Jilly

Story from Janus 35.

Jilly
by Andrew Grantham

JILLY looked down at the flowers in the carpet. From her position, she had an excellent view of the closely-woven pattern. It wasn't the first time she had been in that position – with her blonde tresses brushing the floor and her fingertips touching the toes of her black, shiny, high-heeled shoes. It wouldn't be the last time either! Jilly's record at St Mary's High School was vastly different to that of her elder sister. Julie had made it all the way to the top and she had become Head Girl in her final year.

By sharp, and painful, contrast Jilly became known as the Bottom Girl – for the obvious reason! Here she was, about to have her arse scorched yet again by Mr Rogerson!

Her heart beat faster as she felt her skirt being raised and tucked in around her trim waist.

She knew it was going to be a bare bum caning. Mr Rogerson allowed a girl to retain her knicks only on the occasion of her first beating. After that, knicks were dropped to the ankles.

It wasn't that the thin material offered any protection. It was part of the deterrent – a bare bum caning being the ultimate punishment at St Mary's. Jilly felt his warm hands on her flesh as he took hold of the elasticated top of her skimpy briefs. Soon, they were fluttering down her legs to land around her ankles. Now she was all ready for another dose of the cane.

Mr Rogerson however, wasn't quite ready. He had a habit of preparing a girl by uncovering her bottom and then going to fetch the crook-handled cane which hung from a hook behind the door. Whenever an errant girl closed the door of the study she was immediately confronted by the sight of the cane swinging, menacingly, from its perch. Jilly moved her head slightly. She watched Mr Rogerson's feet as they progressed across the carpet, paused at the door and then returned to position themselves to the left of her posterior.

Even though she was about to receive the first stinging cut, she could not help thinking how clean and shiny Mr Rogerson's shoes were.

The feet swayed slightly. Jilly knew that the cane was high in the air. Any moment now!

Whoosh!

Whapp!

Jilly grunted as the cane landed in the centre of the rich moons of her arse.

That was a real stinger all right. Mr Rogerson could certainly lay it on when he wanted to. Jilly knew that he was really going to lay into her backside. Indeed, the Bottom Girl of St Mary's expected nothing less than a good hiding.

The cane dug into her bottom again after Mr Rogerson had judged that the earlier hurt was ebbing away. Suddenly, the pain rose sharply to a new peak.

Jilly's only response was a sharp exhalation of breath, although she could feel the hurt spreading through her. Before Mr Rogerson was finished with her, her young body would be totally engulfed by the searing hurt.

She didn't know just how many strokes she was in for. Gone were the days when she could expect a mere six!

'Oooh!'

The third cut made her cry out and she rocked on the balls of her feet. Her bottom stung like mad. She knew that the three stripes emblazoned across her buttocks would be spaced exactly two centimetres apart. (Mr Rogerson liked to joke about the distance between each stripe, saying that he had gone 'metric'!) There was still plenty of room on Jilly's lovely bottom for lots more strokes!

Crack!

'Youch!'

This time, Jilly's vocal reaction was just a shade higher. She screwed up her eyes as the flaming pain coursed through her body. Her bottom wriggled but she maintained her position.

She opened her eyes again and looked at Mr Rogerson's feet. Jilly was able to tell when the next blow was coming up. Whenever he raised the cane, Mr Rogerson dug his heels into the carpet.

He did just that and she clenched her bum cheeks as she awaited the next stinger from the slender stick. It stung all right. Her arse felt like it had been attacked by an army of wasps!

'Yowch!' she yelled out, her face now contorting with the pain from her rear. Still, she managed to maintain the required stance. However, two strokes later, her knees buckled and she let out a shrill scream. The pain was now acute.

The next cut had her fighting back the tears. She wondered why she wasn't like her elder sister? Eventually, Mr Rogerson's shiny shoes disappeared from her sight. She knew then that he was returning the cane to its place on the back of the door. Still Jilly waited, her bottom ablaze with pain.

Mr Rogerson always ended his sessions in the same way. Ordinarily, it would be just a pat on the bum. On Jilly's angry, corrugated rear however, it was quite a painful blow.

'Ouch!' she cried, waggling her wounded derriere from side to side. The slap caused her almost as much distress as one of the finale strokes of the cane.

'Up you get!' ordered Mr Rogerson brightly.

Jilly pursed her lips as she straightened up, aware that he was gazing at her tuft of pubic hair. She didn't mind in the slightest. He'd seen it lots of times before. And, during the course of her many canings, he must have seen much, much more!

Fully dressed again, Jilly smoothed out her skirt. 'Thank you,' she smiled graciously.

'You're welcome,' replied the teacher as he picked up her bag of shopping and handed it to her. 'Is your husband still working on the rigs?' he enquired.

Jilly nodded. 'He went away last night.'

Mr Rogerson rubbed his hands. 'I'll be seeing to you again before he gets back, I presume?' he asked her with a big smile.

'Yes please,' smiled back the former pupil of St Mary's. 'If you don't mind.'

The Scourging of Sonia

Story from Janus 17.

The Scourging of Sonia
by Andrew Grantham

AFTER a tour of her new school, Sonia said goodbye to her father and carried her belongings to the room she knew she would share with three other girls. The long-legged raven haired beauty had been a pupil at several schools, but al 17 years of age this would be her last.

The door was ajar and she could hear the sound of sobbing from within. She poked her head inside and her eyes opened wide at the sight in front of her. A bare bottom was sticking up in the air. Its owner was kneeling on the bed, her face buried in the bedclothes. Her shoulders heaved with little sobs.

It was easy to see just why the girl was sobbing – her bottom was a mass of fiery, criss-crossing weals!

Two other girls were also present. One was comforting the sobbing girl by patting her on the bare shoulders. The other girl was smoothing cream into the ravaged buttocks.

The girl with the cream, a small-boned attractive brunette looked up and smiled. 'You must be Sonia, our new room-mate.'

'Yes.' Sonia forced a smile in reply.

'Come on in! I'm Beverley. You don't mind if I don't shake hands, do you? I've got them full of cream at the moment.'

The girl comforting the beaten victim turned around and greeted Sonia. She was a tall, leggy blonde. 'Hi!' she smiled. 'I'm Nicola.' Indicating her stricken friend she said, This is Janine.'

Sonia noticed that the girl with the damaged bottom was a redhead, with beautiful short copper curls. She dumped her belongings on the empty bed. 'What happened?' she asked, horrified that such treatment could be inflicted upon young female flesh.

'Janine got a School Punishment,' Beverley informed her as she gently smeared the cream over the redhead's bottom. Janine clenched her bum-cheeks.

'A School Punishment!' echoed Sonia. 'What exactly is that?'

Beverley continued to rub cream into the raised tramlines as she replied to the question: 'It's the worst of all the punishments.'

'Don't talk about it!' pleaded Janine, her voice muffled by the bedclothes. 'I don't want to be reminded!'

The other girls obeyed her wishes.

Sonia moved her belongings into her lockers, assisted by the helpful Nicola.

Beverley continued her tender ministrations with the cream. Once or twice, her fingers inadvertently went a bit too far. It had the effect of turning Janine's sobs into little giggles.

'I'll give you 24 hours to stop,' said the redhead, raising her face from the bedclothes.

Beverley reprimanded her by finding an undamaged area of bottom and giving her a slap.

Janine, her sobbing now subsided, raised herself up and greeted Sonia, 'I suppose it's a bit unusual to see someone's bum before seeing their face,' she chuckled.

All the girls joined in the laughter and Sonia knew that she was going to enjoy pleasant company for the couple of terms remaining before she started at University.

Although it was called a 'mixed' school, the young males and the young females were kept very much apart. Just about the only time they were allowed to meet the opposite sex, officially, was at the twice-daily school assemblies.

The older students naturally had ways of beating the system. Varied were the ruses devised for boy to meet girl. Indeed, the plans put into effect would have done great credit to the wartime inmates of Colditz Castle.

Very soon Sonia had made friends on both sides of the 'barrier' between male and female. Some of the staff she liked and some she loathed. One of the latter was Miss Leathers, the School Matron. She was a great deal younger than most people's conception of School Matrons, being only a few years older than the senior girls themselves.

It appeared that Nicola and Beverley had accidentally tripped her up during a friendly game of hockey and she had never forgiven the two girls over the incident. Because Janine and Sonia were room-mates of the other two, they found themselves being treated in the same way by the young and not unattractive Matron.

'She should have stopped my beating!' complained Janine as the four girls sat around one night discussing the staff in general and Matron in particular. 'That's why she is present at House and School Punishments. It's her job to intervene when we've had enough!'

'What's the difference between a House Punishment and a School Punishment?' Sonia asked again.

There was a silence as the other three girls ail looked at each other. It was Janine who eventually spoke. 'A House Punishment is really terrible, but a School Punishment...!'

Here, the freckled redhead put her face in her hands and scurried to the washroom. Somebody changed the topic of conversation and all talk of punishments ended.

Yet it was not to be very long before Sonia found out exactly what a House Punishment was. Her room-mate, Nicola, was unfortunate enough to be caught in an 'out of bounds' area and was sentenced accordingly by the House Master, Mr Prime.

All the girls sympathised with the luckless blonde, but they knew that all they could do was to offer comfort and soothing cream.

'Miss Leathers will take great delight in this!' fumed Beverley as she accompanied Sonia and Janine to the large School Hall. A little earlier Nicola had made the same but tearful journey on her own, carrying her gym kit under one arm.

When Sonia and Janine reached the Hall, they found they were amongst the first to arrive. Attendance was compulsory, Sonia learned. The girls' names were ticked off on a list by a House Prefect upon their arrival.

It was customary for the friends of the victim to obtain the best positions in front of the stage. This was done purely to deny anyone who did not like the recipient of the punishment, a good view of their discomfort.

Nicola sat alone on the stage in her gym kit, a disconsolate figure as the unwilling spectators trooped in to witness the chastisement.

The sight and sounds of a cane being laid across bare flesh was supposed to act as a deterrent to would-be wrongdoers. But for some of the pupils, and certainly for most of the staff, it caused some considerable pleasure.

Nicola forced a smile for her friends and repeatedly crossed one long leg over the other as the numbers in the Hall began to swell.

Members of the staff started to arrive and they sat, grim-faced, in a semi-circle on the stage.

There was a low murmur around the Hall as everyone waited for the punishment to commence. Sonia's heart went out to her likeable friend and she wondered what was going through Nicola's mind at that moment. The agony of waiting must surely be just as terrible as the pain that would be inflicted.

Miss Leathers appeared on the stage and sat down right next to Nicola. The young Matron, a green-eyed honey blonde had a smug smile on her face. She looked at Nicola who immediately turned and looked the other way.

Beverley nudged Sonia and when she had the tall girl's attention, she whispered to her. 'Mr Prime has been seen coming out of Matron's room late at night!'

Sonia pulled a wry face. 'Had he now? It's a pity he can't be punished for being 'out of bounds',' she hissed in reply.

The low murmur subsided into a still silence as Mr Prime appeared. He was a tall, athletic young man and very good-looking, too. Nicola, who had a crush on him, paled visibly when he appeared. She stopped crossing one leg over the other.

Sonia noticed for the first time that Mr Prime was carrying a long thin wand of rattan. The lovely blue eyes of the trembling blonde on the stage were instantly drawn to the rod that was going to slash into her flesh and cause her acute pain and discomfort.

She dutifully rose to her feet as Mr Prime mounted the steps. Miss Leathers rose, too. She quickly turned around the chair on which Nicola had been sitting so that its back was now to the assembly.

'Nicola Lee!' Mr Prime spoke out in a loud, clear voice. 'In contravention of school rules you deliberately entered an 'out of bounds' area, namely the Senior Boys' Accommodation Block!'

Nicola hung her head at the implication. She had tried to explain that she had gone there to get help with her prep for next day. Mr Prime, however, refused to believe her story, preferring instead to believe that she had been there for some sinful purpose.

The House Master cleared his throat and continued. 'You will receive nine strokes of the cane for your misconduct!'

The shock of the announcement reverberated around the large Hall. Nicola's mouth dropped open. She went to say something but thought better of it. Her shoulders sagged wearily.

Janine was furious and she hissed to Sonia, 'I'll bet that bitch, Miss Leathers had something to do with the three extra strokes.'

Mr Prime flicked the cane with his wrist. Nicola jumped. 'Bend over, Miss Lee!' he ordered.

Nicola turned around and put her hands on the back of the chair so that her long legs were at a 90 degree angle to her horizontal body. Then Miss Leathers stepped forward and rolled up the girl's gym vest to just below her tiny, pointed breasts.

'She's getting it on the bare?' Sonia could hardly believe what she was seeing. Janine did not reply. She bit her lip and Sonia knew that she was re-living a horrible experience she had herself been through not so very long ago.

Miss Leathers grasped hold of Nicola's gym shorts and yanked them down to her ankles, exposing for all to see, long, lean but shapely thighs below slim and un-marked buttocks. All the male members of the staff leaned forward to obtain a better view of the derriere they had not seen before. Nicola kept her legs tight together to protect her privacy.

'This is awful!' breathed Sonia. Those around her silently agreed.

Mr Prime took up his position, laying the cane across the target area first of all before starting his swing, so that he could get the range.

Whoosh!

Smack!

All the girls in the assembly winced as the cane hit flesh. Nicola did not cry out, but the force of the blow buckled her knees.

Mr Prime waited before delivering his next blow. Expert that he was, he wanted the young backside to glow in agony before inflicting further punishment.

Sonia's heart continued to thump as she saw the imprint of the cane springing up instantly on the taut skin of her friend's bottom.

Two of the male staff put their heads together, whispered, grinned and then nodded approvingly. They obviously appreciated Nicola's curving, girlish hips, her narrow waist, her slender, creamy-skinned torso as well as the tight bottom that waited for another dose of the springy cane.

Sensing that the pain from the first blow was now receding, the House Master delivered another cut.

'Ooh!'

This time Nicola did cry out and her knees buckled once more. Again the imprint of the rattan showed up on Nicola's tender globes. As the blonde girl waited for the next stroke she sought to obtain some relief from her agony by clenching and unclenching her bum cheeks.

Swish!

Crack!

'Ay yee!' shrieked Nicola. Her back arched and she threw back her head.

Sonia looked at Miss Leathers. She was breathing heavily and licking her lips.

Nicola raised one ankle in the air and waggled her bottom from side to side. She began to sob.

'She's cracking up already,' whispered Janine urgently to Sonia. 'I don't see how she can possibly take another six!'

The fourth stroke made the stricken blonde jerk bolt upright. She let out a piercing yell.

'He's really laying into her,' whispered Janine. 'I'll bet that awful Miss Leathers told him to give her a good thrashing!'

Mr Prime tapped Nicola's stinging bottom with the tip of the cane. His clean-cut features expressed keen concentration, even some pleasure. 'Bend over!' he reminded her.

The fifth bite into the already scored flesh caused Nicola the most distress of all the cuts she had received so far. Her legs sagged and an 'ooh' went up from the shocked spectators. The wand had whipped diagonally across the first three horizontal marks. Nicola buried her face in her hands.

'Get up, Miss Lee,' ordered the House Master.

'I can't!' wailed the distressed Nicola.

Mr Prime bent down and whispered something to the Matron. She shook her head.

'Bitch!' hissed Janine, knowing that Mr Prime had asked her if he should stop.

Somehow Nicola struggled to her feet and bent over the chair. She was no longer concerned with trying to protect her privacy and she spread her legs wide apart.

Whirr!

Thwack!

'Oh ... oh ... oh ...!' Again Nicola slumped to the floor and she clutched her blazing buttocks, rubbing them fiercely with the palms of her hands.

'Up, Miss Lee!' ordered Mr Prime.

Sobbing bitterly, Nicola made no move.

'Come on, Nick!' urged Janine quietly. 'Only three more and it's all over.'

The House Master spoke to the two young teachers who had earlier given approving nods at the sight of the semi-naked girl stretched over the back of the chair. Instantly, they jumped to their feet and made for Nicola. They pulled her to her feet, first taking a good look at her thighs and golden bush as they did so.

The tall blonde was stretched by the two men so that only the tips of her toes were touching the floor. Her hands were secured in the two masters' vice-like grips.

There was a thud as a young member of the school fainted and hit the floor. Several of her friends hurried to her aid to remove her, and thankfully to remove themselves, from the sight of the popular blonde sixth former being beaten and humiliated.

'This is horrible.' murmured Sonia.

Nicola's slim and tender buttocks were now a criss-cross map of suffering, but Mr Prime lined up the cane for a further infliction of agony.

Crack!

'Yaroo!' screeched Nicola, her legs threshing wildly. Her bottom being so slim, the target area was therefore relatively small and the latter cuts were now landing in the already hurt places of earlier ones.

Sonia thought it a good job that it was an all-female audience in front of the stage, the way Nicola was now revealing herself. The disclosure of her intimate parts was the least of the distraught girl's worries.

Mr Prime waited until the long legs had stopped moving and the girl's toes were again touching the floor. He again raised the thin wand and almost every single onlooker tensed as they waited for the blow and the anguished reaction. Only Miss Leathers seemed to be not affected by the canework of her friend on the bared, crimson arse.

Swish!

Nicola's scream was the worst yet. Many of the girls who had covered their eyes before this stroke opened them wide in horror. The distraught girl continued to yell long after the fresh weal appeared. The two men who were holding her wrists had their work cut out to keep her bent double over the back of the chair.

Still Mr Prime waited for the pain to climax and start to ebb before delivering the final cut. This time the House Master caught her on one of the worst of the weals. Nicola let out a long, low moan and dropped to her knees again as she was released by the two men. Crying bitterly however, the beaten blonde struggled to her feet and again presented her buttocks for further punishment.

'Poor kid!' breathed Janine. 'She doesn't realise it's over!'

Miss Leathers got up from her chair and pulled up Nicola's gym shorts.

The audience filed out and the three room-mates climbed on to the stage to comfort the victim. Somehow they got the dazed Nicola back to their room where they laid her on her tummy and again pulled down her shorts.

'Oh God! Look at those marks!' wailed Beverley.

'It's horrible!' choked Sonia.

'Matron shouldn't have allowed it,' complained Janine. The whole of Nicola's bottom was suffused an angry sullen red, against which the darker lines of individual cane marks stood out evilly.

The girls gently tended her wounds but it was some time before the blonde moved so much as a muscle. Eventually, her bottom caked with cream, she was covered up. Clutching her teddy bear for comfort, Nicola sobbed herself to sleep.

Beverley, Janine and Sonia sat disconsolately on the bed discussing their friend's terrible ordeal.

'A School Punishment is even worse than that!' groaned Janine.

'Will somebody please tell me what a School Punishment is?' asked Sonia.

Beverley looked at Janine. The memory of her own suffering still fresh in her mind, the redhead became tight-lipped and shook her head, signifying that she did not want to upset herself by even talking about the dreaded punishment.

Next morning's talk in the refectory was all about Nicola, who did not herself put in an appearance until just before lesson time. She then walked in, head bowed and stiff-legged before gingerly resting her battered bottom on the hard wooden bench. The blonde then leaned across the table and whispered in confidence to her friends, 'Miss Leathers had Mr Prime in her room all last night.'

The girls 'oohed' and 'aahed'. 'I wish somebody would teach that bitch a lesson,' someone remarked.

Sonia looked thoughtful. Then her lovely eyes gleamed. 'I have an idea,' she smiled.

Her audience giggled as they listened to Sonia.

'It's very risky!' cautioned Janine.

'No, it isn't!' protested Sonia. 'As long as you all keep a good look out.'

At tea time a full jar of mayonnaise disappeared from one of the tables!

Once it was dark, the girls crept towards the out of bounds staff quarters. The ground floor window of Miss Leathers' room was open and the room was in darkness. Sonia clambered inside, armed with the jar of mayonnaise. She made straight for the bed, turned back the sheets and emptied the contents of the jar before replacing the sheets.

'Hee hee!' she chuckled. 'Miss Leathers and Mr Prime will get a nasty shock when they tumble into bed tonight. That will dampen their ardour!'

Suddenly the room was flooded with light and Miss Leathers appeared from nowhere. Sonia had forgotten about the adjoining bathroom. The young Matron had been in there the whole time! Sonia dropped the empty jar and she heard her friends outside the window scurrying away to safety.

* * * * *

Sonia stood before the Headmaster, Mr Whipp, and heard herself sentenced to the dreaded 'School Punishment'.

'I will call a special assembly in fifteen minutes to deal with the girl,' he informed Mr Prime. He had heard Sonia's 'confession' along with the Head Girl, a tall sturdy pupil called Carolyn. Carolyn was a girl who thrived on punishments. Sonia saw her grinning from ear to ear as the dire sentence was pronounced. Also smiling was Miss Leathers, who had given her evidence in floods of tears, thereby convincing the Headmaster that drastic punishment was necessary to safeguard the disciplinary standards of the school.

Mr Whipp addressed Carolyn and indicated the ashen-faced brunette. 'Get her ready!'

'Yes sir,' Carolyn responded eagerly. She pulled Sonia away by the arm.

Poor Sonia had lain awake all night fearful lest she be given a 'House Punishment' and now here she was, only fifteen minutes away from what was something infinitely worse. Her three friends had tried to comfort her. But the sight of Nicola's bum, still a glowing sunset of fiery red, had done nothing to relieve her mental torment.

In a daze, Sonia stepped into Matron's room – only a short way from the large Hall, where just a few days earlier she had witnessed Nicola's punishment.

Carolyn stood before her, hands on hips. 'Strip off!' she ordered.

Sonia's mouth dropped open in horror. 'Strip off?' she repeated.

'That's right,' smirked the Head Girl. 'I have to be naked for this?' gasped Sonia disbelievingly.

'Practically,' giggled Carolyn. 'Now hurry up!'

Mechanically, Sonia unbuttoned her crisp, white blouse. Then she took it off and slid out of her skirt. Forcing back the sobs, she raised first one leg and then the other, to peel off the sheer nylon stocking from her smooth, shapely legs.

'The boys will see my boobs,' she complained.

Carolyn nodded, an evil smile on her face. 'They'll see your bare arse as well,' she reminded her brusquely.

Sonia took a deep breath and reached behind to unhitch her brassiere. She handed the garment to Carolyn who looked approvingly at Sonia's milky-white, cherry-tipped breasts. Breasts that would soon be seen by everybody in the school.

She hesitated for a moment before starting to remove her panties. However they were soon on the floor and Carolyn's gaze was fixed on the naked girl's thick, dark bush.

The door opened and Miss Leathers walked in. The Matron pressed something into her hand. 'Put this on!' she ordered.

Sonia looked at the tiny, black G-string. 'What's this for?' she asked.

'What do you think it's for?' snapped Miss Leathers. 'It's to conceal your private part without covering up your bottom!'

With the willing assistance of the Head Girl, Sonia put on the tiny thong. Her black hair spilled out from all around it! Both Carolyn and Miss Leathers shook their heads.

'Take it off!' ordered the Matron. She produced a pair of scissors and sat on a chair in front of Sonia.

There was a knock on the door. 'Come in!' called out Matron.

Sonia gasped and one arm moved to cover her breasts whilst a hand covered her black 'vee'. The newcomer was the Head Boy, an attractive youth called Clive.

'Take your hand away!' snapped Miss Leathers. Sonia did as she was told and the Head Boy leched at her lovely, nubile body. She felt a thrill run through her and her tongue flicked over her dry lips.

Snip, snip, snip went the scissors and a dismayed Sonia watched as the outside of her pubic thatch was cut away. The scissors were cold on her warm flesh.

Both Carolyn and Clive walked around to the back of Sonia and they stared hard at her bare bottom. Somehow, despite her fear, she enjoyed the almost prickling sensation of their eyes on her flesh.

'Is everything ready?' asked Carolyn of Clive as she watched the crinkly hairs fall to the floor.

'Yes. It's all ready for her,' smiled Clive.

He held out the G-string. This time the tiny scrap of material covered what was now left of her pubic mat.

Clive leered at Sonia. 'You've the nicest backside I've seen for a long time. It's a pity it will look pretty horrible before much longer!'

The floodgates opened. Tears coursed down Sonia's beautiful features. Any further reminder she may have needed of her plight was given to her by the sound of a multitude of footsteps in the corridor as the entire school assembled for the flogging.

'You can save your tears for later!' hissed Miss Leathers.

The footsteps died away as the Hall was filled. Sonia's heart gave a lurch. It was almost time!

Without warning the door was thrown open and both Mr Whipp and Mr Prime entered. Their eyes drank in the sight of the bare-breasted girl who seemed to be somehow proud of showing off her gorgeous body to them. The Housemaster carried a bundle of four canes and Sonia wondered why one wasn't enough.

The mutterings and whisperings in the Hall died away as the small procession entered. It was led by the two teachers, each carrying a cane over one shoulder. The near-naked Sonia walked behind them and the small parade was made up of the Head Boy and the Head Girl each carrying a cane in the same way as the teachers.

Sonia kept her head high, knowing that her body was the centre of attention, particularly among the boys of the Upper School. Each step gave a sensual flounce to her breasts. She was almost enjoying the occasion. It was such a powerful drama, all centred on her, and the atmosphere was sheerly electric.

At the end of the Hall, on a raised dais, were two horizontal rails. Sonia knew what they were for!

Carolyn pushed her forward through the throng of pupils and staff who were to witness the beating. Sonia stumbled towards the tiny stage, a strange pang of excitement coursing through her vaulting stomach.

She then recalled that Janine had been through this experience and she looked for her. There she was, along with Beverley and the recently thrashed Nicola where she knew they would be – as near to her as possible, as a token of their friendship and affection for her. The audience packed around the place of punishment in a tight horseshoe. For some reason, a lot of the boys were huddled close to the sides of the dais.

Sonia stood proudly for the school's inspection – she would not have minded if she had been totally naked! She was still frightened about what was going to happen but at the same time she was secretly pleased with being put on show. She aspired to becoming an actress when she left school, but all the same she was shocked by the intensity of her mixed feelings.

Mr Whipp made a short speech and then Sonia was instructed to lean over the first bar and to grasp hold of the second bar. She did as she was told. Now she was in a complete right-angle position.

'Wow – Ouch!' she yelped. Sonia had not expected the stroke so soon and she had not prepared herself to receive the pain. It had been worse than she had expected it to be. She looked over her shoulder. It was Carolyn who had delivered the blow. She knew then the reason for the four canes. She was to be punished by no less than four different people!

'Oh please!' she gasped unthinkingly, seeing Carolyn raise the rod high into the air. The Head Girl was obviously enjoying herself. Sonia turned her head away and waited.

'Erhh!' She stifled a cry, being somewhat prepared this time. The hurt however was awful. And this was only the beginning!

Sonia clenched her bum-cheeks and waited for the next one. It came – and with it, another dose of stinging pain like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Hardly had the hurt died away than Carolyn struck again – harder than ever! Sonia heard a yell and then realised it was herself crying out.

Her hurt flesh was throbbing and pulsating. Grimly she waited for the next cut. She took a quick glance behind her. Carolyn had now made way for Clive. Four strokes of each cane? Another twelve to go! What shape would she be in after it was over? She had seen the aftermath of her friends' beatings. Would she cope as well as they had?

Sonia forced herself to watch as the Head Boy prepared to administer his first stroke. The rod whirred and whipped through the air to land on a previously unhit part of her bottom. She choked back a cry and frenziedly shook her posterior.

Swish!

She heard the second one coming,

Crack!

'Ay...ee...ee...!'

Her cry tailed off and she slumped over the rail. Sonia had hoped that the Head Boy might take it easy on her. After all, they had fondled and petted on several occasions. Not so. It was as if the sight of her breathtaking nudity inspired him to greater effort.

Sonia fairly screeched when he struck her for the third time. She now knew why a lot of the younger lads had positioned themselves in front of her. Hanging under her, Sonia's breasts wobbled and swung as she squirmed under the goading cane! This was further humiliation for the elegant, beautiful girl. At least, her G-string prevented those who desired it a view of her most intimate, personal part.

'Eee...ee...eek!'

The fourth and most vicious cut of all caused her to shriek louder than ever. She clutched hold of the bar. Tears flooded down her face.

To her surprise, Miss Leathers appeared in front of her and motioned her to stand up. Panting, Sonia did so. Her backside felt as if she had sat down in a cauldron of fire. She smiled gratefully at the Matron for calling a halt. It was none too soon. Miss Leathers offered her a glass of water and Sonia grabbed it with trembling hands. In fact, she was shaking so much that as she raised the glass to her lips most of it spilled out and cascaded down her breasts, much to the delight of the droolers at the front.

Matron took the empty glass from her and, to her horror, told her to lean forward again. Her ordeal was not over after all! Once again, her glowing, striped and pained buttocks were to be offered as a sacrifice to the wicked rattan wands that waited to slice into her young, tender flesh. She sensed the erotic atmosphere in the Hall heightening even further as she resumed her position.

Mr Prime took a practice swing before lifting the cane above his head. The fierce stroke knocked the breath out of Sonia's body. Her face became a mask of pain and every muscle in her body tightened in reaction.

Whirr!

Slap!

'Yeek!'

Her breath came in long, noisy gasps. A lot of the girls had their faces in their hands. Janine buried hers in Nicola's shoulder. Beverley wiped away tears from her eyes. The members of the opposite sex, however, seemed to be revelling in the spectacle.

Swish!

Crack!

'Ow...ow...ow...ow...!'

Sonia's bottom bounced and quivered. Without the support of the bar she would surely have slumped to the floor.

The pain from one stroke now merged into pain from the next.

The Matron leaned forward to get a better view of Sonia's backside. The young blonde woman marvelled at the sorry derriere that until so recently had been a splendid example of how a female bum should look – fleshy, creamy and nicely curved.

Mr Prime's final stroke hit a previously unmarked spot. Sonia yelped like an anguished puppy as the fire coursed through her body.

There was a brief respite whilst Mr Whipp changed places with Mr Prime. Sonia thought back to the interview in his study on her first day. Her father had had no hesitation in signing the punishment consent form. If only he could see her now! Closing her eyes and nearly at the end of her resistance to the suffering, she waited for another onslaught.

The rod whistled, cracked and bit across the already weal-striped rump. Sonia did not have the strength to cry out; she merely moaned as more pain was injected into her body.

Whoosh!

Mr Whipp's second stroke caught her across the tops of her thighs, just below the rounded buttock.

Crack!

This time Sonia did not utter a sound but her whole body quivered. Her breasts swayed from side to side.

Sagging wearily, Sonia waited for the last cut of all. She would soon be free to go!

Snap!

'Oh...oh...oh...!' The relief sounded in Sonia's long drawn-out moan. The stroke itself was not a particularly severe one but it landed exactly on one of her weals, just as if the fiery swollen line had been a pathfinder for the rod.

Sonia's face was dripping with tears and her lovely thick curls were now tousled and untidy. She waited to be freed. However her ordeal was not yet over! The punishment had mercifully ended, but there was further humiliation in store for the wretched girl. One by one, every member of the school was made to pass close by her and to gaze at the inferno of criss-crossed tramlines that was now Sonia's bottom. To a lot of the pupils this was the highlight of the whole affair. Several inconsiderate members touched her battered rump and trailed their fingers along the weals. Sonia squirmed and yelped.

Eventually the last pupil passed by and Sonia delivered her weary, agonised body to her friends. All evening the faithful three room-mates tended to her needs.

Eventually, next day, she was able to get up and make her way slowly and painfully to the refectory. With her head downcast and reluctant to speak to anyone, Sonia started on her meal.

She responded to a tap on her shoulder. Miss Leathers peered down at her, a grin on her face. She pressed something into her hand.

'Have some mayonnaise, my dear,' she said cruelly.

Sonia screamed, dropped the jar and buried her face in her hands.

The Other Side Of The Tracks

Story from Janus 40.

The Other Side Of The Tracks
by Andrew Grantham

SALLY looked out of the window of the Assessment Centre. At the bottom of the vegetable garden ran the railway line back to the city she came from. A train, made up of several diesel multiple units, clattered past and temporarily obscured her view of two teams of schoolgirls playing hockey.

'Hockey!' snorted Sally. It's not as much fun as playing hookey!'

'What are you on about?' asked her room-mate dreamily.

Rose lay on her bed smoking a cigarette made up of substances definitely not provided by the Imperial Tobacco Company.

Tall, blonde Sally didn't reply to Rose's question. Instead, she sniggered as a big, busty sixth-former got herself caught up in an opponent's hockey stick and fell headlong into a patch of sticky mud.

The girls playing hockey on the field across the railway lines were not from the council-run Assessment Centre. Far from it, they were all pupils of High View College, a private boarding school for girls. It was ironic that the two establishments were so close and yet worlds apart.

It had been that way for years. The Assessment Centre had formerly been a remand home — a grim reminder to girls at the College of their good fortune in life. Now it was simply a reminder, no longer grim. It was merely a place where naughty girls got sent to. No girl from High View would ever be sent to the Assessment Centre. The discipline imposed by the Headmaster and his staff saw to that!

'I'll bet they're all snooty, stuck-up bitches,' scoffed Sally.

Rose finished what she was smoking and joined her friend at the window. The blonde girl opened it. 'That pot stinks the place out!' she complained.

Sally had many vices, but smoking pot was not one of them.

Bleary-eyed, the red-haired Rose surveyed the couple of dozen girls in white shirts and navy blue pleated skills expending their energies on the playing fields.

'Jolly 'effin hockey sticks,' she snorted. 'I can think of better ball games to play than that, can't you?' she sniggered, digging the other girl in the ribs.

'Hey!' exclaimed the taller girl, suddenly noticing the referee. 'I wouldn't mind playing with him. He's a bit of all right, he is!'

'Yeah,' agreed Rose. 'He's a fit-lookin' feller all right.'

The two teenagers watched the college girls enjoying themselves. A psychologist might have said that Sally and Rose were envious of the other girls' freedom and at the same time jealous of the fact that when God had shuffled the cards, the females on the other side of the railway line had come up with the trumps.

'I've never seen a posh school before,' remarked Rose.

'Nor me,' said her room-mate. 'The one I went to.' Here Sally paused and laughed. 'When I went to it that is, was a council school. It was all horrible glass and concrete. I hated it!'

Rose mumbled her agreement. She seemed to be miles away. She returned to her bed and lay down.

Sally maintained her vigil by the window. There was precious little else to do. Tomorrow, they would be taken to court to learn of their fate. They both expected to miss a custodial sentence, but only just!

Her high, firm breasts pushed against the window panes as her big blue eyes devoured the young man in the track suit on the field. Her lip, however, curled in contempt for the girls who had had a better start in life than herself.

Sally was in fact quite a pretty girl, except when her lip curled; which it did quite often. She was inclined to blame everyone else for the fact that she had a petty crime record. Everyone, except herself of course.

She never questioned the fact that she had been the only one in her class to be in trouble with the law. Her parents were decent, hardworking people who had been too lenient with her and Sally had taken full advantage of their leniency.

'There's no graffiti on the walls!' she suddenly realised and shouted out to Rose.

Indeed, the old walls of the school were covered in ivy and not in painted slogans.

'Why don't we go over and write something, then?' drawled Rose, running a hand through her dark red hair. It was only a half-hearted suggestion, but Sally's eyes positively gleamed at the thought

'Yeah! Let's!' she exclaimed.

If anyone had said to her that she was like a silly schoolgirl, the blonde would have slapped their face, or worse!

'Come on, Rose!' she cried, clapping her hands. 'Let's sneak out!'

Rose, still a little high from her joint, propped herself up on her elbows and nodded. 'Anything you say,' she agreed.

Sally kept her eyes on the establishment that was so near and yet so far away from her whilst she turned things over in her mind.

'It's the start of a new term,' she thought out aloud. 'There'll be lots of new faces around. Nobody will know who we are. Besides, nobody here is going to bother us for the rest of the afternoon. As long as we get back in time for tea, we'll be okay.'

'Count me in,' said the redhead lazily.

'There's just one thing,' frowned Sally, looking down at her baggy sweater and patched jeans. 'We can't walk round that posh school in these clothes, can we?'

'No,' agreed Rose without offering any suggestions herself.

Sally clicked her fingers. 'I've got it!' she shouted. 'We'll make for the changing rooms on the edge of the playing fields. There'll be plenty of smart uniforms hanging up there to choose from.'

Rose suddenly began to take more interest. 'And watches!' she pointed out. 'I'll bet those well-off girls will have left quite a bit of jewellery in their pockets. We can hide it somewhere and come back for it at some time. Even if we are put away tomorrow, it's only going to be for a short time!'

Sally sniggered. 'They'll all blame one another. That'll be a laugh.'

Rose got up. She was dressed almost identically to her friend. The only difference was in the colour of their sweaters. The red-haired girl wore grey and Sally's was dark brown.

The blonde girl opened the window and poked out her head. As she thought, the drainpipe was in easy reach. She was used to climbing up drainpipes in furtherance of theft so it was no hardship for her to go the other way for a change.

Soon, both of the inmates of the Centre had their feet on the ground and, under cover of bushes and trees, they ran to the bottom of the garden. The fence that met them was made of old railway sleepers and it presented no challenge at all.

'Watch out for 'effin trains!' warned Rose. 'I don't want to end up as mincemeat!'

The girls scurried over the metal rails and crawled under one of the wire strands that bordered the High View College playing fields. Now, they were in a completely different environment and somehow they felt the change Even the grass smelted heavenly from the recent rain.

'Nice 'ere, ain't it?' smiled Sally.

They hurred to the changing rooms which were no more than wooden huts on the edge of the field. The blonde looked all round to make sure they hadn't been spotted and that there was no one inside before they went in.

'Take your pick, Rose,' declared Sally, sweeping her arm around to indicate the array of uniforms carefully hung on pegs.

Laughing and giggling like the schoolgirls they were going to pretend to be, they tried on all sorts of blazers, skirts and socks before finding anything that fitted them.

'All this gear is tailor-made!' Sally informed her friend, trying on a brown-and-yellow striped blazer. 'It must cost the earth for their parents to kit them out.'

Rose laughed as she looked at her colleague from the Assessment Centre. 'I'll bet your boyfriend wouldn't mind seeing you right now,' she told her.

Sally laughed as she looked at herself in one of the full-length mirrors. The brown pleated skirt was halfway up her shapely thighs and her bust pushed out the tight cotton blouse. The striped yellow-and-brown tie was askew and the white socks were down around her ankles.

'Actually, my boyfriend gets turned on by girls in school uniforms,' she confided to her friend.

'A good job he's not here then,' smiled Rose. 'He might want to put you over his knee.'

'Huh!' snorted Sally. 'Fat chance! I'm not into that sort of thing, thank you very much!'

Rose had managed to find clothing more her size, but it did not have quite the same effect on her as the attire borrowed by the blonde.

'Let's see what we can nick,' she grinned.

'Wait!' warned Sally. 'Someone's coming!'

Quick as a flash, the two hid behind a door. A member of the staff walked in, a stout woman of the tweeds and brogues brigade. She strode purposefully towards the showers, obviously looking for girls hiding away from the physical activity going on outside.

Sally and Rose took the opportunity to make themselves scarce, although the red-haired delinquent complained about missing out on the loot. Sally assured her they would get it on the way back as the girls would be on the hockey pitch for another hour at least. Also, on their way back they would find some paint and write on the nice clean walls!

They walked into the main building and only just managed to keep their feet on the highly polished parquet flooring. Their first test came when a formidable-looking mistress walked towards them.

She pointed at Sally. 'Fix your tie, girl!' she ordered and strode on her way.

Instinctively, Sally did as she was told and the pair of intruders carried on with their inspection of the old school.

'This place is even older than my gran!' joked Rose as she looked up at the paintings of former heads and benefactors lining the oak-panelled walls.

Suddenly Sally clutched hold of Rose's arm. 'Listen!' she hissed. 'Can you hear what I think I can hear?'

Rose nodded, a smile on her face. 'Someone's getting a walloping!'

The unmistakable sound of wood on flesh came from a nearby room, the door of which was partially open. They peered round and their hearts stilled at what they saw.

In fact the first thing that met their eyes was the sight of a pink bottom already adorned by two red horizontal stripes. Its owner was bent over a large desk, her shoulders heaving with sobs and her panties caught up in her feet.

It was only after the third stroke and resultant screech that the two uninvited observers realised that it was a man who was wielding the cane.

The chastiser was tall, athletic, in his mid-thirties and he was very good-looking.

'Stay still, Miss Jones!' he admonished the stricken girl squirming over the top of the desk. 'You only have one more to take, but if you persist in moving about, you'll get more!'

A chill came over Sally. The sight was absolutely awful yet, at the same time, it was utterly compelling. Something inside her wanted the poor girl to get more as the teacher had threatened.

Miss Jones managed to control herself and her angry, pained bottom shuddered to stillness, although her cheek muscles were obviously tightly clenched.

Whapp!

The cane sank again into the soft cushions of her rump. She yelled out aloud and waggled her rear end from side to side.

'Pull up your knicks and off you go!' ordered the teacher.

'Yes, Mr Bridges,' was the tearful but eager reply.

It was at this moment that the two inmates of the Assessment Centre chose to leave. They chose to, but they didn't actually make it. Roughly, they were pushed into the study by the tweeds and brogues mistress they had seen in the changing room and inside they tripped over each other.

'These two girls were peeping around your door,' explained the matronly woman. 'They must have been watching you cane the Jones girl.'

Miss Jones, her face buried in her hands, quickly left the scene.

'Ere! What's the game, you bitch!' demanded Rose, her natural hostility to any kind of officialdom rapidly rising to the surface.

'How dare you speak to Miss Russell like that!' roared the man who had just laid the cane into the meaty bottom of the recently departed Miss Jones. He yanked the two girls to their feet by the collars of their blouses and shook them like two rag dolls.

'Piss off!' shouted Rose.

'- - - - off!' hissed the blonde, coming out with the full Anglo-Saxon expletive.

'Oh, Mr Bridges!' shrieked a shocked Miss Russell, putting a large hand to her mouth.

'I've a good mind to smack both your faces!' hissed Mr Bridges. He quickly, however, brought himself under control. 'Instead I'll give you six of the best — the very best, I assure you!'

The two girls struggled in his grip and even aimed kicks at his shins. However, he solved that problem by letting go of their blouses and twisting their ears instead.

Sally suddenly stopped struggling as realisation came over her. They were supposed to be pupils of High View College. If it was found out they were from the place across the railway lines, they would be unceremoniously handed over — with a full report of their loutish behaviour and foul language. Their assessments would be rapidly altered and they would be incarcerated at the court hearing for sure. It was better to grin and bear it. Okay, so they would certainly be baring it, but it was hardly likely they would be grinning!

She managed to convey the message to the other girl with a few whispered words and Rose, too, gave up the struggle.

'I'm sorry sir,' whimpered Sally, looking at Mr Bridges with wide, appealing eyes. She could turn on the charm whenever she wanted to.

'No doubt you are!' Mr Bridges was not impressed. 'But your sorrow will not stop you from getting the six of the very best I promised you!'

The girls looked at each other. They hadn't bargained for anything like this. They were out of their depth with this kind of discipline. There was certainly no such thing as corporal punishment at the Assessment Centre!

Which was the lesser of the two evils? A very painful dose of the cane with a sore bum for a while afterwards, or several weeks or even months in some kind of a penal establishment. There really wasn't any choice!

'Perhaps you would be so good as to wait outside with one of these er young ladies, Miss Russell,' smiled Mr Bridges grimly.

'Yes, Headmaster,' said the big lady smugly.

Sally's eyes widened. So the dishy bloke was actually the Headmaster of this posh place. She had never had a Headmaster like that. She had never had the cane either!

A dejected-looking Rose was led out by Miss Russell, leaving Sally alone with the Headmaster. She felt absolutely helpless. She didn't even go to this silly school and yet she had to pretend that she did. It was going to be a painful pretence!

The blonde knew it would be a waste of time flaunting her obviously nubile body. Mr Bridges was going to use the yellow crook-handled cane lying on the desk top, no matter what she did.

He started off by giving her a sharp lecture about all the things a young lady should be and not be. One thing a lady should definitely not be — and that was foul-mouthed!

'You won't forget this in a hurry!' he promised, taking up the cane.

Sally was sure she would never forget it!

Mr Bridges tapped the shiny desk top with the tip of the cane. Eyes downcast, Sally took a few paces forward cursing Rose under her breath. It had been her silly idea in the first place! She was glad she had someone to blame, other than herself.

She lay across the surface, her arms outstretched in front of her, her feet steady on the carpet and her bottom poking up in the air.

Sally was frightened, although she did her best not to show it. There hadn't been many times in her young life that the pretty blonde had been frightened, but this was one of them. Her knuckles showed white under the skin as she clutched the edge of the desk.

Mr Bridges, the cane tucked under his left arm, began to bare her bottom. The so-short skirt had ridden so far up already, he merely had to lift it out of the way. Her briefs were so skimpy, they were little more than a snatch patch.

She jumped at the sensation of his warm hands on her flesh. For any other purpose the sensation of male hands down there would be very pleasant, but not for what she was about to receive!

Very delicately, the Headmaster eased her panties over her rump and he let them flutter down to her ankles. For all that Sally was an experienced young woman of the world, she felt strangely embarrassed.

She tensed and waited.

Mr Bridges took time to get his mark and his stance correct. Sally jumped several times as the cane tap-tapped on her offered globes, seeking the perfect range. She had already witnessed just what he could do with the cane and she knew he was going to lay it on much harder for both herself and Rose than he had done for the errant Miss Jones.

Sally heard the cane whistling down for what seemed like ages before she thought her bottom had been bisected by a red hot wire.

'Oooohhh!' she cried out.

Her plump, ivory cheeks shuddered and she wondered where her breath had gone to. A red stripe instantly lit up her pale bottom.

'I don't have to tell you to keep still, do I?' questioned Mr Bridges.

Sally shook her head and buried her face in the sleeves of the striped blazer.

Crack!

'Yeeeoww!'

Sally's head jerked up as the second stroke of the expertly wielded cane struck home. She started to cry. Her bottom seemed to be making frantic efforts to minimise the pain and discomfort.

'Keep still!' warned the Headmaster.

Sally had a sudden urge to kick off her panties and run away. Then she remembered the menacing figure of Miss Russell who would be lurking outside, no doubt savouring every sickening sound that came from the study. There was just nowhere to go!

Whoosh!

Whapp!

Sally screamed and twisted violently. Her bottom blazed with fire.

Mr Bridges viewed with great satisfaction the contorting arse that still had three more stripes to bear.

The sleeves of Sally's 'borrowed' blazer became sodden as the tears flowed unremittingly. She had never known her body could be in such agony. And the awful torment was still only halfway through.

Still, how much worse was it going to be for Rose. She would be able to hear the explosive cracking impacts of the cane upon her bare buttock flesh and all her screeching and shouting, and still have the awful punishment to bear. At least whilst the redhead was getting it, she herself could rub her hands over the inferno that was her battered bottom.

The fourth slice of cane stopped Sally from thinking about the girl waiting her turn outside. Her piercing shriek echoed around the study and the jellied mounds of her bottom showed up her suffering.

Sally's throat was dry and sore from yelling. Ever-increasing waves of hurt seemed to engulf her all over. Her shoulders shook and so did her bottom.

'Keep this still!' ordered Mr Bridges, prodding her buttocks with the tip of the cane. Even that hurt!

Desperately fearful of getting extra strokes, Sally concentrated hard on keeping her bottom absolutely still. Despite the torrent of fire that seemed to have been poured over her arse, she managed it. But not for long!

Kerack!

'Ay-yee-aagh!' roared Sally.

She began thrashing about with her head back and her eyes clamped shut. Her arms were rigidly extended and her fists tightly clenched.

Her crimson, castigated bottom humped up and down frenziedly. She could hardly believe such an awful thing was happening to her.

'This is the last one coming up,' said Mr Bridges. His voice betrayed the fact that he wanted to carry on and give her much, much more.

Whack!

The cane again found its mark on the bottom that squirmed and floundered over the desk top.

'Yarrooohh!' roared the tortured delinquent. Her feet bicycled in the air.

Mr Bridges had used all his energy in delivering the final stroke to the cheeky blonde. She had most certainly deserved the thorough hiding he had given her and he hoped it would be a salutary lesson to her.

Keeping hold of the cane, he crossed the carpet to the door and beckoned a trembling Rose to enter.

'Oh God!' cried the red-haired girl stopping in her tracks.

Sally, her body shattered with the punishment it had absorbed, still lay sprawled over the desk, sobbing her heart out.

Rose screwed up her eyes as she surveyed her friend's backside, ablaze with fiery red criss-crossed welts.

Mr Bridges stood in the doorway and permitted Miss Russell a quick peek at Sally's bum. Her smile showed her satisfaction.

'I suppose these girls think they are the first ones ever to cross the railway lines to see what they can thieve,' she whispered.

Mr Bridges nodded. 'No doubt they do,' he said quietly. 'They aren't the first and they certainly won't be the last!'

Intent On A Hiding

Story from Janus 43.

Intent On A Hiding
by Andrew Grantham

DESPITE the fact that rain pattered on the fabric of the tent, sunlight also filtered through the weave of the material. It was one of those typically English summer days. A light breeze caused the poles to sway slightly and the canvas fluttered a little.

'No,' Dianne repeated firmly. 'Not here anyway.' She tried to crawl towards the zipped-up doorway.

Phil pulled her back by the legs. 'Oh yes you are,' he insisted. 'I promised you a spanking and it's a spanking you're going to get.'

'Ssh!' warned Dianne. 'There's no need to tell everyone.' She turned over and sat on her bottom.

Her jeans were already undone and Phil easily tugged the blue denim down her legs, thus shackling her ankles. He ran the tip of his tongue across his lips as his gaze took in the contours of her mound beneath the white cotton briefs and the pubic patch that showed through the stretched material. Then her gleaming thighs, generous but firm, her rounded kneecaps, and calves that were sturdy yet shapely and truly feminine.

'You can't smack my bum without making a noise,' protested Dianne softly. 'Besides, I won't be able to keep quiet. People will think I'm being attacked. Sound travels outside, remember.'

Phil was unimpressed. 'You're not getting out of this tent until your backside is scarlet and smarting. Okay?'

Dianne's pretty face broke into a smile. 'Okay,' she conceded. 'As long as no one realises what's going on in here. I don't want my face to be as red as my bottom if we get found out.'

She put the palms of her hands flat on the groundsheet and lifted her rear up off the floor. 'By the way,' she asked. 'Just why am I getting spanked anyway?'

'For having an arse that cries out to get spanked,' was Phil's simple reply.

'That's as good an excuse as any, I suppose,' grinned Dianne.

Phil leaned forward. He hooked his fingers in her panties and sharply tugged them downwards. Her thatch was darker than the curly hair of her head, but it was obvious that she was a natural blonde.

'It's awfully quiet outside,' she said. 'Someone is bound to hear.'

With that, she parted her legs invitingly. 'Wouldn't you be satisfied with a leg-over?'

'Later Dianne, later,' smiled Phil. 'Now turn over and crawl across my lap.'

The blonde turned herself over and exposed her beautiful bottom. Then she slithered over Phil and positioned herself so that it was pushed up into the air. Her bum globes were gleaming, firm, yet very pliable. And so gorgeously rounded!

Phil ran a hand over their surface. His first touch caused her to flinch slightly.

'You've got a lovely arse, Dianne,' he breathed.

'Thank you,' she smiled, 'but sometimes I wish I hadn't. It seems to act like a magnet.'

Suddenly, she felt the slam of his hand on the left cheek of her bottom. Dianne held her breath and her head flicked back sharply. Then her right cheek took an identical smash.

'That's just for starters,' Phil warned her in a voice barely above a whisper.

Dianne blew out her cheeks silently and waited for the spanking proper to start.

Phil brought his hand down twice in quick succession, again one sharp slap to the crown of each cheek. The noise of flesh striking flesh was loud and clear and the blonde victim hoped nobody outside would recognise the sound.

The young man inspected her bottom before he struck again. The mark of his hand was just beginning to mottle her glorious cheeks. Before he had finished, they would both be a deep, throbbing scarlet and would surely sizzle if she sat in a pool of water.

Phil settled into a slow, easy rhythm and Dianne squirmed as her seat got hotter and hotter. It hurt of course, but she could take more, much more. Deliberately, she pressed herself into his swelling crotch.

Slap!... Slap!... Slap! The sound was repeated every few seconds but at one stage it was drowned out by the noise of a flurry of rain on the canvas. Dianne gritted her teeth as she jerked and writhed, though she still managed to absorb the hard impacts of his hand without making a sound.

She was weakening however and as the barrage increased, low moans began to come from the back of her throat.

'Lay off now, Phil,' she pleaded in a whining tone.

'Not likely,' came his rasped reply. 'I'm enjoying it too much.'

By way of a change, he turned his attention to her thighs.

'Owww!' cried out Dianne. Her head shot up and her curls jerked violently.

Phil scorched the same thigh once more. Dianne groaned. Her legs scissored open and shut. Pain was now overflowing from her roasted rump and she was finding it difficult to contain her vocal reaction.

The other thigh shuddered and reddened as her bottom got some respite. The backs of her legs were really smarting now.

'That's enough, Phil!' she gasped, twisting her head round to look at him.

He was unmoved. His answer was to grip her tighter and to step up the flow of stinging slaps.

Dianne now let out a whinnying whimper as every explosive blow from his hand increased her pain and her discomfort. She was now past the enjoyment stage. Her bottom and thighs winced and quivered and she repeatedly struck her fists on the groundsheet.

Only when she began to cry out loudly did Phil stop. Then he ran his hand over her scarlet, scorching nates and the bright red patches on the backs of her thighs.

Dianne took deep breaths and lay still for a while. Gradually she recovered, and then she reached for her panties. Outside, the rain had stopped and the breeze had died away.

'You were very good, Di,' said Phil, planting a kiss on her lips.

'Thank you,' she murmured, somewhat excruciatingly wriggling into her jeans. 'We'll do what comes next somewhere else if you don't mind. There's hardly any room in here.'

No sooner was she back in her clothes than the zipper of the tent was drawn up and two little heads poked their way inside. 'Can we have our tent back now please, mummy?' they asked in unison.

'Yes darlings. Of course you can,' smiled Dianne.

She crawled out into the garden of her home and as she did so, her husband playfully tapped her denim-covered bottom as it waggled in front of his face.

'Ouch Phil!' she complained. 'That hurt!'

Exposure

Story from Janus 82.

Exposure
by Andrew Grantham

Trevor spread out the photographs on the table top. The holiday pictures had all been taken in Spain — most of the shots showed someone either drinking San Miguel beer or posing with a bottle of it in their hands. Mexican-style hats were favoured by most of the young men who had been photographed. They all wore the usual offensive 'Brits Abroad' tee-shirts and looked typically stupid. No wonder, thought the dark-haired, unattached 31-year-old, that the Continentals only wanted the British if they happened to be involved in fighting a war on their behalf.

Featured in the majority of the photos was a young, shapely, curly-haired blonde. Topless in many of the photos, her breasts were like great, heavy pears. The nipples were big, and aroused too — clear evidence that a lot of horseplay had taken place before the camera shutter had clicked; and no doubt afterwards, too!

'You've got a nice pair of knockers there, my lovely,' breathed Trevor.

Even better however, in his eyes, were the two glossy photographs in which the blonde girl's resplendent bottom took pride of place.

In the first one, her big, moon-shaped behind took up most of the picture space. Had she posed like that for a bet? Too much Sangria, perhaps? Whatever reason she had had for exposing her butt to the camera didn't really bother Trevor. He was just glad that she had!

'That's a very nice arse you've got, young lady,' he breathed excitedly, bending forward to admire the young, female flesh through a powerful magnifying glass.

The girl's bottom was really just a bit too fleshy to be perfect, but it was certainly a 'nice arse' as he had put it. Trevor bet to himself that those luscious mounds would quake and quiver after a hard palm had landed on them — which brought him to the other picture!

In that one the blonde was draped totally naked over the lap of one of the youths, with her bottom poked high in the air. The person taking the photograph couldn't possibly have captured that moment when the spanker's hand had flattened the girl-flesh before its rebound. The palm must have been deliberately pressed down on to the soft humps for the purposes of the picture.

After a while, Trevor put the photo to one side and pulled the telephone nearer to him. He tapped out the number from a slip of paper and drummed his fingers on the table top as he waited for the ringing tone to stop and the voice to come on the line. The adrenalin was certainly beginning to pump, now.

'Hello.'

It was a young female voice. She confirmed the number he had called.

'It's about your holiday photographs,' began Trevor.

'Oh yes.' The girl's voice rose in pitch, indicating her immediate interest.

Was she suddenly afraid that she was going to get into trouble over them? Trevor paused, so that she could feel relief when he continued, 'It looks like I've got yours.' Then he paused again before saying, 'You must have mine, Lisa.'

'Oh I see,' came the response, but there was still some nagging doubt, judging by her tone. 'Just a minute. How do you know my name and phone number?'

'Well,' said Trevor, 'Glossy Snaps suggested we exchange pictures ourselves as it would be such a lot quicker. Especially as we're not far away from one another.'

'That was a bit naughty of them,' sniffed Lisa. 'I've got a good mind to write to...'

'Good idea,' interrupted Trevor. 'Anyway, if you've no objections, I'll pop round this evening.'

Lisa didn't respond right away. Trevor then told her that Glossy Snaps would send a credit note and free vouchers for the inconvenience. She agreed and Trevor wished her 'goodbye'. Beaming broadly, he put down the phone.

It was early evening when he arrived at the address written on the slip of paper. The door to a small entrance porch was not even closed. The old house was divided up into flats or bedsitters. Pieces of paper and brown envelopes fastened to a porch support by drawing pins indicated the various tenants. Miss L. Murphy occupied number 12.

Trevor made his way up the uncarpeted staircase to the very top floor. There was no bell on the paint-flaked door, so he knocked loudly. There was only a short pause before it was opened as far as the brass safety chain allowed. The unmistakable face of the girl in the holiday snaps appeared in the opening.

From the pictures, Trevor had guessed her age as around 23 or so but she was clearly a couple of years younger than that.

The expression 'good-looking in a streetwise way' was, in fact, a fair description of Miss L. Murphy. Her eyes were blue and widely-spaced and her nose was just the right shape for her rounded face. She wore no make-up but Trevor could visualise what her fleshy lips would look like coated with glossy lipstick. Her natural blonde hair, which had been further lightened by its recent exposure to the sun, was loosely curled and it trailed down to her shoulders.

Her overall prettiness was, however, tempered by a perceptible sneer which Trevor had observed on the faces of many young women of a similar type.

'Hi,' she greeted, after a cursory inspection of the caller. 'I recognise you from the pictures. You're just as ugly in real life!'

Trevor smiled. She had a sense of humour. He liked that. It helped to break down barriers.

He waited, pulse racing, for what would happen next. Would she merely exchange the photographs through the gap or would she ask him inside?

'You'd better come in,' she offered, slipping the chain and opening wide the door.

So far, so good. That was the first hurdle over.

He saw now that she was dressed in a pale blue leisure-suit. She looked very nice in it.

'Thank you, Lisa,' he smiled, quickly taking advantage of the offer. 'It's nice of you.'

'It's nice of you to put yourself out after Glossy Snaps cocked up our pictures.' Lisa actually sounded grateful.

'No problem,' Trevor told her, following the girl down a short, narrow corridor.

As she moved ahead of him, his gaze fixed on the curve of her buttocks. He knew, of course, exactly what her backside looked like from the pictures and it was easy for his X-ray mind to remove the taut blue cladding.

The outline of Lisa's tiny briefs was quite evident. Trevor's imagination had no problem whatsoever in removing that obstruction!

The plump cushions wobbled so delightfully from side to side that it was difficult for the visitor to keep his hands off them! He managed it however and he sat down on a battered settee in the rather tattily-furnished living room.

Lisa picked up a gaily coloured 'Glossy Snaps' photo wallet from a shelf and she sat down beside him. Her nipples prodded clearly against the inside of her blue top. She was obviously bare-breasted beneath the garment.

'I thought some of your pictures were a bit, er, um, on the saucy side, to say the least,' Trevor began, pulling a similar packet from his jacket.

'You're a good one to talk!' scoffed Lisa, her big eyes widening. She tapped the wallet with her nicely-nailed fingers. 'Some of yours should never have been printed!'

'Just fooling around,' grinned Trevor, shrugging his shoulders, but noting the broad smile on the girl's face.

'That's all I was doing, wasn't I?' she pointed out, screwing up her nose.

Trevor took a deep breath as he plucked from the photo wallet the picture of the nude Lisa over the yobbo nolidaymaker s lap.

'I take it you like having your bottom smacked,' he put to her.

'Don't be so 'effing cheeky!' Lisa's response was more of a matter of form protest than a cry of outrage.

'Nothing wrong with it,' insisted Trevor. He brought the photograph up to his eyes as if it were the first time he had inspected it closely.

'There's nothing wrong with your bottom, either,' he laughed. 'It's very nice indeed.'

'Here!' snapped Lisa, stretching for the photos. 'I'd better have those!'

Trevor noticed how her features had now hardened. He let her have them and he sat back in the seat.

'I've got a proposition to put to you, my dear.' He tried to sound relaxed, but his heart was pounding madly. It was make or break time.

'Have you indeed?' She gave a half laugh. It was obvious however from the expression of interest on her face that she wanted to hear what his proposition actually was, all the same.

'You must like a bloke spanking you...' began Trevor, in a very serious tone.

'So that's it!' interrupted Lisa, standing up and glaring at her visitor. Her blue eyes were like fire now. 'Just because you were lucky enough to see some photos you shouldn't have seen in the first place, you think...'

'Hear me out!' Trevor spoke softly and placatingly held up his hand. 'We can maybe do a deal.'

Lisa let him carry on and her features changed from a stony mask into a frown. Next, her eyebrows arched as she looked pensive. A smile followed and, finally, she bared her bright teeth in a grin.

'Okay then,' she told the excited Trevor, 'but you've got to do your part of the deal first!'

Trevor shot to his feet, a huge beam of delight spread across his handsome, clean-shaven features.

* * *

Undressed, Lisa was actually much less weighty than she had appeared in her holiday shots. She was a very curvy girl, though.

As she stood beside him ready to drape herself over his lap, Trevor resisted the temptation to cup at least one heavy, sun-kissed breast in the palm of a hand. That was not part of the deal and he couldn't take the risk.

She still had her panties on — a pair of white tanga briefs. They were at full stretch and her thick pubic thatch was like a pad beneath the straining nylon.

His heart was no longer behaving like a steam hammer, but it was still beating excitedly within his chest.

'Just my luck for my snaps to go to someone like you,' sniffed Lisa as she lowered herself into position.

'Why?' asked Trevor, exhilarated at the sudden intimacy and warmth her practically naked young body had produced as her weight pressed down in his lap. 'You obviously enjoy getting your bottom smacked.'

'I can live without it.' Lisa's voice came from down near the carpet.

Trevor smiled smugly to himself. He couldn't live without it!

Gloatingly, he contemplated the fresh young body at his disposal. Lisa's shoulders were quite wide, but her waist was nicely nipped in above her expansive hips.

Lisa's briefs covered only a very small portion of her upthrust bottom. The skin was tanned and Trevor well knew that the tiny segments still hidden beneath that scrap of nylon were exactly the same colour. No doubt she enjoyed wearing nothing but a G-string on crowded foreign beaches and would feel stimulated to make such an exhibition of herself. The backs of her generous thighs were smooth and inviting and her calves were nicely contoured.

Trevor's gaze returned, inevitably, to the fabric triangle.

He gripped the elasticated waistband and tugged sharply downwards.

'Hey!' exclaimed Lisa. She rose up on one arm and tried to halt the down-sliding briefs with a quick grab behind her. Alarm showed on her face.

'Just like the photographs. Right?' Trevor reminded her. 'That was the agreement. You were bare-arsed in the pictures, remember?'

Lisa said nothing and quickly resumed her submissive pose. Trevor then fully exposed all of her ripe, young bottom. He stared admiringly at the plump, shapely cheeks before running a palm over their warm, silky-skinned surfaces.

'Wide-arsed and wonderful!' breathed the visitor. 'That's how I like them.'

The pair had agreed that Trevor would stop the spanking immediately Lisa requested him to do so — after he had given her a minimum of six good slaps. In order that she would be free to roll off his lap if she so wanted, he did not ring her waist with his left arm.

'Aren't you going to do it then?' sniffed Lisa disdainfully. 'I thought you were dead keen to spank me. But if you want to spend all night just looking at it, suit yourself!'

She was a cheeky bitch, thought Trevor but at least she had volunteered her backside for his pleasure; and a pleasure it would certainly be!

'You're quite happy with your part of the... er... agreement?' he asked her once again.

The 'agreement' had been for Lisa to recreate her spanking pose as per her holiday snaps. In return, Trevor had recreated the poses which had caused the girl a great deal of amusement. He had done his part of the deal!

'For fucksake, if you don't hurry and get on with it, you can bugger off home!' snorted Lisa. What language modern girls used. But was she giving away more than she intended?

Determined more than ever to make every one of the allocated slaps count, Trevor delivered a full-armed smack upon Lisa's bared behind.

'Ooh!' she exclaimed involuntarily and her whole body replied in an instant jerk.

The delighted visitor let his palm stay on the firmly-rounded flesh for a while. Then, when he took it away, he stared down at the exposed globes. There on the crown of her right cheek was the stark pink imprint which marked the sudden descent of his eager hand.

'Okay?' asked Trevor.

The answer was a grunt and an affirmative nod of her head. His palm had returned to stroke her bottom intimately. 'Get on with it!' she said. He lifted his hand again. He noticed that her shoulders hunched and her buttocks clenched apprehensively as she waited for the next one. That first slap had been pretty powerful, and loud. She had ridden it very well, but of course the girl was no novice.

Trevor now aimed for the left side of the alluring crevice between the twin globes.

'Nghghh!' Lisa exhaled noisily as Trevor's hand splatted across the target cheek, making a sound that was extremely crisp and sharp.

The girl's hips rotated in a furious circle and her legs jerked upwards forcing more weight into Trevor's crotch.

Now, the mate of the first mark sprang up on the opposite orb.

He couldn't, unfortunately, see the expression on Lisa's face, but he was willing to bet that her features would be all screwed up and that the sneer had been temporarily obliterated.

Trevor waited for Lisa to stop squirming before preparing to deliver another stinging slap on to the plump, shapely cheeks.

SMACK!

'Ooooch!' gasped Lisa, wriggling her shoulders and her bottom. 'You've done this before. Right?' That voice was anything but dead and emotionless.

'Right!' confirmed Trevor as her responsive young bottom heaved up and down. He knew that the playful spanking she had had at the hands of the lager louts in Spain would have been nothing like the one he was giving her now. Those yobs had been mere amateurs whereas he was of professional standard!

Ready now to put some more heat into Lisa's lovely round buttocks, Trevor again raised his open-palmed hand up to shoulder height.

Suddenly, his right arm flashed downward and his hand cracked against the gorgeous full moons with the heel landing on the left cheek and the outstretched fingers on its twin.

Lisa moaned. It must have felt as devastating as it sounded!

Trevor raised his stinging hand. The spanked area of Lisa's smooth, warm bottom was a solid shade of red. The stretched skin was still quivering from the impact.

'My bum feels like you could fry an egg on it, you bastard!'

Lisa was obviously gritting her teeth as she spoke, but she was not really complaining. She knew how to take it. Maybe she figured that insulting him would bring out the beast in him, but he remained polite as ever.

'Ready for another one?' Trevor asked her.

The answer was another affirmative nod of her golden mane. He heard her breathing fast.

The impact of his scything palm sounded explosive as the fifth slap drove further fire deep into her nates.

'Ooooch!' she responded loudly, her bare hips grinding his lap as she rode out the smarting smack.

Trevor, his blood racing, feasted his eyes on her rotating, crimsoning backside. He wanted this to go on for ever.

'Two more, Lisa,' he said softly to her, gliding his palm over those curved, scorched surfaces and then up and down the unmarked flesh of her thighs.

'I can 'effing well count!' protested Lisa, twisting her head to look at Trevor. Her pretty features, however, were lost in the waterfall of curls. 'There's only one more!'

Trevor smiled and sighed at the same time. Oh well, it had been worth a try. If he could only smack her smouldering nether region the once more, then he would make sure it would be one she would remember him by!

Summoning up all his strength, his arm arced through the air and his flat palm delivered an almighty SELAPP! on to the up-poked, rosy summits.

The sting in his hand was too painful, but the effect on the girl's behind was simply sensational.

'Yaroooochh!' Lisa screeched at the top of her voice and her whole body, from head to toe, leaped into motion. Her shoulders shook, her hips writhed, her colourful buttocks rose up and down in frantic movements and she lewdly kicked her legs like a demented frog. Blatantly displayed was that most intimate part of her that the camera lens in Spain had not seen.

Trevor was absolutely delighted with Lisa's reaction. Perhaps he could sweet-talk her into a couple more slaps before he went for his train. After all, very few girls were willing to take it even lightly.

He had a long way to go home, but the trip had been well worthwhile.

* * *

Telling Lisa over the phone that he didn't live far away had been a big fib. The girl had naturally assumed that Glossy Snaps had got the pictures mixed up accidentally and that Trevor, out of the goodness of his heart, had kindly arranged to swap them over.

It had been nothing like that at all!

Trevor, a spanking devotee, was in fact the Production Manager at Glossy Snaps and he had to personally 'vet' any photographs which showed 'naughty bits' as the processing staff called them. That particular part of his duties suited him down to the ground. It was amazing the array of female flesh he had to look at sometimes, but it enabled him to make approaches to girls most likely to offer their bottoms for a voluntary roasting. Most approaches were not successful, but those girls who succumbed to his overtures never realised for one moment that the whole thing had been cleverly set up.

All the way home on the train, Trevor wondered what the next day's spools of film would bring. It was holiday time and he knew there would be a lot of 'naughty' snaps for him to censor.

The Newcomer

Story from Janus 64.

The Newcomer
by Andrew Grantham

'THANK YOU, Mr Johnstone.'

Anne-Marie smiled at the landlord of the old, converted house where the 20-year-old student had taken up a tenancy.

'Call me Paul,' he invited the blonde, putting her portable TV down on the rather battered sideboard. 'We've something in common, you see. I went to the same university myself ten or so years ago.'

'Really?' Anne-Marie's big green eyes widened as she looked at the large-framed young man with the clear blue gaze and the trusting face. All alone in a big city for the first time, she suddenly felt that she had a tenuous link with something. A link with what, she didn't exactly know, but at least it was a start.

'Can I make you a cup of tea?' she asked, grateful for his friendliness.

That's very nice of you.' Paul Johnstone sat down in a large, overstuffed easy-chair. Anne-Marie was aware of his intensive gaze sweeping over her body and lingering on the stretched denim curves of her bottom as she bent over a large box to unpack the kettle and teacups.

The girl was rather small-made, but very nicely put together. Her breasts, shapely and firm, caused the tight tee-shirt to stretch and outline her sharp nipples. She would never have got away with wearing it at home. Likewise, the tight faded jeans clearly showed the outline of her skimpy panties beneath.

Anne-Marie had led rather a sheltered life in the country, but now she was 20 and free, determined to break out of that shelter, even if she was a little unsure as to how to do it.

As she straightened up, her mouth gaped open and she gave an involuntary gasp. She had not noticed the vase before, standing on the floor by the hearth. There were no flowers in it though it was full of canes of varying lengths and thicknesses.

'The previous tenant,' exclaimed Paul, jumping to his feet and rushing towards the hearth. 'He and his young lady were into corporal punishment in a big way.'

Anne-Marie nodded dumbly, mesmerised by the sight, as her landlord took a long, whippy, crook-handled wand from the cluster. It sounded like a rattle of applause as it was withdrawn. Memories of something which had recently happened to her came instantly flooding back.

Paul glanced quickly at his new tenant. Her blonde hair framed elfin features in loose curls. Her eyes were wide and she moved pretty, ringless hands to clutch at slender, shapely arms.

'I don't suppose you've ever been caned,' he remarked casually, whirring the instrument through the air.

'Er... yes... I have actually,' confessed the girl, much to Paul's surprise. 'At college last term.' She hesitated and bit her lip, not quite sure whether to continue. 'One of the lecturers...' She started shuffling her feet, one ankle crossing the other, making her hip bone jut forward. 'He shouldn't have, of course — but I... didn't report him or anything.'

'That was very decent of you,' said Paul, but Anne-Marie did not see the gleam in his eye. She still could not take her own eyes away from the rattan collection. Punishment for enjoyment! It was just like one of the stories in that magazine which had been passed around college.

She coloured as her landlord continued. It would have been bad manners to interrupt. Anne-Marie listened, her tongue flicking nervously over her lips as Paul told her, 'It was quite popular amongst the students — as a 'fun thing' of course. Very grown-up and all that. Apparently you felt lovely after it.'

The blonde experienced an electric thrill in the pit of her stomach. Being caned at college by that nice lecturer had been quite an experience and had not been at all bad really. It had been over a bit quickly — perhaps too quickly, if she was honest. Of course it had been a private matter between them, nothing to do with the college, but it had taken care of an internal report that might justifiably have caused problems for her.

Paul detected the slight agitation in her manner and guessed that he had touched a nerve. Immediately he suggested that he take the opportunity to 'initiate' her into CP for pleasure, so to speak. He wouldn't hurt her of course, it would be just enough for her to experience it. Make up her own mind, as it were. See what the fascination was all about.

'I don't know that I ought to,' she said demurely, staring down at the badly worn carpet and swaying slightly from the waist. She had been in a number of the college plays and had developed a range of expressions which she drew on from time to time. She knew very well what she was doing.

Anne-Marie had taken a fancy to the intelligent, sophisticated male and she wanted to appear very adult and worldly. It would not do to appear too eager, but she had to accept his offer before it was withdrawn.

'I'm not taking my knickers off,' she told Paul suddenly. There! She'd agreed.

Paul told her that would be quite all right. He understood.

Her young heart thumping, the blonde nervously slipped the jeans down her slim legs and then sat down to remove them completely — just as she had at the college last term when everyone else had gone home. She had been frightened then, but it was a much different feeling now.

She let Paul position her so that she was kneeling on the easy-chair with her tummy over the padded arm and the palms of her hands on the floor. Her heart was now pounding. At college, it had all been over so soon. She didn't want it to be like that again, but she had to conceal this from him. 'I'll probably ask you to stop, I expect,' she said softly.

Paul cleared his throat and nodded. 'Of course,' he said. 'I understand.'

The handsome house-owner admired her cute, rounded bottom. The snow-white panties clung tightly to the contours of her cheeks, which thrust invitingly up towards him.

The first few strokes were gentle, playful almost. Then, Paul began gradually to lay it on a little harder.

Wrupp! Anne-Marie tasted a stinging blaze across her bottom. She yelped and looked at Paul almost disbelievingly as he pulled her panties up with his left hand, so that most of the material disappeared into the cleft between her buttocks. That left him a lot of sensitive, bare flesh to work on.

Another swishy flick. A cry of pain. The girl's eyes screwed up and watered with the penetrating hurt. Her hands flew off the floor and gripped the back of the chair tightly.

The thin wood attacked her scorched posterior yet again. 'Stop it, please!' blubbered Anne-Marie, but Paul pretended not to have heard. He was sure she wanted more.

The next slashing stroke to her stinging-hot bottom caused the girl to try to shoot upright. Paul however pushed her down with one hand, whereupon she stayed down. He raised the other to deliver a near-vertical stripe to her left buttock.

Anne-Marie squealed and kicked her legs wildly as the muscular young man continued to cane her, one cheek at a time. With each whistle and crack of the descending cane, she squirmed more and more. It was beginning to hurt like hell. Then, just as she thought she could stand no more, Paul stopped. It was over — she had done it!

The thought crossed her mind that she just might have been taken for a ride in the first place by her charming landlord. Still, despite the flaming hurt in her seat, she did feel very grown-up, as if she had crossed a bridge or joined a select group... and she was starting to tingle all over.

* * *

Leaving Anne-Marie rubbing her burning bottom, Paul returned to his own flat carrying the vase of canes. There was a big beam on his handsome features.

As he walked into the lounge, a young red-haired woman busy at the ironing-table looked up. 'Judging by your face, she obviously fell for the bait,' she remarked with a laugh.

Paul nodded. 'She was a push-over,' he told his live-in girlfriend.

She carried on with her chore. 'I just can't understand why these young students fall for that softening-up story about the canes being left by a previous tenant,' she chuckled. 'You're going to get a knee in the groin one term, you know!'

Paul linked his fingers through hers. 'Ten years ago, my darling, you fell for the selfsame opening gambit — remember?'