Reformed Characters

by Sarah Veitch

  I stared shamefacedly at the ground and my buttocks trembled. 'Shouldn't my husband be the one to punish me?' I croaked eventually, as he positioned me more firmly across his muscled lap.

  The man laughed low in his throat, the laugh of someone who understands the weakness of humanity. 'That would mean you'd have to tell him about your crime.'

  'But telling him would hurt him so much,' I whispered, imagining the shock on my beloved's face.

  'Exactly,' said the man. 'That's why it's best that I'm the one to liven up your buttocks.' He hoisted me higher and peeled my nightie back to reveal my naked cheeks. 'Nuns used to whip their own backs as a penance. I'm absolving you of your guilt by spanking your adulterous arse.'

  'And afterwards I won't be kept awake at night remembering my misdeeds?' I queried softly.

  My tormentor gave a half-snort of amusement. 'After this rump-heating reprimand you'll sleep the sleep of the just.'

  I winced and wriggled as he pinched my newly-bared globes then I cried out as his palm slapped down across the centre. I was just starting to inhale when he went on to toast the left cheek then the right. God, a bare-bummed spanking hurt! I wouldn't have believed that a palm could make the flesh sting with such ferocity, was overwhelmed by the sudden heat and the heavy slapping sounds. When I briefly lifted my head I saw Annette's scarlet rump twitch with silent sympathy. Cringing some more, I closed my eyes.

  I opened them again when he stopped berating my helpless flesh. Was that it? Did I get to smooth my nightie down and go home to bed now? 'That's Part One of your correction ended. You don't get to go home till you've tasted Part Two,' the suited man said. Then he pulled my flimsy nightdress over my head so that I was completely exposed to his gaze and groping hands.

  'What's Part Two?' I mumbled, as Annette looked over her shoulder at my spherical hanging breasts. 'Six of the cane on the bare,' the man said.

  'Six?' I echoed dully, trying not to think of the pain.

  'Six because you spent six hours in a stranger's bed when you should have been with your husband,' the stranger confirmed. He picked me up and started to carry me towards a chunky whipping stool. 'You're getting off lightly, Sarah,' he continued. 'The girl who's here after you is receiving eight.' Six and eight were pretty similar, I thought mutinously as he bent me over the stool and started to tie my wrists and ankles to its thick frame legs. 'You wouldn't say that if you had a prior acquaintance with the rattan,' my mind-reader said.

  'What's a rattan?' I asked warily.

  'It's a long flexible cane,' said the man, 'ideal for striping an exposed bare bottom.'

  'I've heard a caning really hurts,' I admitted, aware of my growing bondaged helplessness. I took a deep breath. 'What if... what if I can't bear all six strokes?'

  'Would you rather bear the endless pain of an unwanted divorce?' asked the stranger who'd been sent to purge me of my guilt and give me repentance.

  'Alright, lay on your bloody birch,' I muttered sourly, then whimpered as he walked to the cupboard and returned with a rod which curved and tautened as he swished it through the air. 'I'll be good,' I gasped belatedly.

  'A sound thrashing with this beauty will make you perfect,' my corrector said.

  I felt him trail the cane up and down my bum then move it back, obviously lining it up with the portion he wanted to chasten. Seconds later the first streak of pain emblazoned its trail across my arse.

  'Mmmmm,' I groaned. I longed to put my hands back and rub and rub and rub at my punished contours but my wrists were firmly tied in place.

  When I'd stopped squirming, the stranger laid on the second stroke further down. 'Two's company,' he said with a smile .in his voice. I could tell he was enjoying my shameful writhing. Couldn't he just get it over with, I thought rebelliously.

  'No,' he said, obviously hearing my reflections again. 'It'll make more of an impact if you feel humiliated, if you have to wait.' He stroked my sore raised globes. 'And Annette's enjoying watching you taste the rod, Sarah. She likes the way you squeal and buck.' Did she now, the little traitor. Tensing my mouth into a firm line I promised myself that I wouldn't cry out or wriggle again.

  I did, of course. The sheer focused heat of the cane makes a girl change her mind pretty quickly. I yelled and tried to drum my feet as the third stroke striped the space between the previous stripes. 'Bulls-eye,' said the man, and Annette giggled, then she whistled as he applied the fourth stroke down low. It stung the especially sensitive crease at my thighs, and I jumped and moved my hips the little I could as if to shake off the anguish. The thought of two more lashes made my poor bottom quail. 'Lightly stroke her clit, Annette,' the stranger ordered, obviously aware of my suffering. 'Tease it good.'

  I cowered more closely against the stool as I heard her cross the room towards my heated buttocks, felt something brush against the central source of my pleasure and realised with a shock that I was soaking wet. 'Good girl,' the man murmured, and I couldn't tell if he meant me or Annette. I was beyond being good. I was... desperate, came with a suddenness and an intensity I hadn't known I possessed. 'Aaah !' I groaned into the warm atmosphere of the basement. 'Ah, ah, ah, ah, aaaaah.' There was a silence for a moment after my orgasm came to its end, a silence punctuated only by my stenorous breathing and the sound of my pubic hair rubbing against the edge of the stool.

  'Right, Annette - go home and be virtuous,' the stranger said.

  'As you wish, sir,' murmured the girl. I sensed the change in the air currents as she left the basement, heard the door click closed behind her.

  'Now it's just you and me and the rattan,' my tormentor continued. 'I hope you enjoyed that spectacular climax, Sarah, for your bum still has to endure a little more pain.'

  I held my breath as he traced the rattan over my helpless hemispheres, then I let it out in a gasp as he striped the lower portion of my bum with the slender rod. 'Just one remaining, sweetheart,' he confirmed. 'One more lash and we'll have put the world to rights.'

  I didn't think the world would be put to rights till I'd lain my hot cheeks in a freezing basin of water for at least an hour. Still I nodded grimly, then whispered, 'Show mercy to me, please.'

  Maybe his arm was just tired, or perhaps he sensed I was close to my limit. Whatever, the last stroke, though significant, brought a low deep pleasure as well as the inevitable pain. 'Now lie there for a moment and contemplate your actions,' he said as I lay submissively across the smooth hard wood.

  'You won't ever have to punish me again,' I gasped, 'I swear. It was just... Michael and I had a fight. I was angry at him so went alone to this party. One of the male party guests was so understanding, so nice.'

  'And going to bed with him was nice. But being spanked and caned isn't so nice, is it, my dear?' my Conscience prompted.

  I shook my head. 'No, sir. It hurts like hell.'

  'But it's better than staying awake every night feeling guilty,' continued the stranger. 'From this moment forth you'll be able to put your adulterous actions out of your head.'

  He untied me and helped me to my feet. For a moment I doubted if I could walk, then the strength flowed back into my limbs and I stepped stiffly towards my nightdress. As I reached for it, I heard the door swing open again.

  A brunette of around twenty-two stood there. She was staring at my glowing bottom. Hastily I covered it with my satin shift. 'You're a couple of minutes early, Leila,' the man said. 'So was Sarah and her predecessor. Naughty girl's arse cheeks are surprisingly punctual tonight.'

  As I walked past Leila, I looked at the frilled pyjamas she was wearing and knew she wouldn't get to keep them on for very long. She had eight of the cane coming to her on her poor bare bottom. I wondered if she'd get a thorough spanking first.

  'Goodbye, sir, and thank you,' I murmured as I walked across the room. I felt purged and clean and genuinely grateful.

  'Have a good life,' the man said evenly. I smiled as I walked up the stairs.

  A moment later I found myself on a vaguely familia
r piece of ground with a large house behind me. As I looked around for a landmark I heard a strange swishing sound coming from the basement, followed by an anguished cry. It sounded like a cane hitting flesh - must be something on the television I thought, starting to walk towards the flat I shared with Michael, something with erotic sound effects.

  I tried to massage away the heavy pull at my pubes and realised with shock that I was wearing my nightdress. Good grief, I'd been sleepwalking in the open air this time. Merging with the shadows I hurried home and clambered into the marital Four Poster, moaned with pleasure as my strangely hot bare bum rubbed against the bed.

  'Got the wanderlust again, have you, sweetheart?' Michael murmured lovingly, as he took me in his strong arms and kissed my forehead.

  'No, just the lust,' I whispered, putting my hand between his legs.

  Naughty But Nice

  Any second now he'd walk through the Waiting Room door. Gemma smoothed her sable-coloured stockings up her long legs, then used the same hand to raise her skirt two inches further. Bob's previous patient had been showing half of a very full cleavage; competition was obviously fierce.

  Not that she, Gemma, needed to visit the Dental Surgery to see Bob. He lived virtually across the road from her and they'd been on two casual dates together. She hoped that during this check up he'd ask her for a third.

  'Open wide,' Bob Neeson said a few minutes later. He probed carefully at her molars with a thin metal implement. 'You've been eating sweets again.'

  'It's so hard to resist them, especially after a long day's work at the nursery,' Gemma sighed, hoping that her pupils had dilated to show that she thought him irresistible.

  'Dentist's orders - no more chocolate,' the man warned. He walked away and began to nonchalantly insert his tools in the sterilising oven. 'What you need is the carrot and the stick approach.' Gemma was glad that he'd turned his back to her at the mention of a stick. She shifted uneasily on her skirted bottom. 'Agreed, then?' the dental surgeon continued, walking back to her. 'You cut out sweets from your diet or get the caning of your life.'

  Had he really just said that. Gemma blushed and looked away and blushed some more, then finally muttered, 'You wouldn't!'

  'Think of it as a quasi-medical experiment to save your teeth,' the dental surgeon said tranquilly.

  For a fortnight Gemma avoided eating chocolate in any form, then strong cravings claimed her. Sneaking out to the village sweet shop that lunchtime she bought a large slab of Belgian chocolate and a small box of rum truffles and ate it all.

  When she got home that night, Bob Neeson was waiting at her door. 'You've been a very bad girl,' he said softly.

  Gemma felt new heat rush to her face and immediately felt guilty. 'Prove it,' she muttered, hiding the tell-tail carrier bag behind her back.

  'I've heard word,' the dentist continued, 'from friends who live across from the sweet shop. Wear your prettiest panties when you attend my surgery at 9pm.'

  'Why...?' Gemma forced out. She felt weak with desire and dread, moved her shoulders in a half-shrugging gesture.

  'Because I like to admire a girl's knickers before I remove them,' the dentist replied.

  He was going to pull down her pants. Gemma felt excited and afraid at the shameful prospect. As she stood beneath the shower, she tried to envisage the cane's harsh bite. After much thought, the nursery owner put on her comeliest lemon satin panties. They clung invitingly to her rounded bum cheeks and were cut flatteringly high at the sides. Bob Neeson would take one look at her nether charms and forget about chastising her. He'd more than likely kiss her cutely-clothed arse.

  She entered the surgery at the appropriate time. He was relaxing in his Staff Room, sitting on a long settee of reddish leather.

  'Come here and lie over my knee, Miss Wainright,' he said.

  'And if I don't?'

  'I'll tell the village parents that you don't clean your teeth very well, that you're not a good role model for running a nursery. I'll also suggest that you eat chocolate there when you know that it's encouraging the children to want sweets.'

  'Make me, then,' Gemma muttered, unable to bend across his knee of her own volition.

  'My pleasure.' The man crossed the room and pulled her firmly towards the seating area, sat down and hauled her across his trousered thighs.

  For a few seconds Gemma forgot to breathe, so deep was her ignominy. Then she felt his hands stroking her skirted haunches and she breathed deep and fast. God, he had a nice touch - very soothing. It was hard to imagine these same hands wielding a merciless cane.

  'I like your skirt,' Bob Neeson said in a soft considering tone, 'I hope that I'll be equally pleased with your panties.'

  'I got them last Christmas,' Gemma answered stupidly, 'from my Mum.'

  'And does Mummy know that you've been eating sweets and bringing on tooth decay?' the dental surgeon murmured.

  Gemma swallowed hard then shook her head. She shook some more as the dentist pushed her skirt far up her waist, her tremors a mixture of desire and degradation. Her quivering increased as he began to fondle her buttocks through her pants. 'Mmm,' she murmured as her rapture increased, her nipples hardening. Slow waves of pleasure rippled across her stomach and between her legs.

  'I wonder if you'll cry out by the time I've finished your warm-up spanking?' Bob Neeson asked softly, 'I wonder if you'll beg?'

  She was ready to beg for an orgasm now. Even as Gemma thought the thought she felt warm fingers dragging at the waistband of her pants and edging the material down to expose her café au lait buttocks. The nursery owner was glad that she'd recently holidayed by the beach. It was nerve-wracking having a new partner unbare your bum, but at least it was a nicely tanned bum. Though judging by the movements of Bob's firm arm, her tanning was about to increase...

  She made a strange little sound as his palm lashed into her rump for the very first time. Ah, that was stimulating rather than painful. She relaxed somewhat over his lap as the spanks took on a steady rhythmic feel. After a few moments the tingles turned to a hot ache, and she wriggled more fiercely. Still the spanking intensified and she began to writhe.

  'Are you almost finished?' she muttered, ineffectually kicking her small feet backwards.

  'On the contrary, I've hardly started,' the dental surgeon replied. He hoisted her higher upon his knee and whacked both overheated globes with his large male palm.

  'What if I find that I can't bear it?' Gemma whispered, trying to test him.

  'Well, you're free to find a less diligent dentist instead.' He spanked again at her reddening flesh. 'You've been so lacking in self-discipline, so verywilful. You must see that I'm giving you a hot arse for the greater good.'

  In some ways he wasn't kidding - this would put her off eating sweets forever. Gemma tried to remind herself of this fact as her punisher smacked on and on. Even so, she couldn't help but emit little squeals and grunts and groans, couldn't help but wriggle. She must look a pretty picture, bare-bummed and quivering over his knee. 'Ah!' she gasped, as a particularly hard whack landed across the deep divide of her raised bare buttocks. 'Ouch,' she added as Bob Neeson thrashed each silken globe.

  'Oh dear, you really shouldn't make so much noise - it makes a peaceful dentist angry,' Bob Neeson murmured, 'and when my spanking palm's enraged...'

  'I'll be quiet, sir,' Gemma whispered, trying to fill her voice with sweet obsequiousness. Maybe if she sounded suitably submissive he'd bring her correction to an end. She didn't want to ask him to stop - she had her pride to °think of. She held her whimpers behind gritted teeth.

  'Good girl,' the dental surgeon murmured, and Gemma felt a rush of emotional pleasure. It was followed by a surge of shame as she realised that he was now fondling her bottom with one self-assured hand. She quivered with increasing trepidation as he parted her buttocks then trailed a finger down the crevice. 'Do you know, even your crack is feeling hotter,' he murmured. 'The heat must transmit through.'

  'It feels very hot, sir,'
Gemma admitted, her voice wavering.

  'It looks deliciously scarlet and anxious,' her dominator said.

  Could a bottom look anxious? Gemma realised that it must do as Bob Neeson continued to stare down at it. Her fiery orbs twitched and puckered up and squirmed as she wondered what he was planning next.

  'I'm just giving this arse a break before I renew your spanking,' he said, continuing his over-intimate caresses. 'That way a bad bum can take much more.'

  'Gee - how considerate!' Gemma muttered sarcastically, and the spanking began again.

  The man spanked at her lower curves, at her upper cheeks, in the centre. He spanked over her furrow and whacked at the tender crease where buttock meets thigh.

  'Oh please,' Gemma whispered, as the heat in her curved flesh intensified.

  'Please what, angel?' the dental surgeon replied.

  'Please stop,' she gasped out, reaching her hands back towards her punished buttocks. 'Sir, I beg - I've had enough!'

  'Enough of the spanking? Alright, let's have a little chat then progress to your caning,' her dominator said, taking his palm away. Gemma felt an unwanted surge of lust at the mention of the cane. She must subconsciously want to feel the rod on her bottom, she reasoned, else why would she have visited the surgery like this? Gemma lay over the dentist's strong knee in a daze of heightened arousal. Every brain cell seemed to concentrate on her already-chastened rear.

  'You mean you're still going to cane me?' she whispered apprehensively.

  'Yes, I'm going to give you six red stripes to take home with you,' the dentist said. He brushed his hand lightly across her pubic bone till she groaned with renewed wanting. 'I take it you've no objections, dear?' he asked.

  The young woman hesitated for a moment. She really hungered to make love to him right now, but he obviously wanted to use the rod on her rump as a further form of foreplay. As the spanking had made her moist he presumably figured that the caning would make her wet.

  'I don't know if I can bear the cane,' she muttered, trying to conjure up its focused impact.