tagBDSMAll's Well that Ends-Up Well

All's Well that Ends-Up Well


Debs had always been a handful; but while most people only saw her fun-loving and often feisty side, I'd found a way to unlock her inner-sub over the time we'd been together. It's not like I could snap my fingers and she'd instantly turn in to a demure handmaiden waiting to attend my every desire; if I wanted her submission I had to earn it.

When she was right she was right, there was no doubt in her mind. So when a bunch of us had repaired to a friend's place after several hours at a local hostelry and she'd accused my best mate's girlfriend of hypocrisy, she'd had a point. The trouble was that the alcohol-fuelled conversation had inevitably drifted towards sex, led as-always by Debs, her questions increasingly probing. Cassie, clearly not comfortable with the line of discovery regarding people's experiences of dressing up (or down), bluntly stated she saw no need; this was when Debs took exception and called her out. Now I can't remember telling Debs about the time me and a couple of the assembled company had happened upon several 'naughty' pictures of Cassie on Dan's camera, but evidently at some point I had. Maybe in hindsight it was an error of judgement, not having foreseen the devastating effect this nugget of information could have being presented as it was in defence of her challenge. A quick look around confirmed that the pictures were at least partially common knowledge, and in the time it took the conversation to falter, Cassie had stormed out leaving us with a stare that would've sent shivers down the spine of Death Himself.

On our way home, sensing the impending recriminations, I'd argued that she should apologise; I tried insisting, but Debs was having none of it. Even over the next few days she refused to be led towards reconciliation, causing conversations that severely tested diplomacy skills between me and Dan, caught slightly guiltily as we were between our warring girlfriends. Unsurprisingly, we'd each arranged to do separate things the following weekend, so when Debs returned on Friday night with a bottle of wine, we chilled and nothing else was said.

Saturday's were our day. The house was split in to three flats and each Saturday the couple downstairs religiously went all-day shopping while the guy upstairs went home to his family. This was the day that we could play without too much worry of noise, so it wasn't a huge surprise when Debs slid herself next to me on the sofa and poked her head between me and the paper I was reading.

"Wanna play?" There was mischief in her eyes. "I've been a very bad girl this week, haven't I?"

I wasn't actually intending to get going just yet as I had my own agenda for the next few hours, but as she'd made a mock sad face, I adapted my plans a little.

"Okay, go fetch the medium strap." This was her first surprise; such an approach would generally have led to her being hauled her over my knee for a 'Saturday spanking' before anything more testing evolved. In the moment it took her to register what I'd said, she'd picked up on my look and dragged herself up and in to the bedroom to our toy chest. Soon she returned and handed me the 3/8" inch-thick tan-leather implement with a slightly worried look. I stood up and told her to bend over the back of the sofa. Again, she double-took as I brushed her hands aside from unfastening her jeans; but she sensed a determination in me and played along. Our eyes met as she stepped towards the sofa; the mischief had changed to acceptance as we slipped effortlessly in to our familiar roles.

She placed her hands on the seat and stretched her soft form over the upholstery so that her nicely flared hips rested on the ridge and her light-brown hair fell over her face, her bare feet hardly touching the ground. Resisting the urge to wrap her in my arms at this show of submission, I raised the strap and she let out a deep breath in anticipation. As if on cue, I smacked the leather across her denim-covered bum, making significantly more noise than either of us had expected. Her slight groan signalled a reluctant recognition of an ordeal that would leave her sore, but strangely sated.

We fell in to a rhythm that gave her a few seconds recovery after each smack, and she was well-practiced enough to take the punishment with only the minimum of sound escaping her lungs. It wasn't the hardest session she'd had, but it certainly continued long enough to guarantee a deep, prickly heat, probably around 60-70 evenly-weighted strokes. After the last couple of hard ones had elicited the required yelp, a slight gesture with my eyes was all it needed to send her to the corner, hands on her head, facing the wall. I returned to my paper, waiting for her biggest surprise of the day.

Normally we'd ignore the doorbell at such a stage in proceedings, but this time I got up to go. She turned, but her questioning look was soon dismissed as I told her to stay put. Her shock came when I returned with Cassie right behind me. Debs' face immediately flushed as she spun around and dropped her hands, but before she could recover her composure I looked her square in the eyes and told her to sit on the sofa. Cassie, clearly on edge in the first place, and now at a complete loss at what she'd just witnessed, seemed overly grateful for the chair I offered; I remained standing but turned to Debs.

"I asked Cassie here because we need to clear the air. I'm not having my girlfriend drive a wedge between me and the friends I've had for many years." I held her angry stare, looking right through her until eventually her eyes dropped to her lap; with that almost imperceptible act I knew my gamble had paid off. I turned to Cassie, who was still looking quite shell-shocked.

"I promised you an apology for the betrayal you suffered, which I hope you will be able to accept, and afterwards move on and resume our friendship. But first, I feel the scales need to be re-balanced, so my request is that you stay and observe Debs' chastisement." At this Cassie's eye's immediately flicked over to my girlfriend who had lost all her colour in an instant, but hadn't quite lost her voice.

"No Way!" It was almost a plea though as the second word had started to fade while leaving her mouth, which remained open. I spun around, with an authority that surprised us both.

"You've got a big mouth that you need to learn to control Debs. You humiliated Cassie in front of all our friends. Could you have plunged the knife any deeper in to her back?" My ire had silenced any response, as the reality of the pain she'd caused was finally sinking in. "How do you think Cassie feels? Can you even comprehend how you've hurt her?" The fight was gone now, but sentence was yet to be passed.

"Reach under the sofa, and hand me what's there." Debs slowly leaned forwards and fished around with her fingers until her shocked expression betrayed her find.

"No, you can't...not in front of her!" she brought out the cane I'd set there earlier. It took Cassie a few seconds to work out what was being withdrawn, but when she did it was with a mix of alarm and amusement that she looked on.

"I can, and I will. Now it's your turn to be humiliated, the tables are turned Debs. You had many opportunities to try to repair the damage but you refused to get off your high horse and now you're going to be taught a lesson."

"Look, I know I've caused a lot of pain, and I'm sorry," turning to Cassie, "I really am, but I was drunk, and..." But I interrupted.

"Not really the apology you deserve I think," I said, turning to Cassie, who had not said a word up to that point. Now though, possibly buoyed by the realisation that her rival was going to get her bum beaten, she found her voice.

"No, definitely not," and with an air of superiority she switched from staring daggers at Debs to meeting my eyes in alliance. "Not exactly heart-felt was it?"

It took an age for Debs to stand up and, with a heavy heart, hand me the cane. This would be a test for her, not only because the cane was the most intense implement we'd played with, but also because of the audience. To her credit, she remained composed and looked at me, awaiting instruction. I guided her around to the far side of the small table we had in the flat and had her stand facing us. With all hope of saving face gone, it was only with a slight flinch that she took my request to drop her jeans and panties, but her nakedness did ensure she got in to position across the table quickly to preserve what little modesty she could. The final indignity came when I asked Cassie to stand up and hold Deb's wrists, an act I hoped would initially humble but eventually bond the two of them together.

For the second time that day I was faced with my girlfriend's bottom presented for punishment. The redness from the earlier strapping was still apparent, along with some mild darkening in the most-tender of spots. There's something very primeval about a proffered bottom which caused me to linger just long enough for the girls to exchange looks, before I placed cool rattan on naked flesh causing an involuntary recoil. I saw her head drop and her shoulders relax as she attempted to prepare for the bite of the first stroke.

I raised the cane above my shoulder and Cassie lent back, bracing for the inevitable jerk of limbs a split-second after impact, a look of concentration on her face. After a slight pause, the silence was broken by the whistle and crack of rattan whipping in to naked flesh. My soul-mate's defiance was strong and not only did she not cry out, she absorbed the stroke without perceptible reaction. The strapping must have granted some immunity to pain, but there was a very clear red weal where the cane had landed and it was growing darker by the second. I sensed a level of pride here and was just a little in-awe of my girl for her stoicism.

I whipped the second in lower and harder, bringing only the faintest of grunts, but no further reaction from Debs. Cassie on the other hand was clearly engrossed in the scene and had become somewhat flushed around her neck and chest as the second stripe appeared out of her view. Had I thought, I should have positioned a mirror so she could appreciate the signature I was leaving on these gorgeous cheeks; I would have to ensure she saw the final picture.

By the time the third landed, Debs had sunk in to a semi-trance, something she'd only managed twice before in play. Hitting sub-space so quickly was an ingenious move, although I'm still not sure it is totally achievable at will. However, it did allow her to accept her sentence without complaint, something that appeared to seriously impress Cassie. Armed with this observation of slow, steady breathing and the very subtle pushing of her hips outwards in anticipation of the next, I cracked the fourth in as hard as I could, the whistle of the stroke rising by a couple of tones. This brought a small yelp, but from Cassie rather than Debs, and she looked at me apologetically. By now, the stripes were rising up to become welts, three beautifully parallel lines with only the fourth having deviated from the true to meet and mark the underside of her right buttock.

As I raised my arm for the fifth, I held back a second as Debs took a slightly deeper breath which she exhaled in a sigh; again the swish-crack of the stroke broke the silence that had fallen after the last. I hadn't really thought about how many strokes to deliver, but I sensed we were coming to the end. On the other hand, I wanted to Cassie to have her pound of flesh, so I sliced in number six with such a whack that even in her Zen-like state Debs couldn't help emitting a small squeal; we were done.

I beckoned Cassie around to my side of the table and she gasped at the state of my Lover's bum, the welts starting to turn purple. Still quite flushed, she'd lost the earlier malice caused by her own humiliation, evidently satisfied that justice had been done. Slowly Debs pushed herself up and once steady, gingerly raised first her panties and then her jeans; eventually, she looked at Cassie with just a hint of a tear in her eye and spoke.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I feel terrible about what I did, and I really hope that you can forgive me."

I think the simplicity of the words did the trick because the next thing I knew they were hugging each other quite emotionally in the same way that best friends reunite after a year apart. Cassie was the first to break the embrace and looked at me.

"You didn't have to beat her so hard." I raised my eyebrows, but before I could answer Debs touched Cassie's elbow to regain her attention.

"He did! I deserved it. But I hope he doesn't have to do it again...well at least for a while anyway. I don't think I can sit." That seemed to set them off, giggling as if they'd shared a private joke.

Cassie didn't stay long after that; she'd witnessed a scene that had blown her mind, and which needed to be processed. It was clear that the relationship had been repaired, and possibly strengthened with the sharing of confidence. I could expect some cross-examination from Dan, but no more than he got upon discovery of the original naughty pictures of Cassie, so all would soon be squared-up.

Having seen Cassie to the door Debs returned with a smirk on her face. "You bastard! Couldn't you at least have let me in on it?" She aimed a playful slap at my face but I caught her by the wrist and drew her in to a kiss.

"You would have bailed if I did. Besides which, it was a bit of a gamble given that I had no idea how Cassie would take it."

"You think she liked it?"

"Not as much as you."

"You pushed your luck with me too. I only said that I 'may' be interested in having someone else watch...speaking of pushing your luck, what are you doing now?"

"Removing your blouse, we still have a couple of hours before Mr & Mrs Shopaholic return." I grinned.

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