The view from my office window isn't great. A grey street, with mostly grey buildings on it. Not much of interest. But I had been staring out at it for a full half hour when my friend Jenny tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped, and she gave a little laugh. 'You were miles away.' She was right, I had been back in the garage/gym/dungeon below my flat. I was remembering the first time I landed a size 12 slipper on Jeff's well proportioned backside.
That had been two weeks ago, not long after Jeff had become my landlord. Amongst other things. The first week after the revelation of the contents of the cabinet had been a riot of spankings, beltings, slipperings, canings, paddlings and floggings; I must have tried out very single one of the marvellous toys in there. And sex. Lots and lots of sex. Fantastic sex. We'd had a few nights off over the two weeks, but last night's session with a short leather spanker was still fresh in my mind. And my bottom. I had chosen to wear a tightly fitted pencil skirt to work today, partly because the heavy fabric moving against my backside kept the feeling going as long as possible. It was a feeling I loved, and craved. It had taken a bit of experimentation to find the best outfit for the purpose, but now I had. I wriggled in my seat every so often, just to feel that delightful ache.
But now I turned to my best friend in the office and gave her a beaming smile. She laughed again. 'Nice to see you so happy, kid,' she said. 'Drink? It's Friday. We haven't put the world to rights for a while.'
'That would be great, Jenny. Let me finish up here. I'll see you in the usual place in half an hour.'
The pub was crowded and noisy. I spotted Jenny at a table in the corner with a bottle of wine and two glasses. One glass was half full. I filled the other glass, sat down with a sigh, and a slight wince. Jenny was looking at me carefully.
'Right. You need to tell me what's going on. You're happier than I've seen you for ages, and I've been watching the way you're walking around. If I didn't know better I'd say you've just had six of the best from old Miss Hunter.'
I smiled at the memory. Jenny and I had been the bad girls of the class, and Miss Hunter, the deputy head, in charge of the girls' discipline, had bent one or both of us across her desk for a caning most weeks. Mr Monaghan had ruled over the boys with his fearful slipper; I had seen the star of the rugby team reduced to tears by just a few swats of the tattered old plimsoll he used, a demonstration which had come in useful when I'd had the opportunity to use the slipper on Jeff. There had been a competitive element between Jenny and me in our final term, with Jenny winning by one caning. Miss Hunter had been a large woman with a powerful right arm. Jenny and I sat quietly for a moment, lost in our own memories of these happy, carefree days.
I downed the glass of wine in my hand, poured another, and looked seriously at my friend. 'Ok. But if I tell you, you can't tell anyone else. It will be our secret, just like our sordid past with Miss Hunter.'
Jenny was staring at me intently. 'I knew it.' She sketched a cross over her left breast, presumably where her heart was assumed to reside. 'I will not tell a soul. I promise on Olly Murs' life.' Jenny was a big fan.
I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure how Jeff would feel about me spilling the beans, but I just had to share the experience with someone, and I knew I could rely on Jenny not to spread it around.
'Well,' I began. 'It started when the Gellatlys sold the house to this young guy, Jeff..'
When I'd finished, Jenny was open mouthed, wine untouched in front of her. 'No wonder you're walking about like you've just been caned. You have. And spanked, and belted, and slippered.' She squirmed in her seat as she recounted the list. She was clearly excited about the thought.
'And don't forget paddled and flogged.' I poured a fresh glass of wine. 'And, the fantastic sex afterwards.'
Jenny sat back in her seat. 'I still remember the warm feeling I used to get after Miss Hunter had given me six of the best. You're a lucky cow.' She sat up straight, looked me in the eye. 'Show me. Show me the cabinet, the gym, everything. You have to, now you've told me.' Her eyes were glittering. I had the feeling Jenny wanted more than just to see the contents of the cabinet.
'Perhaps I could, but not tonight. Jeff's away tomorrow, until Sunday, visiting his parents. Come round about tea time. We'll have a bite to eat, and I'll give you the guided tour.'
Back in the flat, I decided to use the gym for its intended use, and started to get changed into my gear. As I was getting undressed, however, the memory of these canings from Miss Hunter swam into my mind, They had been the start, and the memory was still strong. My hands crept down between my legs and I lay back on the bed. The gym would have to wait.
When I got downstairs Jeff was working hard at one of the weights machines. The muscles in his forearms and biceps strained in a most attractive way. I padded over, playfully squeezed one bicep. 'Looking good.' I said, and climbed on to one of the cross trainers. I'd been pounding away for about five minutes, just starting to build up a sweat, lost in my thoughts, when I pulled up short as my bottom exploded in pain. My hands flew to my backside, kneading the soreness through the lycra. Jeff held up a cane - one of the thin, whippy ones - and smiled lasciviously. 'I do apologise,' he said, not meaning a single word. 'But I couldn't take any more of watching that beautiful ass gyrate in front of me.'
I descended daintily from the cross trainer. 'Well, as you put it like that, kind sir,' I said, and crossed over to the old table. I looked over my shoulder as I bent over the polished surface. How could he have known what had been in my thoughts as I had worked out? Sometimes there seemed to be a real bond between us.
Jeff needed no further encouragement. Two quick steps and the cane swooped down to lay a path of fire across my rear end. I whimpered, more in pleasure than pain. The next swish of the cane was harder; it landed with a Whack! on the same place as the first. I sucked in a lungful of air, to expel it with the next swoosh and Whack!, which made me jerk back, almost to my feet. The pain was intense, even through the lycra. My knuckles were white as I gripped the end of the table, tensed for the next blow. I felt a light tap on my burning backside, then Swoosh/Crack!, harder than ever. I cried out, and my hips bucked against the table. Two more swoosh/cracks in quick succession didn't allow me to draw breath, and then the loudest Swoosh! and hardest Crack! of the thin rattan full across both cheeks and I jerked upright, hands clasped to my burning backside.
'Aah! Aah! Ooh!' I gasped, hopping from foot to foot. 'That was worse than Miss Hunter when she was really angry.'
Jeff paused in the act of taking off his gym shorts. 'Interesting. You'll need to tell me all about her. Later.'
I had been trying, as gently as possible to slide my lycra leggings over my caned backside. Jeff's need was clearly greater than mine; he wrenched them down and pushed me forward again, across the polished wood. I moaned in pleasure as he slid his full hardness into me. His groin slapped against my striped backside in a pain/pleasure conflagration, again and again. I could sense his orgasm building, and let my own loose. I cried out, arched my back and pushed my bottom hard against his hips. We came together in a long, delicious rush.
After the caning we'd shared a bottle of wine at Jeff's, and I'd told him all about my life at St Mary's, about Miss Hunter's strong right arm and about my competition with Jenny.
'You sound like a pair of proper terrors,' said Jeff. 'I would have loved to see both of you getting six of the best though.' A lascivious grin. 'And I'd have loved to see you in your school uniforms. I'll bet you looked so sexy.' What is it about men and school uniforms? Wine finished, we went our separate ways, after a lovely, sensuous kiss. I got the feeling Jeff would have liked us to stay together, but I didn't feel ready for that just yet. It would have sounded bizarre to anyone else; despite our active sex life our sleeping arrangements remained separate, and chaste. It was almost as if the spanking and sex wasn't part of our normal, day to day lives.
I woke up late the next morning, face down on the bed; my usual sleeping position after my backside had been punished. I checked in the mirror while the kettle boiled for coffee. I could see horizontal stripes across the centre of both cheeks. I touched them. Still tender. Jeff was seriously good at this. The smarting feeling felt good as I slipped between the sheets with my morning coffee. So good that I just had to take some time to put out another smouldering fire, this one deep inside. When I had finished my coffee was cold.
I carried out some tidying and cleaning of the flat, which took longer than I had planned. Perhaps because it was the first time I'd done it since Jeff arrived. There always seemed to be something better to do. While I was cleaning my desk I saw Jenny's car pull into the drive. Before Jeff had left! Damn! I'd wanted Jenny's visit to be something for myself for a change. Jenny looked good getting out of her car. Taller than me and naturally slender, she had a gorgeous, heart-shaped bottom. Then Jeff was outside too, talking to her. I groaned, and made for the stairs. Jeff turned to me when I emerged. 'So this is the Jenny you were telling me about!' His smile took in both of us. 'You two have a good time. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.' Was that a warning to me?
I hustled Jenny inside and up to the flat, pushing her past the exercise machines, and what she really wanted to see, the cabinet. 'You'll see all you want later. When Jeff's gone,' I told her.
'He's really nice,' said Jenny, going to the window. 'Doesn't look the sort to tan your backside. There he goes, down the driveway to see his mum. Can we go look now, please?'
I made her sit down and poured her some wine. I told her about last night's caning, how it happened just as I was thinking about our schooldays. Jenny's eyes were wide. 'How many? On the bare?'
'Six or seven. I wasn't counting. And no, I had my gym stuff on. Lycra. Thin lycra,' I said, with a smile. 'Might as well have been nothing on at all.'
That was too much for Jenny, and she jumped up and ran for the stairs. I followed at a more sedate pace. When I got there she had the cabinet doors open. 'Wow,' she said. 'You weren't kidding, were you?' She lifted down the slipper, thwacked it against her hand. 'And you've had this? Bet it hurt.' She lifted down a cane. 'This is more like it.' She looked round the room, saw the table, handed me the cane. 'Six of the best?' she said, walked over to the table and bent over it, hands grasping the far edge. I smiled, followed her across the room. Jenny was wearing dark blue denims that looked new. 'Not with these on,' I said. 'You won't feel a thing.'
She straightened, looked at the cane, smiled, and undid her belt buckle. I waited until the jeans were fully off, and motioned to the table. She turned and gripped the far edge of the polished surface. She was wearing thin black panties that looked like silk. They stretched alluringly over her rounded bottom. It had filled out some in the 10 years since I'd last seen her bending over for a caning, but looked superb. The silk was a poor choice though; no protection whatsoever against what was coming her way.
I tapped her rear with the cane three times, and range and angle just right, and brought the cane down full against the smooth silk. Swoosh/Crack! Jenny yelled and jumped to her feet, hands flying to her backside.
'Now, that would have meant that stroke didn't count, in the good old days,' I said. 'Are we following the same rules?'
Jenny stopped rubbing her bottom and looked levelly at me. 'I'm game if you are,' she said. I motioned at the table again, and she assumed the position.
'Very well,' I said. I used the words Miss Hunter had used so long ago. 'Jenny, your punishment will begin now.'
I raised the cane high and brought it down with a loud Crack! across her backside. Jenny cried out, and arched her back, but she stayed down. I let her have three hard strokes in quick succession. Crack! Crack! Crack! echoed round the room. 'Only two more, but they're going to be hard ones,'I said. 'They're going to hurt.' I was enjoying the sight of Jenny's silk-clad behind squirming with pain. She hadn't cried out at the last three strokes though. I would have to do better.
I drew the cane back as fully as I could, sliced it through the air. The Swoosh! and Crack! were loud but nothing compared to Jenny's reaction. 'Aah! Oooow!' Most satisfying. I tapped the cane against the straining silk for the last stroke, drew back and let rip, using all my strength to whip the thin rattan full across both cheeks. Swoosh/Crack! Jenny leapt up and danced from foot to foot, hands trying vainly to quell the fire that the cane had started there.
'Let's have a look,' I said, and gently teased down the black silk. Her bottom was crisscrossed with red, angry looking weals. 'Ooh, that must hurt,' I murmured, and caressed the punished cheeks with my hand. The skin was burning. Jenny whimpered, and pressed her bottom back against my hand. My middle finger probed down, down, seeking the moistness of her vagina. She grunted and leaned forward on the table, arms supporting her as she spread her legs wide. I probed inside the lips of her clit, looking for that little bud. She moaned, and started to writhe against my hand, pressing her bottom harder and harder against my probing finger, which was now firmly inside the slippery moistness. The she cried out, and her knees buckled as she came.
The table was still warm from Jenny's body as I took my place. I had taken off everything but my thin cotton panties; my breasts flattened against the polished wood and my hips were tight against the edge of the table. I reached forward and clutched the far edge.
Jenny spent some time walking round behind me, presumably studying for the best angle of attack. I felt her hand follow the contours of my bottom. 'Lovely, quite lovely,' she said. 'And showing quite a few marks from last night's caning.' Then an explosion of pain as she smacked her open hand across my seat. I jumped to my feet, placed my hands to my backside. 'No fair!' I protested. 'I didn't do that to you.'
'I know, but this is all new to me. And your bottom looked so tempting. So inviting.' She stroked my backside again. 'But now, Laura, your punishment will begin.'
I took my position. Jenny rested the cane equally on both cheeks. I held my breath as it lifted, to let it out when the Whoosh/Crack! introduced a line of pain across my tender rear. I grunted in pain as the rattan whooshed down again to Crack! against my backside. The Whoosh/Crack! of a third, harder stroke made me cry out. Jenny was finding her rhythm, and two more hard strokes full against the thin cotton stretched tight over my backside nearly made me jump to my feet. 'Very good Laura,' said Jenny. 'Just the last one to go. But be warned, this will be a hard one.' The cane cut through the air so fast that the white hot pain registered at the same time as I heard the Whoosh and Crack! That was too much, and I was on my feet, hips gyrating wildly as I tried in vain to sooth the fire.
Jenny reached out a hand, placed it on my burning backside, moved close, until we were facing each other. Her other hand reached behind me, covered my other smarting cheek, pulled me towards her. I raised my hands to her face, lifted my lips to hers, and we kissed for a long time, our hips grinding together. I reached behind me, took one of her hands and led her upstairs.
The coolness of my bedsheet was bliss to my striped, smarting backside, but it was as nothing compared to the feeling of Jenny's flickering tongue in my clit. Her hands reached under me and she lifted my bottom higher, tilting it for maximum penetration. I bucked and moaned in ecstasy as my old friend, and new lover, pushed me over the edge into a shuddering orgasm.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/spanking/the-tenant-part-five-laura.aspx">The Tenant (Part Five - Laura)</a>