{ASSTR 05 C} Yorkshire Lasses’ Caned Asses {Big Billie} (F/ff cane sc, circ)

Yorkshire Lasses’ Caned Asses

By Big Billie

Author’s Statement: Big Billie is opposed to spanking and circumcision except for consenting adults. However, spanking and circumcision sexually excite him, so he writes about them. For more information, see Big Billie’s Author Profile.

My name is Fred Mullins. I am 57 years old and I own a small restaurant in the Yorkshire Dales. My wife Peggy was once one of my waitresses. She is a lot younger than me. I married her 17 years ago when I was 40 and she was 20.

Usually my wife and I can manage the business on our own. On Saturdays and Sundays, however, and on public holidays, we are very busy. Therefore, about 3 years ago we took on 2 young girls to work part time for us at weekends and at other busy periods. They were best friends and attended the Girls’ Grammar School in a nearby town. When they joined us they had just finished their GCSEs. They were both aged 16 and were developing into very beautiful young ladies. One girl, Mandy, was a tall, leggy blonde. Her friend, Sally, a brunette, was also tall, and a little bit meatier.

As with most small businesses, my wife and I work hard to make a living, and we are constantly anxious about cash flow problems. Shortly after Mandy and Sally started working here we began to notice shortages in the till. The amounts were not great, and were probably the result of our two young waitresses doing their sums wrong and/or getting the money from their tips (which, of course, they are entitled to keep) mixed up with the till receipts.

The girls were, except for this problem, very good waitresses. They added a much needed extra dimension of youth, beauty and glamour to the place, and they were very popular with the customers. I, therefore, took a tolerant view of the shortfalls, particularly since I soon grew very fond of the girls myself. But my wife Peggy was furious, even more so, I think, because she was getting older and she was starting to resent it when I showed any interest in younger ladies. She was also convinced that the girls were deliberately stealing the money from us, that we were being ripped off, and that I was being too soft with them.

For several weeks Peggy limited herself to balling the girls out at totting up time. Then, one week, we found a discrepancy between the bills and the cash in the till of over fifty pounds. Peggy was furious, and threatened to call the police. “I’ll put the law onto you two little thieves,” she yelled. “I’ll have you hauled up before the magistrates. They’ll soon slap you both into line. They’ll fine you a lot more than you have ever stolen from us, and then they’ll bang you onto probation for three years.” And she picked up the phone and started to ring 999.

At this, Mandy had hysterics. She promptly burst into tears and started yelling “No, no, no. Not that.” Ever the perfect gentleman, I pressed my finger down on the phone hook and told everyone to calm down. But Peggy was by now well and truly roused. She wanted blood. Also, from her point of view, she was in luck. We had just been having some refurbishments done to the place, and in the corner of the kitchen (where we were having this discussion) were the carpenter’s tools, together with the supplies of wood that he was using. Peggy strode over to the wood and picked up a piece of dowelling rod. It was very thin, being, I should think, less than the thickness of a pencil. It was also round in shape and about three feet long.

“On second thoughts”, yelled Peggy, “I’ve got a better idea. You,” she ordered Mandy, “Bend over that table.” All this happened very quickly. There was, I should think, only about five to ten seconds between the aborted phone call and the instruction. Before Mandy could work out what was going on, she had stopped crying and obeyed. Then, before any of us could figure out what Peggy was up to, she had lifted Mandy’s short black skirt. It was summer time and Mandy was not wearing tights. The effect of this was that I was abruptly presented with an eye catching view of Mandy’s beknickered bottom and of the backs of her bare, white, nubile thighs. Needless to say, I was stunned at this abrupt and salacious development. But Peggy did not stop there. Next she put the dowel rod down on a nearby table. Then, using both hands, she deftly curled a finger under Mandy’s knicker elastic at each of her two hipbones, and tugged her knickers down around her knees. Meanwhile, as she did this, I was projected swiftly and violently into a state of profound shock and sexual overexcitement as I gawped and leered helplessly at Mandy’s young, naked female arse and fanny.

Then, again before I had time to take it all in, Peggy administered her coup de grace. Swish, crack! Swish, crack! Swish, crack! She brought down the dowel rod, very hard, across Mandy’s bare, plump, meaty bottom. Mandy took a full six of the best. The cane bit into the fleshy meat of her backside with a series of sharp pistol like cracks, and at each crack Mandy gave out a little scream of pain. Angry as she was, Peggy still had the presence of mind to pause for several seconds between each cut of the cane to give Mandy’s bottom time to feel the full effect of each stroke. She also bunched the cuts closely together right across the plumpest and meatiest part of Mandy’s rump, just above the tops of her thighs, where her pubic hair sprouted backwards from her crotch in luxuriant profusion. By the time Peggy had administered the sixth cut Mandy’s bare, nubile bum was sporting six deep, livid red weals, already beginning to turn blue. These were positioned right slap across the back of her big, hairy twat and, even more stimulating for the excited male observer, the six cuts were so closely bunched together that they had landed on top of one another, all biting into exactly the same piece of arse and causing incremental ridges and indentations. The total effect was wicked! Wow, but was Mandy’s big bare nubile bum well whipped! God, but I bet her fanny meat was tingling, stinging and throbbing! The sharp, sudden pain must have been almost unbearably excruciating!

Peggy, completely out of control, was about to continue with the punishment. Meanwhile, I was by now in a state of complete shock. From a condition of flaccidity my cock, within seconds, had leapt up to a condition of bone hard tumescence in my underpants. My heart was knocking violently against my rib cage, and my whole body was trembling and shaking. If I had not taken a firm grip on a table I think I would have fallen to the floor in a swoon. Then, struggling to get a grip of my quivering body, I lunged forward and grabbed Peggy’s forearm just as she was about to give Mandy her seventh cut. “No, love” I said breathlessly, “That’s enough.” Peggy flashed me an angry glare for several seconds. Then she reluctantly lowered her cane.

It took me some time to recover even the semblance of my composure. But I eventually managed it. I then told Mandy to get up. By now she was howling gently, “oh, oh, oh.” Then, before her skirt had a chance to fall back over her bum, she put her two hands onto her bare buttocks, one on each cheek of her bottom where it curved down towards her thighs and her crotch, and started to rub herself vigorously, across the back of her fanny, in an urgent, undignified and most unladylike fashion. At least, however, the sudden shock of her sharp and unexpected punishment had pulled her out of her hysterics, and she was no longer weeping or hyperventilating.

Then Peggy turned to Sally. “Right, you next” she said abruptly, pointing to the table. I suppose that I should at this point have called a halt to the proceedings. But I was gripped and fascinated, as any dirty old man would have been, by what was happening and, in any case, given that Mandy had taken the cane (rightly or wrongly), I thought it was only just that Sally should too. But I had my doubts that Sally would submit, and I waited in trepidation to see what would happen. Sally, however, was only 16. She was still legally classified as a child and she accepted the authority of someone who was her employer and a much older woman. She was also, like Mandy, very frightened by the threat to call in the police. She too, therefore, bent over the table and had her skirt raised up and her knickers pulled down.

Then Peggy gave it to her. She was still enraged and poor Sally’s bottom caught it just as sharply as Mandy’s had. Swish, crack! Swish, crack! Etc. Sally’s bottom was even bigger and meatier than Mandy’s. As I leered lasciviously at Sally’s rump, I noticed that a thick clump of black pubic hair was sprouting jauntily from all around her young, but more or less full sized womanly quim. Sally’s pubic hair was dark, whereas Mandy’s was blonde, so I had an even better view of it.

Peggy caned Sally hard and, although the rod was only very thin, Sally’s plump nubile bum flesh, just like Mandy’s, was made to shudder, quiver and dance a jig at every stroke. Wow! The cane really bit into her big, meaty arse. Yet again, the six strokes were delivered at intervals of about four or five seconds to give the victim time to fully feel one whack before the next whack landed on top of it. Also as with Mandy, the cuts of the cane were closely bunched just above the tops of the thighs, right onto the plumpest and sexiest part of the bum across the back of the fanny hairs. Wow! I bet it didn’t half sting! “Aw, aw, aw” howled the victim as the cane hit home. This time Peggy stopped herself voluntarily after six strokes and told Sally to get up. She did so with alacrity, rubbing her bum in exactly the same way that Mandy had and, in addition, hopping from foot to foot as she frantically tried to massage away the sting.

“Right”, said Peggy. “Now get out. Fred will pay you off as you go.” The girls, still ruefully rubbing their smarting bottoms, went to get their coats and handbags. As usual I gave them a lift back into town, since it was late at night. By now I was stunned into a catatonic state by what had happened. The girls also were clearly shocked and were still wriggling, stinging, smarting and wincing from their ordeal. The drive thus proceeded in silence. When I let them out, however, Mandy asked me apprehensively: “Please, Mr. Mullins, does this mean that we have been sacked.” “No” I answered kindly. “I shall pick you up as usual next Friday afternoon. Unless, that is, you phone me otherwise.” As I drove back in the darkness over the moors I pondered on the events of the last hour. By the time I got back to Peggy my cock was as stiff as a poker.

On my arrival back I went straight to bed. It was a hot, sultry summer night, and Peggy was lying under the sheets with nothing on. I stripped off too and cuddled up next to her, naked. “Wow” said my wife as she admiringly squeezed my willie. “Old Roundhead is VERY over excited, isn’t he?” (“Old Roundhead” is one of Peggy’s pet names for my cock. It is a reference to the fact that, like a lot of men of my age, I was routinely circumcised shortly after I was born. I deeply resent this, but Peggy thinks it is hilariously funny and very sexy. From the time that we first had sex together she has teased and tormented me mercilessly about it.)

“You, young lady,” I replied, “are in deep trouble. You are in line for charges of sexual assault and actual bodily harm.” “So what!” replied my spouse. “Those bitches had it coming to them. It isn’t just the money. I’ve seen the way they deliberately tease you and turn you on, wiggling their bums and wobbling their titties in your face. And you love it, don’t you, you dirty old man. They needed sorting and now they have been. Wow, I really bit into their arses. Did you see what I did to them? Each one of them was sporting six deep livid purple cuts across the meat of her buttocks by the time I had finished with her. I bet they won’t see the back of them for ten days or more.” “Oh, God!” I replied helplessly as I felt my cock going harder still. “I love it when you talk dirty.” “I bet you do, you dirty old bastard. Now I’m going to sort you out too. Let me see. How far down the shaft is that nasty, ugly circumcision scar of yours. Yes, I can feel it now. Here it is, and the sentence is six hard snakebite twists.”

Over the years Peggy has perfected the snakebite twist around the willie as a devastating disciplinary instrument. She gives it to me to punish my interest in other women. It is always administered, very briskly and efficiently, as soon as she gets me into bed with her. It is identical to a Chinese burn, and she always makes me take it right on my circumcision scar. This is not only very embarrassing but also very painful. My circumcision was a messy job. My cock has been badly beaten up, and my scar is all ugly, pitted, pockmarked and vulnerable. Peggy grips around it from above with her right hand, and around it from below with her left hand. Then, grasping the skin tightly she twists her right arm clockwise and her left arm anti-clockwise, pulling the scar tissue in opposite directions for about ten to fifteen seconds. (I think I have the time about right. It just seems a lot longer!) “Agh” I cry. “That hurts, that really bloody hurts.” Then, as my protestations reach a climax, she reverses the procedure and pulls the scar tissue the other way for the same amount of time, while I, feeling very, very sore let out another intense scream of indignation. “One” she counts when the second tug is over. Then she gives me twist number two, and so on up to a total of between three and six while I lie there cursing, complaining, calling her a bitch, etc.

These twists really hurt. They make me sore and tender all around my circumcision scar for several days. But the amazing thing is that, at the time, they actually make my erection harder, especially when they are supplemented by sexy verbals from my spouse. This was what I got now, in between the counting out of the twists. “You dirty, filthy old bastard” muttered Peggy angrily from between clenched teeth. “Those little bimboes really turn you on, don’t they? I bet you would really love to push your stiff circumcised cock into their tight little fannies, wouldn’t you! Wouldn’t you just love to rub your ugly old cock, with its pitted, pockmarked circumcision scar, up and down against their red little vaginas? I’ve seen you sweating and drooling over their bouncing little titties and naked voluptuous thighs. I’ve seen you leering at their sexy little arses when they bend over. Your forty years older than them you filthy, lascivious old bastard. I’ll make you pay for your dirty thoughts. It’s all to do with that randy great cock of yours, old Roundhead, isn’t it? He’s already been beaten, battered and chopped and well he deserved his mutilation. And now he’s getting six hard snakebites. But it still isn’t curing him is it? By God, I’ll give it to him. I’ll let him have it good and hard. I’ll make him feel sorry for himself! He won’t forget what I’m going to do to him in a hurry! By God, but I’ll make him wish he’d behaved himself! When I’ve finished with him he won’t fancy getting up to anything for a few days. I promise you!” And so on.

The effect of all this was that by the time I had taken twist number 6, together with the sexy commentary, I was as sore as hell but absolutely rock hard. At this point, as I writhed around helplessly in my agony, ecstasy and frustration, Peggy nuzzled into me, opened her legs and slipped old Roundhead between her fanny lips, which by now were not merely moist but dripping wet. “You dirty old cock, you filthy old Roundhead” she murmured. “You’re twenty years older than Innocent Little Pussy. How dare you go into her.” By now Peggy was gasping rhythmically. “Oh, the dirtiness, the rudeness, the sauciness of it. Oh, the filthy, lascivious old bastard. Oh! Oh! Oh!” By now, as might be imagined, I was completely out of control. Old Roundhead, sore as he was, ejaculated wildly and uncontrollably into Innocent Little Pussy, and both Peggy and I ended up screaming in unison as we reached a shattering mutual climax.

The next Friday afternoon I reported with my car to the point where I normally picked up the two girls. Slightly to my surprise, they were both standing there waiting for me. They climbed into the back seats as usual, and I started to drive them to the restaurant. The girls seemed embarrassed and quieter than usual, and this gave me the chance to have a few words with them. I told them that when we got to the restaurant I wanted the four of us to have a meeting to discuss the question of till shortages and of how to deal with them.

Now I was very sexually excited at the punishment that Peggy had meted out to the girls. On the other hand, I was worried. If the law became involved, I mused, the least that we could expect to get away with was a highly publicised and highly embarrassing charge before the magistrates of sexual assault and actual bodily harm. The result of this would almost certainly be the imposition of a swingeing fine, plus substantial legal costs and damages. I therefore decided to be very nice and generous to our waitresses to pre-empt them taking us to the law, and thence to the cleaners.

As soon as we reached the restaurant I called Peggy to a meeting in the kitchen. Then I took a gamble. “Before we go any further”, I said, “I would like to check on how much damage has been done. Mandy, you first. Could you give us a report?”

I then quizzed Mandy on how she had got on since last week. She said that shortly after her caning she was sporting (as Peggy had predicted) six thin, deep livid red and blue weals across her bottom. Four of the strokes, she said, had landed in exactly the same place, so that she had three cuts on top of an existing one. These four strokes had thus formed one aggravated weal and had stung and smarted in the most excruciating fashion. That night, Mandy added ruefully, she had been forced to sleep on her tummy, It had been a warm night but, even so, the weight of the light blankets, and even of her nightie, on the chastised area of her bottom had been making her even more sore and tender, so she had been forced to strip off and sleep in the nude, with her buttocks bare and her cuts free to the air. She concluded with the thought that it was lucky it was the summer holidays, or her cuts would have caused major embarrassment in the showers after gymnastics at school.

Mandy is an open and generous girl, free from inhibitions. Her account was detailed, specific and most interesting. As she gave it I felt my cock stiffening up rapidly. I also could not resist firing a number of supplementary questions at her. In response to one of these, she told me that, although the ridges were now gone, there were still thin black bruises across her bum where the cane had hit home.

Then Mandy did something that completely stunned me. “Here, look”, she said, “I’ll show you.” Mandy had not yet changed into her waitress’s uniform and was wearing jeans. Not for long, however, because before I realised what was happening she had pertly pulled down her jeans and knickers and had bared her bottom. Then she started pointing to the marks across her buttocks. I was utterly transfixed, and enjoyed a sudden and violent sexual arousal. I felt as if my cock was likely to ejaculate a massive wad of spunk without ever having been rubbed.

In retrospect I can see that Mandy’s actions were completely consistent with Peggy’s complaint that our two waitresses deliberately use their sexy young bodies to tease and titillate me, to their amusement and my roaring frustration. This seems to me to be a cruel if saucy thing to do to a dirty old man, so perhaps they really did deserve their canings, and I had earned the pleasure of witnessing them.

But back to Mandy’s displayed bum. The first thing that I noticed with great interest was Mandy’s luxurious clump of blonde fanny hair that protruded jauntily from the back of her crotch. It was not particularly noticeable unless you were looking for it, since it tended to merge in with the fair, white nubile cunt meat of the upper thighs and lower bottom. But, when once your attention was drawn to it, it stood out very clearly! Then, just above this clump of fanny hair, across the plumpest, meatiest and juiciest bit of her bottom, were six long thin black bruises. These were closely bunched, and the four inner cuts had indeed merged together into one bruise. As she displayed her injuries Mandy bent provocatively across the table into exactly the position in which she had taken her caning last Sunday. By now I could scarcely believe my eyes. Mandy’s legs were slightly apart, and, through and beyond her buttocks and thighs, I had a perfect rear view of her hairy fanny and her labial lips and cunt slot, all of which were pushed backwards and upwards towards my astonished gaze.

Now Peggy is always teasing me that circumcision has caused the membrane on my cock head to callous over and become a lot less sensitive. But by now it was certainly feeling very sensitive, vigorous, active and engorged to me. Oh, wow, I thought to myself. I wish someone would give Old Roundhead just one light upward flick with a feather across what is left of his frenulum after the depredations of the circumciser’s knife. He would soon forget all about his advanced age and his disfiguring and desensitising mutilation. He would explode, showering semen yards into the air.

Next Mandy tugged up her knickers and jeans just as pertly and provocatively as she had pulled them down. Then she stood there, waiting with interest for Sally’s account of the aftermath of her caning.

Sally’s description was also interesting. She did not, unfortunately, display her bare bottom and bushy black fanny hair for inspection. But she did confirm Mandy’s testimony that the six closely bunched cuts that she had received from the cane had caused considerable bruising and damage, and had stung like hell. She added that she did not envisage being able to wear skimpy bikinis and other beachwear for several weeks. That was how long she thought it might take for her cluster of ugly black bruise lines to go away.

The end of my tale, I am afraid, is something of an anticlimax. After the girls had finished their descriptions of the after effects of their canings we went on to discuss what we could do to deal with the problem of till shortages. The end result was a boring one. We eventually came up with a better system of monitoring and control of takings. For example, from then on each girl kept a separate moneybox, next to the main till, into which she deposited her tips as soon as she received them. The new system worked well. But I for one was sorry that it did. I would have much preferred to see more 50 pound till discrepancies and more bare bottomed canings!

05 C Yorkshire Lasses' Caned Asses