Story from Swish Vol.4 No.4
Diana had just received a burning spanking from her husband in their cabin when they were interrupted. But the apparently startled witnesses who burst in on them seemed to know the score even better than they did - and showed it!
Diana wriggled and squealed as she always did when her bottom was being spanked. And right now her flimsy panties were off, her suntanned legs were kicking and she was over her husband's lap, feeling the fifth scorching sting of his palm.
"NA-OWWWW!" she screamed, "stop it – oh stop it, do!" Her plump bottom cheeks, already fiery, contracted visibly as the angry flare spread over the creamy hemispheres and the unrelenting palm swept down SPLAT! again. But Derek held her tight, his arm clamped halfway around her waist. He knew his Diana all right after live years of marriage. She would cook up a quarrel or get into a sulky mood just to get where she was right now. And she would scream and squeal, too, high-pitched girlish cries that would have torn at his heartstrings if he hadn't known how much she loved the whole ceremony of spanking.
Diana loved being chased around the room first – although in this case it was a suite on the luxury liner on which they were taking a holiday cruise. She loved the struggling as her skirt was hoisted up and the curvy lines of her long legs were revealed right up to her knickers. Real tears would come into her eyes even as she fought not to have her panties taken down. When that happened she would be held and dragged across the room to a waiting bed or a settee.
"No, no – you mustn't!" she would yelp, but they had played it all before, a hundred times. And each time was as good as the last. Sometimes better. As she went over his lap or was made to kneel on sofa or bed, Diana's arm would swing behind in a vain attempt to prevent the complete removal of her knickers. Derek had to hold her hard then – she could be a real wildcat, but one who WANTED to be tamed.
"It's the whole secret of spanking," she had told him once. Oh yes, Diana was an expert. She had learned in boarding school, and in the holidays too, over a study desk. "In a way," she had explained to him years ago, "it's a game the man has to win – but the girl, too." And he had long learned what she meant. The very struggle was to invite mastery over her, and it was adorable feeling her lithe, curvy body all slippery against his own and over his lap. So much did she writhe that her dress always managed to slip up at least halfway over the polished gourds of her breasts and that made the vista all the more exciting.
And she could take it. "I had to learn to," she told him ruefully several times, "There were no arguments then. I got real scorchers, no matter how much I yelled or wriggled." – "And always with your knicks down?" Derek had grinned. But he didn't need to ask – the devilment in her eyes told him as did the perfect split globe of her flawless bottom which jiggled so luringly. The one that was now all pink and cream, up-leaping to the smacking of his hand as her fingers clawed at the carpet.
"WHOOO-OOOOH!" Diana moaned so loudly that the sound penetrated the cabin door and made two passers-by stop. "You heard that?" Ralph asked his wife Celia and she nodded, her eyes suddenly bright. Furtively she glanced up and down the alleyway, but there was no one else about. She knew that sort of cry – they both did. But even better they knew the sound of a smacking hand on a bare female bottom and it came now to a renewed yelp from Diana.
"You think we ought to go in and see what's wrong?" Ralph asked his wife with a grin. She bit her lip and smiled, excitement rising in her. Beneath her short robe she wore only a bikini and her large bottom moved suggestively. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! came again through the door and Celia moved closer to her husband. "I wonder if she's pretty," she breathed, bringing another grin to Ralph's face. "With a bottom as round as an apple – yeah," he murmured. He looked up and down the alleyway as she had done, but everyone else was on deck right now or lounging in a bar.
They'd probably locked the door, he thought, and turned the handle cautiously just as Diana began to put up her biggest struggle. Her bottom was a bright cherry red by now and with a sudden turning of his body Derek had swung her down on to the carpet and rolled upon her, pinning her down. Diane's hair fanned out wildly as she clawed at him – or pretended to – all the while he was forcing her legs apart.
"No, you can't – you CAN'T!" she choked, but holding her knees well apart with his own, Derek had already fisted his cock and was nosing the knob up to the lips of her pussy which gleamed pinkly in their candy-floss of curls. "Give it, baby!" he growled. Her nipples were brown cones of rigid delight on the milky tits which the ripping-up of her top had exposed. Her bottom heaved, rubbing its heat-tortured hemispheres on the soft fibres of the carpet.
"Don't... don't... DO-OOONT!" Diana moaned, but this was part of the game, too – the sensuous resistance, the wide-opened eyes and prettily-parted lips as Derek fumbled at his trouser zip.
Then the door opened.
Derek seemed to freeze, but Diana – whose earlier training had attuned her hearing rather finely to sounds from outside – wriggled from under him like a fish and was already scrambling down her skirt as Ralph entered, with his wife peering over his shoulder. But even Diana's movements weren't quick enough to completely cover the roses-and-cream of her bottom, and Ralph's and Celia's eyes missed nothing.
"Oh heavens – sorry!" Ralph jerked with well-feigned dismay, "we thought we heard... that is – oh goodness!" He made to step back but bumped into his wife in the process, squashing her against the door frame. "We thought we heard screams, you see, and...." His voice trailed off, his eyes following regretfully the sinuous movements of Diana as she covered her thighs. She was a peach. About twenty-five, as Ralph judged her, five feet five and with long dark hair. Derek was already up on his feet and brushing back his mussed hair.
"We were just – er – playing about, you see," he said somewhat lamely, having little doubt that both would have spied the rosy condition of Diana's bottom. Ralph nodded. "Of course, yes – very rude of us, but when we heard a screeching..... please forgive us.... quite unpardonable."
Blushing a little but otherwise now composed, Diana waved her hand disarmingly. "Oh, it's O.K., we understand," she said brightly, her bottom still wriggling somewhat visibly. Ralph cleared his throat and nodded. Celia had edged back out of sight. "We must – er – really compensate you... dinner perhaps – terribly sorry...." And then they were gone. "Phew!" Diana exclaimed, falling against Derek with a laugh, "close thing that – you were just going to get it in! I've seen them before, haven't you? There's a rather attractive girl with them. Wonder if she's their daughter?"
"Could be," Derek replied, "I wonder what they thought of the colour of your bottom." Diana laughed throatily. "Dunno – but he looks a bit like a schoolmaster. If he is, he'll have seen a few." Her arms wound around his neck. "Better lock the door this time – I still feel wriggly," she told him. Unbuttoning her short dress, she slipped it off and moved towards the adjoining bedroom, letting her bottom cheeks roll invitingly as she loved to when the stinging of a spanking had begun to settle into a deep glow.
Had she known that her guess about Ralph Skinner being a schoolmaster was correct, the tingle in Diana's bottom might have been felt even more exciting. For Ralph and Celia ran and owned what they called with conscious irony a 'Prep School'. Such are normally for young children, but this one was decidedly different. It entertained only recalcitrant young ladies of eighteen and over who were sent to them because discipline at then previous educational establishment was considered too mild, totally ineffective or – as one mother put it – "ridiculously crude and unsophisticated."
Both Ralph and Celia – who were in their early forties – had given considerable thought and study to the arts of bottom-taming, as they liked to call it in their more relaxed moments. The few girls – never more than five or six – who attended their 'lessons' did so for three months at a time and were never roughly or forcibly handled. They were started off with a few light sweeps of a broad strap or tawse across their knickered bottoms which gave them a certain tingle and made them less uneasy about facing the next session.
Panties were not removed until several such bottom-warmings had been given, and then only after coaxing. If this did not work initially, then the shy 'pupil' would be put at a peephole to witness the bare-bottom treatment of another girl – and this invariably converted them, for the girl who unknowingly put on the exhibition was always a prize student who had progressed from the strap to the cane and then to the teasewhip. A video camera, which pointed discreetly through a partly open door in a cupboard – and sometimes two cameras were employed at different angles – gave delightful views of some of the girls' nubile squirmings.
"It's surprising how the girls like eventually to see themselves receiving six twitchers of the cane," Celia explained to a somewhat open-mouthed Diana and Derek when they were invited to join their table two nights later.
"I can imagine," Diana said, and then corrected herself quickly, "I mean, it must he quite intriguing to see yourself like that. But surely the cane is rather cruel, isn't it?" Ralph and Celia looked at one another and smiled. They had heard the same remark hundreds of times. "Not at all," Celia replied smoothly. "Certainly you can read the most frightful stories in some of the cruder magazines on the subject, but those are obviously written for sadists. The idea of a cane being used to produce welts or weals is repulsive, No, my dear, we use the skimming technique and Ralph is far better at it than I. The wrist angles are all-important. The cane – a very thin and whippy one – has to catch the cheeks at such an angle that it literally skims across them. It stings but it never leaves marks – or rarely so – sometimes a few tramlines, as they used to be called."
"Mmm.... that must take practice," Diana replied. Her bottom cheeks grew a little warm at the thought of 'a thin and whippy cane.' It was so obvious to both her and Derek that the couple had noticed the glowing state of her derriere when they had burst into the cabin. It was as if all four now accepted that without saying it, and this whole conversation had begun merely by Derek asking Ralph politely what he did.
"You don't spank, then – with the hand, I mean?" Derek asked rather daringly, even though the conversation was already a little bizarre for outwardly ordinary people sitting in the 1st-class dining room of a stately liner. Celia shook her head. "I suppose all of us – or most of us ladies – did begin that way, and it is certainly a salutary method of dealing with some chubby bottoms. Very occasionally we have – er – indulged in it. As Joanna knows, don't you dear?" she smilingly asked the lovely young girl who sat with them.
Joanna nodded, caught Diana's eye and lowered her face. She was supposed to say something now – she could feel it. If she didn't there would be the most awful period of silence. "I s'pose we do all get it at the beginning," she said with an awkward laugh, "but it is a bit babyish. Phew! it can really smart, though!" she added impulsively, bringing a laugh from Diana who said without thinking, "It certainly can!" Then she found herself blushing.
"Pain turning to pleasure, though," Celia said knowingly and gave Diana's thigh a slight squeeze under the table. "A girl, or woman for that matter, should never be left bereft, sobbing and alone after disciplinary treatment. At least there should be some sort of companion with her to offer comfort." Her husband nodded. "Something soothing, yes," he said crisply. He looked a bit of a military type, Diana thought, while Ralph in turn regarded the swelling of her breasts beneath her blue gown and knew exactly what sort of comfort she would need.
"It's really an – er – training course, then?" Derek asked, more to show that he was not so dumb as he felt occasionally he might look. His own degree of sophistication in such things had never equalled Diana's, though he adored giving her bottom a hard and healthy smack. Shafting her afterwards while she was wriggling and squirming was part of it – as she had taught him. Just how sophisticated were the girls who attended the Skinner's 'Prep' establishment, he wondered. And the fact that the pair had already explained to them that it was in no way a school but a small, private 'training college' made it seem all the more intimate.
"A training course – exactly that," Celia smiled, "but I can see that the idea is new to you. It is to many people." She was as well aware as her husband that they had caught them in the cabin at a critical after-spanking moment, and the thought made her own large bottom stir on its seat. "Come to our cabin and have a drink and then you'll see that our canes and things aren't fearsome at all – quite persuasive in fact," Celia added with a half-wink at Diana. Ralph nodded agreement. With the slender figure and bulbous bottom, Diana would make a splendid subject, he knew. And – as it turned out – the couples lived only eight miles from one another. The thought that they had been looking for a trainee Mistress who would take over Celia's role occasionally when she was otherwise busy, stirred Ralph considerably.
So at nine forty-five that night, with the stars twinkling in a deep blue sky through the portholes, Diana and Derek found themselves slightly self-consciously following the Skinners to their cabin suite on 'C' deck. It was naturally larger than their own and had two bedrooms leading off the splendidly-appointed lounge which had a verandah on to the sea. Slightly relieved to find the curtains drawn, Diana accepted a sherry, while Derek had another Scotch. Meanwhile Ralph was rustling around in the larger of the two bedrooms and appeared holding by his side an object to which Diana's eyes went with curious eagerness.
The cane was – as they had been told – thin and whippy, and curved slightly as Ralph Skinner swished it through the air. "Shall we show you?" he asked almost jovially and Diana jumped. "M...m....ME?" she asked astonished, but Ralph shook his head, smiling. "No – Celia and Joanna will be our models. They won't mind, I'm sure. Celia, shall we have you first, my dear?" There was a tiny hesitation and then his wife nodded. It wouldn't be the first time they had 'demonstrated' and the circumstances this evening were pleasantly intimate. There was no more fear of interruptions than there was at home. For home was where the Skinners held court, as it were – utilising the five-bedroomed house left to them by Celia's parents. The bedrooms were used as dorms. A newly-built annexe provided sleeping quarters for the proprietors.
Derek wondered whether he should look at the carpet or at Celia as she put down her finished glass and rose, looking very languid and calm in the circumstances, he thought. Then Ralph turned a low easy chair about so that its back faced them and Celia turned to it. Delicately she began easing up the hem of her black evening dress while Derek and Diana held their breaths, then finished off their drinks hastily.
Ralph took their glasses and refilled them quickly. "Elegance and no rush," he said quietly, "we teach that, too." Derek gulped and stared at the shapely back of Celia whose legs were almost entirely uncovered now, though her movements were slow and even slightly teasing. The dark sheen of her nylons showed off superbly the mature curves of her legs right up to the tightly-banding tops. Then came the view of suspender straps which clung lovingly to her plump, gleaming thighs as did her panties to her majestic bottom as she bent slowly over the back of the chair.
Diana ran a pink tongue quickly over her lips and then noiselessly gulped down half a glass of sherry. It was incredible and exciting to see their hostess displaying her bottom like this. Celia's panties were black and semi-transparent and where her bottom cheeks did not actually bulge out on either side they offered their pale richness through the stretched nylon. Not only that, but the low back of the orange chair forced her to bend so deeply over it – her shoulders disappearing from their view – that with a shock-thrill of eroticism, both Diana and Derek could see clearly outlined the lips of her quim and the wadding of curls around it.
"Joanna, you had best put on your uniform so that our guests can see what the girls wear," Ralph said. Already he had given the cane an experimental swish or two through the air and now stepped up more closely behind and slightly to one side of his wife so that Diana and Derek had an unimpeded view.
"Yes," Joanna said softly. She went into her bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, unfastened the back of her dress and let it slither down to her slim ankles. Stepping out of it, her nubile young figure was displayed in a breathtaking beauty of curves, her high firm breasts spilling up creamily over a half-cup black lace bra which showed clearly through the sheer, candy-striped blouse she slipped on. Then, taking from the wardrobe a tiny black pleated skirt, she drew it up her slender legs. Its hem floated three inches above her knees. The black patent belt slipped through loops in the skirt, drew her waist in to a mere twenty-one inches.
Sitting on the bed she peeled her stockings off and replaced them by sheer black seamed ones which she drew up her creamy thighs. The self-supporting, elasticated tops snapped tightly around the delicious columns a mere few inches from the vee of her black knickers, leaving enticing bands of pale skin exposed. Then, lighting a cigarette with slightly trembling fingers, Joanna sat on her bed and heard the first SWEEEE-issssh! come from the lounge. It was followed by a faint cry and suppressed gasps from Diana and Derek.
The cane had skimmed the jutting globe of Celia's bottom so swiftly and cleanly that both guests jumped slightly in their chairs. It seemed to pass upwards over the wondrous hemispheres exactly like a skiier passing over a crest. And the answering cry that came from Celia was like the far moaning of the wind. Her cheeks quivered and clenched, and her high heeled shoes turned their toes inwards just like a schoolgirl's', Diana thought with a stabbing thrill. It was so wicked and fantastic, she could hardly sit still. It was as if she could feel the stinging caress passing across her own bottom and she was scarcely conscious that Derek was sitting there, too, so enraptured were her senses.
Accustomed as Celia herself was to the bite of the cane, her own senses were even more enraptured than Diana's. With her face hidden completely from them by the back of the chair over which she was sunk, she protruded her bottom more boldly in slavish desire for another of Ralph's expert strokes. They were light but sizzling, sending long fingers of fire through the breadth of her buttocks, tingling into her groove and beneath into her quim which the nylon of her panties so revealingly netted.
Cheeks burning, Derek had felt his cock rise imperiously at the very sight of the semi-naked beauty. The SWEEE-ISSSSH! of the cane as it came a second time only added to the delicious throbbing sensations he was experiencing. Crossing his legs hastily, he dared not look at Diana who had leaned back, her lovely face visibly flushed. She had counted seven long seconds between the first and second strokes and wondered how many more there would be, so carefully and teasingly measured.
Joanna knew. There would be one more – just one. But it would be more of a sizzler than the other two. Enough at least to lift one up on one's toes. Whether he gave three, six or twelve, the last was always the 'mastering' one – the one that made one writhe, quiver and then slump again, entirely careless of the display you were giving. Drawing her breath softly up into her fine nostrils, she stubbed out her cigarette and waited for her name to be called....
The queue starts here for the next sizzling instalment!