Sore Female Bums War and Peace

I drew back and gave her a hard stroke. She jerked, and I saw her bottom muscles convulse a few times. Nancy hung on to the edge of the bath, arms outstretched with white knuckles.

Slowly gathering herself, she said, "Wow, yes, that's the one." I swapped over to the senior cane and rested it on her bottom again. There were three welts, and the last one was a deeper red.

"How hard do you want the first one with the senior cane, please?" I asked.

"About eighty per cent. But full strength for the last two," was her quick reply.

I drew back the lithe golden rod and gave her a fairly powerful swipe.

She yelped and squirmed about on the edge of the bath. It took her a couple of minutes to get ready and then she said, "Number five, please."

I cracked the next one home as hard as I could and she jerked upright, muscles and sinews standing out. It took her a little over three minutes to compose herself for number six.

"Number six, please."

It was getting to her.

I swung a fearful stroke across the others at an angle to wake up the earlier ones. She yelled out loud, jerked herself to her feet, and jumped up and down on the spot, rubbing frantically at her bottom, red in the face but not crying.

I noticed a thin trickle of secretions from her vagina running down her inside leg. The caning had turned her on.

After about five minutes, she picked up the Reformatory, looked carefully at it, and ran her fingers up and down it. Nancy said, "One only, but very hard. Don't hold back, please."

"Are you sure?" I asked, looking her in the eye.

"Yes," she replied unflinchingly. She lay down on the side of the bath.

"Let me tell you when I'm ready."

She got her body well down into the bath, tucked her knees under to tighten her rump, and said, "Ready."

I took very careful aim and swung a maximum-force disciplinary stroke right across the fattest part of her bum.

There was the usual carpet beater 'CRACK' sound followed by a frenzied howl from Nancy. She lay there for about a minute, then got up, still shaking in pain and clutching her bottom, her face all screwed up.

I took her half-doubled-up through into the bedroom.

"Lie down. I will get some ice cubes."

I had some ready in the fridge, so I went down and fetched them.

She was lying there, obviously having recovered a little already, but still rubbing at her bum.

I went to work with the ice cubes and about a quarter of an hour later; she rolled over onto her side. Nancy said, "One stroke of that heavy cane doesn't hurt as bad as twelve, but it's still severe."

I"Nancy, I know you received canings before. Why was that?"

She grinned, "It was a dare with the other girls, and I used to charge for letting them and some boys look at the marks afterwards!"

"When they first used the senior cane on me, it hurt a lot more, but then I liked the feelings afterwards. If I wanted a wonderful orgasm, I would behave badly to get caned! I only took more care when it got to eight strokes on the bare. One time when you were still in the navy they gave me to the gym mistress to be caned."

"The gym mistress put me over the horse and another teacher held me down. The gym mistress gave me eight terrible strokes with the senior cane and I thought I was going to die. I knew it was worse because the cane made such a noise in the air. They did it on a Friday, so I was in awful pain all weekend and in some pain for the next week."

"Later, it made me feel sexy. I could have an orgasm in class if I squeezed my thighs together and wriggled about on my bum. But it was just too painful to go seeking another dose of that sort of caning. After that, I was careful until I got caught trying to get into the school. I did it for a bit of a dare. The consequences never bothered me because I thought I would not get caught."

"I couldn't take another of those twelve-stroke canings. What we did today was OK. It hurts, but I feel good."

"Sir, you have been very kind to me. Can I do anything for you?"

"No thank you, Nancy. We have been naughty enough for one day," I replied.

Nancy got dressed, and I made her a cup of tea, and then she walked home. She didn't live so very far from us.

When Jean arrived, I tried not to act like the cat that had had the cream! I had to tell her all about it. She listened intently and seemed pleased that I had contributed to the broader education of young Nancy! We talked about what Nancy had said, and Jean seemed relieved that she was settling down at university. She thought Cambridge attracted some of the more adventurous and colourful types, not only the brilliant people.

With a wicked gleam in her eye, she said, "I've had my fun, too. The gym was not in use this afternoon, so I sent for and caned those two girls immediately after school."

"One had seriously bullied a younger girl, and the other had smoked behind the bicycle sheds for the third time, so it was eight on the bare with the senior cane each!"

"I tossed a coin to see who would be first, took the loser into the gym; put her over the lowered vaulting horse. I let her have it as hard as I could with a quick run to increase the power of the swing. The strokes sounded like pistol shots and you should have heard them yelling too! I made them wait in earshot, so the one waiting had the nasty experience of knowing what was coming."

"When I caned the second girl, she put her hands out to protect her bum after the fifth stroke, so she got one more! They were both in the toilets, still howling away ten minutes later. I bet they never come back again!"

I admit I laughed!

Jean said, "You know, I must have my dozen of that Reformatory cane hard, fast, and no stopping. I must take it if an eighteen-year-old can handle it, and I'm in the mood. Let's do it right away!"

"Are you sure? I'm the one who seriously needs a caning, my love, because I have been naughty. Nancy needed me to show her how to use the bidet, because she said she had forgotten. There was no penetrative sex, but I helped her to wash."

Jean smiled, and replied, "There are worse things than that. Nancy needs to know about the tenderness of a good man, and who better than you to teach her, darling?"

Her generosity of spirit was wonderful.

I stripped off, took a quick shower, and got over the edge of the bath. I heard a terrific shriek of the cane in the air, and a furious line of fire blazed across my bum.

Eleven more strokes followed in quick succession. It was agonising, but I had an enormous erection. Jean said, "Can you save that for later, after you cane me, please?"

"Yes, of course. Are you ready to find out what the reformatory cane feels like?"

"Yes. Lie over the trunk, as usual."

We went to the bedroom. The trunk and the cushions were ready. They were prepared for Nancy, but I hadn't needed them. Wiping the reformatory cane with a cloth soaked in disinfectant; I dried it and flexed it in my hands. Jean came in naked except for the towel around her and got over the cushions.

I tied her up quickly to the handles. She looked around and said, "Remember, no stopping unless I yell out 'Red.'"

"OK, I replied, but if you bleed, I'm going to stop."

"No, don't," she said. "Not unless it's bleeding badly." This was getting serious.

Jean called out, "I'm ready," so I let her have it as hard and fast as I could.

It was over within a minute. My right arm was sore, and I was panting for breath. But my arm was nothing like as sore as her bottom.

During the caning, Jean had shaken her head from side to side and tried to yell, but another agonising stroke or running out of breath stopped her yells. At the end, she lay there, still writhing a bit and sobbing her heart out.

After I untied Jean, she stayed over the cushions for a bit, clutching at her severely chastised bum, with her sobs dying away. Her buttocks were in a sorry state of criss-crossed massive welts and she was oozing a little blood in a few places.

Before I started on her, a finger in her vagina showed me that the beating had hugely stimulated Jean, and it wouldn't take much to get her on cloud nine! I entered her in doggy fashion, and we both had enormous orgasms. Ice cube treatment followed, and then I gently applied cold cream.

When she could talk again, she said, "That's it for me for a few weeks, to think I did that to an eighteen-year-old. How wicked of me!"

I think it worried Jean in two ways when she caned the girls. She genuinely thought it was good for them in the long term, but she thought it was very harsh, and a little cruel, too.

"How was it?"

Jean screwed up her face.

"Agonising beyond all belief. No one can forget receiving a caning like that. It must alter their behaviour forever."

"John, be a dear and help me in the bathroom. Then kiss me again, I beg."

I helped her use the bidet again so that her weight did not press on her cane welts, then found plasters for the worst of the oozing crossed-over marks. We retired to the bedroom eventually and helped soothe her overworked nervous system with gentle attention to her pleasure zones.

The next day, Jean went to work, but I noticed she was walking stiffly. By the next evening, she seemed quite a lot better. She was a tough lady, but I guess she needed to be.

And so life continued. Nancy found herself a boyfriend who seemed well-built and authoritarian. I imagined she could have a sore bottom any time she wanted one. Jean and I carried on happily together and Jean got pregnant shortly after the twelve-stroke navy cane beating! We had to stop spanking when she got pregnant. You can't see the doctor with cane marks on your bum, can you?