An eventful day leads to a nurse’s spanking.
9.00 am on the morning of the 29th of April 2016, and Stephen Bonneville had got up early to complete his weekly shop, having taken the Friday as a leave day to give him a four-day bank holiday weekend. The 50-year-old, somewhat portly, senior manager with his dark hair significantly receding, was a creature of habit. He had, as usual when not on duty, dressed in a navy-blue double-breasted blazer, grey trousers, white shirt worn with one of the many smart ties from his collection, in this case in blue and gold, and immaculately polished black oxford shoes.
Having completed his shopping at the local supermarket on the outskirts of town, Stephen was just pushing his loaded shopping trolley towards his almost new burgundy Peugeot 5008.
Angela Nightingale, a 25-year-old staff nurse at the local general hospital, had just completed her nightshift and had also decided to do a little shopping on her way home to her one-bedroom flat on a modern coastal development just outside town. She had just completed the last of her five consecutive nights on duty and, still wearing her uniform, she was very tired.
As she attempted to reverse her little white Fiat 500 into the adjacent space, Angela misjudged the turn. Stephen could only watch as the near side rear bumper of the little car made contact with the point on the driver’s door just behind the wheel arch of his car, with a crunch.
As Stephen continued to approach, Angela tried to go ahead, stalled, tried again, stalled again and burst into tears.
Frustrated as he was, the last thing he wanted was to put any more pressure on the other driver. Stephen, therefore, calmly opened the boot of his car, loaded the four bags of shopping, closed the boot and, leaving his trolley next to the back of his car, waited quietly to one side for the other driver to finish parking and exit her vehicle. Meanwhile, at the third attempt, Angela managed to restart the little Italian car and, with tears running down her pretty cheeks, got it aligned between the white lines, before burying her head in her hands on the steering wheel, with her lovely copper-coloured shoulder length hair now obscuring her face. An already dreadful week had just got worse.
With the engine now stopped, Stephen considered it safe to approach the other car. Realising the other driver was obviously upset, Stephen tapped gently on the driver’s window.
There was no immediate response and Stephen pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket, deciding to save time by taking down the licence number of the other vehicle and the insurance details from the square windscreen insurance disc on display.
This useful development had significantly reduced the number of uninsured vehicles on the road and had been in place for almost 30 years when the government in the small island jurisdiction had abandoned road tax in place of an additional 5p a litre fuel duty, replacing the tax disc with one issued by the vehicle insurers with the policy number and expiry date.
Stephen noticed the large bold APR16, the details of the local insurance company and then, worryingly, the 23rd April 2016 expiry date. Another gentle tap on the driver’s window also going unnoticed, Stephen pulled out his mobile phone and took photographs of the damage to his own car. He was relieved to find that this was limited to a minor dent and a scratch with white paint about 6” long where the white from the bumper had marked the shining burgundy paint. That completed, he returned to stand next to the driver’s door of the other vehicle just as Angela lifted her head and swept back her hair.
Not only was Stephen faced with the prettiest young lady he had ever seen, he immediately recognised her, aided by both her uniform and her name badge with her Christian name. His annoyed expression changed to a half-smile.
Three weeks before, Stephen had been admitted to hospital at short notice, for two days, for the removal of an ulcerated cyst from his right shoulder. The lovely and attentive Angela had, during those days, looked after him with devotion and kindness. They had several conversations and he had laughingly dubbed her his ‘Angel of mercy’, had discovered her surname, and had chocolates and flowers delivered after his discharge as a thank you for the nursing team as a whole.
Whilst Angela had made an indelible impression on Stephen, it cannot be said that the effect was mutual. As the worried nurse looked up through her tear-filled eyes, the smartly dressed gentleman was, however, slightly familiar; and she was relieved to see that he did not look angry but, if anything, kind and reassuring.
She wound down her window and, sniffling, tried to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. Stephen immediately pulled the finely pressed and folded white handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her.
“Come on, Angela, we can’t have my Angel of mercy in tears. It is not really that bad.”
She took the handkerchief and, wiping her eyes, forced a little smile.
“Of course, sorry, it has been a long week.”
He opened the door as she exited and said, “Never mind, not much damage, and the insurers will sort it anyway.” He then smiled and, pointing at her windscreen, continued, “But you had better put your new insurance disc in your window.”
He watched as an expression of concern spread over the beautiful features.
Then, as she leant forward to look at the disc, her lovely bottom just beginning to swell the skirt of her white uniform dress below the blue belt, she gasped and replied, “Oh hell! Just what I need.”
Angela remembered the reminder notice lying forgotten on her desk in the aftermath of the furious row that she had when she discovered, a week earlier, that her fiancé had been unfaithful and he had packed his bags. Although she had not deliberately failed to renew her insurance, now faced with the direct debit for her rent without her boyfriend’s contribution, she was not sure she had enough in her account until her pay came through.
Tears came again.
“Angela, you don’t mean that you have not renewed your insurance and have been driving uninsured for almost a week?”
The pretty features crumpled and she could only nod. “I’m sorry. They won’t pay, will they? I don’t know what to do. My fiancé has left me and, with the rent, I may not even have the money to pay for the insurance, let alone the damage to your car.”
With that, she buried her face in her hands and bent over the bonnet of her car sobbing, her lovely copper-coloured hair spreading out and contrasting with the white paintwork.
Stephen looked at the stunningly beautiful bottom which he had so admired when in hospital, as she bent, and which was again emphasised as her white skirt tightened over the lovely curves. Sorely tempted to land a sharp slap on the tightly stretched cotton, instead he gently rubbed her between the shoulder-blades and whispered, “Hush! Angela, Shhh! Calm yourself. Let me help you. We can get this all sorted. It’s not as bad as you think.”
Rubbing gently for another minute or so as her sobs eased, she turned her head back and her emerald green eyes locked with his. “What? Why?”
“Because I want to, and I cannot think of a better way to spend part of a day off. Because you are a sweet-natured, beautiful, kind, caring, young lady, who was so good to me and has had a run of bad luck. Your boyfriend was an idiot; he did not appreciate what a treasure he had. He was nowhere near good enough for you and did not deserve you.
“Now, dry your eyes. This is what we are going to do. Firstly, take my trolley and go in and do your shopping. I’ll come in and help if you want the company. Then I will run you back to your place and you will have a long hot bath and get some sleep. You are dog tired and not thinking straight and will feel better after a few hours rest. Meanwhile, I will contact your insurers, who are the same as mine, and will renew your policy and get them to print the insurance disc on the spot. You can either accept it as a small thank-you for all you did when I was unwell or, if you insist, give me a post-dated cheque to cover it later. I will then put the disc in your car and we can collect it later. As for the damage to the cars, don’t worry; I won’t claim on your insurance, and I won’t be out of pocket either. I took out a separate 3-year policy with the garage, to cover cosmetic and minor damage to paintwork, when I bought the car. The minor dent and scratch are exactly what this was designed for. I think the mark on your bumper will polish out and I will look at that also. If you feel up to it, I would then like to take you out for lunch to make sure you eat something and will then leave you to get some rest, after which things should feel better.”
The pretty nurse stood, turned and just looked into his eyes.
“But you needn’t do this. It is kind of you not to claim for the damage, but I can just do my shopping, drive home, and then sort out my insurance and get some rest. I’ll be all right, honest, I have four days off now.”
“Young lady, you will do no such thing! You are obviously not thinking. Do you realise how serious it is to drive for even a short distance without insurance? Quite apart from being against the law, and the fact that you could be fined £1000, sent to prison for 3 months and lose your job, if someone got hurt or you were in an accident with another car you could end up bankrupt and the person you hurt might be without support. I cannot believe you would even think of it. That is not the Miss Nightingale that I know. To take that sort of risk knowing you are uninsured, even just to get your car home, would be something that would, even at your age, were you my daughter, earn you the spanking of a lifetime!”
Angela’s eyes opened wide and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as her hands moved to cover her bottom.
“But I have unknowingly been risking all this for a week. Oh, this is dreadful!”
“Now that is the Angela I know. It was, of course, very serious but, until five minutes ago, you did it out of carelessness and not deliberately. But, it stops now! Do you understand me, young lady?”
She took a deep breath, nodded and whispered, “Yes, Stephen.”
“Now, shopping. Do you want me with you, or are you OK on your own?”
“Will you come with me so we can talk?”
“Of course, I would be delighted.”
Half an hour later, a relieved Angela was placing her shopping in the boot of Stephen’s big SUV, whilst the latter, with a cloth and a bottle of polish he kept in the boot, removed the mark from the bumper of her car. As he had expected, he then had less success with his own car as the damage was more serious, but still relatively minor.
They were then soon on their way, as a now much more relieved Angela directed Stephen to the large modern block of seaside apartments where she lived. He carried her shopping to her front door and then, as she opened it, she turned and, standing on tiptoe, kissed him on the cheek with a smile.
“Thank you for everything. See you at one-thirty.”
Having dropped her off, Stephen then parked in his work-place parking area in town and walked the short distance to the insurers. He emerged half an hour later with Angela’s insurance renewed and holding the critical cover note and insurance disc. Stephen then went home and set in motion arrangements for getting his own car repaired after the bank holiday weekend. At 10.45 he telephoned his favourite seaside restaurant, which was only half a mile up the coast from Angela’s flat, and, after a quiet word with the manager, booked a table for two for 2.00 pm. Sitting back in the comfortable leather arm chair with a large lime and tonic with ice, he pondered on the remarkable day so far and wondered what might lay ahead.
At precisely 1.30, Stephen rang the doorbell for Angela’s flat and was buzzed up. As she opened the door, Stephen realised that Angela, stunning though she was in uniform, was even more beautiful in her own choice of clothes. Her lovely chestnut hair was hanging loose and at the level of her shoulder blades and was secured in a white Alice band and she was wearing a stunning long-sleeved emerald knee-length satin dress with white stockings and elegant kitten-heeled beige shoes. She smiled when he asked her if she was feeling better and, handing her the insurance documents, reminded her that they were now going to fetch her car.
Fifteen minutes later, Angela’s little car, with insurance disc now in place, was back in its space in the underground carpark with Stephen’s Peugeot in one of the visitor’s spaces, and the couple were walking quietly along the seafront in the spring sunshine.
During the short walk, the conversation was easy as they told each other about their backgrounds. Angela told Stephen how her father, with whom she had enjoyed a great relationship, had died after a short illness when she was seventeen, and how she had left home aged just 18 when her mother remarried a year later. Stephen, in turn, described how he and his wife had drifted apart, but stayed together for their daughter until she left for university; and that he was now living apart from his wife, who was looking after her mother in Switzerland.
Moving on to more recent times, Angela asked about Stephen’s shoulder and was told that the wound had almost healed, and about his work. Angela told how she had met David, a lawyer five years older than she was, how he had proposed, and of their plans for a life together; then of her shock when she discovered his affair with a work colleague.
Stephen sympathised. “I cannot understand how anyone lucky enough to know you and be loved by you would ever look at another woman. But the question is, what can we do to get the smile back on your face and give you time to decide what you want for the future?”
The conversation continued over a lovely lunch in superb surroundings. Stephen had ordered a half bottle of an exceptional white burgundy and had poured himself a glass, over which he lingered, whilst ensuring that Angela’s glass remained topped up. After a leisurely coffee, Stephen paid the bill, adding a large tip, and started to walk a now relaxed and smiling Angela back home.
She went quiet for a while and then said, “Stephen, thank you so much for today, for being so understanding, and generous. I have had such a nice afternoon.”
He smiled and replied, “The pleasure has been all mine. I don’t think I have enjoyed an afternoon as much in years.”
She then turned to him and said, “What you said earlier, about me deserving a spanking for driving without insurance. You were serious, weren’t you? It is just I remember now that you had quite an animated discussion with Brian, in the next bed, over that newspaper article on the plans to make spanking by parents illegal. Do you really think it works, and did you spank your own daughter?”
“Well, if you really want to know, yes, I did spank Ellie whilst she was growing up, but very rarely as she was a great kid and now a lovely young lady. And yes, when applied with loving kindness to reinforce boundaries and mark misbehaviour, I do think it works. If Ellie had done what you were proposing to do, to deliberately drive uninsured, yes, I would have spanked her even at 22, but I am not sure if merely forgetting to renew her insurance, especially if under the pressure you were under, would have merited it. I suppose it would have depended how she reacted when I challenged her. Why do you ask?”
“It is just that I can’t forget how things could have been so much worse because of my carelessness, and I could have ruined my life and others. I feel so guilty. Daddy used to spank me when I was younger and, like you and Ellie, it was always because he loved me. Once over with, I was always forgiven and felt loved and tried to be better. I think it is what I need to feel now.”
Stephen stopped, and turned her gently to face him. “Angela, are you really asking me to give you a spanking?”
“Why not? I know you would enjoy it! I had a look at your mobile phone, when your call to surgery was brought forward, and saw what you were reading on the ‘overthedesk.com’ website. I know it was naughty to look but, if I need a spanking and it will make you happy, why not?”
“My dear Miss Nightingale, having you over my knee for a fun spanking, which we might both enjoy, would, I admit, make all my dreams come true.”
With a cheeky smile the lovely young lady interrupted. “I know. Don’t think I did not catch you looking. It was quite flattering, really, and after I realised, I probably bent over more than was strictly necessary as a result.”
“Why, you little minx! It is a good job I was not suffering from high blood pressure! That in itself would be enough to earn you a fun spanking over my knee. But you are talking about a real spanking for genuine misbehaviour, which is most unlikely to bring either of us any pleasure. I really hated spanking Ellie, and no doubt the same was true of your dad. I am not sure that a mere hand spanking would be enough either. It might need to be more severe. Is that really what you want?”
The smile briefly vanished and she became pensive, before softly whispering, “Yes.”
“Both, please. I genuinely feel I need to be punished, and would also like to explore the other sort with you, as I have never thought of spanking as fun.”
Stephen considered this development thoughtfully. Although she now appeared relaxed, and had brought up the subject herself, he still considered Angela vulnerable and did not wish to take advantage. But if she was genuine, and he could grant her the closure she sought, then why not?
“Ok, Angela, here is what we are going to do. I will spank you, as you wish, over my knee, as soon as we get back to your flat. It will be a genuine spanking and will hurt. After that, I will leave you to get some rest. If you then feel that you need anything stronger you will need to come to my house tomorrow morning at 10.00 am with a letter explaining what you have done wrong and why you need to be punished, and I will cane you. Afterwards, and to show that you are completely forgiven, we can spend as much of tomorrow together as you wish. I have some ideas that we should both like.
They reached the building where she lived and were soon in her comfortable lounge, sitting side by side on the sofa with Angela on Stephen’s right after he had removed his blazer and hung it on the back of a chair. The tension built and both looked at the other.
“Ok, young lady, please remove your shoes and get yourself over my knee.” He patted his left knee and smiled reassuringly.
Angela obediently removed her shoes and then, standing in her stockinged feet, lowered herself gracefully over his lap with her legs straight, her ankles crossed. Her body rested on the sofa seat to his left, as she placed her head on a cushion which she grabbed tightly with both hands.
Stephen placed his left hand reassuringly in the small of Angela’s back and rested his right hand gently on the emerald satin covering her right buttock, admiring the view.
“Now, young lady, the spanking of a lifetime for driving without insurance. Are you ready?”
He heard her take a deep breath and saw her nod slightly.
His hand lifted from the soft curves and rose to shoulder height. He paused.
“Please, I deserve it.”
Ten minutes later, Angela was perched on Stephen’s knee with her arms around him and her head buried in his chest. His left arm circled her waist and his right gently stroked the back of her hair as her sobbing began to abate. Angela’s cream silk knickers were tangled around her ankles and her dress was now hiding her scarlet bottom from view.
It had only been a hand spanking, but it was of an intensity that neither had experienced before. Stephen had started hard from the beginning, firm meaty spanks flattening the smooth curves over her dress. Angela’s eyes had opened wide with shock at the stinging and then burning sensation in her bottom. Tears had come early, due to the emotional release, but she had tried to take her spanking in silence as the spanks fell on alternate cheeks at about five second intervals, although gasps could not be prevented and her breathing became more rapid.
Three dozen spanks later, she felt the back of her dress lifted, the skirt being loose enough to be lifted with the front still trapped between her thighs and those of her chastiser. Angela turned her head and her tear-filled eyes met his. Stephen’s voice was soft; as his right hand, stinging somewhat, rested on the silk lace-trimmed cream-coloured French knickers which moulded her lovely bottom.
“And have you learned your lesson yet, young lady?”
Both already knew the answer, and the shake of Angela’s head was merely confirmation.
“So be it.”
Stephen sighed, and, with a final gentle rub over both silk-covered cheeks, the punishing hand was again raised.
With only the thin silk of her knickers now protecting her delightful derriere, which was bright pink where the lower cheeks were not fully covered, Angela immediately noticed the difference. A series of oohs, ouches, and high-pitched squeaks were forced from her lovely lips and with her bottom now pancaking more pronouncedly and her dress now bunched around her waist, she started to wriggle and squirm.
About half way through her ordeal, and with the volume of her responses growing incrementally louder, Angela’s ankles finally uncrossed. She started to kick her lovely legs, clad in white hold-up stockings with lacy tops, as she grabbed the seat cushion tightly to prevent herself putting her hands in the way. Shortly afterwards, to try and pause her punishment and protect her lower curves which she felt were getting increased attention, she brought both her heels back to touch her bottom.
There was a pause, but only so that Stephen could lower her legs one at a time and land a particularly heavy spank on the back of each elegantly curved thigh and another on the back of each calf.
“Ouch! Ouch! Oohh! Oww! You bastard!” the last in a whisper.
Stephen half-smiled. “Language, young lady. I can assure you there is absolutely no issue with my parentage.”
Before Angela knew what Stephen was doing, she found her thighs trapped between his, the front of her dress now also pulled clear and his right hand again resting on her bottom. Once more, she turned to look at him, noticing that he was beginning to look slightly apprehensive. Once more he asked the question, and once more she shook her head, her face covered in tears.
“Well, in that case, I suppose it will have to be on the bare bottom.”
The lovely young lady felt both his hands gently move to the waist-band of her knickers and lifted her hips to help as he slid them down to the level of her stocking tops. She gasped as she felt his hand gently resume its position on the very centre of her right buttock, this time on bare flesh.
Stephen noticed that all of the perfect posterior on display was now bright red from the top of the crack of her bottom to the middle of her thighs.
“Are you sure?”
The spanking resumed, although this was now a duty and no longer a pleasure for Stephen. The cries were now undoubtedly heartfelt and he hoped that the sound insulation was better than in most flats. A couple of minutes later, Angela finally let go of the cushion and tried to put her hands back to protect her bottom, only to find them grasped and held in the small of her back.
Stephen, realising that things were nearing the end, increased the pace, and a volley of sixty further spanks in very quick succession had him panting from exertion, but he had achieved his aim. Angela let out a wail and, all resistance extinguished, went completely limp over his lap.
Sobbing, she gasped, “Please, I’m sorry.”
Stephen’s hand paused in mid-flight and then rubbed the scarlet bottom gently. “There, there. All over now. Shhh.”
When, after a minute or so, she again turned to look at him, there was a forced smile as she twisted her body and reached her hands towards his shoulder and pulled herself to bury her head just above his heart, her tears moistening the soft cotton of his shirt.
Neither knew how long they sat in that position, although neither wanted it to end. Finally, with Angela no longer crying and breathing gently, Stephen stood and lifted her in his arms before lowering her feet gently to the floor and kissing her on the forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
Angela gathered her thoughts as she gingerly replaced her knickers and, with her dress again lifted, rubbed her bottom.
“Sore. No, more than sore! But somehow loved and forgiven and at peace, just as I remember feeling after daddy spanked me. I do need to get some cream on my poor bottom, which feels twice the size. I remember that it used to help. Would you do it for me?”
“Angela, I am so glad that you are feeling better and that you have been able to put the past behind you, but no. This was a punishment spanking. If I was to apply cream to your lovely bottom, which for your information is still its normal perfect size, I doubt I would be able to resist the temptation and would blur the lines between punishment and fun. I will now leave you to recover and get some rest.” He left a card on the table with his name, address and phone numbers. “Call me in the morning and let me know how you are. And, if you would like us to meet, you know what to do.”
As Stephen replaced his blazer, he was surprised when Angela put her arms around him and kissed him full on the lips. His hands came around and gently cupped her bottom.
“Dear Stephen, thank you so much for everything. I feel the worst is now behind me. Until tomorrow, then.”
As they separated, she replaced his hands with hers and, although her eyes were still red, he noticed she was smiling.
The following morning at just after nine, exactly 24 hours since events unfolded so unexpectedly, Stephen was delighted to receive a call from Angela. He noticed she appeared to be back to her bubbly self, and he asked how she was.
“You mean, how is my bottom?”
“No, you little minx. I mean, how is my Angel of Mercy?”
“Couldn’t be better. I slept like a baby and woke up refreshed and happy. My bottom, as I know that you are interested, is still a bit red and tingles a bit, quite nicely in fact. I will see you at ten.”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly. Yesterday’s spanking, and heavens you do know how to spank, resolved the issue of my carelessness; both with the renewal of the insurance and with my driving. It was sort of like a grown-up version of what daddy would have given me. I now need a proper punishment for putting myself and all those others at risk and for being a criminal every day for six days, so I am coming over to receive the cane. See you soon. Bye.”
It was only at this point that Stephen realised he in fact did not possess a cane. Fortunately, the nearest adult shop was only ten-minutes’ walk away, and twenty-five minutes later, he was back with a curved handled cane just under 3ft long together with a leather paddle. He had also found his daughter’s riding crop. Ellie had not ridden since she had lost her confidence after a nasty fall when she was fourteen. He spent the next ten minutes practicing on a large cushion, and quickly assured himself that he should be able to place six parallel tramlines on his angel’s lovely bottom, if that was what she wished.
Right on time, the little Fiat drew up in his driveway and Angela, dressed in tight black elasticated trousers, tan ankle boots and a white cashmere roll-neck pullover, alighted. Simon felt like a teenager on a first date and had the front door open before she even reached it.
Angela smiled, kissed him on the cheek and then, standing with her hands clasped and her head bowed, said, “Fallen angel reporting for well-deserved punishment.” Then she handed him a letter.
Trying to suppress a smile, Stephen responded, “Very well, young lady, come through to my study. Would you like to sit down for a coffee before we start, or stand up for one afterwards?”
They decided on coffee first, and half an hour flew by as they laughed and joked and were totally oblivious to what was the supposed reason for the visit. As the half hour chimed on the nearby church clock, both were brought back to reality. It was a nervous Angela who spoke first, putting down her cup with a now apprehensive look.
“W-what do I have to do? W-where do you want me?”
Stephen unfolded her note, which contained a cheque for the amount of the insurance renewal.
Dear Mr Bonneville,
Thank you for agreeing to help me with my problem.
Due to my carelessness, I have endangered myself and others and committed criminal acts over a period of six days and, but for your intervention, would probably still be doing so. If I am to be able to put this behind me, I need to be properly punished for my crimes, for which I consider the spanking I was given yesterday was insufficient.
Please therefore administer six of the very best cane strokes to my bare bottom, or more if you consider it necessary, and then tell me that I am forgiven.
I would very much like to spend the rest of the day with you if you are happy to spend it with a fallen, but hopefully redeemed, angel.
(Angela Georgiana Alicia Isabel Nightingale)
Placing the cheque on the desk, Stephen turned to the lovely and worried young lady and, referring to the cheque, said, “My dear girl, you did not need to do this. I was happy to help.”
“Oh, but it was necessary. Don’t you see, if I let you pay for the insurance it would feel like I was being paid to be spanked and caned.”
“Ok, I understand. although you know I would never see it that way. Now, young lady, you will go over to the desk and stand next to it. Lower those lovely trousers to your knees, and your panties as well, and grasp the far side. Do not let go or stand up until I give you permission. I will give you six strokes and you will control the pace of your punishment. Ask for the first stroke, then count the stroke and ask for the next one. Do you understand, Miss Nightingale?”
This was Angela’s moment of truth. It was what she needed, and she felt it was out of her hands and she could submit willingly to her fate. She knew that he would not force her, and she could withdraw at any time; he had left her in control but she also knew that she would not use it.
Chin held high, her lovely features wearing the hint of a smile, she approached the desk and bent forward. Angela was well aware of the view that Simon would have, as the tight elasticated fabric of her trousers, worn over lycra shorts so there was no visible panty line, stretched over her delightful derriere. She thought she heard his intake of breath and wondered if he would make her pay for her teasing. Then, inserting her hands on both sides of the waistband she pushed both trousers and panties down to the tops of her thighs and left them there. She was now smiling broadly as she knew, from practicing in the mirror, how her bottom jiggled as the lowering fabric released the imprisoned curves, and also at her deliberate disobedience to his instructions to lower her garments to her knees, which she could not accomplish in her current position bent over the desk.
Stephen was fully aware of her little game and also smiled. So, this was how she wanted to play it. He admired the still pink cheeks of her bottom and imagined them decorated with six cane stripes.
“Angela, stand up.” The voice was calm and not angry, but she did not detect any signs of amusement.
“Young lady, you will do as you are told, and exactly as you are told, or you may go now.”
She gasped, no longer smiling. Had she misjudged him? Was he going to back out and leave her embarrassed and ashamed? She felt her eyes prickle with tears.
“What did I say to do with your trousers and panties, young lady?”
“Lower them to my knees, sir.”
“And have you done so?”
Quickly Angela slid both trousers and shorts to her knees and again bent over. She sensed rather than saw him pick up the cane and flex it, then she definitely heard him swish it through the air. He was waiting. What was she supposed to do next? Oh yes!
“Please, Sir, may I have the first stroke?”
Angela was looking out between the curtains and through the Victorian sash windows out onto his garden and kept her eyes open.
Stephen had considered the sequence and stuck to his plan. He touched the thin whippy cane with the tip touching the centre of her right buttock, raised the cane shoulder high and brought it whistling in to contact its target precisely as planned.
Angela gasped, her head tossed back in a cascade of chestnut curls and her legs kicked like a frog.
‘Oh heavens, what have I got myself into?’ she thought to herself, before remembering in her mind all the other vehicles, and all the pedestrians, pushchairs, and cyclists, she had passed when uninsured. She blew out hard and crossed her ankles firmly.
“One, sir. May I have the next stroke, please?”
Stephen saw the cane cut into the lovely hemispheres and the white line transform to red tramlines. He nodded to himself and then aligned his cane at the very top of his target area and let fly.
Angela had just taken a deep breath and relaxed her bottom when the stroke arrived. She merely exhaled and gently shook her head, her ankles and knees remained locked together. The pain, although excruciating, had not taken her by surprise this time.
“Two, sir. May I have the next stroke please?”
Watching and waiting, Stephen swung the next stroke to strike the very place where Angela’s exquisite bottom met the tops of her lovely thighs, and again his aim was true.
“Ow! Oh sh…!” She caught the expletive. “Sugar, that hurt!”
She pushed her cashmere covered breasts from the surface of the desk and looked back accusingly at her stern faced chastiser. Then, a pause, and a very quiet, “Three sir, may I have the next stroke, please?” as she again looked to her front and composed herself.
‘Half way there, I can do this and I do deserve it,’ she told herself.
Stephen was no longer smiling but determined. He knew he had really hurt the angelic creature before him and did not enjoy doing so. He wished it had only been a fun caning, just stinging her bottom and leaving pink lines that they could joke about afterwards, but that would not bring her closure. He must steel himself to the task he had accepted.
The next two strokes, delivered an inch below the top stroke and an inch above the lowest, both forced a loud ‘Ouch’ from the pretty nurse’s lips, and she realised she was now crying. Her response to the fourth stroke was laboured and to the penultimate stroke was barely audible as she whispered, “Five. May I have the last stroke please?”
This time it was Stephen’s turn to tease. “You may have the sixth stroke. Whether it is the final stroke remains to be seen. I seem to remember something about, ‘or more if you consider it necessary’. Keep still and stay in position until I give you permission to rise, is that clear, Miss Nightingale?”
“Oh please, oh please.”
There was a sob. “Yes, sir. Quite clear.”
The last stroke, in accordance with tradition, was definitely the hardest of all, delivered to the very centre of the lovely bottom and enhanced with a flick of Stephen’s wrist.
There was a screech from the beautiful victim as the cane bit deeply into the luscious softness of Angela’s bottom, which bounced up and down as her whitened knuckles gripped the edge of the desk for dear life.
‘Oh gosh! Oh gosh! Oh heavens. Please let there be no more, please let there be no more. I will be good. Really I will,’ she prayed silently, before simply relaxing over the desk, the surface of which was dampened by her tears as she struggled to control her breathing.
Angela heard Stephen drop the cane and breathed a sigh of genuine relief. She then felt his reassuring hand rubbing between her shoulders as he had the day before as she had sobbed over the bonnet of her car.
“All over, Angela, all over. All forgiven and redeemed.”
She was astonished by his voice. He was genuinely upset. He had done this because she had asked, because she had needed it, but he was hurting. She calmed herself and steadied her voice.
“Please sir, may I stand?”
“You may, my dear one. Of course you may.”
He helped her to her feet and again she hugged him to her. He lifted her gently to her feet and carried her to the spare en-suite bedroom and laid her on the bed.
“Angela, my dear, take as long as you need. There is plenty of hot water and you should have all you need. I will see you downstairs when you are ready.”
This time there was a definite smile on the pretty tear-streaked features as she mouthed, “Thank you, really.”
Twenty minutes later, Angela and Stephen were again chatting in his study. Angela realised that the elasticated fabric of her trousers and underwear had not been the best choice as they squeezed her tender buttocks. The couple still had an enjoyable afternoon with lunch and tea at a local vineyard, followed by a light dinner prepared by Stephen. Angela giggled when she was shown the tickets for the show that they were to attend that evening, ‘The taming of the shrew’.
“Well, this shrew has certainly been tamed,” she declared, rubbing her bottom gently.
“Except that you were never a shrew, and now my Angel is back on her cloud.”
Angela gradually got her life back on track and eventually met a young doctor with whom she fell in love. She continued to keep in touch with Stephen, who assumed the role of surrogate father, and was there for her whenever she needed him. She did receive a couple more spankings, the last for fun on the day of her wedding, before Stephen gave her away. The cane was never used again but still sits in the umbrella stand in Stephen’s office.
© Capstan 2021