Corrective Measures

by Sarah Veitch

  'Let's get creative. Describe your punished arse to me,' her Master murmured, his voice containing a smile.

  'It's... very exposed and... um... tender all over where it's been spanked,' Shari mumbled, closing her eyes against this new degradation. 'And I can feel the cane's separate weals.'

  'I can see them, and very pretty they look too,' her husband murmured from his seat in the background. Reminded that there were two men staring at her red rotundities, Shari groaned.

  'I think I'll lay the seventh stroke a little further up. They say that seven is lucky for some, but not for your twitching cheeks,' the stranger said softly. Shari felt the rod smack into her newly-raised bare bottom and she squealed again.

  'Please put the eighth stroke further down,' she whispered beseechingly. 'Oh sir, please!'

  'I usually let her off when she begs so prettily,' came Jules' voice, his tone thoughtful, 'but being merciful obviously hasn't done our marriage any good.'

  Shari whimpered as her submissively bent bare bottom awaited the final stroke. Her Master teased her with the rod, tracing it across the seven existing lines and keeping her in an agony of anticipation. 'I favour that nice tender line where your thigh backs meet your bottom,' he said at last. Shari tried to push her belly more firmly into the stool but the wood held her buttocks fully raised. Other than letting herself slide over the top of the stool, she couldn't escape her thrashing. And anyway she'd agreed to this caning as a way of absolving her earlier sin. She wanted to show her husband that she valued their relationship, that she was truly sorry for that snatched illicit kiss.

  'I've got the reddest arse in the world, but I'm accepting the eighth stroke to show that I love you, Jules,' she said into the Punishment Room. Then she twitched that same sore arse and asked nicely for the cane.

  Her Master mercifully applied the final stroke where she'd asked him too - but it was still low and long and swishy. Shari moaned loudly and writhed the little she could upon the cruelly-raised corrective seat. 'Can I get down and kiss your feet now, Master?' she asked humbly when her wriggling had subsided. She wanted to hug the man's knees and plant little kisses on his shoes. Then she wanted to crawl to Jules and please him with her hands and lips.

  'No, stay where you are and try not to twitch your chastened bum,' her dominator ordered. 'I like a slave's arse to remain in situ for ten minutes after it's been thrashed.'

  'But I feel so exposed,' Shari whispered, opening her eyes to stare ahead of her at the martinets and paddles.

  'Use the time to reflect on your wrongdoings,' the disciplinarian replied.

  Shari lay there, contemplating her smarting scarlet globes. After an unspecified time she heard footsteps approach them. She tensed as an exploratory finger was teased down her sensitive buttock crack. 'Relax. It's me,' Jules whispered, his knowing hands sliding under her tum to seek out her rosebud of pleasure. Shari groaned with excitement at the prospect of relief. Then she heard her Master's voice. 'Show control, dear. I don't want you to come for at least twenty minutes. If you disobey me you'll be back here for a tawsing next week.'

  Playing The Game

  Coming here had been a mistake. Becky stared sullenly around the amusement arcade. Thanks to Paul she'd seen most of the arcades in Scotland during the past few days. She'd only gone on this touring holiday with the people from her work because she secretly fancied him. She'd thought that the feeling was mutual when he'd suggested they separate from the rest...

  But he'd merely driven her to town after town to sample the gaming parlours. Now Becky tugged at his elbow. 'I'm going mad with boredom here. Can we leave?'

  'But I've got a hold,' Paul muttered, not taking his eyes from the flashing symbols before him.

  'Bloody machine!' Enraged beyond endurance, Becky pulled her foot back and kicked it hard. Paul kept playing. Her anger growing, she aimed her ankle boot at the next machine and the next.

  She was throwing herself on the fourth flashing box when strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and lifted her away from the slot-based devices. At last Paul had noticed her. Becky let her body relax against his chest. Then she stiffened as an unfamiliar male voice spoke slowly but assuredly in her ear.

  'We don't tolerate vandalism in this town,' it said. Becky felt herself being set down, being held in situ. Then the man turned her around to face him, still keeping his fingers on her upper arms.

  'I... it was just a moment's anger,' Becky stammered, daring a quick glance at the guy. He looked to be about ten years her senior.

  'A moment's anger can have lasting repercussions,' her captor said.

  Becky looked at his hands, at the way they were wrapped around her flesh. She was beginning to feel trapped and a little bit frightened. 'I'm truly sorry,' she muttered. 'I'll pay.'

  'Oh you'll pay all right,' said the man.

  Becky looked wildly around for Paul. He was standing about three feet away, his mouth half-open. 'I'm with my friend Paul,' Becky said. She waited for her colleague to step closer, to defend her.

  'Nothing to do with me. She and I just work together,' Paul offered with a sheepish grin. He looked back at the machine he'd been playing. 'I just need one more nudge to make this baby sing for its supper. Can you give me another quid's worth of ten pence pieces, mate?'

  'Sorry, I'm closing the arcade to deal with this little vandal,' the man replied in a calm but no-nonsense kind of voice. He looked at his watch. 'You can come back for her in three hours if you want to. By then she should have learned her lesson properly.'

  'If she needs bail, don't look at me. I'm down to my last tenner,' Paul added in what Becky thought was an appallingly casual voice.

  'It's certainly going to cost your friend dear,' the older man said.

  Paul left. Becky watched him go. The arcade manager kept holding her lightly.

  'Is there any way that I can make amends?' she murmured, parting her lips and looking up into his inscrutable brown eyes.

  The man smiled a long slow smile which gave her ample time to scan his lightly-stubbled features. 'Certainly. You can rectify the situation by going over my knee,' he explained, striding over to lock the arcade doors.

  'But that's not right!' Becky gasped. Inside her white satin bra her nipples tingled.

  'Nor is sabotaging my property,' her new dominator said.

  So he owned this place! That meant he'd seriously care about the arcade and its contents. That meant he had even more reason to tan her hide. 'Can't I just give you my holiday spending money?' the twenty-one year old parried, looking insinuatingly at her cash-filled shoulder bag.

  'No, you can give me your naked bottom across my lap right this minute - or get ready to appear in court,' the man replied.

  He seemed to take her nervous silence for an affirmative. Leastways, he marched her towards the long couch which ran along the arcade's entire back wall, and settled himself upon it. Then he pulled her over his knee.

  'What if someone peers in?' Becky muttered, not sure how much they'd see of her imminent chastisement.

  'Then they'll see me turn a disobedient white bum to a supplicating scarlet,' the manager said.

  'Shouldn't we be formally introduced?' Becky quipped, trying to take his thoughts and words away from her helpless buttocks.

  'I'm Ged Alcott, but just call me sir,' her tormentor said. Becky murmured her own name, but he didn't seem to be listening. Instead she felt his hands patiently edging up her leather skirt and then equally slowly pulling down her silken pants. 'What a pretty little arse,' he mused. 'I'm going to enjoy thrashing it soundly. I'm going to make it very sore indeed.'

  'Screw you,' Becky muttered, squirming about at his mocking and shameful words.

  'Well, I don't know about that, but I may relieve your hungry little clit in an hour or two,' the arcade owner continued, hoisting her higher upon his knee. He yanked her little panties down even further so that they settled at her mid-calves. 'But for now I want to concentrate on tenderising this defenceless fle
sh.'

  Becky sensed that he'd raised his palm. She shut her eyes. Then she opened them wide and gasped as he slapped strenuously at her right buttock. Before she could protest, he'd doled out an equally harsh spank to the left.

  'Ouch!' she muttered, realising that no one had ever spanked her on the bare before. 'You pig! That stings like hell!'

  'It's meant to - it's reparation for trying to wreck my business,' Ged said.

  He toasted both disarmed buttocks again then repeated the smarting gesture. He slapped hard at the creamy white flesh from just below her waist to the sensitive silky underswell.

  'Ah,' Becky muttered. 'Oh. Ow! Aargh! Uh! Jesus!'

  'Spare me the soundtrack,' her determined disciplinarian said.

  'But it really stings,' Becky whispered, lifting and turning her head with effort to look back at him.

  'Would you rather have a police record and be sentenced to community service?' Ged asked.

  'Well, no, I...' A record could affect her future career prospects.

  'Then take your spanking and caning without complaint,' the arcade owner said.

  Becky exhaled hard and long against the leather settee at the mention of this further chastisement. 'A caning?' she whispered, the chagrined heat rushing to the hirsute curve between her legs.

  'Yes, six strict strokes of the cane with you bent over the snooker table,' Ged Alcott explained, stroking her bare bottom.

  'Could I at least... you know... smooth my skirt down again?' Becky mumbled, wriggling about even more nervously upon his knee.

  'No - I like a girl to taste the rod on her nude buttocks,' the disciplinarian parried.

  Becky gulped again. 'But isn't six strokes a lot to bear?'

  'Undoubtedly,' Ged confirmed. He caressed her quivering extremities. 'I had to use it just recently when a female customer with an account here ran up significant debts. She didn't want to go to prison so I offered her the option of a caning. She howled from the first stroke to the last.' He added two more echoing spanks to Becky's rump. 'She put her hands back to protect her arse so I had to give her an extra stripe with the larger reformatory rod. I hope you won't make a similar mistake.'

  'Couldn't I just have a longer spanking?' Becky murmured beseechingly.

  'You could, but it wouldn't be sufficiently daunting. And anyway I like to see a bad girl writhe beneath the cane.'

  Slowly he helped the twenty-one year old to her feet. She leaned against him, thighs weak with humiliation. 'There are other alternatives,' she whispered, brushing a hand against his groin.

  'You'll feel the rod bite more deeply now because you tried to distract me,' said the arcade owner coolly, marching her towards the green baize table. Becky wished yet again that she hadn't vandalised his machines.

  'I've already been punished by the spanking and by being half undressed by you,' she muttered, her buttocks trembling at the prospect of this further shaming.

  'I'll know when you've been truly punished because that hot little arse will beg for forgiveness,' the man said.

  Christ, he was crude! But the girl forgot all about his words as he started to encourage her gently over the snooker table. As her tummy brushed the bulk cushion she hesitated then glanced over her shoulder at Ged.

  'Remember how cathartic this will be for you, how it'll cleanse you of your bad temper and mood swings,' he said.

  'Well, go easy on me,' she whispered, lowering herself over the green baize so that her bum was a reluctant naked sacrifice.

  'I'll be strict without being merciless,' the arcade owner explained.

  Becky let her lids flutter down so that she couldn't watch her tormentor fetch the slender stick. Then she opened her eyes again for not seeing was a form of sensory deprivation. All she could think about was the exposed soft target of her haunches, of the cane that Ged Alcott was approaching with.

  'What if it's too much for me?' she mumbled nervously.

  'You can cover your bottom with your hands at any moment and ask me to call the police and report you for vandalism instead,' the man responded, flexing the rod between his hands. He walked behind her and then seemed to stand in situ. Becky shivered, knowing that he was studying her proffered curves.

  Then a stinging line emblazoned its way across her flesh and she forgot about what she looked like. Forgot about everything except that one red stripe which heated her sensitive sphere.

  'Uh,' she groaned, half getting up from the snooker table.

  'Five more to go until you leave here, honey,' Ged Alcott said.

  Becky thought about taking the option of a court appearance. Then he put his hand on her back to help her down again and as his fingers brushed her spine she shivered with unexpected desire. 'Wouldn't you rather give me a kiss?' she whispered, peeking round at him and licking her lips invitingly.

  'I'd rather give you the hottest arse in the universe,' her dominator said.

  Becky cried out again as he laid on the second stripe. She could tell from the air currents that he wasn't drawing the cane back far, was merely bouncing it against her haunches. But the focused thinness of the cane and the tenderness caused by the earlier spanking meant that her soft globes were both susceptibly aglow. Four to go, she told herself. Just four more painful swishes. Then I get the pardon which I crave.

  Ged Alcott seemed to crave turning her into a girl who wouldn't sit down for a week. 'You're squirming so nicely,' he said. 'Your bottom's all fiery and red. And it wriggles every time I move my arm back because it knows what's coming next.'

  'Full marks for observation!' Becky snapped. She sucked in her breath and wondered if he'd cane her more firmly for insubordination. Howled when he laid on the third stripe extra hard.

  'Only three more strokes till you get to look at your sore cheeks in the mirror,' the arcade owner said matter-of-factly. 'Most women feel proud at that bit.'

  Did they, now? The twenty-one year old shivered with degradation and mild desire at the very prospect. Then she flinched, gasped and swung her body from side to side as Ged Alcott laid on stroke four.

  'Oh it hurts, it hurts,' she wailed, jumping up and clutching her crimson cheeks, trying to rub away the soreness.

  'Of course it hurts. It's punishment,' her dominator said. He looked at her sternly. 'I warned you what would happen if you didn't obediently hold the position. Now I'm going to have to display your haunches more fully and more vulnerably. And after the sixth stroke you'll have to endure a seventh with the stricter reformatory cane.'

  'Yes sir,' Becky whispered. She realised that for some strange reason she no longer wanted to fight him. She would try to endure the rest of her flogging stoically.

  Nevertheless, she whimpered as the arcade owner returned with two plump cushions which he set on the snooker table.

  'Where do you think these are going, my disobedient young miss?'

  'Under my belly, sir,' Becky said with guttural submission.

  'Why?'

  'Because...' She toed the ground with one bare foot. 'Oh hell!'

  'Say it,' said the man, 'or it'll not go well for your haunches.'

  'You use... you use the cushions to push my bottom up higher into the air.'

  'Your bare bottom,' the man instructed.

  'My bare bottom, sir,' Becky said.

  'Good girl,' he murmured as she arched her body to let him place the pillows above her mons. She pushed her thighs apart and felt hugely wanton. 'Such a pretty little bum,' Ged continued. He traced the cane lines as he spoke and Becky thought that she'd faint with the rush of carnal craving which enveloped her lower flesh. Her mind shrank from this subordinate situation but her body was excited at being half stripped and exhibited like this.

  Now that the bolsters were in situ her buttocks were even more obscenely displayed. Becky closed her eyes and tried to think of Paul whom she'd so recently fancied but she could hardly remember what he looked like. She tried to think of work, of her friends, of home. Instead her mind came back again and again to the ignomi
ny of her raised naked hemispheres, to their imminent fate.

  'Just do it - just lay the cane on,' she whispered raggedly.

  'Oh, I'm admiring the view too much to rush things,' her newfound tutor said. She heard a smile enter his voice. 'I want you to think about this the next time that you're tempted to take your bad mood out on some innocent victim. Think about how it feels being stripped and exhibited like this.'

  Becky was thinking about just that when he laid on lash number four. Thereafter all she could concentrate on was her smarting tissues. She rubbed them quickly and skulked around on her belly but otherwise stayed obediently in place.

  'Now for the fifth one,' said Ged. 'I think you'll have to take it slightly further down. That particular section of those naughty globes doesn't look quite as red.'

  'Even it up, why don't you?' Becky muttered then snivelled as he did just that.

  Time for the last one, she told herself, gripping the table's end. Her body was puckering and unpuckering of its own volition. She could imagine how it looked to Ged's coolly assessing gaze.

  'Like what you see?' she whispered throatily.

  'I like it even better at the moment of impact,' her disciplinarian said. He ran the rod down her tremulous orbs in a warning gesture. 'The arse drives forward as the cane bites into it then it comes all the way out again as if mutely begging for the next stern stroke.'

  'You're a pig!' Becky muttered.

  'No, I'm a civilised man who doesn't appreciate having his business destroyed by a bad tempered wretch.'

  He had a point. She'd started this whole painful business. 'Okay, I'm sorry,' the twenty-one year old forced out. 'Please lay on stroke six.'

  The man traced the cane along her haunches some more whilst she squirmed in anticipation on the cushions. Then he obliged.

  'Now put your hands on your head and walk to the mirror,' he said. Becky stood up and followed his pointing finger. Her panties bunched at her ankles making her punishment walk restrained and mortified.

  'Impressed by my handiwork?' Ged asked.