‘Harriet would do well for you if you need a housekeeper. Remember Harriet?’ Jane’s stepmother, Fran, asked. Turning her car into a side street, Fran brought it to a half outside a saddler’s shop.
‘Who? Oh yes, Harriet,’ Jane responded more vaguely than she actually felt. ‘But she’s rather sort of… well… strict. No, I don’t mean strict, I mean…’
‘You do mean strict actually,’ Fran interrupted her with a laugh. ‘A housekeeper has to be or her employers start getting in her way. Strictness is always something you’ve secretly liked, anyway. We both know that, don’t we?’ her stepmother asked gently.
‘Dunno — I s’pose,’ Jane mumbled. It was true, yet she hated it being spoken about directly. It was better if someone were strict with her but didn’t talk about it too much beforehand. At twenty-three now, she could remember her stepmother coming into their lives six years before, sleek and sophisticated as she had seemed to herself, to her sister, Terri, and to Mark, her brother. None of them had ever had the cane before that. By the age of eighteen, Jane was already being made to touch her toes, blushing furiously with her panties looped down around her trim ankles.
Her canings had always been light and yet they had stung awfully — the searing cane whistling with artless cunning across her exposed cheeks — and Terri’s, and Mark’s. ‘You two for the cane tonight,’ Fran would say and Jane would blush, pulling unconsciously at the hem of her skirt and furtively running her tongue over her lips. Then Harriet had arrived and become their housekeeper. When Fran went away for a week, Harriet had kept them ‘in trim’ in the same way, brooking no refusals. It would be different now, though, Jane told herself. She was older now and she was married.
‘I’ll get her to come round and see you,’ Fran was saying now. Getting out of the car she beckoned to Jane who didn’t really want to go in the saddler’s but followed her nevertheless.
The man inside seemed to know her stepmother well enough. He even had some things ready for her which he drew out from under the counter. Bemused, Jane found herself gazing down at four-inch-wide leather cuffs with steel fasteners. ‘You didn’t forget the other things?’ Fran asked the man. Grinning, he shook his head and laid a parcel beside the cuffs. ‘I wrapped them up after you looked at them last — they’re all there,’ he said. His eyes ran over Jane’s trim figure in a way that made her flush. Quickly writing out a cheque, Fran thanked him and gathered up the things.
Outside, getting into the car, she threw the purchases on the back seat. Taking her seat and turning her head inquisitively, Jane saw peeping from one end of the parcel a plaited black leather handle that looked wickedly like… well… like a man’s thing. It was shaped just like one. Furious to feel Fran’s amused eyes on her, she looked out again through the windscreen as her stepmother murmured, ‘It’s a new teasewhip, darling, and a few other things.’
Jane opened her mouth and closed it. The night had come once when there had been a teasewhip for her. She wasn’t sure whether Fran knew about that. Shamed, excited and embarrassed all at once, she had screeched out her protests while bent over the strong arm of Harriet who had watched the black thongs coursing across her offered cheeks. Harriet had waited until she was in her nightie — that was the unfair part of it — and had grabbed and held Jane with her knees bent into the side of her bed, the flimsy nylon of her nightie rucked right up until the milky orbs of her breasts showed.
‘Let me go-oh-oh!’ she had sobbed, but Harriet’s left leg had been planted firmly on the bed and Jane, held down over her thigh, could do nothing but squirm her hips as the hissing tips of the thin rubber thongs stung their taunting bites into her cleft moon. ‘Whooo-hooo-hooo!’ she had sobbed while Harriet had been ‘tidying-up’ her wreathed and wrinkled nightie until Jane had been hazily aware that all of her tits were showing, bobbing and swinging. Endeavouring to wriggle backwards, Jane had only felt herself held tighter.
‘It’s all right — I’ve got her,’ she had heard Harriet husk, ‘a bit harder now — just a bit. She’s warming up to it.’
‘I’m not, I’m not!’ had come Jane’s appealing sobs. ‘You st…st…stop it… Ow!’ Her cries, however, had not been of pain. She was being stung, burnished, the in-flicking tips causing her to lift her flushed bottom to the next stroke and the next as it weaved its biting spell all over her glowing orb. It was a glow that raged to a fire and licked everywhere within her. The thongs flared in this way and that, now from the left, now from the right, now under, making her bottom rotate wickedly and her tits jiggle faster.
‘Nooo-hooo-hoooo!’ she had whimpered. Her nightie was beneath her armpits then, her thorn-like nipples brushing across the stocking top of Harriet who with such unexpected suddenness withdrew the leg over which Jane was bent and let her fall forward.
Ever after that Jane could still feel the upper half of her body falling, falling, while yet her hips were seized in a grip of steel, her bottom held up. ‘No-woh-woh!’ she had screeched for in that same moment Harriet had moved to the wall-switch and the light had gone out. Warm as a torch, something bulbous then had nubbed against the moist, peach-like lips of her quim, coming up beneath her so quickly that she had not time to escape it before it sank up within the warm sponginess of her slit. Scrabbling wildly at the bedcover, Jane had tried still to urge forward, but its invasion was relentless, urging up, up, up until the heat-raging moon of her bottom was balled tightly into a muscular belly. ‘Haaaar!’ had come her wild, shuddering cry, the sleek cheeks of her bum squirming madly while the fiercely-pulsing shaft had drawn half out of her silken, oily nest and then plunged in again.
Manoeuvred gradually on all fours on to the bed, Jane had succumbed then. In and out of her the big erect penis had moved until her sobs changed to whimpers. In the dark he had shafted her slowly, feeling the sweet tingling of her quim and the evermore ardent rolling of her bottom-cheeks into him. Palming the polished tits which hung beneath his hands he had begun to rod her more slowly, bringing on her little salty spurts of pleasure that made Jane bite her knuckles with such a wicked, secret delight as she had never experienced before. With every thrust of his cock her bottom-cheeks tightened both against the sensation and the deep tingling she could still feel there.
‘M…m…mustn’t!’ she had moaned even though he was no longer holding her tightly. Sleeking one hand down beneath her tummy he had fingered her rosy clitty, bringing a rushing of breath from her and making her hips churn obediently to the powerful surging of his prick.
‘You’re coming, Jane, you’re coming, aren’t you?’ he had husked, fanning the springy curls of her quim apart. ‘Ye-eh-esss!’ she had moaned, ‘oh d…d…d…do it in me… Aaaaah!’
A hot bottom and gushing sperm — how often had she known that, Jane thought dizzily, but it couldn’t happen again, not ever. Her husband, Geoff, never thought of spanking her even. Sometimes she even wanted him to but was too shy to ask. She just had to have someone be firm with her — make her do it.
‘You’re wondering who it’s for — the teasewhip, I mean,’ Fran said suddenly, breaking into Jane’s thoughts as they came clear of the High Street and turned off.
‘No — no, I wasn’t,’ Jane replied innocently.
‘Liar,’ Fran laughed cheerfully. ‘We have little parties occasionally now. You must come to one. But no, on second thoughts I don’t think you’d like them. Everything’s voluntary, you see,’ she added craftily, making Jane blush. ‘Oh, really?’ Jane said pertly and fell silent again. She hated the way her stepmother seemed such a bloody know-all.
‘I’ll get Harriet to call you — or call round,’ Fran said when she dropped her off.
‘If you want, but I don’t really need anyone — it was just an idea,’ Jane replied. The house they had bought was really too large for just Geoff and herself, and housework bored her. Not that Harriet was a housekeeper proper — more of a sort of companion who at forty — as she now must be — could be either chummy or maternal according to her moods.
Fran was a wicked devil buying that new teasewhip and those cuffs, Jane thought, but as the day wore on she let it slip from her mind.
At seven that evening when the doorbell rang she thought it must be her husband, having perhaps forgotten his key. Opening the door she found Harriet standing there. ‘Thought I’d look in on you,’ Harriet said with a smile, looking as little like a housekeeper as possible in a trim black costume.
‘Oh! come in,’ Jane said, ‘I didn’t think she’d call you so soon.’
‘Well, it’s been a long time, anyway,’ Harriet replied cheerfully. It was a phrase she repeated when they sat in the lounge over sherries. ‘You’re being looked after, Jane?’ she asked.
‘Looked after? Well, of course. Geoff has a good job and…’
Harriet interrupted her smoothly, saying, ‘No, I didn’t mean that. Come here, dear.’
Jane’s thighs trembled. It was a phrase she had heard too often before, and said in just that slightly steely tone. ‘Wh…what?’ she asked with a little quaver in her voice and was annoyed to find herself obeying and getting up so that she found herself in a silly, self-conscious schoolgirl posture in front of a still-seated Harriet. ‘You w…wanted another sherry?’ Jane asked foolishly.
Harriet smiled and shook her head. ‘You were really my prize pupil, you know,’ Harriet murmured and, reaching up, took Jane’s hand and held it warmly.
Jane blushed and said ‘Oh!’
Harriet’s grip on her hand was drawing her closer. ‘You didn’t hate me for it, Jane, did you?’ she asked softly, then added quickly, ‘But you don’t like being asked things, do you? I forgot.’
Jane’s lips seemed to be glued together. ‘Harriet, look…’ she began weakly. Her feet shifted, making hesitantly to draw back, but it was precisely in that moment with one high heeled shoe slightly lifted that Harriet caught her off balance and with a shriek Jane found herself descending over her thighs.
‘Harriet! No!’ she yelled. Her slender waist ringed by Harriet’s arm, she flailed one arm back wildly, feeling her short skirt flipped up and strong fingers ripping at her panties. ‘No-woh-woh, Harriet — do-oh-on’t! Yeee-aaaah!’ Knickers down to the backs of her nylon-clad knees, Jane received her first bottom-smack for six years. Splat! came Harriet’s palm down on to her juicy half-moons. ‘Nooo-nooo-nooo!’ Jane sobbed. Oh god, that was a stinger. She could feel the burning impress of Harriet’s splayed fingers right into her mounding bum and with her one free arm gripped — the other being squashed into Harriet — the next and the next came down unhindered, Smack! Smack! ‘Oh-ho-ho! Don’t! Oh don’t!’ she screeched.
‘You little devil, this is how you used to be, and just as wriggly,’ Harriet chided her.
With both their skirts rucked up, Jane could feel their smooth thighs and suspenders rubbing together. ‘Haaaar!’ she sobbed as another Smack! and another and another brought throbbing, stinging heat into her bottom. ‘No, Harriet, stop it, stop it, please don’t! Hoooo! Oh, it stings! Oh, my poor bottom!’
‘Your poor bottom, indeed!’ Smack! Smack! Smack! ‘I got you really into it once, Jane, and I’m going to again. You’ve been missing this — I know you have.’ Smack! Smack! Smack!
‘No-woh-woh-woh, I haven’t, I haven’t!’ Jane blubbered. Her bottom was brazier-hot now, the cheeks veritably glowing. Rubbing her tummy frantically over Harriet’s bared thighs she could feel the old sweet-sickly sensations swimming back into her.
Harriet knew well enough, too, how Jane was reacting despite her shrieks. Jane’s bottom, coming so hot to her palm now, reared and wriggled once more and then she slumped and lay still, leaving Harriet with her hand poised in mid-air and descending slowly upon the burning half-moons, there to sidle down over the throbbing hillocks and beneath to a furry slit already moist and pulsing. ‘Dooo-oooh-oooh!’ Jane whimpered. Her tummy was melting. She was sprinkling her love juices haplessly over Harriet’s slyly-encouraging fingers. Her legs quivered and relaxed, and then she was still…
As brightly as Jane’s bottom burned, so did her face when at long last she wriggled off and sank back into the sofa with her eyes closed, lips parted. As softly as the brushing of a butterfly’s wings, Harriet’s mouth touched her own. ‘Mummy knows best, doesn’t she?’ she whispered in the way she had once used to. A half-sob, half giggle escaped Jane whose head slipped sideways on to Harriet’s shoulder, her hips squirming, knickers at half-mast still.
‘So, my little love, you have missed it, haven’t you? I thought as much,’ Harriet murmured, stroking her hair fondly, ‘but I did bring something for you — look.’ Getting up while Jane hazily drew her panties up, wincing slightly, Harriet opened her shopping bag and brought out to Jane’s amazement the very things she had seen Fran buy earlier that day. ‘In case you were difficult,’ Harriet smiled, and laughed at the look on Jane’s tear-sparkling face. ‘She told you about the parties we have now?’
Jane struggled up, her feet twisting prettily about as she strove to shake off the stinging flares that still invaded her between and all around her bottom-cheeks. ‘G…G…Geoff will be home soon,’ she stammered, ‘Oh, Harriet, put them away. I don’t want those things. What are those cuffs for?’
‘Difficult girls, darling, but you’re not exactly one, are you — not since the night I converted you, remember?’ Teasingly she let the thongs of the whip dangle and splay out down her leg.
‘Harriet, don’t,’ Jane said uneasily, bringing a laugh from her companion. ‘The next do is on Thursday at nine. You’ll come, won’t you?’ Harriet asked, stowing the black leather things away.
‘No, don’t be silly, of course I can’t,’ Jane objected, ‘Geoff doesn’t know anything about… well, he doesn’t know anything about these things. Harriet, promise you won’t say?’
Her expression was such that Harriet moved to her and kissed her lax mouth. ‘Don’t be silly, Jane, you were always like this, but I do understand it. Just let it happen, right? Fran said he’s normally home around now. Just introduce me as a friend. If you don’t, a few things might fall out of my bag in front of him and I might just give him a hint or two as to why you’re so wriggly. Now be a good girl.’
‘Be a good girl,’ Jane echoed within herself a little cynically. She’d heard that before often enough. It had always meant panties off, and Mark standing with his trousers down in a corner, his buttocks bleared and pinkened with the marks of Harriet’s cane. ‘Look, Harriet…’ Jane began weakly, but oh god, it was too late. Geoff was coming in!
‘A party? Yeah — we haven’t been to one for ages,’ her husband said when, introductions over and dinner halfway through, Harriet mentioned it despite a would-be kick under the table from Jane. She could have a headache on that night, Jane told herself wildly, but Harriet had already anticipated such ideas.
‘Don’t spoil it, darling,’ she murmured upstairs afterwards, just before leaving.
‘Harriet, you know I don’t want to,’ Jane pleaded.
‘I know what you want — didn’t I make sure you always that you got it?’ Harriet laughed, ‘Look — if I promise never to mention that again, will you come, promise?’
‘All right,’ Jane said and hung her head, apprehension and excitement tingling together in her. It wouldn’t only draw her back into her ‘old’ life — it might change Geoff’s too. At least he liked Fran, she thought — they had always got on well. The last phrase, with its hidden double meaning, made her lips tighten. Oh well, she thought — que sera, sera. There was no drawing back from it now. Good job she wasn’t the jealous type.
That thought occurred to Geoff, too, when they arrived on the Thursday. If ever females seemed to have been handpicked for a party, they certainly were here. Terri and Fran looked ultra-fetching in matching outfits of black, low-cut mini-dresses with long-stemmed high heels and black nylons that seemed to have been lightly sprayed with silver glitter which drew all male eyes to their curvy legs. It was a mini-skirt party, Geoff thought. Legs, both young and a little more mature, were unveiled to mid-thigh everywhere he looked. Drinks circulated constantly and a muffled low beat of music gave an excitingly expectant atmosphere. Jane seemed edgy, which he couldn’t understand at all, but like many couples they quickly drifted apart and merged in with others.
It was ten-thirty when Fran clapped her hands, bringing the buzz of chatter to a slow halt. ‘OK, everyone, we’ll get started,’ she declared to the slight surprise of Geoff who had been inhaling her perfume appreciatively and casting a few admiring glances down into the valley between her tits just before this. Flourishing a hat with folded paper tags in it, Fran circulated, letting everyone dip in. A few giggles came from the girls, but otherwise there was a sudden air of expectancy in the large lounge.
Reaching Geoff last, Fran proffered the hat with a smile. ‘What’s this for?’ he asked, dipping in. ‘Did no one tell you? It decides on who spanks who, darling,’ Fran smiled. Gaping at her departing back and watching the challenging roll of her tightly-sheathed bottom, Geoff unfolded his slip and read… ‘Fran.’ Staring across the room at Jane he saw that her shoulders were hunched and turned away from him. ‘No, I’m not going to — not here,’ Jane was mumbling, bright-cheeked.
‘The first one will be over the table — then we break up and make it more private — for the shy ones!’ Fran announced. Turning to the stereo, she brought the beat of the music up louder, whereat came a shriek from Terri who was drawn forward by her arms by two older women towards a table near the further wall. ‘No — no — not me!’ she screeched, trying to hang back, her heels digging into the carpet.
‘Oh, Fran, no!’ Jane blurted, drawing close to her stepmother.
‘Don’t be silly, darling — she always makes a fuss at first, just as you used to,’ Fran said. Unable to believe his eyes, Geoff watched the delectable Terri being bent forward over the table, wild cries coming from her and — with her arms held still — her skirt was raised to her waist.
‘I don’t want too-ooh-oooh!’ Terri blathered, her white round bottom already revealed half-naked on both sides of her tiny black panties. ‘Shush, darling!’ one of the women laughed, bringing a cry from the girl as her knickers were quickly rolled down into the bend of her knees.
Mouth dry and cock twitching, Geoff felt Fran sidle up to him. For her part Jane was being held by an all too familiar arm which had looped around her waist. ‘No!’ Jane kept saying weakly while one of the husbands of the two women holding Terri down drew a teasewhip out from the sideboard and ruffled out its thongs.
‘Jay-ay-ayne!…… F…F…Fran!’ shrieked Terri, twisting her head and feeling her panties slither down shamefully to her slim ankles. Sweee-issh! ‘Yeee-hee-heeee’ squealed the lovely captive as the splaying thongs seared for the first time across her out-thrust bottom. ‘Jeee-zus’ Geoff croaked. It wasn’t only her alluring cleft bum that he could see but the peeping of her quim, as everyone could. The gritting whine that came next from Terri as the thongs swished in again and the way her bottom writhed above her slim legs was bringing his cock up beneath his slacks in a way that Fran couldn’t miss as she stood close beside him.
‘Nooo-oooh-oooh!’ — Sweee-isssh-sweeeish! — came constantly from the table now. All around him girls and women were squirming their own hips as though they could feel every stroke themselves. Male hands reached slyly for their ardent rumps, fondling the plump cheeks without hindrance and feeling the upstretched lines of knickers and suspenders beneath.
Frozen as she seemed to be in her attitude and with Harriet beside her cautiously gripping one of her wrists, Jane herself opened her mouth in a soundless gasp. Trapped between two as she was, she felt a hand sidle up the backs of her warm thighs to taste anew the pouting bulge of her nylon-sheathed bottom.
‘Ow-ow-ow!’ Terri was sobbing. It wasn’t her first, but she’d never had her knickers down before everyone before. Jane could feel her legs wobbling as she watched. The hand teasing her was prying under the backstrap of her knickers and it was Harriet now whose arm was round her waist, making her stand still. It was as if Jane could feel every taunting, biting stroke of the thong-tips herself. Her eyes screwed up as, hot with embarrassment, she was forced to let a long thick forefinger probe her cleft.
It seemed to Geoff then as though he could see everything and yet as if it all were blurring into one. What was being done to Jane was quite im…im…impossible. What was being done to Terri was heart-thuddingly exciting. The little bitch was really rolling her bottom to it and her shrieks had died down to softer cries and whimpers, her face hid.
‘Don’t be shy, Geoff,’ he heard Fran murmur invitingly beside him. Taking his right hand she drew it around the back of her and placed it under the bulge of her bottom.
‘Kerrist, you bitch!’ Geoff ground. He couldn’t hold back any longer. The rhythmic Sweee-issssh! of the little sauna whip sounded still from the far wall as he swung Fran round to him, groping up her short skirt to find and fondle the paradise of her full cheeks, so fleshy so firm.
‘Aren’t I? But I always was, dear,’ Fran taunted, surrendering her mouth to his and caressing his prick through his slacks. ‘Take me upstairs now — the others are all going up,’ came her husking whisper after one of the longest and most luscious kisses he had ever known. Blear-eyed, Geoff saw the naked buttocks of the man who had teasewhipped Terri. Her arms were no longer held. Bubbling moans came from her as, arched beneath him, she took the pistoning of his cock.
‘Oh God, it turns me on — I want the cane,’ Fran husked. It was all a dream, Geoff decided. Half-bared bottoms were wriggling upstairs in front of them. ‘You will, won’t you?’ she asked him as they ascended, kissing as they went. Upstairs, doors were opening and closing, faint shrieks sounded.
‘Yes,’ Geoff said thickly. He wanted to get into her knickers more than anything now — cane and cock, if that was the way it had to be. Kerrist, he’d give it to her! A pair of bared legs disappearing into a bedroom between two people seemed to be Jane’s, he thought vaguely.
‘No-woh-woh!’ Jane was gasping already in anticipation of what she was going to get. There was hardly room in the small bedroom to move and Harriet was holding her already. ‘Yes, Jane, you silly — now stop it! I thought I’d cured you of this,’ Harriet said. Her arm rose and moved as of old, forcing Jane’s back down. With a sickly thrill Jane heard the key turn in the lock. ‘Get her knickers right off, Don,’ she heard Harriet say. Trying to kick backwards she received a burning smack on her knickered bottom that made her yelp. ‘H…H…Harriet… don’t let him!’ Jane shrieked even as her already-teased bottom cheeks were bared, her dress rucking up above her lacy bra just as her nightie had once done.
‘Not hard ones, Don — just bring her up to it as you did before!’ Harriet said, though it took all her strength now to control the sinuous wriggling of Jane’s slender, curvy body as a long-swishing cane whistled across her offered orb.
‘Nooo-hooo-noooo!’ came Jane’s thin wail. This was the way Harriet used to cane her, skimming it, biting a little but never deeply — just going on and on until her knees buckled and her raging cheeks sought and longed to be pressed comfortingly against something to cool the stinging, the burning.
‘Oh-ho-ho! I don’t want to!’ Jane sobbed, receiving now another and another, the hissing cane making her cheeks contract tightly while her waist was tightly ringed by Harriet’s arm. ‘If you don’t be quiet, Jane, you’ll get it harder. I know what you want all right,’ Harriet jerked; ‘be a good girl now, come on — push it out to him!’