mike_redbotham
16-11-2010, 10:46 AM
PUNISHMENT TO ORDER
It was a strange, cryptic, personal message to receive, even through the www.spankingcontacts.co.uk (http://www.spankingcontacts.co.uk/) site.
"Do you punish to order?"
My profile showed me to be a 66-year-old ‘uncle’ type spanker.
Intrigued, I replied;
"That could probably be arranged. Tell me more. You can contact me on Yahoo Messenger".
Almost immediately, I got a request to Add a Friend and the opening message was;
"Well, my husband has been a very bad boy and I want him punished."
"How do you mean?"
"A mate of my brother works with him and has said that he has been shagging a receptionist where they work."
"I see. Tell me a bit about your husband."
"He’s only been out of the Army for about 6 months and got this job with a builders’ firm. He’s 27".
Now, I was definitely interested.
"Does he know that you know what he’s been up to?"
"Oh, yes. He’s said it’s all over and he’s very sorry. He’s begging me to forgive him. But I’ve made him sleep on the sofa for the last couple of nights since I found out."
"Where do I come in?"
"I’ve told him that if he really loves me and wants my forgiveness he must accept whatever punishment I decide on."
"And he has agreed to that?"
"Oh yes. He knows it’s all over if he doesn’t."
"And does he know what you have in mind?"
"No. I’m making him sweat. He already knows he’s banned from going to the football for the next 4 weeks."
"And what do you have in mind?"
"I want him thoroughly humiliated and given corporal punishment. (That seems appropriate – he was a corporal in the Army. Lol.) But nothing too heavy, I don’t want him seriously hurt."
"Fair enough. I’m certainly not into anything heavy – but if I administer CP he will certainly know about it for a while. Would you want to be present?"
"Oh yes – that would be an important element of humiliation. By the way, do you charge a fee?"
"No. But if you want him to pay financially then I could charge him and donate it to the RBL Poppy Fund. Tell me how much."
(The RBL Poppy Fund is the Royal British Legion, which looks after ex-Servicemen and women.)
"That’s a good idea, very appropriate. £100?"
"Fine – I’ll mock up an Invoice! I assume that you will want this punishment inflicted ‘on the bare’?"
"If you mean naked, absolutely – he must be made to suffer. Do whatever you need to."
I won’t bore you with the practical arrangements. Suffice to say, I turned up at the given address in a nearby town the following Saturday afternoon, suitably equipped; my paddle, belt and martinet in a brief case. (How do you conceal a full size cane?)
It was a neat, modern, little, townhouse. I rang the doorbell.
A very attractive, young, buxom, blonde girl answered the door.
‘Why would anyone want to cheat on her?’ I wondered.
"Sergeant Redbotham. I assume?" she said, "I’m Tracey", holding out her hand.
Never having been in the Forces (just too young to have done National Service), I was amused at the military title that I had been accorded. However, I remembered that her husband had been a corporal, one rank lower.
"Yes, Ma’am," I replied, shaking her hand.
"Come through, please."
I slipped my cane into the hallstand as she led me to the lounge where her husband was lounging on the sofa, watching TV.
"James, turn that off. This is Sergeant Redbotham. He has come to talk to you about our little problem," she announced, rather sarcastically, I thought.
James pressed the remote and sprang to his feet, a quizzical look on his handsome face.
He was dressed in a tight white T-shirt and camouflage fatigue trousers, bare footed. His broad shoulders and bulging biceps filled the shirt that clung to his classic V shaped torso and washboard stomach. Pyramidal peaks on his shapely abs promised mighty nipples.
The trousers, of course, were loose and tied around his wasp-like waist. Nevertheless they could not disguise the long legs with the hope of strong thighs and magnificent buttocks.
James was a good 6-foot tall and had short blond hair, clear blue eyes, chiselled looks a strong firm jaw line and a smooth, boyish complexion.
He was the very epitome of the British fighting man!
I was going to enjoy this.
"I hear you have been unfaithful, you ‘orrible little man!" I barked – I was a good 3" shorter than him but I was in charge.
"Yes, Sarge. Sorry, Sarge."
Only commissioned officers are called "Sir" in the British Armed Forces.
"That is not acceptable behaviour. Is it, soldier?"
"No, Sarge."
"There’s this beautiful little lady been waiting and pining for you whilst you were abroad. You get out of the Army and within 6 months you’re cheating on her."
Charmingly, he blushed, "I, I. I," he stammered.
"No excuses, boy." I cut him short. "I am here to show you the error of your ways. You know you’ve got to accept whatever punishment your wife decrees if you want to save your marriage?"
"Yes, Sarge", he said dubiously.
"Well, I’m here to give you a damn good old fashioned thrashing of a kind I guess your old man never gave you."
"What?" he looked horrified.
I plonked myself down on the sofa.
"You heard. Get your arse over my knee."
"You’ve got to be joking!"
"Do it, James," his wife intervened, "or pack your bags and get out!"
Still James hesitated.
"I mean it!" said Tracey. There was no doubt about that!
Reluctantly, James came to me and I guided him over my knee so his buttocks were nicely raised, still in his camouflages of course. They would soon come down! Luckily, he was already bare-footed.
With my left hand firmly on the small of his back, I brought my right hand sharply down on the centre of his buttocks. There was going to be no warming up. This elicited a satisfying grunt.
Now, I have spanked a few butts in my time but I have to tell you these buns were rock hard, even through the cloth of the camouflages. I landed another on the same spot, another grunt. James’s waist was narrow but I could tell his bottom was magnificent as I worked my way around it. He started squirming about but I held him firmly. Spank after spank rained down on James’s bum until my hand started to sting.
"Stand up, boy!"
I put my hand to pull the drawstring on his trousers. He grabbed my hand, "No way!"
"Let go, James," commanded Tracey, "Let him do what he must."
James obeyed but said, "I don’t like this."
"You’re not intended to," added Tracey. "I don’t like you cheating on me! But that didn’t stop you, did it?"
I pulled the drawstring and let the camouflages fall.
He was "going commando" (no underpants) and I gasped as his magnificent thighs were revealed, topped by a delicious and enormous, uncut penis and wonderful pendulous balls with a bush of fair pubic hairs. His long tree-trunk like thighs were covered with a down of fine blond hairs.
"Get back over," I ordered.
Resigned to his fate now, James resumed his place over my knee and, at last, I could see those wonderful buttocks in the flesh, perfect globes, as beautifully smooth as a baby’s. They were a delicate salmon pink. More work was needed to turn them pillar-box red. After pushing his T-shirt up his back I set to work.
My first slap across the centre of those lovely buns as hard as I could.
"Ouch!"
A response, so I repeated it, again and again.
I started working my way around his buttocks, mixing hard single slaps with rapid fire lighter ones.
I particularly liked the area around the creases where those magnificent mounds rose proudly from the backs of the wide strong thighs.
James was squirming like a good ‘un and his right leg slipped off my lap. That opened up his hairless crack, giving me a glimpse of his pretty pink anus. It also gave me access to the inside of the tops of his thighs. And I took full advantage and slapped them hard.
No matter how big and strong a young man is, that skin on the inner thighs is the most sensitive of all and James certainly felt the sting.
"Ow, stop it," he cried and tried to get up.
Although he was bigger and stronger than me, it’s not easy to get up from that position and I got my right leg over his so he couldn’t move.
I resumed my assault on his buttocks, which were now beginning to colour up nicely. They had moved from salmon pink to brick red. Still a way to go.
"Trace, please! Tell him to stop," pleaded James. "I can’t take much more!"
"Don’t be a baby. You deserve it all….and more," was her merciless response.
I glanced up at Tracey, who was sitting opposite in an armchair. I had been concentrating on her husband and hadn’t noticed that she had taken her top off, exposing her luscious breasts with their huge erect nipples. She had one hand massaging them, the other down her shorts and was clearly enjoying the spectacle of her husband getting his just desserts. I suddenly had a wicked idea! But that was for later. For now, I still had a lovely bottom over my knee but my hand was stinging too.
Thoughtfully, I had put my brief case down within easy reach, near James’s feet. I pulled out my paddle and showed it to Tracey with a quizzical look. She smirked and nodded.
I brought it down with a tremendous CRACK across the centre of James’s butt cheeks.
"Yeeeeeeow. That fucking hurt!!!"
"Watch your language. You’re not in the Army now!" CRACK
"Ow!! I’m sorry, Sarge!" CRACK
"It’s not me you have to apologise to." CRACK
"Trace! I’m so, so sorry," with break in his voice.
"Carry on, Sergeant. I don’t believe him yet."
To my amazement, she had taken her shorts off and was playing with herself. Good job that James couldn’t see her.
CRACK!
In a classic move, James’s hand came up to try to protect his beleaguered bottom.
CRACK! CRACK!
The back of each muscular, but sensitive, thigh received a whack.
"Move that hand," I barked "or I will stay there."
Suddenly a big sigh and a huge shudder shook James’s body and it went limp.
James was undoubtedly a courageous young man, having served in Afghanistan. I’m sure that had he had the misfortune to be injured he would have been as stoical and brave as any of our wonderful soldiers but at that moment he was a naughty little boy sobbing over his daddy’s knee. Whether it was pain or shame, I know not.
"I’ve been such an idiot," he sobbed, "Trace, forgive me, please!"
"Just a bit more." Tracey was softening.
Two more CRACKS and we had, at last, reached that pillar-box red. I wanted to feel the heat in James’s bottom. I put the paddle down and resumed hand spanking. But this was different. Each slap ended in a caressing motion and I allowed my fingers to stray into his crack. I loved the feel of the hot, smooth, flawless flesh
A slap on the sit spot was followed by a massage of his perineum.
Just as I hoped, I began to feel a stirring against my leg. James was beginning to get an erection.
"Stand up, face me and take that shirt off." I didn’t want him to see what Tracey was doing, just yet.
His abs and pecs rippled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.
I was pleased to see that, unlike so many soldiers, his magnificent body had not been desecrated by the graffiti of the tattooist’s needle.
The promise of his nipples was fulfilled with erect points rising from the pretty pink aureoles. I would have loved to nibble them but it wouldn’t have been appropriate in this scenario. Besides, I had something much more interesting in mind.
And yes, his beautiful cock was standing to attention, pointing up to his navel, despite his red lined eyes and tear stained cheeks.
I put my hands on his naked shoulders and turned him, away from Tracey, to face a plain wall. He was utterly pliant by now. He was so humiliated that he didn’t want to look her in the eye. He had no idea that she was now completely naked.
"Hands on your head", I ordered.
Without a murmur be obeyed. What a sight! Those wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist atop those red-hot, hard melons supported by his wondrous thighs.
I slipped out to the hall and retrieved my cane. Returning, I laid a few hard hand-spanks on James’s now prominent buttocks – just to top up the heat. I then gave them some massage, squeezing and separating each one in turn.
I indicated to Tracey to go and lay on the sofa.
Checking that James still had his erection, I told him to turn round.
He was utterly shocked to see his young wife naked on the sofa but his, already hard, penis jerked.
"We can’t waste this, can we, Tracey?" as I slapped it.
"We certainly can’t. Get that sorry red backside over here, James", as she opened her arms and legs."
He needed no second bidding, "Oh, darling, I do so love you and will never hurt you again."
"Mount her!" I commanded.
Eagerly, James straddled her and as he guided his member towards her heavenly portal, his buttocks presented the perfect target!
His erection was not going to waste and neither was that target!
I brought my cane down hard across those still red buttocks.
"Ooooow!" With the shock and the pain, James’s buttocks clenched, driving his pelvis down and his penis ploughed deep into his young wife, who echoed his cry.
His buttocks relaxed and he lifted his hips.
WHACK! Another stroke across the backs of his thighs drove him back, deep into Tracey.
Each time James lifted his buttocks I met them with a stroke of the cane.
James was screaming with the stings and Tracey moaning and squealing with passion, their cries mingling.
The background pillar-box red of Jason’s bum was now highlighted with bright scarlet lines where the cane had left its mark.
As James’s rhythm built up I switched to the paddle – It’s not easy accurately to hit a moving target with a cane – rapidly beating his buttocks in time with his thrusting into Tracey.
It didn’t take long for a violent shudder to rack James’s body and Tracey screamed as they climaxed simultaneously.
One final hard CRACK with the paddle and James’s punishment was over.
He collapsed on top of her, hugging and kissing her.
"Darling, I’ve taken all I can. Please, please say you forgive me. I love you so much."
"Well, I guess you taking all that does prove something. So OK – but if it happens again you won’t get off so lightly."
"Lightly? That guy hits hard!"
"OK, you guys. You can get all lovey dovey after I’ve gone. Stand up now," I intervened.
They both stood up, completely naked but totally unselfconscious, facing me, holding hands, James rubbing his sore butt. His cock had half subsided and was still dripping.
I placed the cane under it and bounced it up and down.
I then pointed to Tracey’s bush,
"That is the only place you put this. Do you understand, boy?"
I brought the cane down on the top of James’s prick, not too hard, as he said "Understood, Sarge" and grimaced.
I gave the cane to Tracey, saying, "I really don’t think he will stray again. But he may well misbehave in other ways. He may appear to be a magnificent specimen of a young man in his prime but inside he’s just a naughty little boy who needs regular discipline. The Army can no longer do it so you must. Use this on him as often as he needs it – and don’t hang back – he can take it. You may find slippers and your hairbrush can be just as effective. If you need my services again, don’t hesitate to call me.
Tracey giggled, "We may have to. I can hardly cane him while he’s inside me, can I?"
"Yes, Sarge. That was awesome," as he held out his hand to shake mine, "Thank you."
I got ready to leave, then remembered and fished out the made-up invoice from my brief case and handed it to James.
"Oh yes, your bill for adultery. Cheque payable to the Royal British Legion."
************************************************** *********************************
Epilogue – 10 months later
Mr Redbotham, would you please be a Godfather to our month old son?
Tracey & James.
It was a strange, cryptic, personal message to receive, even through the www.spankingcontacts.co.uk (http://www.spankingcontacts.co.uk/) site.
"Do you punish to order?"
My profile showed me to be a 66-year-old ‘uncle’ type spanker.
Intrigued, I replied;
"That could probably be arranged. Tell me more. You can contact me on Yahoo Messenger".
Almost immediately, I got a request to Add a Friend and the opening message was;
"Well, my husband has been a very bad boy and I want him punished."
"How do you mean?"
"A mate of my brother works with him and has said that he has been shagging a receptionist where they work."
"I see. Tell me a bit about your husband."
"He’s only been out of the Army for about 6 months and got this job with a builders’ firm. He’s 27".
Now, I was definitely interested.
"Does he know that you know what he’s been up to?"
"Oh, yes. He’s said it’s all over and he’s very sorry. He’s begging me to forgive him. But I’ve made him sleep on the sofa for the last couple of nights since I found out."
"Where do I come in?"
"I’ve told him that if he really loves me and wants my forgiveness he must accept whatever punishment I decide on."
"And he has agreed to that?"
"Oh yes. He knows it’s all over if he doesn’t."
"And does he know what you have in mind?"
"No. I’m making him sweat. He already knows he’s banned from going to the football for the next 4 weeks."
"And what do you have in mind?"
"I want him thoroughly humiliated and given corporal punishment. (That seems appropriate – he was a corporal in the Army. Lol.) But nothing too heavy, I don’t want him seriously hurt."
"Fair enough. I’m certainly not into anything heavy – but if I administer CP he will certainly know about it for a while. Would you want to be present?"
"Oh yes – that would be an important element of humiliation. By the way, do you charge a fee?"
"No. But if you want him to pay financially then I could charge him and donate it to the RBL Poppy Fund. Tell me how much."
(The RBL Poppy Fund is the Royal British Legion, which looks after ex-Servicemen and women.)
"That’s a good idea, very appropriate. £100?"
"Fine – I’ll mock up an Invoice! I assume that you will want this punishment inflicted ‘on the bare’?"
"If you mean naked, absolutely – he must be made to suffer. Do whatever you need to."
I won’t bore you with the practical arrangements. Suffice to say, I turned up at the given address in a nearby town the following Saturday afternoon, suitably equipped; my paddle, belt and martinet in a brief case. (How do you conceal a full size cane?)
It was a neat, modern, little, townhouse. I rang the doorbell.
A very attractive, young, buxom, blonde girl answered the door.
‘Why would anyone want to cheat on her?’ I wondered.
"Sergeant Redbotham. I assume?" she said, "I’m Tracey", holding out her hand.
Never having been in the Forces (just too young to have done National Service), I was amused at the military title that I had been accorded. However, I remembered that her husband had been a corporal, one rank lower.
"Yes, Ma’am," I replied, shaking her hand.
"Come through, please."
I slipped my cane into the hallstand as she led me to the lounge where her husband was lounging on the sofa, watching TV.
"James, turn that off. This is Sergeant Redbotham. He has come to talk to you about our little problem," she announced, rather sarcastically, I thought.
James pressed the remote and sprang to his feet, a quizzical look on his handsome face.
He was dressed in a tight white T-shirt and camouflage fatigue trousers, bare footed. His broad shoulders and bulging biceps filled the shirt that clung to his classic V shaped torso and washboard stomach. Pyramidal peaks on his shapely abs promised mighty nipples.
The trousers, of course, were loose and tied around his wasp-like waist. Nevertheless they could not disguise the long legs with the hope of strong thighs and magnificent buttocks.
James was a good 6-foot tall and had short blond hair, clear blue eyes, chiselled looks a strong firm jaw line and a smooth, boyish complexion.
He was the very epitome of the British fighting man!
I was going to enjoy this.
"I hear you have been unfaithful, you ‘orrible little man!" I barked – I was a good 3" shorter than him but I was in charge.
"Yes, Sarge. Sorry, Sarge."
Only commissioned officers are called "Sir" in the British Armed Forces.
"That is not acceptable behaviour. Is it, soldier?"
"No, Sarge."
"There’s this beautiful little lady been waiting and pining for you whilst you were abroad. You get out of the Army and within 6 months you’re cheating on her."
Charmingly, he blushed, "I, I. I," he stammered.
"No excuses, boy." I cut him short. "I am here to show you the error of your ways. You know you’ve got to accept whatever punishment your wife decrees if you want to save your marriage?"
"Yes, Sarge", he said dubiously.
"Well, I’m here to give you a damn good old fashioned thrashing of a kind I guess your old man never gave you."
"What?" he looked horrified.
I plonked myself down on the sofa.
"You heard. Get your arse over my knee."
"You’ve got to be joking!"
"Do it, James," his wife intervened, "or pack your bags and get out!"
Still James hesitated.
"I mean it!" said Tracey. There was no doubt about that!
Reluctantly, James came to me and I guided him over my knee so his buttocks were nicely raised, still in his camouflages of course. They would soon come down! Luckily, he was already bare-footed.
With my left hand firmly on the small of his back, I brought my right hand sharply down on the centre of his buttocks. There was going to be no warming up. This elicited a satisfying grunt.
Now, I have spanked a few butts in my time but I have to tell you these buns were rock hard, even through the cloth of the camouflages. I landed another on the same spot, another grunt. James’s waist was narrow but I could tell his bottom was magnificent as I worked my way around it. He started squirming about but I held him firmly. Spank after spank rained down on James’s bum until my hand started to sting.
"Stand up, boy!"
I put my hand to pull the drawstring on his trousers. He grabbed my hand, "No way!"
"Let go, James," commanded Tracey, "Let him do what he must."
James obeyed but said, "I don’t like this."
"You’re not intended to," added Tracey. "I don’t like you cheating on me! But that didn’t stop you, did it?"
I pulled the drawstring and let the camouflages fall.
He was "going commando" (no underpants) and I gasped as his magnificent thighs were revealed, topped by a delicious and enormous, uncut penis and wonderful pendulous balls with a bush of fair pubic hairs. His long tree-trunk like thighs were covered with a down of fine blond hairs.
"Get back over," I ordered.
Resigned to his fate now, James resumed his place over my knee and, at last, I could see those wonderful buttocks in the flesh, perfect globes, as beautifully smooth as a baby’s. They were a delicate salmon pink. More work was needed to turn them pillar-box red. After pushing his T-shirt up his back I set to work.
My first slap across the centre of those lovely buns as hard as I could.
"Ouch!"
A response, so I repeated it, again and again.
I started working my way around his buttocks, mixing hard single slaps with rapid fire lighter ones.
I particularly liked the area around the creases where those magnificent mounds rose proudly from the backs of the wide strong thighs.
James was squirming like a good ‘un and his right leg slipped off my lap. That opened up his hairless crack, giving me a glimpse of his pretty pink anus. It also gave me access to the inside of the tops of his thighs. And I took full advantage and slapped them hard.
No matter how big and strong a young man is, that skin on the inner thighs is the most sensitive of all and James certainly felt the sting.
"Ow, stop it," he cried and tried to get up.
Although he was bigger and stronger than me, it’s not easy to get up from that position and I got my right leg over his so he couldn’t move.
I resumed my assault on his buttocks, which were now beginning to colour up nicely. They had moved from salmon pink to brick red. Still a way to go.
"Trace, please! Tell him to stop," pleaded James. "I can’t take much more!"
"Don’t be a baby. You deserve it all….and more," was her merciless response.
I glanced up at Tracey, who was sitting opposite in an armchair. I had been concentrating on her husband and hadn’t noticed that she had taken her top off, exposing her luscious breasts with their huge erect nipples. She had one hand massaging them, the other down her shorts and was clearly enjoying the spectacle of her husband getting his just desserts. I suddenly had a wicked idea! But that was for later. For now, I still had a lovely bottom over my knee but my hand was stinging too.
Thoughtfully, I had put my brief case down within easy reach, near James’s feet. I pulled out my paddle and showed it to Tracey with a quizzical look. She smirked and nodded.
I brought it down with a tremendous CRACK across the centre of James’s butt cheeks.
"Yeeeeeeow. That fucking hurt!!!"
"Watch your language. You’re not in the Army now!" CRACK
"Ow!! I’m sorry, Sarge!" CRACK
"It’s not me you have to apologise to." CRACK
"Trace! I’m so, so sorry," with break in his voice.
"Carry on, Sergeant. I don’t believe him yet."
To my amazement, she had taken her shorts off and was playing with herself. Good job that James couldn’t see her.
CRACK!
In a classic move, James’s hand came up to try to protect his beleaguered bottom.
CRACK! CRACK!
The back of each muscular, but sensitive, thigh received a whack.
"Move that hand," I barked "or I will stay there."
Suddenly a big sigh and a huge shudder shook James’s body and it went limp.
James was undoubtedly a courageous young man, having served in Afghanistan. I’m sure that had he had the misfortune to be injured he would have been as stoical and brave as any of our wonderful soldiers but at that moment he was a naughty little boy sobbing over his daddy’s knee. Whether it was pain or shame, I know not.
"I’ve been such an idiot," he sobbed, "Trace, forgive me, please!"
"Just a bit more." Tracey was softening.
Two more CRACKS and we had, at last, reached that pillar-box red. I wanted to feel the heat in James’s bottom. I put the paddle down and resumed hand spanking. But this was different. Each slap ended in a caressing motion and I allowed my fingers to stray into his crack. I loved the feel of the hot, smooth, flawless flesh
A slap on the sit spot was followed by a massage of his perineum.
Just as I hoped, I began to feel a stirring against my leg. James was beginning to get an erection.
"Stand up, face me and take that shirt off." I didn’t want him to see what Tracey was doing, just yet.
His abs and pecs rippled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.
I was pleased to see that, unlike so many soldiers, his magnificent body had not been desecrated by the graffiti of the tattooist’s needle.
The promise of his nipples was fulfilled with erect points rising from the pretty pink aureoles. I would have loved to nibble them but it wouldn’t have been appropriate in this scenario. Besides, I had something much more interesting in mind.
And yes, his beautiful cock was standing to attention, pointing up to his navel, despite his red lined eyes and tear stained cheeks.
I put my hands on his naked shoulders and turned him, away from Tracey, to face a plain wall. He was utterly pliant by now. He was so humiliated that he didn’t want to look her in the eye. He had no idea that she was now completely naked.
"Hands on your head", I ordered.
Without a murmur be obeyed. What a sight! Those wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist atop those red-hot, hard melons supported by his wondrous thighs.
I slipped out to the hall and retrieved my cane. Returning, I laid a few hard hand-spanks on James’s now prominent buttocks – just to top up the heat. I then gave them some massage, squeezing and separating each one in turn.
I indicated to Tracey to go and lay on the sofa.
Checking that James still had his erection, I told him to turn round.
He was utterly shocked to see his young wife naked on the sofa but his, already hard, penis jerked.
"We can’t waste this, can we, Tracey?" as I slapped it.
"We certainly can’t. Get that sorry red backside over here, James", as she opened her arms and legs."
He needed no second bidding, "Oh, darling, I do so love you and will never hurt you again."
"Mount her!" I commanded.
Eagerly, James straddled her and as he guided his member towards her heavenly portal, his buttocks presented the perfect target!
His erection was not going to waste and neither was that target!
I brought my cane down hard across those still red buttocks.
"Ooooow!" With the shock and the pain, James’s buttocks clenched, driving his pelvis down and his penis ploughed deep into his young wife, who echoed his cry.
His buttocks relaxed and he lifted his hips.
WHACK! Another stroke across the backs of his thighs drove him back, deep into Tracey.
Each time James lifted his buttocks I met them with a stroke of the cane.
James was screaming with the stings and Tracey moaning and squealing with passion, their cries mingling.
The background pillar-box red of Jason’s bum was now highlighted with bright scarlet lines where the cane had left its mark.
As James’s rhythm built up I switched to the paddle – It’s not easy accurately to hit a moving target with a cane – rapidly beating his buttocks in time with his thrusting into Tracey.
It didn’t take long for a violent shudder to rack James’s body and Tracey screamed as they climaxed simultaneously.
One final hard CRACK with the paddle and James’s punishment was over.
He collapsed on top of her, hugging and kissing her.
"Darling, I’ve taken all I can. Please, please say you forgive me. I love you so much."
"Well, I guess you taking all that does prove something. So OK – but if it happens again you won’t get off so lightly."
"Lightly? That guy hits hard!"
"OK, you guys. You can get all lovey dovey after I’ve gone. Stand up now," I intervened.
They both stood up, completely naked but totally unselfconscious, facing me, holding hands, James rubbing his sore butt. His cock had half subsided and was still dripping.
I placed the cane under it and bounced it up and down.
I then pointed to Tracey’s bush,
"That is the only place you put this. Do you understand, boy?"
I brought the cane down on the top of James’s prick, not too hard, as he said "Understood, Sarge" and grimaced.
I gave the cane to Tracey, saying, "I really don’t think he will stray again. But he may well misbehave in other ways. He may appear to be a magnificent specimen of a young man in his prime but inside he’s just a naughty little boy who needs regular discipline. The Army can no longer do it so you must. Use this on him as often as he needs it – and don’t hang back – he can take it. You may find slippers and your hairbrush can be just as effective. If you need my services again, don’t hesitate to call me.
Tracey giggled, "We may have to. I can hardly cane him while he’s inside me, can I?"
"Yes, Sarge. That was awesome," as he held out his hand to shake mine, "Thank you."
I got ready to leave, then remembered and fished out the made-up invoice from my brief case and handed it to James.
"Oh yes, your bill for adultery. Cheque payable to the Royal British Legion."
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Epilogue – 10 months later
Mr Redbotham, would you please be a Godfather to our month old son?
Tracey & James.