A Strict Seduction (22 page)

I turned and lifted the back of my dress, letting her see the skimpy white briefs I was wearing.

‘Take your knickers off,' she ordered, ‘I want to see how well you've been chastised.'

I obeyed and slipped off the white panties. The cool air touched my burning backside, which was red with her finger marks, a fact I had verified with a quick look in the mirror.

‘Good,' she said, smiling. ‘You look like you've had a thorough spanking. Delia is going to like that.'

‘Delia?'

‘She's on her way,' Jan reported, a malicious grin on her face. She was enjoying herself, her blue eyes wide with delight and her smile one of pure, wicked pleasure.

My world was falling apart. Not only was I being punished, and somehow finding a perverse pleasure in it, but now my punishment was going to become common knowledge. My mind raced with all the possibilities: Delia telling everyone at the office, the story spreading like wildfire until Chris heard about it…

‘Please, Jan, anything but that,' I whispered, my vision blurred by the tears welling in my eyes. How could she be so cruel?

‘It's for your own good,' Jan told me, her voice suddenly losing its harsh tone, and sounding almost tender.

‘Please, can you just spank me and forget about anything else?'

‘No, this is for your own good, young lady,' she said.

I looked at her, breasts almost completely exposed by her thin robe, bare thighs that did strange things to my imagination. She stood up and walked towards me, her robe falling open.

Her kiss was electric, and I felt as though she were passion itself. I let her kiss me on the lips, let her stroke my stinging buttocks, let her caress my nipples through the thin cotton of my dress. I would have done anything for her, anything at all. I longed to touch her back, to feel her thighs and breasts, to taste her flesh, but I resisted the temptation and held back.

‘Be a good girl now,' she whispered.

In a daze I set to work, only vaguely aware that I was naked under the thin dress. She touched and caressed me every time she passed, keeping me hot and excited.

I called and arranged for someone to repair the coffee table.

I did the household chores.

I followed her around like a puppy.

Each time I spied myself in a mirror I saw confusion mixed with sexual arousal. What was Jan doing to me?

The carpet was slightly stained after my accident with the wine the previous evening, and so I got down on hands and knees with carpet cleaner and began to scrub it. I must have been working hard, really putting all my energy and attention into it, because I didn't hear the doorbell. The first inkling I had that someone else had arrived was when I heard voices at the door of the front room. With a sickening feeling in my stomach I slowly turned and looked up. My short dress had ridden up at the back, exposing the full length of my thighs and my naked backside, the buttocks nice and round as I was on all fours.

‘I see she's been a bad girl already,' the new arrival remarked, an amused smile on her face. Her eyes were focused on my behind, pretty blue eyes that looked as though they too could become stern and cruel if required. She was tall and blonde, her hair much fairer than Jan's, and dressed in a very tight, very short skirt and a tight blouse that was low-cut enough to reveal the slopes of her firm breasts.

‘Delia, this is Susan, Chris's wife,' Jan explained, not batting an eyelid at my obvious embarrassment. ‘And Susan, this is Delia, whom you've heard all about.'

I stood up quickly, brushing down my short dress and wishing the world would open and swallow me whole. Her smile grew broader; she was enjoying my distress in much the same way that Jan did.

‘Hi, I never expected to meet you in this sort of situation,' Delia giggled.

‘No, neither did I,' I managed to say, mumbling like a naughty child caught in the act. Would she tell everyone about what she'd seen? The thought was uppermost in my mind. I was terrified Chris would find out.

‘Some coffee, please, Susan,' Jan ordered, taking a seat. She had dressed for the day, a long skirt with a split at the side that fell open when she sat.

I hesitated; why was I the one to make the coffee? But I nodded mutely and made for the kitchen, feeling glad to be away from Delia and at the same time annoyed that I was being spoken to like a minion. I slammed a couple of coffee cups on a tray, milk and sugar, and waited for the coffee to filter through the machine. The laughter I heard from the other room got to me, like a stab wound in the belly.

They were chatting quietly when I came into the room, conspirators that fell silent when I entered. The tension was electric, I was certain they'd been talking about me. Delia was sitting on one of the armchairs and I walked towards her first, offering her the tray. She smiled and took one of the cups of coffee, and then added some milk. As I turned away her hand stroked up my thigh and towards my pussy, still moist with barely suppressed excitement. I had been taken by surprise, shocked that Delia should touch me in that way. I yelped and turned quickly, spilling coffee from the second cup into the tray.

‘Why did you do that!' I demanded angrily. The brown lake on the tray swirled around but thankfully did not leak onto the carpet. I was livid, at that moment all I could think about was my injured pride.

‘Do what, exactly?' Delia retorted, looking innocently at Jan as though she had no idea what I was talking about.

‘She touched me!' I explained to Jan, my voice rising with frustration. ‘She put her hand up my dress and touched me!'

‘You're lying! I did no such thing!' Delia insisted, adopting an injured tone of voice.

‘Enough of this, both of you!' Jan cried, her shrill voice bringing us both to silence.

I looked sulkily at Delia, my eyes narrowed accusingly. She had touched me, the bitch, and now she was trying to get me into trouble. I had imagined her to be a silly little flirt, but never such an out and out schemer. She was trying to make me look bad so that she could worm her way further into Jan's good books.

‘I brought the two of you together in the hope that you'd be friends,' Jan explained. ‘But it seems to me that both of you would rather be at each other's throat.'

‘That's not true,' Delia interjected, pouting her rouged lips so that they were prominent and glossy. Her skin was milky white, and the red lipstick made her mouth look rosy and kissable. I could understand why the men were all in love with her.

‘It's your fault,' I said quietly, looking first at her and then at Jan.

‘I won't have this bickering in my house,' Jan declared. ‘Do I really have to punish you both before you learn to behave?'

‘But I didn't do
anything
!' I repeated, exasperated.

‘Neither did I,' Delia chimed in on cue.

‘That does it!' Jan decreed. She stood up, her blue eyes blazing. ‘I think both of you need to be taught a lesson.'

‘In front of
her
?' Delia asked, her smile disappearing at last. The horror in her eyes matched my own, her sense of superiority evaporating instantly.

‘Yes, in front of her,' Jan told her. ‘Now, both of you, to my room.'

I could have refused, I could have simply turned around and walked out of the door, but I didn't. With pounding heart and excitement in my veins, I put down the coffee tray and walked to the door. Delia had fallen silent too, she was biting her lower lip nervously. She followed me up the stairs and I was aware that she could see right up my short flared dress, which flapped gently as I walked.

Jan followed the two of us into her bedroom, her silence making me feel even more nervous. I couldn't help wondering what she had planned for us. Whatever it was it had to be painful, I knew that much. She walked to her wardrobe and opened the door slowly, put her hand inside for a second, and then closed the door again. I inhaled sharply, frightened by what she had retrieved.

‘Please, Jan,' Delia whispered, voicing my own feelings, ‘not the cane. We'll be good, we promise.'

‘You should have thought of that earlier,' was all Jan said, flexing the long yellow bamboo cane in her hands. Her eyes were cold; her anger had gone, but was now replaced with a cool determination to extract punishment.

‘But it wasn't my fault…' I whispered.

‘Both of you, I want you on the bed on hands and knees. Quickly now!'

We scrambled onto the bed, on all fours side by side, our bottoms raised high. My short dress did nothing to cover my behind, but Delia's was well hidden by her tight skirt.

‘Skirts up, both of you, I want to see your pretty little backsides good and proper,' Jan told us.

I flipped the hem of mine over my waist, and as I did so I caught sight of Delia struggling with hers. A curt nod from Jan and I understood. I reached round and helped tug up Delia's tight black skirt. Underneath she was wearing pretty lace knickers that were pulled tightly between her round bottom cheeks. I needed no bidding. I hooked my fingers into her panties and pulled them down quickly. Her skin was hot to the touch, as though her body was responding to the anticipation of the cane.

‘Good, I should think six strokes each will be enough for now,' Jan informed us.

‘Please…' Delia whimpered, one last entreaty on her lips as Jan raised the cane.

I screamed, my voice filling the room and drowning out the whack of the cane which landed so forcefully on my behind. I hadn't been expecting the first stroke and the agony was unbearable. I sucked air into my lungs, hoping to breathe away the intense white heat of pain. The stripe felt like fire across my bottom cheeks. I could feel it raised against the whiteness of my flesh.

Delia cried out too, wincing and shaking as the cane swished down onto her beautifully naked behind. She arched and cried, gritting her teeth. I sneaked a look back, and saw the redness flared across her firm buttocks. Side by side, the two of us arched, naked posteriors striped red with one stroke each. I winced when Jan touched me, her long fingers exploring the single track across my behind.

The second stroke was no better then the first. I burned in agony, my bottom quivering as the redness spread across my skin. The white flash of impact turned into the intense redness that somehow seeped into the rest of my body. I cringed instinctively when the cane came down on poor Delia's backside.

A third and then a fourth stroke, Delia and me in turn. It hurt so much, more than a hand spanking, more than the slipper, even more than the belt. Yet still the fire seemed to become one with the sexual heat that ignited in my pussy. I felt excited, the pleasure incomprehensible to me, but real all the same.

‘Now, girls,' Jan directed, pausing to admire our punished backsides, ‘I want you to kiss and make up.'

I turned, my face next to Delia's, our eyes gazing into each other's. My mouth trembled open as the cane whistled down to strike my poor bottom. My cry was sucked into Delia's mouth, her lips crushing mine in a long, slow kiss. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, searching, exploring, exciting. She cried as the cane fell on her too, and I felt the exhalation of her breath as I kissed the agony away.

Like lovers we kissed with passion, as the cane stroked and burned, slicing into our chastised flesh. The excitement was unbelievable; I felt myself on the edge, enjoying the pain as it broke across my skin and was expressed in Delia's sexy, welcoming lips. I climaxed suddenly, the cane striking me for the last time as Delia kissed me lovingly. A moment later Delia shivered her orgasm as I kissed her, just as she suffered the last stroke of the cane too.

‘Now,' Jan informed us coolly, ‘I'll expect better behaviour from the two of you for the rest of the day.'

‘Yes, Jan,' the two of us mumbled, still dazed by the mutual orgasm we had enjoyed as we were being punished.

‘Good. Now, I think it's time you girls showed your appreciation,' Jan said, smiling wickedly. ‘I think you ought to kiss me your thanks.'

‘Mmm, yes please,' Delia murmured. She sat up and turned to face Jan. From where I lay I was treated to a gorgeous view of her bottom, latticed with thin red stripes that marked her skin so deeply. As she kissed her, Jan began to fondle the cane marks, making Delia squirm excitedly. I lay back, breathing hard. My bottom ached and stung, and yet I still felt excitement and desire. Lazily I reached out and touched Delia's sex. She was wet, her body oozing the essence of her desire.

What would the rest of the day be like? And the next day, my last day with Jan before our husbands returned home? I sighed, my mind filled with images I would not even have dared to imagine only a day earlier.

Staying Over – Part 3

How could any of it make sense to me? Not only had I been spanked and seduced by Jan, the stern and beautiful wife of my husband's employer, but my punishments had been witnessed by Delia, the young and pretty secretary of whom I had been so jealous. My mind was in turmoil as I lay in bed and thought of all that had passed in the last two days…

It had begun so innocently. Our husbands were away for the weekend and I had agreed to spend the time with Jan, whom I admired so much, even though I'd secretly been slightly afraid of her. She was always so elegant, so clever and so beautiful, and yet not once did I suspect what lay beneath her stylish good manners and calm reassurance. Things had been going so well and then, in a moment I still could not comprehend, I had caused an accident and found myself across Jan's lap with my knickers around my ankles while she smacked me like a spoilt child.

The memory of that first spanking caused butterflies of excitement and desire in the pit of my belly. Why did I feel so excited by what was surely the most humiliating moment of my life? I could not explain it, but nor could I deny the fires that burned deep inside me and which caused my nipples to harden and the moisture to gather between my thighs. As I lay in bed listening to the soft ticking of the clock I couldn't help but stroke the tips of my breasts, causing pulses of pleasure to ripple through my body.

What was happening to me? I longed for Jan to walk into the room and bark an order before turning me over to punish me yet again. The memory of her mouth on mine was divine, her perfumed lips sucking the breath from my body and with it the will to resist. She had spanked me with her hand and a slipper. How good it had been. The memories added to my excitement and I felt my body responding.

The slipper had not been the worst, however; when Delia arrived, much to my shame, things had become even more difficult. I was burning with shame that silly young Delia should find me on all fours, my backside exposed as I cleaned up after the mess I had made the previous evening. I was annoyed as well as embarrassed, as it was bad enough being punished by Jan without having someone else along to enjoy it. My distress was obviously amusing to Delia, which only made me madder. It was definitely a case of hate at first sight. As soon as we set eyes on each other it was clear that Delia and I would not get along.

The end result was that both of us were soundly punished, in front of each other, by Jan. The cane was far worse than the slipper or Jan's firm hand. It had cut deep into our flesh, making us yelp and cry as she taught us the strictest lesson yet. But from that pain, that constant stroking of deep red lines across our backsides, there had come pleasure. Delia's mouth had found mine and we shared passionate kisses as we were soundly thrashed with the bamboo cane.

I turned over, unable to sleep, distracted by the constant going over of all that had happened. My body ached with excitement, my nipples pressing hard against the thin cotton T-shirt I was wearing. The clock beside the bed blinked back at me, the luminous dial telling me it was only just gone two in the morning. It was no good, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, no matter what. Sitting up in bed, my thin cotton panties pressed deep into the moistness of my sex, making me squirm with a momentary spasm of pleasure.

What should I do next? Jan was asleep in her own room, I was in the spare bedroom, and Delia had been consigned to sleeping on the fold-out bed in Peter's study. I had been secretly disappointed with the sleeping arrangements, after the punishments and seduction I had half hoped that Jan would let me spend the night in her arms, her naked body against my own. Making love to another woman had never even been a fantasy of mine, I was happy with my husband Chris, but now my feelings were haywire and I longed for Jan to kiss me again.

A midnight snack was not something I normally went for, but suddenly it seemed like an excellent idea. Perhaps it was the thought of getting out of my room and of having something else to think about apart from my confusing thoughts and desires. A glass of warm milk might even help me get to sleep, I reasoned, tiptoeing downstairs quietly.

The house was shrouded in darkness, the silence a blanket of serenity that I did not want to disturb. I made it down the stairs with hardly a creak of the floorboards, and then went straight into the kitchen, careful not to make any noise lest I wake Delia, asleep in the room across the hall from the kitchen.

The light from the fridge cast a diagonal of pale white across the room. Carefully I set to work, deciding that a sandwich would go well with a glass of milk. The bluish light from the cooker added a warm glow to the room as I set a small pan of cold milk to warm up. After a while I was so caught up in what I was doing that I completely forgot about the worries that had been keeping me awake.

‘Have you got enough there for two?' Delia asked, startling me.

I turned quickly and clutched at my chest. ‘You've frightened the life out of me,' I complained.

She giggled. ‘Don't worry, Susan,' she said, ‘I won't tell Jan, if that's what you're worried about.'

I studied her for a moment and realised she was genuinely trying to be friendly. She was wearing bra and panties only, pretty black lace that contrasted with the whiteness of her soft skin and the crystal blue of her eyes.

‘It's only hot milk, I'm afraid,' I explained, pointing to the cooker. ‘Do you want some too?'

‘Okay,' she nodded. ‘You couldn't sleep then?'

‘No,' I sighed, ‘I just couldn't.'

‘This is your first time, isn't it?'

I knew what she was talking about, there was no need for her to say more. ‘You won't tell anyone, will you?' I whispered, averting my eyes from hers. With what she had seen and experienced at my side, she was in a position to make my life a misery, and we both knew it. Chris would be shocked if he found out about what had happened, of that I was absolutely certain.

‘But you do like it though, don't you?' Delia asked, her eyes blazing wickedly.

I said nothing, but my silence was testament enough to my confusion. She was so young, and yet it was obvious that it was not her first time. I wondered how long it had been going on, how long she had been going over Jan's knee to receive her punishments.

‘Why don't you leave that,' Delia suggested, taking the milk bottle from my hands as I hurried to make her a drink too.

‘What are you doing?' I asked, allowing myself to be pushed against the kitchen wall. Her face was close to mine, her eyes sparkling with delight as I struggled with my feelings. I was aware of her fragrance, her near naked body scented with perfume, her breasts pressed against mine as she held my hands at my sides.

‘Isn't it obvious what I'm doing?' she whispered, her breath warm against my face. Her lips touched mine, tentative, soft, inviting.

‘No! I don't want to do this!' I cried, rebelling against the desire surging through my body. I pushed her away, frightened I would succumb to her embrace and meet her kiss with an open hunger that I could not deny.

‘Stop it! You know you want this!' she snapped, slapping me across the face, the sound echoing to silence as I clutched my cheek in shock. I could feel the red blush across my skin, the imprint of her fingers across my face. Tears welled in my eyes as the force of confusion and shame came over me like a tidal wave of emotion.

Delia kissed me, and this time I could not resist. My face ran with bitter tears but my mouth was open to her tongue. The ache between my thighs was unbearable, my panties were wet with honey from my pussy, and my nipples were hard points of flesh that longed for Delia's touch. I moaned softly as she slipped her hand under my long T-shirt and began to stroke the inside of my thigh, her fingers pressing forcefully against the softly sensitive flesh.

The darkness was suddenly banished and the kitchen was flooded with the harsh electric glare of the lights. I looked up, through the tears, and saw Jan standing by the door, her hand still on the light switch. I pushed Delia away and ran across the room, sobbing like a child towards Jan. The resounding slap across the face was the last thing I expected and only caused another burst of tears and more sobs from me. Why were they being so nasty? Why?

‘So, this is where you've decided to play your squalid little game,' Jan stated coldly, her voice filled with anger and disgust. I shrank away from her, frightened by the hard slap and the threat in her voice. She was glaring at us, dressed in a pretty pink robe that barely covered her long thighs and which was thin enough for the dark discs of her nipples to be discernible. With both hands on hips and the austere look on her face she looked every inch the disciplinarian she had shown herself to be.

‘It wasn't like that…' Delia started to explain, but I could tell that she too was afraid of Jan's temper. The self-confidence with which she had attempted to seduce me had all but evaporated. Now she slunk against the wall, her eyes averted while she waited for Jan's reaction.

‘I only came down for a glass of milk…' I said, pointing to the full pan on the kitchen table.

‘Is that why I found you in Delia's arms? Does that explain why Delia is half naked? Does it?' Jan demanded, advancing menacingly into the room. I cringed, my stomach turning as I realised where things were going.

‘It was her idea!' Delia blurted, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. She was smirking, her pouting lips parted sexily and her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

‘That's not true! You've got to believe me, Jan, that isn't true,' I cried, trying desperately to defend myself even though I was shocked by the accusation. I remembered how Delia had touched me the first time we met, and how she had taken great delight in getting me into trouble. Now she was doing it again.

‘Quiet, both of you,' Jan hissed, cutting off my protestations instantly. Her heeled slippers clicked coldly on the tiles of the kitchen floor as she came towards me. My eyes were fixed on her body, focused on the tightly bound robe that showed the fullness of her breasts and the bulge of her nipples against the satin material. ‘Now,' she continued, stopping in front of me, ‘who was it that came down here first?'

‘I did,' I admitted, not daring to explain why. My eyes were full of tears again, but now there was also a feeling of desire inside me, a feeling of desire mixed with a real fear of what Jan was going to do.

‘I'm glad you admit it,' she told me. She turned on her heels and marched across the room to Delia, still leaning against the wall, her arms crossed insolently across her chest. The smile disappeared from her face and I sensed that she too feared Jan, despite the bravado with which she had flung her accusations.

‘It was her idea. She said she wanted to play games…' Delia insisted, though her voice quavered as she spoke.

‘I find that difficult to believe,' Jan said, ‘but I suspect she was not an unwilling victim of whatever it was you had planned for her.'

‘She tried to force herself on me,' I complained, my heart filled with relief that Delia's plans had been found out. The prospect of an unjust spanking suddenly receded, and I felt nothing but relief and pleasure that Delia was going to be punished for her sins.

‘Susan, do you know where I keep the cooking things?' Jan asked, fixing Delia with a look that could melt an iceberg.

‘In the drawer?'

‘Then you know what to get me,' Jan said. I watched her grab Delia by the arm and pull her roughly across the room to the heavy mahogany table which dominated the kitchen.

Jan was right, I had guessed what it was that she wanted. Without hesitation I went to the drawer where she kept the cutlery and cooking utensils. There was quite a choice, but I selected the two items I hoped might make the most impression: a flat wooden spatula and an old fashioned wooden spoon. When I turned round Delia was bent across the edge of the table, her breasts squashed flat against the cool polished surface and her bottom offered high. Her black skimpy panties were pressed deep between her thighs, the thin black band of lace parting her bottom cheeks temptingly.

‘Is this what you want?' I asked, handing Jan the spatula and the wooden spoon. She smiled slightly, her lips looking glossy and enticing, a tempting reminder of the pleasure I had experienced with her the previous day.

I stepped back a bit, anxious to enjoy every second of Delia's punishment. Her ankles were pressed together, her long legs in parallel so that her backside was nice and round and displayed perfectly, the thin wisps of lace barely covering her bottom cheeks and turning into a thin triangle of material against the bulge of her sex.

Her face was pressed flat against the table, she was biting her lower lip, and her eyes looked at me appealingly. I smiled back, feeling an unfamiliar thrill of excitement at the prospect of watching another woman being spanked.

‘Why is it I always have to discipline you whenever you visit?' Jan demanded coldly. ‘It's not enough that you were caned earlier, now I have to punish you again. You've gone too far this time.'

‘I'm sorry, it won't happen again…' Delia whimpered pathetically. ‘I promise.'

I watched, wide-eyed and excited, as Jan raised the wooden spoon and then brought it down swiftly. A resounding smack filled the room, followed by a sharp yelp of pain from Delia. The red imprint of the spoon was clearly marked on her right buttock, the redness in stark contrast to the pale tones of her flesh. Such a small mark, an oval redness that probably stung unbearably. Before Delia had a chance to complain the spoon came down again, adding a second mark to her right bottom cheek.