Pippa's Punishment

This is one of those stories that I read many many years ago that has always stuck with  me. surly a sign of a great piece of writing.

Philippa Courtenay, who preferred to be known as Pippa, was the eighteen year old daughter of Robert Courtenay, the headmaster of Radley Court Preparatory School. She was studying History at college, but stayed at the school during her holidays.  Since colleges are more generous with their vacations than prep schools Pippa was often at the school during term time.

Pippa was a good looking girl with a soft, delicate prettiness. She had light brown hair tied back in a neat pony-tail and blue eyes that often sparkled with mischief. Many girls of her age would have found life at as boys' prep school quite boring, but Pippa was prepared to find enjoyment in anything at all.

She knew that the eldest boys, thirteen and fourteen year olds, were quite old enough to find her attractive and she deliberately teased them by smiling seductively at them or wiggling her pretty bottom in their direction.  Once or twice she had even favoured some senior boys with a kiss - 'a proper kiss with the tongue and everything' - but she would not have dreamed of going any further.

Although the boys found her irresistibly attractive - she had no competition after all except for the middle-aged teacher Mrs Mills and her own mother - they knew she was just teasing them and was not to be trusted.

Once a boy called Robert Barker had been caught with her out of bounds - she had asked him out for a walk saying she would give him a kiss. When they had been caught Pippa said that she had only just met him.  Gallantly Barker didn't deny it and said that he'd broken bounds by himself to go to the shops. He received six of the best from Mr Courtenay's cane and was no longer so attracted to Pippa.

This incident revived some speculation amongst the boys. Why had Pippa lied if not to avoid punishment herself?  Would Mr Courtenay have caned her as well if he'd known the truth?

There was a tradition, passed down from one year to the next, that Pippa was caned by her father in her bedroom. But although they would have liked to believe it, it seemed unlikely to the boys in the senior dormitory. Pippa's room was immediately above theirs and none of them had ever heard her being caned.

The truth of the matter was as follows. Pippa had never been caned but up until she had been twelve or thirteen she had been slippered by her father when she'd been particularly naughty. Five or six years is a long time in prep school life, the most senior boys had just been completely new then, and the story of her slipperings had been corrupted by transmission into canings.

One evening Pippa, dressed provocatively in a figure-hugging T-shirt and tight faded-denim jeans, came into the senior dorm as the boys were washing and getting ready for bed. One of the boys, Barry Cronin, had visited Mr Courtenay's study earlier that day and as he lowered his shorts some boys gathered to inspect the marks left by the headmaster's cane. Pippa joined the group and drew a deep breath.

"Gosh!  Did my dad do that? I bet it hurts! Come on, I'll give you a kiss if you'll let me feel the marks!"

As she made these remarks some of the boys noticed her father standing in the doorway. Pippa hadn't noticed him however and she was dumbfounded to hear him say, in a voice the boys recognised as ominous, "Philippa.  You shouldn't be in here. Don't answer now. Just go and wait for me in your bedroom. I shall be up to see you in a moment."

She left and Mr Courtenay proceeded to lecture the members of the dorm for making too much noise. He threatened to bring his cane up straight away if there was a further outbreak. Then he stormed out.

In her bedroom Pippa was wondering what was going to happen. She felt that the best that she could expect would be another taste of the slipper she'd thought she'd grown too old for five years earlier. But it could be even worse - he might cane her! "Surely he can't," she thought, "I'm a grown woman." But she didn't think, somehow, that he was going to let her off with just a slippering.

When her father entered her bedroom her worst fears were exceeded. He was carrying not one cane but two! One was the ordinary cane, about two feet six long, which Cronin had felt earlier that day, and the other was a good six inches longer and slightly thicker. It was a senior school cane retained by Mr Courtenay from his days as a public school housemaster.

"Right, my girl!  Let's get this over!" said Mr Courtenay. "We both know what you've done. Perhaps I haven't been strict enough with you in the past, but I won't make that mistake again! Take those jeans down!"

Pippa did not dare to argue with her father in this mood. With trembling fingers she unzipped the jeans and eased them off over her shapely thighs.  She slipped off her shoes and removed her jeans, folding them neatly and placing them on her bed.

Mr Courtenay told her to take the books off the bedside table and to move it into the centre of the room. The frightened girl did so, embarrassed at the fact that all she was wearing below her waist was her white cotton panties. When the table was placed to her father's satisfaction, giving him room for and unrestricted swing of the cane, he told her to bend over and grasp its top. He made her move her legs slightly until he felt that her pantie-clad bottom was perfectly placed. 

Then he said "First I'm going to give you exactly what I gave Cronin. Six of the best. I intend it to hurt but I do not advise you to make a fuss unless you want those boys to hear. Their dormitory is directly below this room." With that he drew back the cane to begin the punishment. Pippa's whole body tensed as she waited for the first stroke.

WHACK!

The well-used cane bit its way deeply into the tender flesh of its first-ever female victim, across the narrow V of the girl's panties.  Pippa inhaled urgently. It was bad, but it might have been worse.

She rode the second stroke quite well, choking back a cry and wriggling her backside.  But she still had four of the best to come and she knew that on this occasion her father would deliver only the very best.

Somewhat surprised at how well his daughter was coping with the early part of her punishment, Mr Courtenay applied even more force to his third stroke.

WHACKK!!

"Oh . . . ow . . . oh!" cried Pippa.  She raised first one foot and then the other.  It seemed as if white hot flames were searing her entire bottom.

The fourth cut brought forth a resounding screech and a furious writhing of the teenager's haunches. That vicious stroke sent vibrations to every nerve and fibre of her body. She had tried very hard not to cry but now the floodgates burst and her slender body heaved with sobs. She was on the point of leaping up and clutching her rear, but a stern rebuke and the threat of additional strokes made her slump back over the table.

Pippa flexed her bottom-muscles, anticipating the next slash of pain. It wasn't her bottom that got it, however. The cane dug deeply into the firm flesh at the top of her thighs.

The girl's agony was acute. Despite her firm intentions she screamed and stamped her bare feet hard on the floor.

Only one stroke of the six remained. The angry father was determined it would be a good one. The cane scythed through the air.

SWISH! . . . WHACKK!!!

"Oh . . . ooh . . . ah . . . oo . . . agh!" cried out Pippa, her body jerking upright. She must have leaped a foot in the air before her feet landed back on the floor.  Her hands stuck to her wealed bottom as though they had been magnetised.

Mr Courtenay grasped his sobbing daughter by her shoulders and addressed her: "Well, you wanted to know what Cronin's marks felt like. Now you know - from the inside! Now I propose to deal with you for you disgraceful and indecent behaviour." And he put down the smaller cane and picked up the longer.

Pippa tried to protest that she had already been punished, but her father insisted that he had not started yet. He told her that she had wanted to know what Cronin had got and now she did know, but she had not yet been punished for her own misbehaviour. He told her to take off her panties.

The chastened girl obeyed, but very slowly as if hoping every moment for a reprieve. Her buttocks were now fully revealed, the pale flesh bruising and clearly marked with raised crimson welts. With a dismal sigh she draped herself over the table again.

Mr Courtenay had intended to give his naughty daughter another six with the senior cane, but seeing her state he decided that a lesser punishment should be enough to make his point. "Right, Philippa. Two strokes," he said.

The headmaster was not so used to using the longer cane and he found it difficult to aim accurately. Nevertheless the first stroke dug into one of her earlier weals. Pippa yelped like a scalded cat and her feet danced up and down on the floor. She lifted her head and it thrashed to and fro in line with her tortured bottom.

Her father did not give her any time to recover before he delivered the final stroke. It crashed into her anguished bottom and she nearly went berserk. Then he back arched and she squealed softly for a long few seconds. Mr Courtenay told her she could get up.

He delivered a few well-chosen words and then left his daughter alone to her pain and her shame.

Downstairs in the senior dormitory much of the canings had been audible. There was now no doubt that Pippa did get the cane!  The boys did not dare to talk much with Mr Courtenay in his present mood, but several of them masturbated while thinking of what had happened to the pretty teenager.

Next morning all eyes were on Pippa during Assembly. She wore a long, loose skirt and it was noted that she stood stiffly throughout, even while everyone else was sitting.

A First Caning

One of the fun things about spanking is the role play elements of kink and because our sexual awaking occurs while we are at school there are lots of school based stories around like the one below. 

Julie Wood was a pupil in the sixth form of Witney Grange Mixed Grammar School. She had always been a quiet and well-behaved girl and had kept well out of the way of any serious trouble. Witney Grange was an old-fashioned school with a very good disciplinary record and all its pupils, both boys and girls, were subject to corporal punishment. Julie was not unusual in never having felt the cane, only the headmaster was allowed to use this and it was regarded as an unusually severe punishment even for boys, but she was certainly among a minority of girls in never having felt the slipper or even having had her wrists slapped.

Until fairly recently this had been no more than Julie had deserved. But in the last few months she had been rather capitalising on her position as a "teacher’s pet" and had been taking liberties and seeing how much she could get away with. Julie was also counting on the fact that she was now in the sixth form and that it was rare for a teacher to take a slipper to a sixth form girl. Julie’s behaviour had been noticed, and resented, by the other pupils and had come to the attention of the staff.

At a regular staff meeting one Monday it was decided to give Julie enough rope and see if she would hang herself. Miss James, her form teacher, was instructed not to use her slipper herself but to wait until Julie went far enough out of line and then send her to Mr Glenn, the headmaster. The assembled staff thought that Julie needed a good caning both for her own benefit and to restore the faith of her classmates in the fairness of things. Mr Glenn also emphasised that the news that a sixth form girl had had the cane would quickly spread through the school and would have a very good effect on the behaviour of girls in lower forms who would realise what was awaiting their own bottoms if their conduct didn’t improve.

Miss Osbourne did her best for Julie, whom she liked and thought was not basically a bad girl, but just going through a rather silly phase at the moment, but she agreed with her colleague’s plan. At heart, too, she felt that Julie deserved it, although she rather regretted not having given the girl a good dose of the slipper the last time she’d acted up. That would have put a stop to her stupidities she was sure.

She went so far as to have a quiet word with Julie and warn her to pull her socks up, but Julie just smiled cheekily. She had got away with so much from Miss Osbourne that she didn’t believe she would ever give her a proper punishment.

That Wednesday several boys and girls, including Julie, were late for class, having been talking in the corridor. Miss Osbourne made no distinctions and awarded all the pupils concerned fifty lines to be done by the next day.

Julie didn’t do her lines. She’d only ever had lines once before and she had been allowed to get away with handing them in a week late on that occasion. She decided that she would say she hadn’t had time to do the lines.

On Thursday Miss Osbourne took Julie’s class in the last period, General Studies, which all sixth formers had to take. Before starting the lesson she asked for the lines to be handed in. Everyone except for Julie handed in their lines.

"Julie Wood!" Where are your lines?"

At the last minute Julie felt that she couldn’t say that there hadn’t been enough time. After all everybody else had done theirs! She had never seen Miss Osbourne looking at her with such an angry expression. Just as though she were one of the naughty girls, not her favourite at all!

Rather disconcerted Julie replied "I’m sorry, miss. I forgot. I’ll do them for tomorrow!"

Miss Osbourne did not reply, but started to write a short note. Watching, Julie was not sure that she understood. Surely she couldn’t be going to send her - Julie Wood - for the . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted. Miss Osbourne had finished the note and looked up at Julie. "Take this note to Mr Glenn, Julie. He will deal with you. I’m sorry that this is necessary, but you have had your warnings and this is the last straw."

Julie was dumbfounded. Never in her worst dreams had she imagined this. She had worried a bit during the day about Miss Osbourne’s reaction when she didn’t hand in the lines but had thought that the worst that could possibly happen to her was that she would get the slipper. And all her friends had had the slipper and had said that it didn’t hurt much, just stung for a minute or two. "Quite a pleasant tingle!" Jill Makin had said. But the cane was another matter. Of her close friends only Emma Longhurst had had the cane. Julie had never asked her about it and they had not been particular friends at the time but she remembered Emma’s tearful return to the classroom, how careful she’d been about sitting down for some time after the punishment and the radical change it had produced in her behaviour.

"Oh, no miss! Please! Don’t send me to Mr Glenn. Can’t I have the slipper from you?" The day before Julie could not have imagined getting the slipper from Miss Osbourne, still less asking for it, but circumstances alter cases.

In any case it was no use and a very reluctant Julie left the class holding the note to make her way to the headmaster’s office. She trudged miserably along the empty corridors. The very best for which she could now realistically hope would be the slipper from Mr Glenn, but she knew it was much more likely to be the cane. But it couldn’t be! Not to her!

She looked at the note, wondering what Miss Osbourne had written. Should she look at it? Superstitiously she decided not to do so. So long as she didn’t know what was on it she could hope that Miss Osbourne had not suggested the cane to the headmaster. She continued on her slow journey, reached Mr Glenn’s door and knocked on it.

"Come in!"

Feeling he stomach turn over and aware that tears were very close the eighteen year old entered the headmaster’s office and, at his request, closed the door behind her.

Mr Glenn, seated at his desk had recognised her and, of course remembered Monday’s staff discussion. And, bearing in mind the expression on Julie’s pretty face, he had no doubt that this young lady had stepped out of line just once too often and been sent to him for a well-earned comeuppance. Nevertheless he asked her why she was there.

"Miss Osbourne sent me, sir!" And Julie gave the headmaster the note.

He read it slowly and carefully and allowed his expression to become angrier and angrier as he did so.

Finally he looked up. "So you didn’t do your lines, Julie?"

There was a pause. Julie had to gather her courage to speak in the august presence of the headmaster who, she knew, had the right to subject her poor never-smacked bottom to awful pain unless she could, somehow, persuade him to let her off.

"No, sir. I . . . forgot them. I’ll do them tonight, sir, I promise!"

"Yes, Julie, you will. But not just the fifty lines Miss Osbourne gave you. I’m doubling them. You will give me one hundred lines before assembly tomorrow."

He looked closely at Julie. She obviously guessed that there was more to come as she moved uneasily from foot to foot. He decided she was probably unconscious of the way her hands were protectively clasped to her bottom through her navy school skirt.

Mr Glenn rose from his seat without continuing his remarks. He walked over to a small cupboard in the corner of the room and took out a crook-handled cane, light-brown in colour and about eighty centimetres in length - the senior school cane. He turned and faced Julie, who was beginning to tremble.

"Miss Osbourne doesn’t believe you ‘forgot’ your lines, Julie, and neither do I. I am going to punish you for lying and for trying to evade a well deserved, and lenient, punishment. I’ve had complaints about you, young lady, from more than one of my staff and it’s more than time for all of this nonsense to end. I don’t like it when I have to cane a sixth former, I like it still less when it’s a pupil I haven’t caned before, and I like it least of all when it’s a girl! [This, by the way, may not have been quite true, but Mr Glenn did try to act as though it were] But I think that the only thing which will get through to you is . . . this!" Mr Glenn swished the cane through the air and continued:

"I will give you six strokes over your knickers. I think that will remind you to do your lines in future! Now, pull out that chair and take your blazer off!"

Horrified, Julie tried her best to persuade Mr Glenn to let her off. When that failed she pleaded with him to be given the slipper, telling him she’d never had it before. But Mr Glenn was implacable, it had to be the cane. Then she tried to get him to reduce the number of strokes - she remembered that Emma had only goot four strokes. But six was Mr Glenn’s minimum for sixth formers and he told her so. Desperately Julie persevered, asking if she could be punished on the hands. She would have gone on to ask if her bottom could at least have the meagre protection her school skirt would provide, but Mr Glenn had had enough. He interrupted her pleas and addressed her angrily:

"You will receive six strokes over your knickers and that’s all there is to it. You’re not the first naughty girl at this school to be caned and there’s nothing special about your bottom! Pull that chair out and get your blazer off right now!"

Sniffing back incipient tears, Julie obeyed. She placed her blazer over the back of the chair. Sixth formers at Whitney Grange did not have to wear uniform but, as it happened, Julie was wearing full uniform that Thursday. Her blazer, like her knee-length skirt, was navy-blue, with the golden crest of the school sewn into its top pocket. She was also wearing the regulation white school blouse with the blue and yellow school tie.

"Bend over the back of the chair and hold onto the seat!" ordered Mr Glenn.

After casting one backwards, imploring, glance at the headmaster’s unchangingly stern countenance Julie lowered herself over the chair back. She was only just tall enough to reach the edge of the seat and had to stretch to do so. As she bent down her bra strap became clearly visible through the white material of her school blouse. Julie felt as though she was in a daze, she still could not believe what was about to happen to her.

Suddenly she felt the headmaster’s hands at the hem of her skirt. Her body tensed as he rolled her skirt and underskirt up in an efficient, well-practised way - he had had years of experience at this task - and pinned them in position, well out of the way. Her navy-blue knickers, the only protection her upturned bottom would have from Mr Glenn’s cane, were now exposed to sight, Julie shivered.

Mr Glenn was not satisfied with her position. "Legs straight, girl!" he ordered. And when Julie did not immediately respond he delivered a resounding slap with the palm of his hand on Julie’s right thigh.

"Oww!" Julie’s head jerked up sharply, sending her blonde hair flying. She had been taken by surprise by the sudden smack. It really stung! She’d been smacked at home sometimes, when she’d been particularly naughty, but never anything like as hard as that. At first she actually thought it was the first stroke of her caning but then she realised and straightened her knees, putting her bottom into an even better place for Mr Glenn to aim at.

He watched for a few seconds, seeing the red mark on the teenager’s white flesh spread angrily. Then he stepped backwards, lifting the cane behind him, and spoke to her.

"Right, Julie. Six strokes. And you’d better stay in position, or it’ll be the worse for you!"

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!

The cane whipped down across Julie’s knickers. The schoolgirl’s reaction was immediate! Julie yelled out loud, released her grip on the chair and leapt upright. She twisted round to face the headmaster, her hands pressed to her stinging bottom. She made a strange sight, with her skirt and slip still pinned up.

"Oww! Oww!! That hurt sir!" she said, accusingly, her pretty face screwed up in pain.

"It’s meant to hurt, Julie. You’re here to be punished. And if you don’t get back into position right now, you’ll get extra strokes and it’ll hurt a lot more!"

Julie looked back at him without speaking, measuring her will against his. After a few moments her eyes began to fill with tears. Very slowly she turned round and re-assumed her humiliating position over the chair. This time Mr Glenn bent down and pulled her knickers up tight so that they practically disappeared in the centre of her bottom, revealing the dull red marks left by the cane’s first visit.

"I meant what I said, Julie," he reminded her. "If you stand up again you’ll get extra strokes!"

Julie’s had not been an unusual reaction to a first stroke of the cane for either a girl or a boy but Mr Glenn meant what he said. This was a punishment and he was not prepared to have his time wasted unnecessarily.

He drew the cane back again.

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!

This time Julie took it in silence, although a shudder passed through her whole body as the sting made itself felt. Her curvy bottom wriggled involuntarily, as if inviting further punishment.

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!

"Owww!!" Despite her best endeavours Julie could not restrain a yelp of pain. She was breathing quickly and desperately in big gasps and she frantically drummed her legs on the carpet trying to handle the sudden stinging pain. She was halfway through her punishment. She had taken three strokes, surely she could take another three.

Mr Glenn waited until Julie was still. When she was . . .

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!

This time the stroke was laid on slightly diagonally, crossing marks left by earlier strokes. Julie jerked her head back and shrieked loudly. She stayed bent over the chair, but one hand came back to delicately explore the surface of her cane-marked bottom. Tears were now coming in earnest, rolling down Julie’s cheeks and dripping onto the carpeted floor of the office. This was what Emma’s punishment must have felt like, but her own was not over yet.

"Hand out of the way, girl! You’ve still got two strokes to come!" The headmaster’s voice echoed her thoughts.

With a strange groan-like sigh Julie obeyed, once again exposing her bottom for punishment. She held her position bent over the chair, shaking and sobbing quietly.

Whenever he caned a naughty pupil, whether male or female, Mr Glenn always ensured that the last two strokes hurt most of all. Now he took careful aim before delivering the fifth stroke to the very lowest part of Julie’s bottom, just above her thighs.

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!

"OWWW!! OWWW! OWWWCH!!"

This time Julie really gave voice. That stroke had really stung! She squirmed and wriggled over the chair, gasping like a grampus, desperately wanting to stand up and rub her bottom, but not daring to do so. Christ! Just one to go. Please, don’t let it be on the same place . . .

But it was, of course, and the hardest stroke of all.

SWISH . . . WHACK!!!!

"Aiieee! Yeeeooww!! Owww!"

Julie leapt a foot into the air and landed on unsteady legs. Her hands flew back to her wealed backside, rubbing and massaging frantically to try to ease the pain. Tears still trickled down her face and the ends of her long blonde hair were wet. Mr Glenn looked on with a slight smile and then walked over and returned the cane to its cupboard. He walked back over to Julie and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Stand still, Julie; hands out of the way!"

He bent down and unpinned the girl’s skirt and slip, letting them fall down to cover her blazing bottom. Julie resumed her rubbing, now through the material of her skirt. Mr Glenn walked back behind his desk and pulled a tissue out of a box on the desk top and offered it to Julie.

"Here you are, Julie. Blow your nose and wipe your eyes, it’s all over now!"

Julie accepted it gratefully. But although the caning might have been over the stinging certainly wasn’t! As the teenager sniffed away her tears, Mr Glenn was making the necessary entry in his Punishment Book. When he had completed this task he reminded her that she was to hand in one hundred lines to him tomorrow and told her to return to Miss Osbourne’s class. He also warned her that if she was ever sent to him again she would realise how lightly she’d been let off this time!

As soon as she was outside the door Julie stood still and clamped her hands to the seat of her school skirt. Then she started to walk back towards her classroom, slowly!

Walking normally was painful, her knickers rubbing onto the weals causing intense shooting pains. Julie found that by taking smaller steps the pain was greatly reduced, but even so she had to stop every so often to rub her bottom. The school corridors were mostly deserted, but as Julie paused outside her classroom for a final rub a small boy, eleven or twelve years old, suddenly appeared, carrying a note. He grinned at the sight of the naughty eighteen year old girl with an obviously very sore bottom, rubbed his own in mockery, and disappeared. Julie had never been so mortified.

She knocked on her classroom door and went in. Miss Osbourne looked up.

"What happened, Julie?" she enquired.

"I got caned, miss. Six strokes miss," whispered Julie. A girl sniggered.

"Lisa!" thundered Miss Osbourne, "Stand up, girl!" Lisa stood. Miss Osbourne turned back to Julie. "I’m sorry," she said kindly, "but you know we had no choice after your recent behaviour. I hope it’s taught you a lesson. Now go to your place!"

Julie sat down very slowly and carefully, aware that everyone was watching her. It took her three attempts but she managed to sit down, although it was evident that she was still in some discomfort.

Miss Osbourne turned to Lisa and said: "Well, Lisa, so you think being caned is funny do you? What about getting the slipper, is that funny too?"

"No, miss," replied Lisa sheepishly.

"Well, let’s see!" Miss Osbourne removed a plimsoll from a drawer of her desk and beckoned Lisa out. Unlike Julie, Lisa was not wearing school uniform and she took her slippering on the seat of a rather tight pair of greyish-blue trousers. Miss Osbourne was still upset that Julie had had to be caned and rather took it out on poor Lisa, who was an habitual trouble maker, giving her a dozen solid whacks. She bore the infliction in silence but there was certainly no sign of amusement on her face as she made her way back to her place afterwards.

Mike

Jane's spanking

Back in the days when the internet felt like it was powered by steam usenet newsgroup were the place to find stories. Here is a story that was published in one of the personal groups. I'm guessing it is a real life account going by the content.

During the 1970's I lived in the New Eltham area of South London. This part of Greenwich Borough could be classed a 'leafy' suburb of a mainly industrial region there being many large engineering works along the river side giving way in places to the many tourist attractions. This year, 1999 we see the building of the millennium dome where a large 'gas works and tar production plant used to be not to mention the age old attractions of the zero meridian line of longitude, the Old Royal Observatory, the Cutty Sark clipper ship, the Royal Naval College and of course the famous Palace and Park.

When I got married in 1972 (for the first time) my wife and I, Caroline, bought a house along the main road leading from Eltham High Street to Sidcup. The style of these housed ranged from the semi-Victorian through to 1980 modern style but many were built in the mid to late 1930's and were of the bay window semi-detached variety. They were quite large, even by today's standards having a lounge of some 13' x 12' and a dining room of similar size.

We moved in next to a nice family comprising of mum, dad, a son and daughter. Mum was called Jane. She was 10 years older than me at 34 and Rob, her husband was another 10 years older at 44. The children were Mathew and Jeanette aged 11 and 13 respectively. Jane was a 'housewife' and Rob worked as a Management Consultant for British Rail.

After about five years Jane decided that she was going to get a part time job as the children were about to leave school and go their separate ways. She started to work as a sales assistant at a local department store but soon became the manager's PA (or dogs-body).

Let me try to describe Jane. She stood about 5'6" tall and was fairly slim, not skinny, and wore rather sombre clothes – a bit 'mumsey' really. Although not a raving beauty she was quite attractive in a mature kind of way: remember I was 29 and she was 39. I often called in for coffee during the day and we had lots of little chats about the price of eggs and how to put the world to rights etc. This was possible because I was self-employed and ran a 'Garage' business and because of us being neighbours I serviced her car (Rob wouldn't drive – he could but didn't like it).

I remember on one occasion, I think it was Just before her 40th birthday party we were in her kitchen drinking coffee, the time was about 11:30 and she had recently returned from a shopping trip in Bexleyheath. She started to tell me about a group of children who were playing about on skateboards in the multi-storey car park. Apparently one of the boys had collided with a shopping trolley and the contents had spilled over the car-park deck. Jane shouted at one of the lads to be more careful in future and she told me all she got in return was swearing and rude gestures.I said that I considered that there was no real discipline in schools today and if you actually clouted one of them you would probably end up in court on a charge of GBH or something. Jane agreed with my comments and went on to say that she went to a convent school in Suffolk and the teachers, many of whom were nuns, would rap the girl's knuckles with a wooden ruler for being cheeky. She added that on many occasions she saw a girl cry when given two strokes of a short cane across the palm of the hands.

I asked if she had ever received the cane and she admitted that she was given the stick across her hands on two separate occasions, quite minor infringements but she said it stung like mad and made her dance around the classroom holding her hands under her armpits to try to stop the stinging. I told her that when I was at school the cane was used often but not flippantly. I described how, one day, a classmate was showing another boy his cigarette lighter. He flipped the lid and it burst into flames because petrol had leaked out and down the side of the case. He quickly dropped it on the floor and started to jump on the flames to put them out.

Mr. Frobisher, the music teacher who was taking the class, sprang to his feet shouting at Brian "What the hell do think you're doing BOY!" He went over to Brian and dragged him from the desk. After the flames had died down we could smell the stench of petrol fumes and soot. Mr. Frobisher told Brian to get the lighter and then to go to the Headmaster and get the cane and punishment book. We all knew that Brian was going to get a beating so we sat very quiet and got on with our work as though nothing had happened.

Brian returned with the school cane. It was about two feet long and had a slight curve along its length where it had landed across many bottoms in the past. Mr. Frobisher opened the punishment book and spoke aloud as he wrote in it. "Brian Atkins, 5T, setting fire to a school desk." "I didn't set fire to it – it was an accident – I didn't meant to do it." Pleaded Brian. Old man Frobisher calmly carried on taking no notice of Brian, "six strokes across posterior, date June 14th 1961"

Frobisher looked about the room and then swung the stick about. It hit one of the lamps hanging from the ceiling with a 'clang!' He ordered Brian to go next door to the school hall. We all ran to the side windows and door and peered inside. Brian was told to bend over and touch his toes and as he did so Frobisher jumped in the air and brought the can down across Brian's backside with such a force that Brian jumped at least two foot in the air grabbing his bottom as he did so. Frobisher landed five more strokes of the cane in an identical manner and Brian was screaming and sobbing all through the beating. This episode was the talk of the school until we broke up some four weeks later. Brian was off school for two days and when he returned he showed us the marks that Frobisher had put on his bottom. They were blue around the edges and raised enough that you could feel the ridges.

I sensed Jane was intrigued at my story by the way she started to fidget about and I also noticed she rubbed her bottom through her skirt as I described Brian leaping in the air. I asked her if she had ever had the cane across her backside and she said that she had never been caned at school but her dad had spanked her a few times with his hand and a slipper once and that hurt. She added that one night at school, it was a boarding school, two of the girls in her dorm' brought a garden cane from the village and hid it on top of one of the wardrobes. Claire, one of the girls got the cane down and ordered Margaret and Sue to hold another girl face down across the dormitory table. When Brenda was in position Claire pulled the girl's dress up and caned her bottom about six or seven times. Jane said that Claire was one of the school's bullies and everyone tried to keep out of their way this time most of the girls said that Claire had gone too far and they were going to tell the Head in the morning. Jane said that she turned away from Claire and went towards her bed, as she bent down to pick up her nightdress Claire lashed the cane across her bottom. Jane said that it stung like mad and she remembers rubbing her bottom for a good half hour after and she saw in the mirror that there was a red stripe running from one cheek to the other with a slight blue tinge at the end where the tip had dug into the flesh.

She went on to tell me that although she herself had never been caned the Head, in her study, had caned several of her classmates. She remembered that punishments were usually given either before school started or after prep. If a punishment was to be given in the morning the girl had to be present outside the Head's study at 8:00am wearing summer uniform which was a cotton gingham button through dress, bra and white pants. If it was to be an evening punishment they had to go to the teacher's common room at 8:00pm dressed in their P.E. kit. Apparently punishments were always given whilst the girl was bent over a chair and always across their pants, never bare.The next thing that Jane said rather shocked me. "Don't tell anyone this Steve will you?" "If you say so… What's the secret then?" I said, intrigued by her remark. "Well… After Claire hit me with her cane I began to wonder what it must be like to be caned across the bottom. When girls had to go to the Head to be punished I always tried to be near the study door so I could hear the cane and the girls cry out."

"That sounds as though you were a little scared to do something that warranted a caning." "Oh no… not at all it was just that mummy and daddy would be very annoyed and disappointed if I had to punished by the Head." "Why don't you ask Rob to spank you?" I suggested. "I couldn't do that… I'd be embarrassed to ask him… He'd think I'd gone mad or kinky or something."I thought about offering to deal with her fantasy but as time was getting on and my wife was due home soon I simply said that we would have to continue this chat another time. Jane said that she would like that because she could talk to me easier than she could Rob (She reckoned he was a bit 'stuffy'). I walked towards the front door and was about to open it when Jane pushed past me and put her hand over the Yale lock so I couldn't turn it. She turned and looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Remember… Not a word about what we have been talking about… Ok!" I looked straight back at her and said, "Or what Jane?" and as I spoke I drew my right hand back and slapped her across the seat of her skirt. "Ouch!" she gasped. "That's for thinking I would say something… Now if you will excuse me I have to get back to the garage or they will think I've got lost."I saw Jane quite frequently over the following weeks, although we never spoke about that 'little chat' we had every time I caught her eye she would give me a little smile.

It was getting on for the end of September and the nights were starting to close in and the weather was getting a little colder. One Thursday Jane knocked and Caroline let her in. "Hi Jane." I shouted from the kitchen, "I'm just making a cup of coffee… or you can have tea if you want?" "Coffee will be fine." She shouted back as she accompanied Caroline into the lounge.

I brought the tray of drinks in and placed them on the table and as I did Caroline said that it was Rob's fiftieth birthday the following Saturday and could we come to the party she and the kids were organizing. She hoped to keep it a surprise party so she doesn't was anyone spilling the beans to Rob. "Would I do something like that? Really Jane… You've really hurt me now." I mockingly said.

Anyway, the Saturday came and the party was in full swing with the young ones in the lounge with their music, the older ones standing about the dining room and kitchen drinking beer and wine bragging about their holidays, decorations, gardens, cars and whatever else there is to chat about.I wandered out into the garden where Rob was talking to Caroline about his roses. Rob always pruned our roses and looked after our front garden. Apparently he loved roses and as we had lots he took it upon himself to look after them. This, I think, was because I kept threatening to concrete the lawn to park out cars on it so Rob took care of the plants so I didn't have to. As I was saying, Rob and Caroline were chatting about roses and other plants, beans were mentioned I think... but who cares. I turned to Jane and asked if she had any thoughts about our previous chat. She looked about to see if anybody was nearby and said that she had thought about nothing else since then and felt relieved that somebody else knew her secret. Glancing around again she added that she often felt like asking Rob to be a little 'adventurous' in bed but kept backing out.

We were standing on the edge of the lawn ant the bottom of their 150-foot garden. We were well out of sight of the house and hidden by an 6-foot high privet hedge that separated the 'garden' from the vegetable plot. As I looked down I noticed a bamboo cane sticking out of the ground near a small plant of some kind. It was near to my right hand so I grabbed hold of it and pulled it from the ground. I tapped the end on my shoe to remove most of the dried earth and then walked over to the hedge and wiped the remainder from the tip. Whilst I was doing this Jane had her back to me and was still looking at the trees silhouetted against the night sky. I walked back to where Jane was standing, keeping the cane out of sight, and stood by her right side. We stood there for about another five or six minutes. I don't know what she was thinking but I was waiting for her to move into a position where I had a clear swing with the cane towards her backside.

I didn't have to wait too long for Jane turned to her left and took a step forward. This left me with the room I had been waiting for and without further ado I swiftly swung the cane, hoping my aim was right. 'Slap' it went as it landed across the centre of her skirt. "Ah!" Jane gasped as she spun around to face me with her right hand rubbing her backside. "I wasn't expecting that… That stings."Jane continued rubbing her backside for about three or four minutes and then smiled at me and said, "You know Steve… Although it stung when you hit me it feels warm and tingly now… Especially when I rub my hands over where it landed." "What are you going to tell Rob when you get into bed tonight?" I asked. "Nothing… I wear a long nightdress and he never asks me to take it off… So I guess it's still a secret then Steve… Eh!"

I put the cane back in the ground where I had taken it from and accompanied Jane back to the house where Rob had just opened a couple of bottles of bubbly. We all sang 'Happy Birthday' and 'For he's a jolly good fellow' and Rob made a speech of sorts and gradually the party fizzled out around 2:30am. Jane never mentioned anything about what went on at the top of the garden the night of Rob's birthday party but she still smiled at me whenever we caught each other's gaze.

Caroline and I went off to Tenerife for the last week in October and when we got back we were clearing the garden of leaves and dead flowers etc. when Jane called over the fence. "Hey you two, I'm just making a drink… shall I bring you one out?" "That's nice of you… Thanks!" Caroline replied. Jane handed us both a cup of coffee through the trellis. When we had finished I called back to Jane who was still sweeping the patio. She came over to take the empty cups from me and asked if I would call in on Tuesday afternoon as there seemed to be something wrong with the car. I offered to go in now, just to get out of the gardening, but she insisted that it must be Tuesday – about two to two fifteen – she said that Rob was going on one of his hiking expeditions and she was at work on the Monday so the earliest it could be was Tuesday.

Tuesday came and I knocked at her door before I went to work hoping I could save some time by taking it with me to sort out. Jane answered the door and said that she needed the car during the morning but if it was too much trouble… I cut her short and told her that there was no problem I just thought I could save her some time by sorting things out sooner rather than later.

Caroline was working that day so when I got home for lunch the house was empty. I made myself a ham sandwich and grabbed a coffee. Two o'clock came and I waited another five minutes, mustn't look too eager, and went and knocked at Jane's door. She answered the door very quickly and said as she opened it, "I saw you go home… I thought you might come straight round." I walked into the hallway and I sensed she was slightly nervous. "Is everything alright Jane?" I asked her. "Yes… Yes… nothing's wrong. It probably me… you know… Go into the lounge Steve I'll be with you in a moment.

I heard Jane go into the dining room and then I heard sounds as though she was moving furniture about. "Do you want a hand Jane." I shouted. "No… It's all right… I can manage. Anyway I've done it now… in more was than I thought I would have." "Sorry… I didn't get that." "Doesn't matter Steve you soon will… Stay there I'll be in soon."

'Strange conversation' I thought! 'Never mind she'll tell me all about it soon enough'… Jane came into the lounge and stood in the centre of the room. She was wearing black high heeled shoes, blue tights or stockings (I couldn't tell) a neat light blue patterned skirt that rested just below the knee and a white long sleeve blouse that was tucked into the waistband of the skirt. "You're looking smart today Jane, going or coming?" I enquired. "Stopping I hope Steve." She replied. "Do you remember our little chat a couple of months ago?" "If it's what I think you're talking about then yes I do… Has this got anything to do with what I did at Rob's party?" I went on to say.

Her reply rather shook me. "I want you to give me six strokes of the cane across my bottom Steve." After a long pause I said, "Are you sure you want me to do it… If Caroline ever found out she would hit the roof… Anyway it would hurt too much and you would want me to stop after the first two… No... I don't think so Jane." "Please Steve… Please… You are the only one who has spoken with me about this and you are the only person I feel I can trust… Please… I promise I won't cry out for you to stop… Honestly…"

I looked her up and down and suddenly I saw a different Jane standing there. The Jane I was used to was a loving mum and a devoted wife. She always gave out the vibes of being slightly upper class; 'snooty' my gran would have called her. This Jane was asking for her bottom to be struck with a piece of bamboo cane, she was dressed a little provocatively but sober, rather business-like! "Alright then… Where shall we do this?" I asked. "Come into the other room Steve." I followed her into the dining room. I noticed that the table had been moved over to the far wall and one of the chairs was placed in the centre of the floor. On the coffee-table was a Bamboo garden cane about 2'6" long and about 6 to 8 mm in diameter. It looked new, was clean and appeared to be polished. Jane went over to the cane and picked it up. She ran her fingers along its length and then bent it into a curve. "I took care in picking this cane Steve… I wasn't sure how long or how thick it should be but I did know that it shouldn't have any sharp bits or be split anywhere."

She came over and handed me the cane. I took it and swished it through the air a couple of times and as I did so I saw Jane flinch and rub her backside through her skirt. "Do you want me to tell you what to do or have you decided on how you want this caning." I asked. "I'm not sure Steve… I've thought about this… even planned it, but now I think you should tell me what to do… I won't argue… Promise I won't."

I told her to turn around and touch her toes. Jane quickly turned, smoothed her hands down her skirt and slightly bending her knees she bent forward and pointed her fingers towards her shoes. "Good… That's a nice backside there Jane… Very spankable!" I place the palm of my right hand on her right buttock and gently rubbed it slowly moving to the left. I could feel the tightness of her skin and through the cloth I could feel the waistband of a suspender belt and the outline of her panties where they cover the bottom cheeks. I moved my hand further down her thigh and felt the actual suspender where it curved around to meet the top of her stockings.

Jane started to move her bottom a little whilst I was stroking it. "Is that nice Jane?" I asked. "Yes it really is… Rob has never touched me like that." "Ok… Stand up and bend over the chair please. Grab the sides of the seat and keep your legs shoulder width apart before you bend over."She stood up and walked across to the chair that she put there earlier. As before she slid her hands down the sides and back of her skirt and positioned her shoes about 15" apart. Her skirt was pulled up slightly as she leaned over the chair back and grabbed the sides of the seat cushion. "Are you sure you want me to do this Jane." I asked before I did something she would regret. "Steve… Do it otherwise I shan't have the courage to ask again." "Ok…Wait for it… This will hurt."

I stepped back and to the left of where Jane was bent over. I looked at her bottom sticking out waiting to be struck with the bamboo cane I held, the cane that Jane had bought especially for me to do this to her. I placed the cane on her skirt and raised it then placed it back on the same place just to make sure it would land where I wanted it. "I don't think is going to be too successful Jane." I said placing the cane back across her skirt. "Your skirt is a bit bunched and you won't feel it as you should." I continued.

"I'll pull it straight across my bottom for you then." She stood up and pulled at the material so there was only one layer across her knickers and then bent over the chair placing her hands on the seat again. She glanced back at me and gave a smile saying, "I'm ready Steve… Do your worst."

I didn't need no more prompting. Here was a forty-year-old housewife and mum, bent over a dining chair with her bottom in the air waiting for a caning. I took aim, raised the cane above my head and brought it crashing down across both buttocks. Her skirt took most of the force because although it was only a single thickness of material it was still slightly loose. Jane winced a little and gave a low hiss through her teeth and then wiggled her bottom cheeks a little.

She stayed down in position waiting for the next stroke but had decided on something else. "Stand up Jane." I ordered. She stood up and slid her hands across her bottom. "That's enough of that… No touching until I've finished Jane." She quickly took her hands away and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Sorry Steve… What do you want me to do?"

"Pull your skirt up to your waist and then get back into position." I told her. "I'm only wearing panties underneath, you will see everything!" "Nothing I haven't seen before Jane." I replied. "Maybe Steve but not my everything." "Stop messing about Jane and lift your skirt or I'll give you an extra dose for fun."

I was amused by Jane's antics. She lifted the skirt and turned away so I wouldn't see her pubic hair through the sheer nylon panties she was wearing. Then as she bent over she realized that I might see her vagina from the rear so she adjusted the pants so they covered the cheeks a little more instead of being stretched between her legs. Soon she was back in position and I could clearly see a red mark showing through the panties where the first stroke had landed. I walked over and placed my hand on her panties and rubbed the mark and as I did I felt a ridge along its length.

I got back to her left side again and gave her another hard stinging cut across both cheeks, slightly lower this time and as it landed her skin rippled and dipped along the cane's length then resumed the silky roundness under the panties. Jane let out a loud yell and lifted her legs up and down to try to ease the pain. Her right hand came round to her bottom but stopped just before it touched any skin. "Ow, Ow, OW!" she yelled while still wiggling about.

I went over to her and straightened her up and told her to stay still and in position because if she moved about too much I might catch her legs and I would certainly give her two extra strokes for moving. I turned to walk away then stopped. I turned back and pulled her panties down to the backs of her knees. "Steve… Please don't cane me on my bare bottom." "Too late, you should have thought about that before we started now stay still."

I adjusted my position back to her left and quickly laid on two more strokes across her trembling bottom. I glanced at her face as she turned towards me and I could see she was starting to cry. "Now you know how those girls felt when your Headteacher caned them." "Yes, Yes Steve… It really hurts… but it is funny feeling bent over here knowing you can see everything I've got and I can't do anything about it."

"Four more to come Jane… Get ready because these will really sting and hurt." And with that I rapidly gave her two strokes across the tops of her thighs, just below her bottom cheeks. Her knees bent slightly and then straightened. She appeared to stick her bottom out and straighten her legs more firmly as she waited for the last two strokes. I took careful aim and brought the first down across the fullness of her left buttock and as it landed I saw the tip spring around to the right thigh and bounce off but not before she let out a real cry of pain. She jumped up and grabbed her bottom with both hands, rubbing furiously to try to ease the sting the cane had imparted in her nether regions. She hopped about and continued to cry; the tears were swelling up and were starting to run down her cheeks. "Get back Jane I still have one more stroke to give you."

She meekly went back to the chair continuing to rub her bottom on the way. She looked at me standing there with the cane in my hand then realized that her knickers were hanging around her ankles. She bent down and pulled them up as though she were going to put them on then stopped and looked up and said, "Shall I leave them around my knees or take them off completely?"

"It doesn't really matter Jane after all I have now seen you as nobody else has ever seen you… Just stand about three feet away from the chair and place your hands on the back of it." Jane pushed her panties down to her knees and leaned forward to the chair back. Her hair fell loosely about her neck as she glanced round. She pushed her legs straight and shuffled her shoes apart and as her legs parted I saw a little of her pubic hair show. The red stripes were turning into weals with definite ridges to them – obviously sore and plainly uncomfortable.

"Steve…" She said pausing briefly to get her breath, "Steve… I know this is the last one but will you cane me twice more in this position… Perhaps I shouldn't say this but although my bottom is sore if want to find out if I can take ten strokes after all I should be able to… I am an adult now not a child."

"Alright Jane… These three will be as hard as I dare cane you… Get ready!" I brought the can whistling down to land with a 'crack', she lurched and sucked in a breath, steadied herself and I landed the second of the three. She lurched again and shuffled her feet to steady herself again. I went over and stroked her very red and striped bottom and as I placed my hand on her right cheek she moaned and said, "Please Steve… Give me the last one as hard as you can… I think I can take it."

I carefully took aim and brought the stick down with all the force I dare give it and I must have misjudged it because it landed low on her left buttock cheek and whipped around to mark the top of her right thigh leaving a red stripe that disappeared under her stocking suspender. She let out a scream and stood up grasping her right leg. Her panties were down at her ankles again and she was rubbing her leg furiously.

"Sorry about that last one Jane… It's no good saying I didn't want to hurt you because that is the whole point of the exercise but…" She stopped me by walking over to me, looked me straight in the eyes and said. "Thank you Steve… Thank you." She then gave me a kiss on the lips. I felt a little awkward because I didn't give her a beating so we might have a sexual encounter afterwards. I knew that she could feel that I had an erection through my trousers and felt doubly awkward about that also.

"I know what you would like Steve." She said as she tugged at my belt; it came undone easily and then she slid my zipper open. Reaching inside she fondled my penis and then brought it out and began to rub the foreskin back and forth. "I'll come in a minute if you carry on Jane." "So what Steve… Didn't you notice… I've already come… That's what your caning did for me so I'm simply repaying the favour."

Jane put back on her panties after about half an hour. She changed her stockings for tan tights and put on a pair of black 'court' shoes. "Can't look too dressed up when the kids get home can I now?"Shortly before five I made my excuses and left. Jane asked me to cane her twice more since then but I haven't seen or spoken to her since she and Rob moved away – not too far only about three miles but since then I've moved from SE. London to Chichester and there is no valid reason to resume contact – unless she wants another caning but as she is now about 63 years old I don't know whether she would want one...

Steven Walsh