Secrets at the School Gate

Laura parked her car and made her way to the school gate for pick-up time. For once she had found a parking space easily and wasn’t late. She was also glad to see her friend Chrissie already there, which meant there was time for a chat before the doors opened and a horde of youngsters surged out. The school mums could be a cliquey lot but Laura was glad to have made friends with Chrissie who was reassuringly down to earth. They had seven year-old daughters in the same class and play dates between the girls meant that Laura and Chrissie had a chance for a natter. Laura worked part time for a magazine and her hours were flexible so she could generally make the school pick-up, while Chrissie was a full-time mother. Laura envied her friend who could decide how to spend the hours in her day while Chrissie was jealous of Laura’s opportunity to interact with other adults in her office. Everyone always thought that someone else had a more perfect life. Chrissie and Laura would often joke about who had the better set-up and their chats often strayed into their relationships with their husbands, whether they were seeing much action in the bedroom and so on.

Laura noted Chrissie’s tight jeans, which always looked as though they had been sprayed on, but she had to admit she had a delectable figure, with just the right amount of curviness in her bottom atop shapely legs. Laura did not feel she herself came off too badly in that department but there was no doubt that the gold medal went to Chrissie. Today Chrissie seemed to be wriggling around, never standing still for more than a few seconds.

“Hi, Chrissie,” she said as she approached. Chrissie turned round; “Oh hi Laura, you crept up on me.” Laura noted that Chrissie’s eyes seemed to be shining unusually brightly; she had vivid blue eyes set in a mane of blond hair and today they seemed to have taken on a particularly stellar quality. “You look particularly animated today,” she said. Chrissie hesitated, fixed Laura with a strange look and whispered “Oh, God, does it show?”

“What do you mean, does what show?” answered Laura quizzically.

Chrissie looked around to check that no-one was in earshot and said in a low voice, “You know Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“Yes, of course, we’ve all read that,” replied Laura.

“Well I’ve just had a real life Fifty Shades experience,” said Chrissie with a half-smile she couldn’t quite conceal.

“When?” asked Laura open-mouthed?

“Today at lunchtime.”

Laura eyed her friend’s bottom again. “Is that why you’re wriggling around like you’ve got ants in your pants?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have put these jeans on for pickup, they are just making it worse”.

“Making what worse?”

“The sting in my bottom” said Chrissie, blushing slightly.

“My God Chrissie, have you been getting yourself spanked?”

“I should say so, and before you ask, no, it wasn’t Neil, so don’t breathe a word. It was a man who is something of an expert in the art”.

Laura was aware of Chrissie’s predilection for having her bottom smacked and knew that Neil her husband was happy to oblige occasionally. However, Chrissie had complained in the past that he wasn’t really into it and didn’t quite conjure up the atmosphere she sought, which was to play the nervous schoolgirl facing her headmaster with trepidation.

“So how did this come about you little trollop, give me all the details,” asked Laura with a glint in her eye. “The kids will be out in a couple of minutes so you had better make it quick.”

“Well there’s this girl I know, in fact we were at school together, and we had slightly fallen out of touch, but out of the blue she e-mailed me and asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink. So a few weeks ago that’s exactly what we did, I left Neil baby-sitting and Jane and I went out for a bottle of wine, which then turned into two. We had a high old time recalling our school days, who we were still in touch with, who was doing what, who had got married and so on. Jane was still single and my recollection of her from school was that she was a bit of a goer. She wasn’t the best looking girl in the class but she was certainly enthusiastic where the opposite sex was concerned. She admitted that she had had quite a string of boyfriends but none had turned out to be a laster. She was doing quite a high-powered job in the City and balancing work and play with work winning more often than not. She admitted that sometimes she just didn’t have time for romance and wanted her more basic desires satisfied without the need for drinks, dinner, visits to the theatre, walks in the country and all of that. And then she dropped the bombshell — she knew this older man who she could ring up and visit, there was no romantic attachment, but he would deal with her needs and keep her happy for a month or two. So I asked if this was just an occasional hook-up and she looked me in the eye and said “Oh it’s not sex, he gives me a good spanking” which left me speechless. So I pressed her for the details and she told me all about it. He’s very cultured, early to mid-fifties, distinguished looking and he lost his wife to cancer a couple of years back. He couldn’t face going back into the dating scene and didn’t really want to, but there was one thing he very much enjoyed and was rather good at, which was spanking women’s bottoms. So he very discreetly put the word about, and waited to see what would happen. He was both surprised and delighted when the first woman approached him and then the second and then through word of mouth it turned from a trickle into a steady stream. She said he had about a dozen availing themselves of his services at any one time, from girls in their twenties to ladies in their fifties and I think sixties, married, single, divorced, you name it. There are no fees paid, it’s all very discreet and mutually beneficial. To cut a long story short I persuaded her to give me his details and I went to see him at lunchtime today.”

“So what happened?” asked Laura, her throat dry and her eyes alive.

“I fixed it all up over e-mail. He gave me the address and a time and his only stipulation was no trousers and no tights. So I thought I’d give him a bit of a come-on and wore stockings and suspenders underneath a pleated skirt that might just about pass for school uniform, with heels, a silk blouse and my hair up. When I turned up he offered me a cup of tea and then sat down to talk about what I would like to get out of the session, what my limits were, what implements I would be happy with, a safeword and so on. And then he put me over his knee, lifted up my skirt, eased down my knickers and gave me a good and unhurried spanking on the bare bottom.”

Laura looked across Chrissie’s shoulder and saw the children starting to come out of the doors. “Chrissie, I want his contact details. Drop me a text message and don’t breathe a word to anyone, and of course neither will I. What’s his name by the way?”

“He goes by the name Peter Carpenter, whether that’s his real name I really don’t know. Watch out for a text about Carpenters Upholstery, just in case anyone else sees it, I am sure you will have some chairs that need their seats attending to.” With that Chrissie gave Laura a surreptitious wink and went off to collect her daughter.

Laura was left flabbergasted. She had no idea that Chrissie was up to anything outside her marriage, but then she hadn’t said anything about sex so did just getting a spanking classify as infidelity? Laura persuaded herself that it probably didn’t and in any case she was certainly not going to say anything to Neil, nor to her husband James. It would stay strictly between the two of them. Laura quivered slightly as she thought of the word “strictly”. She had had one boyfriend, back in her early twenties, who had been into spanking and although the relationship did not last very long Laura had got quite excited by the whole scene. It wasn’t so much the sensation of actually being smacked — although that did get her quite aroused once her bottom had warmed up — it was more the mental and emotional side. To have a man tell her he was going to have to put her over his knee and spank her, the feeble protestations that she didn’t deserve it, his insistence that she needed to be punished, her reluctantly going over his lap and feeling her skirt being lifted up and then the gorgeous anticipation of knowing her knickers were going to be taken down and her bare bottom presented to him to do as he would with it, that was just deliciously, squirmingly sexy. And getting shafted from behind when your bottom was burning was a definite gold medal event. But she had put all that to the back of her mind since getting together with James who was inventive in lots of ways in the bedroom but his repertoire did not include spanking. And now Chrissie’s revelations had brought all the old memories flooding back. She knew she was going to have to contact this Peter Carpenter or forever wonder what might have been. She had no desire to carry on an illicit affair, she wasn’t going to answer an ad on the internet, but if she had the opportunity of a no-strings, no fee encounter with a good looking man who would take care of her hidden desires and what is more, who came personally recommended by someone whose judgment she trusted, then why not? And of course it would be just the once she assured herself.

Laura waited impatiently for Chrissie’s text in a fervour of anticipation and when it finally arrived she almost convinced herself that it was just a whimsical idea that there was no way she would ever put into practice. But the sight of the e-mail address and a mobile number for “Carpenters Upholstery” would not leave her mind every time she looked at her phone, scrolling down to check it was still there. Finally, on one of her days off she stood in front of a full length mirror in her bathroom in just her underwear and surveyed herself critically. She was 5′ 9″ tall, good legs, a bottom she felt was a bit too big, a few pounds of excess weight round her middle, pert 36B boobs but all in all, not bad for a 37 year old. She knew the dark auburn wavy hair, generous lips and grey-blue eyes garnered a certain amount of interest from other fathers at her daughter’s school but would she be attractive to a sophisticated, experienced fifty-something who apparently had his choice of bottoms to spank? She turned round with her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder, hooking her thumbs into her knickers and slowly sliding them down, imagining the mysterious Mr Carpenter doing it instead. She had to admit it was quite a turn-on. Then she caught herself mid-thought. Who was getting the benefit here, after all going by what Chrissie had said he was more than happy to dispense a bit of discipline, why was Laura worried that she wouldn’t come up to his standards?

Having decided to go through with it, should she ring him or e-mail him? On the one hand it was easier and less stressful to e-mail but how much should she reveal and what if he didn’t reply? She would be left in an agony of anticipation and of course there would be an incriminating trail which, however unlikely, might just come to light one day. She decided to muster her courage and call him, but nonetheless her fingers trembled slightly as she dialled the number. It rang a few times and then a rich voice said “Peter Carpenter.”

Laura hesitated and then blurted out, “Mr Carpenter, I was given your number by a friend of mine, her name is Chrissie and she came to see you last week, she is a blonde about 5′ 5″ and we know each other from….”

Peter Carpenter cut her off. “No don’t be nervous, yes of course I know who you mean, Chrissie is a lovely girl and she did indeed come and see me last week. Now, what is your name please?”

“Oh sorry, it’s Laura,” she stammered, “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. The thing is I was wondering whether I might arrange to come and see you, Chrissie recommended you highly and I….” Her words trailed off. She somehow couldn’t tell him she wanted to see him in order to have her bottom spanked.

“That’s all perfectly OK and I should be delighted to see you Laura,” Peter Carpenter interjected reassuringly. “We can discuss all the details when we meet, did Chrissie explain the one rule I have which is no trousers and no tights?”

“Er, yes,” replied Laura nervously.

“Well when would it be convenient to come? I could do Wednesday or Friday next week, any time from noon onwards and I live in Wimbledon.”

Laura thought quickly, she really wanted to get this over with as soon as possible but her next day off would be Friday so it would have to be then. “Shall we go for Friday at noon, and where do I come?”

“Don’t worry, I will drop you a text with the address the day beforehand, it’s fairly easy to park around here in the middle of the day. I look forward to seeing you next Friday, Laura. And don’t be nervous, I am good at what I do and I am very sympathetic with first timers,” replied Peter. And with that the line went dead.

Laura stared at her phone in something approaching dread. She had a whole nine days to think about what might be in store for her. What should she wear? How would she be able to explain to him what she wanted? Would there be any sexual element or gratification — she hadn’t thought to ask Chrissie that? And how would she be able to act normally in front of James? She resolved to have another word with Chrissie. Fortunately as Chrissie was a full-time mother she should be able to get her on the phone easily enough. She wasn’t going to risk another chance encounter at the school gates, not knowing who might be overhearing. She rang Chrissie’s mobile, which fortunately was answered on the third ring.

“Chrissie, it’s Laura. You know your friend Peter Carpenter, I’ve arranged to see him next week.”

“Ooh, you hussy, you didn’t waste much time,” laughed Chrissie.

“Well, look, can you tell me a bit more about what it’s like, what to expect,” asked Laura breathlessly.

“Like I said at the school gates, he’s charming, he’ll ask what you want to get out of the session, for instance is there something you’re hiding that you feel you need to assuage your guilt over by being punished, have you done this sort of thing before or are you just wanting to experiment, and then can you afford to have any marks left, that sort of thing.”

“Oh God, I hadn’t thought about marks, what on earth did you do?”

“Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, if you don’t want any marks left he’ll make sure just to redden your bottom but nothing that will last longer than a few hours.”

“And you did get it on the bare bottom did you?”

“Yes of course, it’s not really a proper spanking unless you have it on the bare,” sniggered Chrissie.

“And was it just with his hand or did he use anything?”

“Oh he started off with his hand but then he moved on, he’s got quite an array of implements, it depends what level you feel happy with.”

“I’m starting to wonder what I’ve got myself into,” confessed Laura. “And is there any sexual element, like did he touch you up at all?”

“No he didn’t,” replied Chrissie, “because I made clear that was not what I was after. But I sort of got the impression that he would offer some extra services if you were up for it.”

“Um, OK, thanks Chrissie,” replied Laura uncertainly.

“I’m dying to hear how it goes, let me know,” replied Chrissie cheerily and rang off.

The following days were an agony of anticipation for Laura. She tried to get on with life as normal and the preoccupations of family life, her part-time job on the magazine and even sex with James helped to keep her busy, but her thoughts kept straying to what it would be like over Mr Carpenter’s knee with her knickers down, preparing to be spanked on her bare bottom. One matter that she spent inordinate time on was the question of what to wear. Obviously it had to be a skirt and she had in mind a floaty, multi-coloured skirt that came demurely to just on the knee but which could be lifted up easily, with a purple shirt and a white jacket. Then there was the question of underwear; the skirt definitely looked better with nylons but tights were out so it would have to be stockings and suspenders, black of course and worn with a pair of black lace shortie knickers that she rather thought enhanced her bottom. And then perhaps some sensible looking court shoes with a two inch heel?

By the time the following Friday finally came around Laura was as taut as a high wire. She didn’t quite know whether she wanted it all to go away, whether she wanted to be there, with Peter Carpenter attending to her backside right now, or whether she wanted it all to be over. Peter had texted his address the night before and Laura had checked it out on Google Maps. His house looked to be in a nice part of Wimbledon and she memorised the route. It would only take her 20 minutes or so from Battersea but she didn’t want to be late so planned to leave before 11.30. God knows what the punishment would be for lateness! She dropped off her daughter at school having waved James goodbye earlier and started attending to her preparations immediately. A nice long shower included washing her hair and then she dried herself and examined herself naked in the mirror once more. She got out her Mason & Pearson hairbrush with the smooth ivory back and studied it critically before bringing it down behind her back to give herself a satisfying whack on the bottom. She saw the blush it made in the shape of the head and then twisted to give herself a matching mark on the other cheek. Best to be prepared she thought and hoped the redness would disappear quickly. She sat in her stockings and suspenders brushing and blow drying her hair and putting in heated rollers for that slightly wavy look. Next was to apply subtle make-up, a hint of mascara and eye-liner but no lipstick. Finally she donned the clothes she had selected, standing in front of the mirror to see how far up her thighs the skirt went when she bent over. Just a hint of stocking-top seemed about right. She checked her watch; it was still only 10.45 so she had some time to kill. She made a cup of coffee and read the morning paper without really seeing the words on the page. She was envisaging herself bending over a piece of furniture with her skirt raised while Peter Carpenter brought a wicked looking thick leather strap down on her unprotected buttocks.

She checked her watch for the umpteenth time and finally it said 11.25 so she gathered her bag and car keys and made for the front door. There was relatively little traffic on the road and she made it to Peter Carpenter’s address without difficulty by just after 11.45. What to do now, she couldn’t really march in ten minutes early so she sat outside in her car and studied the house. It was a comfortable four or five bedroom detached property with a short driveway and some well-tended flowers in the front. There was probably a decent-sized garden at the back. Peter had obviously done well for himself and Laura wondered whether he still worked. Suddenly her phone pinged to signal a text message. It was from Chrissie and simply said “Butterflies in your stomach sitting outside the headmaster’s study?” followed by a winking emoji. It was all very well for her thought Laura, she had had her baptism and I bet she was nervous beforehand.

With agonising slowness her watch ground round to two minutes to 12 and Laura decided it was time to face the inevitable. She strode purposefully to the front door and rang the bell. She heard footsteps inside and then the door swung open to reveal a tall man in suit and tie and highly polished shoes. His dark hair was showing a hint of grey at the temples and his deep-set eyes twinkled at Laura from behind a pair of glasses. She was relieved to see he was clean-shaven.

“You must be Laura,” he said, standing back and beckoning her inside. “Do come in. Would you like some tea, or coffee?”

“A coffee would be lovely,” replied Laura, her earlier apprehensions starting to drain away. First impressions were very favourable. He led her down a corridor and into a comfortable sitting room overlooking the back garden. She immediately noticed a generous-sized sofa along the middle of one wall facing the window and an old-fashioned escritoire with a high-backed chair in front of it.

“Take a seat and I will be back with some coffee,” said Peter.

Laura looked around. The room was nicely furnished, well-chosen fabrics and some decent prints on the walls. Everything looked tidy; she assumed that Peter lived alone following the death of his wife. Children grown up and flown the nest probably?

Peter reappeared with a tray on which sat a cafetiere, two cups and a small milk jug. “Would you like milk?” he asked. “Yes please, just a splash”, said Laura. Feeling bold she followed up with “It’s a very nice place you have here, do you live alone?”

“Yes, ever since my wife died and the children headed off for university and then jobs.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your wife, Chrissie told me,” confided Laura.

“Well. One of those things, nothing anyone could do about it,” he mused.

“And are you still working, I mean separate to your er, hobby?”

Peter smiled slightly. “Yes, I am a financial analyst, I work for a major bank in the City but I can do my work from here just as easily, everything is on-line, I only go in to talk to colleagues and the like about once a week. Which leaves time for my little hobby, or should I call it ‘service’.”

“So is it all word of mouth?” asked Laura.

“Oh yes, as it was in your case evidently. I’ve got no interest in advertising on some website, I don’t charge and I only want to see women who are genuinely interested in the subject. They get something from it and so do I, so everyone is happy. It’s something I practised with my wife until she got ill and I found myself rather missing it once she had gone, so that’s how it started.”

He turned more business-like and regarded his guest keenly. “So Laura, what interests you about corporal punishment and what do you want to get from this session? I think it’s best to be completely open and with luck you won’t go away disappointed. Do you feel you need to make amends for a foolish act, do you find spanking a turn-on or do you just want to try it to see what it’s like?”

Laura found herself blushing but managed to explain about the old boyfriend and the desire that had lain dormant for so long until Chrissie had provoked the subject.

“So you see, it’s not something I am looking to try for the first time but I haven’t done it for a long time and I just sort of, want to remind myself what it’s like. It’s that feeling of trepidation as you know what’s about to happen, that you can’t stop it and you’re going to be vulnerable, or rather your bottom is. And yes, I do find it a turn-on.”

“Excellent, well I am sure I can help. Now, do I take it that you can’t afford to have any marks showing? Because I can certainly redden your bottom but that will fade away within a few hours. And do you have any preferences with regards to implements?”

“You are right about the marks. I thought you were just going to use your hand, but what else do you suggest that won’t leave marks?”

Peter got up and went to a tall cupboard that was artfully concealed in a bookshelf. He pressed a panel and the door swung open to reveal a large collection of disciplinary implements.

“I have leather and wooden paddles, slippers, the reliable hairbrush, all sorts of leather straps, tawses and of course the cane. Oh and the riding-crop, but in your case I think we had better forget the canes, the riding-crop and the tawses. Basically anything with a narrow impact area is likely to leave marks, so apart from the hand we are left with paddles, the hairbrush and we could try one of the wider leather straps as long as I don’t apply too much force. So far as position is concerned I very much favour the traditional over the knee position, but the strap — and indeed the cane and the tawse – require you to be bending over the desk. And while I am very happy to warm you up with your knickers on, I do find that the punishment proper is best carried out on the bare bottom so that I can assess impact and effectiveness. So far as safewords are concerned, I will just ask you if you are green, amber or red. They are self-explanatory really, if you say green then everything is fine, if you say amber I will reduce intensity and if you say red, I will stop immediately. Now how does that sound?”

Laura found her mouth had gone very dry. In a quiet voice she said “I think you should put me over your knee for a good spanking, I will let you be the judge of when to take my knickers down and I think I would like to try the leather paddle and the hairbrush once you have warmed me up by hand.”

“Very good, then I suggest that you take off your skirt and your jacket and bring the black oval paddle and the large Mason & Pearson over to me on the couch.” With that Peter removed his own jacket and sat in the middle of the sofa. Laura went to the open cupboard, selected the items that Peter had requested and brought them to him. Standing straight in front of him she shrugged off the white jacket and then unzipped the floaty skirt and let it fall to the ground. She faced Peter in her purple shirt, stockings and suspenders and the court shoes.

“Very nice, stockings and suspenders always frame a woman’s bottom nicely while offering absolutely no impediment to the action,” commented Peter. On reflection Laura decided to dispense with the purple shirt too, and that soon joined her skirt on the floor, the black lace knickers now complemented by a bra of the same material. “I think I’m ready to start,” she said.

Peter patted his lap and she draped herself over it, ensuring that her bottom was over his thighs in order to push it up. She turned her head to one side in the soft cushions of the sofa and found herself looking at a small floor level mirror she had not noticed before, that gave her a side view of her stocking-clad legs and bottom.

“You have a wonderful bottom, just made to be spanked,” said Peter appreciatively.

“Well it’s too big but I do keep it in shape with tennis and the gym,” replied Laura from amongst the sofa cushions.

“All women think their bottoms are too big, trust me I am an expert, but yours is perfect,” reassured Peter as he brought his hand down smartly on first the right cheek and then the left three times in succession. “Now we’ll start up with a warm-up session by hand, gradually getting harder,” he said as he methodically smacked each cheek in turn. He wasn’t doing it very forcefully and Laura found it pleasantly stingy. “Are you on green?” asked Peter solicitously. “Oh definitely green,” replied Laura but she noticed the tempo and the impact was increasing almost imperceptibly. It was definitely getting warm inside her knickers, both at front and back. She applied weight to her elbows and thrust her bottom up ever so slightly to meet each downward stroke, wriggling slightly from side to side. Peter recognised the signal instantly and slapped the lower reaches of her bottom, just below the knicker line, with greater intensity. Laura arched her back, took some weight on her knees and started to move her hips rhythmically over Peter’s lap in time with the strokes.

“Still green?” asked Peter. “Very much so, I am just enjoying the warm-up,” replied Laura coquettishly. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that,” muttered Peter enjoying the sight of the shapely bottom still encased in the black silk knickers, gyrating over his lap. He distributed a dozen further firm smacks over both cheeks and then paused. “I think it’s about time this naughty girl had her knickers taken down so that she can benefit from the spanking she so richly deserves, on her bare bottom,” he announced. “You’re in charge, it’s your decision,” came the muffled reply from the cushions as Laura lifted her hips to assist with the lowering of her underwear. Peter hooked his thumbs into the waistband on both sides and agonisingly slowly pulled them down over the suspender straps and down past the stocking tops. “Oh very nice, you’ve got quite a rosy bottom already, but we must improve on that, I want to see a nice crimson glow all over. Still green Laura?”

“Yes still green, please just get on with it,” pleaded Laura.

“Oh, getting impatient are we, you might just regret that,” smirked Peter as a volley of flat-handed smacks landed across the centre of both cheeks of the voluptuous bottom across his lap. I think you’re going to find it stings a lot more on the bare bottom, my girl.”

“Ooh, I do hope so,” replied Laura suggestively as she ground her thighs together.

“Hmm, I can see it’s time we moved up to the leather paddle,” said David, noting the obvious signs of her arousal. “I think you will find this more to your liking.”

With that Peter picked up the oval paddle lying beside him on the seat of the sofa and administered half a dozen rapid swats to each cheek in turn, producing a report like a series of loud cracks and causing the writhing hips to redouble their action.

“Mmm, stingier but still green,” came the breathless voice from the cushions. Peter laid down the paddle and very gently stroked the backs and insides of her thighs. “Time for a little intermission while the endorphins get to work,” he soothed. “I believe in the trade this is known as an extra. Just let me know if you are still comfortable.” His fingertips traced up the insides of her thighs and probed very gently along the edge of her pussy, causing Laura to spread her legs slightly and arch her back a little more. “Yes very comfortable thanks,” she murmured.

Peter’s forefinger and middle finger continued to advance upward, finding the hot sticky wetness of her slit and moving rhythmically back and forth. Laura moaned softly and thrust her hips back more, inviting him to continue his explorations until he located her clitoris on which his fingertips started making circular motions.

“Well, I believe you when you say that you find spanking a turn-on,” he whispered, “but it hasn’t finished yet”. A muffled groan came from the cushions as his fingers pressed harder. “In fact forward girls like you deserve a harder spanking, after the paddle you have the hairbrush so feared by generations of naughty schoolgirls, to look forward to.”

With that Peter withdrew his fingers but burrowed his left hand under her hips from the side until his fingers on that hand located the spot so recently vacated by his right and began the same circular massaging action. He picked up the leather paddle again with his right hand and began a rhythmic spanking of the reddened bottom cheeks. The moans from Laura were getting louder now as his fingers continued the stimulation of her clitoris while he administered increasingly loud swats to her bare bottom with the paddle.

As Laura’s breath came in increasingly short gasps and her wriggling increased Peter subtly slowed the work of the fingers of his left hand, while maintaining the power and tempo of his right. The massaging of her clitoris slowed to a snail’s pace as he laid down the paddle.

“I think you are enjoying this, young lady, which is not the point of corporal punishment at all,” he stated in a mock-serious tone. “It’s time to move on to what I know you have been waiting for, the Mason & Pearson hairbrush, which might have been designed specifically for punishing naughty girls’ bottoms.”

“I don’t care what you do with the hairbrush as long as you get on with it and don’t stop what you are doing with your fingers,” gasped Laura.

Peter brought down the hairbrush sharply on the lower portion of each cheek in turn causing an involuntary flinch from his subject. “You might regret that you little minx,” he admonished, “amongst aficionados the hairbrush is held in almost as much awe as the cane or the tawse.” He demonstrated this by applying half a dozen firm strokes, producing a most satisfying thwack, to the crimson cheeks in front of him.

“Yeeeeow, amber,” shrieked Laura.

“See what I mean about the hairbrush,” grinned Peter, “OK we’ll tone it down a bit, but you should now be reaching the point where the endorphins mask the pain but still allow you to benefit from the heat. And this delicious bare bottom is certainly feeling warm.”

“I can feel the heat alright,” mumbled Laura, starting to move her hips back and forth over Peter’s lap in search of more friction against her pussy. Peter recognised the signs and slowly increased the pressure of his fingers against her clit while applying gentler pats to the well punished bottom. As her breathing shortened again he subtly increased the firmness of the strokes in tune with the massaging of her clitoris until finally he spanked her to a shuddering, gasping climax. As her cries mounted and then gradually subsided he threw down the hairbrush and gently stroked her blazing cheeks.

It took Laura some time to regain her equilibrium as her hips twitched involuntarily over Peter’s lap, but eventually she hauled herself unsteadily to her feet and faced her punisher through moist eyes streaked with mascara, her knickers still round her knees and her chest heaving.

“My God, that was extraordinary, I’ve never had an orgasm like it,” she panted.

“The mixture of pleasure and pain can be very powerful,” replied Peter, eyeing her sympathetically. “You certainly seemed to be enjoying it so I didn’t hold back.”

Laura turned her back to mirror to investigate the depredations inflicted on her backside. She stared at a glowing crimson bottom, but looking more carefully she could not see any signs of bruising or the outline of any of the implements Peter had applied to her bottom. Peter sensed her concern and reassured her. “It’s all down to the width of the implement. As long as you distribute the force over a wide enough area you shouldn’t get any bruising or marks, while you will certainly get a lot of reddening. That should largely have disappeared by the time you go to bed, but it might be safer to undress in the dark, or in a separate room, just in case.”

“How thoughtful of you, Master,” replied Laura in an ironic tone. She had regained proper control of her underwear and was sitting in the high-backed chair facing Peter, with her stocking-clad legs crossed. “Now what do you get out of all this? It’s not for money so is it just for fun?”

“Certainly I enjoy spanking deserving girls on their naked bottoms,” smiled Peter. It takes me back to my very happy married life.

“But what did your wife do for you after she had been spanked?” asked Laura with one eyebrow raised and glancing not too furtively at the crotch of Peter’s trousers. “I expect at the very least she must have done this,” breathed Laura as she left her seat and positioned herself next to Peter on the sofa, with her fingers busy first with his belt and then with his zip. She plunged one hand inside his trousers and pants and eased out his stiff cock.

“She will have known how much you got turned on by spanking her and wouldn’t have just left you there with a straining penis and your balls turning blue. I expect she probably got well screwed from behind but that’s not part of the deal today. She must at the very least have given you a relaxing hand job, probably while reliving her experiences over your knee.” Laura was running her fingers in a fan shape over the head of his penis while cupping his balls in the other hand. She stared into his eyes. “Am I on the right track?” she asked wide-eyed. Peter nodded and inhaled loudly.

“Then I expect she told you how much she had enjoyed being ordered to strip to her underwear, perhaps she had to bend over that escritoire for a few strokes with one of your leather straps over her knickers, before she went over your knee for a good, long slow spanking on her bare bottom?”

Laura had her lips pressed close to Peter’s ear as she fondled his penis steadily and firmly. “Did she get the hairbrush on the bare bottom, like me? Did she wear stockings and suspenders to be spanked in? Perhaps school uniform too? Did she get so turned on that you could bring her to a climax just through spanking her?”

Peter jerked and gasped as Laura deliberately slowed her handiwork. “Did she sometimes surprise you dressed in her “ready-to-be-spanked” outfit with one of your paddles in her hand and ask to be spanked there and then over your knee?” Peter could control himself no longer and ejaculated mightily into Laura’s hand and over her lap. He slowly recovered his composure and grinned ruefully at her. “Yes, something like that,” he admitted.

Laura found some tissues and cleaned herself and him up as best she could before stepping back into her discarded skirt and shirt. She regarded Peter fondly. “I thought this was going to be a one-off but I can see I might need a regular course of discipline to keep me on the straight and narrow. And if my husband is away on business for a couple of nights I might just have to bend over your escritoire to see what a few strokes of the tawse on my bottom feels like.” Peter rose to his feet.

“It was delightful to see you Laura and do come again, if that is not too much of a double entendre. Like you I enjoyed it very much and thanks for the memories.” She kissed him lightly and made her way to the front door. “See you again soon,” she called and made her way to her car.

She saw Chrissie at the school gate a few days later. “You were right, wearing tight jeans just after a visit to Peter Carpenter isn’t such a good idea,” she whispered sotto voce.