Room at The Top of the Stairs Pt. 02

Keith stood in his bent-forward posture and waited. He listened to the empty silence of the room. Then after what seemed like several minutes he heard the sound of a woman's high heels on the hard wooden floor behind him. He craned his neck to look into a dusty wall mirror before him. What he saw both surprised and excited him. The young woman who had received him at Reception had transformed herself into the most exotic leather-clad dominatrix.

He studied her as best he could given his compromised posture. She was only partially dressed, being quite naked save for a pair of high heeled, high black leather boots which extended up over her knees, a tightly nipped black leather corset at her waist, and a pair of elbow length, fingerless, black leather gloves at her forearms and hands. She was pantiless, and the petite, neat slit of her pussy and the soft pale tuft of her pubic hair could be seen in the vee of her thighs. Her long blonde hair, previously held in a ponytail, had been brushed out, and now fell in thick curls about her shoulders. Her large breasts hung like weighty melons, her nipples as broad, pointed pink discs. He longed to see her very shapely bottom.

"Gosh, Miss!" Keith exclaimed, "So you're Miss Strokewell!"

"I am indeed, sir!" she replied, "And you are..?"

"Keith, Miss!"

"Keith! That's a very handsome name!" Keith watched as she withdrew a fine straight whipping cane from a nearby vase. She stepped back to him and tapped its tip across his cloth covered rump. "And what brings you here today, Keith, sir?"

"Been naughty, Miss!"

"Oh yes? Do tell?"

"Been playin' with myself, Miss, through the pocket of my trousers, Miss," Keith whimpered, "whilst chatting with your very pretty receptionist, Miss!"

Keith felt the tip of the cane stroke its way tentatively over his cloth covered rump.

"Oh yes! I'm sure you did! And I'll have you know that I hardly approve of such behaviour! And that I'm going to give you a caning for it!"

"Yes, Miss! Thank you, Miss!"

"And how many strokes do you think i should give you, Keith sir, across this fat bottom of yours?"

"I don't know, Miss! I've never had the cane before, Miss!"

"Oh yes, so you're a new boy! In that case I think that six light but smarting, impressionable strokes might be in order, don't you?"

"Yes, Miss! Thank you, Miss!"

"You're thanking me for them? You most certainly will! You'll count each stroke and thank me for it!"

"Yes, Miss!"

"Right then!" came the authoritative voice, "Here we go!"

Keith looked into the mirror and watched as his pretty young Miss moved behind him and stepped to one side. She tapped the tip of her rod across the middle of his rump to take her aim. Then in one hissing, easily returned stroke, with a practiced twist of her strong forearm and wrist, she lifted it away and then whipped it down hard.

Swish! THWACK!

"Ouch!" Keith grunted. He studied himself in the wall mirror before him. His lips pursed and his eyes widened as a fire lit up across his bottom. That thing stung! It felt as if he were being nipped on the bottom by a bee! "Ooh! Miss!" he grunted. His feet scraped and scrabbled on the floor as his rear end writhed and twisted in a desperate effort to recover.

His Mistress studied his wiggling bottom, her cane held between two fists.

"Well! That certainly made an impression on you, didn't it, Keith sir?" she spoke down to him.

"Oh yes, Miss!" Keith whimpered. Christ, he thought, what a strict young disciplinarian this woman was! And this was only the first of six such 'light' strokes!

He felt the tip of her rod poke and tap impatiently again at his burning behind.

"Have you forgotten something, Keith sir?" came the voice, "Or shall I repeat the stroke, perhaps with a little more vigor, to help you to remember?"

Christ! Suddenly he remembered! He'd forgotten to count the stroke and thank her for it!

"One stroke, Miss!" he blurted, "Thank you, Miss!"

"It's my pleasure! And now we shall push on with the remaining five strokes, yes, Keith sir?"

"Yes please, Miss!"

"Here they come now!"

The young Miss took her aim again. And then -

Swish! THWACK!

"Ooh!" Keith grunted. Two strokes of Miss Elizabeth's cane were twice as bad as one - especially where it felt they'd crossed!

"Two strokes, thank you Miss!" he whimpered.

"Very good! And now for your third!"

Again the rod was sized to the bottom. And then -

Swish! THWACK!

Ouch! "Nngh! Nngh!" Keith grunted. That third stroke was really painful! It felt as if it had crossed the previous two!

"Three strokes, thank you Miss!" came the whimper.

"Good! Halfway through! Three more to come! You'll take them and you'll appreciate them, won't you, sir?"

"Yes, Miss!"

"Very good. That's what I like to hear!"

The cane tapped and sized the bottom again. And then -

Swish! THWACK!

Ouch!!! "Nngh! Nngh!" Keith grunted again. That fourth stroke was a killer! It felt as if Miss Elizabeth was now laying her newest strokes right on top of older ones! Excruciating!

"Four strokes, thank you Miss!" he whimpered.

"Very good! And now for your fifth!"

"Yes, Miss!"

The cane tapped the bottom again. And then -

Swish! THWACK!

Ouch! "Nngh! Nngh! Nngh!" Keith grunted. That fifth stroke fell 'in the zone' again! He felt certain he'd have some very nasty buttock weals to show for his trouble!

"Five strokes, thank you Miss!" came the whimper.

"Very good, Keith sir! And now for your sixth, final, finishing stroke! I'm sure that after I've given it to you that you'll think twice before playing with yourself in front of my pretty young receptionist again! Yes, Keith sir?"

"Oh yes, Miss! I'm sure of it, Miss!"

"Yes, indeed!"

The cane tapped and stroked at the burning cloth covered bottom for the sixth time. And then -

Swish! THWACK!

The pretty young Miss lashed the big cloth-covered rump again.

"Ahhh!" Keith whimpered. The final stroke! His bottom was on fire! It positively throbbed! It felt as if someone had taken a blowtorch to it, or he'd been flogged with a hot wire!

"Six strokes, thank you, Miss!" came the whimper.

"Thank you, sir!"

He watched as Miss Elizabeth returned her cane to a nearby vase. Then she stepped about and stood before him, her fists at her hips, her bare pussy before his nose.

"Sniff me!" she spoke down to him. "And see how much I enjoy whipping naughty men like you!"

"Yes, Miss!"

Keith craned his neck to inhale the aroma of the fresh young pussy which stood before him.

"Mmm! Miss!" he groaned. Her fragrance was quite intoxicating! He poked his tongue out and wiggled it about in a vain, silly attempt to lick and tongue the fragrant little slit.

"You naughty boy!" came the voice. "I think you're enjoying your caning too much! Yes, Keith sir? Well, I'm going to take your panties down to see for myself!"

To be continued in Part 3