Monday, 18 April 2011

Dressed for punishment -part 2

As Amy sat at her desk in nervous expectation, re-keying data and awaiting Tom's call, Tom sat at his desk in total bewilderment, what to do now? He had never even expected the young clerk to even come in to work this morning, less so to come in wearing the ridiculous clothes that he had provided for her. There were odd little things in her behaviour that had also caught him unawares. The way she now called him Sir all the time, the way that she put her hands on her head so compliantly and unquestioning. It was almost as if she too was living out her own fantasy. Or was Tom reading too much into the situation, was it all just so much wishful thinking upon his part? He was now on the horns of a dilemma, what was the girl expecting to happen next, and how far to take things with her? To pass up on this opportunity to spank Amy, and to just let her off with her pointless keying would be one option, an option that Tom knew to be the most sensible one to take from the legal point of view, but it still struck Tom that Amy was in fact expecting, perhaps even craving corporal punishment of some sort. If indeed she was expecting a spanking, was she expecting it to be over her leggings, or with her leggings down or even removed for that matter?

The road to an industrial tribunal for sexual harassment seemed to be already well trod upon, so would he by suggesting a bare bottom punishment make matters that much worse?

Tom looked at his watch then realised that he had spent almost two hours thinking over his predicament. It was no good, it was now time to take the bull by the horns. He strode purposefully from his office to the outer office and said to Amy, "Would you like a coffee or tea?"

"Er, tea please, sir, a little milk no sugar." Replied Amy, taken by surprise by Tom's question. She was expecting something much more ominous.

"Do you want to pop out for a smoke, Amy?" Tom asked, feeling foolish at his impotence, for he had got this far and then fallen at the last hurdle.

"Er... no..., Sir I'd rather not today." Amy said, blushing and indicating with a wave her current dress and forcing out a smile. "I'd much rather not."

"Well you could sneak off to the ladies, there are no smoke sensors in there, I promise I won't tell if you don't." Tom said in a conspiratorial tone. "It will be like being at school again!"

To a certain extent it was to Amy like being at school again, as she drew deeply on her cigarette. This was being at the school of her hidden fantasies, the school where bad behaviour was treated with a very sore bare bottom. The school where, well for today anyway, Tom was the headmaster, the headmaster that was keeping in wait for her well earned, well yearned for punishment. She took her last draw upon her cigarette and threw it into the toilet. "I wonder how long he will keep me waiting?" She said to herself as she flushed the bowl.

Back in his office Tom had now decided upon his course of action, at eleven o'clock he would call her in here, he looked again at the clock on his desk, forty five minutes to go. At eleven fifteen Tom picked up his phone and rang Amy's extension. "Miss Mathews, can you pop in now please?"

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Was the reply he heard in his receiver.

Amy knocked on Tom's door before entering. Politeness? Or another bit of fantasy play? Neither party really new for sure.

"Before we go any further, I was wondering what you took severe chastisement to be, Miss Mathews?" Tom asked the small brunette in front of his desk.

"Well..." Spankings! Canes! Paddles and leather tawses Amy thought to herself but replied. "I don't really know, Sir, I suppose whatever you feel fit. After all I did make a huge mistake." Amy said her eyes now looking down at the diamond pattern blue carpet.

"Well anything less than..." Tom said, then cleared his throat with a nervous cough. "a really harsh spanking would be letting you off lightly, don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir." Amy replied glumly, still avoiding any eye contact with her soon to be chastiser.

"Also, I wonder do you think that you deserve the benefit of having your bottom covered?" Tom asked, biting the bullet of possible future litigation.

"No, Sir I don't deserve any protection against your hand." Amy whispered almost inaudibly.

"I'm sorry what was that, Amy?" Tom asked not really believing his ears.

"I.. said that I don.. don't deserve any protection from your hand, Sir." Amy repeated, her voice almost breaking.

"Come around here please." Tom said, pointing to the side of his chair.

Slowly, very slowly, Amy made her way to Tom's side her knees feeling like jelly. Tom swivelled his chair around to face her.

"Your foot please, Amy," Tom said to the shaking girl. "either one first."

"Wha.. what?" Amy asked, total confusion on her face.

"Well I can't take off your leggings while you are still wearing your trainers. can I now?"

Amy lifted first her left, then her right foot up onto Tom's lap, knowing all too well that soon she would be going half naked across that same trousered thigh. Tom made short work of removing her trainers, quickly undoing the single bow knots and pulling the shoes clear of her small pop sock clad feet. Amy stood, her arms and hands flapping nervously by her side as she stared up at the tiled ceiling, not really knowing what to do with her hands, waiting for what she knew would be coming next. She felt Tom's hands reach round, one hand on each bottom cheek, he then pulled her towards him.

"Sorry sir!" Amy said as she stumbled slightly.

Then she felt his fingers go to the elasticated waistband of her leggings, she gasped then held her breath.

With his eyes level with Amy's tummy, Tom started to slowly pull the sheen tights down over her hips. Tom swallowed hard as the dark triangle of Amy's pubic bush came into view. He continued lowering her tights till they reached her ankles, unbidden she lifted first her right foot, then the left, so that Tom could pull the garment clear of her legs. There she was now standing in front of him, naked from the waist down, apart from her short white pop socks, feeling exposed and foolish. Then Tom moved to pull her over his knee, his chair moving under him as he reached out to her waist.

"This is no good, Amy," he said. "this chair is not really stable. Pop out to the reception desk and get me one of the wooden chairs."

Amy quickly padded out of the room, with Tom watching the fluid movement of her pale cheeks, each step causing a gentle ripple in her light pink flesh.

Reaching the reception, she darted out and grabbed a chair, rushing back before anyone could see her state of undress through the outer glass door. When she got back to Tom's office, he was standing in front of his desk, she held the chair out in front of her glad of the shielding effect of it's backrest. No matter how briefly it was going to be hiding her already seen pussy. Without having to be told, Amy placed the chair down by Tom's side, her hands dropping to replace the the job that was being done by the backrest. Tom sat, then pointed in silence at his lap. Amy, without any argument draped herself over his lap, steadying herself with her hands on the floor in front of her and waited. She didn't have to wait long, but it seemed like a lifetime, Tom's right hand came down upon her right cheek with a resounding slap. The noise of impact to her ears seemed to echo throughout the room, then it was followed by another, this time to her left cheek. Then Tom built up a steady alternating rhythm, moving his hand from one cheek to the other. Though each slap caught Amy's breath, it wasn't that bad, it was bearable almost pleasant in a way. Often she had thought about self spanking just to see how it felt, twice she had tried, but could never get the force just right. Each time, she found herself pulling out of the required force to make it feel like a real punishment, but like Goldilocks she found Tom's hand to be "just right".

Well anyway she did at first, until Tom started to build up speed, and stopped alternating cheeks. Instead now the spanks were raining down in flurries, little salvos upon one cheek at a time. Amy found herself now squirming on Tom's lap as the heat built up in her bottom, causing Tom more than a little discomfort as the constant movement of Amy's naked lower body across his groin was having the obvious effect upon him. So much so, that Tom felt that he could be in danger of premature orgasm, with the combined effects of her movement, and the feel of her soft springy bottom on his palm. To alleviate this danger, Tom changed his and Amy's position, with a little bit of wrestling he managed to hook his right leg over the back of Amy's legs, locking her into a more steady position scissored between his left thigh, and his right hamstring. In this more steady position, he felt that he could increase again the rapidity of his spanking, ignoring Amy's squeaks and screams. Ignoring the office door opening. Not noticing the figure of his sister Joan until he heard her voice above the sound of his busy palm, and Amy's fruitless pleading.

"What the hell is happening in here," Joan shouted. "how long has this been going on for?"

Wednesday, 13 April 2011

Dressed for punishment!

Inspired by seeing a girls unusual choice of office wear on my way to work last summer.


Amy woke up again, and looked at her bedside clock, 5.59, she moaned, and leant over to flick the alarm switch onto disarm. The night had been a fitful sleep, the heat in her flat making sleep hard, even naked she couldn't settle. It was one of those nights too cold to sleep on top of the bedclothes, and too hot beneath them. Then of course there was the other thing, the other thing that had been playing on her mind since yesterday lunchtime, she swallowed hard, her eyes closed, as she thought of was about to happen today. It was no good worrying about what was to come, she just had to get up, and get on with it. Whatever the day was to bring was all of her own making. After a very quick shower, she found herself with time on her hands. It was way too early to make her way into Newcastle. The idea of missing the rush hour appealed, but what would be the point, the office wouldn't be open, so anything she saved herself by travelling on an empty Metro would be wasted by having to stand in the square waiting for the office block opening.

Getting a taxi crossed her mind, but that would be more expense, and depending on today's outcome, an expense she could ill afford. Breakfast she thought, but her stomach was turning, and she dare not risk it. She could always look on that website again, but that would be like self torture now, now that a mild fantasy was about to become a stark reality.

A coffee, and a ciggy, she could stomach that. Just.

After putting it off for an hour, she opened her parcel that her boss had given her, and read the note.



Dear Amy.

Please find enclosed your clothing for today. This is to find out if you can actually follow any instructions given to you. If you choose not to wear these garments, I will take it that you are handing in your notice, and any monies owed will be forwarded to you. Remember this is all your idea, so don't complain about today's outcome.

You will notice there is no underwear in this package,t hat is because you are not to wear any today. (I will be able to tell) I have enclosed a brolly should there be rain, no coat to be worn, only wear the clothes enclosed, and whatever shoes you think best suite for today, I would recommend trainers.



Amy looked inside the package, and sighed. Black leggings, and a thin white cotton t-shirt, bearing the legend "Little Miss Naughty". What could she do but put them on. The t-shirt was too tight, it fitted, but left too little to the imagination, and only just covered her navel, but what could she do? The leggings seemed very thin, almost like dancers footless tights, but what could she do? Looking at the bathroom mirror she felt silly, dressed for aerobics, not for work, but again what could she do? Leaving the brolly, as the day was set for another sunny one, she picked up her handbag, and left her flat. Entering the lift, she looked at herself in the full mirror that took up all of the back wall on the small lift. She looked at herself, and bit back the tears. The extra harsh lighting inside the elevator made her see now how she really looked. The leggings under this light were transparent, her charms open to see to whoever chose to look. Staring at herself in the mirror, she reflected on the events that brought her here. There was really no doubt they were all of her own making.

On Monday morning, at work at Mowbray Advertising, she was running off some work on the printer when it stopped working. The printer was in the IT office, the door clearly marked, No Food Or Drink Allowed In This Office, she ignored the sign, after all she would only be in for a couple of minutes max. Placing her can of coke on the new server, she tried to see what the problem was with the printer. Everything seemed OK, perhaps there was a lead loose. Going down on her hands and knees she checked that all the leads were plugged in correctly. Then it happened. A large spider ran across her hand, she jumped up in horror and stepped back quickly, her elbow catching her can, sending the black sugar laden liquid into the server. She stood dumbfounded, the server had only been put in last week, and she watched as the flashing lights seemed to die in front of her eyes. "Shit!" She cried out. Not knowing what to do, she made her way to Tom Mowbray's office, the main partner in the brother and sister business. Knocking on the door and entering Amy stumbled out the explanation of what had happened to her forty six year old boss. Tom sat behind his desk and shook his head, then raised both hands to his head to massage his balding temples.

Finally he spoke. "I'm sorry, Amy, I'm going to have to ring Joan and tell her what has happened. She is going to want your head for this, she is always telling you all about the IT office. She will want you sacked, even if it's just to make an example of you. Not to mention the cost of having the server repaired, and then the data being put back into it. Again."

Amy knew that Tom was right, Tom's sister Joan may be the junior partner, but she was a right tartar, and a stickler for rules, unlike her easygoing elder brother. Then it came to Amy, a flash of desperation, a straw to clutch at. "Mr Mowbray," she said meekly. "could you not punish me yourself, in some other way?"

The two of them looked at each other, eye to eye, each waiting for the other to blink. The idea though, was not as mad as it would seem, two months earlier Sue, one of the other girls at the office announced- "Tom's kinky!" to everyone in the outside ciggy shelter. Apparently Sue had been using Tom's PC, and he had either forgot, or couldn't be bothered, to clear his browsing history. "He keeps going on a site called Spankingtube, in work time as well!" Sue said beaming. "I don't know what it is, but it has to be a bit kinky with a name like that."

Everyone started laughing, everyone that is except Amy. Amy could feel her face start to redden, Sue had unwittingly hit a nerve with Amy. Since her early teens, Amy had been fascinated, and turned on by the idea of spankings, and now it looks like her boss has similar tastes. Or of course Sue could just be making it up? That night when Amy got back to her flat, she rushed straight on to her laptop, to see if this site even existed. Indeed it did, her eyes were opened that night. So many of her dark fantasies being lived out in front of her eyes. Most were short clips, a minute or less, some though were real cohesive mini stories running into ten minutes to quarter of an hour. She was hooked, no more soaps for her now, her early evenings were now spent watching naughty girls getting there bottoms warmed.



It is one thing though to have a fantasy, quite another to live it out for real. Finally she blinked and looked away from Tom, her eyes falling to the floor. She sniffed back a tear, it had been worth a try, then Tom spoke again.

"Amy, have you told anyone about your little mishap with the pop?"

Amy shook her head, a lone tear tracking down her left cheek.

"Well don't then, I'll try to work something out. I have to warn you though, you are looking at a severe chastisement."

The elevator door opened, snapping her back to the present, as she walked along the corridor she dreaded the coming journey. "Severe chastisement?" She thought to herself, she had seen plenty of them, if only on the screen of her laptop. "Laptop?" Is that how he was going to spank her? Bent across his lap like a naughty girl, like the naughty girl that her t-shirt proclaimed her to be? She could feel her face burning up again at the thought of it. Then she felt her stomach start to churn, as she walked out onto the street. What if he decided not to spank her over his knee? What if he just cleared his desk, and made her lie back on it, and spanked her in what the Americans called the diaper position? In these tights her sex would be clearly visible, in the right light even her pubic thatch could be made out. She stifled back a sob at the thought of it. Perhaps he wouldn't spank over her tights!

Maybe he would reach under her bottom, and ask her to lift up her hips, so he could slowly peel down her tights. Then she would be really on display, nothing hidden in that position, he would be staring straight down at her open sex. Looking at her traitorous pussy, damp and glistening, giving away her true feelings. She felt a wave of nausea cross her, but also she could feel the rough cotton rubbing against her erect nipples. She tried to walk quicker, to shorten her time in the bright sunlight, hoping for the sanctuary of the dark underground station. The faster she walked though, the more her nipples rubbed. The more her nipples rubbed, the more she was aware of their erect firmness, and the more aware she was, the firmer they became. It was a self-perpetuating vicious circle. Finally, she made it into the station, and down the steps. She took up at the end of the platform, and waited, praying that the train would not be full. Her prayers weren't answered, the train pulled in, and was standing room only. She got on, making sure she was last on, so that she could stand by the door for the short one stop journey. Now she had the dilemma of how to stand, or rather what to show to her fellow commuters. It was a simple choice, face the door and flash her arse, back to the door and flash a camel toe, and also her now hat peg nipples. She chose to let her fellow passengers see the delightful roundness of her bottom.

Then the train burst out of the darkness to cross the river Tyne, the bright morning sunlight flooded the carriage from the eastern side, making it clear to anyone who chose to look that she was indeed pantyless under those sheer tights. No sooner had the train been in the sun, than it returned to another underground burrow. To Amy though, that half minute had been age. An age of utter embarrassment. The train pulled into the station underneath Central Station, and she leapt from the carriage as quick as she could. Then hung back, letting the bulk of the commuters go on ahead, knowing only too well what awaited her around the corner. She swallowed hard, the escalator had never before looked that long, that steep, or that well lit.







As Amy contemplated the escalator, Tom Mowbray looked out of his office window sipping his coffee as he watched the activity in the small square below. He knew of course that Amy wouldn't come in to work today. If it had been one of the other girls, Sue perhaps, they may have brassed it out and come in. Not Amy though, the shy little brunette would be in tears at just having to walk through the city centre in the clothes that he had given her. Still it had been a bit of a lark, with Joan on holiday he could get away with his little joke, never having any real intention of sacking the silly girl. The server hadn't been badly damaged anyway, only the on/off switch burnt out, all the data was still there. Still though it didn't stop Tom putting a load of stuff onto an external hard drive, and then deleting it off the server. Just on the off chance of Amy actually coming in to the office, it would be like lines at school, a purely pointless exercise, he reasoned with himself. Also having the offices to themselves was no problem, as he and Joan had decided weeks earlier to have the office closed today so the the staff could watch England play in the world cup. Of course England getting knocked out by Germany put a bit of a damper on that idea, but Tom decided to declare it a holiday anyway to thank all of the staff for being so hard working through the computer change over. Also, just in case, he had put one of his Newcastle United slippers in his briefcase, because you never really know for sure. He had toyed with the idea of sending her over the road to one of the two sex shops to buy a paddle, or even sending her along Railway Street. The idea of her bobbing in and out of the timber merchants along there in search of a cane, dressed in those clothes amused him greatly. Of course though it was all just fantasy, "Ah she'll never turn up!" he said to himself, just before he saw the small figure in the black sheen tights, walk through the tunnel into the square.



For Amy the short walk from the Central Station had been a nightmare, once she had got out of the station, she found an area darkened by the shadows of the Victorian arches. She managed another quick ciggy there, the idea of trying to go to Starbucks, as was her norm in the morning, made her feel physically sick. The idea of having to walk past all the usual suspects who would no doubt be sitting outside, she just couldn't stomach, even though she didn't know any of them, they were all used to seeing her, but never dressed like this.

Of course though at some point she would have to leave the shadowy comfort of the station, and face the effects of the bright sunlight upon her leggings. She had decided that to walk as quickly as possible, would be the way to get the embarrassing trip over with the soonest. So off she strode, up towards the suntrap of Times Square. Just before she reached the square, she caught a glance of two girls and a guy that she half recognised as working in the same office block as herself, crossing the road to her right. If the effect that her mode of dress, and the glances it was acquiring was not bad enough, what she heard next brought dampness to her eyes. "Hey look!" Amy heard one female voice from behind her say. "Oh my god! It's enough to put me off my sausage bun!" Another female voice said. "What must she think she looks like, and it looks like she's commando!". Amy forced herself to walk faster, to get out of earshot dreading overhearing any comments from the male of the trio. Finally she reached the refuge of the tunnel leading to her workplace, now it was just a quick fifty yards or so to the office entrance. Fifty yards till she would have to face the nameless old security guards leering stare, he was bad enough on a normal morning, but dressed like this! Amy's supposition was not unfounded, as she walked through the glass doors to the shared foyer the guards eyes seemed to be out on on stalks as he watched her walk in, and then followed her as she made her way up the stairs to the first floor. Half of Amy hated his lecherous looks, but to her surprise another part of her loved the extra attention that her new office wear was garnering her. Upon reaching the seemingly empty offices of Mowbray Advertising, Amy knew that at least one office would not be empty, that of Tom Mowbray's. Heart in her mouth Amy knocked upon his door. Equally as nervous though trying to hide it, Tom said overly loudly. "Come in!"

Meekly, Amy entered the lions den.

"Thank you for coming in on such a glorious day, Amy." Tom said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "It would seem that I guessed your size perfectly, but we really should have a little uniform inspection. Don't you think?"

Amy stood in silence, though in her heart she knew only too well what instruction was coming next.

"Hands on top of your head please, Amy."

Dreamily, with shaking hands, she complied with his instruction, knitting her fingers together on top of her head, and standing up straight and proud waiting for his uniform inspection.

Tom Came out from behind his desk and approached Amy. "I will have to have a word with old George downstairs, and ask him to turn down the air conditioning, you seem to be a little cold," Tom said as his finger trailed over Amy's hard erect left nipple.



Amy felt her face burning up at both his observation, and his delicate touch.

"I'm very pleased to see that you followed my no underwear instruction, these leggings leave so little to the imagination, don't you find?"

Again Tom's question was met by silence, Amy merely swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

Walking behind Amy, Tom could feel his heart drumming in his chest as he looked at her sheen covered, rounded buttocks, he couldn't not give them a little pat to test out the feminine softness of those beautiful orbs. They were so soft, but with a toned firmness giving a clear delineation between the buttocks and the tops of her thighs. "Beautiful," he whispered to himself, but loud enough to catch Amy's ears. "Amy at some point today, it maybe this afternoon," Tom said regaining his composure, "or it may be this morning, I will call you in here for your well earned punishment."

Amy nodded, again gulping in fear or perhaps anticipation.

"Until then, I would like you to input the files that your little accident caused us to lose, I'll call you later." Tom then gave Amy's bottom the lightest of slaps to send her upon her way.

Amy sat, keying in on her computer, waiting for Tom's call. Waiting for Tom's punishing hand. Waiting there in her office dressed for punishment.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

Duende!

Inspired by Jason Webster's novel of the same name.


Duende, if you look the word up in an English/Spanish dictionary, depending on the size of the dictionary, it will most likely read, fairy or wood-nymph. This is only half the story, it also means spirit or soul as you would read in the larger books or online dictionaries. In Flamenco terms it means much much more, it is a state of mind when the performer/performers and the audience reach a plane of understanding with each other. It transcends the normal emotions felt at a musical performance, it is when everything clicks together, where everyone is drawn into the emotiveness of the performance. It is a word that is hard to articulate to anyone that has never felt it. As a performer though it is what you always aspire to, to draw all in the room into your world of pain or joy. An example, though probably apocryphal, the singer Camaron de la Isla when asked to sing something by way of an audition for a night club, merely counted out numbers, but such was the wracking pain in his voice he was hired. That is Duende! It is something that must be felt by the performer, before it can be felt by the audience, no amount of technical knowledge or practice can make it happen, it must be wrenched from deep within you. You must be willing to lay your soul bare, to live the song or the dance without inhibition, to draw your audience and fellow performers along with you. So that brings me to why I'm sitting in the main hall of El Ecole De Baile Tradicional in Granada with my guitar on my knee. Sitting waiting. For the third time this week, waiting! First though, before I go any further, I'd better tell you why I'm even in Granada. I had more than a little luck on the National Lottery, which enabled me to take a year from work, and follow in the footsteps of Jason Webster's novel. That was three years ago, and I'm still in Spain trying to learn Flamenco guitar. Having made friends with some gypsy musicians, and playing the odd tableau with them, I fell into this role a human metronome for their cousin Erendira Dominguez the proprietor of the dance school. It was not a role that inspired me to be honest, but it is very hard to say no to Erendira.

She made it plain from the outset that I was there only to play the rhythm for her dancers to follow, no frills. My job was to hammer out the three beats to the bar chord pattern, no more no less. I had to supply the platform from which the dancers could fly from. That was the idea anyway. Today though, I just sat waiting for Erendira's star protege Eva. Eva was of middle class upbringing, what her family would have made of Erendira's gitano cousins I wouldn't like to guess. If asked, Erendira always admitted to her gypsy background, but for business purposes it was not something that she openly advertised. Gitano's are still more or less looked down upon, and distrusted in Spain, as in most other European countries. So for all her pride in her family and her background it was something that she tended to keep quite about, more so with the parents like that of Eva's than with her students. She also had problems with Eva's parents and their almost unerring confidence in their daughters ability, because they paid well, but also because Eva was indeed well blessed with technical ability. That however was as far as it went, for although you could watch, and enjoy Eva's dancing, there was something lacking. Eva always seemed to be holding something back.

Yes the moves were all there but she lacked something, her mind and body were in it, but her soul was lacking. Also like her parents, Eva had an over confidence in her ability, as far as she was concerned she was already the finished article, and as such looked upon her extra one to one lessons as an impingement on her valuable leisure time. So as was becoming the norm with these lessons, Eva swanned in a quarter of an hour late, and dressed for a night club, even though it was two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. When I say she swanned in that is exactly how she moves for all her lack of height, she carries herself the same way as Madonna giving the impression of a tallness that isn't there. Also she gives of an aura of self confidence bordering on arrogance, it was only a matter of time till she and Erendira clashed.

"Hey girl, what time do call this?" Erendira demanded of her student.

"It's no problem, I'm here now, I'll just get changed." Eva replied in her usual couldn't give a toss manner, then added. "It's no big deal, you get paid anyway, even if I don't turn up at all!"

At that final comment as she left for the changing rooms, I noticed a thundercloud pass across Erendira's face, and felt there and then that today was going to be a long afternoon. As we waited for Eva getting changed, I busied myself by pretending to be checking my guitars tuning, as Erendira stalked about the room. Eva eventually emerged dressed in a frill-less black practice skirt, and a plain white t-shirt plus the standard Flamenco plain black shoes.

"At last!" Erendira said, with more than a little impatience in her voice. "We will start with a Sevillanas to warm up with!"

I started to play out the fast happy compras to the folk dance, and Eva... Well Eva sort of danced, it was in the same manner of a ballerina on a music box, it looked like a dance fair enough, but it also looked clockwork. So I played a little louder in the hope of stirring her, but her mind was obviously elsewhere, it was certainly not with us in the room.

Just before the third pattern of the dance, Erendira called us both to a halt. "What was that? It wasn't anything that I could recognise!" Shouted Erendira.

That was it, Latin blood was boiling. As both teacher and pupil got into a heated argument, both screaming at each other in Spanish, their southern accents and clipped words flying out too rapidly for me to translate in my head. I sat there as an embarrassed, bewildered bystander, until Erendira uttered a phrase that I knew off by heart, but hadn't had a chance to use in all my time in Spain.

"Te pegare en el trasero!" (I'll smack your ass!) My eyebrows raised at this phrase, they now both had my full attention, as they stared wide eyed at each other.

"You would not dare gypsy girl!" Sneered Eva.

Erendira breathed deeply at this latest showing of lack of respect by Eva, her now cold glare too much for Eva to hold, as she looked to the floor, and in so doing giving Erendira the upper hand.

"Get changed, go home and don't ever come back to this school again," said Erendira, "or go across my knee and I will hammer some manners into you. The choice is yours!"

To my surprise, and I must admit also to my amusement, Eva instead of flouncing off to the changing room she said. "Please... I am sorry. I want to stay."

Faced by a now repentant pupil, Erendira merely went to the side of the small dance floor and picked up a plastic chair, brought it back to the middle of the floor and sat down.

Erendira motioned to her lap by way of invitation for Eva, slowly the nineteen year old made her way towards Erendira, then draped herself across Erendira's lap. From my viewpoint directly behind, Eva's ample bottom seemed to swell out under her practise skirt as she got into position for her upcoming chastisement, it was all so surreal in this the most surreal of countries.

As I stared on in disbelief, Erendira reached down to the hem of Eva's skirt and started to pull it clear of her olive tanned legs, then over her bottom revealing a tiny pair of bright red panties.

"Ah good!" Erendira said. "I'll stop when your bottom is the colour of your panties, red a good colour for an aspiring Flamenca!"

To my amazement Eva did not even whisper a word of complaint, she just lay there waiting for Erendira to start. She did not have to wait for long. Erendira's hand came down onto Eva's bottom in a harsh flurry of smacks. Do not underestimate how hard an enraged Flamenca can spank, all those hours of clapping out rhythms make for good spanking practice!

In no time at all Eva was squirming and squealing in the pain that Erendira's hands were providing. Not that that made a blind bit of difference to Erendira, all she was interested in was the colour of Eva's cheeks, and matching those cheeks to those panties. Now in my role as a human metronome it was quite normal for me to see flashes of the students underwear as they danced, that is the nature of Flamenco. However to see a prolonged display such as this, well that is to say the least, very unusual, so I was glad of the guitar on my lap shielding my groin and the now full erection that I had at this most unexpected of tableau's.

After what seemed an age to me, and I imagine what seemed like a lifetime to Eva, Erendira started to slow down her onslaught upon Eva's buttocks.

"A few more I think, then we should have the right colour!" Erendira said to no one in particular.

"Si.. si... profesora!" Eva managed to say, almost sobbing now at the heat in her bottom.

Finally Erendira was happy with the colour of Eva's bottom, and she helped the tearful girl back to her feet. "I think that is today's lesson well learnt, don't you?" She asked Eva.

"No... I want to dance, I want to prove to you that I do care... please let me dance for you now." Eva said between sniffs, wiping at her eyes.

"OK." Erendira replied, the request taking her by surprise.

"Tomas, an Alegrias!" Eva shouted over to me, then added. "Please."

I started playing, and Eva started dancing. Then Eva started improvising steps, I followed her guide, the two of us were locked in the same groove. It was as if I had a telepathic link with Eva, and her with me, my remit of only hammering out the beat went by the wayside as I to started to improvise my way through Eva's dance. I glanced at Erendira, the slight smile on her face as she watched transfixed by her star pupil's dancing.

All three of us together, all three of us in one spirit, that is Duende!

Friday, 8 April 2011

Consigned to Bedlam,part 7

It was now ten days since Veronica's first "treatment" session, she had been due her second session five days after the first one, but was spared through "medical grounds", as nurse Corrigan delicately put it. Now though the day was with her, and all morning she had been dreading the call to the Treatment Room.

Veronica had never felt so alone as she did this morning, Jonathan her friend and confident had as he had predicted been released into the care of his parents. So now Veronica had no one other than the Irish nurse that she could talk to.
Nurse Corrigan was real a mystery to Veronica, she seemed to hold her job and the other staff members with a degree of disdain. It wasn't so much what she said, but the way that she said it that led Veronica to believe that the nurse Corrigan's heart was not really in this job. The other members of the nursing and for that matter the domestic staff, seemed to enjoy the powers that they held over the inmates. Nurse Corrigan though seemed more interested in just making sure that the place ran smoothly, though no one should be fooled into taking this as any sign of weakness. The strap that she wore from her belt was not there for decorational purposes, but she did use it sparingly, and did not seem to garner any enjoyment from it's usage. Unlike many of the other staff members, who seemed to relish in the role of disciplinarians, though not being punished herself Veronica had witnessed other inmates tasting the belt on their bottoms. As all summary punishments were doled out there and then, with no sensitivity for the inmates privacy, Veronica had noticed that the three other girls she had seen receiving the strap were like herself locked in chastity belts.

After Jonathan had left, nurse Corrigan had noticed how quiet and withdrawn Veronica had become, so she took it upon herself to engage Veronica in conversation whenever she could. She also introduced Veronica to the small and little used library provided for the inmates. For the first time in her life, Veronica started to read properly, to read for the pure enjoyment and escapism from her current surroundings. At the moment she was reading Jane Eyre, the book haunted her, it seemed to be seeping in allusions to corporal punishment and the poor girl was drifting from one crisis to the next. Veronica drew many parallels with herself, similarities that only two weeks ago she would have thought to be laughable. For all the reading though, Veronica could not help but notice how much she missed young Mr. Carter. She missed his ready wit, and the way he always managed to find the silver lining no matter how stormy the sky. She also missed his cheeky demeanour, and his openness about all things. After her first session that morning in the treatment room, Jonathan was in for his first session in the afternoon, that evening as they had dinner together Jonathan spoke of his treatment session.
"I imagine we both got similar treatment, well as similar as it can be under our differing circumstances." Jonathan said, a wicked grin on his face. " I was stripped from the waist down and made to sit up on a stirrup bench, once the dammed belt came off my little soldier stood straight to attention like a Coldstream Guard."
As Jonathan laughed at his little joke, Veronica could feel her face redden as it always did with Jonathan's flirtatious banter.
"Tell you what though, I don't know about how it went for you, but that miss Brompton certainly knows how to get a chap to the edge without letting him fall over! After nearly an hour she had my balls aching with all her stop starts."
Now rather than being embarrassed, Veronica was downright confused by Jonathan's ramblings.
"But when she caned me I finally managed to spend much to her disgust, and annoyance!" Jonathan said giggling to himself.
Veronica felt her heart go into her mouth at the mention of the cane. She knew the cane was sometimes used at home for the discipline of staff, and she also knew how the maids used to dread that above all other sanctions. What perturbed but also encouraged her, was the way that Jonathan seemed to have relished his treatment session, it made her odd thoughts seem that little bit more normal. "Surely it was terrible being caned?" She asked.
"Well the way I see it is, if you have to be caned it is best from a pretty woman!" Jonathan answered, and then continued. "At school it was always from the masters, so not quite the same, and of course her pre-caning was exquisite you can tell she really enjoys her job."
Remembering her own time in the treatment room with Miss Brompton, Veronica could not help but nod, then blushed yet again on the realisation of her involuntary movement of agreement. That though was all nearly a fortnight ago, and now she faced her new session with no one to confide in. Sitting waiting on nurse Corrigan's arrival, Veronica reflected on her strange dreams. She and Jonathan both at university together, did this even happen, young ladies and gentleman going to the same classes? Their teacher was Miss Brompton, which of course could only happen in a dream scape, a woman teaching at university, even more so one so young. In all her dreams Miss Brompton was a strict disciplinarian, sometimes it would be Veronica on the wrong side of her other times it would be Jonathan. All times though the punishments were meted out on the bare bottom. All times the punishment was in front of the rest of the class. A knock at her door brought her crashing back into reality, the door opened and in walked nurse Corrigan.
"Miss Bowman, it's time for your treatment." The Irish nurse said almost apologetically. "Remember, Miss it's best not to make any fuss!"
Veronica nodded, and managed a weak smile, as she stood and followed the nurse to the "Treatment Room". Upon entering, Dr. Dewbury welcomed Veronica with a cheery good morning, while Miss Brompton looked on with her usual half smile, as nurse Corrigan started to help Veronica to disrobe and unlocked her chastity belt, then helped her up onto the chair strapping her in like the last time.
"Dr. Dewbury," Miss Brompton said. "I have been giving this young ladies predicament a great deal of thought, and have decided to try another approach. This method should either confirm, or refute, the fact that she is indeed sexually excited by corporal punishment."
Veronica felt so ashamed lying back on the seat, naked from the waist down, with her legs spread in such a lewd manner as Miss Brompton and Dr. Dewbury talked over the top of her as if she was not even in the room with them. As they talked Miss Brompton's fingers trailed idly on Veronica's naked upper thigh, Veronica closed her eyes tight and tried to think herself out of the room.
"Well I think you may as well begin now," said Dr. Dewbury. "pelvic massage to begin with?"
"Yes I believe so, I think I will bring her to the edge of completion a couple of times before applying the strap."
"The strap?" Asked the doctor. "Do you think that will be necessary for your experiment?"
"Yes that is my experiment, It will be to the hands not to the young ladies posterior. That should prove one way or another if her passion lies in the receiving of corporal punishment."
"Ah yes! Very scientific, that will rule out the strap causing the engorgement of blood to her pudenda being the trigger for her feminine hysteria, very good, Miss Brompton." Said the doctor beaming at his protege, nurse Corrigan looking on merely shook her head slowly.
Now that Veronica knew what was going to be coming her way, she couldn't get it out of her mind. Even as Miss Brompton's fingers started to work at her femininity, all Veronica could think of was that strap coming down across her hand. She remembered once talking to her two cousins, who unlike Veronica were not home schooled, they had both regaled Veronica with tales of how they were punished at school. It would seem that never a day went by without some pupil being called up to the front of the class to receive either the strap or the cane across their hands. As Miss Brompton's torturous fingers continued their teasing, Veronica's mind wandered, she was back in the college class of her recent dreams. For some misdemeanour, she didn't know what, Veronica was at the front of the class. Her fellow students all smiling, knowing what fate was about to befall her, this time it was not going to be a spanking or a caning to her naked bottom, this time it would be her hands that were to receive the pain.
Veronica felt the strange waves building up in her lower body again, bringing her back to the room, she could also hear and odd sloshing noise, then realised that noise was coming from her, coming from Miss Brompton's ministrations. Veronica bit on her lower lip in shame, but also expectation of the rush about to engulf her. Then Miss Brompton's fingers stopped, leaving her hanging on the edge of the cliff of bliss, just the gentlest of touches would be all it needed to take her over that edge. That touch never came.
Three more times in the next half hour Miss Brompton took Veronica to the edge of the precipice, and each time sensing how close she was Miss Brompton stopped just short of completion. Finally Veronica, who was now in a daze of confusion and frustration was untied from the dentist's chair.
"Miss Bowman, you will now receive six strokes of the strap across your hands, to help rid your mind of the filthy thoughts, that are now no doubt in residence." Miss Brompton announced. "Three on each hand. You will lift your hand straight out in front of you, at just under shoulder height, either hand first it matters not a jot."
Veronica, just stood there, staring blankly ahead.
"Now please, Miss Bowman!" Miss Brompton demanded.
Shaking, Veronica held her left hand out palm up, hardly daring to look at her young torturer. Miss Brompton tapped the underside of Veronica's proffered hand to get it to the correct height. Then without warning, she slashed the leather strap across the fleshiest part of Veronica's delicate palm. The initial sting of leather was harsh enough, the impact catching her by surprise and making her gasp out in pain, soon though that sting was replaced by a deep burning feeling. Veronica though, to Miss Brompton's annoyance, kept her hand in place waiting for the next blow. Already in her minds eye, transported off to her imaginary classroom. In this classroom, she was the put upon heroine bravely taking the unwarranted punishment from her cruel teacher. The next cut of the strap, almost broke her fantasy as it to fell onto almost the exact same target area of the first. Still though Veronica held firm, in her mind's eye her resolve was being watched and admired by Jonathan Carter as she waited hand held firm for the third bite of the strap. The third though was much different, Miss Brompton in her determination to break Veronica deliberately targeted not Veronica's palm, but chose instead to unleash her strap onto Veronica's fingers. The burning pain across her fingers brought Veronica hurtling back into the reality of Dr. Dewbury's treatment room. In an automatic reflex to try and squash the pain Veronica thrust her hand between her thighs.
This was an even better result than the one that Miss Brompton was hoping for. Throwing the strap onto the dentist's chair, Miss Brompton then roughly grabbed Veronica's shoulder, and proceeded to give her bare bottom a sound, harsh spanking. What a sight the two young girls made! Veronica naked from the waist down almost dancing a circular jig trying to avoid Miss Bromton's stingy palm.
"I cannot believe such licentious behaviour, here in front of us all, proof that you are a compulsive onanist!" Miss Brompton chided Veronica.
"No! Please miss, I... I... was just trying... my fingers they hurt so much!" Veronica pleaded between slaps. Once that she was satisfied that she had made her point to both Veronica, and Dr. Dewbury, Miss Brompton stopped the impromptu spanking. "Right! Stand up straight girl, and put you other hand out, we are only halfway remember!" Miss Brompton demanded, all pretence of polite deference now gone from her voice.
Veronica obeyed, after all what else could she do? Waiting with her right hand held out, time seemed to alter, seemed to slow down, almost to the point that she would swear that she could see the strap clearly tracking through the air on its journey to her hand. That impact, the first one on her right hand was enough. That impact, coupled with her warm naked bottom and Miss Brompton's earlier attention to her sex was all it took, as she was finally released into an engulfing orgasm.
Wide eyed Miss Brompton looked on as Veronica reached her sexual release. "There you have it Doctor, proof positive." Miss Brompton said, with a note of triumph in her voice. "Nurse can you help Miss Bowman get dressed please? She will be finding her fingers a little uncomfortable at the moment."
Frowning, nurse Corrigan did as requested, as Miss Brompton and Dr Dewbury talked over Veronica's predicament.
"Perhaps, Doctor we should consider more radical treatment?" Miss Brompton said almost in a whisper.
"No her mother forbade that," replied the doctor."but I would like to ask her about Miss Bowman's earlier upbringing."
Trying hard to make sense of what they were talking about, only confused Veronica even more. "I really am going mad." she thought to herself, as nurse Corrigan relocked her chastity belt.

Growing old disgracefully!

Tom looked down at the crumpled heap on his sofa, shaking his head slowly. "Black coffee called for," he said to no one in particular, as he stepped over the pool of vomit on his way to the kitchen. By the time he had made the two cups of coffee and returned to the room, the crumpled heap was awake.

"Good morning, Angela!" Tom said very loudly, and overly cheerfully.

"Is it? Doesn't seem that way from where I'm sitting." Came the reply from the now not so crumpled heap that was his forty six year old sister in law.

Pointing at the half empty bottle of tequila on the coffee table. "You have a night cap after I went to bed?"

"God don't ask," moaned Angela, "once I have a certain amount to drink, I just don't seem to no when to stop!"

"I noticed last night, you weren't exactly the most angelic of Angela's were you?"

"Please, Tom, I can hardly remember anything!" Angela replied, as she slowly sat her self upright realising that she was still in last nights clothes. "I take it I crashed out?"

Tom started to laugh. "It looks that way, I went to bed when you started reminiscing about our long lost youthful days! Mind you, you kept Julie up till almost two o'clock, that was naughty knowing that she had work this morning!"

"Sorry, but really having to work on a Saturday.. I mean.. you know?"

"What, it spoils your wild Friday night?"

Angela didn't answer, she just slowly sipped at the strong black liquid, wondering if she could hold it down. It had been years since she had had a night out on the town with her little sister. Once Angela had got married, her and her husband had moved down south to York, since their divorce she had stayed there, only coming back up to her hometown on the odd occasion. This was one of those occasions, a long weekend that she had meant to enjoy to the full, starting with last nights pub crawl. "I want to go to all the pubs that have changed their names since the last time we were out!" She had said to Julie. "We can have a lager and a shot in each one, plus the two new bars!" That had been her plan, Julie though just had a half of lager in the bars that they went into, leaving the shots to Angela. They never made it out of Front Street, the cold bracing air adding to the effects of alcohol drank too quickly saw the two sisters back home by ten thirty. By eleven fifteen, Tom had had enough of Angela's drunken ramblings and went to bed, which when she discovered his tequila. A discovery that Angela now wished had been left uncovered as her head throbbed out a remorseless dirge.

"After you've had your coffee I'll make you a nice anti hangover fry-up," Tom said still laughing at Angela's state. "and you can clean up that mess that you've left."

"What... what mess?"

Without saying anything Tom pointed at the pool of vomit on the wood flooring.

"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry!" Angela said obviously disgusted with herself. "Sometimes you know I just can't control myself, I'm really so sorry."

Tom looked at his panda eyed sister in law, and decided to have a little fun at her expense, just a laugh to fill in the morning nothing more just a bit of fun. "Yeah think back to when you were living at home," Tom said, "what would your dad have done if you had came drunk, and then threw up all over the place?"

Angela laughed, knowing what Tom was talking about, after all it was no big secret, in fact not that unusual for many in those days. "Over the arm of the couch, slipper across me arse!" Angela replied with her and Julie's stock answer to questions of this kind.

"When did you last get it?"

This question though threw Angela a little, for all she was the elder sister, Julie married and left home three years before she did. So as a married woman didn't fall under their fathers strict discipline for as long as Angela did. "I was twenty three." Angela finally said, feeling herself blushing at sharing this information. "Dad always said you are never to old for a tanning as long as you are living in my house."

This answer was like manna to Tom's ears, now he had a real chance to wind up his sister in law. "Twenty three years old and it was still jeans down over the arm of the sofa?"

Angela sighed heavily, she could do without this today. "Not quite," she replied wearily. "I don't know if you remember me getting into bother for coming home late one night and putting the grill on to do some bacon, then going to bed and forgetting about it?"

Tom nodded as he did sort of recall an incident with the fire alarm.

"The fire alarm went off as the burnt bacon started to smoke. I just slept through it, but I got an awakening the next morning alright! When I woke up dad was standing over my bed, slipper in hand, the smell of burning reminded straight away of what I had done."

Now giggling as he recalled being told of the girl's punishment rituals, Tom said, "so it was the duvet over the bottom of the wooden bed rail?"

Angela sighed again. "Yes, the duvet to make us nice and comfy so we could always concentrate on our bottoms, you know all this off by heart!"

"Yeah I know, but twenty three!" Tom said now almost in convulsions of laughter.

"I told you age made no difference to dad." Angela said, now blushing like mad.

"So it was nightie up, there and then?"

"Yes!"

"Bare bum at twenty three?" Tom said, assuming that Angela didn't wear knickers under her nightie, she said nothing to contradict that assumption.

"His house, his rules, his slipper. Can we just let this drop now, Tom?" Angela said almost pleadingly.

"Not yet." Tom said, then quickly left the room rushing upstairs.

Angela sipped at her coffee wondering what her brother-in-law was up to. She had always had a soft spot for Tom, and since her divorce both Julie and Tom had been very supportive, all this made her feel even more guilty about her antics last night. She didn't like to think about what her dad would have said about her state last night. "Angela, you are growing old disgracefully!" She imagined her late father saying. She allowed herself a little smile, as she remembered her dad, strict as he was she always knew that he loved his two daughters dearly. Yes she would have been in deep do-do this morning if he was around.

Then Tom entered the room triumphantly, clutching two carrier bags, handing her one he said. "Recognise this, I bet you do?"

Angela swallowed deeply as she saw the oh too familiar brown leather slipper. "Er... how do you.." Then she remembered, both her husband and Tom were given a little joke wedding present from her father.

Beaming down at her Tom Said. "There is something missing though isn't there?"

"Uh?"

"Well it's empty isn't it? Too light, what does it need?" Tom asked her.

Angela's eyes rolled skywards. "Socks," she said, "Dad always stuffed it full of old socks, to give it extra weight."

Tom then threw the other carrier bag down onto the sofa. "Well get stuffing, Angela, we can get this over with then I'll make breakfast."

Angela looked into the bag, already half suspecting it's contents, sure enough if it was full of sports socks. Right, this joke has gone far enough she thought to herself. "You can't expect to be giving me a slippering?"

"Why not?" Tom asked, his brow furrowed. "You just said you're never to old, and his house his rules. This is my house and my rules, so get putting them socks in that slipper."

To Angela this was all just a bad hazy morning, you know when hangovers give the whole day a sort of feeling, that you aren't actually living the day out but merely spectating from the sidelines. To her own surprise though she found herself meekly obeying, and rolling up the socks and stuffing them deep into the size eleven slipper. How many times had she felt this across her bottom, it all seemed like a different lifetime now, for a start is was last century. No Tom couldn't be serious, he was only testing her, seeing how far she would go with the joke, after all she was a middle aged woman now. Once the slipper was well stocked, weighty enough for it's not intended purpose, she silently handed it back to Tom.

"Thank you, Angela," Tom said, amazed at how easy this was going. "now if you could just bend yourself over the arm of the sofa and lift your dress we can begin."

Slowly Angela stood up, and in the same out of body daze bent herself over the arm, lifting the hem of her thin flowery dress high up over her hips.

Tom moved into position behind her, looking down he could see Angela's pale green knickers beneath her flesh coloured tights. "How many did you used to get, six wasn't it?"

"Yes, Tom, you know we did." Angela replied tersely, still not really believing the situation she was in.

"Well I think with the passing of years, we should up the ante, and make it a nice hard eight. A hard eight, does that sound OK to you?"

Angela didn't reply, only snorted at his weak innuendo.

"First though, Angela, I think we should clear the decks a little." Tom said, as his fingers went under the cloth of Angela's upturned dress searching out the waistband of her tights. "Stalagmites and stalactites, you know how I used to remember them in geography lessons? It's easy, tights always come down." Tom said chuckling to himself as pulled Angela's tights down to just below her knees.

Angela could feel her face burning as Tom disrobed her, she knew only to well though in a few moments it was going to be a different kind of heat she would be feeling.

"Now at your age, I don't think there is any real need for these either." Tom said, his fingers now at the waist band of Angela's thin underwear.

"Tom please!" Angela shouted, more in hope than expectation. The hope was dashed as she felt the thin knickers join the same downward course as her tights before them.

"You ready now?" Tom asked, but before she could reply, she felt the first harsh impact across the centre of her bottom, taking her breath away. "Cos here comes your second one!" Sure enough it did, this one though aimed at her left cheek, and laid on hard.

Angela realised that this wasn't just going to be Tom messing about, this was going to be a real old fashioned punishment! To her surprise the third whack landed on the same cheek, causing her to shout out in pain. This was so embarrassing, not so much being bent over the sofa and being stripped by her brother-in-law, that part she found a bit sexy in a kinky, hungover way. No it wasn't that that was making her embarrassed, it was the worry that at forty six she wasn't able to take a punishment that as a teen she just looked upon as a bit of an annoyance. Or did she, or was that just the way that she and Julie preferred to remember it. Then the fourth one landed, this time square across her bottom like the first.

"Been a long time, hasn't it, Angela?" Tom enquired.

"Yes!" Angela replied through gritted teeth. "It's been a long time."

"Halfway now," Tom said as he laid the fifth stroke onto her virgin right cheek. "sorry I lied, we are over the halfway mark. Only three more to go," Then the sixth landed as Tom was still speaking. "sorry two!"

Angela could feel a tear crawling slowly down her cheek, but oddly enough she felt that little bit more alive than she did only three minutes earlier, "Some hangover cure this." She said, as she studied the diagonal pattern of the sofa.

"Yeah I bet this beats bloody mary's and raw eggs," Tom said. "though from here I can see a pretty raw bottom. Real prime tenderised rump!"

"Aww, Tom, you say such the loveliest things," Angela said sarcastically. "as you beat a lady black and blue!"

"Only ladies that try and take over my house, only ladies that throw up all over my living room. How ladylike is that anyway?"

Angela didn't reply, she knew in an odd twisted way that Tom was right. Also she found the situation oddly sexy, like a scene out of one of the books that she had taken to reading lately.

"As a treat." Tom said. "for the last two, I'll let you pick where they are going to land. Left," Angela felt Tom's hand caressing her left bottom cheek, "or right," she then felt his hand upon her right cheek, "or perhaps middle?" Now she felt his fingers run down the cleft of her bottom, then drop that bit little lower. "Tut-tut, getting damp down there sis-in-law! So where is it going to be?"

Angela closed her eyes in shame, she had been caught out now by Tom in every respect, her little secret now not so secret. For months, no years she had fantasised about a situation like this, and here she was lost for words. "Middle!" She almost sobbed out, in less than fifteen seconds later she was sobbing as both whacks landed hard across her naked bottom. As she lay there over the arm of the sofa sobbing, crying more about her secret kink being uncovered than over the pain, she felt Toms' finger again running down the cleft of her bottom, this time though it didn't stop with a mere touch at the damp folds of her sex. This time the finger probed deeply.

"Been a long time hasn't it, Angela?" Tom asked the same question again this time in a different context.

"Yes, too long!" Angela gasped.

Thursday, 7 April 2011

Spare The Rod?

It all began about eight months ago, after years of being too scared to enter 'spanking' into my search engine I plucked up the courage, typed it in, and after a bit of searching found a site called Dailymotion, it was full of weird and wonderful clips with just about everything you could imagine, but most importantly it had hundreds of spanking clips! It was like a dream come true, a multitude of videos to satisfy my inner spanko, I decided to join because it was free, and also because I had an insatiable appetite for spanking, but then something else happened, something amazing, I made a friend called Tomas! At first it was all very casual and basic, we just exchanged views about our ideas on the finer art of spanking and what we liked and disliked, but then as the weeks and months passed we became closer and began talking more openly about stuff. We began playing with the idea of meeting up to fulfil each others fantasy, but nerves and personal obstacles kept getting in the way. Then, just as we'd decided to give up on the idea Tomas was sent on a business trip and it turned out he'd be staying in a hotel only a few miles away from where I live!



After a shy conversation on the telephone we set a date for the following Thursday at the hotel where Tomas would be staying, he'd be there for ten days so we'd have plenty of opportunity to meet again within that time if we wanted to. We agreed just to meet, no expectations or desires, just a chance to meet face to face after all these months of chatting online, we didn't even know what each other looked like so it could turn out to be quite a shock! To say I was nervous would have been an understatement, if truth be told I was bricking it, but at the same time I was terribly excited about meeting him too as we'd become such close friends.

On Thursday afternoon I set of for the Renaissance Hotel, we'd agreed to meet in the bar and I was looking for a man wearing a red carnation in his lapel. "Cheesy but easy to spot!" had been his words. I was wearing a short brown suede skirt, cream top and my brown leather jacket, smart but not too dressy I hoped, I wandered into the lavish foyer, then headed over towards the bar. Luckily for me there was only one man standing at the bar, but I'd have recognised him anyway, not only was he just the way he'd described, but sure enough,there in his lapel was a beautiful red carnation.

"Hello, Tom." I said as I rushed forward and gave him a hug, he kissed me on the cheek.

"Hello, Lori!"

We stood there for a few minutes just gazing at each other, then I started to giggle as I realised the staff were giving us funny looks. "Maybe we should sit down?"

"Yes, good idea." He nodded. "I think the lounge would be more comfy. Would you like a coffee?"

"Yes please, I'd love one."

We settled down onto one of the plush leather sofas and talked for a while about stuff in general, then suddenly Tomas turned to me and asked. "So when do I get to spank your bottom then?"

As soon as he'd said it I could feel my face burning. "I um... well I.." I was lost for words and gazed around shyly hoping no one was eavesdropping on our little chat.

Tomas grinned. "You're cute when you blush."

I giggled like a fourteen year old. "It's your fault, you kind of.. took me off guard!"

"Well you know it's what we both want, and we've discussed it in such detail hundreds of times over, so how about making it reality?"

I chewed my lower lip for what seemed like ages, then I turned to face him. "Okay!" I nodded. "You can.. you know!" I couldn't even bring myself to say the word.

"Spank you?" Tomas offered.

"Yes."

He stood up and held his hands out to me. "Come on then."

I frowned up at him. "What... now?"

"No time like the present." He smiled then sat down again and tenderly held my hands. "Listen, I promise you'll enjoy it, we both will, and I won't do anything you don't want me to. All you have to do is say the word and I'll stop. Speaking of which,we should decide on a safe word, you know, something catchy that can't be mistaken for anything else."

I thought for a while. "How about my user name?"

"Smartypants?"

"Yeah, it's not likely to come up in conversation, so if I yell Smartypants you'll know to stop."

Tomas nodded. "Good idea, okay then." He stood up again and pulled me to my feet. "Let's go see if your bottom's as cute as I think it is!"



After getting into the lift we made our way up to the fifth floor, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation and my heart was racing. When the lift doors opened Tomas gestured for me to get out first, it may sound strange but all of a sudden I was very aware of my bottom, it was as though it had suddenly trebled in size and I couldn't help smoothing my skirt down over it as we made our way along the corridor.

"Here we are then." He said as we stopped outside room 507.

I swallowed hard, wondering if I was about to do the most stupid thing in my life, Tomas sensed my trepidation and placed his hand on my shoulder and I felt a tingle down my spine.

"Trust me," he said gently, "it'll be fine."

I smiled and nodded at him." I know." And somehow I did know, although the fear of being spanked remained strong, I somehow knew I would be completely safe with Tomas and that we'd both enjoy the experience.



Tomas unlocked the door and I could immediately see he was staying in a luxury suite, it was lavish and beautifully decorated. I couldn't help giving a "Wow!" as I walked in and took in my plush surroundings. After helping me off with my jacket Tomas took my hand and slowly led me over to a chaise longue in the corner, as we approached it my heart began to thump in my chest and I pulled back from him. "I'm sorry but... well I don't think I can do this."

"It's okay." he said reassuringly. "Just sit next to me for a while."

We both sat down on the chaise longue but Tomas made sure I was on his right, he was still holding my hand as he looked deep into my eyes.

"Just think about how many times you've wanted to be spanked." He said softly."We've talked about it for months now and every day you've told me it's something you've longed for."

"I know, but it's always just been a fantasy, what if I don't like it?"

"At least you'll know." He smiled."What if you do like it, if you don't try it you'll never know and you could end up missing out on something amazing just because you're too afraid to try."

I knew he was right, I took a deep breath and nodded at him. "Okay, let's do it!"

My heart was still racing as Tomas smiled at me. "Right then, young lady, let's get you over my knee!"

He placed his right arm around my back and gently eased me across his lap, at first my upper body was supported by the chaise longue and my feet were on the floor, but Tomas soon manoeuvred me so my hands were also on the floor and I was completely draped across his lap. I didn't put up any resistance, but just lay there as he got me into position and patted my bottom, it felt so strange to be staring at the carpet, but his lap was strangely comfortable.

"You okay there?" He asked me gently.

"Yeah.. I think so." I replied with a shaky voice. I felt nervous, but at the same time exhilarated and excited.

"I'm going to start by spanking you over your skirt." He told me, he must have felt me tense up. "It's okay, just relax, if you tense up it'll hurt more and I want you to enjoy it!"

I let out a little giggle. "Okay, I'll try."

"Good girl!"

He ran his hand gently down over my bottom and the backs of my thighs, then I felt a firm slap on my right cheek. It didn't hurt but made me jump and was quickly followed by a slap on the left cheek.

"There, that's not so bad is it?" He asked as he caressed my bottom.

"No." I turned my head to face him. "It's actually quite nice!"

He smiled down at me. "See, I told you it would be." With that he smacked both cheeks again and I resumed staring at the carpet, after another dozen smacks Tomas stopped. "You still okay, Lori?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah I'm fine thanks."

"Okay good. Ready for the next stage?"

"I... I think so."

Tomas then did something that had a very strange and profound effect on me, he pulled up my skirt, suddenly I felt a rush of blood surge into my labia and my clitoris seemed to explode into life, I let out a low moan and Tomas gently caressed my bottom through the thin fabric of my panties.

"Oh very cute." he said with a chuckle. "Anyone would think you wore these just for me!"

As it happened I had worn my cutest pair of white lace panties, they had a trim of pink satin ribbon and were sheer enough not to leave anything to the imagination. But right now all I could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch myself!



Time for a proper spanking!" Tomas said with a hint of triumph in his voice.

I swallowed hard and shifted over his lap, I felt vulnerable laying there with my skirt up, but the sexual arousal was amazing and I longed for it to increase, my prayers were soon answered as Tomas began to give me the first proper spanking of my entire life. He alternated between cheeks then concentrated the smacks in the centre of my bottom where cheeks meet thighs, within moments my bottom was stinging and I was squealing and squirming across his knee. I reached back with my right hand in a vain attempt to protect myself but he simply gripped my wrist and continued, I knew I could use my safe word at any moment, but even though the spanking hurt it was igniting new fires deep within my groin that I didn't want to extinguish.

He moved his legs and I was suddenly aware that my clitoris was pressing against his thigh, I couldn't help moving my hips so that I could rub myself against him and within moments I was lost in a hedonistic world of my own, just as I was reaching orgasm I became aware that he wasn't spanking me any more, instead he was gently rubbing my bottom and talking softly to me.

"Sorry, what did you say?" I asked in a dream like state.

"I was just making sure you were enjoying yourself."

"God yes." I breathed. "Very much, thank you."

"Oh it's my pleasure!" He said sincerely as he released my wrist, then he took me by surprise and eased my panties down to my knees before I even had a chance to protest. I let out a cry of shock and began to squirm and struggle to get up, but he held me fast. "Remember how many times you said you wanted to know what a proper spanking felt like?"

"Yes... but I-"

"Well now you're finding out just how gratifying it is!" he interrupted. He leant close and whispered in my ear. "Just trust me."

I felt myself relax across his lap as he caressed and rubbed my bottom, it felt so erotic and sensual that I sighed with pleasure, then all of a sudden he began to spank me again. I was shocked at how much protection the sheer fabric of my panties had given me, unless he was just smacking me harder. The sting was now so much sharper than before and elicited more squeals and squirms from me, but at the same time my nakedness and vulnerability had reignited the fire in my clitoris and I could feel my labia swelling, I could also feel myself getting wet between my legs and longed to rub my sex. Tomas seemed to read my mind and he quickly adjusted my position so his right leg was pressing hard against my clitoris, I began to grind against him hard and deep and soon the sting in my bottom was forgotten and replaced with the most wonderful feelings of sexual pleasure. I started moving in rhythm to the spanks, then I closed my eyes and was lost in my own little world again. I could feel an orgasm building deep within me, then Tomas began to concentrate the spanks as close to my sex as he could and seconds later my body was rocked with the most amazing orgasm I'd ever felt in my life.

"Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Tomas immediately stopped spanking me and I lay there gasping and shuddering across his lap, wave after wave of pleasure washed over me and for a moment it felt like it would never end. He ran his fingers through my hair and gently caressed my bottom and thighs while the world around me came back into focus, then he slowly and carefully lifted me up and sat me on his lap and held me close.

"I told you you'd enjoy it."

I laughed softly, "That's an understatement, it was wonderful." I said quietly. "Totally amazing. I.. I never dreamed it could feel as good as that."

"I'm really pleased." He said and kissed me on the cheek. "Fancy returning the favour?"

I felt awkward and swallowed hard, I was suddenly all too aware that my panties were mid thigh, plus I had no idea what he had in mind and I felt my nerves beginning to take hold again. "It.. well it depends on what you want me to do. I mean I'm-"

"It's okay." He said smiling. "I just want you to, well to fulfil one of my fantasies now. If it's okay with you of course?"

I gave him a wry smile."Okay, well... what do you want me to do?"

He smiled broadly and patted my bottom. "Up you get!"

I stood up and pulled my panties up as he crossed the room to the wardrobe, he reached into the back and removed something, then turned to face me and my jaw dropped in shock. "That's... that's a cane!"

"Yep!" he grinned as he walked over to me.

I shook my head. "No, oh no, no you're not using that on me!" I started to head for the door and he grabbed my arm.

"Lori, wait! Please. I don't want to use it on you!"

I turned to look at him and shook my head again. "What do you mean, Tom? I don't understand."

He spoke softly and said. "I want you to use it on me!"

First I stared at Tomas, then the cane, then Tomas again. "I've never done anything like that, Tom, I really don't think I could."

"Please, Lori, just try, for me? It's always been a thing of mine, being punished by a pretty but dominant woman."

I smiled at him, he seemed so child like all of a sudden that I just couldn't refuse. "Okay." I smiled and nodded. "I'll have a go, just for you."

"Thank you!" He kissed my forehead, then held out the cane for me to take.

I reluctantly took the cruel looking implement from him, it felt surprisingly light and benign, but I knew from watching clips on the Internet that it could be vicious when used as intended. Could I use it as intended? What if I couldn't do it? More importantly what if I could do it and it went wrong? "I have no idea how to use it!"

Tomas led me over to the the large bed and picked up a pillow ."Have a practice hitting this." He said and lay it on the edge of the bed.

I felt foolish at first but I tapped the cane against the pillow a few times and found it quite easy.

"It needs to be much harder than that." He said as he took the cane from me, he whacked it down hard across the pillow making me jump and leaving a deep groove in it. "More like that." He handed it back to me. "You try it."

"Oh God I don't think I could hit you as hard as that."

"Just hit the pillow first." I took a deep breath, then gripped the cane tightly and brought it down a little harder. "Better." He nodded."Now harder." I did as instructed and kept going until I felt more confident and was hitting the pillow really hard and leaving a groove. "That's great!" He smiled. "Now it's up to you to take charge."

I frowned at him and he waggled his eyebrows at me, suddenly the penny dropped and I knew what he wanted me to do. I got another pillow and placed one on top of the other at the foot of the bed, then I put on my sternest voice. "Right, young man, get those trousers and pants down and bend over!"

Tomas' face lit up as I said those words, then he took a deep breath and looked more serious. He was visibly shaking as he unbuttoned his trousers and slid the zip down, then he hesitated before lowering them to the floor, I could already see he was getting aroused by the bulge in his pants, but then the sight of my bare bottom had probably added to that. Tomas swallowed hard and gave me an almost pleading look, but I played the game and raised one eyebrow to show what was expected of him, he then gripped the waistband of his white pants and quickly lowered them. My eyes widened as his rampant cock sprung out and stood erect, within seconds a bead of glistening pre cum was visible and it was all I could do to tear my gaze away from it. Harry stood there looking like a naughty schoolboy, I gestured towards the pillows.

"Bend over." I said firmly, despite trying to sound fierce and stern there was an air of pity in my voice so I quickly followed with. "Now!"

"Yes, Miss." He said submissively, he immediately obeyed and bent himself across the end of the bed so his stomach was on the pillows and his bottom was presented high in the air, then he settled his upper body and wriggled to get comfortable.

It was quite a sight that now lay before me, Tomas, laid across the foot of the bed with his trousers and pants around his ankles, he had a gorgeous bottom which was so sexy I wanted to squeeze it like mad, but I knew what he wanted was anything but gentle attention.

I bit my lower lip as my gaze flicked between his bottom and the cane. "Are you sure about this?" I asked sympathetically.

"Yes miss." He replied. "I'm sure."

"Right, okay then." I took a firm grip on the cane and tapped it gently against his bottom a few times, just to get the aim right, then after taking a deep calming breath I drew the cane back and brought it down hard against Tomas' bare cheeks... THWACK!!!!! I was amazed at my own ability, the cane left a white line across his skin which almost immediately turned crimson and there was a visible welt. I was of course expecting a scream of pain, but instead he gripped the duvet with clenched fists and sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth. I grimaced. "Are you okay." He turned his head to face me and smiled broadly, but his answer baffled me.

"Oh yes, thank you, Lori. It's the most wonderful thing I've ever felt in my life!"

I stared at the crimson line across Tomas' buttocks in amazement, it must have hurt like hell so it was hard to believe he actually enjoyed the feeling. "Are you... are you sure you want me to carry on?"

"Oh yes." He replied enthusiastically. "Definitely!"

"Um... okay. Well, how many should I do?"

"As many as you like."

"I'd have liked to do none at all." I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that um... six is traditional. You know, six of the best." I managed a laugh even though I was trembling with nerves.

"Hmm, if you say so, Miss."

His voice was muffled by the duvet now, but his body language showed how content and ready he was. I took up position again and after a slight hesitation brought the cane down across his bottom for the second time, just above the first stroke, there was a slight murmur from my victim, but it sounded more of pleasure than pain. I watched wide eyed as the second crimson line appeared across Tomas' pale skin, then I lined up the cane and gave him stroke number three, it thwacked down just below the first and soon there were three perfectly spaced, parallel crimson lines before me. Even though I didn't like inflicting pain and injury on someone I felt proud of my efforts and accuracy, but unfortunately my skills were short lived as I brought stroke number four down across the tops of Tomas' thighs. Tomas yelped and shot upright, clutching at his burning thighs.

"Oh God, oh I'm so sorry!" I dropped the cane on the floor and covered my face with my hands. "I should never have tried this."

Tomas sucked in air through his teeth. "No... no it's fine, honestly, it just took me off guard that's all!"

He turned to face me and despite myself I couldn't help looking down, his cock was positively throbbing now and looked fit to explode.

"I'm okay, really." He smiled. "Please, don't let it put you off, you're really good at it."

"Am I?" I wasn't convinced.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "Yes, you are. Just... you know, try to aim it higher next time, like you did the first three!"

I nodded reluctantly. "Okay , but if it goes wrong again I quit."

He laughed softly. "If it goes wrong again I'll make sure you quit, and I'll also make sure you can't sit down for a week!"

I felt myself blush. "Look who's talking!" I grinned.

Tomas touched his bottom again and winced. "That's very true, but by my reckoning I still have two to go."

With that he took up position at the foot of the bed again and I readied myself for stroke number five. My heart was in my mouth as I brought the cane down, but mercifully it landed alongside the first three on the fleshiest part of Tomas' bottom and I suddenly felt full of confidence again.

"Shall we call that stroke number four as I messed up the last one?"

He smiled back at me."If you insist, Miss!"

I smiled back at him, then turned my attention to finishing the job. The next stroke was aimed to cross the previous four lines and it was spot on, it elicited a long groan from Tomas and he squirmed wonderfully for a few moments, I then gave him a mirrored stripe so that his bottom had five horizontal crimson lines (one a bit too low of course) and two diagonal stripes in the shape of a cross across his buttocks, it was quite a sight!

Tomas lay there squirming and moaning as I admired my handiwork, but as I leaned closer I could see the tip of his cock oozing love juice onto the duvet. By now I was feeling extremely aroused myself and the sight and smell of his pre-cum was making me even hornier, I gently caressed his cheeks, then slid my hand down between his thighs until it was just brushing against his cock.

"Ahhhhhh!" His back arched at my touch and he parted his legs to make it easier for me, so I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and began to work it gently up and down, at the same time my other hand slipped inside my panties and I began to firmly massage my throbbing love bud.

I dropped to my knees and slowly but surely brought us both off, it was a wonderful feeling to be pleasing both of us at the same time, and as we came the air was filled with the sound of two happy people moaning through their awesome orgasms. I was sitting on the floor smiling broadly as Tomas levered himself up and sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, his pleasure was evident all down the duvet and I chuckled as I pointed at it.

"The poor maid's gonna wonder what the hell it is." He grinned. "Think I should wipe it off?"

"Somehow I think she'd figure it out." I laughed. "Best to get rid of it."

"Later." Tomas said as he pulled me up off the floor. "I still have some unfinished business to attend to."

"Oh, what's that." I asked feeling puzzled.

Tomas reached around and unzipped my skirt, then eased it to the floor with no resistance from me. "Well, there's the little matter of you whacking my thighs with that cane."

I stared down into his eyes. "Yeah but I apologised for that, and I made the others good."

"True, you did, but I still don't think it should go unpunished." He took hold of my panties and I felt a shiver run through my groin as he lowered them to meet my skirt. "I think a sound spanking's in order, young lady."

I tingled all over as he said the words and could feel my face burning. "But... you already gave me one." I muttered shyly.

He screwed up his mouth. "Well.. no, actually I gave you a nice gentle spanking compared to what your about to get!"

With that he pulled me across his lap and began to spank me hard and fast, it must have been two or three smacks per second and within moments I was squealing and squirming across his knee, my bottom was on fire and I struggled to break free or at least protect my burning cheeks, but Tomas pinned me fast and held my hands well out of the way as he continued to rain spanks down onto me.

Just as I thought I could take no more the spanking abruptly stopped and I lay limp and breathless across his lap, Tomas pulled me upright, then sat me on his knee and held me close for a while as he smoothed my hair and caressed my burning cheeks. As I clung to him and listened to his soothing words I was suddenly aware of a feeling between my legs, a need that was desperate to be satisfied, just then he scooped me up in his arms and lay me gently on the bed. As our lips met our tongues entwined and we kissed passionately for what seemed like hours, I felt him ease my legs apart, then I groaned softly as I felt his cock slip inside me.

He moved his head away from mine and stared deep into my eyes as he moved inside me with long firm thrusts, I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair as he massaged my clitoris and brought me to a wonderful climax, then I felt the warm rush deep inside me as he came.



An hour later we were laying naked under the duvet, we'd made love three times and were both smiling smugly as we snuggled together.

"Glad you came?" Tomas asked me.

I couldn't help laughing. "Which time?"

He laughed and said. "Oh very funny, I mean the first time, when you arrived here?"

"Yes, I'm very glad." I looked into his eyes. "I must admit, I was really nervous about meeting you, and I never dreamed it would turn out to be like this though, I mean as good as this."

"No, me neither. I didn't even know if I'd actually get to see your lovely bottom."

"I guess I wasn't sure about that either, but I kind of hoped you'd spank me."

"That's why you wore those cute panties!" He offered.

"Uh huh." I nodded. "I never thought I'd end up caning you though!"

"Ahh!" He ran his fingers through my hair. "Yeah I'm sorry to have dropped that bombshell on you, but I didn't think you'd turn up if you knew what I had in mind."

I sighed deeply. "I guess it would have put me off yeah, but as it is I quite enjoyed it, in a funny, sadistic sort of way."

We both giggled and Tomas patted my bottom

."So... are we going to do this again?"

"Which bit?" I asked innocently.

"Uh, all of it of course!"

I gave him a pensive look. "Hmmm, well I dunno, I'll have to think about it!" He gave my bottom a firm slap. "Okay, okay. Of course we're going to do it again." I smiled.

"Good girl." He grinned. "I knew I could persuade you. Same tomorrow then?"

I burst into laughter. "Blimey you're keen."

"Keen to get you over my knee and into my bed." He replied, looking pleased with himself.

"Shame you're only here for a week though." I sad sadly. "I don't think you'll want me caning you again too soon, and by the time you're up for it you'll be off home again. Then it could be ages before we get together."

"Hmmm, didn't I mention?"

"Mention what?"

"My boss, he's asked me to take over as manager here in Maidenhead"

I didn't have a mirror handy, but I'm sure the expression on my face must have been priceless!!
THE END!