I saw the cane lying on the table as soon as I opened the door to the gym. Yesterday's session with the tawse must have just whetted her appetite. I felt a thrill of anticipation as I flexed the cane in my hands. If she wanted a good caning she was going to have one.
I heard the door to Laura's flat opening, and when I saw what she was wearing I reassessed her punishment. A short, flared skirt that showed off her smoothly muscled legs to advantage, and a tight t-shirt that emphasised the slim waist and the swell of her hips. I just knew that her perfect, rounded rear wouldn't be covered by the skimpy material of her skirt as she bent over. I decided it had to be an over the knee spanking, starting with my hand.
I gave her the expected speech. "Once again I come in here to find you've been taking things out of the cabinet and leaving them out. When I saw this cane lying on the table, the day after you received a good belting for the very same thing, I could only reach one conclusion: you want me to cane you. That a fair conclusion?"
She clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. She had her hair up in a ponytail, to complete the naughty schoolgirl look. I sat on the end of the couch.
"Well, you'll get your wish. But not quite yet. First, I'm going to warm you up with a spanking."
With a smile, she walked over and lowered herself over my lap. I was acutely aware of the muscles of her firm body as she settled herself. Her skirt rode up as she leaned forward, exposing the thinnest of white cotton panties stretched tight over her rounded cheeks. I let my hand linger there a little, enjoying the feel of her and her slight tremor of anticipation as she waited for the spanking to begin. Faint red marks showed on either side of the white cotton, a reminder of last night. She must still be feeling the effects.
I raised my hand, brought it down across both cheeks, just enough to sting a little. A slight pause to enjoy the sight of the redness of her cheeks darkening, then I started in earnest. I put more force behind the next smack, which sounded crisp and loud in the stillness. Then three sharp, hard blows - Smack! Smack! Smack! - and she was kicking her legs, starting to squirm on my lap. She must have been aware of my erection, which was already straining inside my jeans. I made the next two blows extra hard. The first smack had her arching her back, ponytail bobbing; at the next smack, the hardest of all, she leapt to her feet, hands clamped to her smarting backside.
This was progressing just as I'd hoped. Now for the next surprise."I haven't finished with you yet," I said. "Fetch the slipper."
Laura's eyes were wide. "Now? Before the cane?"
I didn't answer, just folded my arms. She practically ran over to the cabinet, lifted the size twelve slipper down and carried it almost reverently to me. Before I knew it, she had draped herself across my lap again. I'd never known anyone quite so keen to receive a spanking with my leather slipper. I hefted the familiar weight in my hand, enjoying the feel of it. It was a gift from someone I'd been close to a few years ago, which she had felt on her backside countless times, starting when she was at school, when her mother would tan her ass with it regularly. The sole was polished, smooth, and wide. It made a satisfying sound when it made contact, and stung like nothing else. Receiving it over the knee was a good introduction; if things went well today I'd introduce her to the full force of it later.
I felt myself growing harder as I rested the leather sole of the slipper across her rounded backside. I raised it and almost let it fall with its own weight. The polished leather thudded against the thin cotton. Laura's legs straightened as she took in a gulp of air. I put a little force behind the next blow, which landed with a resounding smack. Her backside juddered, and I could see the skin reddening through the cotton. Laura cried out, head up, back arched, as the third smack echoed 'round the room. I began a serious, rhythmic series of hard, sharp blows, to alternate cheeks, with the occasional solid thwack across the tight cotton of her seat, the big sole covering her ass completely. After a dozen powerful smacks of the leather against her backside she was squirming on my lap, legs kicking wildly, crying out with every blow. I judged she was about there, and drew my arm back for a last, heavy smack, heavier than the rest, which had her on her feet, hips gyrating as she tried to comfort her smarting bottom.
I enjoyed the spectacle for a few seconds, then ordered her to drop her panties. I think she expected a bare bottomed slippering, but I guided her to the couch, gently pushed her back so she was lying flat, legs danging over the edge. She winced as her bruised backside came into contact with the cool leather. I knelt between her legs and lowered my head. My lips found the lips of her moist vagina, and my tongue began to explore, darting inside the swollen lips. She was so aroused from the slippering that she immediately started moaning, held my head down with both hands, and squirmed with ecstasy. She raised her hips and cried out as her orgasm ripped through her. I sat back, enjoying the picture before me as her body trembled in the aftershock.
Then, quicker than thought, her eyes snapped open and she was off the couch, tugging at my belt buckle. Jeans and trunks discarded, she pushed me on my back on the couch, using my erect cock to pull me to the centre. In an instant she was straddling me and, with a deep, shuddering sigh, lowered herself on to my rigid cock. I slid fully into her moistness and she rose again, holding the tip of my cock in her, then fell gently, slowly, taking her time, fully in control.