Caroline ‘Caro’ Mossley: Part 3

The story continues

By Steve Williams

“Now shall I get that coffee or it will be stewed?” said Caro.

“Go on then. Just black for me please,” said Peter as he checked his emails and made a posting on his universal calendar showing him away for Thursday and Friday.

Caro returned with the coffee and placed it on the coffee table. Peter was busy on the phone so Caro retired to her bedroom and changed into her old school uniform. Thought she might give Peter a thrill. It still fitted although, with her hips having widened a bit, the skirt had ridden up a bit and if she had turned up for school wearing that, she would certainly have got a sixer for inappropriate dress.

She went back into the lounge and stood in a very provocative pose.

Peter looked up from his phone call and was struck dumb. He recovered pretty quickly and said: “Must go! Ring you later,” and rang off. “Well young lady. What do you think you are doing dressed like that? Talk about inappropriate dress.”

“I thought you’d like it Peter,” said a disappointed Caro.

“You said that you wanted to take your time in this relationship,” said Peter in an angry tone. “Do you not realise what a turn-on that outfit is? Are you just a little prick-tease? I really didn’t think of you that way.”

Caro burst into tears. “Oh No! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to please you. I am so sorry Peter. Please forgive me!”

“You are a very silly girl. At thirty-eight years of age you should know better, a lot better. Forgiveness comes with a price. What will Jenny get for inappropriate dress?”

“Six of the best?” Suggested Caro.

“What would you have got at school for inappropriate dress Caro?” He asked.

“Probably six of the best, Peter. Maybe just four for a first offence,” she replied.

“Well this is the cost of forgiveness young lady. I am going to spank you, mostly on your left cheek but a few on your thighs, I think, and then you will get changed into you hockey kit and come with me to my house. You’d better bring a change of clothes into something that you can be seen out in. I am going to teach you a severe lesson. This will be punishment, not play.”

“What punishment, please?”

“You can think about it until it happens and see if you can work out what the punishment will be, bearing in mind you told me what you would have got at school and, by the way, do you really think Jenny will get off with what she would have got as a schoolgirl?”

“Oh! My God! I have overstepped the mark. I am sorry Peter. Maybe Jenny will get another ten, and they will be of the best.”

“Right girl, come over here,” said Peter as he took her hand and led her, unprotesting, to the couch. He sat and pulled her over his lap. He flipped up her skirt. Caro made no struggle. She realised that this was deserved, and she was ashamed of herself. Peter’s words stinging on her ears. She had never been called a prick-tease before, but in all honesty he was right so she took her spanking bravely.

Peter had delivered about five minutes of continued spanking and his hand was beginning to get as sore as Caro’s bottom. He pulled her knickers down and was greeted by the sight of the most glorious crimson bottom.

He reached down and tugged one of her trainers off.

“Oh no! Please, not the slipper. My bottom is very sore. Please…” Caro pleaded, but to no avail.

Peter gripped the trainer in his hand and said: “It is going to be really sore by the time we go out tonight. Sitting down will be difficult I promise you. Now six on each cheek.”

He whacked the trainer down on her left cheek and this brought a squeak from Caro and was followed by the remaining spanks in quick succession. When he had finished Caro was howling and her bottom was glowing. He stood her up and she hopped from foot to foot with her knickers round her ankles and her hands clasping her bottom.

“Oh how it stings. I am so sorry Peter. Really sorry. Everything you said was correct. Please forgive me. Don’t be angry.”

“You remember what Jenny said about giving you an inch?”

“Yes Peter. She was right. I need reigning in sometimes and this is one of them. I didn’t give you the respect you so greatly deserve.”

“Thank you for your apologies that I accept. Now go to your room and change into hockey kit. You can put your tracksuit bottoms on if you wish. Pack a bag with something that you want to be seen in. Get a move on or I will be in there with this trainer.”

Caro rushed to her room nearly falling over her knickers that were still round her ankles. As soon as she got into her bedroom she shut the door and rubbed her bottom desperately trying for some relief.

“Ow!Ow!Ow!“ She said.

When she reappeared she was dressed exactly as told and had a small holdall in which she had put some fresh knickers, a short skirt, a bra and a polo shirt. Also in there were a pair of flat shoes and ankle socks.

“I am ready Sir,” she said with a deep respect. The ‘Sir’ was not meant to be sarcastic.

“Let’s go then,” said Peter, “And get this sad episode out of the way.”

They went directly to the garage to avoid the porter’s eyes. Peter nipped up and brought his car down to where Caro was standing, looking forlorn.

Ten minutes later they pulled in to Peter’s drive. He helped Caro out and she picked up her holdall. He opened the front door ushering her in to the hall. She turned towards the lounge, but Peter stopped her and pointed to the study.

She looked up at Peter and he could see true sorrow in her eyes. It could have melted a softer person, but though basically a kind individual he steeled himself to apply the punishment that both he and Caro thought was well deserved.

“You are a very naughty girl, Caro, and I think the only suitable punishment is what your friend Jenny is going to get from Sister Sophia next week. Should I ring Sister Sophia, do you think, and ask her advice?”

“Oh no! Please, Sir, can’t we keep this between us. It really isn’t anybody else’s business.” Replied Caro.

“OK! But if you ever do something like that to me again I will either end the relationship immediately or give you such a beating that you will not sit down for a month. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” said Caro in a very small voice.

“These are the two canes that I own. One is a junior cane that I used on Marion when we wanted a light foreplay, while the other one is my equivalent of your senior cane and that is what I shall use tonight! Take off you track suit bottoms.”

“Yes Sir,” she said as she obeyed. She was very nervous because Peter was a big man, and a very angry big man as well.

She turned to face him in her short blue hockey skirt and white T-shirt. On her feet she had sports socks and trainers.

“Lift your skirt please,” said Peter in a very stern voice.

She did so and, when told, turned her back to Peter.

He was totally captivated by the sight of tight blue brief knickers stretched tight across a bottom still crimson from its earlier spanking. Where her cheeks peeped out from the sides of her knickers, the skin showed the glowing results of the spanking.

He steeled himself to make sure that this caning would be of the best, so to speak.

“Caro, please approach my desk and prostrate yourself across it taking a firm grip on the other side.”

Caro did so hoping against hope that just maybe her knickers would stay in place.

“Caro! I asked you earlier what you thought would be an appropriate punishment. We agreed on you being caned but not the number of strokes. You said if at school you would probably have got six strokes. But as an adult lady of thirty-eight years what do you think would be fair? Or should I ring Jenny and ask her? Eh!” He said.

“I am sorry sir. I deserve what at school would be the maximum of twelve strokes.”

“If you failed to stay in position or broke the punishment rules, how would they be dealt with if you had already had a maximum?”

“I would have had my sentence delayed like Jenny has. Perhaps not normally a week apart. Maybe two or three days. It would depend partly on the condition of my bottom.”

“OK. This is what is going to happen. You know that you can get up now and walk out and that is the end of our friendship. If not then you must accept the full punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir. I value our friendship more than you can know.”

With this confirmation Peter came and stood behind Caro and gently eased her very tight knickers down her thighs until they nestled round her knees. It was a wondrous sight, and Peter was so pleased that Caro put such a high value on their friendship.

“Remember the rules, Caro. Same as your school rules. OK?”

“Yes Sir ! Do I have to count the strokes?”

“No! I will do that, don’t you worry. If I lose count I will be able to count off the stripes on your bottom,” he said with a chuckle. “Now I will begin. Brace yourself.”

Peter was now getting nervous. Never mind telling Caro to brace herself; he needed to steel himself to properly apply the cane to her bottom, a bottom he was in love with.

He tapped the cane on her bottom in the manner she described Sister Joseph as using. Then the first stroke was due. He took the cane back high in the air. He saw Caro tighten her buttocks in anticipation. He didn’t hesitate but brought the cane down with all his force across the centre of her cheeks.

Thwack. Nothing for a couple of seconds then: “Owwwww! Oh Noooooo!” She screeched and her bottom wobbled and clenched and unclenched frantically.

He stood back and watched as the stripe got darker and darker. He tapped his cane across her bottom again and Caro knew when and what was coming when the tapping stopped. Once again the cane was lifted high in the air and, thwack, down came the cane. Peter was not as accurate as Sister Joseph or Sister Sophia, thought Caro as, though it hurt and stung like mad, it was not put immediately next to the previous stroke which she knew Sister Sophia would do next week.

She yelled and her bottom gyrated and wobbled and clenched. The Sisters would have waited until the bottom was perfectly still but Peter’s eagerness meant he rushed the next stroke and was just as indiscriminate as before.

Caro was grateful, because coming so fast on the heels of the previous strOKes meant the pain did not have time to completely sink in before the next lot. This accumulation is the sign of an experienced punisher. Caro was howling with the pain, but due to the way it was being administered she was not shrieking like she knew she would next week.

Peter stood back and surveyed the damage. His eagerness again took over and he tapped her bottom twice then just as before. This one did cross some of the previous strokes.

Caro shouted out loud: “Not on top of those please,” as her bottom writhed and the stripes got darker still. This was painful but she felt she could live with it. Numbers five and six were also administered at full force but Peter took a bit more care where he was aiming. He was still in a rush and this diminished the effect much to Caro’s relief.

“Halfway Caro,” said Peter as he smoothed his hand across her bottom and felt the heat. She twisted away as he stroked her and she cried out with the pain.

“Are you ready for the next six Caro?” He asked with a hitch in his voice.

“Yes Sssir,” she stuttered.

Peter told her: “Bend a little further over and keep your legs straight or you will get extras. I was lenient with the first six strokes, but do not push your luck.”

He adjusted her position just slightly and then stood back placing the cane on the lower slopes of her bottom. She twitched at this and made little mewing sounds. Tears were running down her face. She couldn’t believe how silly she had been.

Peter drew the cane back and slightly to the side as opposed to high up and then swished it in on a flatter trajectory which landed on the lower slopes of her bottom.

Caro was grateful that a new area seemed to have been targeted but shrieked with the sting and the pain as it shot through this most sensitive part of her anatomy.

Peter carried on the pattern of before and hurriedly swished the cane across her bottom. His aim was better though and a second stripe blazed a parallel line on her bottom. Caro was in danger of losing it and she shrieked and kicked her legs and yelled out loud: “OWWWW! No more please. Please!”

This was heart wrenching to Peter, but he stuck to his guns. The pattern was repeated twice more so now she had received ten of her twelve strokes. She was slumped across the desk and Peter reminded her of the position she was supposed to be in. She made the effort and straightened her legs with groans of pain. The eleventh was a stroke too far as it whistled in right across the crease between bottom and thigh. Caro shot up and did a little dance on the spot with her hands flapping trying not to grab her bottom.

She was yelling: “Oh no!” Repeating it numerous times. Her pretty face was screwed up with the pain of that last stroke.

“Come on Caro! Resume the position, just one more to come,” said Peter feeling deeply sorry for the state of her bottom.

Caro looked at him forlornly and gingerly resumed the required position with her legs trembling.

“Try to keep still Caro,” said a sympathetic Peter.

As soon as she steadied herself he brought the cane down for the last time, landing on a virgin bit of flesh just on the lower slopes of her bottom. She screamed as much with relief as pain. Peter put the cane to one side and surveyed the damage. It was considerable.

“Why don’t you stand up Caro?” He said gently.

“Thank you, Sir,” she replied quietly as she continued sobbing with tears still pouring down her face.

“All over now Caro. You know you deserved that?”

“Yes Peter. I got ahead of myself. What I did was wrong, I believe, because of the timing.”

“Yes you certainly did. I must also admit I enjoyed the ritual of caning you far more than the actual punishment.”

“I enjoyed the ritual more as well,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Oh my poor bottom.”

“Come with me to my bedroom, Caro, and I will put some cream on the stripes; might ease them a bit.”

“Your bedroom?” Said Caro.

“Yes. I put the cream out earlier and the bed will be soft for you to lie on. Even if you pleaded with me I wouldn’t sleep with you tonight.”

“I never plead,” snapped Caro.

“Good!” said Peter. “Now go to my bedroom.”

He escorted her up the stairs and, taking her by the arm, gently placed her face down over his bed. It was a marvellous sight, two round cheeks with a dozen stripes interspersed across them. Peter put a large blob of cold cream on his hand and gently, starting from the top of her cheeks, smoothed the cream into the burning stripes. He could feel the heat in his hand. Caro wriggled and her sobs changed to little mewing sounds. This really turned Peter on as shown by the huge bulge in his trousers. He was pleased he had Caro bend over the bed rather than across his knees. How embarrassing would that be?

“Is that helping, Caro?” He asked in a gentle voice.

“Yes thanks Peter. You are a paradox,” she said.

“How come?”

“Well one minute you are causing me untold agony to my bottom and the next you are gently soothing it. That’s what I call a paradox.”

“Do you think you will be healed up by next Monday when you go to Sister Sophia?”

“Yes! Peter, when you caned me I know you tried to whack me hard but I must tell you that compared with Sister Sophia you are just a beginner. It didn’t hurt half as much as her canings. Sorry! Don’t mean to put your efforts down but if you look you will see that I don’t have 12 parallel stripes. I will have when Sister Sophia gets to me.”

“I will have to get more practice,” said Peter with a big smile on his face.

“Practice on someone else. A spanking is one thing but I do not want to be caned unless I can help it,” she added.

“Shall we go out and have a drink and something to eat?”

“Give me a few minutes. Can I have a shower and can I stay here tonight please?”

“OK but I would let the cream take effect a bit before showering. Yes you can stay. I have a spare bed made up.”

“Alright Peter. Who does all your domestic work, like getting the spare bed done and general cleaning. The house is immaculate.”

“I have a cleaning company come in twice a week. Fridays to do a big clean and Tuesday just to tidy up and do any odd jobs I ask to be done.”

“So they have access when you are not here?”

“Yes they have keys and alarm codes. They are very responsible. I use the company for all our business cleaning.”

Peter heard his cell phone bleep indicating a text coming in. He had left the phone downstairs so with a final gentle stroking of Caro’s bottom he went to find the phone and see who could be texting him at eight o’clock on a Tuesday night. Not that many people had his mobile number. It was the wife of one of his business partners asking him to call her and though it didn’t say it was urgent he rang her straight away.

“Fiona! It’s Peter.” He said when she answered.

“Hi Peter! How are you keeping? Long time no see!” She said in a bubbly voice.

“I’m fine Fiona, but after taking two months out in the winter I had a lot of catching up to get done. What can I do for you?”

“James and I are having a little get together on the boat this weekend. Have you seen the new boat?”

“No, but I heard all about it. Sunseeker isn’t it?”

“Yes. It is just having an engine overhaul, but will be ready for us to collect on Friday”

“What, here in Poole?” He asked

“Yes. James won’t let anyone but Sunseeker touch it.”

“Don’t blame him. It is a lot of money tied up in it and you don’t want a cowboy looking after it, do you?”

“No. Anyway we thought we might get a dozen or so friends together on Saturday and take the boat out and whizz over to Jersey and come back Monday morning. Do you fancy it?”

“Yes I do Fiona. Can I bring someone with me?”

“Of course. Is this a new flame Peter?” She asked.

“Yes very new, but I am smitten and you know I do not fall easily.”

“No. You haven’t had a proper relationship since Marion died have you?”

“No, but this is early days for me, and also for her. She is a very independent lady.”

“What’s her name then?” asked Fiona.

“Her name is Caroline, but it is Caro to friends. She is thirty-eight and very attractive.”

“Brilliant! James will be delighted. I will email details to you tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks Fiona. I am going to Scotland with her on Thursday and Friday. She has business up there and I am going for the ride.”

“Oooh! Nicely put. OK. See you Saturday morning. Bye.”

“Bye,” said Peter, thinking that was very opportune.

He returned to his bedroom and found Caro in the same position with two wet flannels on her bottom, one on each cheek.

“Business?” She asked.

“No. An invite for a couple of days out at the weekend on a boat to Jersey. Want to come?”

She half turned to face him and said: “Maybe. It depends.”

Peter expected a bit more enthusiasm so said: “Depends on what Caro?”

“Well first, who with? And then, how will you introduce me?”

“OK. One of my co-directors has a Sunseeker cruiser which is in for overhaul here at Poole and he takes it back on Friday. That text was from his wife, Fiona. I asked if I could bring someone who I described as a very special friend. Are you worried about the sleeping arrangements?”

“No. I trust you implicitly and if we sleep together it doesn’t have to follow that we have sex, does it?” She said with a smile.

Peter thought that was a good sign and said: “No, it doesn’t. So what is the concern?”

“I don’t want to be seen as a trophy or bimbo Peter. I know you don’t think of me like that but what will your friends think? You can hardly say I met her on the nudist beach showing off a well spanked bottom can you?” This last bit bringing a smile to her face.

“Look, there is going to be James and Fiona who own the boat, and Charlotte and her boyfriend, that is James and Fi’s daughter. Then there will be three or four other couples who may or may not be married and whom I may or may not know. I will introduce you as my girlfriend. Is that OK?”

“Yes I suppose so,” she said hesitatingly.

“Any other problems?” Peter asked.

“Yes, the biggest one,” she said.

“What on earth can be wrong now?” He asked in a frustrated tone.

“Well I suppose there will be a lot of sunbathing?”

“Yes. So?” He said.

“Well just look at my bum.” She said lifting off the flannels showing a burning red seat.

“Oh I see what you mean but let’s see how quickly it heals and take it from there.”

“But I can hardly let people see these marks Peter.”

“No but you could wear shorts and make an excuse about time of the month,” Peter responded.

“Oh, yes that might work,” she said thinking things through. “Are you sure you still want to be with me after my disgraceful behaviour today Peter? I will understand if you say no. My fault entirely.”

“Caro! You have been punished for that and very severely at that. If I did not want any more to do with you I would not have punished you I would just have walked out.”

“Oh Peter.” She said flinging her arms round his neck. “I beg your forgiveness.”

“You are forgiven but if I hear any more nonsense about me not wanting you I will skin you alive.” He said as she squeezed him ever tighter.

“Come on, Caro. Put some clothes on and we can go to the Quay and have a pub meal if you like.” Said Peter with a face now full of smiles.

“I don’t mind going for a drink if we can stand at the bar but I really don’t think I can sit down Peter. Couldn’t we pick up Fish and Chips and bring them back here. Then I could eat standing up.”

“OK! We can do that if you would prefer. Go and get dressed.”

“Have you got a bath towel please Peter? I rather fancy a shower before we go out.”

“I’ll get you one. And when you’ve showered I will put some more cream on your bottom before you get dressed. Have you any loose knickers with you. The ones you were wearing won’t be very comfy, I fear.”

“I do have a change of knickers but I think if we are just pubbing it I will go commando with my trackie bottoms.”

“Whatever is comfiest. Can I text Fiona to say we are coming?”

“Yes.” She said shortly, going to the bathroom with her red and sore bottom wiggling as she walked.

Peter was unsure whether she was doing it on purpose or whether her bum was out of control. He decided to ask her when she came out of the bathroom. He fetched her a towel and passed it to her just before she went into the shower. While Caro was showering Peter texted Fiona with an acceptance.

Caro seemed to be ages in the shower and Peter was beginning to be concerned when she cheekily poked her head round the bathroom door.

“Can Doctor Peter please come to the bathroom?” She said.

Peter picked up the jar of cold cream and went into the bathroom.

He told Caro to bend over the side of the bath and grab the rail on the other side. She did as told and Peter had great difficulty in ignoring the sight in front of him to just apply cold cream to a hot looking bottom. Every time he touched a stripe she flinched and oohed.

“Peter! Please be gentle.” She said with feeling.

“I am being as gentle as I can, Caro, but if the cream is going to be effective I have to touch the sore bits.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just so sore. That is a horrible cane you used.”

“I know, my daughter used to hate it,” said Peter.

“Don’t blame her,” sniffed Caro.

Peter stood back and said: “I think that will do the job, Caro. Put your trackie bottoms on and we can go and have a couple of drinks. Are you going to be OK walking?”

“Better than sitting in a car, thanks.” Said Caro.

They strolled slowly through the park and at the Baiter Park boat slip stopped to watch fireworks whizzing over the harbour. They seemed to be starting at Sandbanks.

“We should go to the fireworks one night Peter. We could have dinner at the Jazz Cafe. I love that place.”

“You know, I have never been there.” said Peter.

“I often go there on a Sunday lunchtime. It’s a great atmosphere with a really good Jazz quartet.”

“I’d like to go there,” said Peter. “Are you a big Jazz fan, Caro?”

“Yes. My favourite music Peter,” she said.

They continued through to the Quay and decided that rather than a pub they would go to a wine bar where a guitarist was playing some covers. There were some high tables where one could sit on bar stools or stand. No surprise that Caro chose to stand. Peter ordered a bottle of Rioja and a tray of nibbles; nuts, whitebait, crisps and olives. They made quite a fetching couple for all that Caro was wearing a pair of track suit bottoms and a tee shirt. When, after about an hour, they had finished the Rioja they were in agreement to not order another bottle and walk home collecting fish and ships on the way.

When they arrived at Peter’s, Caro found her way round the kitchen to get plates and cutlery while Peter sliced some crusty bread and laid things on the Kitchen table.

“Are you sure you won’t sit Caro?” Asked Peter.

“No Peter. My bottom is still throbbing. I will be sleeping on my tummy tonight. I hope it eases somewhat tomorrow or the trip to Scotland will be very unpleasant.”

Peter stood as well and they tucked in to plates of cod and chips. They drank beer from the bottles. When they had finished Peter cleared away putting the dishes in the dishwasher while Caro put the TV on in the lounge and when Peter came in she told him to sit on the couch. He did as told and then Caro went and placed herself face down across his lap.

He eased her trousers down and gently stroked her red, sore bottom. She purred as his hands wandered off the burning cheeks and down her thighs. Eventually she lifted herself up and went to the bathroom. She came to Peter a few minutes later with a flannel that was soaked in ice cold water.

He asked her to bend over the arm of the sofa and then dabbed her cheeks with the freezing cold flannel. Caro sighed with relief as the cold numbed her bottom and took a lot of the sting away,

“I suppose I am going to be doing this next Monday, aren’t I Caro?” He said.

“Yes Peter. I am dreading that visit. I know she is really going to lay it on.”

“Well, I’ll be here for you if that is what you want,” he said.

“It is. You could get quite good at his couldn’t you?” She said with a smile. “I think I’d like to go to bed now Peter, please.”

“Up you get then,” Peter said as he helped her to get up. She pulled up her trousers and gently rubbed her bottom and then started to walk up the stairs. Peter escorted her to her room and helped her strip off. He offered to rub some more cream in but Caro felt that she would be OK if she could just get a good night’s sleep. He bade her good night and gave her a kiss and cuddle. She then lay on her front and he gently put a duvet on top of her. He went to bed as well, setting his alarm for eight o’clock.

Eight o’clock and Peter went straight into his shower and quickly did his ablutions. He felt wide awake as he peeped in on Caro who was still asleep, laying on her tummy, snoring gently. Peter went downstairs to the kitchen and put on the kettle and also a percolator of Coffee.

The aroma of coffee percolating must have permeated upstairs as Caro called out: “Peter?”

“Yes Caro. I am in the kitchen. Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea please, no sugar, just a dash of milk. I like my tea like my men; dark and strong.”

Peter was glad that Caro seemed to be OK with her sense of humour not impaired as he took up a tray with a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits. He entered the bedroom, having knocked on the door and being told to come in, and put the tray on a bedside table.

“How are you this morning Caro?”

“Better I think Peter. Sleeping on my tummy seems to be becoming a habit.”

“So is having a sore bottom,” quipped Peter with a laugh in his voice.

Caro turned the duvet back and looked over her shoulder to see that the stripes had largely faded apart from the two that landed low down and the stroke that crossed other stripes where small blisters appeared to have formed.

“Would you like me to put some more cream on your bottom Caro? I would certainly enjoy doing it.” Said Peter as he tried to hide the sight of his growing erection.

“I bet you would enjoy it but can I have another shower first please, then I will gladly go over your knee, bare bottomed. That shows my trust in you doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, it certainly does Caro. I’ll get you a fresh towel.”

“Don’t bother Peter, I can use the one I used last night. It will have dried by now.”

“If you’re sure Caro. It is no bother.”

“No just go to your bedroom and I will come in straight after my shower,” she said in a determined voice.

She showered carefully, smoothing gel gently across her bottom. ‘Be worse than this next week,’ she thought. She was seriously not looking forward to Monday night.

She dried herself and then padded naked to Peter’s bedroom where she gave him a twirl showing off the few stripes remaining.

“Oh my goodness! You look stunning this morning,” he said. “Now over my knee young lady.”

“Oh, I love the way you say that Peter. So, so dominant.” said Caro as she eased herself over his lap. She was purring with delight as he gently rubbed her bottom. She interspersed little oohs as he made contact with the sorest parts. That was when she wriggled and you can imagine the effect that had on Peter’s erection.

Peter gently applied cream to the sore spots before he asked if that was OK.

“Oooh! Yes thanks,” she murmured.

He slapped her bottom gently and said: “OK Caro get up and get dressed and I’ll take you to breakfast and then home. I need to go into Bournemouth and see my bank manager about a couple of things.”

“OK Peter. I have a few things to sort out before we go tomorrow. I am going to be out until Monday so need to run the hoover round and do a bit of washing and sort out clothes for Scotland and the boat trip.”

“Just casual for the boat trip Caro.”

Caro got dressed in the loose skirt she had brought and slipped on the brief little panties. She squealed out loud as the elastic on the legs bit into her stripes.

“Are you OK Caro?” Asked a concerned Peter.

“Yes fine. Just got a bit careless putting my pants on.”

“Maybe you should just stop wearing pants,” said Peter.

“What all the time or just when I am with you?” She asked.

“Well certainly when I am with you. Then I could just flip up your skirt and slap a bare bottom.”

“Oh you devil. Imagine if we were in a bar and I said something out of order, as if I would, I know, and you lifted my skirt and gave me a slap. What would people think?” She said.

“I know what I would think,” said Peter.

“What would you think?” She asked.

“I would think there is a man after my own heart and there is a naughty girl getting a foretaste of what was to come later.”

“Mmm!” She said quietly.

“Come on Caro. Let’s go for breakfast at the Haven. We will have a lovely view while we eat.”

Caro got her stuff together and they set off in Peter’s car to Sandbanks. The Haven is right on the tip of the Sandbanks peninsula just by the chain ferry which takes you to where Caro and Peter first met just two days ago. It gave them something to think about as they tucked into their breakfasts.

They agreed to go their own ways that day and would meet in the morning. Peter said he would pick her up at six o’clock since they needed to be at the airport by Six thirty. Caro questioned the time but Peter said at that time of the morning they would fly through. Caro was unconvinced so Peter agreed to make it five thirty. She was happy then.

They finished breakfast and after Caro had been to the ladies room Peter took her home to Westbourne. He dropped her off outside the flat and waited while she let herself in. Just as she opened the door she quickly flipped up her skirt showing a brief glimpse of a bare bottom.

Peter thought: ‘Cheeky minx. Must have taken them off before we left the Haven.’ He made a note to himself to have words with her tomorrow.

The day passed peacefully enough and at eight o’clock Caro phoned Peter to say she was getting an early night and would see him in the morning.

He replied: “OK Caro. And that was a very cheeky way of saying goodbye this morning. You are very brazen you know.”

“I thought you would enjoy the view,” she said giggling away.

“I am looking forward to having a closer view tomorrow,” he replied. “Goodnight Caro. Sleep tight.”

“’Night Peter. Love you,” she said.

Peter was stunned. He went to bed a very happy but very confused man. How could all this have happened in just forty-eight hours or so. There he was having a nice early suntan break and an innocent chat up to a pretty girl alone on the beach. Wow!

So he packed his bag for tomorrow and then he too got an early night and awoke as fresh as a daisy at five o’clock. So up he got, quick race through the bathroom and then the ten minute drive to Caro’s place where she was waiting just inside the foyer.

She ran to the car, threw her case onto the back seat and gave Peter a welcoming kiss.

They set off having reassured each other that they were all good, had tickets etc, and they arrived at the airport at just before six. Less than thirty minutes as Peter had said they would.

They checked in and then got a couple of cups of tea. Peter went and bought a Financial Times and a Sun newspaper. Caro took one look at the papers he had bought and went to the news stand to buy herself that day’s copy of the Independent, a far more readable paper than the Sun. Caro had a very low opinion of the Sun newspaper and its page three pictures.

Peter was a bit surprised at the attitude of Caro to the newspaper and made some comment.

“If you want to see a pair of tits, just wait until we get booked in and then I will show you tits, bum and fanny.”

“Wow Caro. I didn’t know you had such strong feelings,” Peter said to her.

“And I didn’t think you would be so low brow Peter: Financial Times and the Sun, how incongruous.”

“Are you always this grumpy in the morning Caro?” Asked Peter.

“No! I am sorry but I hate that paper and the organisation that owns it. Shouldn’t take it out on you. Very naughty of me.” She said with a very coy look at the last sentence.

“You know what happens to naughty girls don’t you?” He replied.

“Ooooh! Yes Peter.”

“Is your bottom ready for another spanking?” Asked Peter.

Caro blushed. “Not really, but by tonight? Probably.” She said smoothing her skirt across her bottom.

“Something to look forward to,” said Peter, and the flight was called for boarding.

“For who to look forward to?” She said with a knowing smile.

“Both,” he whispered.

The flight was uneventful, and when they went to the Avis desk they found that the car reserved was a M3 BMW: Hot wheels.

They were starving so asked the Avis girl for a nice place to get breakfast. She pointed out on the map a hotel that she said would be suitable. With that they set off and found the hotel just a fifteen minute drive from the airport, and relaxed over a typical Scottish breakfast.

Caro seemed to be permanently on the phone so Peter took the time to study the map and plan out the route. Caro didn’t need to be at the St Andrews Hotel until late afternoon so Peter planned a route that, once over the bridge, was non-motorway; a much more pleasant drive, he felt.

They were soon on their way, and when Peter suggested the route he had planned she was in complete agreement. She suggested stopping somewhere for lunch at say about two o’clock.

Peter looked at the map and saw a name he recognised. Lochgelly!

“Caro,” he said. “Have you heard of Lochgelly?”

“Why yes, Peter. At least of the Lochgelly Tawse. Why?”

“Well it just happens to be on our route and probably we would be there near our lunch time,” said Peter looking across at Caro. She blushed.

“Shall we stop there then?” She asked.

“Yes let’s.” Said Peter.

“Did I see a little town called Auchtermuchtie on the way Peter?”

“Yes Caro. About an hour away. Do you know Auchtermuchtie?”

“Yes a friend of mine got married in a castle near there and she told me about a dressmaker there and I would like to see the shop. Can you navigate me there. We might get a coffee if you like?”

“Yep! Sounds good to me. I would like to get an idea of your clothes taste. I have only really seen you naked or nearly naked, apart from today of course.”

“I will let you know, my dear, that many people have told me I have excellent taste. One dear friend, a man, told me I could make a bunch of rags look like a Versace dress.”

“What was he after?”

Caro elbowed Peter in the ribs and said: “Pig!”

“You know what happened last time you called me a pig.” He said with a big grin on his face.

“Oh, Please. I was just joking,” she pleaded.

“Maybe I will just give you a joke spanking?” He said with a laugh.

They travelled pretty much in silence until coming into Auchtermuchtie.

“Isn’t this a funny little place Peter?” She said.

“There’s a car park just up here on the left.”

“OK.” She said as she slid into the space.

They got out and stretched. They walked into the town square where they soon saw the shop that Caro had been told about, and they went and looked in the window. Peter pointed out a dress he liked but Caro was looking at a suit that had a very modern cut.

“I think I will try that on Peter.”

“I’ll come with you if you like.”

“I hoped you would,” she replied as they entered the shop. She pointed out that suit and the assistant showed her to the changing room. In just a minute or two she came out. The suit was stunning. A light blue and it matched her eyes.

Peter said: “That looks great, Caro.”

“It doesn’t make my bum look big?” She asked innocently.

The assistant smiled and said: “No Madam, but it does show your curves. You might have an inch taken off the sleeves?”

“Could you do that urgently?” Asked Caro.

“Yes. I need an hour or so, but could do it right away.”

That was it. “I’ll take it please,” said Caro.

She settled up with the assistant and they went to a small tea room recommended by the lady in the dress shop and had a pot of tea for two. They whiled away the time, and just as they were thinking of going back to the shop a young girl came in the tea room with a package for the ‘English lady’.

Then it was on to Lochgelly. When they got there they decided to get lunch since every eaterie seemed to close at two o’clock, and it was twenty to two when they parked up.

They settled for a ploughman’s lunch with a bottle of wine. Then they went to find John Richard’s leather shop. They soon found it smack in the centre of town. Attached on one side was a small museum. Peter bought two tickets and they went from exhibit to exhibit. There was a curator who explained about how the town used to make virtually all the tawses for the Scottish school system. It was the standard punishing item. In the state schools it was almost exclusively given on the hands, but in some private schools it was administered to the bottom.

Miss Richards confirmed that it was excruciatingly painful wherever it landed. She had got it at home. It was now phased out in the schools, but she explained that though her dad had planned for the business to not make any straps at all, demand from the private sector made it a very profitable little sideline. The main business was for saddlery now.

Peter asked if they could sell him a complete set of tawses as a momento of his first trip to Scotland. She was delighted to take the order and while packing it up looked curiously at Caro. Caro looked back, smiled, and gently rubbed her bottom. Miss Richards chuckled as she handed the parcel to Peter and wished them a good trip in Scotland.

They made straight for St Andrews and pulled into the Hotel car park at four thirty on the dot. They booked in and a boy carried their bags to the suite on the first floor of the hotel. It was a beautifully equipped room.

“Oh dear,” said Caro smiling at Peter. “It only has one bed.”

“Shall I phone down and ask for a fold up bed?” Said a half-serious Peter.

“Don’t you dare, Peter Phillips. Do you remember what I said to you on the phone last night?”

“Of course. It took my breath away,” he said.

“Well it isn’t promiscuous to sleep with the man you love is it?”

“Not if he loves you too,” said Peter.

“Well, do you?” She asked with a smile the width of her face.

“Yes I do,” he said. “I can’t believe it happened so quick but there it is.”

He took her in his arms and embraced her, kissing her deeply. She felt as if all her breath had drained away, so strong was his hug and kiss.

At Peter’s suggestion they unpacked their bags and, as well as Caro’s new suit, Peter had his own package. Caro said: “Let’s have a look.”

Peter opened the package and laid out on the dressing table the three straps that made up the set. Medium, Heavy and Extra Heavy. Caro picked up the Heavy tawse and tapped it on her hand. “Ouch!” She said. “God that stings!”

“It has a reputation,” said Peter. “We had a Scottish teacher at my school and he always used a tawse on the hand. Most teachers used the cane on our backsides but we dreaded the Scottish strap, as we knew it, more.”

The room phone rang. Caro answered and said: “I will be down in about twenty minutes. See you then Jonas.”

To Peter she said: “That was Jonas, the Golf Marketing Manager here. I need to spend an hour with him. You can come if you want but I don’t want to bore you.”

“No thanks. I will use the spa and have a swim I think. See you back here at sevenish, OK?” He said.

“OK! Love you,” she said as she went to her meeting, leaving Peter feeling great.

They met up in the room at seven o’clock and Caro made straight for the bathroom. She showered and spent half an hour putting makeup on. She tried on the new suit she had bought in Auchtermuchtie and when Peter saw her, he gasped. He had, of course, never seen her dressed up and made up. He felt very tatty, even though he was wearing his best tuxedo and was really a very well presented man.

“Shall we go down Peter? I can introduce you to a few people. OK If I say my partner?”

“OK? I should say so,” he replied as he took her arm.

The evening was a raging success, with Caro’s charity benefiting to the tune of over eight hundred thousand pounds, and it was past midnight when they went back to their suite.

“OK, Lover boy. I am going against all my stated rules by taking you to bed with me. No limits. Are you up for it?”

“A challenge eh?” Said Peter as he literally tore his clothes off.

Not until he was naked did Caro start to slowly strip. This was driving Peter mad but when he tried to help her undress she pushed him gently away and said: “If you are going to make a brazen hussy of me then at least let me do it in my own time.”

“If you don’t hurry up I am going to bloody burst girl,” he begged.

So she hurried along a bit and then taking his hand she pulled him to the turned-down bed and lay down on her back and pulled him on top of her saying: “Be gentle Peter. It has been a long time since I had sex. I feel almost like a virgin, silly though I know that sounds.”

“Not silly Caro. I only went once to someone who I paid for sex. This was soon after Marion died and I needed to close that chapter. I haven’t had sex since.”

They gently made love with Peter fumbling about like a schoolboy, and Caro guiding him gently inside her. Her bottom was still sore so she squealed and wriggled when he grabbed her bottom as he pulled himself into her. He realised that he was not as young as he was and that making love still needed a degree of effort. He made a promise to himself to get fitter. He really wanted this relationship to develop and was prepared to make any effort required.

Caro was loving the thrust of Peter and, despite the soreness in her bottom, was glad he was on top and she could buck up and down in rhythm with Peter. Not surprisingly for a couple so out of practice, it soon ended and they lay in each others arms before dropping off to sleep.

In the morning Peter woke first and was initially confused by the presence of the beautiful Caro lying beside him still fast asleep. He moved carefully, making every effort not to wake Caro, and phoned Room Service to order a Pot of Tea for two. He turned the television on in the lounge area and quietly watched the morning news. Rioting had broken out again in numerous cities including Edinburgh where they had to go back to. He had planned going into the city and having lunch at the Hilton but now was revising his plans thinking of lunching somewhere in Fife and going straight to the airport. He would discuss it with Caro.

The Home Secretary was interviewed and when challenged about re-introducing corporal punishment into the schools she did not discount it and in fact said: “Numerous people were over school age, so perhaps the discussion about reintroducing it should include judicial punishment as well. Then you saw many females; should it be the same for females?”

This put the cat among the pigeons with the correspondents desperately trying to nail down the Minister, but to no avail. Peter rang James, his co-director, ostensibly to firm up arrangements for the weekend but, knowing James’s political connections, to get his take on the story. Significantly, James did not poo-poo it and then the tea arrived.

He heard stirring coming from the bedroom so poured a cup of tea and took it into the bedroom. Caro was stretching so Peter put the cup down and gave her a wake-up kiss. She grabbed him and pulled him back into bed.

“Let’s carry on from where we left off,” she said.

Peter pulled her to him and gently slapped her bottom, making her wriggle and squeal. She wriggled away from him, looked him in the eye and said: “Easy Tiger. My bum is still tender from your caning.”

Peter eased his hand from her bottom to her breasts and stroked them, playing with the nipples, Caro making small noises of satisfaction. As her nipples hardened Peter remembered old techniques and nibbled gently on each nipple causing Caro to cry out loud. Then Peter pulled Caro on top of him and she rode him like a bucking horse. It was fantastic for both of them. They came together with Peter gasping and Caro yelling almost as loud as when that last stroke of the cane was felt. They collapsed in a heap on the bed, arms and legs intertwined.

After a few minutes Peter phoned down for more tea. While waiting they decided without saying anything to share a shower. They squeezed in and soaped each other with Peter paying particular attention to Caro’s bottom, getting oohs and aahs from her as he found the most sensitive spots.

The tea was delivered while they were showering, so immediately they towelled themselves dry, then Caro poured two cups of tea. The news was repeating the pictures of the riots and re-running the interview with the Home Secretary.

“What’s your impression of that then Caro?” Asked Peter. “What do you think Caro?”

“Remember what I said to you when we were talking about the public caning that Dianne and Anita got? About the Government not having the bottle? Well maybe they have and are keeping it quiet. Do you know anything more then?”

“I do have contact with certain politicians and I know there is a strong feeling of despair that whenever they come up with an idea like this, it gets shot down by the Civil Service Mandarins, but I think we might see a surprise soon. But wait and see, eh?”

“Shall we breakfast here Peter? The food last night was excellent and I can put the cost on the room bill,” said Caro.

“Yes let’s. Shall we get ready and go now. If we pack we could get a porter to come and get the bags. Then we’d be ready to head off.”

So they did, and after a lovely breakfast Caro said her goodbyes to the other people from the presentation night and they were on their way back to Edinburgh for the two o’clock flight to Southampton, from where Peter drove back to Westbourne, dropping off Caro at five o’clock.

He said: “Shall I collect you at eight in the morning and we can breakfast on the Quay. James aid he’d pick us up in the Marina at nine.”

“Do you not want to sleep with me again?” Asked Caro.

“Of course I do,” he replied.

“So wait for me now while I pack. Everything is laid out ready. Then we could stop at your place and walk to the Quay in the morning.”

“OK. If you are sure Caro,” said Peter.

“I’m sure,” she replied.

The End