"Ouch!" Mary Whittington sharply clenched the
naked cheeks of her backside together. The first stroke of the cane, no matter
how many times she experienced it, and she'd experienced it a lot in her twenty
eight years, always took her breath away with its fiery sting. She pulled ineffectually against the leather
straps that bound her voluptuous body tight to the whipping frame.
"Shut your noise and keep still or I'll really give
you something to cry about!" To emphasise her point Claire lashed the cane
down for a second wicked stroke.
"Argh! Sorry,
Madam." Claire, a couple of years younger, always played the part so well.
Too well sometimes. A third searing stroke struck Mary on her reddening cheeks.
Today Claire was the strict Headmistress, complete with black gown and mortar
board, as well as cane. On another day she might be the disgruntled boss and Mary
her incompetent secretary. Or she may be the lady of the manor and Mary her
hapless maid. There were endless possibilities. This was Mary's favourite but
they always ended the same way; a very severe session of corporal
punishment. The fourth stroke struck Mary's bottom. God, it hurt but she
needed it so. To forget the pain she tried to concentrate on what would happen
later. Claire would put away the cane, untie her from the bench and apply soothing
oil to her inflamed cheeks. She would then order her to go down on her and lick
her to an intense orgasm. This was always an exciting point. Mary didn't know
if she'd then be rewarded herself by Claire's fingers, or if she were really
lucky, her tongue, or told she was a useless bitch and ordered back over the
bench for a further whipping. Claire knew just how to push her limits and she'd
taken some very severe canings on that bench. There was always one aspect that
slightly spoiled it for Mary, though; the fact that, just by saying a 'safe
word' she could end it straight away. Claire would respect that absolutely and
the whipping would cease or be toned down, whatever Mary wanted. The supreme
irony in all this was that, despite obeying Claire's every order in her
Headmistress role and taking some searing punishment from her prolific cane
she, Mary, was in charge. She only had to say the word and Claire would stop.
Mary found that slightly depressing. Although she loved
her sessions with Claire and they got as real as was possible, she longed to be
in an environment where she had no choice. Where she really was subject to a
sound thrashing if she messed up, whether he liked it or not. But there was another
side to this complex lady. She loved to give as well as receive. She enjoyed
laying the cane on a screaming girl’s naked backside as much as she did being
in that position herself. She loved to see the writhing bottom and hear the
pleas for mercy and the 'thwack' of cane on bare flesh.
Claire, true to her dominant nature, wasn't into being on
the receiving end. She knew a few girls who were, though, and occasionally they
would have a threesome, where the visiting girl would get it from both Claire
and Mary. Other times, Mary and another submissive girl would have a session
together. This always resulted in a very sore backside for the other girl and
Mary had a reputation as being a very mean Dominant in their little circle of
kinky friends.
All in all Mary was very happy with her sex life. It just
lacked that edge that a real situation would provide. But how to provide it? It
had seemed an impossible fantasy until one memorable day, in the staff room at
work, Mary had idly opened a copy of 'Teacher's Monthly'.
Mary had become a teacher straight from leaving
university and specialised in mathematics, with a special interest in the six
times table, she often smiled to herself. She'd never wanted to do anything
else. She was never entirely sure quite what her motivations were. Corporal
punishment had long since vanished from British schools so there was no chance
of enacting her fantasies there. She'd thought that just being in the environment
would be stimulating, though. Telling one of her girls off or occasionally
being torn off a strip herself had proved quite exciting but without the order
to 'bend over and touch your toes young lady, you're going to feel my cane
across your backside' it was quite frustrating.
The day she'd opened the magazine she'd suddenly had a
stomach-lurching glimmer of what the future could hold. An advert in the 'Jobs
Abroad' section caught her eye. It was for teachers in a finishing school 'for
young women 18 and over' in a small country in central Africa. What made Mary's
heart beat faster was the fact that she'd remembered reading somewhere that
this particular country still retained corporal punishment in schools, including
for misbehaving teachers. Indeed the whip was still used as a penalty by the
courts for adults too. What was also interesting was that women were quite the
equal of men. There was no religious repressiveness here. The women of this
country had benefited from an educational system that had propelled them into
the highest positions in the land. Indeed, the school employed only Mistresses
and the advert directed interested parties to write to the Headmistress, Miss Abayomi.
The scorching pain from the final couple of strokes
wrenched Mary back to the present moment. As the pain and intense soreness
radiated through her backside, she wondered if she could ever enter into a
situation where this was real and she had no control over her fate.
Claire slowly moved around to the front of the bench, tapping
the cane into her palm. Although the flogging was officially over, Mary knew
Claire may have detected some new wrongdoing to justify further punishment.
Mary had made rather a lot of noise and Claire hated that. Oh, God, not more
strokes? Mary's heart beat faster and her mouth went dry. The six she had taken
had been scorchers; could she really take any more? Another thought came to
mind; If she enacted her fantasy and were being caned by the Headmistress of a
very strict school in Africa she would have no choice. The Head would flog her
until the sentence was finished. No safe word here. And no slippery fingers
running over her sore bottom and taking little trips into more sensitive areas
afterwards. Could she endure it? She didn't know but in the hushed silence
before Claire came into Mary's view, she knew she wanted to experience the
total, overwhelming feeling of being in the complete control of another woman.
Whatever the price.
Claire stopped in front of her, cane still tapping. Mary
gulped. That wasn't a good sign. She was angry about something. Mary struggled
to raise her eyes up to see her face and read her expression. God, if ever a
woman was built to whip another, Claire personified her. A genuine six feet
tall with a gorgeous set of feminine curves, padded by taut muscle, not fat,
she cut an imposing and scary figure in her white blouse, black leather mini
skirt, black cape, mortar board and high heels. Her long, bare and slightly
tanned legs made Mary ache to lick her all over. Her stern expression made her
desperate to please her and earn those strong fingers working on her and
releasing her innermost feelings in a scream which would make the caning ones
pale into nothing. She'd have to get through this first, though.
"You made a lot of noise, you disobedient little
bitch." It was stated softly but Mary knew that was a bad sign. She was in
for more strokes of the cane. "You know I hate excessive noise."
"But the strokes were so hard, Madam." Claire
looked at her pityingly.
"You don't know the meaning of 'hard', young lady.
I'm going to give you a further six to encourage you to obey me in future.
During this six you will learn the true meaning of 'hard'." Mary was
worried now. A stroke of the cane, however 'hard', from this lady was excruciating.
She wasn't sure she could face another six.
Her mouth opened and closed indecisively as Claire slowly
returned to her caning position. Should she say the safe word? As she was
deliberating she suddenly felt Claire's hands on her head, one above each ear.
She was slipping something over Mary's head. A blindfold? No! Her hands
were going lower. Oh God! It was a gag! Mary started to panic. Without a voice
she had no control over what happened to her. She struggled on the whipping bench
as Clair tightened the gag. She was shocked that Claire had broken the cardinal
rule for safe play; the person being flogged could end the beating at any time.
Mary struggled harder and made what noise she could behind the gag. Claire
tapped her already sore bottom with the cane.
"If you don't be quiet, girl, I'll give you twelve
licks instead of six." Mary froze. Had Claire gone over the
edge? Her next words showed she hadn't but were hardly reassuring. "I
think this is what you've always wanted, young lady." She leaned towards
Mary's ear. "Nowhere to hide now, eh? No control for you. This is as real
as it gets." She pulled back and Mary could sense her raising the rod. In
the brief moments before the thrashing began, Mary had time to savour the
situation. Being driven beyond her limits, against her will. Just like it would
if she were in some foreign finishing school, getting the cane from a strict
Headmistress she had displeased. She was scared rigid but deeply excited
at the same time.