S is for Spanking

S for Spanking

Lucy Salisbury

Table of Contents

Title Page

Prologue: Lucy, Juliette and the Cane

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

Prologue

Lucy, Juliette and the Cane

I could remember every detail of the day Juliette Fisher first gave me the cane. It was an experience so full of shame and yet so exciting that I had never been able to come to terms with it, any more than I’d been able to get over the feelings of subservience she’d generated within me. Obedience to a strong, cruel will had become the key to my sexuality, along with the pain and shame of physical punishment, just as that first caning became the key to her relationship with me.

The chill of the air on my bare legs as I ran, the faint tang of burning leaves, the autumn colours on the trees along the river, every detail has remained clear in my mind ever since. Juliette was leaning on the rail of the bridge, tall and poised in black jeans and a sweater, Sunday clothes, her long dark hair caught up in a ponytail, a faint but wicked smile on her lips. I already knew I was in trouble, and just as surely I knew that I’d fight, and lose.

‘Hello, Lucy.’

She sounded cheerful. My own voice was a sigh.

‘Hello, Juliette.’

‘Why didn’t you report to my study this morning?’

‘Because … because I didn’t want to be spanked!’

‘You didn’t want to be spanked? And what did we say about your spankings?’

‘But somebody might have heard, and then they’d know, and …’

‘What did we say about your spankings, Lucy? Answer me!’

I was looking at my feet as I answered, barely able to mumble the words.

‘We said they had to be real, so you could do it whenever you felt I needed it, or … or if I’d been naughty.’

Just to say the word made me choke with shame, but there was no denying the sudden heat between my thighs. It was ridiculous that I went to her for spankings, impossibly inappropriate, let alone as punishment for my supposed naughtiness. Yet it happened and it was going to happen again, because however small and stupid and weak it made me feel, I needed it and I needed it from her. She knew, and she was enjoying herself, drawing out my humiliation as she went on.

‘Yes, Lucy, if you’d been naughty, and you had been naughty, hadn’t you?’

‘Not really, no.’

‘No? Going about with no knickers on under your skirt?’

‘You made me take them off!’

‘That’s irrelevant. It’s disgraceful, going about with no knickers, but it’s not as bad as failing to report for your spanking. You’re in big trouble, Lucy, but I’m not going to spank you.’

‘No?’

My disappointment showed in my voice even as relief washed over me. I’d been imagining how I’d look, laid across Juliette’s knee with my knickers pulled well down and my bare bottom stuck up in the air, my cheeks bouncing to the slaps as she spanked me, a vision at once horrible and deeply compelling. Now it looked as if it wasn’t going to happen, or so I thought for a moment.

‘No, Lucy, I’m not going to spank you. I’m going to cane you.’

‘Cane me? What do you mean, cane me?’

‘I mean, Lucy, exactly what I say. I’m going to cane you. I’m going to make you touch your toes, I’m going to turn up your skirt and pull down your knickers, supposing you have any on, and I’m going to give you six of the best on your bare bottom.’

I tried to answer her, but all that came out was a squeak as she took me by the ear. There was every chance that somebody would see, and I was struggling immediately, but she didn’t seem to care. I was led up the bank towards the main buildings, where altogether too many people were milling about and she was forced to let go. Not that it made any difference. She had me, and I followed like a puppy at heel, across the quad and indoors, where she took hold of me again, this time by my arm, to march me up to the first floor and along the corridor to the study she shared with two other girls.

Nobody seemed to be about, to my immense relief, but that came to an abrupt end when I was pushed in through the door to find both Emily and Claire seated at their desks. Both knew there was something between me and Juliette, while Juliette had already told me that it would turn her on to punish me in front of somebody else, so my fear and chagrin turned to something close to panic as I realised I was about to have an audience. It never even occurred to me that I could have walked away, or told Juliette she’d have to wait. Instead I began to babble, and so robbed myself of my last chance of escape.

‘No, Juliette, please! Not in front of them, that’s not fair! It’s just not fair!’

She might have done it anyway, more likely not, but she couldn’t possibly back down in front of her friends. Claire looked up.

‘What are you going to do to her?’

Juliette didn’t even hesitate, replying as if what she was about to do was perfectly acceptable, even normal.

‘I’m going to cane her. Touch your toes, Lucy.’

I might have hoped they’d come to my rescue, or at least had the decency to leave the room, but they weren’t Juliette’s friends for nothing. Claire laughed for the thought of what was to be done to me, but Emily was worse.

‘Go on then, do her hard!’

Juliette pushed me into the centre of the room and closed the door behind her, not even bothering to put the latch on.

‘I said, touch your toes, Lucy. Come on, feet apart and over you go.’

I hesitated, full of misery for my own weakness but badly in need of the beating Juliette was about to give me. The window was right in front of me and I could see out across the quad, where two of my friends were talking together while the warden stalked across the grass, his black gown flapping around his ankles. The scene was so calm, so normal that it seemed insane that I was about to bend over to have my knickers pulled down and a cane used on my naked bottom. Still I went over, burning with shame as I put my fingertips to the toes of my trainers, but quite unable to stop myself. My hair had fallen down around my head, so I could hardly see at all, save for my socks and shoes where I was stood on a patch of dark-red carpet. Juliette spoke from somewhere above and behind me.

‘You see, I told you I’d find a use for this.’

She laughed, so cruel, and I found myself twisting my head around to look out from under the curtain of blonde strands that obscured my face, to find her holding a long, crook-handled school cane. I’d never seen anything so terrifying in my life, and it looked old too, making me wonder how many other unfortunate girls had been forced to adopt the same humiliating position while it was used across their bottoms. Whatever the answer, I was next, terrified of the thing but unable to move, even with the two girls watching, delighted by my fate and not even bothering to hide their reaction. When Emily spoke her voice was rich with excitement.

‘Strip her, Juliette. Make her go bare.’

Juliette was as cool as ever as she answered.

‘Naturally I’m going to make her go bare. You don’t think I’d leave her any modesty, do you? Her skirt’s coming up and her knickers are coming down, aren’t they, Lucy? If you have any on today, that is. Now open wide.’

I shook my head in a denial as pathetic as it was pointless, and I’d barely taken in her final instruction, only to have the long, hard bar of the cane pressed to my lips as she spoke again.

‘Hold it in your mouth, stupid.’

I obeyed, taking the cane between my teeth. She stood up once more, to take hold of the hem of my skirt, her voice now full of laughter as she lifted it to show off the seat of my panties.

‘Here we go, up comes the skirt. Oh, she has got knickers on, that makes a change, rather pretty ones too, don’t you think, girls? Oh, but look at this, she’s all wet! What a disgrace you are, Lucinda Salisbury!’

Claire and Emily were giggling as they moved to inspect the gusset of my knickers, which I’d known was embarrassingly moist, and why, but I couldn’t help but try and defend myself, pulling the cane from my mouth to speak.

‘I was running!’

Juliette laughed.

‘A likely story! You’re wet, aren’t you, you slut, not sweaty, wet, wet, wet with juice? You’re wet because you get off on having your bottom smacked, don’t you?’

I shook my head, and with that I’d begun to cry, overcome with emotion for what was being done to me and for my helpless reaction. Juliette gave a short, curt laugh, pure contempt.

‘What a big baby, and her knickers aren’t even down yet! Come on then, let’s have you bare … and down come the knickers!’

She’d done it as she spoke, taking hold of my knickers and peeling them down off my bottom, not just around my thighs to leave me bare for the cane, but all the way to my knees so that they remained stretched taut between my open legs. I knew my sex was visible from behind, just as the gusset of my knickers had been and, worse still, I could feel the cool air between my cheeks where the sweaty little dimple of my anus showed. Claire gave an excited giggle, Emily a low purr.

‘Go on, Juliette, beat her.’

Juliette didn’t answer, but she’d begun to touch, her hands pressing to the flesh of my bottom, then exploring my cheeks and between as the others watched. There was no restraint, her fingers digging deep to spread me open and loitering on the mouth of my anus before moving lower, to penetrate me. She’d already had my virginity and her fingers went in easily, adding to my choking shame as my secret was revealed to the two watching girls, with my soaking hole held open for their inspection. By then the tears were streaming down my face, but Juliette knew me too well to stop, continuing her exploration of my bottom and sex, then finishing by hauling my top up over my breasts to strip me of every last vestige of dignity. Only then did she bend down to take the cane from between my teeth.

I braced myself, expecting the agony of the first stroke at any instant. Just to take a spanking from her was all I could bear, and I was sure the cane would hurt a thousand times more. As she laid the awful thing across the flesh of my bottom I began to tread up and down on my feet in an agony of apprehension, and to babble.

‘Not too hard, please, Juliette. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do anything … anything you like, but not too hard, just not too hard!’

She lifted the cane and I screamed as I heard it swish down, only for Claire and Emily to dissolve in laughter as Juliette deliberately missed her target. I tried to say something but couldn’t, my breath now ragged and my body shaking and wet with sweat as she brought the cane up a second time. Down it came with that awful swishing sound, only to miss once again and leave me stamping my feet and bawling my eyes out in fear and consternation. Again she lifted the horrible thing, and this time when it came down it hit the target, a hard stroke delivered full across the crest of my bottom to make me scream once more, then leap to my feet, clutching at my cheeks and jumping up and down like some mad kangaroo to the tune of all three girls laughing.

Finally I managed to present myself once again, my head hung low, my breath coming in gasps, my knickers now around one ankle, but my bottom pushed out for the second stroke of Juliette’s cane. I didn’t know if I could take all six, but I was going to try, and when she was done with me I was going to get down on my knees, with my bare red bottom showing behind, and lick her to ecstasy in front of both her friends. Again the cane settled across my bottom as Juliette spoke.

‘That’s one, Lucy, and now … no, on second thoughts get up and go and stand in the corner with your bum on show. I’ll give you the remaining five next week.’

Chapter One

Five years had passed since my relationship with Juliette Fisher, but what we’d done together had left an indelible mark. For all my success at university and in the jobs market I’d never been able to get over my love for shameful erotic situations, and the slightest mention of spanking still made my tummy flutter, while the thought of the cane terrified me. As PA to the boss of an old, established and traditional company I’d had to keep my feelings to myself, aside from a few glorious moments of self-indulgence with boyfriends and with my colleague, Stacey Atkinson.

Stacey was a carefully guarded secret because for all that the company paid lip service to tolerance and equality we both knew full well that a lesbian affair would hurt our careers, while even a hint of anything kinky was likely to bring them to an abrupt halt. We both knew the risks, but I needed my fix of punishment and humiliation just as she needed hers for sex with another woman, which made us an ideal match. Otherwise I’d kept a strict rule of never accepting a proposition from anybody within the company or associated with the company. It was a shame, because I’d had several tempting offers, but I knew what would happen if I accepted. If the night was a success I’d let myself go, demanding the satisfaction of my deeper needs, including having my bottom smacked. Boys will be boys, and they do like to boast, so it was sure to be all over the office within a few days, with disastrous consequences.

When I was put up for a management training course in the West Country I was delighted to find that Stacey would be there too, but I was less happy to discover that three of our male colleagues were also going. There was Alastair Renton, a busy young man who looked as if he ought to have been a Spitfire pilot and was plainly fast-tracked for the top; Daniel Chambers, pushier still and even better looking, with a bad reputation to match, but just not as good, and Paul Yates, a great bear of a man said to be brilliant on computers but with a reputation as the office clown. The course was all about leadership and involved a lot of running around in the countryside, while every second word in the brochure we’d been given seemed to be ‘team’, but I still hoped to find the occasional private moment with Stacey during what looked like being a highly physical and challenging couple of weeks.

The great thing about having a clandestine relationship with another woman is that you can get away with far more than an ordinary couple could, or even two men. When Stacey and I said we’d forego our places in the minibus and take the train down the day before my boss made a comment about sticking with the team, but that was all. Nor did the staff at The Plough, a remote country pub where we’d chosen to stay the night, show any surprise when we booked a double room. We were in a tiny village more than five miles from Camp Aspiration, where the course was happening, and as we unloaded our bags I was looking forward to a delightfully naughty afternoon.

Our room was tucked in under the eaves at the top of the building, with a single, small window looking out over the beer garden and across the woods and fields of the Exe Valley, with the loom of Dartmoor beyond. Just to breathe the air was a pleasure, after being stuck in London all winter, while I couldn’t help but feel carefree, even irresponsible. We hadn’t quite had the nerve to ask for a double bed, but both the ones we’d been given were big enough for two, at least while we were up to no good. I bounced down on the one nearest the window and lay back, my arms and legs spread out in a star.

‘This should be a lot of fun, being with you anyway. I expect the course will be pretty silly.’

Stacey turned from where she’d been investigating the bathroom.

‘Why silly?’

‘Oh, you know, all this team business and outdoor stuff, when management’s really all about who you know and how you look and that sort of thing. Do you think Mr Scott would have chosen me as his PA if I’d been short and dumpy with a thick Birmingham accent?’

‘No, probably not, but going on the course will look good on our CVs.’

‘Oh, I know that, but I don’t expect it to be of any real practical value. It’s just boys’ games, really, you know, an excuse to show off a bit of machismo.’

‘You are going to try, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, of course, if only to show Daniel and Alastair up, but don’t expect me to volunteer for anything that involves getting unnecessarily wet or muddy. The boys can do it while we look on in admiration, staying nice and clean and dry.’

She laughed.

‘You know your trouble, Lucy. You’ve had it too easy. I bet you were daddy’s little princess, weren’t you?’

‘I was at public school, most of the time, and it wasn’t easy at all.’

‘Oh, you poor baby! Weren’t the servants sufficiently respectful? Was the caviar not of the best quality?’

It was my turn to laugh, remembering what it had really been like, but her mocking tone had got to me and I couldn’t resist answering her back.

‘We didn’t get caviar, but the servants were mostly girls like you, only they knew their place.’

I knew what was going to happen and was already snatching for a pillow as she scrambled across the other bed to get at me. My blow caught her full across the side of her face and from that moment I was in serious trouble. She called me a bitch as she pulled back to grab one of the pillows from the other bed, which left her in a crawling position for one perfect moment, with the seat of her tight blue jeans a perfect target. I brought my pillow home with every ounce of my strength, full across her bottom, a small victory but a very satisfying one. It was also my last.

She was on me in an instant, twisting around to bring her pillow down on my head, and once again before she stood up, towering above me as she rained down blows. I tried to defend myself, smacking my pillow at her legs and hips, but she was bigger and stronger. She also wanted to win, while my will to resist was fading with every smack of her pillow on my body. I soon rolled back, my efforts to hit her ever more pathetic as she laid in, hard and accurate, until I lost my pillow and curled up, my hands covering my face, my bottom on offer as a target. She took full advantage of my surrender, pummelling me with the pillow as I begged for mercy, although that was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t get it either, smack after smack applied to my back and legs and arms, but with ever more attention to my bottom, until at last she threw her pillow aside, twisted one of my arms into the small of my back and began to use her hand instead, talking to me as she gave hard, purposeful slaps to the seat of my jeans.

‘Girls like me, were they, Lucy? Girls who knew their place? I bet they did, and I bet they knew yours too, miss high-and-mighty, hoity-toity public school girl, swanning around like the stuck-up little bitch you are. Giving out orders and having them run around after you all day, was it? Yeah, sure, that’s really you. More like over their knees with your panties pulled down and your bottom bare for a good spanking, which is exactly what you’re about to get!’

‘No! Please, Stacey, not that. Don’t spank me, please!’

She just laughed at me, enjoying my discomfort as I began to squirm in her grip but knowing full well that the only way to really punish me would be to stop. That wasn’t going to happen, because whatever my reaction, she was going to thoroughly enjoy taking her feelings out on my bottom. Her sense of social inferiority was very real, which meant it was going to hurt, and that she’d do her best to humiliate me as well. Sure enough, the spanking stopped and her hand burrowed in to tug at the button of my jeans as she spoke once more.

‘Right, you little snob, let’s have these trousers down and see how superior you look with your knickers on show. Get your legs down, now!’

A hard slap to my thighs and I’d done as I was told, uncurling to let her get at my jeans, which had quickly been pulled down around my thighs to leave the pretty pink silk panties I’d chosen that morning on display. She gave a tut of mock disapproval and treated herself to a quick feel of my bottom before she went on.

‘Oh very fancy! Quite the little princess, aren’t you? I bet you even wear a matching bra, don’t you?’

‘So do you!’

She ignored my comment as she pulled up my blouse to inspect my bra, gave another scornful little tut when she discovered it was in the same style as my panties, then abruptly tugged it up to spill out my breasts. I couldn’t help but protest.

‘Not my tits, Stacey! Why do I need my tits bare to be spanked?’

‘Maybe I want to spank your tits?’

My response was a squeal as she suited action to word, slapping her open palm across the side of one bare breast and then the other. It stung far worse than across my bottom and I couldn’t help but defend myself, only to have my wrists caught and my arms pinned under her legs as she climbed up onto the bed. With me squirming helpless in her grip she began to slap my breasts again, her face full of excitement and cruelty as she watched my flesh jiggle to the smacks.

‘Ow! Stacey, that hurts!’

‘It’s supposed to hurt, you silly bitch, and it’s much more satisfying than smacking your fat little arse. You enjoy that too much.’

‘Don’t be a bitch, please, Stacey? Ow! Ow!’

She just laughed and gave another hard slap across both my boobs, which had now begun to pink up, while my nipples looked as if they were about to pop. I closed my eyes, trying to resign myself to my punishment but unable to hold back my cries or stop myself from wriggling about as she continued work on my chest, slapping my boobs up to a rosy pink colour before she finally decided to turn her attention to my bottom.

‘Right then, enough of that. Roll over.’

I obeyed, snivelling slightly and feeling very sorry for myself indeed as I turned face down on the bed. She straddled my back, seating herself so that she could keep me in place and get at my bottom. I could feel the heat of her sex through her jeans, bringing to mind what was sure to be done to me once I’d been punished, but I had to get through my spanking first. Stacey knew she had me helpless, both physically and mentally, and her voice was calm and amused as she spoke again.

‘Right then, let’s see shall we, what’s to be done with you? First, as you have such pretty panties on, I think they’d better come down, don’t you? It would be a shame to ruin them, after all. There we are, bare bottom, and don’t you look pretty?’

She’d pulled my knickers down as she spoke, inverting them around my thighs to join the tangled cloth of my jeans and leaving me bare and ready, my smarting breasts already naked and now my bottom too. My spanking began, Stacey laughing as she started to slap my cheeks, one hand on each to make my flesh bounce and my slit open to show off my anus. I buried my face in the coverlet, letting the awful shame of my position sink slowly in, a smart, professional woman stripped and spanked by her friend. It was hard to imagine a more undignified position, for all I knew that there were plenty of ways she could have made it worse for me, like stripping me nude, making me kneel so that my wet, open cunt showed to the room, or sticking something up me while I was beaten. None of it would have been any more than window dressing, just as having my jeans and knickers pulled down was, and even the pain of Stacey’s increasingly hard slaps. What really mattered was that I was taking a spanking, willingly, and the way I reacted to it, so turned on that in no time at all I’d begun to stick my bottom up for more. Stacey laughed to see the state I was in.