Nula liked her blokes old-fashioned, her men to be men. Show her a “new man” and she’d show him the door. There was no need for chaps to be apologetic about their masculinity in Nula’s presence, quite the reverse. In her considered opinion a girl sometimes needed to be taken firmly in hand and Neil, her husband was the man who certainly did it for her.
Tentatively, all too acutely aware of three livid stripes decorating the lower curves of her pert posterior, she walked around the department store. High heels, short steps; short skirt, no bending.
Nula prayed she didn’t meet anyone she knew. Not that Neil would mind, no doubt he found the whole scenario amusing. After all, shopping had got her into the fix in the first place, and all because Neil had come home unexpectedly early.
Half an hour to go yet before this damsel in distress reached the privacy of home. Nula felt a surge of sexual excitement coursing through her; moistened at the prospect of the second half of her punishment still to come.
“Nula!” “Hi honey, you’re home early,” Nula tried not to sound so obviously startled.
“Looking good,” said her husband Neil appreciatively.
“Hey, what’s that behind the chair?” Nula looked guilty. “I, er, did a little shopping.” “A little shopping – Jeez Nula! More new clothes, we talked about this.” “I know but …” “But nothing, we can’t afford to go running up credit card bills.” “Bloody hell, Neil.” Nula pouted winsomely. “It’s only a couple of things, they look really nice on, I’m sure you’ll like them.” Neil ignored her pleading tone. “You agreed the rules; we discuss purchases together. Break the agreement and expect to be taken to task.” Oh dear, Neil had decidedly old-fashioned ideas about discipline.
“I’ll pay back the joint account,” she tried, hopefully.
“You’ll pay now,” growled Neil, bringing his hand sharply down on her tightly-jeaned backside.
“You’re going to spank me?” enquired Nula, hopefully.
“You wish,” said Neil with a wicked glint in his eye. “No, I think this behaviour warrants something more adventurous, my naughty little shopaholic. Listen carefully, here’s what I want you to do …” Dressed as instructed Nula had stood in front of the undisputed master of the house. Bare legs, high-heeled strappy sandals and the very short skirt she’d bought that morning.
“Very attractive, Nula. You were right, the outfit does look good,” agreed Neil, “although I can’t believe you intended that skirt for anywhere but indoors.” “No, definitely not,” Nula was quick to reassure him, “it was just something I’d thought you’d like.” “And I do,” abruptly his tone changed, “but since you can’t keep to simple agreements I intend to punish you. Bend forward and grasp your ankles.” Mutely, Nula obeyed, acutely aware that, bent over in this manner, the skirt revealed the lower cheeks of her admirably firm bottom, her modesty protected by only a slender thong.
“Good, now brace yourself, girl.” Gosh, Neil had never sounded so commanding; she loved it when he took control.
“Three strokes of the cane to begin with,” he said firmly.
“The cane? But you’ve never, I didn’t even know we had one …” Nula’s protest was interrupted by a swishing sound and a sharp impact on the lower cheeks of her buttocks.
“OW!” A fiery band blazed across the lower part of her haunches, Nula frantically jiggled her hips in response to the sting.
“Back in position,” Neil ordered, “straighten your legs.” The fire of the first stroke was still spreading across her nates when the second fell, exactly parallel, an inch lower.
“OOOF!” Nula cried out. “Blimey! Right on the sit spot.” “And the last one, for now,” said Neil calmly.
“Ow, Neil!” Both hands flew to her scalded cheeks; toes tapping an involuntary dance; Nula straightened up, flushed and excited.
“Smarts, doesn’t it?” he smiled. “Right, let’s see how much you really like shopping. We’ll drive into town – dressed exactly as you are – and you’ll walk around each of the three floors of the department store where you bought that skirt.
Bend even slightly and those stripes will be clearly visible and don’t even think of dodging off to the Ladies, because I’ll be watching. Once your little promenade is over, it’s back here for another three strokes making six of the best in all.” Blushing furiously at the recall of her incipient exposure to lascivious gaze Nula made it to the department store exit with a sigh of relief. Sitting in the car on the way home was less uncomfortable than the ride into town, perhaps because the risky escapade had been such a turn on. The public part of her penance was over, but she still had three strokes of the cane to endure.
Any thoughts that Neil might show clemency quickly disappeared once they were over the threshold. For the conclusion of her maiden caning, Nula was draped over the back of the sofa. Her skimpy lingerie offered no protection to the rattan-induced burning bands of fire Neil skilfully applied, but hurt though they undoubtedly did, Nula was stimulated to a state of sopping arousal. Neil’s gorgeous young wife was obviously hot to trot, so much so the narrow fabric of her thong almost disappeared between her loosening labia.
“Please,” Nula said with a rueful smile, “I’ve taken my medicine like a good girl and my poor, hot bottom hurts awfully – won’t you fuck me better?” Tearing off the redundant thong and freeing a towering erection, Neil dutifully did.
It’d be fair to say, reflected Nula afterwards, that her reaction to this first proper caning had been a revelation to them both. The enthusiasm with which she’d forced her sore haunches back towards his muscular abdomen, all the while crying out for him to take her hard and deep had been a passionate, unpredicted response. Indeed Nula secretly rather hoped history might repeat itself and soon. Meanwhile, Neil was determined to find an excuse for further punishments and equally orgasmic conclusions.
Several weeks passed before Neil saw his opportunity. Nula had started a new job and characteristically celebrated her first week’s pay with a small impulse purchase. Unluckily for her Neil just happened to have stopped off at the same mall and by even crueller fate he’d seen her stowing a shoebox in the boot of her car.
There was absolutely no point in arguing when confronted back at home, not least because she was secretly rather pleased to have been caught. Nula’s shoe fetish was clearly just another manifestation of her shopaholic misdemeanours.
“Yes, Neil,” Nula meekly replied when told to be in the lounge in 10 minutes to face the consequences of her profligacy. It’ll be my bottom on the receiving end again, she thought, with a sharp pang of adrenalin-fuelled excitement, better make sure I look as good as possible.
Hence the low cut black dress – and beneath it her finest lingerie – when she reappeared.
Neil was impressed but tried not to show it. Two dining chairs were stood incongruously together, back to back in the centre of the room. “Kneel there,” he instructed quietly, “knees on one side, hands the other, let the backs support your middle.” Quickly Nula scrambled to obey. “Could we,” she tentatively suggested, “draw the curtains in case the neighbours see?” “Certainly not,” her stern spouse was emphatic. “I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.” The naughty possibility of her chastisement being observed sent Nula’s thrill levels spiralling, but in keeping with the ritual she muttered a token objection.
“Right,” said Neil briskly, “we’ll have this dress up and these panties down.” The sheer stockings and suspenders he discovered in doing so caused an immediate stiffening of his resolve and Neil soon had the expensive wisp of lingerie down around her knees. Nula shivered as a cool breeze wafted across her exposed behind; it’d soon enough be hot to the touch.
Neil paused; it took all of his considerable self-control to resist taking his sensually-clad wife there and then.
Recovering his authority he solemnly pronounced sentence: “A dozen, on your disobedient bare bottom.” “Oh no, please don’t, let me off just this once and I’ll do anything you want.” Nula made a coquettish appeal for clemency. Right now she really would agree to any suggestion her dominant man cared to make. Take his long thick cock in her mouth? A pleasure. Allow him to tit fuck her and come on her boobs? Ditto. Take it up the bum; they’d only tried it a couple times. That hurt too at first, but afterwards … Her reverie was shattered by the first stroke. Neil had slipped his worn leather belt from its loops and doubled it.
Holding the tip in his left hand the buckle end in his right he bought the hide down diagonally across her porcelain moons.
Stepping from side to side, changing effortlessly from forehand to backhand he methodically strapped Nula’s perfectly sculpted behind. As the strokes crossed again and again so her pale, silky skin reddened. Nula drummed her fists, kicked her feet and shouted, all to no avail. After the promised dozen Neil stopped and she slumped breathless, stripes already turning red where they overlapped.
“Too hard,” “Nula pouted, eyes wet and her lips trembling.
“Too disobedient, Neil growled, “we’re not made of money.” Feeling a tad guilty at her obvious distress Neil picked up a jar of cold cream and carefully rubbed the soothing salve into her superheated derriere. Simultaneously she slipped two juice-slicked fingers into her vulva, pistoning the digits in and out of her craving quim, masturbating furiously to ease the pain and assuage her frustration. Quickly and noisily Nula came, whereupon Neil scooped her up in his arms and carried her off upstairs for a rather more leisurely second round.
In truth Neil was somewhat perplexed by Nula’s ambivalent embrace of CP. What had started as spanking foreplay had become considerably more complex. He was out of his depth and urgently required some advice from a more experienced hand. How best to punish Nula in future without overdoing the severity he wondered? She clearly expected him to be in charge – fine by him – but just how far could he go? There was only one person who Neil respected and trusted enough to solicit an opinion on such a confidential matter, his boss, Rod. Time for a serious discussion, thought Neil, reaching for his mobile phone … That following weekend they arrived for drinks with Neil’s boss, Rod. She’d heard much about the man Neil obviously held in high regard and Nula was much looking forward to meeting him.
The couple was welcomed into a substantial detached by a commanding, dapper figure in his 50s. In manner and appearance Rod was reminiscent of a Hollywood leading man from the black & white era. His wife Judy, nearer to Nula’s age than her husband’s, was equally charming although not quite the slender, blonde trophy wife she’d expected.
Curvaceous of figure Judy was blessed with an attractive face with cupid lips and big eyes. As she served them drinks Nula couldn’t help but observe that Judy was walking rather stiffly.
“Good to see you,” said Rod warmly, “and really Neil when you described Nula to me you didn’t do her justice, she’s so very beautiful.” From anyone else such a remark might have seemed patronising, yet so strong was Rod’s charisma he carried it off and Nula found herself smiling coyly in response.
“Now then,” announced Rod, after some inconsequential chatting, “time to get to the main point of this gathering. Neil has come to me with a couple of questions and I’m more than pleased to proffer some advice.” “The subject of his dilemma is domestic discipline. Now, I always take a keen interest in the lives of my protégés – after all, if a man can’t control his own household finances he’s going to be no good at controlling my firm’s assets.
“Although not an exact requirement it’s certainly an expectation that if a guy wants to get on at my company he needs to have his home life firmly under control.
“Mine is still a private firm, I don’t have to answer to the politically correct or fashionable whims of shareholders or the public. I don’t advertise posts; new staff is invited to join and senior management roles invariably go to men.
“As I understand it Neil’s enquiry encompasses two issues.
“Firstly, when dealing with an errant wife, how best to punish a persistent offender? Now we can of course take it as read that we are talking about corporal punishment.” “What!” Nula was shocked. “Neil you’ve mean you’ve been discussing our private arrangements …” “It’s all right, Nula,” Judy placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “No need to be embarrassed, I’m subject to exactly the same regime. You’ve already noticed that I’ve remained standing so far this evening?” “Why, yes,” Nula replied with an uncomfortable feeling she knew what the next revelation would be.
“That’s because when your bottom’s been as soundly smacked as mine was shortly before you arrived sitting is to be avoided for at least an hour or two.” “To return to my theme,” Rod continued his monologue, “I take it you’ve already employed the usual methods?” “The cane, a sound strapping – yes, of course,” Neil confirmed.
“Then allow me, with Judy’s assistance, to demonstrate some alternative ways of enforcing your message,” said Rod.
Judy threw her husband an anxious look. “Darling, must I...?” “Yes, you must,” answered Rod with unwavering determination. “We have already established that Judy received a spanking earlier …” Fidgeting awkwardly, his young wife nodded in mute affirmation.
“Which will have amply prepared her for a humiliating deterrent to future wayward behaviour.” Nervously Judy wrung her hands, no longer able to look Nula and Neil in the eye she instead turned her gaze downwards.
“Kneel on the seat of the chair please, my dear,” Rod instructed firmly. “Lift your dress to the waist and put your hands on your head.” Judy swiftly did his bidding, her raised hem revealing perfectly sculpted thighs and prominent bottom neatly framed by a white suspender belt and matching stockings. Through the translucent fabric of her expensive French knickers Neil and Nula could easily make out two blushing red cheeks and the imprints of livid crimson finger marks. Well spanked indeed, Nula could almost sense the throbbing smart Judy must still be experiencing.
“If you don’t already possess one of these,” Rod was brandishing a small multi-tailed, short handled whip, “I’ll put you in touch with my supplier. He imports them from France,” he continued, conversationally. “It’s a handy sized martinet, easy to use, extremely accurate and, according to Judy, stings like the very devil.” The expression of apprehension on Judy’s face as she looked apprehensively over her shoulder confirmed she was no stranger to this particular instrument of correction.
Swit, swit, swit. Nula and Neil watched, entranced, as Rod expertly began to chastise his wife’s errant posterior; each cocooned in their own inner world, both, if they but knew it, already feeling the first flush of incipient sexual stirrings.
“Oof … ah,” Schooled in obedience Judy had been trained not to deviate from the prescribed position, instead rotating her hips under the whip’s unforgiving onslaught.
Neil discreetly attempted to adjust his stance to accommodate a growing bulge in his trousers; Judy had a perfectly delectable arse. Nula, as if to prove women have a better innate capacity for empathy, was both imagining the increasing heat being stoked in Judy’s unfortunate hindquarters and aware of a dampening between her own legs.
“Judy, drop you knickers to your knees please.” With a satisfying swish of silk against nylon the flimsy covering was surrendered. “Lean forward and reach behind you,” commanded Rod.
Judy’s manicured red-painted fingertips alighted on each tender globe, even this mild contact enough to cause her to wince.
“Pull your bottom cheeks wide apart and hold them open.” Nula gasped and Neil hastily coughed to conceal his astonishment. Judy’s most intimate secrets were now clearly displayed to her rapt audience, the dark star of her tightly puckered anus and a glimpse of her dewy labia lips peaking out from curly wisps of auburn pubic hair. She’s getting off on this too, thought Nula, recognising the tell-tale evidence and feeling similar sensations herself.
“When punishing naughty bare bottoms proves insufficient then naughty orifices must be bought to book,” explained Rod.
Swit, swit swit, once more the stinging tails fell, cutting deep into the bottom cleft. Nula didn’t need Judy’s plaintive yell to underline just how painful those half dozen measured blows to her intimate parts must be.
“All over now,” announced Rod solicitously helping his delectably submissive wife unsteadily onto her feet. Gingerly she eased her knickers up over her swollen derriere, hesitantly smoothing her skirt into place and clutching her expertly whipped rear.
“No lasting damage but an eminently effective chastisement,” concluded Rod affectionately, “Judy certainly won’t be disobeying me for the foreseeable future, whatever I request,” he cast a conspiratorial glance at Neil, “she’ll agree to.” “And for my wife?” Neil asked, breaking the spell, which seemed to have rendered him and Nula temporarily speechless.
“Neil, you can’t be suggesting …” Nula’s anguished complaint wasn’t faked.
“We can take a prior smacked bottom as read can we?” asked Rod, paying her objections no heed.
“Like Judy, Nula was dealt with before we came,” replied Rod lifting Nula’s skirt in illustration.
“No!” Nula squealed at the indignity.
A familiar hand touched her shoulder. “Hush, darling,” whispered Judy, “the men won’t be gainsaid, better to accept their will with dignity, you’ve just seen what happens when one rebels,” she added pointedly.
Rod showed no sign of having heard this covert exchange but instead stooped to examine the evidence. Nula had dressed to impress, classy but not too provocative she’d decided, opting for an expensive Jersey wool dress that discreetly accentuated her figure. Beneath Nula was ashamed to reveal her modesty covered only by a pair of ultra fine tights.
Catching her off-guard Neil had pulled her over his knee and briefly spanked her minutes before they’d left the house earlier that evening; retaining her skimpy kickers in his pocket in order to ensure she sat circumspectly during their visit. Nula had a tendency to flirt after a couple of drinks and he didn’t want his boss to think her cheap.
“To answer your question, Neil, I’d begin by curbing this young lady’s unfortunate and annoying tendency to contradict and talk back.” Turning his domineering attention to Nula he fixed her with a frown, which turned her stomach to jelly. “Smacked legs, treated exactly as you’ve behaved, like a naughty child,” said Rod slapping the fronts and backs of her thighs and making Neil’s recalcitrant spouse dance and squeal, “And for very serious offences?” Neil persisted.
“Try this,” Rod appeared inured to Nula’s protests. “My dear kindly kneel up on the arms of that easy chair, a leg on each side.” Wide-eyed Nula remained transfixed. Quickly Judy moved to her side. “Come on, darling,” she cajoled, “let me help you, it won’t be so bad,” all the while guiding the confused woman into the required disgracefully revealing and inelegant stance.
“Elevates and spreads her haunches,” explained Rod, and Neil, impressed by the ease with which his boss had assumed control, simply nodded his approval.
“Normally I insist that the target area is completely bare, Judy would never dare wear tights anyway,” Rod went on.
“However in deference to the fact that Nula is our guest I’ll allow her to retain them on this occasion.
“This position affords unrivalled access for punishment of most intimate areas, you’ve already observed Judy’s inner thighs and exquisitely sensitive and tender bottom cleft under the lash. In this position, Neil, you have but to bring the tails of the martinet smartly up from below and you can soon whip that wicked little pussy. Even used softly it really stings and smarts doesn’t it, Judy?” The remark was clearly rhetorical since she stoically kept her counsel, cradling Nula’s head in her bosom.
“Makes subsequent walking, sitting and, above all, sex an extremely memorable sensation. Sparingly, mind, Neil. May I demonstrate?” “Of course,” Neil didn’t hesitate.
Nula’s anguished dissent was muzzled between Judy’s ample breasts, then she wrapped her arms round Nula’s shoulders and ensured her silence by kissing her long and hard.
As the cruelly questing tails swung across her now sodden sex so Nula experienced the contradictory sensation of her first tongue-probing Sapphic kiss. In truth, Rod’s punitive attentions to her pussy were nothing more than a token, the ritual sufficient to make his point plain. Men gave; women received, and were grateful.
Her martyrdom was mercifully short-lived and, pubic mound smarting, Nula stumbled down off the chair reluctant to surrender Judy’s embrace.
“Neil, your second query?” Rod enquired briskly.
“Simply this,” answered Neil, somehow managing to find his voice, “how should the punitive session conclude?” Rod, apparently anxious to move on, cut him short. “You mean should you have sex – having thrashed her, should you fuck her?” Judy and Nula exchanged glances, both thrilled by the crudity and directness of his words.
“The short answer old chap is yes. What better way to reestablish normal relations? I don’t accept this holier than thou denial of any sexual element to CP. The object of your affection, preened and polished, prettily dressed and presented – I insist on stockings and heels – has presented her most intimate parts to you. Of course you’re aroused, you’re a red blooded male. Don’t add insult to injury and ignore her charms.” “And if I might,” added Judy, “once a real man has imposed his domain over me I feel cherished and desired.
Certainly the punishment’s painful, but it is also arousing. We invariably conclude with sex and I recommend you both do likewise.” Far from cowed Judy looking lasciviously at Rod.
“So I’d like to claim my reward …” “If you’ll excuse us,” concluded Rod firmly. “Thank you Nula most, erm, stimulating; close the door quietly after you and I’ll see you in the office first thing Monday morning, Neil.” It was a few minutes into their drive home before either of them dared speak.
“I’ve been good,” ventured Nula seductively, “endured my punishment properly, didn’t show you up in company.” Turning to face him from the passenger seat, she guided his free hand to her crotch.
“You’re wet.” Nula slid a hand between Neil’s legs. “And you’re hard as an iron bar.” Neil pulled urgently into a quiet turning, no streetlamps, just trees and the light of the moon. “I can’t wait until we get home.” “Nor me,” gasped Nula, leaping out and leaning facedown over the bonnet tearing down her tights as she did so. “Now Neil – from behind …” Later they basked in the afterglow, sharing a cigarette.
“Sunday tomorrow,” observed Neil, “what shall we do?” “I’ve arranged with Judy to go shopping together,” giggled Nula. “I’m sure that can’t harm your promising career.”
Erotiske noveller skrevet af Laurel Aspen