my experience or imagination. That my little sister was capable of such lascivious thoughts and actions was new to me! It is natural when you think about it. There is no need for shame. I could not get angry with her; she was so innocent about it. The tip from Salma about a girl peeing right after a caning was worth remembering. It had been beyond my imagination.

Squatting on the bidet, I dealt with my usual post-caning drip and pleasured myself. Salma got up off the loo and was waiting for her opportunity to use the bidet, which I thought she deserved.

We soon dried and went to my bedroom, where first I applied Aloe Vera cream to Salma’s bottom, and then she did the same to me. I needed to get some sleep and hoped I would not be too sore the next day for my trip to the Wadi.

The next day, Jasmine arrived on time and off we went. I was wearing a fairly loose-fitting pair of slacks and an enormous sun hat with a short-cut robe on top. You do not want a long one to dangle in the water.

The ride down the blacktop was fine, but we were going to be off-road for about twenty kilometres down a bumpy track. I winced a bit as the jolts played up with my cane marks.

Jasmine looked at me and said, “Are you OK?”

I replied, “Yes, I pulled a muscle whilst out running. It’s just bad luck.”

We made it to the rock ledge above the wadi and scrambled down a goat track. That was OK. We got into the wadi and Jasmine went to work looking in the water, picking up specimens with which I helped her. There was not a breath of wind in the wadi and it was very hot. After about an hour, Jasmine pronounced herself satisfied.

We went back to the city via a local village, which had taken advantage of the improved economy by opening a cafe with the usual ‘ladies only’ area upstairs. We went in for an iced coffee. Once upstairs, I wanted to talk to Jasmine without listeners.

Salma’s progress at school interested me and I got the conversation around to it.

Jasmine looked at me and said, “She has been doing incredibly well for the last six months. She was always quite good at her work. There has been quite a change in her behaviour. She seems a lot more settled, content and confident, although I sometimes see a faraway look in her eyes.

“Some of the staff wonder what it is, but there doesn’t seem to be a sign of a boyfriend or anything we can identify. It does not matter; she will certainly make it to a good university. She does not have long to go now. This is a critical time to get ready for the big exams. It is good that right now she is in good academic form.

So I looked around. We were alone up there; we were in before the numbers built up in the late afternoon. I said to Jasmine, “Do you ever get to see the girls after sports when they take a shower?”

Jasmine replied, “Well, yes, I assist with badminton and netball.”

Then I said, “Have you ever noticed anything?”

“What sort of thing?” asked Jasmine. I wondered if she was a little slow (I did not believe she could be ‘slow’) or slightly embarrassed. She had not coloured up at all.

“Well, to put it bluntly, have you ever seen anything that concerned you or appeared unusual?”

Jasmine looked at me and replied, “I hope you do not mind me telling you, but we have seen cane marks on her bottom a few times. This is more often than we used to, and perhaps more than most of the other girls.

“It’s not so unusual in our culture in the better families to see the girls over sixteen get caned. It does not bother us and Salma’s marks are of the usual moderate variety, so it does not look like coercion or torture.

“I do not think any of the staff think it out of the ordinary and I didn’t think about it until you hinted at it. I did not connect the cane marks with her improved general performance. Do you think it’s got anything to do with it?”

I looked Jasmine in the eye and said, “Can you keep a secret?” I knew she came from a very good and well-connected family who were always discreet.

Jasmine replied, “Of course, I can and will do so, whatever.”

Carrying on, I said, “There’s no one here. Let’s go to the ladies.”

In the ladies’ room, I...