by Susan Thomas
"Oh," she said, "I can't keep them at home, I've nowhere near private enough but this is the government after all and this is my desk. They're safe enough here."
This is a girl who had been to a top school and had a degree. Once again I had found how daft clever people can be. I promised her I'd talk to Crispin Brindle-Tockholes and persuade him to get his brother to cough up. Imagine, she wanted money when actually she could have blackmailed for position or contacts instead - and my family thought me a dunce.
I stayed on very late working, and when I knew she had gone I went to her office. The trouble with all those drawers is that the keys are all much of a muchness so I took with me a whole load of similar keys and the sixth one opened it. I took the envelope and re-locked the drawer, popped the envelope into a large bag, waited until the coast was clear and then left.
Crispin was at one of those ridiculous late night debates so I went for a drink and then my mother hove into view. Her motherly radar picked me up and she changed direction and sat opposite. "What are you doing here at this time of night?"
I sat coolly back in my chair enjoying the moment, opened my bag tapped the packet and replied, "Saving your party and government an embarrassing scandal being plastered all over the front page of the national newspapers."
Her face became dangerous and she put out her hand for the package but I said, "Best not."
She nodded. "Anything else I should do?"
"Have a quiet word with Thurston Brindle-Tockholes in a week or so and gently suggest he confine his flagellation exercises to willing, paid girls well away from all government offices. Gently, mark you, he is scared of you."
My mother looked acid. "So he should be, but I will be gentle. Look I must go. But," and she patted my hand, "well done and thank you."
She had only been gone a moment or two when I spotted Crispin coming out. I nodded to him and he left his colleagues and came over.
"I have something for you, but it is best in private."
When he opened the envelope he gaped and I quietly said, "Little Miss Daftie has been foolish enough to put all her eggs in one basket. That's all of them."
"How...?"
"Best you don't know." I sounded like something from a B film.
"Well done, I wish I knew how you did it and so quickly but I won't dig. Now how do I stop my idiot big brother doing it again?"
"That too is in hand but there will be a delay of a week for you to give him a bollocking and tell him you've sorted it out. Do not mention my name. Oh and tell him that at Christmas he had better give each of the girls he has spanked an expensive present out of his own pocket."
"Come on, tell me how you've done it."
"No, it’s really much better you don't know, but I've been a very naughty girl and I feel rather guilty."
Now to this day I don't know why I added that bit but I think it may have been the tingles seeing her photographs gave me. I could see Crispin's eyes and they were full of interest and he said in a totally different voice, "Naughty is it? Well perhaps if I took you to dinner tomorrow you might tell me just how naughty. Maybe I could give you absolution."
To be honest I wasn't sure what I was playing at but the tingles from those pictures were affecting me. Anyhow, I just managed to get the last train back to my mother's constituency and home where I burnt the photographs and negatives in an empty grate. My father was in, but his head was in his research cloud as always and he didn't notice.
Crispin was as good as his word and I had my first ever Chinese meal at a very nice place in Soho. He was known there and we were treated like royalty. It was all very strange to me but I liked it all. I still wasn't sure what I was playing at but I did feel guilty about Miss Daftie. I had tricked her and stolen from her when really she had a grievance. But on the other hand she had done wrong herself and I was helping Crispin because his idiot brother could easily cause a scandal that would affect them all. With my need for the tingles it was enough wrong doing for me to want to be caned but how do you say that? Crispin rescued me.
"I don't really need to know what methods you used but they clearly bother you. On the other hand your actions were rather justified to a degree by the situation so it isn't a serious matter but perhaps one that needs... resolving. Now when I was a prefect at school that sort of situation would crop up. A sixth former boy would do something wrong but perhaps in the best interests of the school or the house. It couldn't exactly be ignored so instead of giving him a serious beating I'd give him say four strokes of the cane and leave it at that."
"That sounds a good compromise."
"Have you ever been caned, Helen?"
He'd stopped calling me Miss Dole by now. "Yes I have, I know what to expect."
My reply was ambiguous but we both knew what was being discussed. When we'd finished he took me back to his London flat in Kensington. It was very nice I have to say and on the top floor. There was a large kitchen with a sort of dining room leading straight off it. He poured me another drink and went off, coming back with a cane. I really don't know who he used it on but he later claimed it was just a souvenir of his prefect days.
"If you're serious..."
The familiar fear of the pain came flooding back when I saw it, but with it that desire for the whole ritual of getting beaten. All I said by way of reply was, "May I use a chair?"
He pulled one over for me without a word and I placed myself behind its back. I carefully undid the buttons of the little jacket I was wearing and took it off, hanging it on the back of the chair. I then thought about the skirt. It was rather a tight one for raising so with a sort of a sigh I slipped it down and hung that on the back of the chair. I heard a strange sound from Crispin but didn't look at him. Now was difficult. The first time I had bared myself for Dr Croft I had found it very difficult emotionally but when I had done it a few times it was far less hard. Now though I was back to finding this emotionally very hard to do.
A lot of women wear girdles or some such variant but when not at work I didn't go in for all that and I was well supplied with gifts of underwear my mother brought back from the US on her regular visits, so it was no wonder Crispin made a strange sound. I was wearing bright red panties with a frill around both legs and the waistband with a matching garter belt and black stockings. I was rather proud of them.
Taking a very deep breath I pulled my panties down and bent over the back of the chair holding the seat very tightly indeed because I knew how much this would hurt. I heard another odd sound from Crispin and I suddenly realised he hadn't expected me to take it on the bare bottom. I heard him announce in a strangely authoritarian voice that I would get four strokes then I felt the cane rest on my bottom. It is a terrifying moment - that thin hard cane which can inflict such intense pain and there it is resting as if taunting the bottom.
"Feel that, well you really will in a moment."
The cane moved off and I tensed but it just tapped me. I jumped with fright and the cane rested again. Was he taunting me with it? There was another tap, this time rather harder and it stung a bit, then the cane lifted off again.
The blow across my bottom took me by surprise as it always does. It seemed to drive every breath from my body. The pain of it went so deep and was so fierce. I gripped the seat very hard and my head went up and I made some sort of sound that I suppose eases pain in some way. Crispin caned considerably harder than Dr Croft, perhaps because he was younger and stronger or perhaps Dr Croft eased off a bit because of always caning schoolgirls. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and knew this was a real punishment not play and this was not even a serious beating according to Crispin.
I heard no sound again but suddenly the second blow came and I gripped the chair so hard I shifted it forward a few inches. A deep groan escaped, for the pain went deep down into my bottom and then seemed to radiate up and out like some sort of explosion finding more and more places to register. My mind screamed ‘Stop’ in a continuous wail, but I said nothing and stayed where I w
as.
I heard the swish this time like a falling bomb and then the explosion across my bottom was so hard it made my leg jerk. My knee came up and banged against the chair and hurt. I yelped loudly. I now had three throbbing burning lines across my bottom making everything feel soft and vulnerable to this terrible man and his awful cane but I still stayed in position.
Again I heard the shrill sound of a falling bomb and then it seemed that Hell had opened up on my poor bottom. He must have angled the last one for it crossed all the other three and it hurt far more than those that had gone before. I yelled out loud, my leg jerked again and again the whole chair shifted forward with the movement. The pain of the last blow seemed to go on and on with vicious deeply throbbing points where the cane stroke had crossed earlier ones. I stayed bent over holding tightly to the chair with my head down while I tried to gain mastery over my pain. Finally I was able to stand slowly and carefully, reach back and sort of try to hold my bottom while not actually daring to touch it. "That really hurts," I spat out.
Crispin came up to me and held my face and looked at me closely. "But you're not crying. I've never met a girl like you. You took that caning a sight better than a lot of the chaps at school. I cane hard you know."
That was a real compliment but I had to be getting home (I am not the kind of girl who would stay the night) and Crispin got me a taxi to the station and kissed me goodbye. I really enjoyed that kiss I can tell you. In the taxi my bottom throbbed and burnt but by the time I got to the station it was easing. On the journey home on the train the pain passed to that odd state where it became pleasurable and which I enjoyed so much. I sat with the few other passengers and hugged my secret to myself, wondering what the prim couple opposite would make of it if they knew what I had been doing.
I got a shock when I got home for my father had descended from Mount Olympus and compounded my shock by speaking to me - a very rare event indeed.
"Your mother is very pleased with you."
I looked at him as he wrestled with the concept that maybe I wasn't completely retarded after all. "Good, and so she should be. I just saved the party and government from a nice juicy and scandalous front page."
"Hum, yes well, congratulations."
That was certainly the first time in my life he had said anything positive to me at all so what with the Chinese meal, my caning, the kiss from Crispin and my parents' approbation, it was a good day. I went to my room to examine my bottom and deal with the exotic tingles coursing through me.
The very next day I had an invitation from Crispin to join him at his parents' house in the country. He said we could go riding, and there was a swimming pool and we could just have a relaxing weekend. As if reading my mind he assured me that his parents would not stand for any hanky-panky in their house. As I was still hesitating he added, "Thurston won't be there."
I laughed. "In that case thank you, I'd be delighted."
I told my mother and she raised an eyebrow and remarked, "Good family, rather strait-laced, well except for that idiot Thurston of course. I hope you have a good time." I noticed my mother had lately been treating me more as if I was actually a human being and not some mentally subnormal look-alike.
Crispin’s house was magnificent. His father, a general, was a second son but nevertheless there was considerable family wealth at his disposal.
The General was very upright, quite formal, and treated me as if I was very young and foolish but I guessed (correctly as it turned out) that he regarded all women as foolish and young women even more so. Crispin's mother was very upright and a bit stiff but actually very welcoming and quietly said to me, "I understand we are in your debt. Thank you."
The Friday evening meal was quite formal but very good and I was able to keep up with the conversation (well something rubs off when you live with brain boxes). On the Saturday morning Crispin and I went riding and I really enjoyed it. He had provided me with a good horse and we were out for a long while and I came back feeling invigorated. As we re-entered the house in our riding clothes to get changed his much younger sister was there. Patricia was just eighteen and was clearly a 'mistake' given how much younger she was than Crispin.
She instantly reminded me of Caroline Derbyshire at Lady Alice. She was attractive and Crispin had already told me she was clever and she had the same 'all mortals are beneath me' manner that Caroline had. She was politely rude in response to the introduction but it was the last line that really went beyond the pale. "I take it you are my Brother Crispin's mistress."
"Patricia, go to my study immediately."
The General had been nearby and was clearly angry but he apologised to me before stalking off to his study barking over his shoulder, "Crispin."
I looked at Crispin in bewilderment. "It is a family tradition that you should watch her punishment. You don't have to if you don't want to but he was asking me to bring you along. I'd go if I were you, It will please the old man's sense of tradition and Patricia will have other things on her mind."
Patricia was being lectured when we arrived at the study (which was the size of most people's living rooms). She was definitely doing a Miss Snooty act.
"Father, I apologise for being rude to one of your guests. I am ready to take my punishment."
I was getting really excited for I hadn't seen a caning since I left Lady Alice, but I was sensible enough to hide my interest and look faintly worried. The faintly worried look was, I felt, ambiguous enough to pass but was hard to do because I could hardly wait. I know that is terribly wrong but I just couldn't help it. Patricia was wearing a sensible tweed skirt and blouse with neat little brown socks and very sensible brown shoes. I was willing to bet that wasn't how she wanted to dress but what her mother insisted she wear.
"Right," said the General, "you know what to do."
Without a word she lifted her skirt to reveal the plainest most ordinary white knickers it is possible to buy. I was sure she would be wearing something fancy as a little rebellion but perhaps her mother did knicker inspections. However, she was like Caroline Derbyshire at Lady Alice in that she had the most beautiful legs and bottom and it was easy to see she was going to be a real stunner. Patricia pulled her knickers down to her knees and bent over to touch her toes. I'd never seen that before though my brother's school had used the cane and he said that was how it was done.
The general took two steps back and I bit my lip because I guessed he was really going to thrash her. There was a sudden movement as the general moved quickly forward bringing the cane from on high and completed with the cane crashing down on her bottom. It went so far in it was as if it would be buried in her, and then sprang back leaving a huge ripple. She was such a brave girl because she never moved from her position but she did give a strangled cry of pain.
There was another fast movement, a vicious swish as the cane flew towards its target and then a horribly fleshly sound as it hit her. She gave a gasp and this time lost position a bit as she partly moved up as if to stand. Now there were two dark red welts on her bottom and both were swelling. I was awestruck as this was a far harder caning than anything Dr Croft had given. My bottom suddenly became very sensitive at the thought of ever being caned by the General even though that seemed impossible.
He was different from Dr Croft though. Patricia was clearly trying to deal with her pain and he waited which Dr Croft never did. He stood patiently until she had touched her toes again and then he did another of those two step movements and whipped the cane through the air bringing it down on her bottom in the most perfect but terrible blow. Again it looked as if the cane might bury itself in her bottom before it sort of bounced out and he withdrew it. Patricia though reacted far more strongly this time. She staggered forward a bit, her knees went down, her hands came off her toes and made as if to clutch her bottom and she let out a loud "Aaaah!" of pain.
The General stopped and waited although he didn't have to wait long, for she clearly knew her duty was to take her caning and she scrambled back
into position. Now there were three horrid welts swollen to a large degree especially on one side. I have to say I felt ashamed as I found I was enjoying watching, but in my defence I was wondering how I would cope because I was fairly certain Crispin hadn't caned me that hard. Tingles began and my palms began to sweat while it was becoming harder to disguise my deep interest in what was happening. Mark you, I would not have liked it if she hadn't been so rude. I don't like seeing someone caned for no reason.
The fourth and fifth strokes also made her jerk out of position and cry out, but it was on the fifth that we all became aware that she was crying. I think her limit was much the same as mine. I could take four without blubbing but the next two really send me over the edge.
My eyes opened wide when it came to number six because now the General shifted his position somewhat and took three steps back. His movement was so fast it was almost a blur and it looked as if he was attacking an enemy with a sabre. The shriek of the cane through the air scared me and when it hit I realised what he was doing, for it angled right across the previous five before burying itself, bouncing and then being withdrawn.
I think it started as a shriek but she choked it off somehow, and then lost her position, standing while her hands flew back to her bottom allowing her skirt to fall down hiding it from view. Then as if remembering her duty she bent back down, somehow flicking her skirt back up onto her back and I saw the most vicious of all welts had appeared, crossing the others and creating little crossing points that looked as if they were perilously close to breaking the skin.
It was certainly a severe caning and although I had started excited I finished feeling desperately sorry for her. She was, after all only eighteen and even if she had been very rude to me I would have preferred her to have had one of Dr Croft's punishments. However, it wasn't my place to interfere with family traditions. Crispin explained that his father had some fairly old-fashioned, even outdated views about his authority as head of the family and about the place of females in it.