Bringing Her On

Story from Swish Vol.7 No.4.

Bringing Her On

The continuation of the story "Taken In Hand"

Going off on a business trip abroad, Adrienne's husband left her and their nineteen-year-old daughter in the care of an old friend, Colonel Carrington, who was 'to see to them'. Which he has been doing very effectively – as their two hot-tingling bottoms have learned....

* * *

"Dashed nuisance that I have to go off tomorrow, my dear. I did promise that I'd stay till your nearest and dearest was back, but business calls. Frightfully sorry", said Colonel Carrington as he drove Adrienne back from a brief shopping trip after lunch.

"Yes", Adrienne said vaguely. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't find the words. She felt ashamed, delighted, tormented and pleasured all at once at what had occurred in the past week since he had stayed with them. – "Let him have whatever he wants", her husband had told her, and Adrienne had agreed with that quiet submissiveness that he loved. Her bottom had wriggled so often to the tawse and the cane in the last twenty years that she knew she could no longer do without them. There had been a mad time once, when she had first got married, when her husband and the Colonel had warmed-up their wives' bottoms together in the same room and had then shafted them manfully while they had moaned and wriggled.

She had never been allowed to forget that – the ultimate surrender – and now in the past few days the Colonel had got Wendy into training, and Adrienne knew that she had not objected as strongly as she should have done.

"Her bottom has to come to it", she had been told. The funny thing was that Wendy had reacted just as she herself had first done – the kickings, the struggles, the outraged yelps and cries.... and then all those gradually dying away a little as the firm, authoritarian hold on her continued.

Was Wendy beginning to LIKE it, or was she just allowing herself to yield to it? Maybe it was the same thing in the end. – "She has smartened up a lot in the past week – have you noticed?", Adrienne heard the Colonel asking as they paused at traffic lights. Even as he spoke he seemed to be answering her own thoughts. – "Yes, I suppose...", Adrienne began hesitantly, but then pulled herself together. It was true, after all. – "She has more self-awareness, Adrienne, and that is good for her. Her bottom is prouder than it was – just as yours once became".

"Yes, I know, but you DID cane her hard – that first time", Adrienne responded, and flushed as she spoke. He had locked her in the bedroom while he attended to Wendy. She could still hear Wendy's sobs and howls, her pleading cries, and then that odd, broken note coming into her voice as she was brought on to it. At least Wendy hadn't uttered a single word of complaint to her. Adrienne had expected fierce outbursts – but no. Like mother, like daughter, perhaps.

"She came through it, Adrienne. At the last stroke she hung whimpering over the chair. She made to slide back down, but I told her to stay, and she did. I admired her for that. I carried her up, put her into bed and gave her a gentle kiss. I kissed her tears away". – "Don't....", Adrienne said quickly. – "She rolled over on her side and lay quietly", the Colonel went on as if Adrienne had not spoken. "Her very first caning, too. She has been spanked before?", he asked. Adrienne said "Oh, yes, well....", and then stopped. – "Yes, I thought so. Her bottom was just a little responsive. A good thing that", the Colonel said cheerfully. There was a silence then as they drove on, and then he said quietly, "You know you love what you have to have, Adrienne. I remember how you used to blush and how the tip of your tongue would peep out when you were made to stand up straight and your knickers were rolled down".

"Tom, don't! Look, tonight..." – "Yes, tonight", he replied cheerfully, "I've already told Wendy that I want her in her outfit". – "And? And what did she say?", jerked Adrienne, compressing her lips. – "She said nothing, my dear. In the case of young ladies, silence implies consent, I believe. It is not a subject we need discuss any further. As to yourself...."

"I don't want to hear about it", Adrienne said quickly. – "Surely", he replied smoothly and then changed the subject so that he had her unguardedly laughing minutes later. Everything would be all right, she thought; he was going tomorrow. But the cane would stay – waiting.... Her mood changed again and she said brightly, "I thought we might go out tonight – the three of us". – " Uh-huh? But I have to pack, my dear, and – er – see to things", he answered. – "Well, then I might go out. Perhaps I'll take Wendy to a movie while you're packing", Adrienne said with a slight bite in her voice that made him smile inwardly. Adrienne knew damned well, he thought, that she was going to get the cane, too, tonight...

So, of course, did Wendy. From the moment she had been told to wear her 'outfit', she knew it. That very short black pleated skirt, the self-supporting black nylons, the six-inch high heels that gave her bottom such a pert lift, and that white, semi-transparent blouse which showed the shadowy impression of her nipples. He would cane her harder if she didn't. He hadn't said so, but she knew he would. And it was no use complaining now; it was far too late for that.

After supper she went up to the bathroom and stayed in their for almost half an hour, trembling in anticipation of what was to be. Her mother had said she was going out. – "No, I don't want to come", Wendy had said half sullenly when the pictures had been suggested. "I'm stupid, I ought to go", she told herself desperately as she finally slid into her bedroom. Her 'strict outfit', as the Colonel called it, didn't include any panties. Passing her tongue over her dry lips, Wendy slipped her things off and stood hesitant before her mirror before she half-dolefully sat on her bed and began sleeking on her black stockings.

"Wendy – are you coming?", her mother's voice called. – "No", Wendy replied curtly. It was all her mother's fault for letting it happen – for letting herself be caned as well. When she heard the front door slam, Wendy quickened her movements. Oh God, get it over with, she thought. Ten minutes later when she hesitantly descended, her ultra high heels spiking into the carpet, he waited for her smiling.

"There's my good girl", he greeted her, surveying her from the tips of her polished shoes, slowly upwards where the rims of her pale thighs showed, and up to her tip-tilted breasts which the blouse so clearly outlined. Wendy swallowed and blushed as his eyes caressed her. – "You feel proud in coming to it, my dear, and you know you do", the Colonel said. Wendy bit her lip and made to take a step back as he picked up the waiting cane, but then stood still.

"I don't", she mumbled rebelliously and dropped her eyes. His hand reached out for her own smaller, warm one and drew her forward. – "You don't slouch any more, Wendy", he said admiringly while she stood silent, her eyes downcast. – "Get it over with!", her voice sang in her head, feeling the naughtiness of her naked bottom under her brief skirt, the pleated hem waiting to be lifted. – "You don't, Wendy? You mean you have put panties on – for instance?", he asked in a slightly warning tone.

Her gulp was audible then and she shook her head. The blue carpet stared back up at her. I should have gone with Mummy, she thought desperately. – "You may take off your blouse now", she heard and uttered a startled "What?", yet the moment the word left her pretty lips, the Colonel moved with astonishing speed. One moment he was standing and holding her hand and then next he was sitting. One moment Wendy was standing – nubile and yet a little awkward as she looked – and the next she was sprawled over his lap with her glossy round bottom bared and his palm descending on the quivering cheeks.

"I said...." SMACK! "that you may...." SMACK! "take your blouse...." SMACK! "off now" – SMACK! SMACK!

"YOW-OW!" wailed Wendy at each blasting descent of his palm that sent fire flaring into her pert bottom. Her hips bucked wildly, but with one arm twisted behind her, she was pinned down securely. "BOO-HOO-HOOO!", Wendy sobbed babyishly and then was thrust just as quickly on to her feet where she stood working her hips, her skirt tipped up at one side, baring her hip, and tears sheening her eyes. "OOOH-WOOOH-WOOH!", she howled, holding her blasted bottom cheeks.

"OFF! It is a primary lesson, my girl, that once you have donned your strict outfit, you do as you are told. Now, OFF with it, or else..." – "All right, all right!", Wendy sobbed. Her pink-painted nails stammered at the pearl buttons, twisting them open one by one until she could sheathe off the white blouse, her plump tits bobbing above his eyes, the nipples brown on the milky gourds.

"There, you see.... simple. Now the skirt, please", the Colonel uttered and stood up making her back away. – "My.... my skirt...?", asked Wendy desperately, to gain time. – "Your lovely bottom is already naked, my dear. What is the difference?" As he spoke, so he picked up the cane, making Wendy utter a plaintive "OHH!". Scrabbling at her zip, she let her skirt cascade to her ankles and stepped out of it daintily, the fur of her pubic bush showing in a dark plump triangle against the flawless skin of her tummy. Her lips worked, producing a little mewing sound as the Colonel walked slowly around her, admiring every wondrous dip and curve of her ripe young figure. His eyes dwelt on her slightly swollen titties and the pert, pale plum of her adorable bottom with its strawberries-and-cream hue.

"Forward now and bend over the arm of the sofa", he murmured, tapping her impertinent bottom lightly with the cane. The floor then seemed to sway and dip under her feet as she did so. It wasn't the first time that Wendy had been over the arm of the sofa, but never with her tits naked as well. Positioning herself fretfully but delicately, she heard the admiring inhissing of the Colonel's breath as she exposed her total girlishness to him, the fig of her cunny peeping under her cleft bottom.

Now was the moment – the moment of her true initiation, the Colonel thought. It was now up to him to prepare her for the exquisitely sensuous pleasures of her future. As carefully as he slid down the zip of his flies, even so Wendy's ears caught the sound and she buried her face in her hands and waited. – "There is an afterwards, Wendy, you know", her mother had murmured to her all too vaguely the day before, but Wendy knew what she meant. Her eyes had not missed the horny projection that the exposure of her bottom always aroused.

The cane swooped and fell. She heard its quick swish and then clenched her teeth as it seared across her offered derriere. For a long moment nothing but the flames absorbed her, but the shrill cry that came up from her throat was many decibels lower than it would have been a week before. Her hips jiggled and swung, but then with a massive effort she stilled them, pressing her tummy down into the firm but slightly yielding material that rolled beneath her. With a start she felt the cane sidle up between her knees and force them apart. Then she knew why. – "Only two more, Wendy, you've been a good girl, and I've already spanked you, after all. Push it up now – let me see you", she heard and, with tears sparkling in her lovely eyes, heard that awful SWEEE-ISSH again and yelped, jiving her hips wildly and making the sofa bump.

The Colonel waited long until she was still again. Her bubbling sobs sounded quite adorable. – "Just one more, Princess, and then you're going to get what you've so nearly had before. Isn't that right?", asked the Colonel slyly. – "Oho, I never.... YEEE-OW-WER!", Wendy ripped as the promised one came in. This time she had no chance to jive her hips, for even as the cane swung so it was loosed and fell with a faint clatter to the carpet and her would-be wriggling curves were seized.

"GOOO-WER!" came Wendy's last explosive cry. Something like a huge plum was easing up between her melting cuntlips, expanding them as the throbbing stave drove in until the hot butterball of her bottom was rammed tightly into his belly, grinding wildly against his skin as their mingling moans of desire filled the otherwise silent drawing room. – "You... you lovely little bitch!", the Colonel ground out. "Oh yes, oh yes – come on!" Wendy sobbed.

It was quiet when Adrienne let herself in at eleven that night. Almost too quiet, but everything was tidy except for the ruffled cushions on the sofa. Tiptoeing upstairs, she cautiously opened Wendy's door and peeped in. The room was itself as silent as a tomb. Adrienne frowned as she saw Wendy's naked breasts peeping over the top of the sheet. Why on earth hadn't she put her nightdress on and – heavens! – a toe was thrust out from under the bedclothes and it was black. She had gone to bed with her stockings on, of all things! Yet Wendy looked so peaceful and with such a beatific and relaxed expression on her face that Adrienne decided not to disturb her. She closed the door silently again.

Those stockings, though.... and no nightie on. Compressing her lips, Adrienne went into the front bedroom and found him, as she expected, lying in waiting for her. – "Look, I want to know.,..", she began.

"Get your clothes off and get into bed, Adrienne", he snapped, and sat up. The cane lay alongside him, she saw. Hastily Adrienne closed the door. – "Listen, Tom, I don't want to wake Wendy, but...". – "There are no buts, Adrienne. You know how your husband feels about disobedience. I don't want to have to report on you badly do I? Mission completed and all that y'know. Get INTO bed!"

Only the next morning did Adrienne wonder why she had obeyed so meekly, but that was the way it always was now. "Were you all right last night?", she asked Wendy after breakfast when the Colonel was preparing to depart. – "Oh, lovely, Mummy – yes – honestly", Wendy replied. Her mother would hopefully never know how all-right she had been, but one thing was certain.

Never again, Wendy thought, was she going to refuse the cane.... or a spanking..... She had put her 'strict outfit' away carefully that morning. All folded neatly in a drawer. After all, she might need it again sometime. One never knew. But she decided to keep that to herself, too....