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.