by Susan Thomas
Helping Claire had at least meant I had no time to get any more nervous and I walked almost confidently around and bent over the 'horse' gripping the legs tightly. I knew what to expect more than Claire had but nine is a lot for those canings. But this time I felt I deserved it for my stupidity. I should have either reported Claire or at the very least persuaded her to stop feeding information to her mother.
The Guardian pulled my blouse up making me feel naked. The cane rested coldly on my bottom and I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. This was really going to hurt. I tried so hard to be brave but when the first stroke hit me right in the middle of my bottom it made my head rear up and I gave a yell that could shatter glass. The pain burnt deeply into me and made my whole bottom highly sensitive. I could feel my body squirming on the 'horse' but it had no command from me. The throbbing pain doesn't go it just carries right on. Then the third stroke landed and I screeched loudly, trying hard not to partly stand as so many do. My whole bottom was now so sensitive. It felt bare and the throbbing, burning lines across it made it feel worse. I had six more to come so I had to hold on and be brave but it was hard.
The fourth did make me rear up and partly stand, my hands flying round to my anguished bottom. Something had gone wrong and the cane stroke had crossed the other three, each point at which it crossed, a point of exquisite pain. The Guardian actually stopped caning to check my bottom, worried he may have cut me. Ladies are not meant to have any blood after a caning. Evidently there wasn't but he still came up close and whispered, "My apologies Miss, I got that one badly wrong."
His fifth stroke also went wrong, I think he had been unnerved by the accidental diagonal and it hit me very low down indeed, not on the meaty part of the bottom that seems designed for it. It had its own special pain that seemed to go deep inside me with an intensity that made me scream. I stood, fully stood, my hands clutching myself. I could see nothing clearly, all was blurry and I knew I must be crying. He was by my side in an instant. "I am sorry Miss I'll count that as two."
Some piece of nonsensical stupidity made me say sharply, "No, I deserve all nine. That was five." I've never understood why.
Somehow I bent over again though bending hurt somewhere down there in a way I didn't expect. There was a break while he recovered his nerve which helped me recover mine, and then the sixth struck. Thank goodness it was right in the middle of my bottom on a part not already caned.
Now he paused again but this time I could feel the cane first touching my bottom, then moving off and coming back to tap gently. He kept doing it, lots of little taps that began to sting in their own right, not that they could compete with the throbbing welts I already had. My bottom felt hot so the cane felt very cold and very, very hard doing that tapping. It had the effect of making it feel huge and vulnerable. I guessed he was trying desperately to get the next three right.
Then he struck properly. The cane buried itself into me and I just screamed out loud gripping the legs so hard and stamping my foot hard on the floor to stop myself standing again. Crack! Crack! He laid the next two on in quick succession which made it worse and I screeched, standing partly, and then bursting into tears again and almost falling back over the 'horse', trying to count to see if it was over. Later I realised he was getting it done quickly for me as he had made two mistakes.
I was helped to stand but my bottom was so sore it made me cry to do so. It must be that very bent over position with one's legs somewhat apart, but that stroke that went astray was horribly unpleasant. Claire and I got dressed quite slowly and were assisted to leave the building where we managed to squeeze onto Mum's cart and she drove us home. There were thoughtful cushions to ease our passage. Once home Mum made us undress fully and lie face down on a bed while she put cold wet towels on our bottoms to reduce the swelling welts. On both our bottoms the welts were far worse on the right side that the left, I suppose the force of the cane is greater there.
My mum was very emotional about the way Claire had been treated by her mother and told her she could come here any time she was off duty and would always be welcome. As we lay on the beds, the wet towels bringing some relief, we vowed that was it, no more investigations. For Claire of course it was all over but not for me, I still had my senior man correction and the dinner-dance to go.
Chapter 18
Had I expected sympathy from Dad when he came home I would have been disappointed. He took a tough line, "You two girls have been complete idiots. Exposing Chapel Island to publicity would destroy it. No one would be able to live here without being pointed at and under constant media scrutiny. You both deserve what you got and you Kate will deserve what you still have to come. I think you have failed to understand your position on the island as a young woman. You are expected to be obedient to the rules and structure, not constantly disobedient in seeking to expose it because you want to know every in and out. It's not your place to know, you're just a woman member and a young one at that."
It was like some Victorian father had come back and taken over Dad's body but you know what the weird thing was? Instead of standing and arguing like a good twenty-first century teenager, I stood with my head down mumbling apologies. I honestly think that had he said he was going to spank me I'd have just taken it, but of course he didn't do that, just told me off and Claire as well - and she just took it too.
Claire went back to her duties as a waitress with two additional burdens in addition to a sore bum. The first was that Frau Weber, who must have been told Claire was in trouble, was extra tough on her and it wasn't long before Claire was baring and bending for stinging strokes of her cane. The second burden was her mother simply broke off all contact. Not only did she not make contact herself she did not reply to Claire's emails or text messages and Claire found she was denied access to her mum's Facebook page too. What would happen in the next academic year? Would her mum help support her through university? It didn't look that way at present. However, Claire did spend more time at our house and often didn't go back to her room in the residence but just slept in my room on the guest bed. I think we both liked the friendship and companionship.
I also had two burdens. My impending session with Sir Charnock as part two of my three penalties, and of course come December, at the quarterly dinner-dance, my next session on stage. Having experienced it I was not less scared than the first time. Sir Charnock wasted no time at all in contacting me and chided me in his paternal way before allowing me the kindness of a break before correcting me in part two. At the duly appointed time a week later, I arrived at his house and a maid opened up and allowed me through into the same room where I had been paddled. There was a nice little crowd of his golf friends and their wives who seem to enjoy the social occasion of a 'correction' as much as the men.
Sir Charnock waited until I had taken off my skirt, tights and knickers before explaining to us all that he was going to give me the switch. He had discussed this with the Court of Gentlemen and they agreed that each stroke could be replaced with three with the switch. So I had three penalties, each worth three strokes or nine altogether, Multiply that by three and I was to get twenty seven with a switch. He had one of the gardeners cut and prepare a nice bundle of switches which now sat waiting eagerly in a ceramic umbrella stand filled with water.
I'll pass over it fairly quickly if you don't mind because that switching was hell. Bending over with my hands on my knees in the middle of a crowd (for that's what in effect it was) and trying to take my correction like a good girl was awful. The switch leaves a thin line of fire across your bottom that simply will not be ignored. Soon there are half a dozen of those fiery lines and the switch began to land on top of earlier ones. Keeping still and being good is very hard. Men, if you've got a girl to punish and you want to make it memorable I can now recommend a cheap alternative to canes, paddles and straps. Just go to your garden or a local park and cut a dozen whippy switches. Sir Charnock had me wriggling and crying by the half way mark and since I was not still he added a hal
f-dozen more. Even when it was all over I couldn't stand still but wriggled and danced around much to the delight of his guests. Lady Charnock then did her motherly act and I was whisked off to be cleaned up and dressed. On my return I got the usual kindly warm welcome from everyone with lots of hugs and kisses all round.
Once again I had the experience of going to work and sitting on a bum that just didn't want to be on a chair but I couldn't wriggle around as it would have drawn comment. I suppose I should regard that as part of the correction. However, the corrections, or punishments which is what they really are, worked. Claire and I vowed that we would never do any more investigating ever and I began to worry about how Claire could go to university if her mum didn't help her. Of course she could use the student loan service (but that is like a millstone round your neck later) and she could get part-time work but I plotted to see how I could get Dad to help out. I planned to use my money and stay a member as well by getting bar work or something so perhaps Dad would feel able to.
Late in November Claire stayed over on Friday night, her shift having ended early that evening. She was not on duty again until four in the afternoon of Saturday. My parents were off that Saturday to a large town for Christmas shopping and then the theatre so wouldn't be back until late. Claire and I couldn't be bothered to do anything so after lazing in bed for a long while got up, had breakfast, then went to my room and sat listening to music and chatting. Claire had become quite fascinated with the cane, not that she liked it but I suppose it was fairly important in her life now. She was eager to discuss the difference in size between the cane used in the House of Guardians and the one used on stage at the dinner-dances during Accountability. The one used at the dinner dances is of course longer so I suppose that means the bit hitting your bum arrives with more force; then too it is thicker though still flexible.
We talked about it for a while and then she asked, "Well what's the one like your dad uses on your mum?"
It was easier to show than to describe and Mum had shown me the one Dad used on her when I became a member so I simply went and got it from their suite. Dad keeps it behind the main door so it is always at hand for his use! It was easy to see it was shorter and thinner so altogether less frightening. I cannot explain to you what came over me. I suppose it was a sort of madness but I began swishing the cane through the air and talking like I was some sort of demented Guardian or senior man. I even put on a gruff voice.
"You there girl," I spoke gruffly to Claire, "Candthorpe. You're very naughty. You lied to Miss Freckleton about who you were. It is time for your Accountability. Take off all your clothes."
Claire giggled like mad and to my surprise she began to undress. Had she not done so a great deal would never have happened - such is life. That she was undressing fuelled my mad mood and I strutted around doing my demented man act. Finally she stood naked before me.
"Hands by your side girl, stand to attention. Ladies and Gentlemen, see this miserable, naughty girl? She deserves to be caned, doesn't she?"
Apparently my imaginary audience agreed and I made Claire lay face down on my bed. She was still giggling. Then I brought Dad's cane down on her bottom. It wasn't a tap but it wasn't a hard stroke, just a light one. It snapped across her bottom and she yelped and a red line appeared marking where it landed.
"Ooh that stung," she complained.
"It was meant to girl and it's not the last."
Claire giggled again so I snapped the cane down on her bottom (a lovely bottom I may add as she is a good looking girl) and she yelped again. I kept on snapping that cane down on her bottom and she yelped each time but made no move to stop me. It became fascinating watching the little tiny ripple of her skin when the cane landed and the gradual appearance of a red line on her bottom. I sort of kept count and when I got to twenty five I stopped. Her whole bottom was a mass of red lines and she was wriggling a great deal.
"Your correction is over Miss Candthorpe, you may stand."
She rushed to the mirror and stood wriggling and examining her bottom with great interest.
"That stings like mad Kate, you are a brute." She didn't sound in the least cross though, more amused.
I couldn't help myself I just stood giggling helplessly until suddenly she said, "Now you have been naughty. I am staff and you are a member and therefore not allowed to punish me yourself. It is time for your Accountability, Miss Naughty Freckleton. Undress immediately."
Of course I just shrugged, gave her the cane and started undressing too. She didn't dress herself but just pranced around the room stark naked like a loony, swishing the cane. When I was undressed she made me lie down on the bed and finding out I had hit her bum twenty five times decreed that was what I was to get.
Suddenly there was a sharp sting across my bottom and it was my turn to yelp. It wasn't awful but I knew the cane had landed all right. Each snap of the cane on my bottom made me yelp too just as it had Claire and the sting built up surprisingly for such little strokes. It became quite hard to lie still and take it. Soon I was wriggling and beginning to wish my turn was over. When Claire stopped my whole bottom was one big sting and I danced across to the mirror to stare with interest at the myriad of red lines adorning my bum.
Claire came over and we stood next to each other comparing bottoms. It was honours even, we both agreed and we rubbed our stinging bums for a moment before looking at one another. Then something changed. Claire stood looking at me with an intense expression I didn't understand but it kept me still and I found myself blushing. Slowly and gently she reached out for me and then very slowly moved her face closer to mine. Finally she began to kiss me. I don't mean as a friend, but as a lover.
I found myself kissing her back and our embrace became quite passionate. I felt her warm naked body against mine and it was lovely. Her scent too was so soft, almost like vanilla but not quite, some sort of gentle and quite intoxicating perfume that kept us passionately together.
She led me to the bed and I found myself lying on my back with Claire beside me and now she began to kiss, nuzzle and stroke me, behind my ears, neck, shoulders, breasts... she seemed to know just how to arouse and inflame me. It was as if she was in my mind reading just what I like. I lay there running my hands through her hair or down her back as she moved lower down my body. Finally she parted my legs. It seemed so natural and I just let her. She began to use her tongue and her fingers so cleverly, so delicately, I began to mewl and moan helpless to resist or even want to. My butterflies began, but this time they came, not in military battalions as they do with David, but in joyous dance formation, dancing through my body and making me shudder right down to my toes until finally I made a curious sound and relaxed as they flew off into the sky.
Claire lay smiling at me, stroking my hair and smiling gently. I didn't think, I just began to do to her what she had done to me. It all seemed to come naturally as I knew intuitively how to arouse her - a nuzzle there, a kiss here, a little bite just there. Her breasts were lovely. I had never realised how good it was and I heard Claire mewling even as I had done. When I reached between her legs I didn't hesitate though I had never done this before. I don't know what I expected from my tongue but the taste of her was lovely and made me want to do it more. I could feel her increasing arousal on my tongue. Suddenly she arched back up and I saw quite literally a ripple run down her tummy but she made no sound. We lay dreamily, entwined in each other's arms and I think we dozed. We had been making love for a very long time.
The end of this beauty was abrupt as Claire suddenly screeched, "Oh my God I am on duty soon. I mustn't be late I don't want Frau Weber seeing these marks."
She hurled herself out of bed and into her clothes as I shouted, "Borrow my bike. I'll walk up and get it."
She shouted her thanks but when she reached the door of my bedroom she stopped and came back, and gently holding my face in her hands, kissed me and said, "Thank you Kate." Then she left.
I dressed and put Dad's cane back and then began to th
ink about what had happened. I was bewildered. I'm not Gay at all but I had loved what I did with Claire. I couldn't help myself but rang Sandra and Jane at their home and asked if I could see them. They were going out later but said I could come round and sat listening patiently to my rambling account of my lovemaking with Claire.
"So what's the problem?" Jane eased her question with her kindly smile.
"Well I'm not Gay am I. Or am I?"
Sandra laughed a little, "Of course you're not, or bi-sexual either. Enjoying a sexual experience with another woman isn't unusual for a straight girl like you. Women know just how to turn each other on. Men can learn it but we know, it's in us so having sex with another woman is great even if you are straight. Just relax and enjoy it. You're having the best of both worlds aren't you? David is bonking you senseless and now you've had an entirely different experience.
"One thing though. Don't hurt Claire will you? She is very vulnerable where you are concerned."
"Why?"
"Don't you know? She is hopelessly in love with you!"
I didn't know how to respond at first but eventually stammered out that I couldn't love Claire like that. David yes and I felt as if I was really falling for him, but not Claire, not like that.
Sandra was gentle. "Claire knows that, she has settled for friendship and maybe the odd bit of lovemaking but she knows you can't give more. Still, just don't hurt her OK?"
Back home I realised just how much I was learning about myself, my sexuality and about others. I suddenly felt very young.
Chapter 19
As Christmas approached Father Christmas must have been anticipating coming to Chapel Island - that is if it is true that the naughty ones get spanked instead of presents. So many naughty women were down on the list for the dinner-dance it was a record, with no less than twelve bottoms redeeming penalties. Of course most were just one penalty. Aileen had managed three so was joining me at the top of the list. Jane, Sandra's partner was on there with two, together with Mum who had also picked up two in one day and whose bottom was sore even before Dad took her off to the study. Then there were eight with one penalty. Some I only vaguely knew but Samantha and Jane (Jane Spence not Sandra's Jane) from my first Accountability were back again. Angela Whaley was now the eldest, being in her mid-fifties. That one created a problem as she should have been hosting the ladies in the Robing Room as her husband was compère. Instead Lady Forbes had to do it again and Mr Whaley would be compèring his own wife's correction. There were five other ladies of which the most interesting was Sylvia Dark. She was John Dark's wife and they were the new couple that had replaced Mr and Mrs Canterbury. She would be very nervous I guessed. This time I would be last so would have to wait through eleven other punishments as Aileen would be before me, going alphabetically.
