Author’s note: This story contains graphic descriptions of consensual corporate punishment in the form of caning and references to paddling. If this is offensive to you, please be warned, and don’t read on.
All the participants in this story are adults over the age of eighteen years. As usual, none of the characters depicted are real and any similarity to real places or people living or dead is purely coincidencidental.
Please comment and score. Any constructive criticism positive or negative is welcome. Far too few folk score and even fewer make comments, especially after reading BDSM stories.
As always, any errors in editing are mine and mine alone.
The Story of Thao (Part 3)
Christopher
June
I still remember how beautiful I thought Thao was when I first saw her. It was a Saturday afternoon in early June, and she had just moved in next door. We were having a barbecue, and Aimee had thought it would be a good idea to invite her over and welcome her to the neighborhood. Thao appeared wearing a tight-fitting yellow floral dress. She was tiny, and graceful in the way she moved, and her beautiful smile gave the impression of innocent and vulnerability. Since then, I have learned that she is neither of these. Her beauty and grace believe her well-hidden and impalable cruelty and her need to inflict pain, and her childrenlike tiny frame gives no hint of the strength of her arm or her insatiable need for sex.
Unfortunately, Aimee noticed me admiring Thao, and I knew then that I was in trouble. Aimee was on the other side of the yard from me when, just for a moment, Thao had her back to me and I took the opportunity to appraise her small tight bum. That was also the moment that Aimee chose to look across at me, and I saw first a look of disapproval and then a brief smile of pleasure cross her face. Shortly after that, when I was alone at the barbecueand turning the steaks, she arrived by my side.
She smiled at me.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” she said sweetly.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Her voice and expression grow more serious.
“You haven’t even asked who I’m talking about, Christopher, so I know you are lying.
She paused, and now her tone was very serious. She spoke softly so that nobody would hear her and continued to smile.
“What happens to liars, Christopher?”
I hesitated before I spoke.
“They got punished, Aimee.”
“Yes, of course they do. We both know you were admiring our new neighbor. I saw you looking when you thought no one else was. You were leering and it was rude. What happens to rude people, Christopher?”
“They got punished, Aimee.”
“That’s right… seriously. Just as you will be later when our guests have left. For now, you can think about what you’ll be getting from me. A good hard bare bum caning…”
Before she could say anymore, I saw Thao approach hold a glass of wine in her hand. I remember her dainty hand with its beautifully manicured slender fingers. Little did I know how she would use them on me in the future – either in her bed or standing behind me with an instrument of chatisement in her hand. For now, however, that was in our future.
“I wanted to catch you together,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“We’re both Very glad you could make it,” replied Aimee with a happy smile.
I knew she was thinking of the punishment that I had earned, and she would enjoy giving me. This was to be the first of many thrashings that Thao was responsible for, but the only one that she had no direct part in delivering.
Thingking back, I’m not sure that, on this occasion, Thao bore any blow. I had not been distributed for over a month and a beating was long overdue. The marks from my previous caning had faded and my bum was a pristine white.
Aimee once told me that she liked my buttocks most whenThey were pale and unmarked or freshly scored after a caning. That afternoon she was looking for a reason to discipline me and if I hadn’t been caught admiring Thao, I’m sure she would have found something else.
I spent the afternoon in an age of waiting, torn between fear and excitement. I didn’t know exactly what to expect other than she was going to cane my bare bottom, that it would be extremely painful indeed, and by the time she was finished my bum cheeses would be swollen, bruised, and deeply ridged. She never gave me less than eighteen or more than thirty-six strokes, but the high number had only been given once for a very serious translation when I had totaled the car, the previous year.
Sometimes she was clothed and sometimes naked during a punishment session. My bum was always bare for my “correction.” If she planned to deliver over eighteen strokes I was tied down over the table and didn’t have to count. For a “minor infrastructure” I was required to bend overa chair and hold on tight. That was easier said than done, and lifting hands or feet incurred penalty strokes.
My prick was hard inside my trousers as I moved among our guests, and I hoped nobody would notice my bulging groin. Predictably, Aimee did, but I comforted myself with the thought that she knew what to expect following our brief conversation. Partway through the afternoon I went upstairs to the bathroom and Aimee followed me. She caught up with me in the corridor, pushed me gently against the wall, kissed me hard and briefly on the lips, and then I felt her hand against my hardness,
“You’ll have to hold yourself to piss, she whispered. But heaven help you if you wank. I’ll double the number of strokes. I swear I will. And no more alcohol. I want you stone-cold sober when I deal with you.”
***
It’s not so easy to make small talk to your friends when you know your wife will soon be able to you, but I did my best. If I was more subdued than normal, nobody noticed. Aimee’s mood was buoyant and elated and she was full of bonhomie. Normally when she and I are together in public she does not boss me about but that afternoon she could not help herself. I remember Thao mentioning her garden gate was broken and Aimee volunteered me to fix it. Eventually, that became a reason for another caning, but that’s a different story.
By nine o’clock, people were starting to Leave and by half past, when the light was starting to fade significantly, everybody had gone. Thao had kindly offered to help clear up, but Aimee had decided.
“Christopher will see to it but thank you anyway” she replied.
Aimee was the last to leave. Aimee said goodbye to her and returned to the kitchen where I was filling the dishwasher with dirty plates.
“Make sure everything is in from the yard,” she said. “Check the barbecue gas is disconnected. Put everything you can in the dishwasher and wash the rest. Leftovers go in the friedge and trash outside. Then clean and tidy up. Whilst you do all this, I am going to have a long hot bath and then watch TV. When you have finished you can have a bath too. After that, please go to the bedroom and wait.”
A little over ninety minutes later, I heard Aimee coming upstairs, and moments later she entered the bedroom where I sat on the bed waiting. She was naked and, in her hand, she held her favourite cane. It was a yard-long Kooboo cane about the thickness of my little finger. She called it “Mr Whippy.” I saw her look across at my groin and erect penis, rock hard in anticipation of the flogging I was about to experience.
She walked over towards the bed, looked down at me, and smiled.
“You won’t be hard after eighteen good strokes of Mr Whippy across your bum, but I have a better idea. First, you’re going to fuck me, and then I’m going to cane you. The promise of your pain appears to be an aphrodisiac for both of us, fucking makes me want to hit you harder, and after sex, you’ll feel the cane more keenly. Win-win I’d say.”
***
I knew what Aimee wanted. She was never much for gentle lovemaking and at a time like this she wanted me to fuck her brains out before she bent me over and applied the cane. Her next words confirmed this.
“I don’t need any foreplay; I’m as horny as hell. Just put it in me. Now turn the armchair around and pull it over in the front of the mirror.”
Stood against the wall there was a tall three-door mirrored wardrobe and I placed the armchair facing against it. I understand her purpose. Anybody bent over it, would have a perfect view of what was happening behind them. No sooner was it in position than Aimee stepped towards it, bent over, gripped the top of the back, and spread her legs.
In front of me lay her huge round arse accentuated by her narrow waist. Her strong muscle thighs framed her hairless fleshy labia already wet with her secretions. Beyond her, in the mirror. I saw her face looking expected back at me.
I stood behind her and held the nob-end of my rock-hard dick between her swollen cunt lips and pushed and slowly slip inside of her. Her wet cunt gripped me tightly as I started to move myself in and out. In front of me, she was peering at me, eyes wide and the tip of her tongue pointing out between her lips.
“Now fuck me hard, you bastard. Fuck me like an animal.”
I did. I pounded her, driving myself deep inside of her, and as my balls slapped violently against her butt, she continued to talk. At first, she was conversational.
“Yes, like that. Like that. That’s good, oh so good.”
But as her pleasure grow her voice became more trial.
“Oh fuck, Oh fuck, You’re so deep, so deep.
Fuck my cunt. Fuck my cunt.
I want to come. I want to come.
Fuck me hard, you bastard. Fuck me hard.
Ohhhhh, I want it, Ohhhhhh, I need it. I need it! I NEED IT SO FUCKING MUCH!!!”
Then she reached down between her legs and screamed.Her eyes rolled, her mouth was open wide, her entire body seemed to shake, and I felt her cunt muscles tighten around my prick.
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
I didn’t stop. I continued to move, piston-like, in and out, and Aimee’s orgasm rolled on and on.
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Until finally she could take no more.
“Stop! she gasped. Stop! Give me a breather. I can’t take any more.”
She could of course. Five minutes later, she lay with her bum over the back of the chair, and I watched her cunt lips pumper as my dick moved frantically in and out and the armchair moved against the wardrobe. Now she encouraged me by reminding me of what to expect.
“I’ll teach you what happens to liars. I’m going to show you how I deal with rude cuns. I’m going to lay my cane across your arse and make you squeal.”
Seconds later we came together. As my penis violently pulsed and pumped my seed inside of her, she jerked and quivered and finally lay still, Then, I fell across her, sticky with the sweat of my exertion.
******
A little later, we stood facing one another. My stromach was churning when Aimee spoke.
“I’ve enjoyed my time spent bent over the armchair this evening. Now I plan to enjoy some time with you lying in the same position. I promise you; you will not like it. Now, bend over with your feet apart and place your hands flat on the arms. You know the rules by now, but I will repeat them. Lift a hand or a foot and you will receive a penalty stroke. Plead, abuse, or argue with me and you will receive a penalty stroke. Tonight, you don’t need to count, and you can swear and shout as much as you like. I expect you to. Don’t get up until I tell you the punishment is over. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Aimee.”
I did as I was told. In the mirror before me, I could see my reflection and Aimee standing to my right with the cane in her left hand. I would not dare to tell her this, but she has harsh and sharp facialfeatures, and that evening, in her need to punish me, I saw only cruelty in her eyes. Aimee is tall, five-ten in stockings, with big round floppy tits, a large bum, and well-muscled athletic limbs. She knows how to use a tennis racket, golf club, or a cane.
“OK, Christopher,” she said. “I’ve decided to give you eighteen strokes. Twelve would be far too few and twenty-four just slightly too many. Understand this. I’m punishing you for being a liar and being rude not because you fancy Thoa. You deserve this and It’s going to hurt. Remember, don’t ask for leniency because I am not in the fucking mood to give any. You’ll find none here and earn yourself another stroke for doing it. Now, are you ready?”
“Yes, Aimee.”
“Very well.”
In the mirror, I saw her move to my right, stand with her legs apart, and measure the cane across my bum cheeses and I was aware of it gently tapping against my skin. Her nipples were erect, and I could see my cum still oozing out between herDepilated cunt lips. Then, as I watched, her eyes narrowed, her mouth opened, and she struck. The cane swept behind her back and then down and forward. I heard it whistle and crack as Aimee swivelled at the hips, tits swinging, flicked her wrist, and expertly drove the tip deep into my flesh.
I felt the impact, and then fractions of a second later an atrocious band of white-hot burning pain spread across my nates. As the pain blossomed and peaked, I held my hands and feet firmly anchored flat and tried to prepare myself for the second stroke. I had not been asked to count so tried to stay quiet.
The second stroke arrived soon after the first and I remained silent no longer. The previous stroke had been a ‘sighter” but now she had her aim, and the second stroke was truly vicious, the cane whooping as it moved first away and then forward again to bite deeply into my posterior. The pain was dreadful, and I must have made a noise because as I forced myself not to move out of position and my bottom wriggled, I heard Aimee’s mocking voice.
“Oh, dear. We’ve barely started and you’re complaining already. There’s worse to come… Far worse.”
That was when I heard the cane sing and crack again, and a fresh band of fire erupted across my cheeks. This time I heard myself groan in anguish.
Now, Aimee got into a rhythm. The cane rose and fall. She gave me Just enough time for the pain to peak before delivering some more. She didn’t speak, the only sounds were the whooping of the cane, the crack of its impact against bum flesh, her grunts of exercise, and my increasing trial wailing.
All the time, my pain grow, until there was nothing in my world but my flashed buttocks, the cane, and the ever-increasing abnormal it was causing me.
Suddenly she stopped, turned placed the cane, on the bed, stood with her legs apart and looked down at my behind. She appeared to be examining her handiwork. I was so relieved; my punishment was finished…Orso I thought. Then I heard her speak!
“That’s a dozen. We’d be two-thirds of the way through if you hadn’t lifted a hand once and a foot twice. That’s three penalty strokes.”
“Please no,” I pleaded.
“That’s one more you’ve earned yourself. Ten more to go.”
She paused, but I had the sense to remain silent.
“You’ve got nothing to says. That’s good. You’re learning. Now we’ll rest a while before we go on. You’re to say nothing more until you feel the cane again…When you do, I promise it will have been worth the wait.”
As I watched her reflection in the mirror, her arousal was obvious. Her sex glinted, her nipples were stiff, her face and upper chest were red and flushed, and her lips moist. Even so, what she did next Surprised me. She crossed to the bed, picked up her wireless wand and returned to where she stood behind me. Then, legs spread, she switched it on and held the ball against herself.
As it gently hummed, she lowered herself against itand held one breast in her hand. Her eyes remained fixed upon my sore burning buttocks, and her lips parted as she held the wand against her slit. As her pleasure grow, I saw her bend forward and grind herself against the vibrator before her thighs quivered, her body jerked, and with her mouth wide open, she groaned long and loud and took her orgasm.
She wasn’t finished but tossed the wand onto the bed and pushed Two fingers of one hand inside her snatch before reaching down with the other and starting to rub. Then she started to talk.
“Now, I’m really in the mood to hurt you. If you thought the first dozen strokes were painful, just wait until you feel what’s coming next.”
“Oh, how I want to make you suffer.”
“I’m really going to lay it on hard.”
“You’ll not sit for a week when I’ve finished with you.”
These were just some of the things that she said to me as she rubbed herself off to at least another three loud orgasms. My cock was hard when she picked up the cane and took up her position again and I felt the cane rest gently on my bum.
As she took fresh aim, there was no goal on her face, just a look of concentration. I saw her briefly smile before she struck. In one lazy fluid movement, she swung the cane behind her back then brought it forward across my bottom, rotating her hips, transferring her weight to her leading foot, and flicking her wrist just before impact. The cane whistled and cracked against my tortured flesh. The stroke was devastating, and I wailed.
“One,” said Aimee. “Hold still. You’ll spoil my aim.”
The second stroke was a perfect duplicate of the first. Aimee overlayed it exactly where she’d placed the first and it took all my willpower not to move. Instead, I found myself rotating my bum in circles in a vain attempt to alleviate my pain.
“Two,” said Aimee. “Hold fucking still.”
“I can’t” I wailed in protest.
“Now we’ll have to repeat the stroke,” I heard her say,
She waited until my bum was still before she delivered the next stroke and gave me cause to start to understand and wriggle again.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh!”
“That’s two,” she said.
After that. The next six strokes were delivered with the same pitiless intent, and by the time Aimee had delivered them, I was blubbering and crying.
“Two to go. These will be very special. Lie higher over the armchair with your head near the seat and your feet in the air. No penalty strokes for not holding on.”
In this position, I could not see her in the mirror but waited, dreading what I knew was coming.
The cane rested on my bum cheats. She took it away and then placed it back again and I knew that she was toying with me. I heard the whoop and crack and then the rod impacted just where the thigh and bum meet in the hidden cream where the skin is most sensitive. I yelled out loud.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh Fuuuuuccccck!”
She didn’t wait but delivered the last stroke just seconds later. She expertly drove the cane against the same spot. It felt as if a white-hot knife had carved into my flesh, and I know I jerked and compromised and kicked my legs.
“Ohhhhhhhhh Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Fuuuuuuccccccck!!!”
***
My punishment was over, and I lay on my belly on the bed. As always, after a caning, despite the aching in my buttocks, the deep ridges, and the bruising I felt a sense of deep contentment and wellbeing. Aimee sat with me and gently ribbed arnica cream into my sore and swollen behind.
“Did I hurt you very much?” she asked, almost sympathetically.
“Oh, Yes”
“Good. I’m not sorry. It was necessary. Now rest, it’s Sunday tomorrow and we can lie in.”
I watched her pad across to the light switch by the door and Then the room became dark. Seconds later I felt the mattress move and heard her get into bed beside me. I started to doze off when I was woken by a single fingerprintnail that was gently tracing the furrows on my backside. Only then didI heard the soft buzzing of the wand and Aimee’s gentle sight.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
***
Thao
September
It was not until the following Friday evening, a week after I coulded Bill and fucked Christopher, that I was able to talk to Aimee as I had promised. Christopher was working late so Aimee and I were alone in my kitchen, She had just come off nights, and had only got up an hour earlier, at around five o’clock, and I was fixing her a late breakfast and myself an early supplier. Steak, beans, and eggs seemed an appropriate choice and I was busy at the stove while she sat at the table cuddling a cup of coffee.
Leave a Reply