Denys Mills says, ‘I was thinking of going down to the Club this morning, Charlotte.’
Charlotte, his pretty 17-year-old daughter, has just brought a cup of coffee and the morning paper into his study. She says a noncommittal ‘Oh,’ and goes over to the window. The garden is looking fresh and inviting in the early morning sunshine, the big limes now partly turned to their early autumn yellow.
‘Yes. With you naturally.’ Denys looks thoughtfully at Charlotte’s rear view. Her sleek shoulder-length honey-blonde hair, a pale blue blouse, blue jeans. The thin jeans are skin-tight over the quite sumptuous cheeks of her bottom.
Charlotte turns. Her face has flushed slightly. ‘Oh Dad, no please!’ It is Saturday and she has been planning to see her boyfriend Raymond, perhaps ride out in the country on their bikes. But the Club! And being Saturday she knows what that means.
Denys smiles. ‘Yes darling. Your presence is required. Actually Gerald Rinley specifically asked if I would take you.’
Charlotte’s face registers shock and alarm as her mind focuses on Mr Rinley with his rather piercing eyes and trimmed black beard. ‘No Dad! Not that awful old Mr Rinley. Please!’
‘Yes darling. He did ask for you. And I believe you really quite like him.’
‘I don’t!’ Charlotte stamps her foot. ‘Please! I was going out today. And that Mr Rinley, well, he’s really awful! You can’t ask me…’
Denys has got to his feet. Crossing to the window he takes Charlotte by the shoulders. Then one hand slips down to cup her bottom. The bottom that Gerald Rinley is so taken with. Well it isn’t so surprising, Denys thinks, it is a lovely bottom. If Charlotte were not his own daughter she would be his first choice too.
He says mildly, ‘I’m not asking you, Charlotte, I’m telling you. You know the rules.’ His fingers pinch the flesh of one bottom-cheek. ‘And if you’re disobedient I might just feel I should take your jeans and knickers down and spank your bottom myself.’
Charlotte gives a little yelp, squirming. ‘You mean instead of Mr Rinley?’ she asks. Because being spanked by her father is really quite a turn-on.
He laughs. ‘Oh no, not instead of. As well. You know Gerald’s a founder member of the Club. So he gets a first choice and there’s no point saying you planned to do something else. That’s what discipline is all about.’
She moans. ‘I really hate him! And you only make me go so that you can get to have Anne Rinley.’
Denys gives a soft chuckle. ‘Don’t be cheeky. You need to have some discipline. And so does Anne.’ He squeezes her bottom again. ‘Half an hour. OK?’
Up in her room Charlotte makes a whimpering sound. Her lips mouth a swear word. The Club! And Mr Rinley! And it is such a lovely day for going out with Raymond on their bikes. When she is in the mood riding her bike can be a real turn-on. The intimate contact of her pussy with the leather saddle as her thighs pump up and down. Swoony. It can really get her hotted up. And then lying on the grass with Raymond in one of their secret little places. Refusing at first but then allowing Raymond to take her knickers off… But instead of that it is going to be Mr Rinley. The Club and then going home with Mr Rinley. The afternoon and evening at his house. While of course Anne Rinley comes round here with her father.
Charlotte whispers again. Biting her lip she goes to lock her bedroom door. She isn’t supposed to lock it but sometimes she does. Like now, when she is feeling hot and desperate. She yanks down the zip of her jeans and pulls them off. And then her brief knickers. She is going to have to change anyway, Mr Rinley will want her in a skirt, not jeans. Also no bra. But for the moment there is something else. She rolls onto the bed. On her back. Her hand right away between her legs. Her pussy is wet, her clitoris hot and throbbing. She rubs it, gasping. Thinking as she does of Raymond, and of Mr Rinley. Those things Mr Rinley will undoubtedly want to do. Does she really hate it — or is it just a bit of a turn-on? Charlotte groans and tells herself she really does hate Mr Rinley.
Oh Christ! She is already close to coming! The last time he made her strip and get in the bath. Before doing the other things. She gives a shuddery moan. She is coming!
Mr Rinley can make her come too of course. Even though she tells herself she hates it.
The Club operates from the local golf club. A kind of inner sanctum which ordinary members of the golf club are unaware of. The Club’s members all have teenage daughters of course. That is the object of the exercise. Daughters at that age when discipline is highly desirable, but as we all know discipline in the normal course of events in this day and age is largely unknown. It would be unknown here too in this leafy suburban middle-class community too were it not for the Club.
The Club has been in existence for two years now, ever since a couple of local fathers hit on the excellent idea of swapping. It was such a simple but marvellous idea. Well a father may have inhibitions about properly disciplining his own daughter but he will experience no such problems with the daughter of a neighbour. Especially if she is an attractive young person. And aren’t neighbours’ daughters almost always attractive?
So yes, it is at the golf club where matters are progressed. And exchanges are made. And therefore it is to the golf club that Denys Mills and his daughter Charlotte shortly set out on this pleasant autumn Saturday morning. Plus also Gerald Rinley with his daughter Anne, and a couple of other daughters and fathers too. Club rules are that members must turn up with their daughters on Saturdays at least twice a month, unless they are away on a summer holiday or have some other valid reason. At the golf club they then adjourn to a certain room at the rear of the premises. A room of limited access naturally. It is along a corridor behind the main club room. Non-Club members, if they are aware of its existence at all, simply assume it is an old junk room. But there are easy chairs, a few tables, also drinks in a cupboard. It is in fact a comfortable little haunt.
The general procedure is for members and their daughters to spend a little time in the Club room. Even if a prior arrangement has been made between two members and they are planning to take each other’s daughters back home, as have Denys Mills and Gerald Rinley today. Yes all girls must be presented in the Club room before whatever members have turned up. They must circulate politely and docilely, on their best behaviour, chatting, or fetching drinks for instance if requested. After ten minutes or so of this a girl can be taken off. Off to a member’s home, or alternatively to one or other of the two small rooms which lead off the Club room. These are basically lumber rooms where old gear is stored but in each space has been cleared away and there is a chair and a table. They have space therefore for the administration of a little discipline. Space in other words to take a girl over one’s lap or bend her over the table, and take her knickers down.
Both Charlotte and Anne Rinley have in the past been inside these small rooms with various of the Club’s members. But that is not their fate today. Today as we know, their fathers have made the prior arrangement to swap and take each other’s daughter home.
There is some friendly banter amongst members once this is known. Well, Charlotte and Anne are by general consent the two most desirable daughters in the Club. Other members would also have liked to take one or other of them home, or failing that have a little session with one of them in one of the anterooms. Simon Harley, a relatively new member, suggests to Denys that maybe they could arrange something for the next weekend. Simon has a rather nice daughter called Emma and has not had either Charlotte or Anne yet. Denys says yes maybe. He does like the look of Emma. He says he will phone in the week to confirm. But for the moment he is only really thinking about Anne Rinley. It is true what Charlotte said earlier, he does fancy her. As Gerald Rinley really fancies Charlotte.
Charlotte in Mr Rinley’s plum red Rover. Her heart thumping. Is she scared? She knows where Mr Rinley is taking her. He has an old cottage out in the country where he likes to go at the weekend. While Mrs Rinley no doubt remains at their house in the town, as she did the last time Mr Rinley took Charlotte to the cottage. So it will be just herself and Mr Rinley. Naturally she remembers what he did last time. That is why her heart is thumping.
Gerald Rinley puts his hand on Charlotte’s thigh. ‘My favourite girl,’ he says. He squeezes the bare thigh below Charlotte’s short skirt. ‘But she does need to be disciplined, doesn’t she?’
It is not far now. They are driving along the lane leading to the cottage. ‘Not that bloody tawse,’ Charlotte says. ‘I hate it!’
Gerald laughs. ‘I imagine we’ll have to have it. It’s good for a girl. First of all though I’m going to have you in the bath. Like last time. Wasn’t that nice?’
Charlotte squeals, ‘No it bloody wasn’t!’
Mr Rinley’s little laugh again. ‘Don’t swear, dear. That could mean several extra whacks with the tawse. Yes, you’re lovely in the bath. Such a lovely body.’
Mr Rinley wasn’t joking. He is going to have her in the bath right away. They are in the cottage’s small sitting room with the sun streaming in through the little window. Charlotte pleads: Can’t they sit outside in the sun for a while? But Mr Rinley shakes his head. No, he wants to get straightaway into his pleasures. His disciplining of Charlotte. And so she has to do as he wants. Take her clothes off. Everything except her vest and knickers. She can keep these on for the moment. Gerald likes to extend his pleasures, savour them. Charlotte reluctantly complies. Her blouse and short skirt, her shoes and ankle socks. As per Mr Rinley’s wishes she has no bra on. She is wearing a gold chain round her throat and in just that and her white sleeveless vest and knickers she is certainly a sight to be savoured. Gerald moves in close. His hand reaching round to fondle the taut flesh of her knickered bottom. Oh yes.
‘Come on then,’ he says. He gives her bottom a brisk slap.
Charlotte knows where she has to go. Through to the bathroom. Mr Rinley follows closely. His hand at her bottom…
‘Oh Christ!’ she exclaims. Because there it is right in front of her. The bathroom contains a loo as well as a bath and there hanging from the old-fashioned cistern above the loo is that bloody tawse. Mr Rinley’s two-tongued heavy leather strap. Charlotte has sharp memories of it cutting murderously across her bare nates.
‘No, please!’ she whispers stumbling back to the door. Gerald Rinley takes hold of her, his hands on various choice parts.
‘Don’t be silly. Come on. Take your knickers off now.’
‘Please, no…’ she repeats. Her eyes meet Mr Rinley’s. She doesn’t want that bloody tawse but she is also feeling excited. Aroused. She guesses Mr Rinley is too. He probably has an erection. She gives a slightly hysterical laugh, and her hand comes out, to the front of his trousers. Yes. Her fingers briefly grasp his heavily erect organ before he pushes her hand away.
‘Come on, Charlotte. No messing. Get the knickers off.’
Whimpering, she complies. Gerald Rinley watches, arms folded, as the brief little knickers come down. Charlotte steps out of them, then stands straight. Her hand tries to pull the front of her short vest down to cover her blonde-haired pussy.
‘Aren’t you sweet! Now the vest. Let’s have a proper look at you.’
Charlotte rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t want that strap. Look, can’t we, you know… I mean, something else…’
What does she mean? Charlotte doesn’t really know, She is feeling a bit light-headed. She thinks briefly of Raymond. They could be out in the woods. Probably lying down, Raymond a bit desperate. She would be teasing him. Playing with his big stiff thing. Teasing. But instead she is here with Mr Rinley in just her vest and the threat of that tawse. And Mr Rinley has a big stiff thing too. Bigger than Raymond’s…
‘Come on. Get it off,’ Mr Rinley tells her firmly.
Whimpering again, Charlotte does it. Pulling the thin vest up over her head, she is conscious of what she is showing. Conscious of Mr Rinley’s eager eyes. The vest off, she stands holding it against her now nude tits and pussy.
‘Now get up on the seat,’ he tells her. ‘Take it down.’
‘Oh Christ!’ Charlotte yelps. She is still clutching her vest and doesn’t want to let it go. To climb on the lavatory seat she is going to have to turn, thus presenting her bare bottom rather than her tits and pussy to Mr Rinley’s eager gaze. He is probably hoping to get a choice between-the-legs view of her cunt from the rear. To try to prevent that Charlotte turns and quickly switches the vest from her front to her bottom.
Gerald Rinley gives a sardonic laugh.
‘You’re just hateful,’ Charlotte grits as she precariously mounts the seat. She unhooks the tawse. Mr Rinley tells her to turn and face him. And give him her vest.
So now she has no protection from his gawping eyes. He tells her to stand erect. With the tawse held lengthways down her front.
‘Good. Stand still, and don’t move. Or I’ll whack you with it until your bum’s red hot and you won’t want to sit down for a week.’
Charlotte bites her lip.
He’s not allowed to really whack her like that, it’s against the Club Rules. She doesn’t say anything though. Silence is probably the best policy.
Mr Rinley doesn’t say anything either. He goes to sit on the side of the bath. Then he grins.
‘Actually I’m going to spank you first. I just wanted you to have the exercise of climbing up there. You can put the strap back and come down.’
Charlotte wants to swear but manages to contain it. She climbs down, quite nude now of course. Actually Mr Rinley is going to see everything anyway so there wasn’t much point worrying about it. He tells her to reach the talcum powder which is on the shelf. Then he gets up and moves over to sit on the loo. He pulls Charlotte down across his thighs…
‘OK young lady?’
Charlotte mumbles something. Actually a spanking isn’t that bad. Not compared to the tawse at least. And for the moment it is just going to be a spanking, Maybe she won’t get the tawse? She wriggles her bottom. At the same time she feels a hard bulge under her tummy. Mr Rinley’s stiff thing. She wriggles some more. Writhing herself against it. And then his hand cracks down…
SPLATT!!… SPLATT!!… SPLATT!!… SPLATT!!…
He has whacked her bum for several minutes and quite hard too. Charlotte is still over Gerald’s lap, her bottom a bright rosy red. She groans. ‘Christ! You really hurt me.’ She moans some more, as if she is in great pain. Her bottom certainly is stinging. Red hot!
Gerald laughs and reaches for the talcum container. He sprinkles some on Charlotte’s squirming bum, then spreads it around. In the process fondling her bottom. Charlotte makes a whimpering sound. Gerald’s fingers slide between her legs.
‘Are we finished now?’ she asks. The words come out trembly, which is not surprising with what his hand is doing. She groans as the fingers manipulate her.
‘Oh no. Not finished. You’ve got to have a bath. And then, who knows? I do think you need a good strapping.’
A bit later Gerald runs the bath. When it is half full he tells Charlotte to get in. Then he makes her get on her hands and knees in the soapy water. She moans but complies. She turns to look up at Mr Rinley. Her wet bottom which is still red from the spanking is on display. And not only that. She knows in this position she is showing her cunt. She groans again. She is pretty hot from what Mr Rinley has been doing. His knowing fingers. He has got her all hotted up.
Gerald grins, and reaches for the tawse. Charlotte gives a shuddery cry of alarm…
He flicks the tawse lightly across her wet bottom. Charlotte yelps again. He tells her to stand up. Stand up in the bath with her hands on her head. He puts the tawse down and now picks up the bar of soap. He tells her to part her legs a little…
‘No…ooo…’ she whispers. Her eyes fixed on his hand and the bar of soap.
‘Do you want the tawse?’ he asks.
Legs trembling, Charlotte breathes, ‘No…oooo…’
She parts her thighs. His hand comes in between her legs. She gives a whimpery, hysterical giggle as the slippery bar of soap slides in between the lips of her cunt.
Charlotte is returned home at eight o’clock that evening. It is the time Denys and Gerald have agreed, and so Anne Rinley is ready to be taken back by her father. The two girls exchange little smiles in the Mills’ hallway. Anne has rather a flushed face and Charlotte wonders what exactly she has had to endure. She knows her father has a strap like Mr Rinley’s. Is Anne’s bum hot from his strap? Or what?
Anne naturally is entertaining similar thoughts regarding Charlotte. They will no doubt have a rather wary meeting on Monday, each trying to find out what she can without too direct questioning. Well it’s a natural curiosity isn’t it? Girls are not supposed to compare notes but of course they do, to a certain extent at least.
When Anne and Mr Rinley have gone Charlotte and her father go into the sitting room. Charlotte’s mother, Jane, is out for the evening which Charlotte thinks is nice, it is just her and her father.
When he has sat down in his favourite armchair she asks, ‘Well did you have a good time, Dad? I hope Anne’s got a really sore bottom. I hope you really whacked her.’
Denys tells her not to be cheeky. But Charlotte is feeling cheeky. Or something. The day with Mr Rinley has left its mark. Mr Rinley does awful things but they are also arousing. She asks if she can pour her father a glass of wine. He says yes. At the cupboard she says in a hurt voice, ‘Mr Rinley really hit me. He really hurt me.’ She turns with the glass. ‘It’s still sore. So I haven’t got my knickers on.’
She brings the glass and puts it on the little table next to his chair, then adds, ‘It wasn’t only whacking of course. There was the rest.’ She lowers herself onto her father’s lap. ‘Would you like to know?’
Denys says, ‘Oh, I don’t know. We’re not supposed to compare notes. Against Club rules, you know that. Unless you’ve got a proper complaint.’
Has Charlotte got a proper complaint? She wriggles on her father’s lap. She is feeling sexy. Tomorrow she’ll see Raymond. But that’s tomorrow.
Her father says, ‘Don’t wriggle like that.’
‘What?’ she asks innocently. It’s just like being on Mr Rinley’s lap, isn’t it? Yes she can feel that bulge. It’s getting bigger. She wriggles some more…