I can't ever recall such a total feeling of lack of dignity. The two policeman kept their torches focussed upon me as I tried to scramble my panties back on. I knew that there was no way on earth that they could not have seen my pussy as I struggled to make myself decent.
“Come on then, you are both going to get a free ride to the police station.” One of the cops said sarcastically, as they led us to the van.
I was shaking and feeling physically sick as we made that short walk, to the waiting van.
“I really should be going back to my room in the hall of residence, you know. Can't we just go?” I asked pleadingly, though not that expectant of a pleasant outcome to my question.
“No pet, it isn't as easy as that, you could be looking at charges of gross indecency here.” The older of the two cops replied. “From the States are you?”
“Yes sir, I am....I'm here on an exchange program from Georgia.” I told him, feeling that I was on the verge of tears.
“Well, I don't know what passes for normal behaviour in Georgia, but over here, fornicating in the grounds of the cathedral is pretty much frowned upon!”
That did it for me; I was openly weeping as Paul and I climbed into the back of the van. The van had two long wooden bench seats facing each other. I was unceremoniously dumped onto the left-hand side one, and Paul was told to sit on the right-hand side, straight opposite me.
The younger of the two policemen then sat in with us next to Paul, as the elder one went to the front of the vehicle. As we pulled away, I looked at Paul, hoping for some words of consolation, or even an encouraging smile. Instead, he said.
“Strange world ain't it....this is really odd for a Wednesday night!”
“Shut up!” The cop said, digging Paul in his ribs with his elbow.
I could not believe it. Here I was, my reputation, and possibly my whole future career in jeopardy, and this fool was making jokes!
Once we arrived at the station, everything became a blur of activity when the sergeant at the reception desk realised who I was. The both of us stood there as he frantically made phone calls to various people. It became slowly clear to me that he was reluctant to charge us with anything as the publicity would reflect poorly upon the university and the city.
The result of his various conversations led to Mr. Chambers, the main co-ordinater of the Cultural Exchange Program being called out from his home to collect me.
He burst into the station about fifteen minutes after he received the call. He did not look happy, in no way did he look happy at all. In fact, he looked furious.
“Thank you, sergeant Moore...you have handled this in an impeccable manner. Needless to say, there will be ramifications for Miss Porter, this matter will in no way be overlooked by the university authorities, you can rest assured on that!” Mr. Chambers said, then added “Come on you two, we are going now!”
Paul and I then followed Mr. Chambers out to the car park. “Sue-Lynne, I'll take you back to the castle, and then tomorrow morning, I want to see you in the admin office at nine o'clock prompt.” Mr. Chambers said gruffly as we reached his vehicle.
Paul stood in the car park, then unbelievably said.
“Don't suppose there is any chance of a lift home is there?”
“You have to be joking lad, just thank your lucky stars that you are not sleeping in a cell tonight!”
“Ah well, you know what they say 'shy bairns get nowt' just thought I'd ask,” Paul replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yes, well evidently, neither of you can be accused of being shy.” Mr. Chambers said opening his car door and pushing me inside.
“See ya later Sue-Lynne!” Paul shouted to me as he strolled of towards the main road.
“Not if I can help it young man.” I heard Mr. Chambers mutter under his breath.
The short journey back was in complete silence. My night was a restless one. How could something so good go so wrong?
I lay in my bed wondering what ramifications Mr. Chambers had in mind for me?
Just as the sky was starting to lighten, as dawn was breaking, I managed to cry myself to sleep.
Eight o'clock, my alarm sounded, I quickly washed and dressed, getting along to the office at eight forty-five before the secretaries had even arrived. I then heard footsteps echoing along the stone vaulted corridor, clearly some were being made by the high heeled shoes of a female. I turned to see Mr. Chambers accompanying the two secretaries; he was deep in conversation with them.
Also, he looked to be in better spirits than he had been last night, perhaps things were not going to be so bad for me after all?
“Yes, I will only need the use of your office for five minutes or so, fifteen at the maximum...so you can treat this as an early morning coffee break.” I heard him say, smiling to the two admin assistants.
“Yes that would be fine with us.” One replied.
“Take as long as you like sir.” The other one added, handing Mr. Chambers the keys.
Mr. Chambers then unlocked and opened the office, holding the door open for me to enter in front of him. He then entered the room and sat behind a desk, making no offer of a seat for me .It would seem I would have to stand in front of him like a naughty schoolgirl about to be lectured by the principal.
In fact, with him sitting there in his suit; his dark hair and dark beard; accompanied by his broad frame, he did indeed look every inch of the annoyed principal.
“Miss Porter, I cannot see any way in which this position can be resolved, other than sending you home.” He announced, and I felt the floor swallowing me up.
“Sir...I...I thought...” I stumbled out, only to be cut short by his booming voice.
“You can't possibly think that behaviour such of this can be sanctioned surely? Screwing in the consecrated grounds of one of the finest cathedrals in Europe?”
“We...we were not...” I tried to reply.
“You weren't screwing, is that what you are trying to tell me?” I nodded miserably in silent response. “You were caught with your knickers around your ankles, so I don't think you were planning on just having a quiet good night peck on the cheek, were you?”
I felt my face burning up as I mumbled, “No sir.”
“I will allow you time to say goodbye to your fellow students; you can make up any story that you wish to them for your sudden return home. Of course, your college will be informed of the real reasons for your departure, and no doubt they will inform your parents. But that is not my problem, how you deal with your disgrace when you get home.” Mr chambers told me.
I was now desperate; I was seeking any way out of my predicament when a thought flashed through my brain.
“Sir, could you not punish me yourself? You know, keep it all between the two of us, that way I could stay on here. I promise nothing like this will happen again!”
To my dismay, Mr. Chambers just laughed, then he replied shaking his head.
“I'm sorry miss Porter; we don't give out detentions or lines at University's in England.”
“I didn't mean detention sir,” I said, now close to tears, “ I meant corporal punishment. I believe that girls, well young women, not that much younger than me, still get caned in British schools?”
“That is true.” Mr. Chambers said, with a quizzical look in his face.
I could feel his eyes burning into me as he weighed up the situation in his mind. I knew then that I had sparked up ideas in his head; it was written all over his face. I breathed out almost in relief; I knew I had him hooked upon the idea.
Finally, he broke the hanging silence.
“If....and it is a big if. We did go down that particular path; it would be strictly between you and myself.” I nodded in assent. “Also, it will be a severe punishment, your behaviour would warrant nothing less than a severe beating?”
“Yes sir, I appreciate that.” I replied, trying to hide my eagerness at the notion of having my secret fantasy played out for real.
Mr. Chambers then tore out a page from the notebook lying on the secretary's desk; he then quickly scribbled down his address on the paper and handed it to me.
“Be here at five o'clock sharp, I have a couple of calls to make, as I don't have any canes or straps in my home. So, I will have to borrow something from a headmaster friend of mine.” I swallowed hard as he said that, so it was going to be a caning.
Undoubtedly he misinterpreted the look on my face, as he then added. “Don't worry, he will not know the actual reasons for me requesting these items.”
“Yes sir, I'm sure that you will be discrete, as will I, that is something you can be very sure about.” I told him.
“Well, I shall see you at five miss Porter.” He said clearly by way of dismissal.
I skipped my classes, and avoided the Student's Union; the last thing I wanted was to bump into Veronica as I did not know if she had been in touch with Paul at all. Would Paul say anything to her about what had happened the previous night?
I just did not want to take that risk, facing her was something I decided to put off until the weekend. So, I spent the day aimlessly wandering about the castle and the cathedral. I was just killing time.
About three-thirty I returned to my room, and decided what to wear for my imminent punishment. I wanted to look my best for Mr. Chambers, you see I have always had this thing about older men in positions of authority. It's not like a “daddy” thing. It's more about power Mr. Chambers was in a position of power, or at least he would be at five o'clock, as he would then have total power over me!
I decided upon a plain black pleated skirt and an ivory blouse. My makeup, I decided would be minimal, a little eye powder and mascara, nothing else. I didn't know what to expect, so to be on the safe side, I chose matching plain white panties and bra. After checking myself out in the mirror, I made my way to his house, which was just out from the city centre.
Durham was a great city for walking around, small and centralised, nowhere ever seemed to be more than a ten minute walk. So, I found myself outside of his house at four-thirty...and waited.
That half hour was torturous; my mind flooded with doubts. It is one thing to have fantasies about corporal punishment, now that fantasy was to become a stark reality. You see, for all that I was not a paragon of virtue in my early teens. I was the on the whole a good girl; I never got into trouble as I did very little wrong and when I did do anything, I was lucky and never got caught. At least that was the case until my escapade with Paul, the very escapade that was now about to be addressed.
Finally, I opened Mr. Chambers garden gate and made my way up the steep steps to his front door. Just as I was about to knock upon the door, it opened, Mr.Chambers stood there looming over me.
“Please come in miss Porter, glad you got here on time,” He said smiling affably, “ the sooner we start, the sooner this whole sad business can be forgotten about. Yes, we are going to wipe the slate clean this evening.”
I entered his house, now encouraged by his words.
“We will be in the sitting room at the rear of the house, its straight ahead at the end of the passage.” he told me cheerfully, then added “You see, using that room we will not disturb my neighbours with the noise.”
Those words set butterflies to flight in my stomach; this was all very real, and about to happen. I entered the room and to my surprise it was very modern for the times; I had expected Mr. Chambers tastes to be more old-fashioned. The room was large and very light; there was a large sofa towards the rear of the room, next to the sofa was a small coffee table.
I could not help but notice, that upon that table lay a cane, and a wooden handled strap.
“As I told you earlier miss Porter, this will be a severe beating.” Mr. Chambers stated plainly. “You will receive ten strokes of the leather tawse, then eight strokes of the cane. All strokes will be applied to your bottom. Usually, the tawse is given to the hands, but that would impede your music studies, so I have decide that this will be solely a bottom based punishment, is that OK with you?”
For all that I knew that the question was rhetorical, I quickly answered.
“Yes sir, thank you sir!”
The idea of a hand punishment had never even crossed my mind, hence my enthusiastic reply.
“Well, we shall begin. If you could be so kind as to bend over the arm of the sofa, as far as you can so we can make your bottom into a nice round target.” He instructed me cheerfully.
I slowly got into the required position, then I heard Mr. Chambers voice again as I saw him bend down to pick up the strap.
“I hope you are aware that this is going to hurt you. The traditional thing is to say 'this will hurt me more than it hurts you', but that would be a lie; this is going to hurt you, and you alone!”
With that, he brought the strap down upon my proffered bottom cheeks. Even with the protection of my skirt and panties, the pain was horrendous.
The stark reality of my situation was now being hammered home in no uncertain terms.
The second stroke did not seem as bad as the first, but then he waited before delivering the third. As I lay there awaiting him to continue with my chastisement, I felt the heat of those two strokes building up, which was clearly his intent.
He continued with this ploy of two strokes then a rest, until by the sixth stroke tears were rolling down my cheeks. But it wasn't just my rear where the heat was building. As my body forced blood into my bottom, it was also engorging my sex, I was now having to cope mentally with two very different sensations of heat!
By the time I felt the tenth and final kiss of the strap, I was upon the verge of orgasm.
“Right miss Porter, you can stand now.”
I stood up, painfully dazed and confused.
“We are now merely at the halfway mark,” Mr. Chambers reminded me, as if any reminder was needed. “Your caning will follow in a few minutes, but I have decided that your caning will be delivered in a more apt manner.”
“I'm sorry sir, but I don't know what you mean...” I said as I stood before him, rapidly rubbing my butt in the vain hope of removing, ar at least alleviating the sting.
“Well, as you were caught sans culottes, that is how I mean to deliver your caning. You will receive the cane upon your bare bottom!”
Those words lit me up with both fear and excitement in equal measure.
“Sir, you can't expect me to take my panties off,” I said, still rubbing at my bottom, “ it would not be decent.”
“Well, miss Porter, you did not seem to be too worried about decency last night.” He reminded me. “Anway, you won't be taking your knickers off, I will be doing that for you. Now bend back over and we can begin.”
I don't know what is about the word knickers, but it registers with me much more than panties. Somehow just the sound of the word, as it rolls off someone's tongue seems dark and sexual. His use of that word ramped up my desire, and I complied meekly with his wishes and went back across the sofa arm.
I felt his hands go to my lower back, and then he flipped my skirt up clear of my panties. Next I felt his fingers at the waistband of my pants, then he slowly, ever so slowly tugged them down past my knees allowing them to fall to my ankles. This now being the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I had been denuded in such a manner by an Englishman.
“Mmmh...interesting.” Mr.Chambers said.
“I'm sorry sir...what...”
“You knickers appear to be somewhat damp!”
I close my eyes in shame at his discovery; my secret was now out in the open.
“Eight strokes, four then a little rest, then the final four.” He announced.
The strapping had in no way prepared me for the cane, the first stroke was like a white-hot line of pain searing into my already stinging buttocks.
I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, waiting for the second stroke. It landed, and even with my eyes tightly closed, I saw a blaze of colour erupt before my retinas.
The third stroke, I screamed out in pain.
The fourth landed, and I was sobbing.
I heard him put the cane back down on the coffee table. Then I felt his hands upon my bared flesh, his fingers traced the cane slashes.
“You are striping up nicely here miss Porter.” He informed me.
Then I felt his fingers drop lower, they probed into the cleft of my bottom, then moved lower still, their intended destination now becoming clear in my mind.
“You are incredibly wet young lady,” He laughed as his fingers now probed my slick pussy, “ one would think that you are enjoying this. Is that the case miss Porter?”
I lay there silent, as his fingers moved still deeper within me.
“I asked you a question miss Porter; common politeness demands a reply.” He said, giving my left butt cheek a harsh slap with his free left hand as his right hand continued it's ministrations.
“Kind of sir...not enjoying...but, it's hard to describe...” I muttered, getting back to that edge again.
“Don't worry, you aren't the first lady that enjoys a little bit of slap and tickle.”
I was now physically shaking as he brought me ever closer to release. Then he stopped.
“We still have the second part of your punishment to see to. Then we can attend to your quite obvious needs.” He stated, picking up the cane again.
He delivered the final four strokes in rapid fire; I hardly had the time to catch my breath, as each stroke elicited a cry of pain from me. I turned to see him throw the cane to the floor, and he then undid and lowered his trousers and pants in one movement. I was evident that my punishment had made him as excited as myself.
He grabbed my hips and slightly altered my position; then he entered me. I came almost straight away as he began to move within me. With his thighs hitting against my pained backside, I did something that I had never done before, I started to feel myself peak again.
I had my first ever multiple orgasm!
Later, two more orgasms later, as we both lay there naked upon his sofa, he asked me.
“I take it you won't be seeing that loathsome little oick Paul gain will you?”
“No sir, I will not will not see Paul again.” I said, as I snuggled up to Mr. Chambers.
You see that's the thing about Mr. Right-Nows, they are very like Easter, a moveable feast.