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Sunday, 18 November 2018

Girl Talk

From Roué 12
Imagine, if you will, a modern housing estate. All the houses look the same, immaculately manicured lawns and neat picket fences, fresh white nets and shop-fresh paintwork.
Imagine, if you will, within this modern housing estate, four young wives. Bored, they are not Women’s Institute inclined or charitably interested in visiting the old, they find themselves with time on their hands, and a mutual interest. All four have husbands who like spanking and caning their so very different bottoms, and all four like being spanked and caned by their husbands. All four also like talking about it afterwards.
Imagine, if you will, that it is a glorious sunny August afternoon here on this modern housing estate. The neat picket fences are baking under the brilliant sun, the flowers drooping their brightly coloured heads just a little, longing for the coolness of the evening, and the refreshing watering to come.
In your imagination, open the front door of this smart house, taking care not to touch the wrought iron knocker and warn them of our approach, slide into the narrow hall and close the door softly behind you. Then, stooping down, you can see through the keyhole into the cool lounge, with its large picture windows and deep rich red velvet curtains.
There are four women in the room, the four we mentioned up there at the beginning of this piece of imaginative writing, and while they discuss who is sleeping with who and when, the price of tea, the state of the economy, and other related subjects we are most definitely not interested in, there is time for us to study these four young wives in greater detail.
Over there, in the armchair, long legs stretched out in front of her, completely at ease and yet retaining her elegant air, is Josephine Bradley. She’s 27, very tall and slim, with a 34-22-35 figure that needs a good deal of diet-watching and self-control to maintain. She has dead straight night-black hair which when released from the long plait trailing over one elegant shoulder, reaches to her waist. She brushes it out religiously every night. She is the only one of the four who smokes, and her smoking has become the subject of the discussion at this very moment.
Let’s eavesdrop a little.
‘I think we should make you give it up, Josie.’
That was Mandy Daniels speaking. She’s almost quivering with excitement, see how she wriggles her bottom in the chair. Mandy is 32, by a couple of months the oldest of the group. Now we’ve stopped at Mandy, let’s continue the description. She’s about average height, but a little overweight, enough to make her, well, 37-27-40, rounded, her husband James calls her, which suits her. She wears her naturally curly hair shoulder-length, it’s sort of brown, and it is the despair of Josephine, who is constantly on at her to have it cut and styled to suit her face, but Mandy persists in wearing it ‘comfortable’ and can we blame her?
‘I agree, how about a whack for every one you have?’ In case you’d forgotten, they were discussing Josephine’s smoking habits, and Ginnie Mills has chimed in. Ginnie is 29, just 5’ high, a vivacious sparkly blonde with a trim 34-24-35 figure that needs no dieting, Ginnie and her husband Michael are sports fanatics, playing every sport at every conceivable opportunity.
Before you ask, yes, the sport we love is part of their activity too.
‘But how will we know Josie is telling us the truth?’ and that voice brings us round to Mary Talbot, the occupier of the house we are eavesdropping in. Mary ‘leads’ the group, if a leader is appropriate for such a gathering. It was her idea in the first place, when by devious means she found out about her friend’s marital activities. Just how Mary found out her friends’ secret will be revealed later, first we have to look at Mary herself. She’s 32, the second oldest of the group, average height, 34-26-38, which she has to watch rather carefully, although you wouldn’t think so to see her putting two spoonfuls of sugar into her tea right now. She has dark hair, not quite black not quite brown, which she wears cut short with a black fringe. She is guaranteed to be the cynic in the gathering, which amuses her.
Back to Josephine’s smoking habit.
‘I’ll ask Gavin what he thinks.’ Josephine is lighting yet another cigarette. The more people talk about cigarettes to someone who smokes, the more they smoke. ‘It won’t be easy, but I will admit to wishing I didn’t smoke.’
‘That solves the problem, then’ Mandy really is excited now, perhaps it’s the thought of Josephine getting the cane? ‘I’m proposing that Josie comes to our next meeting, admits how many cigarettes she’s had and we give her the cane for every one.’
‘That could be rather painful,’ but Josephine laughs as she says it, so the thought can’t be too off-putting, can it? ‘Like I said, I’ll discuss it with Gavin, all right? Promise, next time we meet, we’ll have worked something out.’
‘And you will let us in on it, won’t you?’ Mandy’s eyes are sparkling with mischief, she has a vision in her mind, startling in its clarity, of the long-legged Josephine face down over one of Mary’s padded bar stools, knickers down around her knees, her slim almost boyish bottom awaiting the sting of the cane, as each of them take it in turns to lay a red weal right across her cheeks. The picture comes easily, it wasn’t that long ago that Josephine had a caning at her friends’ hands. Mandy flushes slightly at the thought and busies herself with her tea to hide her colour and her thoughts from the others. There was one occasion when the others found out what she was thinking, and it was her turn to be face down over one of the stools, baring her chubby bottom to the cold air while her friends gave her four each with Mary’s nasty wooden paddle, with holes punched round the edge for maximum impact, which stung madly from the very first whack. She had been on the point of tears by the time they had allowed her to get up, and after twelve whacks laid on hard by her delighted friends, she had needed a very soft cushion indeed for her burning bottom. That had been two meetings ago, last time it had been Ginnie’s turn over the stool, Mary’s rubber-soled slipper making a resounding noise as it turned her white bottom into fiery red. Mandy wriggled her bottom in the chair again. James didn’t seem to hurt half as much as her friends did, she was not anxious to go over the stool again — not just yet, anyway.
Josephine was fully aware of her wriggling and said slowly, ‘I think our friend Mandy is getting ideas again, girls.’
‘I’m not, honest I’m not’ protested Mandy violently, ‘if you want the truth, I was remembering what happened last time you found out what I was thinking, and I don’t want that again in a hurry, thanks very much!’
Ginnie laughed and grinned at Mandy. ‘Go on, Mandy, give us another chance, I enjoyed that, you wriggled so hard!’ she turned to Mary. ‘Mike got a paddle after all.’
All ears, the three girls draw closer to listen to Ginnie’s story.
‘He got one without the holes, I’m pleased to say, but it’s still broad and hard and hangs by a thong from our bedroom wall as a constant reminder. The first time he used it was a couple of days after he got it, actually, I’d been forgetting myself a bit, the odd swear word slipping out,’ she smiled ruefully, ‘you girls know how it is when you’ve not had a bit of discipline for a while. We’d had a particularly bad game of squash that night too, I’d missed a few returns that I could have reached if I’d tried a bit harder, and I knew by his look when I got home I would be for it. Into the bedroom, clothes off, usual routine, then over his knees, to see whether he could use the paddle effectively like that. Believe me, he can! I’ll admit I went over his knees reluctantly, I’d seen what a paddle did to Mandy’s bum! “Right,” he said “language first, six for that,” and he brought that paddle down on my bare bum, how it stung! It covers such a wide area, as you know, stings like mad, what am I telling you that for? Mary’s got one, Mandy’s had it — Josie?’
‘No, I’ve not experienced that,’ confessed Josephine.
‘Next time,’ warned Mary, ‘go on, Ginnie.’
‘Well, I yelped and kicked a bit, but I got the six for bad language, and then another six for the lousy game “to tone me up” he said, and boy, did I know I was toned up after that!’ she grinned at Mandy again. ‘I’d’ve laid it on a bit harder if I’d known just how much it stung!’
‘Good job you didn’t!’ retorted Mandy, wriggling her plump bottom, picturing Ginnie’s slim figure over Michael’s knees, her bottom going red from the very first whack, and after twelve to be so red and burning that she wouldn’t have sat easily for a couple of hours!
‘And then what happened,’ asked Mary in complete innocence, knowing full well that Ginnie wouldn’t answer that one! Ginnie turned her nose up and looked away.
‘No imagination,’ she told the others, and they laughed. Mary joined in the laughter, and then said, ‘I wish sometimes we had a different interest, don’t you?’ she dropped the comment into the cauldron of chat to see what it would provoke. The reaction was immediate and obvious.
‘Of course not!’
‘Why, it adds spice to everything, not only —’
‘And what else would we do with our bums, other than sit on them?’ Mary laughed gleefully.
‘You fall for it every time, don’t you?’ she teased, and immediately Josephine was on her feet, striding long-legged and firm to where Mary sat. She gripped Mary’s wrist firmly and pulled her up.
‘Your turn this time, come on!’ and together Ginnie and Mandy got Mary to the bar. Mandy grabbed a padded stool and pulled it out.
‘What’re we going to give her?’ she asked. ‘Taste of her own cane?’ asked Ginnie hopefully. She loved to see the vivid red weals springing up on someone else’s bottom, it added to her own anticipation when she had the cane herself.
‘Tawse,’ declared Josephine, voicing her own favourite, ‘that should stop her stirring it for a few meetings, anyway.’
‘Paddle,’ giggled Mandy, hanging on to Mary’s wrist as if afraid she’d escape. But Mary had no intention of escaping. At least once a month the four of them met for chat and stories, and each month someone ‘volunteered’ with an unfortunate statement or outright invitation in the form of sarcasm to have their knickers taken down and their bottoms soundly thrashed, it was all part of the fun, and their husbands appreciated it too.
‘Come on,’ she laughed, ‘you’ve all said something different, time you made up your minds!’
‘What did you have last time?’ asked Ginnie, trying to remember.
‘Cane,’ answered Mary simply.
‘That solves it,’ announced Josephine, ‘definitely tawse this time.’
‘All right,’ conceded Mary, ‘I’ve got a story to tell you about the tawse afterwards.’
Josephine hurried to the bedroom and found the spanking implements. Mary sighed as she rushed back, she had found it in record time, but then she kept no secrets from her friends, they all knew where the spanking implements were kept, and to be fair, she told herself, she also had a pretty good idea where theirs were kept too.
‘Knickers down,’ announced Mandy, and Mary cast a quick look at her. Mandy was definitely getting too interested in dishing it out, she’d have to watch her. Mary pulled up her skirt and began to push her flimsy nylon knickers down to her knees, before leaning over the stool and grasping the lower rail.
‘All right,’ Josephine had the tawse in her hand and was ready. ‘How many?’
‘Three each,’ suggested Ginnie, ‘that should stop her stirring for a while.’
‘Mandy?’
‘That’s about right, I think.’
‘Right, three each,’ said Josephine, ‘ready Mary?’
‘Just about,’ came Mary’s muffled voice from across the stool. Her stomach quivered with excitement as she waited.
CRACK!
‘Oww!’
CRACK! CRACK!
‘Not so damned hard!’ squealed Mary, as Josephine stood back to admire her handiwork. The three red lines across Mary’s heavy cheeks stood out from the creamy smoothness of the surrounding skin. Mary’s hand began to creep round for a quick rub but Mandy pushed it away.
‘No rubbing till it’s over,’ she said firmly, ‘you know that as well as the rest of us.’
Mandy took the tawse from Josephine and her pink tongue flicked round her lips in anticipation. She was getting almost as much erotic feeling from giving as receiving lately, it seemed. She walked round to Mary’s other side and brought the tawse down WHACK! across the inflamed skin.
Yoww!’ screeched Mary and wriggled violently, but Mandy ignored her frantic actions and laid the next stroke across the tender join of bottom and thigh and Mary screamed her protest loudly.
‘Are the windows closed?’ asked Mandy, as she brought the tawse down for the third time with another resounding WHACK that set Mary’s bottom jiggling and gyrating madly across the stool. Mandy handed the tawse to Ginnie and laughed.
‘Your turn,’ she said, ‘only three more to go, Mary.’
Ginnie looked carefully for a new place but all of Mary’s bottom had been covered with the angry red weals of the tawse, and there really was no place else to go, so with a firm wrist movement Ginnie cracked the tawse three times across Mary’s sore skin, bringing howls of protest. Mary struggled up as soon as it was over and rubbed her bottom madly, sniffing at the same time.
‘You absolute beasts!’ she cried, ‘you wait till I get the tawse in my hand to use on your bottoms, that’s all!’ She pulled up her knickers carefully, easing them over her hot flesh. Josephine returned the tawse to its place in the bedroom and then took her seat in the armchair.
‘Does Keith do it as hard as that?’ she asked as Mary gingerly lowered herself into the cushion-filled arm-chair.
‘Yes, but — well, I suppose it’s different when you’re going to get well and truly laid afterwards!’ Mary pulled at her hair, tugging it back into place. ‘What we really need is a resident stud in the bedroom to take over when we’ve done it each time.’ She dimpled prettily at the thought.
‘You were going to tell us about the tawse,’ suggested Ginnie.
‘Oh, I see, keen to change the subject, are you?’ teased Mary,’ don’t you like the idea of some six-foot handsome brute waiting to ramrod you into the mattress, hanging on to your sore bum?’
Ginnie coloured violently and they all laughed.
‘Don’t put ideas in my head!’ she pleaded, ‘I’ve got enough problems waiting till I get home anyway!’
‘Well, perhaps I’m being unfair, Keith will be home soon.’ Mary relented her teasing and returned to the subject of the tawse. ‘Keith ordered that tawse from that shop, you know? It was stiff and creased when we got it, and Keith suggested I went to our local leather shop to ask for something to soften it! Well, I couldn’t just go in and say “we’ve got a tawse, what have you got to soften it?” could I? so I said we’d got this leather belt. And then I found myself answering all sorts of silly questions about this non-existent belt, what I was going to wear it on, what finish it was, and I’m sure she didn’t believe me, not really!’
‘What did you end up with?’ asked Ginnie.
‘Dubbin at first, it seemed to colour the tawse but was a bit greasy until it sunk in. Since then we’ve worked on it a bit and used a bit of cooking oil too, lovely and springy now, as you just found out!’
‘Sure is,’ agreed Josephine, ‘might mention that to Gavin, although I think he’s got enough toys at the moment!’
‘Have you still got your birch?’ asked Mandy.
‘Yes, we’ve still got the birch, it gets a bit shorter every time he uses it, though,’ sighed Josephine, ‘we’ll have to make up a new one soon, I think.’
‘Hey, come on, girls, look at the time!’ Ginnie jumped to her feet. ‘Sore bums all round if we’re late for our tea.’
‘I don’t think I could take any more today’ said Mary feelingly, levering herself out of the armchair. Josephine laughed.
‘Your fault entirely for stirring it, you wouldn’t have been today’s victim if you hadn’t said that, would you?’
‘I haven’t been over the stool for a while’ said Mary, ‘thought it was my turn.’ She escorted them to the front door. ‘All right, same place next month?’
‘Month from today,’ they all agreed.
‘Right, see you all again soon,’ they grinned knowingly at each other as they walked up the path, out into the sunny suburban housing estate, just three young wives gone to have an afternoon of girl talk.

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