This story is a sequel to, Three Visits, which should ideally be read first.
It contains graphic descriptions of consensual and semi-consensual corporal punishment in the form of caning, paddling, and whipping. If this offends you, you may prefer to stop reading.
All the participants in this story are adults over the age of eighteen years. None of the characters depicted are real and any similarity to real places or people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Please take the time to comment and score. Any constructive criticism, positive or negative, is welcome.
As always, any errors in editing are mine and mine alone. These are inevitable. I am not writing for profit but for fun - both yours and mine.
Aftermath
The cast
Helen
An hour after she left the study, Helen Morgan was alone in bed. More precisely, she was on top of the bed having thrown her duvet on the floor before she lay down. It was mid-March and cold outside. The central heating had switched itself off two hours earlier, and the temperature in her bedroom was cooling. Nonetheless, Helen preferred not to snuggle down under the bedclothes but lay naked on her belly with her bum in the air.
If the light had been switched on, an observer would have been able to see her buttocks, heavily marked and swollen from her well-earned caning. Miss Grainger had performed a thoroughly proficient job, and the eighteen separate welts had now coalesced into a tender mass of purple- blue bruising.
Far from being contrite, Helen was angry and resentful. Her caning had been awful - more painful than she had ever imagined, and in her view, it had been undeserved.
OK, she'd crashed her mother's car into Roger's Nissan, but they were both insured, and nobody was out of pocket. It wasn't as if it had been deliberate. It had been a fucking accident and none of it would have happened if that cow, Janis, hadn't wanted a lift home and that bitch, Miss Grainger, hadn't been on the drive in her fucking Saab. In any case, taking a swing at somebody did not justify the beating that she had been given. She still found it difficult to believe that her own mother had encouraged Miss Grainger to punish her whilst Mrs Walker had held her down and stared impassively into her eyes as she was being caned. At that moment, she hated them all. Right then, the only one who had been in the study that evening whom she didn't dislike was Roger. As far as Helen knew, he had nothing to do with the decision to cane her and had done a good job on Janis's arse, even if the bitch had taken it well and deserved far more than the dozen she received.
In her mind, she played back Roger's caning of Janis and the way he had methodically and pitilessly applied a dozen strokes of the cane to her big bare bottom. She wished she could see a repeat performance when she wasn't scared shitless by the prospect of getting some of the same when he was finished. Even so, she was able to recall his tight bum, broad shoulders, and muscular arms, and the look of intense concentration and satisfaction on his face as he swung the cane. It was clear that he had enjoyed his task. Only she and Mrs Walker had seen his cock was stiff with arousal and straining inside his jeans when Janis's caning was over. She wondered how he was able to deliver so much pain to somebody he was fucking.
Miss Grainger, she thought she could understand. She was a cruel vindictive bitch who wanted revenge and had taken her opportunity to get it. Helen was sure Miss Grainger had enjoyed caning her and had seen nothing but pleasure in Mrs Walker's eyes as she had kept a vice-like grip on her wrists.
Obviously, her mother had enjoyed watching her suffering. Even through her agony, she had heard her voice. It had been cold and cruel.
"Make her sorry, Mrs Grainger... Lay it on hard... Does it hurt? you little bitch. I hope it hurts... Oh, how I hope it hurts."
Of recent, her relationship with her mother had been going downhill but Helen had not realised just how angry her mother was with her. Maybe it was time to leave home and go to live with her boyfriend? Not yet she decided - the bitch would like that. What right did her mother have to tell her how to behave. If her mother weren't such a whore, she wouldn't have been unfaithful to her dad, and they wouldn't have divorced. Maybe then they wouldn't dislike one another so intensely.
She reached behind herself, ran her fingers over her bum cheeks, still hot to touch, and wondered what her boyfriend, David, would say when he saw them. Then she wondered what Roger had thought when he did see them and whether he enjoyed the spectacle of her thrashing and remained hard. or grew harder. as he watched. She found herself hoping that he was aroused enough to want to fuck her.
Even before she started to fantasise about Roger, her punishment had left her moist, and now Roger's strength and cruelty and the thought he might want to fuck her turned her on further. She wondered what he was like in bed, and despite her discomfort, she reached down between her legs and started to rub.
***
Mrs Morgan
At that moment, Helen was not the only one frigging herself and thinking of Roger. Just down the hall, in her bedroom, Mrs Morgan was also naked on her bed although she was lying on her back with her bare buttocks against the mattress and her thick thighs spread wide. She had inserted a long thick dildo into her cunt and was holding a wand against her clitoris. Looking back at her from the mirror on the wardrobe opposite her bed she saw an attractive MILF with wavy black hair and blue eyes.
She was of medium height - five feet, six inches in her stockinged feet, small-titted with boobs the size of oranges, and narrow-waisted with a big round fat arse. Despite her pretty and innocent looks, she was sexually voracious between the sheets - or pretty much anywhere else for that matter. Mrs Morgan was still a couple of years on the right side of forty years old, having had Helen when she was very young and had divorced five years earlier. She had been left with the house and no financial worries, and she had not remarried, preferring not to saddle Helen with a stepfather. Instead, she had had a string of lovers, and she sometimes wondered whether this or simple genetics was the cause of Helen's promiscuity.
Fiona Morgan was a pillar of the community, a local councillor, and a member of the board of governors at the school where Mrs Walker and Miss Grainger taught. She knew all about the pair of them but had said nothing. People's private lives were theirs alone. Hers would certainly not hold up to close scrutiny.
She valued her respectable and conservative image and did not want anything to detract from it, including Helen's bad behaviour. Helen had recently called her a "fucking snob," but Mrs Morgan did not think it was snobbish to object to your young daughter sleeping around.
That early morning in March, she was an extremely frustrated woman. She had sent her most recent lover packing three weeks ago. It wasn't that he was married, or even that he had her and a second mistress on the side. He was unable to satisfy her in the bedroom department and this had persuaded her to finish with him. She assumed that three women had been too much for him. Whatever the reason might have been, the result was that she hadn't had a man for almost a month. Fiona Morgan needed dick, the bigger, the harder, and the more often the better, and earlier that evening after Roger had caned Janis and watched Helen get hers, she had seen his bulging groin. Now, she fantasised about having him.
He was almost perfect - tall, strong, young, good-looking, cruel enough to enjoy giving a good hard spanking to the girl that he was fucking, well-endowed by nature, and inexperienced enough to be embarrassed when a woman showed appreciation.
His only imperfections were that he was unmarried and was Janis's boyfriend. Mrs Morgan preferred to fuck married men because she liked her affairs to remain secret and chose men who had more to lose than she did if things became public. She didn't want long-term commitment either, just sex, and ideally liked to have at least two lovers on the go at the same time. Her record had been three, and she had had no problem in keeping them all very satisfied - and all very hidden.
For a moment her thoughts returned to the events of the evening. She was surprised but not shocked by how she had felt as she watched the two young women caned. In Helen's case, it was so deserved, although she might have benefitted from more. She could see that Helen's rebellious spirit had not been broken.
In Janis's case, it was different. It was sexual and erotic. Whilst she could clearly see that Roger enjoyed the process and Janis had not, nonetheless Janis had acquiesced and almost seemed to welcome the pain. It was clear that this was not the first time that she had been caned and Mrs Morgan wondered if she was a masochist.
For the first time, Fiona Morgan wondered how it would feel to be the one holding the cane, standing over a pair of deserving male buttocks.
Now, as she masturbated, she thought of Roger.
First, she imagined him delivering a second thrashing to Helen. He was bare-chested as he mercilessly caned her, Helen sobbing and writhing every time the rod bit into her flesh. Then she imagined him lying naked between her own legs, driving his long hard penis deep into her cunt and making her come over and over again.
The vibrator gently hummed as she held it tight against her bud, whilst with the other hand she moved the dildo in and out.
***
