One of Us

"Bend over the desk." I looked across at it, then made my way to it and draped myself in a sharp arch of back and rounded buttock manner. He picked up a cane.

"Six with each."

"Yes Sir."

The first landed with rigorous validity, stamping his authority on proceedings in a very solid manner and I whined but curtailed it as I needed more and harder. The second got to me but there was a long pause allowing the stroke to spread its red-hot fingers through my nates and beyond. The third was harder but by now the juices were flowing, the adrenaline and endorphins kicking in and I was 'away'. So, the fourth was met with an ever-higher up-thrust bottom, which was duly rewarded with a yet heavier fifth. I made no sound whatsoever, just moved from side to side and then slowly settled into contented stillness, knowing that the sixth would be the hardest yet. It didn't disappoint but landed with a crack and then leached out like milk from an overturned bottle to inhabit, seemingly every pore.

I lay there, feeling the hot soreness rippling out and filling my pond with its lovely contours. A tap on my shoulder gave me consent to rise and as I did so another lip mashing kiss ensued but this time the buttock fondling was carried out by both of us, me exploring those amazing prop forward muscles and he, increasing the fire in my backside with his ministrations to my sore posterior. Kisses can only last so long and when we broke, he transferred his attention to my breasts kneading one, whilst suckling at the other. It was so lovely, lots of men feel they cannot do that whilst being the 'master', but a true master is confident enough to show affection and then find his distance once more. Patrick was really getting to me 'down there' and I felt sure a spontaneous one was about to be mine when he stopped and picked up cane number two.

"Climb up onto the desk and lie on your back." I clambered up, now realising why his desk had been almost totally cleared of everything, he must have known what was going to happen; his desk was normally a tip. As I turned over, he grasped my feet and hoisted them into the air above my head.

"Grip your ankles." I did so. "Now spread your legs as wide as you can." This was so humiliating, and I slowly moved them slightly outwards. Patrick was having none of it. "Right apart." He said as he pushed them to their absolute extreme. Everything, and I mean everything was on display and out in the fresh office air. "Stay absolutely still. Six, ready?" I paused and took a deep breath as he swished the cane through the air.

"Yes SIR." Now, no longer protected by a prostrate position but supine, vulnerable and very able to see exactly what was awaiting me I decided not to look so shut my eyes tight and waited for the practice strokes to end. When they did so the cane stroke that followed lit me like a Roman Candle making me suck air in and out fast and between clenched teeth. I could feel my head spinning slightly and as the second followed it I gasped.

"Punishment has to be painful." Patrick said as he put the cane down and picked up the clover clamp nipple clips once more. In my book they are the granddaddy of the nipple abuse world being both harsh and lovely at one and the same time. Harsh when initially placed but oh so rewarding when manipulated and even more so when finally removed. Patrick attached them carefully but then lifted the heavy chain, then dropped it. It hit the centre of my chest then slid off to the left tugging very hard on my right nipple. He picked it up again then deliberately dropped it so it would fall the other way. I had to hand it to him: this guy was good, very good. Leaving the chain where it lay he took up his position once more and laid in a third stroke that actually caused me to howl, then a rapid fourth I howled even louder and I'm not normally at all vocal. He came to my side, lifted the chain with the crook of the cane and bent and kissed me oh, so gently. The contrast between his sweet and genuine affection and his absolute mastery of the art of punishment had me, in my silence at least, begging him for more. Then he removed first one nipple clamp and then the other. Turning his attention to rolling one in one hand and suckling at the other, pulling the blood back into play. I was in heaven and, I suspect, so was he.

Once more he picked up the cane, took up his position and wasted no time at all. The stroke bit me, snake-like and hard, but my senses were blunted by the chemicals coursing through me and allowing me to find the ecstasy that only true pain can bring me. One more to go of this batch and I was eagerly anticipating its effects and what might follow. But then he did something totally unexpected, he picked up a leather strap in his spare hand.

"You have a choice. There's one more cane stroke due in this batch. I can deliver that exactly as dictated or you can swap it for six from this leather strap applied hard and fast -- and I mean very hard." He was trying to suss me out, work out whether I needed more pain or wanted it over with. If only for the statement, I knew exactly what to do.

"Six, hard and fast with the leather strap please SIR."

"Put your legs together." He dropped the cane then lined up a couple of practice swipes, nothing at all painful.

"Ready?"

"Yes SIR." And he strapped me six times hard, very hard and very fast with not a breath or a scintilla of affection in them just a brutal leathering that had me growling at first, then a low moan which by the fifth was a sustained howl and, as the last landed a breathy, elongated gasp.

A few moments passed, my eyes closed, and my breathing returned to normal and, as I opened them, I saw him standing beyond my legs looking at my upraised legs and nether region.

"Up you get." That was more of an effort than any of you might imagine. My legs were shaking my body weak and as I tumbled off the desk, he held my arm to steady me then turned me away from him and moved his naked body against my back, his hard horizontal cock being lifted and tucked between us as he cupped my breasts, rolling my nipples and set up a rhythmic imitation thrusting against me. I lowered both hands, moving one between us to massage his lovely piece and the other between my legs to move my search for an orgasm into a more successful sphere. It was heavenly, feeling him rubbing against my heavily whealed buttocks whilst gripping that newly re-engorged cock, his hands sending lovely tingles through all of me and feeling my own pleasure rising as a result of it all.

He leaned into my ear.

"Six more to go." But I twisted my head around and once more we kissed, another deep and passionate kiss and I found myself in that position of wondering whether I should break my vow and let this master of the art of punishment and now master of me, master me fully. But he put an end to my musings.

"Over the desk once more."

I broke away from him, then stared at his cock for a few moments whilst running my hand over my breasts, nipples, tummy and allowing my other hand to stray where I wanted something penetrative to take over. His eyes narrowed and he pulled at his own cock for a few moments but then motioned me over the desk with a nod of his head. Once more I felt the coldness of the desk beneath me and this time I looked over my shoulder at the glass partition, then closed my eyes just as the first thundered home. It was everything I had hoped for and, yes, everything I needed. But I had to control the pace.

"One, thank you SIR."

Again, the tap, tap, of the placement and this one was to be low. It rent the air as it swooshed in with an almighty crack and I was in heaven. In my head I counted to ten then said

"Two, thank you SIR."

The third had me hopping slightly as it was lower still.

"Three, thank you SIR."

It was then that I opened my eyes and, for some reason, what I saw didn't shock or disturb me in any way and I made no move as a result of it. I didn't acknowledge it with any more than a slight smile because, there, on the other side of the glass stood Josie. She was motionless, her eyes wide-open but in no state of shock. Motionless that is except for her hand which was up inside her skirt as she rubbed herself. I watched her intently as the fourth made its angry way into my flesh. She smiled as it bit.

"Four, thank you SIR." She didn't flinch, just produced a sort of Mona Lisa smile, gave a three-fingered wave with her spare hand and stared. I closed my eyes as the fifth hit home, it's character different and yet, one and the same and I counted once more but this time to thirty and then said.

"Five, thank you SIR."

After the sixth weaved its energetic magic in my soul I allowed almost a minute to run through before finally opening my eyes and she was gone.

"Six, thank you SIR."

Somehow, Josie watching had given me some sort of perspective and I knew that I had to make a decision about how to drain Patrick once more or he would be making the decision for me. The cock he had to offer was beautiful, hard, long and thick, it would truly reach places my husband had never reached and therefore no one had ever done so. I have to confess that I wanted it, wanted it inside me, I wanted him to fuck me and wanted him to do it now but, with my marriage preserving instinct coming to the fore I climbed up onto the desk and lay, once more, supine, my head hanging over the edge and motioned for him to enter my waiting mouth. The desk is a large one but even so, it is too narrow for a girl to lie flat, so my ankles had to be in contact with my oh-so-sore buttocks and as he found his way into my head, his balls now covering my eyes he set up a determined rhythm fucking my throat with the swollen knob end of his cock. Not long strokes like last time but staying nearly all the way in and using my oesophagus as his masturbatory tool. It was as I felt his passion rising that I also felt his belly crushing my breasts as he leant forwards and over me, his lips kissing my sweet spot and then his tongue working a magic that I'd not felt for too long as my own orgasm ran through me like an electric shock, tingling throughout my entire world and, as I clamped my legs around his head I felt his own climax beginning to turn him into the brutal orgasm demanding monster that most men become at their moment of need. He plunged full length in and out of my head, grinding out the last of his much demanded but diminished seed and I swallowed it greedily and happily.

Most of my sessions are either arranged by my husband and are with strangers or are spontaneous episodes that just occur because they can and, although I have some form of means of contact with most of them, on the whole they are a one-off and we never meet again. The exceptions are few and far between, my doctor is one, our blacksmith another (see past encounters) but they are occasional meets and, although further meetings sometimes result in some form of contact, they are random events. Patrick was a whole different ball game (pun intended). This was a man I would be seeing on a regular, weekly or more often basis and, as he relaxed his heavy frame above me, I started to wonder whether I'd done the right thing. The appearance earlier of Josie was also confusing me. She was so young, and I wondered if she could be trusted but as I mused, so Patrick began to gather himself and start to rise from my exhausted and sore frame.

"So, tell me" He said "will you be writing this one up for your blog?" I was stunned.

"What? How, well, how did you know?" He was slowly getting his clothes back on.

"You need to be more careful with your iPad. Leaving it open on the homepage of your blog was a bit silly."

"When, how long, err, when did that happen?" I felt my neck and face flushing red as I felt so stupid.

"A few days after you joined."

"You've known all this time."

"Every intimate detail." I was taken aback and more than a little surprised."

"So, you knew I'd go for it."

"Of course." In a way I felt relieved, after all, he'd known all this time and we'd worked together without any repercussions.

"Is that why you've been saying all those things about corporal punishment and children?

"Of course."

"And you don't believe that children should be beaten."

"No, don't be daft."

I slid shakily off the table and gathered my dress.

"Stay as you are." He was back in command mode.

"Yes Sir."

"Stand in the corner, hands on head." I did so, rather slowly. "And don't move till told to."

"Yes Sir." He left the room, and I heard the door latch click shut. It must have been about three minutes later that I heard it click once more and, though tempted to turn around resisted and stayed stock still till I felt a hand on my arm leading me away so I turned and there was -- well you've guessed it, I'm sure, for there was Josie who led me to the desk and bent me forward, placing my elbows on the flat surface as she started to rub my sore bottom, offering the occasional light spank to vary the feelings. Things went much further with her on another occasion, but I'll write about that later.

For now, all you need to know is that she was one of us.