Whip Hands

by C. P. Hazel

  ‘But my mind was on other things. I was to be punished like an errant schoolgirl. Would I have to take everything off in front of this total stranger? Would he really spank me on the bare bottom? How else was I to be punished? What was really in the mind of the warden whose smouldering gaze I sensed burning into the seat of my jeans as I went on up ahead?

  ‘“Right, Jenny. Let’s get started. Strip to your underthings.”

  ‘He suddenly became very brisk. He had taken off his cap to reveal close-shaven hair and prominent cheekbones. Then he began to unbutton his shirt. As he peeled it off I could see his chest and upper arms were powerful. They were as bronzed as his face and neck. This was obviously someone who looked after his body and had toned it to near perfection.

  ‘I unzipped my jeans and peeled them off clumsily. They were very tight. Then off came the purple body. And I was desperate not to lose control of the lemon briefs which, although of sheerest nylon, were my last defence. I very nearly hadn’t bothered with them. Now I praised my lucky stars! I stood and faced him with only those skimpy knicks between me and a full frontal. I was shaking in anticipation. Was it fear or excitement?

  ‘“Very nice,” he crooned, pulling up a chair. “Now, over my knee for your first session.”

  ‘Hardly knowing what was happening, I found myself being draped over one knee. More precisely, that knee was pushed between mine and I was grabbed and held around the waist by an extremely strong arm. He held my right hand firmly under my tummy. By stretching forward with my other hand I could just about grip the edge of the desk behind him.

  ‘He could probably have supported my weight all on his own. He jiggled his knee between my spread thighs a few times so I was well balanced. His unyielding muscles made a hard cushion for my shaved mons.

  ‘The hand slaps were an initial shock. He moved systematically from one cheek to the other, giving each one five or six blows. And blows they were! If he hadn’t held me so firmly I would have ended up on the floor in a heap. As it was, I couldn’t even move my hand to protect my arse from his attack. I had never been smacked before.

  ‘Jill, you should try it! I can’t describe the novelty of being put over someone’s knee like a child. Soon my buttocks began to hot up. With each stroke he swung his knee to ensure that he got a good angle. I had never felt quite so vulnerable before, so completely powerless. Strangely, I didn’t feel in any danger.

  ‘Maybe that was why when he released me and told me to drop those panties sharpish I did it without thinking twice. With anyone else I had only met twenty minutes earlier I would have told them where to get off.

  ‘The briefs joined the pile of clothes on the desk. I was told to put on my slingbacks again, which seemed odd. Wearing them, I realised I felt more naked than before, as if they were a reminder of all the other garments I had so thoughtlessly removed. He seemed to know exactly what I was feeling. My hand instinctively went to conceal my vulva. I felt the brush of velvety stubble as I touched my mons, then I gasped in surprise. My fingers were slicked, readily betraying my arousal.

  ‘He noticed my surprise and smiled, shaking his head slightly. He pulled me gently down so I was bent right over with my hands on the edge of the desk. It was the most natural thing in the world to arch my back and try to hide my weeping sex from his view. He stood beside me with his backside supported comfortably on the desk.

  ‘He had on a thick black belt with a stallion buckle just about at my eye level. I concentrated on it. It seemed an odd thing for a traffic warden to wear on duty. With a shock I realised why I knew it was a stallion. The modelling on the buckle was anatomically very detailed.

  ‘Looking up, I saw he was holding up my leather jacket for inspection and shaking his head again.

  ‘“This must have cost you a packet, Miss Jenny. I guess you must be doing better with your express delivery business than you’ve admitted.”

  ‘“It came from a charity shop,” I retorted. “Only the jeans are new, and I’m paying them off through a catalogue. So, you can see I’m not a poor little rich girl after all.”

  ‘“Maybe not, but you’re going to be a sore little girl in a minute. Even under your knickers your arse was going pink. Now they’re off we’re on to the bare bum, Jenny. And with this.”

  ‘He held up a broad leather strap, almost square in shape, stiff enough to support its own weight. Around the edge was a line of studs which gave it a professional look. He held it in front of my face and I could see that in the centre was a cross-shaped pattern of small holes. Somehow, I didn’t think they were there for decoration. I made the mistake of asking. He smiled cruelly.

  ‘“Decorative? They sure are, as you’re about to discover!”

  ‘He came round and ran a finger idly down my spine, continuing into the cleft between my cheeks and as far as my ring. I wriggled and moved my haunches away from his probing finger. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the muscles moving in his dark torso with its sprinkle of chest hair. Then I saw him raise the strap.

  ‘Jill, I couldn’t believe the noise it made. Nor the throb of pain that followed. Again and again the inevitable thwack, until the flash of pain seemed to herald the sharp report of the next stroke, like lightning as a prelude to thunder.

  ‘I wriggled and yelped as the soft flesh of my arse was pulled in all directions by the studded leather. I sensed from his occasional grunts that my persecutor was stepping up the pressure. To my amazement, the pain was gradually reducing to a blanket of intense heat. It was now at its hottest between my thighs, where the leather had not reached. The warden stopped for a breather.

  ‘“So how do you feel after being given a good leathering, Miss Jenny?” he asked. “It is the minimum I give out. Persistent offenders receive a much harsher treatment.”

  ‘“I don’t think I would ever become a persistent offender.”

  ‘“Let this be a warning then. You have taken your punishment well. I think we can just about pretend that ticket never existed. Now spread your legs and keep that back arched, Jenny.”

  ‘Now I knew he meant business. And he could hardly fail to see how aroused I had become. I could smell my own musk, mingling with the sharp fragrance of the leather in that small room. God knew who was next door, and what they must be thinking!

  ‘“Now, Jenny, we need to get down to business.”

  ‘“What business? You said I’d paid my fine by now.”

  ‘“Strictly yes, but I’m now offering you a bonus.”

  ‘I stayed silent. His hand was running lightly over my chafed buttocks and with increasing frequency the fingertips brushed my swollen labia. I shuddered with each growing wave of pleasure. He must have known he had me primed, but I wasn’t going to beg him for it.

  ‘I heard the sound of that stallion buckle being undone and his trousers being swiftly removed. They were placed over the back of a chair. I turned to see black boxer shorts being removed and a quick flash of bobbing dick amongst a thick mass of dark hair that spread up his firm belly.

  ‘“Face the front!” he ordered me. “Miss Jenny, at last your pain and suffering has been worthwhile. Now for a dose of intense pleasure.”

  ‘He grasped my thighs firmly and spread my lips wide. He entered me swiftly with a single thrust that made my knees turn to jelly. But there was to be no mercy. He knew I was hungry for it, that the punishment he’d given me had somehow whetted my appetite for animal sex. I know you’ll find this shocking, Jill, but being fucked from behind by a stranger was the most mind-blowing sex I ever had!’

  The trollop put out a hand and gently tapped me under the chin. My jaw had dropped open. Then we both gave girlish squeals. Just listening to her description had made me feel very excited.

  After they had completed their energetic bout of sex and collapsed in a heap, they picked themselves up off the floor. Then he made her dress quickly and showed her out the door.
And that was the last she had seen of the mysterious traffic warden.

  She couldn’t get him out of her mind. Despite paying daily visits to that same back alley Jenny never found him again. She even picked up a genuine parking ticket she couldn’t charm her way out of. She asked the woman warden whether she knew the man. She was tempted to mention the stallion belt but decided against it. From what this woman said it appeared Jenny had probably been hoaxed. Occasionally unscrupulous men got hold of warden uniforms and took advantage of young women who thought they could get out of paying. Disgusting, she called it.

  Jenny even went back to the scene of her agony and ecstasy, so to speak. It seemed to be mainly an import-export business. She pushed the top door-entry button, which was unmarked. There was no reply. So, distraught and desperate for more of the same, Jenny decided to unburden her problems on me, as usual.

  ‘Jill, I wondered if you could help me. Well, if you and Guy could...’

  ‘Go on.’ Although I had guessed what she was about to ask, I couldn’t get myself to admit I had imagined it. She looked around. The adjacent tables were empty.

  ‘What I had in mind was for Guy to give me a right good spanking. But you would be there to make sure nothing happened. You know, nothing I would feel guilty about later.’

  ‘Jen, I can’t really believe I’m hearing this! You expect me to persuade Guy to beat the living daylights out of you while I sit and watch?’

  ‘Join in if you like. No, I’m joking! Honestly, Jill, you’re the only friend I would dare even suggest the idea to. It would just be like a reminder.’

  ‘A reminder?’

  ‘Yeah, of the excitement I felt while being spanked by the stallion. It felt so wonderful afterwards. Maybe I’m a masochist.’

  ‘Maybe? A racing certainty, I’d say.’

  ‘But I was so at peace with myself, in touch with my karma, I suppose. There would be nothing more, I promise.’

  ‘And your karma is the only thing that will get touched. My Guy isn’t going to be any stallion for you, my gal.’

  I softened when I saw how depressed she looked. ‘Okay, I’ll ask him and see what he says. But I shouldn’t cancel any long-standing engagements if I were you.’

  To my surprise, Guy was keen to give it a try. I say surprised because he’d never before suggested we do anything remotely like that. But his sexy, sleepy grey eyes quite lit up at the prospect. He wanted to finalise the details at once. And for Guy that was a novelty. He’ll always put things off until the last moment if he possibly can.

  Anyway, we decided to invite Jenny round for her session at my place the following week. Guy still holed out with his dad, and Jenny’s studio flat had thin walls. I knew about that from the times I had stayed over. It was really difficult to get to sleep with the noise of offstage passion in the next flat.

  The next problem was what to use - the instruments of her pain, so to speak. I’d phoned her but Jenny was evasive. She wanted it to be a surprise, she said in a dreamy voice. At times she could be infuriating. All I could think of was a ping-pong bat or a wooden hairbrush.

  But one day, walking past a charity shop, I saw just the thing hanging in the window. It was a traditional carpet-beater made of cane, beautifully twisted into a trefoil shape, and it had a long handle. With barely a blush I walked in and bought it. The only trouble was they didn’t have a shopping bag large enough to hide it in. I took a taxi home and ignored the inquisitive looks the driver gave it.

  I need hardly have bothered. As soon as Jenny came through the door I could see she had something with her, wrapped in corrugated cardboard.

  ‘Just arrived this morning by post,’ she explained breathlessly, unveiling a pale school cane and swishing it so that it cut the air with a whooping sound. She handed it over to Guy and, with no preliminaries, began unzipping her jeans.

  She was wearing no underwear, just white ankle socks. She spun round so we both got a good view of her neatly trimmed pubic fringe and nice little bottom. I could still see very faint stroke marks around the side of the buttocks where her mystery warden must have caught her with the edge of the tawse.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Guy’s look had suddenly become much more intent. He flexed the cane in both hands, testing its whippiness. He could only nod. I was glad of that, at least.

  Jenny was raising her T-shirt, and already her white tummy was visible.

  ‘Hold it right there!’ I snapped. ‘You can leave the rest of your gear on. All Guy needs to see is your chubby cheeks. Understood?’

  Jenny looked quite crestfallen.

  ‘Now, let’s have a drink,’ I continued, ‘and decide what exactly we’re doing here. I want to know what the rules are if I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on the proceedings.’

  Jenny was about to step back into her jeans, but I motioned her to hand them over. I was surprised at how submissive she had become. She stood, suddenly self-conscious, with her hands clasped in front of her.

  As we knelt on the floor and sipped our drinks, I showed Jenny the carpet-beater. I could see she was impressed by the trouble I had taken. ‘So this will be an evening of novelties for me,’ she whispered, feeling the impact of the bent rattan against her outstretched palm.

  ‘Yes, and it’s time to begin,’ I said, raising Jenny to her feet and taking her towards the low sofa. ‘You’re going to perch your cute little arse over the back of this and I’m going to sit right here for a front row view.’

  She hesitated for a moment. Then, with a quick look at Guy, who had the carpet-beater in his hand and was rolling up his sleeve, she assumed the position I had indicated. She leaned slowly over the back of the sofa, her palms flat on the seat.

  ‘I think we can do better than that, Jen. Give Guy a little bit of help. He wants a nice easy target. It’s his first shot at giving punishment, as far as I know.’

  I made Jenny lower herself until her elbows were on the fake leather seat cushion. Her bum stood higher than her head, her frizzled black mane concealing her face. I sat beside her with one leg tucked under. Jenny looked surprised that I was taking such a close interest in her coming ordeal. Truth to tell, I was intrigued at how she would behave once Guy began laying it on. It was a strange situation to be in, witnessing my lover chastising my best friend. And I was determined to be in control of the situation.

  ‘All right, lover boy, get ready to deliver. Wait for my order.’

  Guy gave me a sheepish grin and raised the rattan beater to around elbow height. He held it hovering above her waiting haunches. I felt Jenny stiffen in anticipation. I was close enough to hear her breathing quicken.

  ‘Okay, let it rip. Ten quick strokes.’

  Guy did as he was told. He must have been dying to touch, but he could see me watching his every move. When the last stroke had been delivered, I brushed Jenny’s hair away from her eyes to get a better look at her face. It had gone quite red, but she was smiling in an unfocused way.

  ‘How did that feel, Jen?’ I asked.

  ‘It was great. Is that all I’m going to get?’

  ‘Okay, ten more, and this time give it some zip, Guy!’

  And again he did as he was told, bless him. This time we could hear the beater rushing through the air before swatting Jenny’s sweet little arse. As he gave the last strokes she began to grunt as each one struck home. I was consumed with curiosity to see what effect they were having on her backside. So I knelt on the sofa and leaned over the back to have a look.

  The ivory of her skin was now smirched with vivid scarlet blotches, a sure sign that Guy’s work had not been in vain. Looking more closely, I could see there were even faint impressions of the pattern of the rattan on her soft flesh. I traced a fingernail over them experimentally. She let out a tiny gasp. I laid my palm on the curve of the angriest looking part. The heat radiating from her was intense.

&
nbsp; ‘I think that’s enough of that, Jen,’ I said.

  ‘No! I want more.’ Her head was up and she brushed her hair aside with one impatient hand, giving me an imploring look.

  ‘What I was about to say, before you interrupted so impulsively, was that it was now time for the cane.’

  ‘Oh, great!’

  Guy swished it behind her and she flinched. I felt for Jenny. She really didn’t know what to expect, but she was determined to go ahead and experience it with no holds barred. The warden incident still gripped her imagination. I had once heard someone describe caning as the kiss of the rod. Would Jenny really be willing to embrace her pain, I wondered, and would she really find pleasure at the end of its long tunnel?

  ‘Are you sure, Jen?’ I asked her. ‘How many do you deserve then? A dozen?’

  She nodded silently and put her head down. But she didn’t stay silent for long. At the first couple of strokes she let out little gasps of shock. Maybe Guy increased the force. Whatever the reason, by the time we got to the halfway point she was breathing rapidly and muttering under her breath.

  I asked her whether she was sure she wanted to go on.

  ‘Yes, yes. Don’t stop! Now I know what the warden might have given me,’ came from under the mane of hair. Her T-shirt had slipped down to partly reveal her breasts. I hoped Guy couldn’t see. Guy resumed his position. He was flushed and there was a definite gleam in his eye as he flexed his wrist and made the cane whistle. Jenny flinched and gasped. I gave him a warning look. He was enjoying this a lot more than I liked. I felt queasy.

  Well, what can I say about the rest of the session? It makes me shiver to think about it. Jenny seemed to be in a kind of trance, hardly responding to the strokes. Then Guy began to raise his arm and lay it on. I should have stopped him, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. Only with the final stroke did she buckle at the knees, giving a full-throated cry. I was really worried, but she picked herself up and, sweeping the hair out of her eyes, gave me a quick, reassuring smile.