Wednesday, 19 May 2010

Nice on the farm

Story from old Swish.

Nice on the farm

"It'll be nice for you on the farm – a free summer holiday", Linda had been told, but it didn't look like the sort of farmhouse one saw pictured in books. It was a sort of Georgian and stood by itself. You didn't really realise that it was a farm until you took in the acres that surrounded it and realised that it was 'all one piece'.

So Linda thought when she lay in bed on the first night of her arrival. She had had a few too many liqueurs, she thought, and felt a teeny bit whoozy, but nice. They were a strange lot, anyway, Mr and Mrs Plummer and their two daughters. The miniskirt era was long over, but the two girls still wore them. Mrs Plummer said they looked nice, and Mr Plummer had nodded as if he agreed. – "You will have to wear one indoors, too, Linda", Mrs Plummer had continued, and had given her a plaid one which made Linda blush because when she sat down her knicks showed at the crotch.

"I like her there", she had heard Mr Plummer say as she went up to bed and, though Linda didn't connect the words with a state of revealment that seemed quite common, the also heard his wife say, "Yes, dear, I thought you would. I think we can bring her out. After that, that's what is wanted apparently and we must do our best".

Maybe Mrs Plummer meant that she was shy, Linda thought. A slight noise disturbed her then in the gloom and she sat up quickly, only to watch her door open and her hostess appear, carrying something in her hand which, wordlessly at first, she placed against the unit at the side of Linda's desk, saying quietly, "This one's yours, dear; you'll need it in the morning, I expect. You'll be nice and warm first thing". And before Linda could recover herself, Mrs Plummer had swept out again and closed the door.

Focusing her eyes and reaching out nervously, Linda saw and felt soon enough that it was a cane, a thin one. It had a slight bend to it that she guessed meant it was well-used. – "Oh no!" she gasped half aloud and slid down under the bedclothes and hid herself, as if the darkness might protect her. Not the cane – no, no! She had been spanked several times before coming here, and that was awful enough. Her blushes filled the dark when she thought of it. She always screeched. She wasn't to screech, she had been told.

Linda was always a late sleeper and she knew how warm her bottom COULD become first thing in the morning when she had sometimes been surprised by having her nightie whipped up and a smacking palm attending to her brazen young cheeks, urging both them and her up, up, up until she was haplessly showing everything. But when her bedroom door opened at eight that morning, Linda was caught napping again, though on this occasion by Mr and Mrs Plummer, and the former immediately picked up the cane at his wife rolled down the bedclothes, finding a drowsy Linda as ever on her tummy.

"WOW! HEY!" Linda jerked in that rude awakening, for in one sweep of her hand Mrs Plummer had uncovered her ripe young bottom as well and Mr Plummer was saying, "Hold her hips up for it, dear", and it was all happening so suddenly that Linda had not time to recover before the lady's strong arms scooped her bare bottom up and the cane gave it a first light twitch.

"YEE-OWK!" Linda squealed, though it was but a touch, and Mrs Plummer saying, "Now, be quiet dear, be quiet – you have to learn to be quiet. All right, Harry – just three, and then she can get up". – "No! I don't want!", shrilled Linda, endeavouring in vain to resist the arms that were looped together under her slim waist and so bringing her peach full up to Mr Plummer's admiring view.

"What you think you want and what you are going to get are two different things, I do believe", Mr Plummer uttered smugly, and with that brought the cane in a sweeping search across Linda's offered bulb. – "NAH-HOOOOO!" came her cry straight away, while from the bedrooms of the two girls she fancied she could hear giggling.

As Linda's cry died and her sobs sounded, so Mr Plummer sighed. – "It won't do, my dear. I think we'll have to put her up properly. We can't have the house being disturbed like this by an untutored girl. CAN we Linda?" he asked sharply and therewith brought a choking howl from her with another deep-stinging sweep of the cane. – "Well, we understood that this IS the problem, Harry. I'm holding her up still, dear – come on now".

"Ah, yes", uttered he as if he had almost lost the drift. "A little stillness, Linda, please. Wriggling is all very well, but not quite so much. It makes it difficult to apply the...." – "FEEE-OUCH!" Linda's cry interrupted him, or perhaps he interrupted himself with that third strike which left a 'triple tramline' across her heat-bleared peach. Then Mrs Plummer's arms released her and she slumped down, squirming like a landed fish while the pair watched dispassionately the urgent squeezings of her nether cheeks.

"Up now, darling, get up. The girls will be getting up as well. Breakfast is almost ready. Bacon and eggs and fried bread – you like that?" And with that bizarrely cheery remark the couple departed, leaving Linda clutching desperately at the edge of her pillow as she tried to sustain the burning in her bum.

"I'm going home!" she wanted to wail, but a desperation seized her that she mustn't act up in front of the girls, for then they would really know – though she could swear they did already. They both had pink nylon panties on, she saw, as she finally reached the breakfast table, for they were sitting facing her.

"You are late, Linda; we can't have this. Have to do something about it, won't we? You haven't seen our stable yet, have you? No, of course not. We'll show it you afterwards. Fill your tummy first, dear. A good meal sets you up for it", Mrs Plummer said, and all seemingly in one long breath so that Linda sat quite still and, partly to her own suppressed fury, ate as sedately as she could.

Stables were boring, she thought, and her bottom was still stinging so much that it was all she could do to sit still, but she had to, had to. And Mrs Plummer observed the restricted movements of Linda's hips on her chair and smiled to herself. Maybe that first little lesson had cut its first notch after all, but they still had a way to go yet. Briskly enough Linda found herself ushered up and out as soon as breakfast was over. The girls were going off somewhere, she gathered, so they had to get out of their miniskirts. As for herself, she wasn't going anywhere except to a boring old stable, Linda thought, and dully accompanied Mr and Mrs Plummer there across the paddock.

"You'll find it nice in here, Linda. I've got things to do but Mr Plummer and Miss Carstairs will handle you. See you later", breezed Mrs Plummer and was gone before a startled Linda even found herself being greeted by a young woman emerging from the stable doors. She was dressed in a riding habit and carried a small funny-looking whip in her hand.

"What a lovely young body – such curves! You are bringing her in, Mr Plummer?" purred the unknown retreating backwards as Linda felt her elbow taken and her host's voice boomed in her ear to reply, "I am indeed, Miss Carstairs. She was twitched a little first thing, but only that".

"Only that?" asked the young woman archly and tut-tutted playfully at Linda as the two large doors closed. "We have to do better than that at your age, don't we, eh?" – "No, no, look!" quavered Linda who didn't at all like the look of that multi-thonged whip. – "Look? Yes, we're going to, dear. A first look at your bottom? Oh no, it's second one for Mr Plummer, the lucky man, of course. Are you coming to the bale? You are, aren't you, Linda?"

"Oh no – look!" Linda repeated wildly and would have stepped back if Mr Plummer had not urged her forward to the bound hunk of straw. – "She's always saying that, but she never allows anyone to", Mr Plummer said sadly. – "Oh, we'll soon see to that little inhibition. Bottoms were MADE to show, Linda, and especially one as plum-rich as yours, my love. Get her over. No more nonsense now. This bum of yours, my pet, is ready for treatment".

"No! YAH!" Linda squealed, but in reality Mr Plummer had few problems in putting Linda over while Miss Carstairs ripped down her panties and rolled her plaid miniskirt up high. Not being a time-waster, and having the girls to attend to later, the latter stepped back, straightened out the twenty-four-inch thongs of her teasewhip and brought the flaying tips burningly, maddeningly, full into Linda's unveiled orb.

"GEE-YOOOO!" came from the girl as a hundred bees seemed to assail her pert cheeks. – "Yes, it's nice, unusual, eh? You'll get to like it, Linda", Miss Carstairs laughed and swept the heat-spraying thong-tips in again, each one biting sweetly into and between Linda's nether checks. – "BOO-HOO-HOO! You mustn't!" Linda sobbed. – "But we must, my dear, for this is your teaching ground", put in Mr Plummer who had only to hold the nape of Linda's neck to keep her pinned over.

A sperming ground also, Miss Carstairs thought, but she didn't say so. Her treatments, at she styled them, were only preparatory. What happened to all the hot-bottomed girls afterwards was not her business, though she was not past comforting them herself sometimes, and THAT was a very nice exercise when a girl's mouth was bubbling away under her own lips and creamy-rich pussy was delicious to touch.

"GOO-WAH! GOO-WAH!' – Linda's cries rent the air for a full minute while the thongs splayed and sprayed everywhere over her bottom and sometimes even under it. Pressing into the side of the bale didn't help, and if she pushed her bottom out she would be really lost – though in Mr Plummer's view she would then be 'found'. A difference of opinions, one might say.

"I'm going to give you the application, Linda, until you quieten down, you realise that, I hope", Miss Carstairs clipped tones cut in on Linda's cries and sobs. And the message did seem to take effect, for in but two more sweeping cuts her tones softened and she began instead to moan and whimper, churning her hips this way and that as the thongs took her.

"She's hot now, you think....?", queried Mr Plummer when finally Linda was allowed to sink down fully on to the top of the bale, her rose-red orb displayed to both and her fingers clenched as she strove to contain her sobs. – "That? Oh I NEVER enquire as to that, Mr Plummer, do I now? I think she had best be taken back to the house first – as usual", Miss Carstairs replied. She tossed the little teasewhip aside regretfully. It wouldn't be needed again for a couple of hours yet.

"Yes", Mr Plummer said. He always admired Miss Carstairs discretion in such matters. She was dedicated to her task, and that was what mattered. His pumper was stiff though, damned stiff, and he needed to use it. Linda was in a fully ripened state now, although she didn't know it. They never did until you slid the poker in and gave them what the Victorians used to call 'a cooling draught'.

"Please, I want to go!" Linda mewed as she was raised up and her knicks left lying on the stable floor. – "We are going, my dear", Mr Plummer said magisterially and led her stumbling across the paddock, though several times urging her to pull herself together. – "I'll give you a glass of milk", he said when they reached the large square kitchen – just as if, Linda thought, they had come in from a pleasant walk. – "No, I don't want...." she began, but then she meekly accepted it and saw how he was looking at her again and blushed.

"It is good to see a girl blush, Linda. Don't worry about that. There are many things that are good which you have not realised yet. – "I'm going to tell my Mum", blathered Linda, but she know she never would. Besides, her mother was the type who would say vaguely, "Well, I expect it was good for you, dear", having only half listened. And Mr Plummer didn't answer her, anyway.

The milk cooled Linda's tummy, making a strange contrast with the continual sparking in her bottom. She couldn't help wriggling it sometimes and she was almost past caring that he was observing with great interest the urging movements of her bum. Taking the glass from her, he said gravely, "My wife and the girls are out. Shall we go upstairs now, shall we?"

Linda wanted to say "Eh?", but she thought better of it. – "Go up?" she echoed, feeling a blush steal again into her cheeks. – "Upstairs, yes. You want to come upstairs now – do you?" And he was looking at her in a new way, Linda realised, and there was a bloody great hump in the crotch of his trousers where his jacket had swung open.

"I'm not going to cane you again, Linda. At least I think not. It won't be necessary, will it?" he asked as they entered the hall and mounted the wide stairs. And Linda quiveringly knew that there was only one answer to that and held her tongue. Her skirt was being gathered up at the back, she realised, and his hand was groping around and under her flaring bum. – "Won't be necessary – won't be necessary, Linda, I'm sure. Let's go in here. I call it – just jokingly, of course – the statutory obedience room. You can see why. Can't you?" he urged as the door received them and closed upon them.

"Mmm....", Linda said. She wanted to wriggle her hot bum more to cool it. There was a comfortable double bed and mirrors and there was a miniskirt lying on the floor. Above the bed were three small hooks, and hanging from them was a cane, a teasewhip, and a tawse. – "Will you – will you need them?" Mr Plummer was asking gently. He had bared her throbbing bottom completely now and was palming the cheeks, and Linda leaned back a little against him with a sigh, moving her naked bottom haplessly against his stiff tool.

It was the only answer she could give now, as she knew. And after all, it couldn't be half as bad as getting caned again......

1 comment: