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The consequences of the letter to her parents

When Kate got home, she was obviously very worried. Mummy talked sensibly to her after reading the letter. She explained about reputations, and getting the wrong things said about her. She said she deserved her punishment and it served her right. She also tried to assure her daughter that she would try to keep her father calm when he heard of her exploits.

On his arrival she heard him explode…”She did what?! Bloody hell!”

Then there was talking and he came in with his leather soled slipper gripped in his hand. She passed the letter to him nervously

She had always been his blue-eyed girl, and, when he saw her shaking hand, his temper cooled a little.

“Look, what you have done was silly, rude and extremely naughty. Everyone will know, and Mummy will find it hard to look her friends in the eye. However, I know you have paid for it well, Mummy says that Mr Jones has done one of his renowned jobs on your naughty bottom. So, it is supper in your bedroom and no television for the rest of the week.” said Kate’s father.

Kate felt relieved. She had thought that another spanking on her already very sore bottom was in the offing. She muttered, “I’m very sorry Dad.”

However, as she started walking towards the door to go to her bedroom, her father interrupted her departure.

“Where do you think you are going young lady? Not so fast. Despite the fact that Mr. Jones has already given you a damn good hiding, I’m going to give you a spanking too. so get on that chair and bare your bottom!”

Crestfallen, Kate complied. She knew that there was no use in arguing with her father….a spanking at school always meant a spanking at home in this household.

Twenty good firm whacks later found her in her bedroom, tummy down, naked on the bed. Her towel was spread over her bottom with cold water soaked into it. Her bottom was welted and very sore, it would be a night for sleeping on her tummy, and probably breakfast stood at the breakfast bar.

Part 3

Kate has submissive dreams

Sleep slowly came over her, her mind full of thoughts about being punished, as she stroked her welts. Her fingers moved to her pussy…

As she arrived in ‘dreamland’, she was walking with Mr.Jones. Before them was an old building in the woods.

She walked in. It was damp and she could hear dripping water. He led her past some hanging chains with hooks to some stairs. She noticed that he had a lantern to light the way. He switched on a light which illuminated the bottom of the stairs, which they then descended.

There was a long corridor, with twists and turns, and other corridors at intervals leading into the darkness. She thought she heard moans from some. They arrived at a locked door. Mr Jones unlocked it and took her in.

“You are now one of my schoolgirl spanking slaves. I have come down here to punish you, not because of anything you have done, but because you are a dirty little bitch who likes to be punished. You are a real pain slut. That is what people say about you now. Even your Mummy and Daddy know what you are. They have given you to me.”

‘Yes, I am your dirty slut, your dirty little bitch. You can fuck me if you like.”

“Shhhhh. For now, just get on there, and bare your bottom. There’s a good slut.”

‘Yes Sir.’

Her dream went on and on. Day after day she waited, hungry for his cane. She heard him walk down the steps, swishing it. However, on some days his footsteps faded down another corridor, where she heard distant whacks, screams and groans of sordid pleasure. How she hated those other dirty bitches. She wanted to be his only dirty spanking bitch!

On some days, the steps would stop at her door. The key would insert into the lock, echoing, and after a clunk the door would open. With a black gown flowing over his tweed suit, his brogues clipping on the cobbled damp floor and his rattan cane swishing in the air, he would deal with her.

Every time he came, she found new ways for her bottom to greet him

Night after night she lay thinking of it, her hands working hard, one on her pussy, one smacking her bottom or scratching lines on it.

Night after painful night he came and thrashed her to orgasm.

He was right, she loved it, she needed it.

Then one night it was different. Why, you might ask. Well, you see it wasn’t her bottom that greeted him, it was her wet pussy…

”Fuck me Mr.Jones, then cane me long and hard!

He took out his throbbing manhood, and then with his cane in one hand and his glistening, pulsating, purple head in his other, he…she…he…she…she awoke to the best ever orgasm of her life…

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