Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Welcome to the world of Little Girl Discipline; a world where adults enjoy
strictly disciplining little girls' bare bottoms (and other places).
   I'm deeply humbled that every week tens-of-thousands of you read my
stories.  To the many of you who have e-mailed me, a special thank you.  I
am amazed at how global you all are with Western Europe, Eastern Europe,
Russia, North America, South America, the Middle East and Africa all
represented; it's incredible how many people around the world love reading
about the strict discipline of little girls.  I would love to hear from
more of you with your stories, real or imagined.  If you grant your
permission I will collect these stories up, anonymise them, and post them
as a "Reader's stories special".  I will always answer your e-mails, but it
sometimes takes me a few weeks to do so (if you don't get an answer, please
check your spam file).  Write to me at littlegdiscipline@mail.com
   This is the first of what I hope to be a series of Readers' Stories
Specials.  I did not write these stories, so do not expect them to be the
same as mine.  Personally, I think they're great and I hope you do too.  If
you have a story you would like to send, however short, I would be happy to
receive it.  A big thank you to Mrs S and Mr K for these.
  
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READERS' STORIES SPECIAL, VOL 1 (F/F, F/g, M/F, M/g, nc, spank, pedo, oral,
anal)
   Mrs S
   Disciplining My Daughter
   How did I discipline my daughter though?  With words!  I was never
allowed to physically discipline Anne as my mother, Delia, had control of
that aspect.  Anne's father (we weren't married) deserted us when she was
two-years-old and, to be honest, I was glad.  I knew he wouldn't have
approved of how mother and I raised her.  Anne's spankings started from
just after her father left; a few spanks of the hand to begin with,
progressing to more prolonged hand spanks and then the introduction of a
wooden spoon at the age of about three.  The strap was primarily used until
the age of five when she was given her first taste of a cane.  Oh, how she
screamed and wailed that first time as mother laid it onto her with me
having to hold her down!  It wasn't a nice thing to have to hold my
daughter down as mother caned her, but I soon became inured to it and even
began to enjoy Anne's squirming in my arms.  Mother didn't use the cane
exclusively at that time as she felt that her strap could get the results
she wanted, but did use the cane for more serious things.  From the age of
seven, Anne knew nothing except the strap to prepare her for caning, and
the cane itself.  Mother had a number of canes to call on: a couple each of
juniors and seniors.  Anne only got the junior cane until she was ten when
she had her first experience of a senior.  The senior cane was used only
occasionally until she reached fourteen when it was used almost
exclusively. Anne was lucky in that respect as I was twelve when the senior
cane was used almost exclusively.  The strap we have is two inches wide and
twenty-four inches long and about 1/4" thick.  It was my job as a child to
keep it well-oiled and that task is now Anne's.  Mother says it used to
belong to her mother so it has seen a lot of use!  When mother and I have
talked about discipline at home I could see that things have got easier
coming down the generations.  For example, mother says she was thrashed
every other day, whereas I would have been caned about twice per week,
although this could have been more.  Anne doesn't realise how lucky she is
that she might only be caned once a week or so, although she is very likely
to get a strapping in the meantime.  I've read in your stories how a girl
might be punished at school and then again when she got home.  I can
confirm that this is true, at least in our household.  Mother had got to
know a couple of my regular teachers and asked them to let her know if I
ever got into trouble.  The same went for Anne, although there were fewer
teachers who would be willing to report on her bad behaviour (or at least,
fewer whom mother could trust).
   My youth: Or what I can remember of it!
   I was born in February 19XX and, although I don't remember it, my father
died shortly afterwards.  A heart attack, my mother told me many years
later when I was old enough to understand.  As you can see, I only knew
life with a mother, but no father.  Both sets of grand-parents were dead by
the time I was born although there was an Aunt, my mother's sister, around
quite a lot of the time.  I have vague recollections of first getting
spanked by Aunty or mother at the age of about three, but it was probably
earlier.  One vivid recollection I do have is my introduction to the cane.
It was my fourth birthday and I seem to recall that I had caused some
trouble at my party.  When my friends had gone home, mother told me she was
most upset with me and that I would regret it.  She practically ripped my
lovely party dress off me, together with my knickers, grasped me around the
waist thereby pinning my arms and gave me a whipping with a cane that had
miraculously appeared in her hand!  I learned later that it was a junior
cane, just over two-feet in length and about a quarter of an inch in
diameter.  Aunt Joyce suggested that my caning hadn't been enough and that
I should also have a spanking with a hairbrush - on top of the caning! 
Mother agreed and handed me over to Aunty.  Aunt Joyce delved into her
handbag and pulled out a large hairbrush.  She sat herself on a chair,
hauled me, still screaming, over her lap and thrashed me anew with her
brush.  Being so young I screamed for all I was worth, hoping against hope
that someone would come and rescue me from the excruciating pain I was
feeling.  Of course, no one did come.
   I'm sure I received many spankings and canings in the following year
until I started junior school.  Naively, I thought things would get better,
but I often found myself in trouble at school.  The headmistress had a
cane, but she only used that for particularly serious offences.  She and
the teachers mainly used a slipper on us.  The teachers had to fill out
daily punishment records, detailing who was punished, the reason and how
many wallops were given.  This went through the secretary, who kept mother
informed of each time my name appeared on the report.  I didn't find out
for years how mother knew I had been punished at school as it was something
I wanted to keep to myself.  Of course, mother knew if I had been punished
and would punish me again soon after I had got home, but not with a
slipper. No, it was always a cane.  If I had received six wallops of the
slipper at school I would get twelve of the cane at home.  Even if it was
just two wallops of the slipper I would get a dozen strokes of the cane at
home.  In these instances mother would forego the usual strapping before
the cane as she felt my bottom would still be nicely warmed from the
slipper at school.  At the time I didn't think that was at all fair, but as
I got older I could see the wisdom of it: nothing would ever go unpunished.
   Try as I might I would find myself in trouble at school almost weekly,
although nothing that could be considered serious.  Of course, if I had
played up at home then I would still be strapped and caned for that.  One
day, Aunty Joyce suggested to mother that I didn't seem to be improving
very much and encouraged mother to be even more severe with me.  "Maybe
fifteen strokes each time will help her improve," said Aunty Joyce, "and if
not, try eighteen or even twenty."
   I didn't have to wait long for an increased thrashing.  We were having a
test at school and the teacher says she saw me looking over at the girl
next to me.  I denied it of course, but the teacher was adamant and pulled
me to the front of the class where she slippered me.  Naturally, this went
into the punishment record and the news filtered through to mother.  I got
home after school and mother was furious with me.  She told me that I had
cheated at school and I tried my best to explain I was just looking out of
the window for inspiration.  I started crying.  "I'll believe the teacher
over you any-day!" she hissed.  "Get undressed, and be quick about it!"
With tears rolling down my face I got undressed as fast as my trembling
hands would allow.  Mother picked up her cane and pushed me over the arm of
the settee.  "Don't you dare move while I cane you, Samantha, or I'll give
you extras." She started lashing that cane across my still reddened bottom
but after only two strokes I tried to protect myself.  "It's too hard,
mummy, please...  please!" I cried.  The cane lashed at my hands to move
them out of the way.  That stung an awful lot, so I reluctantly pulled them
back in front of me and mother continued caning my bottom and upper legs. I
was screaming and moving about so much that I'm sure mother continued way
past twenty strokes!
   Eventually I was allowed up and I did the dance that all well-thrashed
girls do in those circumstances.  "Don't ever let me hear that you've been
cheating again or it will be much worse for you.  Now get to bed and be
quiet about it.  I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning." With
that, I made my way upstairs, sobbing heavily, tears and other stuff
covering my face.  Into the bathroom to wash my face and then into bed.  I
managed to get to sleep later, lying on my tummy.
   It went on like this until I was twelve-years-old.  This was when Aunty
Joyce got hold of a senior cane and persuaded mother to use this instead of
the junior cane.  Oh, how that hurt even more!  Even though mother
initially reduced the number of strokes it still hurt like nothing else. 
It wasn't long before mother was giving me at least eighteen-strokes each
time she caned me.  "You're a big girl now, so you have to have a big
girl's cane!" Aunty rarely caned me in those days; that was mother's
prerogative, but if I had to go and stay with Aunty, or if she came to look
after me at home if mother had to go somewhere, then she would find an
excuse to cane me - and how!  It may only have been eighteen strokes
(mother's rule) but she laid them on extra hard.  Also, because mother had
said nothing about other spanking tools, Aunty would take the opportunity
to strap or hairbrush me first before caning me.  I'm sure she took
particular delight in giving me prolonged spankings with her strap or brush
before finally turning me over a chair or the arm of the settee for the
cane.
   I suppose I was about fourteen-years-old by the time I could take a
thrashing without moving around too much.  I found I could steel myself to
it and just prayed it would be over quickly.  Of course, I would still cry,
sob and scream when I was thrashed, but held my position.
   Both mother and Aunty Joyce were financially independent.  Wealthy
enough so they could live fairly comfortably and didn't need to take jobs.
They could do almost as they pleased.  I was a different matter.  When I
left school I went and found myself a job as mother's money wouldn't quite
cover the cost of me living at home.  This gave me some independence but
mother still kept a fairly tight rein on me.  I had a few boyfriends (only
after mother had vetted them!) and one night I let myself go a bit too far
(for mother's liking anyway) and a few weeks later I discovered I was
pregnant.  I had to tell mother.  She was livid!  She told Aunty Joyce who
came over straight away and I got the thrashing of a lifetime.  Mother
caned me first and then Aunty Joyce continued when mother tired.  It must
have been at least fifty strokes.  The next day mother told me to get Colin
over as there was a lot to discuss.  The outcome was that Colin said he was
more than willing to take his share of the responsibility for our child. 
However, that lasted just under three years.  He upped sticks and
disappeared when Anne was two.  He left a very brief note for me to say he
was going along with a cheque for ten-thousand pounds - for Anne.  I
haven't seen or heard from him since that day.
   So that's it.  The story of my younger life.  Enjoy it!
   A Christmas and New Year's Spanking
   The cast.
Name: Samantha, 44
Mother: Delia, 67
Dau: Anne, 16
Friends: Margaret, 68
   Alice, 46 (Margaret's daughter)
   Alison, 18 (Alice's daughter)
   Norah, 65 (Margaret's sister)
   Marion, 38 (Norah's daughter)
   Diana, 14 (Marion's daughter)
   Charlotte, 10 (Marion's daughter)
   Catherine, 8 (Marion's daughter)
   Cynthia, 30 (Friend)
   Dorothy, 54 (Cynthia's mother)
   Jean, 27 (Cynthia's sister)
   Pamela, 42 (Friend of Dorothy)
   Emily, 17 (Pamela's daughter)
   We are two families who get together once a fortnight.  We always meet
up at Margaret's place as she has a lot of room to spare in her big, old,
secluded house, and it's only a short walk to get there.  I should add that
Anne and I live with my mother and of course, Alice and Alison lives with
hers.
   My mother, Delia, got together with Margaret when Anne was five (and had
just recently been introduced to the cane) when they decided that they
should discipline each other's children and grandchildren on a regular
basis.  Both my mother and Margaret are very fit ladies who are more than
capable of inflicting excruciating pain with a strap or cane.  By the way,
the fort-nightly trip to Margaret's is in addition to anything that mother
decides to give me or Anne in the meantime.
   An evening together would consist of Anne and I being caned by Margaret,
with Alice and Alison being dealt with by my mother.  Of course, the cane
is a potentially vicious implement if used straight away, so we all have a
strapping first to get us warmed up for it.  The strapping is always twenty
strokes, but the caning is done by picking cards.  A set of cards was made
back in 2002 on which are written different numbers from twelve to
thirty-six in divisions of six (12, 18, 24, 30 and 36).  The cards are
shuffled and we take turns to pick one.  A note is made as to which number
is drawn by whom.  After every pick the card is shuffled back with the
others so that, for example, a thirty-six stroke caning is available to all
of us.  Every now and then a card is put in the pack with the number fifty
on it!  If someone is unfortunate enough to pick the 50-stroke card then
the thrashing is split over two sessions in the evening of twenty-fives
strokes each.  I've been unlucky enough to pick that card at least three
times a year.  I've seen Alice get the maximum at least thirty times; Anne
three times and Alison four times.
   Margaret and mother have a free choice of which cane to use on their
charges.  She keeps a good selection of canes ranging from a junior type to
some that are about half an inch in diameter.  The larger canes are rarely
used (mainly for 12 or 18 stroke canings), the favoured ones being a junior
or senior cane.  Mother has five or six each of the junior and senior canes
at home.  It is also the custom for the ladies who are being caned to be
totally naked while the two matriarchs are attired in everyday, comfortable
clothes.  I was told that it adds to the humiliation if I knew that my
daughter could see me nude.  It was the same for Alice.
   Let me describe one evening.
   I was given first pick of the cards and pulled out the number 18.  Not
too bad, I thought.  Alison picked out number 24.  That left Alice (36
strokes) and Anne, also 36 strokes.
   Once I had undressed, I said, "I'm ready."
   Margaret sat herself on an upright chair with a two-foot strap in her
right hand and told me to lie over her lap.  Twenty strokes of the strap
and my bottom felt really hot, but I refrained from tears as I knew they
would flow freely enough later when I got the cane.  "While I'm here Anne
might as well be strapped next."
   Anne took my place over Margaret's lap and got the requisite bottom
warming too.  Then mother took Margaret's place and strapped first Alison
and then Alice.
   "You're first for caning," said Margaret to Alison.
   Alison positioned herself over the arm of the sofa and tried to mentally
prepare herself for a twenty-four stroke caning.  Mother chose a junior
cane to use and deftly laddered it up and down Alison's bottom and the back
of her thighs.  After twenty strokes, Alison could take no more and
struggled out of the way of the cane.  My mother just calmly asked Margaret
to come and hold her grand-daughter down while she finished the job, but
giving Alison an extra six strokes for her evasion.
   All too soon and Anne had taken Alison's place on the sofa arm. 
Margaret chose a junior cane to whip into my daughter's bottom.  Thirty-six
times Margaret's cane cracked into Anne's bottom and legs.  I had to admire
Anne because she took her caning very well and mother wasn't required to
come and hold her down.
   Then it was Alice's turn for mother's cane.  Mother chose a senior cane
and I wondered if she hadn't gone a bit too far considering that Alice was
to get 36 strokes too.  Alice was screaming for all she was worth.  Even
though Alice and I have been getting the cane for as long as we can
remember, our mothers can still extract some pretty loud screams from us.
   I was next and Margaret selected a senior cane.  She took aim and
started caning up and down my bottom a total of 18 hard (to me) strokes.  I
was screaming my head off after about ten strokes and tears were streaming
down my face soon after.  The last stroke landed and I rolled onto the
floor clutching my blazing bottom.
   This is what usually happens for most of the year: One exception is for
the times when Margaret has her sister, Norah, come over to stay two or
three times a year.  Norah also brings her daughter and three
grand-daughters.  If one of Norah's grand-daughters picks a card from 24 to
36 then their strokes are halved.  If they pick either the 12 or 18 stroke
card then they get that amount.  Eighteen is the most any of the three,
including eight-year-old Catherine, will get until they are
fourteen-years-old when they will have to take pot luck like the rest of
us!
   Another exception, although rare (it's happened twice), is when we all
draw the same number of strokes.  On these occasions Alice and I will have
our wrists bound and long belts secured around our waists and just above
the knees so that we face each other.  Then our hands are hoisted up
towards the ceiling on a disused chandelier hook until we are just able to
stand on tiptoes.  This is when both Margaret and my mother cane us
simultaneously.  It matters not that we might spin round.  Many is the time
when we have had our hips and thighs marked by the cane!  It's the same for
Anne and Alison, although they tended to spin a lot more.  I once asked
mother what would happen - when Norah and her family were with us - if we
all drew the same stroke cards?  Mother said that was indeed a conundrum
and would ask Margaret.  Mother had her reply a couple of days later. 
Apparently, Margaret hadn't given it any thought as the odds of it
happening were high, but she came up with a solution.  Instead of being
thrashed while hanging from the ceiling, each of us would receive a
strapping on our pussies!  It transpires that mother asked how that should
be done.  Margaret informed her that the person to be strapped should be
placed on her back on a table top or bed and her legs held back and apart.
The bed might be easier as it wouldn't be too much trouble to affix
restraints around one's ankles and tie them to the headboard.  Mother
informed both Anne and I that we wouldn't be exempt from such punishment at
home if she felt it was warranted.
   One of the rules in this house (and I believe it's the same in
Margaret's and Norah's) is that Anne or I must ask permission from mother
if we want to masturbate.  If permission is given then we must do it in
mother's presence.  She will just sit there reading a magazine or book! 
She seems to know if we've broken that rule somehow.  Anne was the first to
find out what it was like to have her pussy strapped.  Mother walked into
Anne's room one morning and realised that Anne had indeed been
masturbating. Mother was furious!  I heard her berating Anne, telling her
that she would have her pussy strapped for wilful disobedience.  I was
called in and told to hold my daughter's legs back and apart.  I didn't
want to disobey mother so I climbed onto her bed and had to squat over her
head so that I could hold her legs as ordered.  Meanwhile, mother had found
a narrow strap to use (it was our old dog's collar).  Twenty or so lashes
had Anne writhing in agony and crying bucket loads.
   "Don't let me catch you again, young lady, and I won't give you
permission for at least two weeks now.  Let that be a lesson to you both.
Come with me, Samantha.  Leave Anne to her thoughts.  I'm just going to let
Margaret know how it went."
   About a week later, sometime in early December, mother told me that she
wanted to discuss something.  I wondered what it was as I was sure I hadn't
done anything to deserve a caning and I certainly had not masturbated
without permission.  I sat next to her and she started talking.
   "Samantha, as you know, I have never let you discipline Anne; that's
always been my job.  But now I want you to start having a hand in her
welfare.  I'm going to show you how to use a cane and strap."
   "But why?" I asked.
   "Because I'm not getting any younger and one day you will have to take
over my responsibilities anyway.  I think now is as good a time as any to
start training you to take over.  Don't worry, I still plan to keep you
both in line for many years to come!  Do you think you can do it?"
   To be honest I had harboured a desire to thrash my daughter for many
years, so I said, "Yes, mother, I can.  I know you will train me well."
   Mother smiled and said she was glad.  She went on to say that Margaret
had had a similar discussion with Alice and that she had also agreed.
   Then I asked, "But who will discipline me when you aren't able to any
longer?"
   "That pleases me, Samantha, that you should have such concerns. 
Margaret and I have discussed this and agreed that you can discipline Alice
and then she disciplines you on alternate fortnights.  By the time I'll be
incapable of caring for you, you won't need so much discipline yourself. 
When you get to a similar age to me you will have to start training Anne,
who should have children of her own by then.  It will be the same with
Alison."
   "I won't let you down," I said.  "Mother, may I masturbate?" She raised
an eyebrow in slight astonishment.
   "Yes, you may," she replied.  "Would you like to lay on the sofa?"
   "Yes, please, mother."
   She got up and went to sit in an armchair, picking up a magazine on the
way.  I stood up and quickly slipped my panties off and pulled my skirt up
around my waist and laid down on the sofa.  My fingers quickly found my
pussy, which was damp already.  I orgasmed in less than a minute.  Mother
noticed and told me I could stay there and masturbate again.  I smiled my
thanks and set my fingers back to work.  This time it took ages for me to
even get a satisfactory tingle going in my loins.  Again mother noticed,
but said nothing.  She got up from her armchair and came over to me.  I
expected some comforting words from her to help me relax but instead the
next thing I sensed was her fingers working gently next to mine.  This was
too much for me and I came once more with my juices flowing freer than they
ever had!  Mother kept gently kneading my clitoris for a while and when she
took it away I could see my juices glistening on her fingers.  To my
astonishment she licked her fingers clean, popping them one at a time into
her mouth.  She merely smiled at me and went back to her chair.
   I was feeling confused.  Nothing like this had ever happened before. 
Almost in a trance I stood up, retrieved my panties and put them back on.
   I went over and sat myself at mother's feet and asked her, "What just
happened?"
   "Well, I helped you masturbate, that's all.  You may not remember, but I
used to do that for you when you were very young.  In those days it was to
help you get off to sleep."
   "Oh," was all I could reply.  Thinking quickly I said, "Would you help
me again the next time?"
   "Of course," she said.
   Then, as bold as anything I asked, "May I do the same for you sometime?"
   She looked directly at me, eyes wider open than usual.
   "Well, er, yes.  I would welcome that," she hesitated, "but there is a
stipulation."
   "What would that be, mother?"
   She was hesitant again, but eventually she said something like, "I get
excited by all the caning I do.  That's why after I've thrashed you or any
of the others I like to get to the sanctuary of my room and, and..."
   She left it unsaid but I knew what she meant.
   Taking the bull by the horns I quietly asked mother, "Would you like to
cane me, right now?"
   The thought that mother 'got off' on thrashing me made my mind reel and
I just knew that I would be getting caned a lot more in future, not because
I had done anything wrong but because I wanted to please mother!
   She stood up and gave a one-word command, "Prepare!"
   I got up off the floor and once more slipped my panties off and then lay
waiting over the arm of the sofa.  Meanwhile, mother went to her cupboard
and came back with a strap and junior cane.  She wasted no time in
vigourously applying the strap to my bottom.  She seemed like a woman
possessed.  Normally when I get a strapping I don't cry, but this time the
tears came about half way through.  Mother dropped the strap on the sofa
just in front of where my head was resting so that meant she now had a cane
in her hands.
   I heard the whistle of the cane as it flashed through the air and then a
split second later pain coursed through me.  What had I let myself in for,
I wondered?  I don't know how many strokes I got but it felt like a lot! 
Mother sat herself on the edge of the sofa with her legs apart so I went
and knelt in front of her.  I could actually smell her arousal!  I let one
hand stroke up one of her legs until my fingers were in touching distance
of her pussy.  I let them stroke around, but not touch her pussy for a few
seconds before moving forward and finally touched my mothers vagina.  It
felt strange to be doing this but I didn't feel a care in the world.  Now,
it actually felt very normal!  I started working my fingers around her
pussy before gently pressing two of them inside her.  My thumb found her
clitoris and massaged it as I plunged my other fingers in and out of her.
She was squirming delightfully and before long I could sense her orgasm.  I
slowly removed my hand and saw that it was covered in liberal amounts of
her juice.  Just as mother had done earlier, I sucked my fingers clean one
at a time and made sure she could see me doing so.
   "That was beautiful, Samantha.  Really beautiful," she said dreamily. 
"There is something else you can do for me, though." She saw the startled
look in my eyes and quickly said, "Don't worry.  It doesn't involve another
caning." I relaxed.  "My dear.  Would you be so good as to use your mouth
on me down there," she said indicating her pussy.
   I don't know why but I didn't hesitate and moved my head between her
still open legs.  I used my mouth, lips, tongue and teeth (gently!) on her
and in no time she had a more powerful orgasm.  This now happens every time
she has caned someone, but in private.  Neither of us want anyone to know
about this - yet!  Mother did add that my oral and digital entertainment of
her pussy wouldn't save me from the cane when it was necessary.  I didn't
think it would and I told her so.
   "That's my Samantha," she said.  "So unselfish!"
   I thought this might be the time to mention a friend of mine at work.  I
told her that Cynthia had seen some cane marks on my thighs as I bent down
for something and asked about them when we were alone.  She put me at ease
when she said that she was often caned after she went back to live with her
mother, but that her mother had become too ill to continue.  Cynthia came
straight out and asked if whoever caned me would be willing to take
responsibility for her?  I said I would ask, but made no promises.  Mother
asked me about Cynthia, how old is she, can she be trusted?  I said she is
about thirty and yes, I believe she can be trusted.
   "Did she say how often she was caned or how many strokes on average she
got?"
   "She said the frequency ranged from a few days to a few weeks.  As for
how many, that all depended on what she had done, but she did tell me about
what happened after she had crashed her car a few years ago.  She was tied
over what she called a caning trestle and given about sixty strokes with
four or five different sized canes.  That was followed by some thirty
wallops with a bathbrush.  After that she had to stand for a couple of
hours holding a 5p piece to the wall with her nose!  If she dropped it,
that meant three strokes with the cane.  She couldn't remember exactly how
many times she dropped it but thought it somewhere close to ten times.  Oh,
mother.  Can you imagine such a thing, especially after a good thrashing
like that?"
   "Yes, I can," said mother.  "You or Anne would have got the same sort of
thing if either of you had done something like that."
   "Cynthia also told me what happened after her case had gone to court. 
Her thrashing was worse, even though the cane was used a bit less.  Her
mother has a martinet which was used on her breasts and pussy.  That was in
addition to her caning and another round with the bathbrush.  She said she
was most contrite after that, but it didn't last long.  A matter of two
weeks or so.  I should tell you that I told her about some of the times you
punish me, and also when we go to Margaret's, although I didn't mention any
names.  She knows that both you and Margaret always strap us before the
caning starts."
   "I'll have to make my own mind up about her, so why don't you invite her
round on Friday evening.  I'll talk to her and make any decision after
that. However, if I do agree to take her on, so to speak, then I will be
taking on board the various ways her mother disciplined her.  Be warned!"
   "Thank you, mother," I said as I once more let my fingers slide up her
thigh.  I brought her to another orgasm and then went to phone Cynthia.
   Cynthia thanked me profusely for arranging the meeting with mother and
told me to tell mother that she wouldn't be disappointed in any way.  I
said I would and told Cynthia that it would be just the three of us on
Friday as I would make sure my daughter would be out of the way.  I added
that there will be plenty of time for her to meet Anne if mother approved
the request.  Cynthia was expressing her gratitude as she hung up the
phone.
   I passed on Cynthia's message to mother who just said, "We'll see."
   The days passed and finally Friday arrived.  I saw Cynthia at work and
she looked so cheerful; really excited to be given the chance of renewing
her discipline.  We left work separately as she wanted to pop home to
freshen up and change out of her work clothes.  I told her not to wear
anything too extravagant and to just be herself.  At 7pm on the dot, the
doorbell rang and I went to answer it.
   I showed Cynthia into the lounge and asked, "Tea or coffee?"
   She said she would prefer a glass of water as her mouth was rather dry.
The reason was obvious, so I went and got her water and tea for mother and
myself.  Mother came in as I brought the drinks in and set them on the
table.
   "Good evening, Cynthia.  I'm Delia.  It's nice to meet you."
   "Likewise," said Cynthia.
   "Samantha tells me you're looking for someone to take over the
discipline that your mother is now unable to give you.  Is that correct?"
   "Yes, it is.  As Samantha has hopefully told you, my mother, Dorothy,
used to keep me on my toes with some, dare I say, harsh discipline?  To be
fair, mum did give me the chance to opt out but that would have meant
having to find somewhere else to live, which would have been beyond my
means.  Her home, her rules, she told me.  Naturally, I chose to stay with
mum."
   "I see," said mother.  "How long is it since your last thrashing?"
   "Well over a year now," said Cynthia looking rather downcast.
   "Far too long to wait," said mother smiling.  "But before I decide
whether or not to take you on I want to know about your mother and some
other things.  Does she know that you're here this evening?"
   "Yes, I told her about meeting you."
   "Good," said mother.  "Another thing, were you and your sister the only
ones she disciplined?"
   "Oh, no," replied Cynthia.  "Mum had a couple of people who came to see
her every week.  I know this because on a few occasions mum would cane me
alongside those ladies.  I believe there were others too, but I was out
when they might have come round."
   "I understand," said mother.  "May I ask what your plans are for
tomorrow?"
   Cynthia looked a bit flustered but replied, "I've got nothing arranged.
May I ask what you have in mind?"
   "As I said earlier, you've had to wait far too long, so what about now
to recommence the discipline you so obviously yearn for?"
   Poor Cynthia looked at me and then at mother and back again a few times,
perhaps not believing what she had just heard.
   "Er, er...  Yes.  Now would be perfect," said Cynthia.  "How do you want
me?  I believe there is a strapping first?"
   "That's right, a strapping to begin with.  In this household whoever is
to be thrashed has to be totally nude.  Are you comfortable with that, not
that it matters because if you don't undress then you won't be disciplined
now or at any time in the future by me."
   "That's fine," said Cynthia.  "It was how mum did things."
   "Now," said mother.  "When I cane you I will continue until I think
you've had enough.  I have no doubt that you have been caned on the back of
your thighs before so don't fret when that happens.  If at any time during
your caning you move or attempt to evade me then I will tell Samantha to
come and hold you down.  No matter what happens, you will be thrashed to my
satisfaction this evening.  You will now give your permission for this to
happen by undressing.  This permission is not only for this evening but for
future times as well.  Is this understood?"
   "Perfectly," said Cynthia.
   Cynthia started unbuttoning her shirt, shrugged it off her shoulders and
then took her bra off.  Next came her skirt, shoes and panties.  I think
both mother and I were surprised that her pussy was as bald as a young
girl's!  Mother commented on it and Cynthia just said it had been her
mother's idea some years ago.  Nowadays it was something she had become
very accustomed to.  Not only did it feel nice but it was also more
hygienic.  Mother looked at me in a certain way and I sort of knew what she
had planned for me!  While Cynthia was undressing, I brought an upright
chair to the middle of the floor along with the strap.  I had placed the
chair in such a way that I could get an uninterrupted view of proceedings
from where I was going to sit.  Mother sat down and picked up the strap and
then invited Cynthia to get in position.  Cynthia was obviously well
trained as she settled into position very quickly and mother didn't need to
adjust either of their positions.  The strapping started and I could see
that Cynthia had indeed been waiting too long for this.  She jerked nicely
and it wasn't long before the tears began to flow.
   "You may stand up, but no touching yourself," said mother.
   Cynthia stood up on shaky legs, hands to her side and looking straight
ahead.  She took a few big sniffs but calmed down very quickly.  Mother got
up from the chair and went to her cupboard and withdrew a junior cane.
   "I believe you have some sort of trestle over which you are thrashed?"
   "Yes, that's correct," said Cynthia.
   "I don't have such a device but have found over the years that the arm
of the sofa is as good a place as any.  Go and lie over that arm," said
mother indicating with her cane where Cynthia should go.
   My friend did as she was told.  She laid herself on the arm of the sofa,
bottom well raised, feet about eighteen inches apart, waiting for mother to
begin.  Mother swished the cane through the air a couple of times and I saw
Cynthia wince slightly.  I knew it was going to be very painful but I
consoled myself with the knowledge that it's what my friend wants.  The
cane was tapped across Cynthia's bottom twice and then drawn back and
suddenly brought down smartly.  The crack as the cane landed on her bottom
filled the room.  All I heard from Cynthia was a sudden intake of breath.
As the caning proceeded, so the volume of Cynthia's gasps got louder until
they were almost screams.  I have to give Cynthia a lot of credit as she
stayed in place for the duration of her thrashing although I was a little
disappointed that I didn't get called on to hold her down.  I would have
loved that!  I think I counted around three dozen strokes by the time
mother put the cane to one side and told Cynthia that she may rub her
bottom if she wished to.  She didn't rub herself but managed to stand up on
very wobbly legs and mother told her to lie on the sofa for a while.
   A few moments later and Cynthia had regained some composure.
   "Thank you, Delia.  I really needed that.  Thank you." Cynthia even
managed a smile.
   "I'm glad it's done you good."
   My friend then gently ran her fingers over her thrashed bottom and legs
feeling the ridges and heat there.
   "If I may say so, Delia, you are as accurate with the cane as mum was."
   "I'll take that as a compliment.  Thank you.  Here, sip some water.  It
will help."
   I started to fume a bit as mother had never offered me a sip of water
after a caning, but before I could say anything, the door opened and in
walked Anne.  She stood stock still taking in the scene before her.
   "What's happening here, then?" said Anne.
   "Isn't that obvious," said mother.
   "Well, yes, it is.  Who is she?"
   "Cynthia is a friend of your mother's from work.  She had the need for
strict discipline once more after her own mother was unable to continue
giving it."
   "Oh, OK," said Anne.
   "Anyway," said mother.  "What are you doing back so soon?  I thought I
told you to not come home until nine-o'clock?"
   "I'm sorry, grandma, but the film was rubbish and I didn't think it
would matter if I came home early."
   "Normally, it wouldn't, but this time I gave you a specific instruction.
Why did you disobey me?"
   "I'm sorry, grandma.  I didn't think you'd mind."
   "Well, young lady, I do mind.  I gave you that instruction because of
what you see here.  Now Cynthia is probably very embarrassed that you have
seen her in this condition.  I think I should punish you, right now, right
this instant!"
   Anne knew better than to argue.
   "Yes, grandma," she said as she looked down at her feet.
   "Hurry up, then," said mother.  "Get ready."
   Anne started to undress and by this time Cynthia had recovered enough so
that she could lie on her side.  I moved the upright chair and strap back
to the middle of the room.  Before mother sat on the chair she told Cynthia
that she could get dressed.  She did so rather stiffly and I had to help
with getting her panties on and up.  Anne went and took her position over
mother's lap.  As usual, twenty strokes of the strap were delivered with
aplomb and just a few tears.  Mother told Anne to get up and get over the
sofa arm.  She did so but in no great hurry.  By this time, Cynthia had
gone and managed to sit in an armchair opposite the sofa.  She wanted to
see this as much as I did!
   "Wilful disobediance deserves strong measures," said mother as she took
a senior cane from the cupboard and swished it through the air a couple of
times.
   I saw Anne shudder as she heard the cane parting the air in the room. 
After fifteen strokes Anne started to fret and try and evade mother's cane.
Now she's for it, I thought.  Mother told me to come and hold her down.  I
did so, perhaps a bit more willingly than I should have.  Another three
strokes rained down on my daughter's bottom and legs.  Mother stopped and
then announced that Anne would get a further six for trying to evade. 
These were delivered with strength and speed rarely felt from mother.  I
had to put nearly all my weight on Anne's back to hold her in position.
   "Let that be yet another lesson to you young lady.  You may go to your
room," said mother as she returned the strap and cane to their places in
the cupboard.
   The cupboard doors closed and mother asked Cynthia,
   "Will you be alright getting home?"
   "I think so, yes."
   Then mother said, "The next time you need a good thrashing then please
give me at least two days' notice if you can.  You can tell Samantha and
she will pass the message on."
   "Thank you, Delia.  It's very kind of you.  What you did for me this
evening was everything I could have wished for.  More of the same next
time?" smiled Cynthia.
   "Maybe more," said mother, grinning.
   I walked Cynthia out to her car and helped her get in.  She thanked me
for arranging things so quickly and drove off.
   I went back inside and saw mother standing in the doorway to the lounge.
I smiled at her and she smiled back, gesturing with her head for me to come
into the lounge.  No time was wasted as we both knew what we wanted.  We
quickly took our panties off and I could see that both pairs glistened
slightly.  Mother sat on the sofa pulling up her skirt as she did so and I
sat next to her having done the same.  As one, we parted our legs and hands
and fingers started exploring each other's intimate areas.  I could feel an
orgasm building up and I could sense that mother was getting the same
feelings.  Just before I orgasmed mother took her hand away and pulled me
down so that I was kneeling in front of her.  I pushed my face forward and
began licking and nibbling for all I was worth.  Within seconds I felt
mother's orgasm as she bucked wildly against my face.  It took her nearly a
minute to calm down enough to tell me that she would do the same for me. 
We quickly swapped places and very soon mother was kneeling and doing to me
what I had done to her just a moment or so ago.  I orgasmed quite quickly
because I was in such a state of exhilaration.  It was also the very first
time I had had a woman do that for me.  My former partner, Anne's father,
liked doing it when we were together and I loved it!  It took us several
minutes to gather our thoughts and then mother said we should get dressed.
That was it; all over for the time being.
   It was the week before Christmas and another trip to Margaret's was on
the calendar.  The rain was falling as Mother, Anne and I walked the short
distance to Margaret's house.  We arrived and were invited in.  The rest of
the evening was pretty much the same as previously: Just the number of
strokes each of us got was different.  I was lucky in only having eighteen,
but it was with a senior cane.  I still can't make up my mind, even after
all these years of being caned, whether it's better to get a thicker cane
or a thinner one.  They are both painful (obviously!), just in different
ways.  One stings and one thuds.  Ah, well.  I'll leave it to mother's
judgment.  She (and Margaret) know what's best.  We left with an invitation
to come back for New Year's Eve when Norah and her family will be there.  I
looked forward to it immensely because it would mean seeing Norah's
grand-children again, in particular little Catherine.  I loved seeing her
caned, the way she would dance around, legs kicking and struggling when
held.  I just knew I would be asking for mum's permission to masturbate
when we got home afterwards, perhaps even while we were there!
   Just before Christmas Cynthia told me that she needed to see mother
again at her earliest convenience.
   I spoke to mother and she said, "Yes, that's fine.  How about Boxing
Day?"
   I said, "I got the impression she needed to come round sooner if
possible.  Couldn't we accommodate her on Christmas Day?  You know how
things get here and it nearly always ends up with at least one of us
getting thrashed?  I doubt it will be any different this year."
   "Hmmm.  Yes, alright.  Tell her she can come round Christmas Day
afternoon, but to be in time for the Queen's speech.  I have a feeling she
won't be the only one who needs a good hiding," laughed mother.
   I passed on mother's response to Cynthia who said she would be here just
before three-o'clock.
   Christmas Day arrived and I was up early to get the lunch ready.  Mother
and Anne were in the lounge waiting for me to come in for the exchange of
presents.  We have a tradition here that no one spends more than £10 for
each present they buy.  We all excitedly took turns to open our presents. I
got some earrings from Anne and some smellies from mother.  I thanked them
both with a kiss.  Then it was Anne's turn to open hers.  I had given her
what I thought was a nice top she could wear.
   "I can't wear that!  It's sooo last year!" she almost screamed.
   Mother and I were startled by her reaction.  Then she ripped open her
present from mother, who had given her a One Direction CD.
   "What the hell is this?  I hate them!" She obviously realised she had
gone too far and started to apologise.
   Mother calmed things down by saying, "Well, it is Christmas so I may not
have to punish this outburst."
   I looked at mother with a look that said she had gone soft, but then I
realised she would indeed punish Anne later, when Cynthia was here.  I
wondered if I should engineer something whereby I get thrashed too later.
I'm sure Cynthia would like to see me get my comeuppance.  Mother would be
rather busy today!
   Lunch was eaten fairly quietly and when it was finished, Anne said she
would do the washing-up, no doubt trying to lessen any punishment she would
get later.  At five to three, the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. 
It was Cynthia who was carrying a package wrapped in Christmas paper in her
hands.  We gave each other a peck on the cheek and I invited her in.  I
took her coat and showed her to the lounge.  'Merry Christmases' were
exchanged all round but I could see that Cynthia could sense a different
atmosphere pervading the room.  Before she sat down, Cynthia gave the
package and a letter to mother.
   "It's from my mother," said Cynthia.  "She would like you to read the
letter before opening the package."
   "Thank you, Cynthia.  If you don't mind, we'll watch the Queen's speech
first and then I'll read it."
   "Yes, of course," said Cynthia who seemed a bit nervous.
   Her Majesty's speech finished and the TV was switched off.  Mother
opened and started to read the letter.  I watched her face as she read it.
I saw her eyes open wider at places and heard plenty of 'a-ha's and 'I
see's'.  Mother finished the letter and turned to Cynthia.
   "Do you know the contents of this letter?"
   "Not exactly, but I have a pretty good idea."
   "Your mother says she is very grateful that I have taken responsibility
for your discipline and given me some examples of the punishments you have
had previously and some ideas for punishing naughty ladies.  She also says
that there are a few people who could also benefit from me.  I'm not sure
about that, but I will consider it.  I'll write back and tell her so.  It
says here that you have been a complete pain to your mother over the last
week or so and are in desperate need of another thrashing.  Is that right?"
   "Yes, yes it is," said Cynthia looking at the floor.  "I get stressed a
lot and..."
   "I understand," said mother interrupting.  "You probably need to come
round here sooner than I can usually accommodate.  I'll think about that
and let you know if the two days' notice I require can be reduced."
   "Thank you, Delia.  That would be most kind; or if it's more convenient
you could come to me.  That way you can meet my mother and discuss things
that aren't easily covered in a letter."
   "I'll think about that.  Anyway, it seems I'll be rather busy this
afternoon!  Three fine women to discipline," she grinned widely.
   "But you said I was forgiven," cried Anne.
   "If you recall, what I actually said was, 'it is Christmas so I may not
have to punish this outburst.' Please note the word 'may'.  I have decided
that you do indeed need punishing, as does your mother."
   I thought I saw a glint in Cynthia's eyes when this was announced.
   "Samantha, you will remain dressed for the time being but you other two
will strip off now."
   I wondered what this was about and then it dawned on me.  Maybe I was
going to get to thrash Anne or Cynthia; probably Anne.  Either way, lovely!
Very soon, both Cynthia and Anne were naked and standing with their heads
bowed.
   "Samantha!"
   "Yes?"
   "The chair, please," said mother.
   I got the chair and placed it centrally in the room and then got the
strap from the cupboard.  It was then that mother opened the present for
Cynthia's mother.  I couldn't see what it was as mother looked at the
contents and then slid it behind a chair.
   Mother sat on the chair and had the strap in her hand ready and waiting.
Then she said, "As you know, you would all normally be spanked with the
strap first and then caned, but today I'm going to change that slightly. 
You will be strapped and then caned one at a time.  Anne, come here."
   Anne did as she was bidden and laid herself across mother's lap.
   "Samantha, go and fetch a senior cane, please."
   "Yes, mother," I said.
   I pulled one of the senior canes from the cupboard and then waited. 
Mother started Anne's strapping and by the time she was allowed back on to
her feet there were tears rolling down her face.
   "Over the arm of the sofa," said mother and Anne did just that, "Now, as
we discussed some weeks ago, Samantha, you are going to learn how to use a
cane.  This time it will be a real bottom and not the cushion you've been
practicing on," she grinned, "For the very first time I'm going to permit
you to give your daughter a good thrashing.  I will guide you if I think
something isn't quite right.  Are you ready?"
   "Yes, mother.  I am ready."
   "Then let's get started."
   Mother showed me where to stand in relation to Anne and how far back to
raise the cane.  Oh, I felt so powerful just then.  My daughter's
discipline was in my hands even though that might be just temporarily. 
Mother nodded and I let go with a scorcher across Anne's bottom.  It went
right across the centre!  I felt really pleased with myself.
   "That's good," said mother.  "Now keep going until I say stop."
   After fourteen or so strokes, mother stopped me.
   "Try and aim a few strokes into the crease between her bottom and the
tops of her legs, where the cane will do most good."
   I knew the wisdom of these words all too well.  I gave Anne four good
strokes where it hurts most and then mother stopped me again.
   "That's sufficient."
   Her caning came to an end and she was allowed to tend to her bottom.  I
caught mother's eye and she winked at me.  I knew just what she meant.  I
didn't care that my own bottom would be in tortuous agony later!
   Then mother invited Cynthia over her lap.  The strapping was given and
she was allowed to stand up.  Her eyes had misted over and she was
trembling slightly.  Then mother pointed to the arm of the sofa and Cynthia
went and positioned herself over it, looking more nervous now.
   "Your mother has told me how she thinks you should be thrashed.  I have
considered what she says and have decided to more or less go along with it,
but with slight changes.  I hope that doesn't disappoint her too much."
   "I'm sure whatever you decide will be acceptable to my mother," said a
now trembling Cynthia.
   "Very well.  I won't tell you what you're going to get, but I do expect
you to take it without inordinate fuss."
   "Yes, ma'am."
   "Good!"
   "Samantha, be so kind as to fetch a junior cane for me, but don't put
the senior away as I'll be needing that a bit later."
   "Yes, mother."
   Mother took the junior cane in her hand and swished it through the air a
few times and then tapped Cynthia's bottom with it to get her range.  I
counted about fifteen strokes before Cynthia started to bawl her eyes out,
but I knew mother wouldn't let up that soon.  Sure enough she carried on
for a further five strokes before she dropped the cane on the floor.  I
thought to myself that twenty strokes wouldn't be considered a good
thrashing, as was proved a moment later when mother took the senior cane
from me.  Cynthia's bottom and legs, although reddening quickly, still
showed where mother had landed the cane.  The strokes showed up as a
ladder. I realised what mother was now going to do, and sure enough she
did. Mother used the senior cane to fill in the areas she had left between
the earlier strokes.  No one could fail to be impressed by mother's
accuracy.  Even Cynthia, if she could see what was happening!  Sixteen
strokes with the senior on top of the twenty from the junior and Cynthia
was in no position to do anything.  Mother helped her to an armchair and
eased her into it.  Cynthia was handed some tissues to dry her eyes and
blow her nose.  I'm not sure how she does it, but Cynthia recovered her
composure very quickly.
   "Samantha, you may now get yourself ready."
   "Yes, mother," I replied.
   It occurred to me that this would be the first time Cynthia has seen me
naked, but I quickly put that out of my mind and was undressed in a matter
of seconds.  The upright chair and strap were still in the middle of the
room.  Mother sat down and I promptly lay over her lap.  The usual
strapping followed and I was allowed up.  I congratulated myself for not
shedding any tears.  They would come in a few moment's time!  Then I was
over the sofa arm to await whatever mother deemed best for me.  I didn't
see mother pick up a cane, but when it was swished through the air I knew
instantly it was a senior.  I hung on for grim death as twenty-four strokes
were administered and then it was over and I heard mother saying I could
get up.  Anne was then ordered back over the sofa arm.  She just lay there
waiting as mother went and retrieved the present from Cynthia's mother. 
She opened the box and a large bathbrush appeared in her hand.  It was
about two feet in length and appeared to weigh quite a bit.  That would
hurt anyone, even without a strapping and caning first!  That's when I
realised that Cynthia might have suffered more than me over the years, not
that she would get any pity from me.
   "Cynthia, would you do me a favour and come and hold Anne's hands for
me. I think this might hurt more than one thinks."
   "Of course," said Cynthia.
   Cynthia went and knelt on the sofa where she could easily take Anne's
hands into her own.  Mother started walloping Anne's bottom with the big
brush and my daughter's screams were a delight to behold!  Mother only gave
her ten wallops but the effect was almost magical.  The brush covered
nearly all of Anne's bottom with each whack so I could only imagine the
pain she was suffering.  A pain I would soon discover for myself.
   "Your turn next, Samantha."
   "Yes, mother," I said getting really nervous.
   "And if you would hold Samantha's hands for me, please Cynthia?"
   "I will."
   Mother managed ten strokes for me as well and all I can say is, it was a
good job that Cynthia was holding me and to thank god it wasn't more!
   I saw Cynthia look at mother who said, "Your turn now, my dear."
   Cynthia got up from the sofa seat and walked round to the arm and lay
herself over it.
   "I want you two," she said indicating Anne and I, "to hold onto
Cynthia's hands for me.  This will be a lot more than either of you two
received."
   "Yes, grandma," said Anne who now seemed rather keen to be getting
involved with something where her own bottom wouldn't be in line for
anything.
   Anne knelt on the sofa while I knelt on the floor, each of us having one
of Cynthia's hands in our own.  Then mother let her have it.  One, two,
three...  fourteen, fifteen...  nineteen and finally twenty!  My goodness,
you should have heard Cynthia scream (it's a good job we have no near
neighbours)!
   "Very effective," said mother.  "Very effective indeed, but there is one
problem with it," she said as she examined the brush more closely.  "My arm
aches because it's quite heavy.  It might be more suited to someone
younger," she looked at me, "who has more strength than I.  I think that in
future I'll stick with what I know: My trusty strap and canes.  Would you
be good enough, Cynthia, to apologise to your mother that I didn't use the
other item in her present, but assure her that I will try it another time."
   "I will," said Cynthia.
   Cynthia made her excuses to leave, saying that she needed to get back to
get her mother her tea.  Mother asked for, and received, both Cynthia's and
her mother's phone numbers.  She thanked mother and I again and I helped
her to her car.  That drive home must have been very uncomfortable indeed!
I went back in the house and saw mother waiting for me with a twinkle in
her eyes.  'Say no more!' I thought.  Mother whispered that she had sent
Anne to her room and that if we were quiet it would be alright.  We crept
into the lounge and mother sat on the sofa and spread her legs.  I knelt in
front of her and it wasn't long before she was moaning in delight.  We
checked to hear if Anne might come down and then I took mother's place on
the sofa.  She had me in raptures in no time at all, most likely because
what we were doing was so...  what's the word?  Illicit?  That's as good a
word as any!
   Later that evening I heard mother on the phone to Margaret to wish her
and her family a Merry Christmas.  I also heard mother mention Cynthia and
something about three girls each for the three of them.  I presumed she
meant three girls for each of Margaret, Norah and mother to thrash at New
Years.
   The next day, Boxing Day, mother said she had to go out for a while and
wanted me to get lunch ready for 1pm.  I had no idea where she was going,
so I set about preparing lunch.  It was a simple matter that didn't take
much thinking about: mainly the leftovers from yesterday's turkey dinner.
Mother came home just before one o'clock looking very pleased with herself.
I asked her where she had been but she declined to give a straight answer
but said that I should wait until next week.  Then I'll see.  I thought she
might have been to see Cynthia and her mother.  Either that or she went to
see Margaret.  I would just have to wait.
   New Year's Eve arrived and both Anne and I had stayed out of trouble -
somehow!  Mother told Anne and I to make our own way to Margaret's as she
had a quick journey to make in the car.  Various ideas popped into my head,
but the one that made most sense was that she was going to collect Cynthia
and perhaps her mother.  And so it proved.  Anne and I had arrived at
Margaret's and were already undressed along with the other women and girls
about ten minutes before mother got there with, as I had correctly guessed,
Cynthia and her mother.  Margaret and Norah made a fuss of Dorothy,
Cynthia's mother, and helped her to a comfortable chair.
   "I think you will be royally entertained tonight, Dorothy," said Norah.
   "I'm sure I will, especially with so many lovely ladies here," replied
Dorothy looking at all the undressed females.
   "Drink?" asked Margaret.
   "Sherry if you have it, please."
   Dorothy was given a glass of the amber liquid and she sipped some.
   "This is how things are going to go tonight, Dorothy," said Margaret,
but loud enough so that everyone could hear.  "The thrashings will be
spaced out so that you will be entertained all evening long.  Each of we
matriarchs, that is Norah, Delia and myself will each see to three of these
fine ladies.  It's already been decided who will be thrashing who and and I
have prepared a list for you of their names and ages so you have an idea of
which one is which.  Now, you see this asterisk next to this name?  That
means she must be thrashed last, starting just before midnight and
finishing just after.  A caning from one year to the next!"
   "I've done that myself.  Quite a thrill," said Dorothy.  "Will all the
canings be the same number of strokes?  If not, how do you decide that?"
   "Simple," said Margaret.  "Everyone picks from a pack of cards we've had
for years.  The numbers go from twelve to thirty-six in increments of six.
This time though, there is an extra card with the number fifty on it."
   There were a few gasps around the room.  "Oh, gawd," was one statement I
heard.
   "Does that include the young ones over there?" asked Dorothy.
   "No," said Margaret.  "If they pick a card higher than eighteen then the
number is halved for them, except if they pick the 50-stroke card.  In that
case they will choose another card.  The maximum any of them can have is
eighteen.  A note is made of what number each one draws out.  I'll give you
that list when it is completed so you can act as president of proceedings
by announcing who will be next and how many she will get.  Does that all
make sense?"
   "I'm sure you won't mind if I have to ask any questions during the
course of the evening," said Dorothy.
   "Not at all."
   Margaret then went to each of tonight's participants and got them to
draw their stroke cards, making a note as each card was drawn.  When she
was done she took the list to Dorothy.  She looked at the lists in her
hands.
   "May I have your attention, please," said Dorothy.  "The first lady who
will be thrashed is," she paused, "Alice!  Alice, please come forward to
have your strapping."
   Mother took her place on the upright chair with strap in hand.  Alice
meekly came forward, her eyes already glistening and lay over mother's lap,
snuggling herself into position.  Mother took her time and then looked to
Dorothy for the signal to start.  Dorothy nodded her head and the strap was
raised up and then brought down with a resounding crack.  Time and again
the strap came striking down on Alice's bottom and upper legs.  A few tears
and a slight shaking could be seen.  Alice got up and took her position
over the arm of the sofa.
   "Now for the cane.  You will get, let's see.  Ah, yes, thirty-six
strokes." Mother turned towards Dorothy and asked, "Which cane would you
like me to use, Dorothy?"
   "Sorry, I didn't realise I had a choice in that."
   "Indeed you do," said mother smiling broadly.  "Let me show you and you
can pick one."
   Mother brought three distinctly different canes to show Dorothy; a
junior, senior and the heavy 1/2inch one.  Dorothy took each one in turn
and flexed them in her frail hands.
   "May I be greedy and suggest all three be used?"
   "Certainly you can," said mother.
   "Thank you.  I think fifteen with the junior, fifteen with the senior
and the final six with this monster," she said.
   "Your wish is my command," grinned mother as she took the canes from
Dorothy and placed them near the sofa so that they would be at hand.
   Mother picked up the junior cane and swished it through the air a couple
of times.  I could see the others (myself included) cringe slightly as she
did that.  Alice's caning started with some devilish looking strokes before
settling down to a firm series of strokes.  Fifteen strokes were delivered
and Alice was bawling like a baby, but mother ignored her and exchanged the
junior for the senior cane.  Fifteen further strokes were given firmly and
Alice was practically screaming the house down.  Finally, the senior was
exchanged for the 1/2inch 'monster', as Dorothy called it.  An appropriate
name if ever there was one!  These really had Alice singing and dancing on
the sofa arm, but to her credit she took it without trying to evade the
strokes.  Dorothy then asked Margaret if she was worried by the noise Alice
was making?
   "That's not a problem, Dorothy.  One can scream and shout without being
heard outside these four walls.  They are specially sound-proofed, you
see."
   "Thank you.  I did wonder about that.  I think we'll let Alice recover a
bit before going on to the next young lady."
   "Another drink?" asked Margaret.
   "Not yet, thanks.  My glass is only half gone."
   "Just let me know when you want a refill or something different."
   "Thank you.  I will."
   Some minutes later and Dorothy announced, "The next lady is Anne.  Anne,
please come forward for the strap."
   Norah sat on the chair and waited for Anne to come over her lap.  Some
tears were rolling down her face when her strapping was over but she
immediately went to the sofa and bent over its arm.
   "Your caning will consist of eighteen strokes with the junior cane."
   "Thank you, ma'am," said Anne.
   "You're welcome," said Dorothy straight faced.
   Norah picked up the junior cane, adjusted her position until she was
satisfied and proceeded to lash at Anne's bottom and upper legs.
   "Very nice," commented Dorothy.
   I noticed that the three younger members of our group were getting
fidgety, and so, apparently, did Dorothy.
   "Will you three stop fidgeting unless you want your punishments
increased!"
   "Sorry," all three chorused.
   I noted that she didn't say 'unless you want your *canings* increased'.
I figured that she had another idea if they played up again.
   Anne's caning was over but it was a good five minutes before Dorothy
once more announced who the next would be.
   "Samantha, you're next."
   Margaret sat on the chair and before anyone really realised it my
strapping was over and I was allowed up.  I made my way over to the sofa
and got myself ready.
   "You will get twenty-four strokes, Samantha.  Twelve with the junior and
twelve with the senior."
   I gulped but said nothing.  I think I took the first twelve quite well
and didn't make too much sound, but when the senior cane was used things
were rather different!  Within two strokes I was screaming my head off and
almost, but not quite, trying to evade the cane.  I knew I would be sorry
if I did try to evade it so I resolved myself to keep as still as possible.
Somehow I managed it.
   A few minutes passed before Dorothy announced, "Diana, you're next. 
Please come forward to be strapped."
   "Yes, miss."
   Mother once more sat on the chair with the strap in her hand.  Diana was
already crying but wouldn't stop mother.  Diana was howling by the time
mother had finished with the strap.
   "Get over the sofa, young lady," mother practically hissed at her.  "I
think someone might have to hold this girl down while I cane her."
   Margaret came over and said she would do it.
   Dorothy said, "Is there a problem?"
   "Don't worry.  Diana is often like this but she soon settles down," said
Norah.
   "Very well.  You are to have eighteen strokes with the junior cane,
Diana.  Take them well."
   Mother then lined up her cane with Diana's bottom and gave her a swift
six then stopped.  A moment passed and a further six were dealt out.  Diana
was screaming delightfully but she managed to stay as still as possible. 
Another pause and then the final six were delivered with a bit more
strength than the earlier twelve strokes.  I could see that Diana was dying
to be able to move and when she was told to get up she gave us all a very
nice bottom grabbing dance.
   "I believe it's your birthday next month.  Congratulations.  I also
believe that's the age when your caning restrictions are lifted?  From the
way I saw you react to being caned just now I have every reason to think
that you will be able to take a maximum caning with no real problem.  Your
sisters should take note," said Dorothy.
   "Thank you, Miss.  I'm sure it will do me good," said a shaking Diana.
   Dorothy smiled, no doubt impressed by her attitude.
   Another pause in the proceedings before Dorothy made her next
announcement.
   "The next young lady is Alison.  Please come forward for your
strapping."
   Alison came forward, got her strapping and was soon ready over the arm
of the sofa.
   "Your caning will be," Dorothy paused as if she had misread something.
   Dorothy called Margaret over and whispered in her ear.  Margaret
whispered back and then Dorothy sat back and Margaret went back to her
seat.
   "Alison, your caning will be fifty strokes."
   Margaret's grand-daughter choked and burst out crying.
   "I have just been informed that you will get twenty-five now and
twenty-five later.  As that is the case, this first part of your caning
tonight will be with the senior cane and later you will get the junior."
   Alison flopped over the arm of the sofa but she got into position
without help.  She knows too well what would happen if she wasn't ready.
   Norah took hold of the senior cane and lined up her first stroke.  She
let rip and it landed straight across the middle of her bottom.  Four more
strokes were given before a pause.  It looked as though Norah would give
Alison five sets of five strokes each.  Alison was really yelping with
tears rolling down her face before the tenth stroke.  Another pause and
another five strokes.  Five more strokes and Alison was screaming.  The
next five were somewhat less in strength (so it appeared to me) but that
didn't prevent Alison from continuing to scream.  The caning stopped and
Alison was allowed to roll on the floor as she clutched at her burning
bottom.  She did that for about two minutes before she regained some
composure and was able to go sit on her side on the floor near the window,
still crying buckets.
   Margaret said there would be one more thrashing before a break was
taken. That meant that there would be three thrashings to go, plus Alison's
second part later.  I'm so glad my thrashing was quite early on!  Dorothy
made her next announcement.
   "Next for what is no doubt a well-deserved thrashing is," she looked
down at her lists, "is Charlotte.  Please step forward for your strapping."
   The young girl started crying as soon as her name was called.  Margaret
once more sat on her chair.  Charlotte was jerking and yelping by the time
her turn with the strap was over.  She quickly made her way to the sofa and
got herself ready.  I saw Dorothy looking at Catherine who was getting
distraught as she would be one of the last three.
   "Would someone kindly smack that girl's legs for me, please.  She's
getting on my nerves!" said Dorothy.
   Norah marched straight over to her grand-daughter, grabbed her round the
waist, hoisted her into the air and smacked her legs about a dozen times.
   "Now!" spat Norah.  "Stay still and behave yourself or I'll ask Mrs
Roberts to insist you have the senior cane used on you.  Do I make myself
clear?"
   "Yes, Grandma.  Sorry."
   "I'm so sorry about that, Dorothy," said Norah.
   Dorothy just raised her hand as if to swat away a fly.
   "That's fine," said Dorothy.  "I've got lost on this list.  Who is that
waiting patiently for her caning?"
   "Charlotte," said Norah.
   "Yes, Charlotte.  Charlotte is to get twelve and I think the junior cane
will be suitable for that."
   Margaret picked up the junior cane and laid into Charlotte's bottom and
upper legs.  Charlotte was admirable.  Even though it was a 'lesser' caning
than the others she took it very well.
   Margaret rose to address us.
   "Time for a break.  Those who have been thrashed may have a drink and
something to eat.  It won't do the other three who are waiting any good to
eat or drink anything.  They can have something later.  Dorothy, would you
like a refill and what about something to eat?"
   "That would be lovely.  Thank you."
   Margaret brought Dorothy a glass of sherry and a plate with various
nibbles on it.
   "There's more if you want it," said Margaret.
   "Thanks again," said Dorothy.
   "You're most welcome.  I hope you're enjoying yourself this evening?"
   "Very much so.  I haven't had entertainment like this for a very long
time.  It makes me feel young again and, dare I say, aroused?"
   Margaret smiled at Dorothy.  Then mother went to her and whispered to
her (but loud enough so that I could hear) that she knew someone who could
do something about that.
   "Very kind of you, but my desires will be catered for later," said
Dorothy grinning.
   'Oh!' I thought.  That must mean that Cynthia takes care of more than
her mother's physical needs!  I smiled at the mental picture in my head of
Cynthia with her head between her mother's legs, lapping away.
   Margaret came over to Dorothy and said, "The lady with the asterisk next
to her name on the list should have her strapping no more than about seven
minutes to midnight, then we can celebrate the New Year half way through
her caning, and continue afterwards.  I'll be doing the caning so I'll have
a pretty good idea when it's half done and if I get the timing right
everything will be great."
   "Fine by me, Margaret," said Dorothy.
   "If you're all ready, the next young lady is Catherine.  Come forward
for your strapping, please," said Dorothy.
   The child shuffled to where mother was waiting for her on the chair.
   "Most un-ladylike," said mother.  "Get your bottom up here this
instant".
   Catherine took a bit of time but scrambled onto mother's lap.
   "With your permission, Dorothy, I want to give this impudent young lady
an extra five strokes with the strap."
   "Granted, of course!" said Dorothy smiling.
   Catherine was screaming within three strokes of mother's strap, but as
usual, mother ignored it and really walloped that strap into Catherines
bottom.
   "Goodness me," said mother when she had finished the strapping.  "What
are you going to be like when you get the cane?"
   "I don't want no cane," screamed Catherine.
   "You're going to be caned whether you like it or not," said mother.
   Mother looked over to Norah and Margaret who knew just what mother
needed.  Norah took hold of Catherine's hands while Margaret took hold of
her legs and positioned her over the sofa arm.  Mother looked to Dorothy.
   "This impudent girl will, with your permission ladies, get an increased
caning.  Twenty-four strokes instead of the eighteen she will be given, and
with the senior cane instead of the junior.  I hope this is a strong lesson
to you, young lady."
   The three grand-mothers looked at each other and silently agreed with
Dorothy's wish.
   "Please begin, Delia," said Dorothy.
   "Twenty-four it is," said mother.
   I could sense some venom in mother as she lashed that cane into the
girl's still tender bottom and upper thighs.  No matter how hard Catherine
screamed and wailed, mother didn't let up until her task was done.  Her
sisters were crying too, no doubt from fear that if they did anything
similar they too would get dealt with very severely; as they undoubtedly
would.
   Time was getting on, so Dorothy quickly announced that her Cynthia was
next.
   "Come and get your strapping, dear."
   "Yes, mum."
   Cynthia got across Norah's lap and got her strapping.  There were just a
few sniffs as she stood up and made her way to the sofa.  I looked at
Marion who seemed resigned to her fate that her own caning would start one
year and not finish until the next!
   Dorothy made her announcement.  "Cynthia, you are to get a total of
thirty strokes, fifteen with the junior and then fifteen with the senior."
   Cynthia just nodded and settled into the sofa arm.  Norah picked up the
junior cane and promptly began her task.  That cane seemed to flash in the
air and all I could hear from my friend was some sharp intakes of breath
and the occasional shriek.  Things changed when the senior cane was in use.
More shrieks turning into screams and plenty of tears rolling down her
face. I looked at Dorothy every now and then while her daughter was being
thrashed.  Her breathing was heavy but she had a smile on her face.  It was
a smile that I thought said, 'you are going to make me very happy when we
get home!' I had that mental picture in my head of Cynthia with her head
between her mother's legs again.  I smiled to myself because I hoped to be
in a similar situation later.
   The clock on the wall said it was just after ten to twelve.  Dorothy saw
me looking at the clock and she clapped her hands.
   "The last one this evening will be Marion.  Are you ready, Margaret?"
   "Ready," said Margaret as she sat on the chair.
   Marion promptly lay over her lap and received her strapping with no fuss
at all.  She walked calmly over to the sofa and readied herself.
   Dorothy then said, "You are to have thirty-six strokes in the same way
as...  I believe Alice is your cousin?"
   "Yes, she is," said Marion.
   "...in the same way as your cousin; that is twelve with the junior, a
quick break at the first gong of Big Ben, then fifteen with a senior and
finally six with the 'monster' as I call it.  Then we will all wish each
other a very happy and prosperous New Year before turning our attention
to," Dorothy looked down at her lists once more, "I'll get to know all your
names soon I hope," she grinned, "to Alison for her final twenty five with
the senior, er, no, sorry, I mean junior cane.  I hope you didn't think
we'd forget about you Alison?"
   We all laughed, except Alison who was looking very forlorn.
   "OK," said Dorothy.  "If you can space out the next fifteen strokes at
intervals of one every ten seconds we should be on time for midnight."
   Margaret looked again at Dorothy who gave her a signal to start Marion's
thrashing.  By the fifteenth stroke, Marion was blubbing like a baby, but
Margaret had timed it almost to perfection as within seconds of that
fifteenth stroke Big Ben sounded for Twelve o'clock.  `Bonggggg!' went Big
Ben.
   "Happy New Year everyone," said Dorothy.
   Everyone chorused back "Happy New Year" to Dorothy who then nodded to
Margaret for Marion's thrashing to continue.
   Marion took the swishing of the senior cane quite well but when Margaret
changed to the 'monster' it was rather different.  Marion was shrieking as
that cane whacked into her already wealed and bruised bottom.  She was
fortunate she only had to have six with it.  Marion was helped from the
sofa by Alice and Alison.
   Most of us, well, those who could stand up, were milling around amongst
the others wishing each other a great New Year.  I went and gave Dorothy a
kiss on the cheek, wished her Happy New Year and asked if she had enjoyed
it tonight.
   "Very much, thank you.  It's not everyday one gets to see so many
naughty ladies get their just desserts.  Add to that my knowing that
Cynthia will make me happy later on..." I looked astonished and I must have
gone red in the cheeks, but Dorothy carried on, "Don't look so shocked,
Samantha.  Your mother told me what you and she will get up to later on,
but I'll keep that to myself.  Promise!  Anyway, we older ladies still need
a release every now and then.  Would you begrudge us that?"
   "No, no, of course not.  I thought mother and I were the only ones who
did anything like that."
   "Lots of women your age do that, or something similar for their mothers,
believe me.  I've chatted to many people over the years who eventually
divulged that information."
   "Oh, I see," was all I could come up with.  "Mother has to cane me, or
at least see me caned, before we can do it together.  I know you can't
punish Cynthia anymore, and I'm sorry your condition prevents that, but at
least Cynthia can tend to your needs without a sore bottom!"
   "That may be true to an extent.  But up until I could no longer keep her
on her toes myself she frequently had a sore bottom when she came into my
bed.  Then, for the last year or so I relied on my memories.  Tonight will
be wonderful because I'll have so many memories of all the caned bottoms
we've had tonight, and Cynthia will come to my bed once more with a very
sore bottom," said Dorothy grinning from ear to ear.
   "Hello," said mother, smiling brightly.  "What are you two talking
about?"
   "About what you and Samantha and Cynthia and I will be getting up to
when we get home."
   "Oh, yes.  That!  I can hardly wait and I suspect you are feeling the
same?"
   "Looks like it," said Dorothy grinning again.
   "I may as well let on something.  I know that Marion will be sharing
Norah's bed tonight, as will Alice and Margaret!" said mother with a wide
smile.
   At that moment, Margaret came over.
   "Did I hear my name mentioned?  Not in vain, I hope!" she laughed.
   "Far from it," said Dorothy.  "We were talking about who will be sharing
whose bed tonight!"
   "What?  You too?"
   Dorothy nodded.
   "That's great!" said Margaret.  "Let me think a moment.  I'm working out
how many beds we have here.  Three singles for the younger children - can't
bring them into this - and one, two, three doubles.  Not enough, I'm
afraid."
   Mother spoke up.  "Three doubles, you say?"
   "That's right.  What have you got in mind?" said Margaret.
   "I was thinking that if Samantha and I went with Dorothy and Cynthia
that would leave Anne out.  I wonder if she would like to spend the night
here with Alison?  That would leave a bed for you and Alice and one for
Norah and Marion."
   "I know Alison likes Anne very much, but to share a bed?  I'll ask her
quietly.  Just a sec."
   Margaret went and called Alison over to her and I could see them talking
and Alison starting to look excited.  I suggested to mother that she go and
talk to Anne and find out if she feels the same for Alison.  She did and
came back the moment Margaret came back from talking to Alison.
   "Alison would love it," said Margaret.
   "Anne feels the same," said mother.
   "Sounds as though it's all settled then," said Dorothy, "Perhaps you,
Margaret, can tell Norah what we have planned?"
   "Sure thing!" and off went Margaret to find her sister, "All arranged,"
said Margaret.
   "I'll call back about 10 tomorrow morning, er, I mean this morning, to
pick up Anne," said mother.
   "Make it about 6pm, after tea.  Anne will be fine here."
   "Great," said mother, "Let's get ready to leave."
   Cynthia and I helped each other get dressed and then helped Dorothy to
get her coat on.
   Just before we left we went and said good-night to everyone.  When I got
to Anne I told her to have fun but, more importantly, behave yourself.  She
had a soppy grin on her face and assured me she would be fine.  I knew that
if anything untoward happened then Margaret and Norah could easily deal
with it.  Cynthia and I helped Dorothy get in the front seat of mother's
car and then we hopped in the back.  A bit too quickly in my case as I let
out a yelp as my bottom touched the seat!  In all the excitement I had
forgotten that my bottom was still pretty sore.  Cynthia grinned at me and
eased herself onto the seat and buckled herself in.  It only took about ten
minutes to reach Dorothy and Cynthia's home and after helping Dorothy to
get out of the car and into her house, we trooped in.  Cynthia showed us to
the lounge and invited us to have a seat.  We were given a drink and as I
looked around the room my eyes alighted on what looked like a small
vaulting horse.  Its frame was a dark stained wood and there was red
padding on top.
   "Our caning trestle," said Cynthia grinning.  "It's actually quite
comfortable when you lie over it.  Comfortable, that is, until the caning
starts!  Want to try it out for size, Samantha?"
   "Mmmm, please," I said and got up and walked over to it.
   I bent over it and grasped a cross member of the frame.
   "We don't usually have to use them, but there are wrist and ankle straps
if the caning is to be a severe one.  I think even a girl the size of
Catherine could be tied over this trestle.  How do you feel about that,
Delia?  Would you prefer to have to hold someone small like Catherine for a
good thrashing or to be able to sit and watch as she struggles against her
bonds over the trestle?"
   "Oh, I'm sure there are times when one is more acceptable than the
other," said mother smiling.
   I got up from admiring the trestle and re-took my seat, wondering when
the 'action' might start as I had a feeling that it wouldn't be limited to
mother and me and Cynthia and her mother.
   Dorothy broke the ice when she asked Cynthia to help her undress.
   As she was doing that Dorothy added, "Please, make yourselves
comfortable.  Remove all or just some of your clothes, but do be
comfortable," she was smiling.
   I heard Dorothy say to Cynthia, "Yes, love.  Undress me completely
please and then you do the same.  Oh, and if you would, perhaps you can go
and get some of our toys for us all to play with."
   "Yes, mum.  Of course," said Cynthia.
   By then we were all undressed and mother and I were sitting on the sofa
next to each other.  Mother didn't seem at all bothered that her breasts
were a bit saggy and that she had wrinkles around her tummy.  I was
probably in no better shape than her so I relaxed too.
   "Why don't you attend to your mother's immediate needs, Samantha and
I'll see to mum, then we'll take it from there and see what happens," said
Cynthia.
   I needed no further prompting and put my left hand on mother's right
knee and then started stroking her leg.  The stroking continued up to her
crotch and I could feel the dampness from her arousal.  One of my fingers
traced the outline of her pussy and occasionally touched her clitoris, but
only briefly on each circuit of my finger.  I left my fingers circling her
pussy as I reached over and kissed her mouth.  She responded wonderfully
and opened her mouth and we were soon tonguing each other like teenagers on
a first date.  Then I pushed two fingers into her pussy and started
thrusting them in and out before letting my thumb find her clit and massage
it.  I could hear Dorothy starting to vocalise her impending orgasm but I
didn't look as I wanted to concentrate on giving mother maximum pleasure. I
bent my head down and took each of her nipples in turn into my mouth,
gently nibbling them with my teeth and then went back to kissing her mouth.
I pushed hard with my thumb against her clit and she started to orgasm.  It
built up quickly and just a few more rubbing pushes of her clit had her
orgasming.  I eased off the pressure and allowed her to come down from her
peak.
   "Beautiful, Sue, I needed that," said mother breathlessly.
   I smiled at her and then looked over to where Dorothy was.  Cynthia was
kneeling in front of her mother, busy slurping away at her pussy. 
Dorothy's head was thrown back and rolling from side to side, obviously in
the throes of her own orgasm.
   When Dorothy had calmed down a bit, she said, "Chrissie, I wonder if
Delia would like your tongue in her pussy?  I have a feeling that Samantha
would like a taste of me.  How about it, everyone?"
   Cynthia came over and knelt in front of mother so I felt as though I had
to go to Dorothy.  I had only ever been with mother in this sort of
situation so I was a bit nervous.
   Dorothy saw the look on my face and sweetly said, "You don't have to
tongue me if you don't want to.  You can use a vibrator if you prefer."
   I smiled up at her and said, "No, it's fine," and put my hands on her
knees and gently spread them.
   Her pussy sparkled in front of me and I couldn't resist any more.  My
head shot forward and my tongue poked out as far as it would go and plunged
inside her vagina.  My finger traced the outline of her lips and I gently
rubbed her clit.  Her back arched as I did that and then settled back.  I
pulled my tongue out and licked her clit and all over her pussy before
mashing my face into her completely.  To any one else it would have looked
like a daft dog licking a window all over, but I was happy.  Mother and
Dorothy climaxed as one and I looked over to Cynthia and smiled happily at
her.  She returned the smile and licked her lips.
   Cynthia asked her mother if she could masturbate; and I thought that
only happened in our and Margaret's households!
   Dorothy was just about to answer when my mother piped up, "If it's
alright with you, Dorothy, how about Cynthia and Samantha doing to each
other what they've done for us?  I have a feeling it's something they want
to do anyway!"
   "If you both want to," said Dorothy looking at Cynthia and I, "then feel
free!"
   Cynthia looked at me in a loving way and I returned her look.  We both
knee-walked to each other until we were face to face, both of us breathing
rather heavily.  Cynthia leant forward and planted a lovely kiss on my
lips. I put my arms around her neck, pulled her closer and returned the
kiss.  Her lips parted and I slipped my tongue into her mouth.  She
responded and we were soon locked in a tongue fight.  It felt so good, so
right!  Just then, I felt her fingers probing around my pussy so I parted
my legs a bit to give her better access and noted that she had done the
same.  I accepted the invitation and let my fingers search for her clit.  I
found it straight away and massaged it.  Our breathing got heavier and
heavier and I could feel a climax building in me.  It was just about to hit
me when Cynthia broke our kiss and removed her fingers from me.  I felt
rather deflated but just then she rolled me onto my back and clambered on
top in a sixty-nine.  Now, my lips sought out her bald pussy and clit as
did hers to me.  This was even better and as I mouthed her pussy I let my
finger nails scrape over the cane weals on her bottom.  She came like a
steam train and I followed seconds later.  Wow!  Everything felt so
wonderful.  Cynthia rolled off of me and laid by my side.  I happened to
look over at Dorothy, still sitting in her chair, and saw mother sat on the
arm right next to her.  Each woman was stroking the other's pussy while
their mouths were locked together.  It was a sight I had never expected to
witness, but it was glorious all the same.
   Cynthia got up and went to get something.
   She came back to me and said, "Samantha, we have some unfinished
business here!  Sit where you are and spread your legs.  I think you'll
like this."
   I did and then she sat in a similar pose right in front of me and
produced what looked like a two-foot length of blue rubber.  She slid one
end into her pussy, edged closer to me and started to introduce the other
end into mine!
   "Just rock gently back and forth," said Cynthia, "and if we get the
timing right we're both in for a fantastic time."
   Somehow we managed to get in sync with each other and my god!  She was
absolutely right.  It was fantastic!  We came seconds apart.  I let myself
lay back on the carpet and the dildo slipped out with a soft 'plop'.
   "Bed time, I think," said Dorothy.
   I'm sure we were all tired after the night's activities so none of us
protested.  Dorothy said that mother and I can have Cynthia's bed.  That
obviously meant that Cynthia would share her mother's bed.  I was happy
with the arrangement.
   I awoke some hours later to a lovely feeling between my legs.  It took a
moment to realise that it was mother gently stroking my clitoris.  I looked
at her, smiled my contentment and kissed her.
   "Thank you, mother, for everything," I said.
   She said nothing but smiled contentedly.  Then there was a knock at the
door and in came a naked Cynthia looking rather radiant and carrying two
mugs of coffee.
   "Good morning and Happy New Year to you both.  I hope you slept well?"
   Mother replied, "I don't think either of us got too much sleep but we're
both very happy.  How's your mother?"
   "Still asleep, and will be for a while yet.  All the activity last night
took it out of her but I can tell you she is as happy as you are.  How is
your bottom this morning, Samantha?" she grinned.
   "I'm at that deep throbbing stage," I said with a smile.
   "Yes, me too.  Look!" With that she turned around and presented her
bottom to us for inspection.
   The initial redness had faded but I could see the distinct cane weals.
   "Touch them if you want to."
   I ran my fingers along the weals and then mother joined me by running
her fingers across the weals.
   "Norah does a good job with the cane, doesn't she?" said mother.
   "I think you all do," said Cynthia.
   "From what I saw, all of you kept your strokes parallel and no
crossovers!  Expert caners, all of you, but nothing less than I would
expect from people with all the years of experience you have."
   "Thank you.  A most welcome compliment," said mother.
   Then Cynthia said that breakfast would be ready soon.  Nothing
elaborate; just cereals, toast, juice and more coffee or tea.
   "Come down when you're ready.  You know where the bathroom is?"
   "Thanks, and yes, we do."
   I told mother that she could use the bathroom first, so she did.  I
followed about fifteen minutes later and had a warm shower.  Cynthia had
left a good supply of towels for our use.  I dried and brushed my hair and,
still naked I went to join Cynthia and mother in the kitchen.  I found them
both dressed and munching on buttered toast.
   "Sorry," I said.  "I thought you'd still be naked too.  I'll go and put
something on."
   "Don't worry about that," said Cynthia, "I only put some clothes on
because I could see some neighbours coming along to wish us Happy New Year.
If you're happy being naked then I for one won't object," she laughed.
   Mother said, "I like seeing you naked, Samantha.  In fact I think I'll
make it a rule at home that you have to be naked whenever you are in.  The
same will go for Anne.  Think of the time I'll save when either of you have
to be thrashed!"
   "Yes, indeed, mother," I replied, not sure what to think.
   "I hope that wasn't petulance I just heard from you?  Just because you
were thrashed last night doesn't mean you can't have another this morning.
I rather fancy the idea of caning you over Dorothy's trestle!"
   "Sorry, mother.  I didn't know what to think when you said that.  That's
all."
   "I see," she replied.
   I looked at Cynthia and she seemed a little disappointed that mother
wouldn't carry out her threat.  I tried to ignore it.  I poured some more
coffee and nibbled on a slice of cold toast.
   "I can make some fresh toast if you prefer?" said Cynthia.
   "No.  This is fine, thanks."
   For some reason I kept thinking that I would end up over that trestle or
punished for one reason or another.
   I heard Dorothy call down for Cynthia to come up to her.  Cynthia told
us we could take our coffee into the lounge and watch TV if we wished.  She
disappeared upstairs.  Dorothy came down about half an hour later supported
by Cynthia.
   "I used to wander around practically naked all the time," said Dorothy,
"but nowadays I dare not do that in case someone comes to the door and I
can't get a housecoat on quickly enough."
   "Would you care to tell us about the people you've 'cared' for over the
years?" said mother.
   "Yes, of course.  The most regular ones were Pamela and her daughter
Emily from just up the road.  They were joined occasionally by Pamela's
mother Portia and Portia's sister Betty.  As they kept coming back they
must have gained something from it!  Then there was Elepeth who used to
live in that house over there," said Dorothy pointing through the window ,
"and Marcia and her daughter Sonia, who I had the pleasure of caning,
although unfortunately only once.  They moved out earlier this year. 
Marcia died late last year and Portia had to move to a retirement home near
the rest of her family in Northampton.  Then there was Rachel and her
family, but she dropped me like a hot potato when I had my stroke.  The
less said about her, the better.  Pamela and Emily still pop in
occasionally to see me, mainly to masturbate together, even though I can't
spank them first as I used to."
   "That's a shame," said mother.  "They must be the ones Cynthia mentioned
when we first met?"
   "That's right," said Cynthia, "although I had no idea who did come round
here, apart from Charlotte and Rachel.  I often thought that Elspeth could
do with a good hiding occasionally!  Now I know she did, and from the
sounds of it, quite often!  Mum can be a bit of a dark horse sometimes."
   Then mother asked what I thought was the obvious question.
   "Cynthia, why didn't you take over from your mother?"
   "Neither of us thought about it, I suppose.  I'm not sure I could,
anyway."
   "Why not?  It's not that difficult," said mother.
   "Maybe not for you, but I've always seen myself as the one on the
receiving end of things.  Giving out a thrashing would mean having a
different mindset.  But the more I think about it, perhaps I could bring
myself to do something along those lines."
   "Samantha was the same but now she has thrashed Anne, albeit just the
once so far.  I think she did alright.  How did you feel, Samantha?" asked
mother.
   I replied that I had actually enjoyed it and could differentiate my
feelings between the giving and receiving.
   "There you are," said mother.  "If Samantha can do it, I'm sure you
can."
   "Then I'll do it," said Cynthia, warming to the subject.  "Now, I know
Samantha is still very sore from last night, so I was wondering if either
Pamela or Emily would care to renew their acquaintance with sore bottoms!"
   "Pass me the phone and I'll give them a call," said Dorothy with a huge
grin on her face.
   "All arranged," said Dorothy a few minutes later.  "They'll be over
shortly.  As you heard, I told them you were here and that Cynthia would be
doing it for me.  To say they're eager would be an understatement.  The
trestle will have its first workout in nearly fifteen months!  Now, when
they get here, I suggest you start with Emily.  Warm her up with a short
hand spank over your knee - she'll love that - and then about twenty with a
strap.  When she finishes her dance, put her over the trestle and thrash
her!  At least two dozen strokes, mind.  If you think she can take more,
then by all means do so.  I'll guide you and if I think she can't take any
more then I'll say so.  Similar thing for Pamela, but don't cane her as
hard as you do Emily.  However, you can give her forty to fifty with the
strap first to make up for that."
   "I'll need to get a feel for handling a cane.  Which one do you
suggest?"
   "The senior one, I think.  It will be easier for you to control; not as
whippy as a junior!"
   Cynthia went over to a cupboard similar to ours and took out a senior
cane.  Even though it wasn't going to me who is thrashed, my tummy still
turned a somersault.  Cynthia swished it through the air a couple of times
and tested its balance in her hand.
   "I don't think this will be a problem," she said, delightedly, "and
neither will my hand or the strap."
   "Good!  You're ready then.  Just one thing, and you should know what I'm
about to say," said Dorothy.
   "Have them undressed?"
   "That's it exactly."
   At that same moment the doorbell rang and Cynthia went to let them in.
Mother told me to stay as I was - naked.  I probably coloured up a bit but
stayed where I was.  The door opened and in walked a very beautiful young
woman about seventeen or eighteen-years of age followed by a lady I
presumed to be her mother.
   "Hello, everyone," said the young woman brightly.  "For those who don't
know, this is my mother, Pamela and I'm Emily, or Em if you prefer."
   "Hello to both of you," said mother.  "I'm Delia and this is my daughter
Samantha," she said indicating me.
   "Oh, have you been caned too?" asked Emily.
   "That was last night," said mother, "a get together at a friends house.
Both Dorothy and Cynthia were there too and we were invited to stay the
night here after we brought them home."
   "How lovely!  May I see her bottom, please?"
   "Of course!" and mother told me to stand and turn around for the new
guests.  This time I did go red in the face.
   "Not embarrassed, are you?" said mother.
   "We all know what's happened so you should feel that you're amongst
friends."
   For some reason, mother failed to mention that Cynthia had also been
thrashed last night.
   "Why don't we get this party started then?  I'm rather desperate to feel
the cleansing effect of a good hiding once more, and I'm sure mum is too!"
said Emily.
   She started to undress without being told and told her mother, "Hurry
up, mum.  You know the rules here."
   I watched as the two visitors quickly undressed, although Pamela was not
quite as quick as her daughter.  They looked completely comfortable being
naked in each other's presence so that made me feel better.  Cynthia moved
a chair to the middle of the room and then went to get a strap.  She came
back from the cupboard with the strap and sat down, placing it on the floor
beside her.
   "When you're ready, Emily."
   She came over and stood beside Cynthia and then laid herself over her
lap, wriggling as she did so and still smiling.  I had never seen anyone as
cheerful as her about to get her bottom blistered.
   "Now, you know I'm a novice at this, Emily, so don't expect an even
tanning.  My hand is liable to go almost anywhere."
   "That's OK, Cynthia.  I understand."
   My friend gave the young woman a first class hand spanking which lasted
almost two minutes.  Emily was wriggling in a very sensuous way; so much so
that I actually thought she was being brazen, but I kept that thought to
myself.  Her demeanour changed when Cynthia started with the strap.  She
wasn't so bright now, and I could see some tears rolling down her,
admittedly very pretty, face.  She was allowed up and she jigged around
clutching at her bottom.  She regained some composure and told Cynthia she
had forgotten how it felt after all this time.
   "You're not going to wimp out, are you," asked Cynthia.
   "No, of course not.  That was just the hors d'oeuvres.  I know the main
course is still to come."
   I thought she was really brave or simply mad.  Thrashings weren't meant
to be enjoyed, were they?  Maybe she was like the rest of us and was
looking forward to the 'afters'.  I looked around the room and noticed that
Pamela, in particular, had glazed eyes, no doubt looking forward in her own
way to what is coming for her.  Then I noticed that her hands were over her
pussy and her legs were parted slightly.  I wondered if she was
surrepticiously fingering herself?  I thought, 'Why not?' The scene before
our eyes was a rather tasty one!  Then I saw that Dorothy and mother each
had a hand under their skirts.  I was the only one who wasn't touching
herself.  I soon put that to rights as Cynthia gently led Emily to the
trestle.  The girl laid herself onto the cushioned top and bent down to
grasp the rail running between its legs.  Her hair was short enough so that
it didn't hide her face when her upper half was upside down.
   Cynthia made a mini-drama out of going to the cupboard and fetching the
senior cane, but she was soon in position to deliver what Emily had been
waiting so long for.  My friend looked to her mother and I saw Dorothy nod
her head.  Cynthia let her have the first stroke and, just like my first
one on Anne, it landed square across the middle of her bottom.  That
evinced a stifled yelp.  The second was slightly off parallel, but that
didn't matter.  A second yelp was heard, followed by more and more, all the
time growing in intensity.  Cynthia got a bit adventurous and started
caning Emily's upper legs and managed to get two or three right in the
crease where her legs meets her bottom.  I think I counted thirty strokes
but Cynthia wasn't letting up.  The cane flashed up and down her legs a
further dozen or so times before Dorothy told her to stop.  Cynthia looked
rather reluctant but did stop.  Emily was sobbing heavily and her breathing
made her whole body ripple on that trestle.  There was no doubting it. 
Emily has just had a very good, almost expert, caning.  She was helped off
the trestle by Cynthia who guided her to the floor in front of where
Dorothy was sitting.
   "Good girl, brave girl," said Dorothy not unkindly.
   I looked at Pamela and she seemed to have just had an orgasm.  Her eyes
were still glassy and she was shaking quite a bit.  Then Dorothy told Emily
that she could masturbate while her mother was being thrashed if she wished
to.
   Emily looked up at Dorothy, smiled, and mouthed the words, 'Thank you,'
to her.  Then she added, "Would it be OK if I sat in your lap and you do it
for me?"
   "I would love that, but unfortunately I can't.  I'm too weak to carry
your weight."
   "That's alright.  I understand," she replied.
   Mustering a bit of courage, I said that she could sit on my lap as long
as mother approved.  I looked over to mother and she kindly nodded her
approval.
   "Come here, Emily.  Let me take care of you."
   She crawled over to where my chair was and hoisted herself up and onto
my lap.  I could instantly feel the heat of her thrashing on my thighs.  My
legs parted so that her bottom did not have too much weight to bear.  My
right hand stroked along her right thigh and I was soon happily massaging
her sex.  Meanwhile, Pamela was already over Cynthia's lap awaiting her
hand spanking.  As Cynthia's hand landed on that bottom, so Emily let out a
gasp as my fingers found her clitoris.  As I masturbated Emily, Pamela's
spanking continued apace.  I have no idea how long that part of the
spanking lasted but I watched as the strap was picked up and applied to the
subject bottom.  Emily's rapturous moaning gained in intensity as her
mother had her backside soundly strapped.  This seemed to go on longer than
it had for the girl now wriggling on my lap.
   Pamela was allowed up and she just stood there, head bowed sobbing
gently.  Cynthia guided her to the trestle and helped her get into
position. The cane was once more picked up and the bottom tapped to gauge
the range.  That cane flashed up and down the older woman's backside and
upper legs almost as well as mother or any of the other matriarchs could.
Cynthia was a natural.  This time, the cane only impacted about twenty
times before Cynthia stopped.
   "Two more, please," said Pamela.
   So Cynthia delivered another two and as the second one landed I saw
Pamela shudder in what was almost certainly an orgasm.  Perhaps that was
all she needed.
   Dorothy then said, "You may masturbate if you wish or else Delia, I'm
sure, would be only too happy to do it for you." "I would, very much so,"
said mother.  "Come here darling..."
   Pamela also crawled on her knees to mother and got onto her lap and was
soon sighing as mother tended to her pussy.
   A while later, as we were all relaxing contentedly, the phone rang and
Dorothy answered it as it was on the table next to her.
   "Jean!  Happy New Year to you and Andy.  How are you both?"
   Cynthia mouthed the words, 'my sister' to mother and I.  The one-sided
conversation I could hear mainly consisted of 'Yesses', 'I see's' and 'of
course's'.
   Then it was, "Well, you and Andy had better come round tomorrow and
we'll discuss it."
   Just then, Pamela said that she and Emily would love to stay but had to
go as they had guests coming round a bit later.  Emily frowned when her
mother said that, but quickly put a smile back on her face when Dorothy
said they could come round again soon.  Pamela and Emily both quickly got
dressed and then I noticed that Emily was putting on some thick black
leggings.  I'm sure she wasn't wearing them when she arrived!
   She saw me wondering about them and she said, "Just in case any of my
vanilla friends see me."
   "Vanilla friends?" I asked.
   "Anyone who doesn't share our interest in having our bottoms striped,"
she explained with a smile.
   "Yes, now I understand," I said.
   The two ladies came and gave each of us a kiss on the cheek and said
their good-byes.
   The rest of the day was spent doing very little.  I helped Cynthia get
some lunch prepared and after that was eaten and the crockery and cutlery
was washed, dried and put away we just sat and watched TV.  At just after
5.30 mother said we should think about going to collect Anne.  I got
dressed rather reluctantly as I had got used to being naked in front of
others and I said to mother that as soon as I got home my clothes would be
coming off again.  Mother just grinned.
   "I think it will be lovely having you and Anne naked around the house!"
   We said our good-byes to Dorothy and Cynthia, got in the car and drove
back to Margaret's.
   As we drove, I asked mother if she thought Anne would have behaved
herself?
   "I expect so, but wouldn't be at all surprised if she had done something
to upset Margaret or Norah.  We'll soon find out," she said as we turned
into the road leading to Margaret's home.
   We got to the big old house and I said, "Shall we both go in or just one
of us?"
   "Both of us," said mother.  "It would be rude if only one of us went."
   So we both went and I rang the doorbell.  Our ring was answered by Anne
who was all smiles and wearing just a dressing gown.
   "Thank you for letting me stay the night," she said excitedly.  "Alison
and I had a great time together.  Come on in and say hello to everyone. 
They're in the lounge."
   We trooped in and everyone was there.  Margaret and Norah were the only
ones who were dressed.  It seems they had a similar idea to mother's!  The
younger girls didn't seem too perturbed by the nakedness all around them,
although Marion did look a bit self-conscious.
   "We're just about to get tea ready," said Margaret.  "Will you stay or
do you have to get home?"
   "We can stay for a while, if you're sure we won't be putting you to any
trouble?" said mother.
   "Of course not," said Margaret.  "My great-nieces will be doing the
honours, but woe betide them if they spoil anything," she said glaring, but
smiling at the same time at the younger girls.
   I think they got the message!
   o-------------------------------------------------o
   Mr K
   Some Background Info
   I was brought up with the occasional aid of a belt to discipline me, but
that had stopped by the time I was ten or eleven.  It did, however, leave
me with a fascination of corporal punishment.  I was able to obtain some
illicit reading material from time to time and they often included Readers'
letters on the subject.  This fuelled my fascination to the extent that, by
the time I was seventeen I actively sought out girls who had been
corporally punished.  I did find two who were occasionally spanked at home
but things between us didn't work out.  When I was not quite twenty, I
found Bridget.  A friend who knew of my fascination told me about this girl
whose parents were particularly strict.  Naturally, my interest was piqued
and I went out of my way to get to know Bridget.  Instead of going straight
for Bridget I decided I should get to know one or both of her parents and
gain their trust so there would be no real concern when I asked Bridget out
on a date.
   Bridget (an only child) was raised really strictly with frequent
strappings and canings from one or both parents.  I was witness to this on
a number of occasions before (and after!) we got married and I was eager to
keep up her parents' good work!  I subsequently learned that Bridget was
subject to anal discipline (penetration, butt plugs and strapping) from her
father and I was persuaded that I should do this not only to Bridget but to
my future children.  It was also Fred, my father-in-law, who taught me how
to use the cane, mainly on Bridget but sometimes on his wife Gillian!  He
also taught me how to use a strap on Bridget's vagina and anus (very
exhilarating, I must say)!  Most regrettably, Fred passed away in 19XX, but
at least he had had the chance to discipline Amy both intimately and with
spankings.
   Our daughter was raised strictly too, often getting the brush, strap,
or, more often than not, the cane.  Bridget insisted that in the event of
Amy having to be punished while I was at work then I must repeat (or
sometimes increase) the punishment when I got home.
   When we found out that Amy was pregnant (she was 17) she was severely
thrashed for her indiscretion and, to be brutally honest, I secretly hoped
that the thrashing would make her miscarry.  In the event I'm so glad that
Doreen (named after Bridget's middle name) was born!  Anyway, Doreen was
born just over eight years' ago and received her first spanking at the age
of a few months old.  Nothing big to begin with, just some hand spanks to
her bottom.  Obviously, this has increased over the years and she got her
first taste of the strap and brush at three-years-old (a similar age to her
mother).  Doreen was first caned on her sixth birthday by Bridget and by me
later that same day (four with the nursery cane if my memory serves me
correctly).  This was also the first time I anally penetrated Doreen.  Her
screams and shouts were like music to my ears!  I've always considered that
a punishment without screams and shouts (even muffled ones) hasn't been
effective.  However, it wasn't the first time Doreen had had contact with
my cock.  While she was still young enough for her mother's breast I would
occasionally get her to 'suckle' the tip of my cock and that would make me
cum over her face.  I did this with Amy too; the reason being that I wanted
her to get used to my cock and that whenever I punished one of them they
would know that my cock would need its relief afterwards - sometimes
anally, sometimes orally.
   All punishments carried out are done in the nude.  In fact, all parties
to the discipline, the one being punished, me and any on-lookers have to be
nude.  I have never been worried that my family (father-in-law,
mother-in-law, wife, daughter and grand-daughter) have seen me naked and
aroused.  I feel it adds to their discipline.  It also saves time when the
spanking part of the punishment is done and I'm ready to discipline
intimately.
   Bridget and Amy were, and Doreen is, home-schooled by Bridget's mother,
Gillian (a qualified teacher).  We turned a spare bedroom into the school
room where, on prominent display, are a junior cane, senior cane and a
strap.  Gillian has full spanking rights over her daughter, grand-daughter
and great-grand-daughter, but Amy has none over Doreen.
   To sum up who has what 'right' in this household:-
   - I can punish Gillian, Bridget, Amy and Doreen - Bridget can punish Amy
and Doreen - Gillian can punish Bridget, Amy and Doreen
   Perhaps because of her age, or more likely just the amount of use it's
had, Gillian's anus isn't as tight as it once was, and I'm not quite big
enough to make her uncomfortable when I penetrate her anally, but she still
knows she is being punished.  Also, Gillian isn't as strong as she once was
so she tends to leave any punishment of Bridget and Amy to me although she
can still reduce Bridget and Amy to sobbing wrecks when needed.  Gillian
still feels the need to be caned every once in a while and I'm more than
happy to oblige.  She is one tough lady and it's rare that I give her less
than forty hard strokes with the senior cane.
   Spanking tools and accessories at our disposal:
   - Velcro straps to secure the spankee for a particularly severe
punishment over a chair or table.  - 2 hairbrushes, 1 lightweight and 1
heavy - 1 riding crop (yet to be used) - 3 straps, one thin and narrow
(ideal for vaginal and anal strapping) and two thick and wide.  - 9 canes:-
1 nursery, 3 Junior, 3 Senior and 2 Dragon canes.
   The Dragon canes and the crop are held in reserve as I feel that the
threat of something more severe than the senior cane is useful to maintain
discipline.  The nursery cane has been retired for the time being as Doreen
was progressed to the junior cane when she was seven-years-old.  One each
of the junior, senior and Dragon canes are in pristine condition and are
there ready to replace any breakages.  There has only ever been one cane
break in use and that was determined to be a fault in the rattan and it was
promptly replaced by the supplier.
   The First Time I Caned Bridget
   We had been out for a pleasant evening and I knew that Bridget had to be
home by ten o'clock.  I had left our destination in plenty of time to get
her home, but on the way back, my old rust-bucket of a car broke down. 
Anyway, I eventually managed to find the broken wire that caused the break
down and managed to get the car going again.  I accompanied Bridget to her
front door and was just about to give her a good-night kiss when the door
opened and her mother demanded to know why we were so late.  I tried
explaining about the car breaking down and even showed her my greasy hands
from trying to make the repair.
   "Hmm," she murmured.  "I have no doubt you're telling the truth but
there's no reason you couldn't have let us know what had happened.  There
are plenty of telephone boxes around, you know!" (This was in the days when
mobile phones were like housebricks and were only for businessmen or the
rich).
   "I'm sorry, I just didn't think about that," I said.
   "You were obviously busy with the repair, but Bridget could have walked
to find a phone."
   Gillian turned to Bridget and simply said, "Your father is waiting for
you," and then, to me, "Follow me please, Ken." She continued, "You've been
witness to some of Bridget's punishments these last few weeks and I'm glad
to have noted that you get aroused." I blushed.  "Fred and I have agreed
that you should start taking some responsibility for Bridget's discipline.
Now's as good a time as any so you will help Fred this evening," she smiled
devilishly at me.  "I know you'll enjoy this!" A wide grin cracked my face.
   Gillian escorted me into the lounge where Bridget was already naked and
standing against the wall with her hands on her head.
   She was protesting, "Please, mum, dad.  Don't let him see me like this."
   "Don't be silly, Bridget, or you know what will happen," said her father
as he walked to a cupboard, opened it and took out a three-foot cane and a
large hairbrush.
   He gave the brush to Gillian who then sat on a stool and called Bridget
over to her.  Gillian deftly pulled Bridget down over her lap and as she
did so, Gillian's skirt rode up to the top of her thighs.  She wasted no
time in smacking the brush into Bridget's quivering bottom again and again.
It didn't take long for my beloved to start crying, then screaming out at
the agony she must be suffering.  I was totally aroused, something which, I
discovered later, hadn't gone unnoticed.  Her mother continued to spank her
daughter for a full two minutes before allowing her up and giving
permission to rub.  Bridget danced the prettiest 'sore-bum-reel' I had
seen. Of course, that was only the first stage of the punishment.
   Fred swished the big cane through the air a few times before telling
Bridget to bend over the arm of the sofa with her feet apart.
   "Sit there, lad," he said to me, pointing with the cane to an armchair
from where I would be able to see every stroke land.
   He gave her six strokes very slowly but with force making Bridget cry
out each time.  Then it was six given quite quickly.  Quickly enough so
that Bridget didn't have a chance to anticipate the next stroke.  I was
learning a lot!
   "Here you are, lad," he said, passing the cane to me.  "Your turn!"
   I heard Bridget give a low moan and I figured that she knew her future
fate was sealed.  He showed me how to hold the cane and where to stand in
relation to Bridget's dark red bottom.
   "Don't worry about hitting her hard, you won't do any lasting damage!"
   My cock jerked in my pants.
   I gave her six strokes and I managed to keep them in the same area of
her bottom.  Bridget was sobbing, tears and snot streaking her face heavily
now and Fred told me to give her six quick ones as he had done a few
moments before.  I did, but these weren't so accurate and I left some
diagonal lines in places instead of the desired horizontal ones.
   "Not bad...  for a beginner," Fred smiled at me.
   "Yes," said Gillian.  "Not bad at all!  I believe you will enjoy keeping
our daughter well-disciplined in the future," she said as she gazed at my
crotch, noting the bulge in my trousers.
   Very little surprised me in this house anymore, but there was a surprise
in store for me.
   Fred said, "Look, this next part of Bridget's punishment is, how shall I
put it, different to anything you may have seen or heard about before.  All
I can do is assure you that it is normal, not only in my home, but in many
others too."
   He sat in the chair next to mine and told me what was going to happen.
   "Yes," I said excitedly.  "I can see why you needed to tell me this and
I must tell you that I have heard mention of this type of discipline before
and am eager to see it done.  I'm not here to judge you or you and your
wife's methods."
   "Good lad," he said and looked over to his wife and gave her a wink.
   She smiled, perhaps more in relief than anything else.  I think they
both sensed that I would be good for their daughter.
   Fred then said, "Perhaps you would be more comfortable if you took your
clothes off?"
   I didn't need telling twice and in a moment I was naked - apart from my
socks - and my penis standing proud.  Both Fred and Gillian also undressed
and I noted that Fred and I are similar in size to each other.
   I heard Bridget say something like, "Noooo.  Please, not like this."
   Fred looked at Bridget sternly and said, "Do you want another caning?"
"No.  I'm sorry, father.  I'm your's and mummy's and Ken's to do with as
you see fit."
   "Yes, you are," said Gillian equally as sternly as Fred.
   Gillian retrieved a pot of lubricating gel and started to work it into
Bridget's anus.  As she worked, I saw Gillian get three fingers inside my
future wife's anus, and then as she stretched the opening, Gillian popped a
fourth finger in.  a moment later and Gillian said that Bridget was ready.
Fred positioned himself behind her and lined up his penis.  With one push
he was two inches inside and with another his balls touched her bottom
cheeks.  Bridget obviously didn't like the intrusion but took it without
too much complaint.  Fred started to fuck his daughter's arse, but within
seconds his body went rigid and he was obviously ejaculating.  I could hear
a soft plop as he pulled out, and as he did so, beckoned me over to take
his place.  I needed no second invitation and I was quickly inside Bridget.
Somehow, I lasted a little longer than Fred had done, despite her arse
being so well-lubricated with the gel and Fred's sperm, and I was soon
moaning in delight as I had my orgasm.  I turned to see Fred sitting on a
chair and Gillian was on her knees in front of him with his penis in her
mouth, noisily licking and sucking at his softening manhood.  Fred told
Bridget to do the same to me.  I was soon sitting and being sucked and
licked clean, even though I was softening quickly.  Then Bridget did
something I had never experienced before.  She pulled me to the edge of the
chair and told me to put my feet up on the arms.  When I was comfortable,
my darling girlfriend pushed her face down to my bottom and kissed and
licked all around my arse.  Then, even more surprising, she fluted her
tongue and actually pushed it inside me!  I was in heaven and my cock was
soon rising to the occasion once more.  Bridget pulled me back to a normal
sitting position and set about my stiffness with her mouth once more.  I
lasted a lot longer this time before I came into her throat.  In the
meantime, I noticed that Fred was lying on his back on the carpeted floor
and Gillian was on top of him enjoying (dare I say it?) a good fuck?
   Lesson Number 2
   Fred invited me round a few days later and I thought I'd have the
opportunity to cane Bridget again, but when I got there it was only him and
Gillian.  He explained that Bridget was out for the evening (a rare outing
for her) and that they wanted to help develop my spanking skills.  I said
something about Bridget not being there, so how could...?  Then it dawned
on me.  Gillian would be the one to experiment on!  Fred went on,
   "Some of what we show you will be new to you and we want the best for
Bridget's well-being and safety in her future discipline from you.  The
discipline we have given her through her life has only involved short-term
pain and discomfort; no permanent damage, and that's the way we'd like
things to stay."
   "That won't be a problem.  Like you, I love being able to wield this
incredible power over her and I would kill myself rather than lose Bridget
and, perhaps more importantly, your trust," I replied.
   "That's what we thought," said Gillian.  She went on, "We'd like to let
you know that we trust and love you and we formally welcome you into all of
our lives.  There's just one thing we need to point out and to obtain your
understanding on: That is that you must never let anyone beyond our
immediate family know what goes on here or will be going on in your home.
Is this understood?"
   "Yes, of course, and I understand the reasons for it.  I promise not to
divulge anything that goes on in this family," I said solemnly (I didn't
really know much about the Internet in those days as it was still in its
infancy, so the promise was given in good faith).
   "I need to ask something though."
   "Go ahead," said Fred.
   "How many people know what goes on here?"
   "Let's see," said Fred.  "Apart from the four of us, there's Gillian's
sister, Mavis, her husband Carl and their daughter Constance.  Our families
have similar ideas, but we don't hear from them too often as they live in
the States."
   Gillian added, "There was Sandra and then there was that girl from your
office," her voice trailed off as though remembering something painful.
   "Ah, yes.  Sandra and Kathleen," said Fred, "Sandra was a teacher at
Bridget's school, but she had to leave her job.  Something to do with
injuring a child.  She had a daughter who I know she caned quite often. 
Her name was Jean, I think.  We haven't heard from her for years now.  She
caned Bridget on many occasions here because she couldn't get away with it
at the school even though the cane was still permitted then.  Teachers were
limited to using a slipper.  The head teacher was the only one allowed to
cane anyone in those days.  She would let us know when Bridget was in
trouble and we'd invite her round to witness the punishment and to take
part occasionally.  I don't remember Sandra ever bringing Jean round here
and there wouldn't have been any anal punishments when she did visit.  Now,
Kathleen," he sat back in his chair, smiling as though remembering a rather
pleasant experience.  "She somehow found out that I am particularly strict
and skilled with the cane and practically blackmailed me into
re-acquainting her with a very sore, stripey bottom.  I took the precaution
of having Gillian witness her canings just in case things turned ugly. 
They didn't and once every two weeks she would come round for a good
thrashing.  Nothing sexual happened, well, not until after she had gone!"
Gillian blushed slightly and I got the meaning.  "We haven't seen her since
she got married a few years ago and I like to think she found a man who
could give her what she needs."
   "Now, back to why you're here this evening.  I'm going to explain some
things and to show you some skills you'll need and Gillian here has kindly
volunteered her body for the purpose," he grinned at me.
   I knew then that Gillian had been volunteered, not the other way around!
She must have been due for discipline and this evening was as good as any
to show me some techniques.
   "Firstly," said Fred, "You need to understand that all punishments
should be done with everyone naked.  The other night was an exception.  Are
you comfortable with that?"
   "No problem," I replied.
   "Secondly, I'm going to tell you the sort of things that Bridget and,
indeed, Gillian get punished for.  Lying, stealing, swearing and
disobedience are at the top of the list.  I believe that all these things
deserve a very severe thrashing, perhaps using a strap and cane in
combination.  I'll give you more ideas on that a bit later.  After that you
could add in such things as petulance, impudence and insolence; all of
which deserve to be punished in one way or another, but not as severely as
the first four things I mentioned.  Of course, you may well find other
faults which need to be treated or, indeed, think that something like
impudence is more punishable than, say, swearing.  These are guidelines for
you and you will have to make up your own mind as to which is more
important.  Something like Bridget spending too much money could be put in
the category of stealing, as it would be stealing from you if you have a
joint account, for example.  Any questions so far?"
   "No," I said.  "That's pretty straight forward."
   "There will be times when Bridget is well behaved and on her best
behaviour.  Don't let that fool you!  She will have done things during the
week that weren't found out.  There's a simple answer to this: Spank her
regardless of good behaviour at least once a week.  Deep down she will know
what she's being punished for, believe me."
   "Very good advice, Fred.  Thank you."
   "You're welcome, and if you come up with some advice for me then I will
welcome it," he grinned, "Now, back to this evening.  Gillian has disgraced
herself.  She has overspent on the house-keeping money and she couldn't
justify it and swore when I found out.  I would have been happy if she just
said that the price of something had gone up."
   I looked at Gillian and saw she was blushing rather prettily.
   "I have decided that her punishment will be the hairbrush, the cane and
the strap.  Quite similar to Bridget's thrashing the other night, but with
a twist.  I will supervise things."
   Fred started to remove his clothes so I followed suit, as did Gillian.
Gillian would have been in her mid-forties but she still had a great body,
especially to a nineteen-year-old lad like me!  Both Fred and I were
sporting hard penises by the time we were all naked and I noticed Gillian
looking at us and a small smile playing around her mouth.
   "Right," said Fred.  "The brush first."
   He pulled an armless, upright chair towards the middle of the room.
   "Sit down and get comfortable, Ken," he said.  "When Gillian is over
your lap you shouldn't worry that your penis might rub against her.  That's
part of the fun for you and some humiliation for Gillian."
   I signalled to Gillian to get over my lap.  She did and wriggled her
body a bit (that was nice) as she settled down.  Fred told me to put my
right leg over Gillian's legs to hold her in place.  I shuffled Gillian a
bit further over my left leg until her bottom was raised up as Bridget's
was the other night.
   "You're a quick study, lad," said Fred smiling as he handed the brush to
me, "Grip the brush firmly, but not too tight.  Now, place the brush on her
bottom and adjust your position, or Gillian's if you aren't happy that you
can spank comfortably."
   I shuffled a bit more and when I was happy I looked up at Fred.  He
nodded and I raised the brush to just over my shoulder and brought it
cracking down on her bottom.  I repeated the stroke again and again and it
wasn't long before Gillian was whimpering and I could tell she had tears in
her eyes.
   "Spread them about a bit and don't worry if you hit her thighs. 
Perfectly legitimate target," he grinned.
   After about twenty spanks, Fred told me to stop.
   "That's a nice job you're doing, Ken, but a bit of randomness should be
introduced.  Did you notice that Gillian clenched one buttock or the other
in anticipation of which one was going to be hit next?"
   "Yes, I did see that.  What do you suggest?"
   "Try not to spank her buttocks alternately.  Spank the left, say, six
times then the right one four times, two on the left, six on the right and
so on and so on."
   "I've got the idea," I said.
   "Good.  You may continue spanking my errant wife." Gillian was blubbing
nicely and becoming more agitated as I continued her spanking.  My penis
was being rubbed by her tummy each time I landed a spank on her and I
thought I would ejaculate by the time the spanking was over.  Fred stopped
me at what I thought was the fiftieth spank and told Gillian to stand up.
   I saw that some semen was oozing out of my penis and Fred said, "Nothing
to worry about, Ken.  you haven't cum yet.  If you didn't know, that's
what's known as pre-cum; all perfectly natural."
   Then to Gillian he simply said, "Go and stand with your hands on your
head against the wall.  No touching!" he warned.  "Get your breath back,
Ken.  Go and relax in the armchair," he said as he handed me a glass of
vodka and coke.
   I gratefully accepted the glass in slightly shaky hands and went and sat
down, penis still standing proud!
   "Gillian," he said.  "You may rub."
   Gillian immediately clasped her burning bottom with both hands trying to
quench the fire within and was doing a 'sore-bum-reel' that compared with
Bridget's the other day.  He poured himself a drink and sat in the other
armchair.
   "You have a good, strong arm there, Ken.  Much better than I could
manage these days, but I suppose that's down to my age." He grinned.
   We both finished our drinks and he got up and went to the cupboard and
took out the same cane we had used on Bridget.
   "This is known as a senior cane," he explained.  "It's about six inches
longer than a junior cane and a bit thicker."
   He got a junior cane and one that was smaller still from the cupboard.
He put the senior and junior side by side so that I could see the
difference.  The smallest cane was only about eighteen inches long and also
put alongside the other two for comparison.
   "This small one, or nursery cane as it's known, is, as the name
suggests, for use in the nursery or, in other words on a young bottom; say
five years-old.  At the age of six you should up the ante to the junior
cane.  The nursery just won't have the desired effect!  The junior cane can
be used for any age person, but for serious punishment then it must be the
senior.  Also, the junior is particularly good when speed caning is
required."
   "Like you did the other night?" I asked.
   "Yes, but that was with the senior and even an experienced practitioner
wouldn't be able to keep that up for long.  No, the junior is ideal for
speed because it is that much more flexible.  Sometimes, a speed caning is
more effective than a slow drawn out one, but nothing less than about fifty
strokes would have to be given.  Don't look alarmed!  Fifty given at speed
is roughly the equivalent of twenty to twenty-five given more slowly, but
the bum decorations it makes have to be seen to be believed," he grinned.
"There are other sizes and varieties available, not to mention different
materials.  Having said that, never ever use bamboo.  It splits and
splinters too easily and can cause more damage than expected.  Rattan and
its derivitives are perfectly good and you'll only ever need two or three
plus some spares."
   I nodded knowingly.
   "What do you think will be next for Gillian?" he asked.
   "The senior cane?" I said, looking hopeful.
   "Well, if she hadn't committed two offenses then it would have been. 
She will be caned a bit later, but before that there is the strapping she
needs.  If I said that it won't be her bottom that will be strapped, what
would you think?"
   I looked a bit bewildered.
   "Er, her breasts?" I asked.
   "Another legitimate target, but not tonight.  Have another guess," he
smiled looking down at his crotch.
   "Her pussy?" I asked rather excitedly, my cock bobbing with the thought.
   "That's right, lad.  Her pussy and I hope you never use the 'C' word to
describe her or other women's genitals."
   "I don't like or use that word at all if it can be helped," I said.
   "Good," was his terse reply.
   "The easiest way to punish Gillian's pussy is to have her in the diaper
position.  Do you know what that is?"
   "Yes," I said.  "I've read descriptions of it, but how do you get her
legs to stay back?"
   "That was tricky when I first introduced pussy whipping, but over the
years first Gillian and then Bridget have learnt to hold their own legs
back and to take their punishments graciously.  In the early days I had to
get them into position on a bed and use scarves to tie their legs back to
the headboard."
   "Is the idea to strap the genitals entirely or to concentrate on one
spot such as the clitoris?" I asked.
   "Oh, never concentrate on one spot alone, that could be dangerous.  Vary
the strokes so that the end of the strap lands in different places each
time.  Being inexperienced as you are, it will actually be better for the
ladies as you will be putting the strap in different places because you
won't have any accuracy yet.  That, along with using the cane accurately
will come with time and practice.  I'm willing to wager that you will be
able to paint a ladder with the cane on a bottom and thighs within a couple
of months," he smiled again.
   "I have some questions," I said.
   "Of course.  Fire away."
   "OK, firstly how often should someone be punished?"
   "Whenever they've done something deserving punishment.  There's no point
in waiting any length of time unless there are circumstances beyond your
control, such as being away from home or just being unable to have any
privacy, or waiting for an evening such as this to demonstrate different
techniques and ideas."
   "So you wouldn't, for example, keep a record of wrongdoings and punish
them at the end of the week?" I asked.
   "That might work for some people.  It's down to personal preference.  I
prefer to punish when something comes to light.  If you were to do as you
suggest then it's possible that whoever you are punishing will have done so
many things deserving of punishment that they will not be able to take
everything due to them in one go.  Shall we continue with Gillian's
punishment?"
   "No point in waiting too long," I grinned.
   "That's the idea," said Fred.
   He got up and called for Gillian to come over and sit on the arm of the
sofa.  She knew what was expected and rolled onto her back on the seat of
the sofa, leaving her bottom overhanging the arm.  Then she raised her legs
to her chest, spread them wide and gripped each leg with an arm.  Her pussy
was on very prominent display and my cock was bobbing in eager
anticipation! Fred handed me a strap which was about one inch wide, one
eighth of an inch thick and about twelve inches long.  He told me to stand
so that the end of the strap in my hand was lying over Gillian's clitoris.
Then he said I should bring it up to chest height and whip it down, hard!
Gillian's reaction was everything I hoped it would be.  Her sudden intake
of breath and the appearance of a fresh supply of tears in her eyes was a
sight and sound to behold, quite unlike her reaction to having her bottom
and legs spanked.  Twenty strokes later and Fred told me to stop. 
Gillian's whole body was trembling, her tears were streaming down her face
and her breathing was ragged to say the least!  I could see the welts
popping up where the strap had bitten in hard.
   Fred picked up the senior cane and handed it to me.  He turned Gillian
over so that she was lying over the sofa arm, as Bridget had been the other
night.
   "How many," I asked.
   "I'll leave that to you but I will stop you if I think you've overdone
things.  You can cane her as fast or as slow as you like, but preferably a
mixture of speeds," he said.
   I nodded, raised the cane to shoulder height and brought the first
stroke down plumb in the middle of her bottom.  I waited about ten seconds
and brought the cane whistling down a second time.  I was pleased to see
that it was a little lower, but parallel to the first.  I stopped after
twelve strokes to assess my handiwork and to hear the lovely noises Gillian
was making.
   I said to Fred, "May I have the junior cane?"
   He looked a bit mystified but then grinned widely, realising what I was
going to do and went to the cupboard and pulled out the junior cane and
handed it to me.  I swished it through the air a few times to get a feel
for it.  Satisfied, I lined up the first stroke and proceeded to give
Gillian something like thirty strokes quite quickly, perhaps two per
second. Gillian was screaming like a banshee, but I waited until she had
calmed down a bit before picking up the senior cane once more.
   "A bit of advice, Ken.  Try and get the cane swishing into the crease
between her bottom and thighs, just here," he said as he pointed out the
area.  "Not too many, though," He grinned again.
   I just nodded and my cock seemed to be nodding in agreement too!
   "As soon as you have finished the caning, I want you to put a blob of
this lubricant onto her anus and get into her as quick as you can.  Be as
rough as you wish and don't worry about any screams she produces.  It's all
part of the punishment," he said, putting a tube of KY on the floor next to
me.  "If you wish, there's no need to cum inside her.  You may prefer to
make her suck you to orgasm.  If you decide that, then I will immediately
take your place behind her," he smiled widely.
   I picked up the senior cane once more, and laid in to Gillian's rather
battered looking backside a further dozen or so times.  I dropped the cane
and picked up the lubricant and squeezed some onto her anus.  The tube
dropped from my hand as I grasped her bucking hips and drove full length
into her in one go!  Oh, the feeling was truly wonderful.  I fucked her
arse for a moment or two before deciding that I wanted to use her mouth.  I
looked over to Fred and with a head gesture indicated that I was going for
Gillian's mouth and that he should get ready to penetrate her.  I noticed
there were streaks of brown on my cock but completely undeterred, I slid
myself under Gillian's body and guided her head to my raging cock.  She
took me inside her mouth and gave me a fabulous blow job.  I came within
about thirty seconds!  My cock deflated and left her still-sucking mouth
with the sound of a soft 'plop'.  Meanwhile, Fred was still fucking her
arse, but I could sense he would soon be climaxing too.  He did and then
told me to move as there was a cock to be cleaned!  I moved off the sofa
and he took my place.  Gillian took him in her mouth and when he finally
pulled out I could see that his cock was as clean as a whistle, even though
it had brown streaks on it when he pulled out of her arse.  I went and sat
in an armchair, slumped back and started to relax and reflect on everything
that had happened tonight.
   Fred poured a couple more drinks and handed me one.
   "I'm sure you have more questions, Ken," he said.
   "Plenty," I replied, "but I can't put anything into words at the
moment."
   "Hopefully, you'll never stop learning.  You showed me something tonight
I had never even thought of and that was when you changed canes.  Great
idea to start slow, give a quick one with a whippier cane and then back to
slow.  Also the different types of sting the two canes gave.  Keep 'em
guessing!" he grinned.
   "I was just wondering if I could have your permission to discipline
Bridget when she and I are alone and away from here, or would you want her
solely disciplined here, by you, but with my assistance?" I asked.
   "For the time being she should be punished here either by me, or you
under my supervision.  I want you to report any thing that you consider
worthy of punishment to me or Gillian.  Don't worry, you will have my
blessing to thrash Bridget at your discretion soon.  I have already placed
an order for some new straps and we have a suitable hairbrush for you to
use.  As for canes we have a good supply here from when Gillian had her
contacts in the education department."
   I started to get dressed and as I was doing that I asked, "One thing
before I go; Is there any area of the body that is strictly out-of-bounds
to punish?"
   "Let's see," he mused.  "The head, neck, throat and face should be
avoided altogether, including slapping.  Nothing solid should be used on
the back or the shins.  I would also say that you should avoid the caning
of hands and feet.  A strap is suitable and safer.  The genitals, as you've
seen are OK for the strap or something similar.  Breasts can be strapped
safely, although a cane can be used as long as great care is taken. 
Basically you can cane anything that is fleshy and use the strap on any
boney or really delicate parts.  Does that answer your question?"
   "Yes, it does.  Thanks very much, Fred.  It's been a most enlightening
evening," I said as I finished getting dressed.
   The Home-Schooling Inspector
   It was sometime in the first half of 19XX that I received a letter from
the local education authority saying that an inspector would call round in
two days' time (if convenient) to see how Amy's home-schooling was coming
on (Amy would have been seven-years-old).  The letter went on to state that
Amy would be given some tests both mental and physical.  No problem, I
thought.  Amy was (still is) a bright and healthy girl and should pass the
tests with no difficulty.  I decided that Amy shouldn't be punished before
the inspector arrived just in case there were any tell-tale signs as I knew
that CP, although not illegal at that time, was strongly frowned upon.  I
didn't want to give the inspector any reason to have Amy removed to a
'proper' school.  I told Gillian (Amy's teacher) about my decision and she
was in full agreement, saying that if Amy did anything to warrant
punishment then it could be carried out after the inspection.
   Promptly at the arranged time the doorbell rang and I answered it. 
Standing in front of me was a smart looking woman in her forties.  She
introduced herself as Mrs.  McDermot and I showed her in to the lounge and
offered her some tea, which she politely declined.
   "I'd like to get started right away, if that's alright with you?" she
asked.
   "Certainly," I said.  "I'll get Amy and her grand-mother to come in
now."
   "Her grand-mother?" asked Mrs.  McDermot.
   "Yes," I replied.  "Gillian is a qualified teacher.  I was wondering...
would you prefer too see them in the schoolroom?  It may be easier there."
   "That would be most suitable.  "Lead on!" she said in a way that
reminded me of Margaret Rutherford in an old film.
   I showed her the way to the schoolroom, actually a spare bedroom made to
look like a classroom, where she saw the blackboard, teacher's desk, a
cupboard, some chairs and an old schooldesk for Amy.  The tools of
discipline had been removed prior to the visit.
   "Splendid!" said Mrs.  McDermot when she stepped into the room.  "If
only others could have this sort of set-up for the children.  Far too many
are taught at the kitchen table for my liking.  The kitchen is adequate but
not as good as a dedicated room like this," she said as she examined the
books in the cupboard before suddenly introducing herself to Gillian.  "You
must be Gillian.  I am Mrs.  McDermot."
   "Nice to meet you." Gillian returned the courtesy, then said, "This is
Amy, my student."
   "Yes, of course it is.  Nice to meet you, Amy," she said extending her
hand for Amy to shake.
   "Would you like me to stay," I asked.
   "Oh, I insist.  You have a right to know how your daughter is getting
on," she said.
   "I think we'll start with some simple tests in elementary mathematics,
spelling and English comprehension, all designed for someone of Amy's age."
   Gillian invited Mrs.  McDermot to use her desk.
   "Thank you," as she opened her battered old leather briefcase and pulled
out a sheaf of papers.  "Mathematics first, I think," she said and asked
Gillian to pass the paper to Amy who was sat at her desk.  "Twelve
questions and twenty minutes to complete it.  Any questions?" Amy shook her
head.  "You may start," said Mrs.  McDermot.
   Amy turned the paper over and started the test.  Before Mrs.  McDermot
arrived I had told Amy to take her time in the tests and not to rush
through them in case she made any mistakes, but as is Amy's wont she
scribbled her answers down too quickly for my liking.
   "Finished!" said Amy, flourishing the paper triumphantly in the air.
   "That was quick," said Mrs.  McDermot but came and took the paper from
Amy and at the same time placing a blank sheet of paper in front of her. 
"The next test is spelling.  I will read the words to you and you just need
to spell them correctly.  If you don't understand a word you can say so or
ask me for a definition."
   Mrs.  McDermot started to read off the words from a sheet of paper in
front of her.  A few moments later and Mrs.  McDermot asked if Amy wanted
her to repeat anything.  Amy said, "No, thank you".
   "Final written test coming up," said Mrs.  McDermot.  "English
comprehension.  This is a number of questions and you have to write out an
answer that shows you understand the question.  It's quite straight
forward," she smiled.
   Amy started writing and about fifteen minutes later said that she had
finished.  In the meantime, Mrs.  McDermot had been checking the first two
tests.
   "Let me check your final paper before I give my assessment."
   She finished looking through the papers and looked at first Gillian and
then me.  It didn't look good.
   "If I were generous I would say that the results are average, but I
would expect average results from those in mainstream schools, not where
they have one-to-one tuition.  However," she continued, "I'm prepared to
accept that this is the first proper examination of Amy's abilities and I
will make an appointment to come round again in three months' time. 
Naturally, I will expect a big improvement by then."
   I asked Mrs.  McDermot, "Is there anything you can suggest to help her
improve?"
   "Oh, yes.  There are, but I can't tell you what they are because they're
not policy anymore," she replied mysteriously.
   "Not policy?  What's not policy?  I asked with more than a bit of
irritation in my voice.
   She picked up a rule from the desk and smacked it across her other hand
and then put it down again.
   "I see," I said.  "Do you advocate spanking then?"
   "Speaking personally that would be a definite 'yes' but I couldn't
possibly expect you to do that.  I can only go by the way I was disciplined
while growing up - and I believe it worked for me."
   She lowered her gaze to the desk top realising that she may have said
too much.  I winked at Gillian and then to Mrs.  McDermot I said, "If I, or
Gillian, were to spank Amy would it go on record?"
   "I wouldn't mention it at all.  Would you consider it, then?" she said
looking up with a hint of a smile on her lips.
   "I want the best for Amy and if you were to support us," I said
indicating Gillian, "what would you suggest?"
   "There were only two things that kept us girls in line when I was at
school - and it was probably the same for you, Gillian - a leather-soled
gym shoe or the cane."
   Gillian nodded, playing along with the ruse nicely.
   "Where could I get such things," I asked, also playing along so that
Mrs. McDermot wouldn't suspect that we already used the cane on Amy.
   "I have some contacts," she said.  "I could have something arranged by
later this afternoon.  If I were to come back early this evening...  how
would that suit you?"
   "What would happen?" I asked.
   "If you're serious about this then I would show you how to keep your
daughter in line and studying hard.  I can practically guarantee the
results you and I require from her," she grinned.
   "Have you suggested this to anyone else, or are there other parents who
already follow your advice?" I said.
   "Oh, yes.  There are quite a few who advocate this course of action and
I back their choice with favourable reports to the department, without
mentioning the method used to obtain the higher grades."
   I took a deep breath and said, "So, if I were to say that Amy was
already disciplined regularly with brush, strap or cane, what would your
reaction be?"
   "I would have to say 'good for you' and that she needs more of it. 
Judging from the test results today I must say that she is rather lazy,
although that could be down to test nerves," she said.
   Gillian said, "It could be that as Amy normally does well in the tests I
give her, but I have to agree that she can be rather lazy and that a really
sore bottom would help her improve."
   "Would it help matters if you were to witness Amy's punishment?" I asked
hopefully.
   "Yes, it would.  I might be able to offer constructive criticism if I
felt her punishment wasn't of a suitable nature."
   "You advocate something severe?" I asked.
   "No point in just dusting her knickers," said Mrs.  McDermot looking
brighter than she had done since she arrived.
   I asked Gillian to fetch the cane and turned to the red-faced Amy.
   "Young lady," I said.  "You have failed your tests today and
disappointed not only me but your grand-mother and Mrs.  McDermot, and your
bottom has to pay the price."
   Amy started to cry.
   "You know what to do," I said and Amy started to remove her clothes.
   When she was naked I told her to stand against the wall with her hands
on her head.  Gillian returned with the Junior cane in one hand and a
hairbrush in the other.  Mrs.  McDermot eyes actually sparkled when she saw
Gillian with the implements of Amy's chastisement.  I invited Mrs. 
McDermot to take a seat and while she was settling down I brought another
chair and placed it in front of the main desk, positioning it so that when
I spanked Amy, Mrs.  McDermot would get a good view and be left in no doubt
about our resolve.  I sat down with the brush in my right hand and called
Amy to me.  She went straight over my lap as she had done on so many
previous occasions.
   I had raised the brush ready to bring it down hard on Amy's bottom when
Mrs.  McDermot suddenly said, "Just a moment, please.  Sorry to stop you
just there, but if I may make an observation..."
   Both Gillian and I looked at her a bit perplexed.
   "Unless I have completely misjudged the situation here - and I don't
think I have - I think you would both feel better if you were naked!"
   Gillian and I looked at each other and then Gillian said to her, "How
did you know?"
   "I didn't, well not for sure anyway.  But I am very pleased that my
instinct was correct.  By the way, what sort of intimate discipline do you
give her afterwards?"
   "Oral and anal," I said.  "My father-in-law persuaded me of the benefits
of causing pain not only on her bottom but in it too.  The only thing I
don't do is vaginal penetration."
   "Excellent, excellent," said Mrs.  McDermot.  "Just like my dear daddy.
Tell me, does Amy do anal rimming?"
   "Oh, yes.  She's very good at that and she's a great pussy pleaser!"
said Gillian.
   Mrs.  McDermot practically swooned at hearing that bit of news.  I
looked at Gillian and started to unbutton my shirt.  Gillian started to
undress and I saw Mrs.  McDermot, with just the merest hint of hesitation,
undressing too.
   Very soon there were three naked ladies and me in that room.  Amy was
sobbing even louder as I called her back to my lap.  She lay down over my
lap again and I picked up the brush.  I looked first at Gillian who was
smiling and then at Mrs.  McDermot who had a hand between her legs.  I
brought the brush whacking down on Amy's bottom and the result was a scream
from Amy as the pain started coursing through her.  Again and again I
whacked that brush down until I thought she'd had enough before the caning
started.  I let Amy fall off my lap and we were treated to a wonderful
dance.  Her hands rubbed and clenched at her blazing bottom and I noticed
that Mrs.  McDermot' fingers were doing their own furious dance between her
legs before she slumped in her chair and her eyes had glazed over.  I
called Amy back and told her to see to her grand-mother's needs.  She
didn't hesitate and went straight to Gillian who was lying on her desk with
her legs drawn back as though she were awaiting a caning of her own!  I
went over to Mrs.  McDermot and gently touched her shoulder.  She looked up
at me with glassy eyes, breathing heavily.
   "That was sublime," she managed to say.  "A good warm up for the cane."
   "That's the idea," I said.  "But first, as you can see, she is tending
to Gillian's needs.  When Gillian has cum, Amy will be caned and then I'll
offer her to you.  I'm sure you have needs as well!"
   "Oh, god, yes, I do, but only if you're sure?" she said.
   "I am, and if you don't mind, while Amy is giving you pleasure I will be
getting inside her, purely as a disciplinary measure you understand,"
   I grinned widely to make sure she knew what I meant.
   "Most admirable," was all she could say.
   I first heard and then saw Gillian have an orgasm and when she had
calmed down a bit I pulled Amy away and thrust her over her own desk,
instructing her to grasp the seat.  I picked up the junior cane and gave my
daughter twelve firm strokes followed by three howlers!  She was screaming
nicely by the second stroke and was almost uncontrollable after that.  It
was certainly the severest caning she had received so far.  As she had only
recently turned seven-years-old she hadn't had that many canings, and most
of those were in the order of six to eight strokes.  When her frantic
bottom grasping and rubbing dance had slowed to a sedate waltz I pushed her
over to Mrs.  McDermot, who was more than ready to receive her
ministrations.  With Amy between Mrs.  McDermot legs I positioned myself
between Amy's legs, smeared some lube on her anus and on the end of my cock
and pushed up into her.  Oh, how she screamed at the intrusion!  Her
screams only served to make Mrs.  McDermot more vocal in her own pleasure.
All too soon, Mrs.  McDermot had orgasmed and I was very close too.  Then I
did shoot my load deep into Amy's bowels and shortly afterwards my cock
slipped out with a 'plop' sound.  Amy knew what to do next as she quickly
turned around and sank to her haunches in front of me and took my cock into
her mouth for cleaning.  Her face twisted every time her tongue came into
contact with a shit smear, but I loved every second of it.
   I sent Amy to go and stand against the wall once more with her hands on
her head while the rest of us got dressed.  We left Amy standing there as
we retired to the lounge to talk.
   "So, Mrs.  McDermot," I said.
   "Oh, please, you can call me Edith," she interrupted.
   "So, Edith, what are your thoughts on what's happened here this
morning?"
   "Let me see.  Firstly it's wonderful that there are still
disciplinarians like you around in this day and age: too many don't really
care and too many are scared of the law, but as you know there are ways and
means.  Secondly, the intimate punishment you give is second to none,
although I couldn't possibly suggest it to everyone I have to see. 
Fortunately, in this case I was able to pick up some signs that not only
severe physical punishment is administered, but also the intimate side of
things too.  Thirdly, thank you for the use of your daughter!  The way her
tear-stained face kept pounding into my pussy while she was being
penetrated by you was terrific.  Next time, I would love to have her rim
me, if that's alright with you?"
   "Of course it is," I replied.  "You mentioned your father earlier so can
I presume that he disciplined you in a similar way to what you have seen
here today?"
   "Yes, dear daddy," she said dreamily.  "The only difference was that he
never warmed me up with a spanking first; he just caned, hard, followed by
penetration of my bottom.  My sister was treated the same.  If I dare to
say it, he was bigger than you in that department so I'm sure you can
imagine the pain I felt."
   "I can only guess by seeing Amy's reaction to it," I said.
   Then Edith asked, "Does your wife participate in the discipline at all?"
   "Bridget?  Yes, she does, she was brought up this way too and is
actually still subject to it, not only from me but her parents too," I
replied.
   "Excellent, most excellent," said Edith.  "Nothing like keeping it in
the family!  Now, earlier you asked if others did this sort of thing and I
can assure you that there are.  Although it might not sound a lot, I know
of three families where corporal punishment is used regularly.  I'm sure
there are others but they'd be the ones who aren't assigned to me.  Of
those three families I mentioned, two also use intimate discipline, much as
you do, and the other, by deduction, doesn't!" she grinned, "May I presume
that you might want to meet up with those families?  You know, swap ideas
and the like?  Perhaps even swap children, and wives, to punish?"
   "I'm sure we could accommodate that idea.  Would you and Fred want to
participate," I said addressing Gillian.
   "Try and leave us out!" she smiled.
   "Fine," said Edith, "I'll see what I can arrange, but it might not be
for a while so don't hold your breath.  Not everyone will want to share
with others, although one of the families has asked similar questions to
you so there is a good chance of meeting them."
   "That's great," I said.  "I'll leave things in your hands.  Before you
go, tell me, if you would, if you still have your bottom caned, even
occasionally?"
   "Occasionally, yes.  If the situation was right then I would want it to
happen," she smiled happily.
   An Invitation Is Received
   Two days after Edith's visit, she called me to say that one of her
families were interested in meeting us for a drink and a chat the coming
weekend.  She gave me a number to call to make arrangements.  I called the
number and a well-spoken man answered the phone.  I introduced myself and
said that Edith had given me his number because we had mutual interests.  I
was being vague just in case I had the wrong number.
   "If by mutual interests you mean strong family discipline and such like,
then yes.  Edith said I should expect your call.  I'm Peter, by the way,"
he said.
   I asked if it was still OK if we met up and he told me that would be no
problem and he went on to extend an invitation to Bridget and myself that
evening and that as it was a first meeting we should leave Amy at home.  He
gave me his address and said he expected me at around 7.30pm.  I thanked
him for the invitation and said we would be there.
   Bridget and I got to the address and were let in by a good looking woman
in her early thirties.  She introduced herself as Jane and showed us into
the lounge.
   "Please, have a seat," she said indicating the sofa, "Drink?"
   "Vodka and lemonade, please," said Bridget.
   "A coke or something soft for me please," I said.
   Jane smiled and poured the drinks.
   "Peter will be down in a moment."
   As she said the word 'moment', Peter came through the door.  I stood to
shake his proffered hand and introduced Bridget.  He shook Bridget's hand
too and took a seat for himself.  Jane brought our drinks over.
   There was a slightly awkward silence until I said, "So!  What do you use
for punishing naughty women and children?"
   That seemed to break the ice and we were all chatting away quite
happily. Peter told me that he was a firm advocate of the cane although he
did have a few other tools of the trade such as straps and paddles.
   "Much like me," I said.  "I think I've got something like nine or ten
canes, a few straps, brushes and a riding crop, although that hasn't been
used yet."
   "Why not?" he asked.
   "I'm saving it for when something really severe is called for.  Both
Bridget and our daughter, Amy, know it's there and will be used if
necessary."
   "I understand and think something like that would be a benefit here. 
Why so many canes, though?"
   "Mostly as spares," I grinned.
   "Get a lot of use, do they?" He laughed.
   "They do," I agreed.
   We talked for some time and it transpired that they have two children,
one boy aged eight and a girl of seven.
   "Amy is seven too," I said.  "Do you treat your children similarly when
you punish them?" I asked.
   "I used to, but Richard hasn't warranted the same level of discipline as
Jill has over the last two years or so.  Richard only gets punished every
couple of months when he slips up but Jill is a different story.  She needs
punishing at least twice a week, quite often more.
   "I don't know too much about punishing boys," I said.  "I can only go by
my own childhood and I think that boys, generally, were better behaved than
girls.  Perhaps girls have a strong will that they can't contain and
consequently have to suffer the punishments more often."
   "Or perhaps, they just need thrashing more for its own sake!" said
Peter.
   "Interesting questions," I said, "but in the end I don't suppose it
matters as long as the children grow up well-disciplined and are able to
give something back to the world when they grow up and eventually leave
home."
   "Nice thought," he said.
   I went on to ask, "Do you punish the children as soon as possible after
they have done something to warrant it or do you keep a list of their
erroneous ways and punish on a set day?"
   "Friday evening is 'consequence night', where we all gather and I read
the list of crimes (for want of a better word) and what the punishment will
be.  Oh, and to be clear, it's not just the children," he said nodding at
his wife, who coloured up with embarrassment very nicely.
   "With me, I find it better to mete out any punishment as and when it
happens.  Don't get me wrong, the way you do things is perfectly good.  I
just go about it in a different way and as long as the end result is the
same, does it realy matter?" Now it was Bridget's turn to colour up as I
said, "To be clear as well, Bridget is punished when I deem it necessary
too."
   Then it dawned on me.  Today was Friday, their 'consequence night'!
   As subtly as I could I said, "Did you mean to invite us here this
evening and not another day?"
   Peter smiled and said, "It was intentional.  I thought it might be
unfair on you if you just left after we had talked without having seen
anything.  Edith told me you are completely trustworthy and I respect her
word on the matter.  She also said you are comfortable with nudity.  That's
just as well as I always do any punishing while nude.  In fact whoever is
to be punished has to be nude as well."
   "Same in my home too," I said.  "It adds to the punishment, I feel. 
We'll take our cue from you as to when we should undress," I grinned.
   He stood up and went over to a bureau, opened it and took out a sheet of
paper.  Then he called to his children to come down and meet his guests. 
Seconds later his children appeared at the door and filed in one after the
other, the girl being first.
   "These are new friends of ours, Mr and Mrs.  Johnston, and they share
our values where discipline is concerned."
   I looked at the children and saw them go a deathly shade of pale and a
tremor go through their bodies.  Peter looked at the sheet of paper in his
hand and then at his wife and children.
   "Richard, you didn't do the wiping up the other day and your mother had
to do it instead.  More fool her!  Jill, you have been a complete pain all
week, moaning and whining about the tasks you were given.  Jane, you were
too lenient with Richard, you managed to burn the potatoes twice this week
and you didn't have my shirt pressed on Wednesday."
   I looked at his family and they all looked down-cast, realising that
they would be punished in front of strangers.
   "Please, daddy.  Not in front of them.  You can cane me harder later,
just not in front of them, please!" said Jill.
   "That's extra for being rude and complaining.  Anyone else have anything
to say?" said Peter sternly.
   Jane and Richard stood staring at the floor.
   "Prepare!" was Peter's one word command and his wife and childen started
to undress.  "Be quick about it, or else," he said threateningly.
   Jill had stripped down to her knickers and Peter just told her to get
them off.  She very reluctantly did so and began crying.  I could see that
Richard had tears in his eyes but he was doing his best not to shed them
yet.
   "All three of you go and stand against the wall," said Peter.
   He then nodded to Bridget and I to undress as he did so himself.  Within
seconds we were as nude as everyone else in the room and I couldn't help
but notice that Peter was sporting an erection, as was I!  If anyone were
to ask I would say that my cock was a bit bigger than his, but he didn't
seem at all bothered when he saw me and just smiled.  He moved a straight
back, armless chair into the middle of the room and invited Bridget to sit
down on it.
   "Richard," he called to his son.  Go and ask Mrs.  Johnston very nicely
if she would be so kind as to spank your bottom hard."
   Richard did as he was told and stood to one side of Bridget to await his
fate, his little penis stiff and bobbing in time to his heartbeat.
   "How many?" my wife asked.
   "Until I say stop," said Peter.
   Bridget pulled the reluctant Richard over her lap, his penis grazing the
top of her left thigh and clamped his legs with her right leg.  She started
the spanking working her hand over both buttocks and his upper thighs. 
After just a few spanks Richard's resolve couln't be contained any longer
and the floodgates opened, tears flowing down his face.  He struggled
fiercely, so much that Peter stopped her and told Jill to hold her
brother's hands.  She did so with a degree of delight on her face.  Now
firmly held, Bridget continued with the spanking.  After about two minutes
and possibly about one-hundred spanks Peter told her to stop and let him
up. He rolled onto the carpet roughly grasping at his bottom trying to ease
the pain, his little penis no longer erect but dribbling some sticky liquid
from the end.  Bridget looked at her thigh and saw some of the same goo
there, scooped it up on a finger and popped it into her mouth with a
devlish grin on her face and then looked up at Peter.
   Peter smiled widely at Bridget and then said, "How many times have I
told you to control yourself, young man?" he addressed his son.
   "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  Couldn't help it!" said Richard still trying to
rub the pain from his bottom, but realising it would mean more pain for him
later.
   Then it was Jill's turn to have her punishment started.  Peter sent her
to me with instructions to use a paddle on her, again until he decided that
it was enough.  I took my place on the chair and took the paddle proffered
by Peter.  I had never seen, let alone used a paddle before but I thought
it must be similar to a large brush.  I pulled a sobbing Jill over my lap,
surreptitiously letting my cock get trapped between her tummy and my thigh.
Heaven!  I too clamped my right leg over Jill's legs and began the
paddling.
   "You can do it harder than that," said Peter, so I did.
   After about fifty or so swats with the paddle Peter told me to stop.  I
released Jill and saw that quite a bit of pre-cum had come from me and left
a wet mark on her tummy.  I was happy, knowing that there was a lot more to
come that evening.  I thought it would be Jane who would be punished next,
but instead it was Richard.
   I guessed that Jane would get hers last of all, possibly to remind the
children that even adults aren't exempt from a good hiding.  Peter went
over to a cupboard, opened a drawer and pulled out two canes; one a junior
and the other a senior.  He put the senior cane to one side and swished the
junior one through the air a few times.
   "Get yourself over that chair," he said to Richard.
   The child knew what to do and got himself in position very quickly.
   "This is for disgracing yourself while Mrs.  Johnston was spanking you."
   He gave Richard six very deliberate, firm strokes on his blazing
buttocks, which had the boy howling after just two strokes.
   "Go and stand against the wall again with your hands on your head.  That
means no touching!"
   Richard did as he was told and seemed to be relieved that it hadn't been
more.
   "Jill," said Peter sternly.  "You know what to do!"
   Jill did know what to do and positioned herself over the chair just as
Richard had done moments earlier.
   "Mrs.  Johnston," he said addressing Bridget.  "Would you be so kind as
to hold onto Jill's hands?  You saw what she was like when your husband
spanked her."
   "Of course," said Bridget.
   My wife took a firm grasp of Jill's hands and nodded to Peter that she
was ready.
   "As I said, Jill.  You have been a pain all week and then you had the
audacity to complain about your punishment.  A good caning is what you
need!"
   Hearing that, Jill began crying, sobbing and trying to say that she was
sorry.
   "Too late for that," said Peter as he lined up the cane against her
well-spanked bottom.
   A few strokes, evenly spaced and then a few laid on quickly (just as
Fred had shown me when I first caned Bridget!) had her screaming.  By the
time I had counted twenty strokes it didn't look as though Peter was going
to finish any time soon.  He went on to give her a total of thirty strokes.
Jill's bottom and legs were a mass of weals and burning skin.  A true
delight!
   Peter pulled me to one side and quietly asked if I was ready to cum yet
or if I could wait until later?  I told him I had been on the verge of
cumming all evening.
   "That's understandable," he said.  "In that case I'll leave Jane's
punishment for a while and we can have some fun until then," he grinned.
   He asked Bridget and myself to take a seat on the sofa.  We did so and
then he first told Richard to come and thank Mrs.  Johnston for his
spanking and then to Jill he said the same thing, but to come to me
instead. Richard dropped to his knees in front of Bridget and placed a hand
on each of her knees.  I saw Bridget relax and let the lad push her legs
apart allowing him access to her pussy.  She gasped out loud as his tongue
grazed her obviously soaking vagina.  I held her hand as Jill came to me,
pushed my legs apart and took my cock in her mouth and down into her
throat. She was gagging a bit but kept at it.  It didn't take her long to
make me cum, and neither, it seemed did Richard.  Bridget and I came almost
simultaneously.  Peter had a pleased look on his face as he told Richard
and Jill to go and stand once more against the wall.  They did that and I
saw that Jane was looking deeply concerned.  I guessed that Peter would
thrash his wife more severely than his children.
   Peter picked up the paddle I had used on Jill earlier and sat himself on
the upright chair.  Jane was called and she came and stood by his side.
   "Over!" he commanded.
   Jane lay across his left thigh and he clamped his right leg over both of
hers having first made sure that her bottom was prominent.
   "Feel free to have the children pleasure you again," he said to Bridget
and me.  "Or pleasure yourselves, or indeed, each other!"
   I looked at Bridget, then at the children who were still standing
against the wall, and back to my wife.  Bridget whispered in my ear that
she would like to have Jill and would I mind having Richard?  I thought
about it for a second and called Richard to me.  I had never had intimate
contact with a male of any age before but I thought it would nice because
it was different.  Bridget shifted her position on the sofa so that both
her bottom and pussy were on clear display and then called Jill over.  I
was in a world of my own when Richard took my cock in his hands and
massaged it before taking it in his mouth.  I didn't register what Jill was
doing to Bridget, but it wasn't difficult to imagine what was going on.  As
my cock slipped into Richard's mouth I heard the first crack of the paddle
whacking into Jane's bottom.  I don't know how long I lasted in the boy's
mouth but when I came Peter stopped paddling his wife.  It could have been
less than a minute or it could have been three or four.  What I do know is
that when I looked over at Jane, who was sobbing fitfully, her bottom and
the tops of her legs were a fiery red with what looked like blisters on
them.  Obviously it was a severe paddling but I knew there would be more to
come for her.  The children were sent to stand facing the wall once more.
That was when I thought it might be only fair if I were to give Bridget a
thrashing.
   I said to Peter, "My wife needs thrashing too.  Just now, she refused my
advances in favour of your daughter.  May I borrow a cane, please?"
   Peter grinned like a Cheshire cat and said, "Of course!  Use anything
you like."
   I got up and took hold of the junior cane and told Bridget to get over
the arm of the sofa and to make sure her legs were together and straight.
   "Jane!" I said.  "Come and hold Bridget's hands."
   Jane came over and tried to sit on the sofa but then decided to kneel
instead to hold her hands.  I let Bridget have it then, caning as fast as I
could.  It was at the rate of about two strokes per second so it only
lasted about half a minute, but the effect was just what I wanted.  Bridget
started screaming after about ten strokes and the tears were flowing freely
very shortly after that.  Jane let go of her hands and Bridget did a lovely
war dance trying to relieve the pain.
   "Very nice," said Peter.  "I may have to try that sometime, if it's OK
with you?"
   "Of course.  Feel free to try anything I do, and I'll try things you
show me that I didn't know about."
   Then he asked, "Obviously, with caning fast like that you can't make
each stroke count as fully as one laid on in a measured way?"
   "That's true," I said.  "I reckon that sixty strokes given quickly is
about the same as twenty to twenty-five normal ones.  Oh, and one other
thing about that is that you need a whippy cane like the junior one you
have.  The senior would be too unwieldy to use that fast."
   "Noted," said Peter as he picked up the senior cane and motioned for
Jane to get over the sofa arm.
   Peter gave his wife twenty firm strokes of the senior cane, which
produced fresh tears from Jane after the third one.  I wasn't surprised as
her bottom and the tops of her legs were a mass of blisters from the
earlier paddling.  As he was caning Jane I noticed that his cock was still
hard and leaking strings of pre-cum.  I looked down at my own cock and saw
that it was in a similar state once again.  Peter stopped caning his wife
and asked me if I would like to administer some anal discipline?  I said I
would and offered him the use of Bridget.  My wife knew better than to
complain and knelt on the sofa facing the back.  Jane knelt next to her.
   "I'm all out of lubrication," said Peter grinning.
   "No problem," I said.  "I have my own!"
   I smeared some pre-cum over my helmet, lined my cock up with Jane's cane
and paddle ravaged bottom hole and pushed.  It took a moment for the head
to gain entry and another moment to get fully in.  Jane was giving out what
sounded like a low growl.  I turned my head to see how Peter was getting on
with Bridget.  He was fully in too and then started to pull out and slammed
back in.  He didn't last too long, but that was no surprise as it was his
first cum of the evening.  I lasted about two minutes inside Jane.  I
pulled Jane off the sofa so that she was kneeling in front of me and
indicated that she must take my cock in her mouth and make me clean.  Peter
had stayed inside Bridget after he orgasmed but then saw what I was doing
and had Bridget do the same for him.
   "Would you ever consider giving anal discipline like this to the
children?" I asked Peter.
   "I hadn't really considered that before but I'll think about it.  As
we're being candid may I presume that you do?"
   "Yes, we both do in fact.  Bridget uses a vibrator on Amy while I use
what god gave me," I grinned.
   "I have a few questions as I'm sceptical about doing anything like
this."
   "No problem, it's not for everyone," I said.
   "We started with Amy when she was still at her mother's breast.  I would
substitute Bridget's breast for my cock quite regularly, letting her suckle
me to orgasm which I would spurt on her face.  The first time I penetrated
her anus was on her sixth birthday."
   I noted with some pleasure that Peter's penis was once more rampant and
Jane was breathing hard and her eyes were bright trying to contain her
excitement.
   "I have a feeling you want to try it, and soon!"
   "Oh, god, yes.  I'm so glad you mentioned it.  It's good to know that
it's not a taboo for everyone!" said Peter.
   "It's still a taboo, but that makes it so much more exciting," I said
with glee.
   "Definitely something for Jane and I to think about.  I couldn't
possibly do anything tonight.  As I mentioned we're all out of lubrication
and it wouldn't be right without it, at least not for a first time with
ones so young."
   "You may want to just give simple anus stretching exercises to begin
with until they're ready for you and Jane.  Using fingers or a candle is a
pretty good way to start the stretching and work up from there, but
whatever you decide is entirely up to you," said Bridget
   "Those cokes I had earlier have gone through my system," I said to no
one in particular.  "Where is your bathroom?"
   Peter said, "Jill, fetch the bucket and towel for Mr Johnston."
   "Bucket?  Towel?" I queried.
   "Yes.  I think you'll find this interesting."
   Jill scampered off to get the items and was soon back in the lounge. 
She spread the towel on the floor and folded it in half to double the
thickness and placed the bucket on top.  She stayed kneeling on the floor
with her mouth open looking at me.  I looked at Peter quizzically.
   "There's the toilet," he said with a huge grin on his face.
   I understood and went to where Jill was kneeling.  I pointed my soft
cock at her mouth, but she came closer in order to actually put it inside
her mouth.  I was a bit hesitant but very soon I could feel my urine
starting its journey to freedom.  The first spurt of pee caused Jill to
shudder in surprise but I sensed her swallowing it.  As this was something
new to me I didn't know that I should be controlling my peeing to make sure
that Jill got it all.  I just let it all come out and that caused little
Jill's mouth to overflow, spilling my urine into the bucket.  Some spilt
onto the towel so I could see why it was necessary for the bucket and towel
to be there.
   "Anyone else need the toilet," asked Peter mischievously.
   "I do," said both Bridget and Jane as one voice.
   "I do, too," said Peter.
   He called Richard to come over and help.  Richard looked particularly
disconcerted.  It was obviously something he didn't relish doing, but he
knew better than to disobey his father.
   "Be a good toilet for Mrs.  Johnston, Richard."
   Bridget stood over his face and he clamped his mouth over her pussy with
the bucket directly beneath them.  My wife didn't hesitate as I heard her
pee filling his mouth rapidly before he swallowed and was ready for more.
   Peter said, "My turn," and told Jill to take her brother's place over
the bucket.
   "But I can't take any more," whined Jill.
   "Do you want another caning?"
   "No, no, no.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  I'll do it."
   I could see Jill's stomach actually distending with all the urine she
had swallowed.  Peter finished peeing and he moved away so that Jane could
take her place.  Richard got in position too and Jane was soon filling his
mouth and stomach with her fluids.
   Jill then said she needed to go to the toilet and Richard said the same.
"You two can use the toilet upstairs.  When you've done that I want you
both in bed.  I'll come up and check later.  The two children scampered out
of the room, one blazing bottom followed by one not quite so!
   "I hope you have enjoyed this evening, Ken," said Peter as Bridget and I
were getting dressed.
   Peter and Jane didn't bother putting their clothes back on.  There was
no point as they were at home and would be going to bed soon anyway.
   "Very much so.  I've learned quite a bit too," I replied.  "How about
you and your family coming to our home next time?"
   "That would be wonderful," he said.
   "Would next week be too soon?" I asked.
   "That's a bit soon, but a monthly get-together would be better, as long
as it's on a Friday evening as that's our 'consequence night' anyway.  Is
that OK with you?"
   "Fine," I said.  "Just one thing.  My parents-in-law will be there. 
Gillian is Amy's teacher as well as grand-mother and both she and Fred, my
father-in-law, have an input into how discipline is dealt with.  By the
way, Gillian isn't above having a good hiding every so often!"
   "The more the merrier.  Do you think you should invite Edith as she was
good enough to introduce us?" said Peter.  "That would be fair, wouldn't
it?"
   Bridget and I were shown to the door by Peter.  I shook his hand and he
kissed Bridget on the cheek.
   I said, "Thanks again for a wonderful evening, Peter."
   "My pleasure.  See you soon," he smiled.
   We got in the car and drove home.  Bridget had to sit on her side as it
was obviously too painful to sit properly.
   **************************************
   Sometime back in 19XX, we received some news from Edith; both sad and
exciting.  Edith's sister and brother-in-law had died in a swimming
tragedy, leaving their daughter, Sarah, orphaned.  Edith did the only thing
she could and adopted Sarah as her own.  Sarah would have been about
eleven-years-old at the time.  Because of this, Edith went part-time as a
home-schooling inspector and, because she is a qualified teacher she taught
Sarah at home.
   I seem to remember that it was a while before we were introduced to
Sarah, but I soon discovered the reason.  Edith told me that she had been
grooming Sarah to be ready for the first time we met.  Although Sarah had
been regularly spanked by both her parents, she had never been caned.  All
she had ever had was the brush and strap.  It was the cane and being nude
that Edith was getting her accustomed to!  According to Edith, Sarah's
screams when being thrashed are a delight and also told me that she caned
Sarah twice a week and use the strap or brush in between times if needed -
but that wasn't often.
   When Edith decided it was time to get us introduced, it was unfortunate
that Peter and his family were off on their holidays.  Never-the-less, I
invited them round to my place for the evening.  Those present were:-
Gillian, Bridget, Amy, Edith, Sarah and me.  Fred had to go to an
unavoidable meeting of some sort.  That was fine as it meant that there
were three people to be thrashed (Bridget, Amy and Sarah although that
number would go up to five by the end of the evening!) and three to carry
it out.  The evening started off cordially: The adults (except Bridget) had
a stiff drink and the others had something soft.  Then I decided the time
had come to start things off properly, stood up and started undressing. 
The others took this as the signal to get undressed too, although Sarah was
reluctant until Edith gave her a few hard slaps across her pretty little
bottom.  Soon we were ready.
   "Some bottom warming-up first," I said.  "Bridget will go and ask Edith
nicely for a good spanking while Gillian will spank Amy and I will be
responsible for Sarah," I grinned.  "The spankers can use hand, brush or
both!"
   Soon, the room was filled with shrieks and screams as three lovely
bottoms were lovingly dealt with by their respective spankers.  I noticed
that Edith had picked up a brush to use on Bridget while both Gillian and I
used our hands.  Gradually, bodies were eased off the laps of the spankers
and allowed to writhe around on the carpet.  I had enough of watching the
writhing bodies and told them to get up and go and stand against the wall
with hands on head.  Although I desperately wanted to cane Sarah, I thought
it was only fair if the spankees were spread around a bit, so Edith was
going to cane Amy, Gillian to cane Sarah and me to cane Bridget.  I knew
that one day soon I would get the opportunity of caning Sarah and I'm a
fairly patient man!  I invited Gillian and Edith to select the cane they
wanted to use from the cupboard.  Gillian asked Edith what sort of cane she
used on Sarah so she wouldn't choose the wrong one.  Edith said that Sarah
had been given the junior cane so far, but could be given a dose of the
senior if Gillian felt like it.
   Gillian said, "There's one answer to that.  I'll use two on her!"
   A loud sob emanated from Sarah, still standing against the wall,
obviously fearful (as she should be) of the thrashing to come.  Likewise,
Edith asked what Amy was usually caned with?  Gillian said that Amy usually
got the junior cane, but, like Sarah, could be given some of the senior
although she had never had it before.
   "She will get it eventually on a regular basis, but I think now is as
good a time as any to start.  Would you agree, Ken?"
   "I do, Gillian.  Perhaps fifteen with the junior and five with the
senior.  The same for Sarah."
   Edith nodded her agreement and asked whether we should cane all at once
or one at a time?
   "One at a time," I said.  "Let the others watch and hear the thrashings.
Edith, would you be so good as to start by thrashing my errant daughter,
please?  Fifteen with the junior to start with.  She can be given the
senior later.  The same thing for Sarah," I said to Gillian.
   I moved an armchair towards the middle of the room and told Amy to lay
across it in the time-approved manner.  She did so with just a hint of
reluctance.  I asked Gillian to hold Amy's hands.  Edith took hold of a
junior cane, adjusted her position until she was happy and looked to me for
the sign to start.  I nodded my head and Edith raised the cane to about
shoulder height and slashed it down on Amy's crimson bottom.  Amy let out
an almighty screech and struggled in Gillian's grip, but she soon settled
down as she had been trained to do to await the next stroke.  While Edith
was caning Amy I happened to look down at Edith's legs and noticed that
they were glistening slightly.  For a second I thought it might be sweat
but quickly realised it was her vaginal secretions.  She was very aroused,
and for good reason!  For my part, my penis was leaking pre-cum!
   Her caning over for the time being, Gillian released Amy's hands and let
her roll around on the floor.  Amy's hands clutched at her burning bottom
in an ill-advised attempt to alleviate the pain.  Watching Amy squirm
around made my penis throb even more excitedly so I made a conscious effort
to take my mind off things and try to relax.  After all, there were still
(at least) two more bottoms to be dealt with!  Try as I might I couldn't
control myself as I felt my spunk rising.  Without a second thought I knelt
on the floor next to where Amy was still writhing, grabbed her head and
pulled her to me.  She opened her mouth and I pushed in.  Within seconds I
was blowing my load into my daughter's willing (well, maybe not that
willing!) throat.  I pulled out thinking I was spent but another spurt rose
up through my cock and I aimed it at Amy's face.  I stayed like that until
I was sure I was empty.  Then something totally surprising happened.  Sarah
scrambled over to Amy and licked my spunk off her face!  A moment later,
Sarah looked up at me, then down to my deflating penis, took it in her
mouth cleaning me thoroughly and then matter-of-factly stated that she used
to do that for her daddy.  Edith broke the reverie of the moment by saying
that Sarah hadn't told her that fact before.
   Sarah replied, "I'm sorry.  I didn't think of it."
   "What?  Even after I asked specifically what your punishments consisted
of?"
   "Sorry, but I didn't think of that as punishment, just a reward for the
punishment."
   "I see," said Edith.  "Did you give your mummy a reward for punishing
you too?"
   "Yes.  Mommy liked having me lick her pee-pee and..." she paused
slightly, "...her bottom."
   With a smile playing about her mouth, Edith then asked Sarah, "What will
Mrs Willington's reward be when she's caned you?"
   "With respect, Mum, that's not up to me," said Sarah.
   Edith looked really pleased with Sarah's response.  In my view Sarah was
more like twenty-one-years old rather than the eleven she was.  I was very
impressed!
   "Your turn for caning," I said addressing Sarah.
   She stood up off the floor and positioned herself over the armchair,
bottom well raised.  Very well trained, I thought.  A credit to her parents
and Edith.  Gillian collected the junior cane which had been used on Amy
and got herself ready.  She looked to me for the signal.  I nodded my head
and Gillian started the caning.  Gillian didn't hold back too much and
really let her have it!  I was even more impressed that Sarah made hardly
any movement while being caned; instead letting her vocal chords do the
work.  Her screams were everything I could have wished for.  The caning
over Sarah pushed herself up and went, without needing to be told, to go
and stand against the wall, still sobbing fitfully.
   I sat down for a while and asked Edith and Gillian to do the same.
   "Before I thrash my darling wife, would either of you two ladies like
some release?" I asked.
   "Oh, god, yes," they both said in unison.
   "Amy, come over here and give Mrs.  McDermot the release she needs and
you, Sarah, come here and do the same for Mrs.  Willington."
   The two young girls came over and knelt in front of their respective
ladies.  Within seconds the room was filled with the sounds of ecstacy from
two women having their pussies expertly eaten out!  While Edith and Gillian
were still in the throes of passion with their young charges I got up and
went to retrieve a senior cane from the cupboard, ready to use on Bridget.
I swished it through the air a couple of times and I noticed the ecstatic
sounds die down a bit.  The two young girls sat themselves between Gillian
and Edith on the sofa.  I asked Sarah if she knew that adult women need
thrashing too?
   "Yes, I do.  I often saw Daddy punish Mommy."
   "That's good," I said, "because that's what's going to happen next.  I'm
going to thrash my wife for things she has done in the last week.  You
needn't concern yourself with the details.  You just have to know that she
is going to be caned more soundly than you have been, or will be, caned
tonight.  She is much older than you or Amy so should know better."
   Sarah nodded that she understood.
   Bridget was trembling like a leaf as I went and took her arm and guided
her to the armchair.  She said nothing but her eyes pleaded with me.  I
gave her a look that suggested I would be fairly lenient and she took her
place over the armchair.  Naturally, I had no intention of being lenient. I
took my position, raised the heavy cane over my shoulder and swished it
down on to her bright red bottom.  I think she realised that I wouldn't be
going easy on her and so it proved.  Thirty strokes later I stopped and
watched as Bridget gasped for air in between emitting huge sobs.  Her face
was wet from her copious tears.
   "Amy," I said.  "You still have another caning to come.  Go and get over
the armchair and wait for Mrs McDermot."
   She did just that, knowing that failure to comply would result in
something even worse.  When she was ready, Edith got up, took hold of the
senior cane and positioned herself.  She looked at me and I gave her the
nod to start the second caning.  Five scorching strokes landed amid screams
of pure agony from Amy, but to her credit she didn't need to be held down.
A moment later and Sarah took Amy's place.  Edith handed the cane to
Gillian who waited for my signal to begin.  I nodded and Gillian slashed
the cane hard into Sarah's bottom, and then placed the next four either
side of that first one.  Sarah screamed really delightfully.
   When Sarah had calmed down enough I told her to go and tend to her mom,
Edith.  I also told Bridget to take care of her mother and Amy came to me.
Unfortunately, I came in a matter seconds, but no matter.  I saw that the
two ladies were on the verge of cumming, especially Edith as Sarah slipped
a finger up her bottom.
   At that moment the door opened and in walked Fred, just back from his
meeting.
   "Darn!  I was hoping to get back a bit sooner but I couldn't get away.
It looks like three well-thrashed bottoms I can see," he grinned.  "I don't
suppose there are any fresh bottoms in need of caning, are there?" he said
mischieviously as he looked first at Edith and then at his wife, Gillian.
   The two ladies coloured up a bit.
   "Well, I suppose I am overdue something," said Edith.  "It's been a
while, but..." she left it unsaid.
   "That's settled then," said Fred, "Ken, you deal with my wife and I will
deal with Mrs McDermot here.  So, Edith, before you change your mind?" said
Fred indicating the armchair.
   With hardly any hesitation, Edith got up and laid herself over the arm.
She put her hands either side of the cushion on the seat and gripped
tightly.  Fred took his time.  First, he slowly undressed, which finally
revealed his erection.  Then he took his time choosing from the three
senior canes I have which to use.  his selection made, he went back to
where Edith was waiting.  He flexed the cane in his hands, almost, but not
quite, bending it into a circle.  When he released the business end it
sprang back straight.  He caned Edith slowly so it took a while for the
caning to be completed.  By the time he had delivered thirty strokes, Edith
was beside herself.
   "Oh.  Thank you, Fred.  That was just what the doctor ordered!" She
managed to grin when she said that.  "It was just like being young again
and Daddy having to dispense discipline.  Quite different to the canings
I've had since then!" she smiled.
   "You might want to stay laying on the armchair, my dear," said Fred as
without much warning he moved between her legs and plunged his penis into
her pussy.
   He fucked her for no more than about thirty seconds when we could all
see that he was about to cum.  He stayed inside her for a moment and then
withdrew.  As I had done earlier he had a bit more in him which spurted
onto Edith's striped buttocks.  Also as before, Sarah came over and licked
Edith's bottom, catching as much sperm as she could before turning to Fred.
She took his penis in her mouth and proceded to clean him up.  Fred stood
there with a slightly stupified look on his face.
   Fred regained his composure after a moment or two and then said to me,
"My dear Ken.  I want Gillian's inner thighs caned, if you would be so
kind?"
   "Of course," I said.  "How many?"
   "Twenty each thigh, please."
   "No problem," I said.
   I took Gillian over to the settee and had her lie down lengthways on it.
I then asked Fred to come and hold her first leg upright.  He did so while
I got a junior cane which is nice and whippy; perfect for the job in hand.
I tapped it against her thigh, lifted the cane back and slashed it onto her
thigh just above her pussy.  Her scream tore through the house.  Nineteen
more slashes and nineteen more screams, albeit becoming softer in tone as I
went about my business.  That leg was lowered and her other leg raised in
its place.  I repositioned myself so that I could easily get to the target.
The first slash and a fresh scream came from Gillian whose face was so wet
one would think she had just come out of the shower.  As the caning
progressed, Gillian's screams lowered in intensity but one could tell she
was in a lot of discomfort.  That was not my problem as I brusquely turned
her over and roughly entered her pussy making sure my legs rubbed against
her stripey inner thighs.  She didn't seem to know to cry in agony or lust.
   A New Girl
   One day back in 19XX I got a call from Edith asking whether or not I
would be prepared to have another child in the house to share lessons with
Amy.  Edith gave me the reasons for proposing this idea and I said I would
talk to Gillian, in particular, and the others to make sure it would be
alright with them.  I didn't have to ask if Julia had ever been physically
disciplined before as Edith wouldn't have asked in the first place! 
Gillian was willing to have Julia in class with her and I called Edith back
to arrange a meeting with both Jill (the girl's mother) and Julia.
   Edith arrived with Jill and Julia the following evening.  We sat in the
lounge talking for a while, discussing payment, class hours and what was
expected of Julia.  Then I asked Jill if she would like to see the
classroom?  She did, so I accompanied her along with Gillian and Julia
(Bridget stayed behind to fix some drinks and snacks and Edith had to go to
another appointment) to the small bedroom which serves as the classroom. 
Jill's eyes scanned the room, nodding as she took in the various features
on show.  She did a double take when she saw the canes and strap hanging on
the wall.
   "I hope those aren't just for show," she smiled.
   "Certainly not," said Gillian.  "They tend to get a fair bit of use."
   "Excellent!  Although she's never had the strap or cane I fully approve
of their use."
   "Mum!" exclaimed Julia reddening at the thought of what she could expect
in the way of punishments.
   "Quiet, girl.  If you work hard enough then there will be no need for
any punishments, but woe betide you if you make a mess of things here and
don't forget that if you do receive punishment here then you will get the
same again when you get home," replied Jill.
   Turning to Gillian and I, Jill went on, "Julia's only ever been spanked
with my hand or a hairbrush - for convenience, you see.  I wouldn't know
where to start looking for straps or, more particularly, canes."
   I said I could either supply some for her use at home or get Edith to
let her have some.  I also mentioned we were alike in that if Amy had been
in trouble during the day then she would also get a further punishment when
I got home.  Jill thanked me and I suggested we go back to the lounge to
discuss things further.
   "I'm sure Edith must have told you quite a bit about us and our methods
before you came round." I said putting a slight emphasis on the word
'methods'.
   Jill picked up it straight away.
   "Ah!  I think you're referring to intimate discipline?  Julia is no
stranger to that, particularly anal discipline, I assure you, and if you're
looking for my consent then you have it to discipline her in any way you
see fit."
   Gillian and I both beamed big smiles at Jill, but Julia was squirming on
her seat, her face becoming redder and redder with embarrassment.
   "I would ask one thing though and that is I don't want her getting
pregnant," said Jill.
   "No problem with that request," I said.  "I much prefer anal or oral
discipline anyway."
   Jill gave me a wide smile and said, "I know I will be happy for Julia to
be here getting the lessons she needs.  Can we talk in private for a few
moments.  There are some things I need to talk about that I don't want
Julia to hear."
   "Yes, of course," I said as I called Amy to come and meet her new
classmate.  "Take Julia to your room while we talk."
   "Yes, Daddy."
   With the two young girls gone Jill started talking.
   "I expect you have some questions for me?  I think I know what they will
be so I'll tell you.  I was brought up in a fairly strict home but I
realised it had been a bit too comfortable for me as I started playing
around in my teen years and seemed to get away with murder!  I had to
really step out of line to get a punishment of any sort; usually a dose of
the brush but occasionally it was the cane, so you see I'm no stranger to
it which is why I approve of its use.  As for intimate punishments, well,
that was something my mother brought to the proceedings.  She had been
raised to expect them when it was considered necessary.  In her case that
was quite often.  Although she did the same things to me I'm sure it was a
lot less frequently, but none-the-less it was something that stayed with me
and I resolved to do the same to any children I had.  My father used to
discipline me anally and orally, so that's something else I approve of you
doing.  Julia's father: Hmmm, what can I say about him?  Not a lot really.
We weren't married but he left me when I was pregnant with Julia which, as
it turned out, was a good thing as I don't think he would have appreciated
my methods of disciplining Julia."
   "Thank you for being so candid, Jill.  That all sounds pretty normal," I
smiled.  "But before you go there is something I need to tell you and
something I feel I must ask you."
   "Anything," said Jill.
   "The first thing is to tell you that the dress-code here is a tee-shirt
and short skirt, no underwear, but punishments are done entirely in the
nude - unless the heating packs up in the winter time, of course!"
   "Not a problem," said Jill.  "When I punish Julia at home we are both
naked."
   I went on, "Tell me, if you would, if you still have your bottom caned,
even occasionally?"
   "Regrettably not," she replied, "but I know where I can come when I feel
I have let others or myself down and need reminding of my
responsibilities," she smiled knowingly at me.
   My penis jumped in my pants and I found out later that it hadn't gone
unnoticed by Gillian!  Jill then stated that if she ever did feel the need
to be caned or spanked again then she would prefer it was not done front of
Julia.  "I need to keep some things from her!"
   "Fair enough," I said as I gave her a peck on the cheek and we all said
our good-byes.
   The next part was related to me by Gillian as I was at work.  Monday
morning came and at 8.30 on the dot the doorbell rang.  Gillian opened the
door and found Jill and Julia standing there.  She let them in and as Julia
took her coat off it was obvious that she had noted the dress-code.
   "I believe this is how you want her for lessons?" said Jill.  Gillian
said that it was.  "I've got to get to work now, but I hope she's no
problem for you today.  I've told her to behave and to do everything that
is asked of her if she wants to avoid punishment."
   "That's right," said Gillian.  "No one ever gets punished without good
cause."
   The door closed and Gillian led Julia to the classroom where Amy was
already waiting for lessons to start.  Amy looked at her new classmate over
from top to toe when Gillian told them both to face front.  Gillian spent a
little time explaining the rules of the classroom to Julia, in particular
that there would be no talking unless she was spoken to by Gillian, until
break times.  If either Julia or Amy wanted to ask something then they
would have to raise their hands to attract Gillian's attention.
   Both girls were well-behaved until the first break time.  Gillian had
gone to fetch some refreshments and came back to find the girls bickering
over something.  Gillian ordered them to be quiet and return to their seats
before asking what was going on.  Amy said that Julia had pinched her skin
because she was looking at her new classmate's covering of hair on her mons
under her short skirt.
   "Is this true, Julia?"
   Looking suddenly downcast, Julia replied that it was true.
   "Why were you looking at Julia like that, Amy?"
   "I suppose it's because I'm curious why she has hair there and I don't,"
replied Amy.
   "I see.  Well, I didn't have any until I was twelve.  Our bodies develop
at different rates and I'm sure you will have some before too long.  But, I
fail to understand why you, Julia, had to pinch Amy because she was looking
at you.  And you, Amy, did you ask to look?"
   "No, Nanna, I didn't.  I'm sorry."
   "Very well," said Gillian.  "You've both earned a punishment, but yours,
Julia, is going to be a bit more painful because you retaliated
unnecessarily."
   Gillian decided that this didn't warrant a caning and instead chose a
strap.
   "You first, Amy."
   Amy got up from her desk and laid across it.  The strap whistled down
six times over her proffered bottom.  Amy was told to sit back at her desk.
She did so cautiously.
   "Now you, Julia.  Do what Amy has just shown you."
   Julia also got up and prostrated herself across her desk, but this time
the strap landed ten times on her rapidly reddening buttocks.
   "Let that be a lesson to both of you.  I will not tolerate anything like
that ever again.  If it does happen again then I assure you it will be with
the help of Mister Swish here," she said indicating the cane.
   Neither of the girls gave Gillian any further problems during the day.
   I had just pulled up outside the house when another car pulled up behind
me.  I got out and saw that it was Jill coming to collect her daughter.  I
opened the front door and showed Jill in.  Waiting there for us was Gillian
and the two girls.
   "Turn around, Amy," I said.  "Show me if you've been spanked today."
   She did so and I saw the evidence of a light strapping.
   "I see," I said.  "That's another spanking for you a bit later."
   "Now you, Julia," said Jill.
   Julia turned around, tears forming in her eyes, to show her more
vigourously strapped behind.
   "You know our rule, don't you?"
   "Yes, Mummy," said Julia with tears now rolling down her face.
   Julia slipped on her coat and waited in silence for her mother to take
her home.  Jill and Gillian talked for a moment discussing the day's
events.
   "What a spiteful little girl," said Jill.  "If there is a next time for
this sort of behaviour then please don't be soft on her.  Give her a good
thrashing, God knows she needs it!"
   Jill thanked Gillian for looking after Julia and dragged her daughter by
the arm to her car.
   I had a later start at work the next morning so I was present when Julia
arrived for school.  I told her to remove her coat and lift her skirt.  She
did so with no hesitation and I saw that her mother had indeed given her a
vigorous spanking the previous evening.  Although the redness had all but
gone it was obvious that Jill hadn't messed about with Julia's spanking.  I
had no doubt that Julia would have difficulty sitting still at her desk, as
would Amy who also had further punishment from me.
   Sad News
   But that particular day would be remembered for a completely different
reason.  Fred had just strapped Bridget's pussy and anus and was giving her
some personal anal discipline when he suffered a stroke.  Bridget didn't
know what was happening until he pulled out of her and slumped into a
chair, his face distorted down one side, his arms limp and his speech
slurred.  Bridget screamed for Gillian to come quickly.  Gillian, although
obviously beside herself with fright, had the presence of mind to call an
ambulance and to get him dressed for when they arrived.  They had only just
got him dressed when the paramedics were knocking on the door.  They
quickly assessed him and put him on a wheeled chair to take him to the
ambulance.  He left this world in the back of that ambulance with Gillian
holding his hand tightly and his last memories would have been of him
disciplining his daughter.  I hope they were as good a memory as he could
have had.
   Amy and Julia were frightened by all the commotion that had gone on, but
were as good as gold for the rest of the day in the company of Bridget;
Gillian having stayed at the hospital with her husband.  I got the call at
work from Bridget and I came home as quickly as I could.  There was little
I could do except to give comfort to Bridget and Amy.  Julia also needed
some comforting.  When I was sure that these three ladies were ok I set off
for the hospital.  I found Gillian and she collapsed into my arms, sobbing
fitfully.  I brought her home as there was nothing she or myself could do.
   DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction not fact.  The two are very
different.
   
  
Readers' Stories Special, Volume 1