My name is Kim and I’m a nineteen-year-old girl studying at a university in the UK. About six months ago, whilst still at home before starting college, I had a once-in-a-lifetime experience with my friend Sophie and her mother, Jean, who has been my mother’s friend for many years.

My parents were in some ways very modern, but in other ways, old-fashioned. My mother believed in strict discipline at home but had an excellent understanding of female sexuality.

This did not stop her from being a disciplinarian! My mother, for serious offences, caned me at home. My mother told me that as long as I was living under her roof, I must accept her discipline. Eventually, this changed.

A caning, whilst painful, always sexually aroused me. This I dealt with by pleasuring myself. The self-pleasuring aroused me so much that I almost welcomed my next caning and sometimes, I ‘brought it on.’

Mother started caning me at age sixteen. After the caning, she took me into the shower and washed down the cane marks with warm water.

Mother said, “Please wash your vulva because the cane strokes cause you arousal and a small amount of ‘leakage.’ It’s best to wash, so it doesn’t smell.”

Mother did this, I was sure, to assist my understanding of the resulting pleasurable sensations without saying so. The water flow on my vulva and clitoris was very pleasant. I had until then, not worked out any connection of water flow from the shower head with sexual pleasure, but the ‘penny dropped.’

After a caning and water-assisted masturbation session, I felt refreshed and altogether focused in mind and body. It helped with my studies. This satiated me for a while after a good caning and I could concentrate on whatever was at hand.

A few times, I made up stories to tell my mother, which would ensure I received a dose of the cane. Receiving the cane aroused me such that water flow sensations were far stronger than they were without the caning. At first, my mother gave me a hand spanking before my caning to ‘warm me up.’

Mother said that the cane would not be so painful after a hand spanking. She was right. As I got older, the hand spankings stopped, and I received ‘cold canings.’ The cold canings were indeed much more painful. My canings were always done when my father was out. As I got used to it, about two hours after the caning, Mother would come to my room with a leather strap.

I would lie face down on the bed and she would give me six strokes of the strap on top of my cane marks. This woke them up, and they stung like a million bee stings. The orgasms in the shower afterward more than compensated for the pain. Later I would thank Mother for the punishment, have a cuddle with her, and tell her how much better I felt, which was perfectly true.

Jean, the lady in question, is very attractive, is in her mid-forties, and is a senior nurse in a major hospital. I had always liked her. I know she canes her daughter Sophie, who is my friend and the same age as me. Sophie came to me in tears one day. Sophie knew I received canings because she had seen the marks on my bottom at school in the showers and this gave her the courage to talk to me about it.

We went up to my bedroom where Sophie showed me three unmistakable “tram line” marks from a moderate caning well spaced across her bottom. I knew from experience that Sophie had received only a light caning, but I did not tell her that.

When she finished crying her heart out, she said that her mother had used to give her the slipper. Then one day, her mother saw Sophie smoking with a friend, the two of them being hidden (so they thought) behind a tree near a bus stop.

When Sophie’s mother asked her, Sophie admitted she had been smoking and had done it for a dare. Sophie was told to undress, went over her mother’s knee, and received three strokes of the cane. I was a little surprised because Sophie’s treatment at the hands of her mother seemed very abrupt. My mother would sit me down and talk about how I had been naughty and what the punishment would be. She would agree with me when she would cane me and tenderly assure me she loved me.

Sophie did not know her mother had a cane and from that moment onwards, it was Sophie’s standard punishment for acts of serious indiscipline. She was better behaved than me, but she still received canings two or three times a year and the number of strokes was usually the standard ‘six of the best’.

I lacked the courage to tell Sophie that canings turned me on; because I thought it might upset her if I told her receiving canings turned me on while she hated it. One Sunday I was at home, getting ready hopefully for university whilst waiting for my ‘A’ level results. Jean was having coffee with my mother and I overheard them talking about ‘girl punishments’.

I was due for a caning for leaving the house and car unlocked when I went out and for putting so much soap in the washing machine; it damaged itself with an overflow of bubble-driven soapy water. It was to be the usual six cane strokes, as these were not the most serious of offences, although the washing machine repair bill was expensive. We had agreed Mother was going to cane me that morning, but Jean had arrived unexpectedly just before the appointed time.

I was wearing a cute little mini-skirt and pale blue skimpy panties. Bending forward across the table to pick up some paperwork, I heard Jean say, “What a beautiful little bottom! It would be lovely to give it a good spanking.”

Looking around, I was embarrassed and saw my mother and Jean smiling at me. Her remarks immediately and unexpectedly made me feel wet, and I blushed furiously!

My mother said, “Jean, you are here at an excellent moment. I was about to give Kim a caning when you arrived. Kim darling, would you mind Jean seeing you receive your caning, please?”

It didn’t bother me. Jean was very attractive, and I welcomed the idea of her seeing my naked bottom.

“No, I don’t mind. Shall we do it in my room, please?” I replied.

Mother said, “Of course, no time like the present.” So we went upstairs, and I undressed to the buff. As usual, I washed my bottom and parts in my en-suite shower, leaving the door open so they could see. Back in the bedroom, they were sitting on two chairs.

“How about going over Jean’s knee?” said Mother.

I was soaking at the thought and so I said, “Yes, why not?”

As I draped myself over her knee, I felt Jean ease my bottom cheeks apart.

She said, “Kim, I can see that you are looking forward to your punishment.”

This was only the truth, so I said softly, “Jean, I don’t enjoy my canings, but I love the feeling afterward.”

“May I please give you a hand spanking first, Kim?” asked Jean.

“If it’s fine with Mother, then it’s fine with me,” I replied.

By this time, Mother was holding the cane ready for action and she said, “It’s a kindness to give Kim a hand spanking before a caning. If Kim is content, so am I.”

“Are you ready, please?” asked Jean.

“Yes,” I replied. My private thought was ‘Please hurry.’

The hand spanking began. Jean had very hard hands, and it hurt more than when my mother did it. Cloud Nine beckoned, and I was afraid I could not stop myself from having an orgasm. The inevitable happened and despite my best efforts, any normal woman would know I was in the grip of an enormous orgasm. My buttocks were in uncontrollable motion, clenching and unclenching under Jean’s hard hand.

Mother said, “I apologise for Kim’s behaviour. Kim never did that when I punished her. I will have to give her extra cane strokes. Jean, do you think you could keep Kim on your knee for her caning, please?”

Better news could not have reached my ears. I wondered if Mother had guessed my feelings.

Jean said, “Of course, if you like, I will rub her bum after each stroke. We should be kind to poor Kim and offer her some solace. She has given us a wonderful display of bravery under punishment. Her total lack of prudery is a tribute to both of you.”

Mother said, “Are you ready, Kim? I will start the six strokes and I may give you more.”

In a dreamy voice, still under the influence of Cloud Nine, I replied, “Yes, I’m ready. Please do them good and hard today.”

Jean tightened her grip on my upper body and looped her leg over the back of my legs. The cane went ‘tap, tap,’ and then the usual whistling sound, ending in ‘crack’ as the cane hit my bottom. It was a hard stroke, but in my frame of mind at that moment, it did not feel very hard.

Jean rubbed the mark and said, “Brave girl, I have never caned Sophie so hard.”

“Thank you, Jean,” I said.

‘Tap, tap’ whistling sound and ‘crack’. Another stinger landed on my rump. The hand spanking and orgasms were helping me deal with the pain. Mother carried on until she had given me the last of the six strokes.

I begged, “Please, Mother, give me a few more.”

Mother said, “It will help you and you deserve it for being a wonderful daughter. Jean, please don’t rub her, so the pain will build and take Kim ‘over the top.’”

Mother began her second set of cane strokes and this time, there was a much shorter time interval between them. My arousal rapidly increased and after about the seventh stroke of this second set, another enormous orgasm shook me. Jean rubbed my bottom, and it felt heavenly. I was in small tears of pure joy.

After five minutes, I got up and kissed Jean. She had been so good to me. I said to Mother and Jean, “Please allow me a few moments alone in the bathroom. In about two hours, I will be ready for your usual dose of the strap.”

Ready for it! I would have died if the strapping did not take place and I could hardly wait!

After cleaning myself up in my en-suite bathroom, I thought things over. Jean, I guessed, wanted to spank and probably cane me again. Her attraction to me was considerable and I would even welcome a sexual advance from her. I had had no sexual contact with other females and only a very limited amount of contact with immature young men up to that time.

Mother later came to my room, and I received a good strapping with the usual excellent outcome.

Thinking about Sophie, I wanted to see how things were at her home. The next day, on my scooter, I went to her house about two miles away. Sophie and I had been friends for years, and it would not look odd if I dropped in. When I arrived, Sophie was cutting the grass and looked a little apprehensive. I noticed a dent and scratches on the side of her mother’s car and said, “Your mum will need to get that fixed, I guess.”

Sophie looked down and said nothing for a moment, and she began, “It was my fault. I did it trying to back out of the gate. I just wasn’t paying enough attention. Later in the week, I dropped and broke one of my mother’s best Spode dishes from a matching set. She had them given to her as a wedding present, and then I was cheeky with her about a few things.”

“Mother thinks I need a dozen hard strokes to make me more attentive and remind me to be polite.” I noticed a little tear running down her cheek.

“Let’s finish cutting the grass, then go for a walk and a talk,” I said. Sophie brightened up and smiled. We finished cutting the lawn quickly and put away the mower.

Sophie’s house was on the edge of town with a heath behind it and a pine forest about half a mile beyond that. It was a hot day and it would be cool in the woods, so we headed off there.

Once away from home, Sophie said, “I’m just finishing my period. Mother will cane me once it dries up and I should be ready by tomorrow. We both prefer to do it when Dad is at work because I get so embarrassed if he is in the house when I’m caned. Mother and I have agreed that she will cane me only when we are alone at home.”

I thought for a moment and replied, “Sophie, we know we receive canings. Would it help this time if I’m around? I could comfort you after your twelve strokes?”

Sophie twisted her fingers together and said, “It will be better if I know you are there because it will make me braver. Mother has given me eight cane strokes at a time until now. Your presence will help me. Mother always comforts me afterward and rubs cream into my bottom. She’s kind, really; it’s just a matter of discipline.”

“We are doing it tomorrow at two pm if you could be at home. I’m sure Mother won’t mind. After she rubs the cream onto my caned bottom, I always try to sleep to wait for the soreness to decrease. I find it helps.”

Was Sophie turned on after or whilst she received a caning? So I said, “Sophie, I know this is personal, but do you get any sexual arousal from being caned? It turns me on and since I rationalised the feelings, I have enjoyed receiving a caning. Do you ever experience anything like that, please?”

Sophie looked away and said, “Thank you so much for asking. My embarrassment stopped me from talking about it. Yes, I get aroused. I don’t like to play with myself because I am so afraid that it is abnormal and I should try to stop myself from enjoying it for that reason.”

Taking Sophie in my arms, I said, “If I caned you, would you like that?”

Sophie burst into tears and said, “It has been my fantasy for ages that you would cane me, but I did not know how to tell you.”

It touched me. I had this effect on my friend. Fantasies are normal. Were it not for fantasies, the world of the arts would be much poorer.

So I said, “I can go home and find one of my mother’s canes. We can come back here to the woods and find a quiet spot. Daylight lasts until late this time of the year. We have seen no one here this afternoon. I can cane you with six or twelve strokes or whatever. What will your mum think tomorrow when she sees your caned bum?”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed if I do it. I’ve seen your caned bum before and you have seen mine. We have no secrets.”

Sophie stopped crying and said, “My pussy is jumping at the thought of it. Let’s do it, please.”

We hurried back to her house. I rode home on my scooter, found a thin cane, hid it in a bag, and went back to Sophie’s house. Her mother still had not returned from the hospital, so we left for the woods before anyone knew.

The woods were nearly two miles deep. We followed a track for about ten minutes and then went into the woods off the track for another ten minutes. You could not see for more than about one hundred yards in any direction. We sat down on a fallen tree and kept quiet. There was the noise of birds and a few squirrels were around, but there was no sign of other people.

I said, “I’ve got the cane and a couple of old towels. This trunk is good. I can put the towels folded over it and you can lie on them. How is your period?”

Sophie said, “I checked, it’s dried up. How do you want to do it, please?”

“Can you take it on your bare bum?” I replied. “You are wearing shorts, so if we hear anyone, you can cover up quickly if you just pull them down to your knees.”

She said, “I think I will be much braver if you cane me than if it were mum doing it. I’m worried about going home and Mum can see if I have been crying, but I’m sure I will be OK. Please, give me one stroke at a time. Start with light strokes and I will tell you if it is too much. My pussy is jumping like anything as I think about you caning me and even more if I think of you caning my bare bum. I hope I can get through to at least twelve strokes.”

This change in her attitude to caning was an enormous surprise to me. I knew nothing of Sophie’s fantasies until this day. It couldn’t have been good for Sophie to have had them in her mind for so long and not been able to put them into practice.

“Give it five minutes,” I said. “Let’s sit here in absolute silence and listen carefully.”

Five minutes went by. I put the folded towels on the trunk.

“Shorts and panties down,” I ordered. “Lie on the trunk.”

Sophie did not hesitate. I could see her inner lips were moist already. She was telling the truth about her state of arousal.

Sophie was shaking a bit, so I rested the cane on her bottom and said, “I’m your friend. I won’t hurt you more than you can handle and I will take you to places you have never been before. Please be calm.”

Taking hold of her wrist, I took her pulse. It was over one hundred, so I said, “I won’t cane you until your pulse slows. Think of something nice, or...