‘How could you?! Bloody hell! I can’t bloody believe this! I can’t believe YOU. And that’s saying something!’

It had taken a few moments for Dee to recognize what she was seeing. Rachel had not been expecting anyone. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have a spanking movie playing on her open laptop. The fact that Dee had deliberately avoided using her familiar knock on Rachel’s door had left her friend unguarded. And Dee’s anger, her admonishing finger on Rachel’s shoulder, pushing her back into her kitchen whether she liked it or not, had given no time for Rachel to hide what she’d been doing.

It was enough of a shock for Dee that Rachel was watching spanking porn. But that was no porn star’s bottom on the screen. It was Dee’s.

‘It was YOU! On the path! I just knew someone was there. You’re supposed to be my friend. But did you help me? No! You stood there making a bloody porn movie! Like some bloody pervert!’

The movie transfixed Dee. The camera work was very shaky. The light was poor. And the action was minuscule within the frame, even after Rachel had zoomed in. But that was unmistakably Dee’s backside and the farmer’s broad shoulders raining spanks down.

‘I didn’t know it was you, Dee! Not at first. Honest! It took a while to work it out. It was almost over when I recognized your voice. But even then, I wasn't sure. That’s why I was checking on my laptop screen. Honest! I…’

‘But you made a bloody movie!’

‘Well, you would, wouldn’t you?’

‘No! I would NOT! If I saw someone being spanked in the woods, I’d help. Or I’d get help. And that’s whether I knew them or not.’

‘Well, I could only just make out what was happening; it was so far off the path. And you must have agreed to let Farmer Henson spank you, Dee. Everyone knows he only spanks women when they ask for it.’

‘WHAT! You know him? You bloody knew the danger I was in, and you still didn’t warn me?’

‘Well, you were unlucky; I’ve picked mushrooms there loads of times and never been caught. But EVERYONE knows about Farmer Henson. Surely you knew? It’s the talk of the pub in that village. What’s it called? The Old Oak.’

‘Well, I did NOT bloody know. Unlike you, I don’t prop up bars gossiping with local men.’

Rachel smirked. ‘True. It’s been a while since you’ve seen any action. I’ll bet Farmer Henson could’ve given you much more than a spanking if he’d played his cards right! In fact, I scarpered before he finished spanking you. Is that what happened, Dee?’ Rachel never missed an opportunity to tease.

‘No, it bloody well is not! You little… COW! And, no, I did not ask to be spanked.’

‘What! Farmer Henson forced himself upon you? That’s terrible. We should go to the police!’ Rachel’s concern seemed genuine.

‘Well, no. I mean, he didn’t force the spanking upon me; it’s just he gave me very little choice.’

‘So you DID ask him to spank you. You always were a bit of a dark horse, Dee!’

‘NO! He gave me the choice of going to the police and confessing my “pilfering” of his bloody morels or getting a spanking on the spot.’

‘Ah. So he caught you with his mushrooms. Why didn’t you just drop them? Then how would he prove anything?’

Dee paused for a moment. Not being as devious as Rachel, denial hadn’t occurred to Dee as an option.

‘I did drop them as I ran off. But they were in a bag, and the farmer found it. My prints would have been all over that bag. I really had no choice.’

‘You really are fucking useless, Dee. So the farmer caught you with no mushrooms and found a bag he claimed was yours?’ 

‘Well, yes, but I knew the bag was mine.’

‘But how could he prove it?’

‘Well, the fingerprints.’

‘You should just have demanded to see what was in the bag while firmly denying it was yours. Then, you “thoughtlessly” reach out and touch the bag as he’s showing you: voila! He can prove nothing. Police won’t waste much time on a bag of mushrooms, especially if the evidence is dodgy. Seems to me you didn’t try all that hard to avoid your spanking. I’ll bet you enjoyed it! Go on, Dee, you can confess to me; we’re close friends!’

Dee was fuming. How did Rachel always manage to turn the tables? 

‘I most certainly did NOT enjoy my spanking. And you, young lady, are not going to enjoy the spanking I’m about to give you for getting me into trouble.’

‘Ooo! Reckon I might enjoy it, Dee. I might get turned on over your knee!’ Rachel was taunting Dee again, pouting her lips.

‘You bloody well will not!’

‘I know, I know. You keep on telling me you’re not bi. Pity. We could have some more fun.’

‘You’re not about to bring up Lanzarote again! How many more times? That was just a holiday thing. A bit of FUN!’

‘It was more than a bit of fun for that Swedish girl. She asked you to move to Stockholm after you’d played around with her for a few nights. And she was bloody gorgeous. She was never as into me, though. If I’d got that invite, I’d be eating meatballs and driving my flat-pack furniture around in a SAAB by now!’

‘I’m sure there’s more to Sweden than meatballs, IKEA and bloody SAABs, Rachel!’

‘You wouldn’t know, Dee, you didn’t go because you’re “not into girls.” Funny, you seemed well into that Swedish girl while we were in that hotel. And you enjoyed what I did to you when the three of us were in bed together. Never heard a woman scream so much.’

‘Yes, well, I was drunk. Let’s just say I have a firm preference for men.’

‘Well, we both like a bit of cock, Dee. Not that you seem to get too much. But why only look at half the menu when you obviously enjoy all the dishes?’

‘Why are we even discussing sex? I am punishing you, Rachel, not bloody getting you off. You’re going to stand against that wall with your hands on your head until I’m good and ready to tan your backside. Understood.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Don’t be bloody weird, Rachel.’

‘Well, you’re the one telling me off like I’m some delinquent youth, Mum! And I’m the weirdo?!’ With every word, Rachel forced her voice to be more childlike. Dee positioned Rachel against the wall, grabbing a letter still crisply sealed in its envelope from a stack of mail on the counter, then holding it before Rachel’s nose.

‘Just be quiet and be sure this doesn’t drop to the floor.’

‘Or else, Mum?’

‘Or else I’ll take you to Farmer Henson for a spanking when I’m done with you!’

Dee turned to prepare for the spanking and heard the sharp sound of the sealed envelope hitting the floor.

‘Oops! Sorry, Mum. Guess I’ll be getting my bot-bot spanked by the farmer, too.’

Dee rolled her eyes and noticed a large wooden spoon protruding from a utensil jar nearby. She took the spoon and slapped it lightly against the palm of her hand; it landed with a pleasing thud. She placed the spoon on the kitchen table, then spun one of the dining benches around and moved it into more space. Dee sat on the bench, contemplating her friend’s shapely backside. Rachel wore jeans upturned up at the bottom of the legs that didn’t quite reach her slip-on sandals. Her white top curved up as it arched over a tight bottom, framing her cheeks at the top in a way that pleasingly mirrored their curves below. Dee looked forward to relieving her frustrations at Rachel and her repeatedly errant behaviour.

‘Right, I’ll have you over my knee now. And don’t dare call me Mum!’

‘I won’t call you… Mum.’ Rachel would always find a way around any rule.

Rachel skipped across to Dee, taunting her with her childlike demeanour. She started to unbutton her jeans.

‘Leave those on. It’s for me to decide when they get removed.’ Dee pulled Rachel across her lap and attempted to knead her cheeks dispassionately, recalling how the farmer handled her. She placed her forefinger on a target point on one of Rachel’s buttocks, then pulled her hand back.

The first few spanks felt a little odd to Dee. Then, she quickly learned to cup her hand and put more force into her swing. Rachel wriggled gently underneath her but seemed untroubled. Dee was going to have to put some work into this. She drew her arm further back to increase the intensity of the spanks. If Dee’s efforts were making an impression, Rachel was not betraying that in any of her reactions. There was no evidence of contrition, only mild amusement.

‘Right, you can get up and remove those jeans now.’

‘Yes, Mommy dear!’

‘Rachel! I told you to stop being weird.’

‘You told me not to call you “Mum”, which I didn’t.’

‘Just cut out the weirdness, Rachel, and fold those jeans neatly!’

Rachel wriggled her bottom and complied with Dee’s order. Dee flushed as she felt fresh dampness on the crotch of her panties. There was no denying the sexual charge this was creating. But she was determined to relay none of that to Rachel.

With a deft spring, Rachel leapt over Dee’s lap once more, then thrust a hand deep into her knickers.

‘Get that bloody hand out of there, young lady! I told you I’m not here to get you off.’

‘But you’re not getting me off; I’M getting me off!’

At that moment, Dee realised she wouldn’t win, not without a little more thought and preparation, at least.

‘Right! Get those jeans back on.’

‘But Mum…Dee, er,’ Rachel was delighting in her mischievousness. ‘Um, you do realize proper spankings are on the bare?’

‘You’ll be getting a proper bare-bottomed spanking, alright, but from Farmer Henson. And I shall have the pleasure of watching.’

‘Oooh! I’m loving the ‘wait-til-yer-Dad-gets-home’ voice, not-Mum. It makes you so not like my mum. No, really!’

Dee gave a deep sigh and took her car keys from her pocket.

Rachel skipped as they went down the drive towards Dee’s car. She seemed delighted at this turn of events in a way that only heightened Dee’s trepidation. Rachel stuck her tongue out at Dee like the brat she was, giggling as she dropped into the passenger seat.

Dee retraced her journey to the woods, trying to recapture her fury in a bid to gain some control of her wayward friend. Rachel twirled her hair while beaming amused glances at Dee.

‘So you did get Farmer Henson’s number then! Interesting!’

‘No, Rachel, I did not. Unlike you, I don't have a collection of men’s numbers scrawled on supermarket receipts.’ Dee was pleased with her disapproving tone.

‘Then how are we going to hook up with Farmer Henson? That farm’s massive!’

Dee gasped in exasperation. Distracted by Rachel’s challenging behaviour, she’d not thought through how to contact Farmer Henson beyond driving back to the woods where she’d last seen him.

‘Well. It’s obvious!’ Dee was hoping her authoritative tone would both mask her lack of a plan and give her time to concoct one.

‘Yessss. Are you going to spill the beans?’ Rachel was seeing right through Dee’s bluff.

‘Well, it’s quite simple. We’ll go to the farmhouse where I’m sure someone can tell us Farmer Henson’s whereabouts.’ Dee gave a relieved sniff at her clear-minded, if freshly minted plan.

‘Ha! That’s a genius plan. “Oh, hello, Mrs Farmer Henson. Earlier on, I was wriggling my naked ass in your husband’s face as he spanked and did god knows what to it. Now I’d like him to do the same to my friend here. Could you point me in his direction? Oh, and do you have a towel in case she has an unusually massive orgasm?!”’

Rachel convulsed into laughter at the idea. Dee shook in frustration.

‘Well, I’m obviously not going to say WHY we want to see Farmer Henson. And you’ll keep your big bloody mouth shut, too!’

‘What! With Farmer Henson’s reputation for turning local ladies over his knee, you’re seriously going to bank on Mrs Farmer Henson thinking we’re after an innocent chat!? Right. Yup! That’ll be fiiiiine!’

‘Well, it seems we won’t be needing to call at the farmhouse after all. Look up there!’ There was a hint of triumph in Dee’s voice as she gestured over the hedge to their left and up to the prow of the field they were driving alongside. Jutting above the apex was the roof of an isolated barn, and silhouetted against the bright sky to the right of the barn was the distinctive silhouette of a Land Rover.

‘Oooh! Game on!’ Not only was Rachel unfazed, she was excited. ‘Though more down to luck than judgment: unless that’s a farm hand. Oooh! Being spanked by a fit young farmhand, now we’re talking!’

‘You’re not going to bloody well enjoy this, Rachel! Whoever spanks you, I’ll be asking them to give you a thorough working over.’

Rachel snorted with laughter at Dee’s unintended pun as the car swung onto the farm track leading up to where the Land Rover was parked.

As they stepped from the car, they could hear someone moving things inside the barn.

‘Right! Time for your comeuppance, young lady!’ Dee couldn’t entirely prevent her voice from betraying trepidation as she marched Rachel towards the open barn doors.

‘CUMuppance! Sounds great, Mum!’ Rachel stuck out her tongue like the brat she was.

Farmer Henson looked nonplused as Dee quickly summarised the case for the prosecution. He perused the women in disbelief before looking squarely at Dee. ‘Well, there’s not much as I can do since I didn’t catch her in the act; now is there!’

‘Of course there is; you’ll confess, won’t you, Rachel!’ Dee was fizzing with indignation. ‘Well, go on! Rachel!’

‘It’s true, Farmer Henson, I was the one you saw collecting morels last week. I didn’t mean any harm; I thought they’d just rot on the ground otherwise. I’m terribly sorry, I won’t do it again.’ Rachel was feigning naivety brilliantly.

‘Well, young lady, just you make sure you don’t. Because if I catch you, there’ll be consequences, understand?’

‘Is that it?!’ Dee was furious. ‘I get a bare-bottomed spanking in public, and she gets away with a bloody warning!’

‘Now watch your tone, young lady! And don’t dare use that kind of language with me.’

‘I’m sorry, um, Farmer Henson, it’s just she got me in trouble, then got to film as you punished me – filming on your land without permission, I might add! I thought at least she should get the same treatment! No?!’

‘Well, I get to decide who gets punished and how. And I think you’ll find this young lady was filming from a public footpath, which she’s quite entitled to do.’

Dee shook with anger and disbelief, no longer daring to raise a challenge but no less frustrated at unfolding events.

Farmer Henson looked thoughtful as he ran his fingers across the cool metal of an animal pen next to him. ‘All that said, you do have a point. This young lass did confess. Very well, I’ll punish your young friend here, but on one condition.’

‘What, what condition?’ Dee stammered with excited disbelief at Farmer Henson’s sudden change of heart.

‘Well, I’ll punish this young lady for scrumping my morels, but only if you agree to take a punishment first.’

‘P, punish ME?! First!! Now that’s blo-’ Dee stopped herself mid-expletive. ‘It’s just not…’

Farmer Henson silenced Dee simply by raising his hand.

‘You, young lady, have earned another punishment on two counts. First, your foul language and belligerent tone. I won’t have that on my farm! But also for snitching. That doesn’t sit right with me, snitching on your friend. So, I’ll punish your friend, but only after I’ve punished you again. And if you can’t agree to that, I’ll thank you to leave so I can get on. I’ve lots to do.’

Rachel jiggled with silent giggles of delight as Dee’s mouth hung open in shock, twitching as though searching for something to say.

‘Will. Will she get punished more?!’ Dee gestured to Rachel while flushing with embarrassment at how childish she was now sounding.

Farmer Henson fixed Rachel with a steady gaze. ‘How many of my morels did you pinch, young lady?’

‘Twenty. It was about twenty, Farmer Henson, Sir.’ Rachel delivered her contrite good-girl act with aplomb.

‘Very well, you’ll be spanked in sets of twenty. How many sets depends upon the change I see in your attitude. But from what I can detect, I’d say ten sets or so should do it.’

‘And me, what about me?!’ Dee sounded unintentionally brattish.

‘Well, your bottom must still be smarting from my earlier work.’ Farmer Henson smiled at the memory. ‘IF you take your punishment well, I’d say just ten strokes will do it.’

Dee hated her predicament, but the twenty-to-one mathematics was compelling.

‘Very well, on that basis, I’ll take my punishment too.’

Farmer Henson looked unconvinced. ‘You’re sure now? I’ll brook no argument once we begin, understood?’

‘Understood!’ Dee sounded almost enthusiastic in trying to overturn Farmer Henson’s reticence.

‘Understood, SIR!’ Farmer Henson rehearsed on Dee’s behalf.

‘Understood, Sir!’ Dee finally felt she’d secured the punishment for Rachel she so badly wanted to see, if at some personal cost.

‘Right, you’ll go first, and we’ll be doing things properly this time. Since I’ve already warmed you up, you can take off all your clothes and fold them neatly on the bench over there. Once you’re done, you can get those hands back on that head.’

Farmer Henson was looking intently at Dee, who was furious at her fate once more. But she knew not to resist; shaking at what she saw as an injustice, Dee began to remove her boots. Rachel stood behind the farmer, beaming delightfully and stoking Dee’s silent, indignant fury.

‘Hurry up, young lady, I haven’t got all day!’

Dee consoled herself with the thought that her punishment would be over swiftly, and then she’d have plenty of fun watching Rachel squirm. She stripped naked, folding and placing her clothes neatly as instructed, then presenting herself, hands on her head, as the breeze teased her nipples into embarrassing erections.

‘Right, young lady, turn around. I’ll start by checking my work from earlier.’

Dee pulled her lips tighter than guitar strings to keep her from expressing in words the injustice and humiliation she felt. Yet, as she spun slowly, imagining the joy Rachel would be taking in witnessing her humbling, Dee became acutely aware of how electrified she was at her submission. While she kept the lips on her face pursed to contain her emotions, the lips between her legs glistered in betrayal of her excitement.

Farmer Henson stacked two square hay bales in front of Dee.

‘Right, you bend over these so I can take a proper look at you.’

Dee, though mortified, knew better than to resist, but she clamped her legs firmly together as she stooped to comply, hoping to hide her all too obvious arousal. Farmer Henson ran his fingers over his handiwork with tender pride; then he stroked his hand down to her inner knee as the rough hay pricked Dee’s most intimate areas.

‘Now relax your legs a touch so I can examine you properly.’

Dee swallowed hard, moving her legs as little as she felt would be acceptable. She desperately wished to maintain some semblance of privacy.

‘Ooh! Farmer Henson,’ Rachel interjected, ‘it seems this young lady might be enjoying her punishment!’

Dee could hear that Rachel had stepped close behind her. How could she?!

‘Oh!’ Farmer Henson chuckled. ‘I think you might be right there! Still, ten strokes of the switch should ensure she’s taught a lesson, regardless.’

‘The switch! I did NOT agree to that.’ Dee could hold her silence no longer and rose to her feet. However, seeing Farmer Henson’s face, she immediately returned her hands to her head. She discovered that her humiliation was all the more acute for seeing her fully clothed friend standing close by and very much enjoying the scene.

‘I said strokes, not spanks! “Snitches get switches”, as my father used to say. I also made it quite clear I would brook no argument once we’d begun. So, that ten strokes will now be twelve; any more nonsense from you, and we’ll go up from there. Understood?’

‘Understood, S-, Sir.’ Seeing Farmer Henson turn away to prepare, Dee risked a quick glare of pure anger at Rachel, who parried with a wink and a pout that only whitened the heat of Dee’s fury.

Farmer Henson returned, holding a penknife in front of Dee’s nose that he tucked into the hands on her head.

‘Right, you’ll find a willow tree around the back of this barn; you’re to go and cut a nice green switch that’s at least three feet long with a base as thick as your little finger. And mind that it fits the bill! If I have to send you back to try again, you’ll get two more strokes for each repeat attempt. Understand?’

Eyes wide with astonishment, Dee could barely believe her voice as she heard herself saying, meekly: ‘Understood, Sir.’

Covering her breasts with her arms, Dee scurried out of the barn door.

‘You’re to keep those hands on your head at all times unless cutting your switch, do you hear? And don’t think I can’t see you while you’re out there!’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Dee shivered as the cool breeze teased her flesh. Her eyes darted over the prow of the hill, searching for any cars on the lane or, worse, dog walkers. She couldn’t see anything but didn’t want to take the chance of pausing for a proper look; besides, the faster Dee descended to the willow, the less she’d risk being seen.

Dee held her finger against the weeping fronds of the willow tree, determined to meet Farmer Henson’s specification precisely. She winced as she cut a thick, green switch; then, closing the penknife and holding the switch above her head, she returned to the barn. Approaching the prow of the hill, Dee scanned the road for life once more. There was a car disappearing in the distance, and she quickened her step to get back inside without delay. The rough concrete bit at the bare soles of her feet. But the reality of hurrying naked into the barn, hands on head like a naughty girl, bit at Dee more, to the apparent delight of Farmer Henson and Rachel.

Farmer Henson reached up and took the switch and the knife.

‘Well, I’d say that’s quite suitable. Perhaps we’re getting some obedience from you at last.’

In the periphery of her vision, Dee could see Farmer Henson peeling the switch across the knife blade and Rachel beaming with wicked satisfaction beyond. She’d have to turn her mind to getting even with Rachel. But before she could plan a punishment for Rachel’s latest outrages, she must endure her own correction.

‘Right!’ Farmer Henson sounded satisfied with his work. ‘I’ll have you back over these bales. And this time, keep those feet at shoulder width.’

Dee winced as the rush of cool air heightened the sensation of wetness between her legs. Her mind was entirely on her pussy, willing her juices to stop flowing but becoming more aroused every moment she remained vulnerable and on display.

The sound of the switch cutting harshly through the air brought Dee back into her head. She flinched, even though Farmer Henson was merely taking a practice stroke.

‘Right, given the state of your posterior, I’ll take this easy and land a good half of the strokes on the back of your thighs.’

Dee clamped her eyes shut. She was supposed to be going to the swimming baths tomorrow. Dee loved swimming, but the thought of being seen in public with switch marks on the backs of her legs horrified her. It would be a while before she made it back to the pool.

‘Now remember to count and say your thank yous!’

SWISH! SWISH!

‘One, two, Sir. Thank you, Sir.’

The first stroke landed across Dee’s tender buttocks. Though Farmer Henson was taking things lightly, it ripped at her raw flesh with a searing flick, only to return a second burning lash onto the back of her thighs in rapid succession.

Farmer Henson ran his hand up the back of Dee’s legs, straying dangerously close to her weeping cunt. Dee bit her lip at the intense waves of pain and pleasure that pulsated in her core.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

Dee swallowed her screams to get in her count. ‘Three, four, five, Sir. Thank you, Sir.’

There was no stopping the sobs. The three strokes left the backs of Dee’s legs afire from just below the buttocks to just above the knees. She was desperate to rub them but knew better than to try.

Softly, Farmer Henson stroked the back of Dee’s legs once more. Her skin fizzled with pleasure and stinging pain. As he drew near to the tops of her thighs, Dee’s bottom jinked up, bringing the outer folds of her pussy dangerously close to Farmer Henson’s fingertips and forcing her clitoris into the rough hay. Dee held her breath, caught between the coarse, teasing hay and the firm hands of the farmer; she could feel an orgasm building from deep within. Dee’s body yearned to abandon itself to ecstasy, but in her mind, she determined to resist at all costs. The humiliation of orgasming in front of Farmer Henson and Rachel would be excruciating. The farmer’s fingers withdrew.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

‘Six, seven, eight. Thank you, Sir! Oh fuck! Fuck!’

Somehow, the pain of the switch was giving Dee the most intense pleasure. And the last three blows had reverberated directly through her cunt, causing Dee to grind her clitoris hard into the pricking hay. The agony of the hay and her punishment flipped almost instantly into ecstasy. Dee was starting to orgasm harder, faster and louder than ever.

‘Oh, JESUS! FUUCK! FUUUCK!

SWISH!

‘You’ll pay for that foul language, young lady. And don’t dare orgasm during my punishment, or there’ll be consequences, understand?’

‘I think it’s too late, Farmer Henson!’ Rachel delivered her verdict with jubilation.

‘SHIT, FUCK!’ The short, sharp switch had tipped Dee into a second and deeper wave of orgasmic release.

‘They’ll be six more strokes for you, young lady. And since you’ve taken such pleasure in what’s supposed to be your punishment, I’ll forgive your friend here the spanking you so wanted her to receive. Disobedient girls don’t get their way!’

A wave of indignant frustration gripped Dee and only intensified the convulsions of her orgasm.

‘SHIT! SHIT!’

Farmer Henson tapped the switch against Dee’s writhing buttocks.

‘Now calm yourself! And don’t forget to count! What doesn’t get counted doesn’t count!’

‘Yes, YES! Sir!’ Dee’s attempt to hide her ongoing ecstasy was unconvincing.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

‘Err… Ten, eleven, twelve. Thank you, Sir!’

‘No, we’re starting at nine. Now let’s try that again.’

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

‘Nine, ten, eleven. Thank you, Sir!’

Every nerve ending on Dee’s body was alight; consumed by ecstasy and lust, she writhed onto the hay bale with every stroke.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

‘Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Thank you, Sir!’

‘Right! Since you snitched on your friend here and then took such foul-mouthed pleasure in your whipping, she’ll be delivering the last four strokes. I hope that teaches you a bit of loyalty and respect, young lady!’

Dee pursed her lips, furious at the injustice yet deeply electrified at her complete submission.

‘Farmer Henson…’ Rachel sounded both flawlessly polite and deeply mischievous. ‘Given that Dee here has enjoyed her punishment so much, I think it only right she thanks you, you know, properly.’

‘Oh, er, well, yes, I see what you mean.’

Dee blinked the tears from her eyes as the farmer stepped in front of her. Then she saw Rachel’s hand easing down the zip of Farmer Henson’s jeans and disappearing inside.

‘Oo, ahh, that feels very good, young lady.’

It had been a while since Dee had seen a cock. She swallowed hard as Rachel worked Farmer Henson’s manhood clear of his zip, scooping out his balls to complete the presentation. It was already proud and thick, and Rachel charmed it expertly until the head of Farmer Henson’s cock strained to a shine within kissing distance of Dee’s lips.

Caught in a primal lust, Dee reached greedily with her tongue, drawing the tip of the cock towards her mouth. Rachel slid quietly out of view to take her place with the switch.

SWISH!

‘Argh!’ Rachel was striking harder and faster than Farmer Henson.

‘Now! Don’t forget to count.’

‘Fifteen. Thank you, Sir!’

‘Don’t thank me. You’ll need to say “Thank you, Ma’am.”’

Dee couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

‘Quickly, now. Else that last stroke won’t count.’

‘Thank you, Ma’am.’

‘Very good. Now, you can get those lips back to thanking me.’

Dee slid her tongue around Farmer Henson’s knob, flicking around it with the tip. She was determined not to be the only one orgasming in that barn that day.

SWISH! SWISH!

‘Oo, sixteen, seventeen. Thank you, S-, Ma’am.’

Dee briefly pulled her mouth clear of the farmer’s cock and clenched her teeth hard to manage the stinging pain before returning to her duties.

Rachel teased Dee’s flaming buttocks with soft taps of the switch before pulling it back with a cutting swoop.

SWISH!

‘Ha! Ah! Ew! Eighteen. Thank you, Ma’am.’

‘Very good.’ Farmer Henson’s voice cracked a little from his pleasuring. ‘You’ve taken that punishment bravely. Well, other than your orgasm and foul outbursts. Now, let’s have you focused on your thank yous.’

Dee was swimming in waves of lust, sliding her mouth deep over Farmer Henson’s twitching prick.

‘Farmer Henson?’ Rachel sounded like a helpful prefect. ‘I don’t suppose you have any cream? It’s just Dee’s bottom is very sore. I could see to that while she sees to… er… her duties.’

‘Oh! Mmmm. Of course.’

Farmer Henson dipped into his pocket and handed the cream to Rachel, who proceeded to tease it over Dee’s cheeks with erotic delight. Once she’d covered Dee’s burning flesh amply, Rachel slid her moistened fingers lightly around Dee’s clitoris, plunging two of them deep inside her cunt after every few rotations. Dee found herself mirroring Rachel, curling her tongue around Farmer Henson’s hood, then sucking his cock deep into her mouth as Rachel thrust her fingers into Dee.

Farmer Henson began to moan deeply.

‘Oo, Farmer Henson.’ Rachel’s excitement betrayed that she was about to offer another helpful suggestion. ‘Dee’s vagina feels very receptive. It would be a shame to let such willing wetness go to waste.’

‘Oh, ho! Yes, I do agree!’

Dee’s eyes shot wide open as Farmer Henson slid his thick cock deep inside her from behind. He took a fistful of her hair, pulling it as a brace as he built a steady rhythm with his fucking.

Rachel stepped in front of Dee, stroking her face before working her thumb into Dee’s mouth to give her a taste of her own juices.

Part of Dee wanted to bite her friend in fury. But she found a curious pleasure in sucking Rachel’s thumb with submissive lust. Soon, however, Dee’s moans sent Rachel’s thumb free. Rachel ran her hands under Dee’s breasts, squeezing her nipples hard before teasing around them in circles.

Dee’s moans grew more urgent. The farmer’s cock was slamming into her now, forcing her clit into the teasing hay as pulses of pleasure coursed across her skull from the farmer’s tight grip on her hair, with Rachel’s teasing rapidly building a nipplegasm.

‘SH…OOW!’ Somehow, Dee avoided another expletive. ‘OOO! AAAH! OOOOO! OO! AAAAAAAH!’ Dee was screaming now, with no care who or what heard her pleasure.

The orgasm took her from both ends. It pulsed from her nipples, her clit, and deep within her cunt, opening pathways in her burning body that she’d never felt before.

‘UUUUGH!’ Farmer Henson pulled clear, shooting a hot ribbon of spunk along Dee’s back.

Rachel planted a kiss squarely on Dee’s open mouth.

As Dee dressed in her top, her coat and her socks, she paused, rubbing the cream on her burning behind as she pondered the unappealing prospect of pulling on her tight jeans and panties.

‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, young lady!’ Farmer Henson walked to a bale-wrapping machine at the side of the barn and cut free a length of black plastic before returning to Dee and wrapping it around her like a skirt.

‘There, that’ll be easier on you, and it’ll keep that cream good and moist.’

The farmer picked up Dee’s neatly folded jeans and panties and handed them to Rachel, who scooped them under her wing and proffered an upturned hand towards Dee with a wry smile.

‘I think I’ll be doing the driving on the way back.’

Dee scooped the car keys from her coat and handed them to Rachel compliantly.

‘Well, I must say, ladies, that was a treat.’ Farmer Henson was scribbling on a scrap of paper as he spoke. ‘Here’s my number. There are a few local lasses who like to come to the barn for some correction. And a little more than that, too, now and again. I call them my Milk Wives, this having been the milking parlour back when I still did dairy. I’d be delighted to welcome you again anytime.’ He handed the paper to Rachel.

‘Thank you!’ Rachel bobbed in delight at the farmer’s offer as Dee narrowly avoided rolling her eyes in disgust.

Dee flopped across the backseat of her car, knees in the footwell, keeping her roasting flesh away from any contact. Rachel took the wheel, indicating crisply as she turned onto the lane, full of elation and vigour.

Dee was perplexed. Her mind wanted to be furious at Rachel, yet her body was swooning in submissive tenderness.

‘Milk Wives! He’s got a bloody cheek! It’s like something out of a Margret bloody Atwood novel!’

‘Oh, give over, Dee. You get an invitation to mind-blowing orgasms whenever you want them, and all you can do is complain. I think being a Milk Wife is a great idea. Maybe we could get all the Milk Wives together in a row, you know, turn that barn back into a milking parlour. It used to be the farmer milking the cows; now it could be us cows milking the farmer!’ Rachel chuckled in delight at her joke.

‘Where are your bloody feminist principles?’ Dee managed a reasonable job of sounding outraged.

‘Ha! Right! Mind-blowing orgasm avoidance. Is that a feminist principle now? If so, count me out. Sisters can do it for themselves if they like. I mean, I’m all up for that, but why pass up other kinds of fun?’

Dee stayed silent.

‘I’m not being funny, Dee, but before today, your sex life wasn’t so much DOA as six feet under and without a worm in sight. And you’ve gone from that to your best-ever orgasm, thanks to Farmer Henson and me. Frankly, you should show a bit more gratitude!’

‘What?! That’s outrageous! And that wasn’t my best-ever orgasm, actually.’ Dee’s lie hung sorely in the air.

‘Oh, don’t come over all Debbie-Does-Dallas with me, young lady. Tell me, then, when and where have you had a better orgasm, exactly? I mean, our Swedish friend made you scream, but not quite as hard as that. We’d have been chucked out of the hotel if she did!’

Dee’s silence spoke volumes. But the burning humiliation of being so caught in a fib by Rachel brought its guilty pleasures as the blanket of her submission was far from lifting, however much Dee willed it away with her mind.

As the hedges above her gave way to buildings, Dee steeled herself to sit up. After all, it would be odd to any passer-by that she was getting from the back of a car with a tear-streaked face and a strange plastic skirt, but she might just pull that off. If she slid out like a snake, Dee thought she might betray the nature of her recent humiliation all too clearly.

Rachel pulled the car neatly to the curb, springing out and bounding around to open the door next to Dee before Dee was ready to alight. Gingerly, Dee pulled herself upright to stand on the curb, appalled that Rachel was doing nothing to hide the jeans and knickers she was carrying on Dee’s behalf.

As they made their way back along the drive, Rachel’s neighbour, Katy, appeared from her door on the other side of a low fence. Katy’s eyes locked immediately on Dee’s distinctive skirt.

‘Well, well, I see someone has earned one of Farmer Henson’s special skirts. Have we been a naughty girl?’

Dee sniffed sharply, forcing a shocked smile, as Rachel gave a full and knowing laugh.

‘I’ve never been so humiliated! Does every bloody woman around here know about Farmer Henson?’ Dee had held her tongue until Rachel shut the door but now stood in Rachel’s kitchen, her face red with embarrassment and anger. Rachel’s shoulders shook with giggles of delight.

‘We’ll, I’m sure most don’t know about Farmer Henson. But I know Katy is very well acquainted. In fact, I reckon she might well be a Milk Wife.’ Rachel picked up the large wooden spoon Dee had readied earlier and slapped it against her hand, flashing looks of mock disapproval at Dee. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t we be watching our language, young lady, or do I need to give you a sharp reminder, hmm?’

‘Don’t push your luck, Rachel. WE are still very far from being even right now!’

‘Oh, I quite agree, Dee. But I’m prepared to forgive you, given the punishment you’ve taken, so long as you accept the errors of your ways.’

‘YOU! Forgive ME!? What are you talking about?’

‘Look, Dee, you know I love you to bits, but it’s time I told it to you straight. You can be rather uptight: a beast of your home-made burdens. And it makes you rather superior at times and blind to your shortcomings.’

Dee stood aghast.

‘M-, my shortcomings!?’

‘Yes. After all, you chose to follow my tip and pick mushrooms on land that was obviously private. When you got caught, you agreed to a spanking you could easily have avoided. Then you got mad with me for telling you about the morels and for making a video I was perfectly entitled to shoot in a public place. Then you decided I should be punished – which I went along with more for fun than anything else – only for you to decree that Farmer Henson should deliver said punishment. Then you agreed to let Farmer Henson whip you for swearing and snitching on me, and you discovered a deep and newfound fetish for submission and humiliation. You further agreed to let Farmer Henson wrap your reddened loins in plastic to avoid the discomfort of your jeans. You did all those things and enjoyed most of them; you greatly enjoyed them! Now you’re angry with everyone but yourself because you don’t want to accept your true self and take responsibility for your actions.’

Dee’s eyes blinked wide as she struggled to make sense of everything.

‘But, but it’s all so… UNFAIR!’

Rachel laughed.

‘Oh, Dee, you’re so cute when you’re angry. It’s not unfair at all, silly. Now be a good girl, shut up and let Ma’am fuck you senseless.’

Dee’s mouth fell agape. Rachel took her by the shoulders and thrust her searching tongue deep between Dee’s parted lips as her hands felt for the end of the plastic to set Dee’s welted limbs and dripping cunt free.