"I didn't want it to happen like that"

My words, a couple of hours after it had happened. Talking with my nearest and dearest over a mug of tea, in the kitchen, while he was chopping onions to make a soup. Mundane stuff but it's how things happen. Two hours earlier I'd been caned, in our bedroom, lying on the bed with my bottom bolstered upwards by two memory foam pillows folded over. All pretty normal stuff you might think, and let's face it Ronnie's into canes and not above provoking her husband when she sees an opportunity, or just plain getting spanked anyway for whatever reason.

But the thing is, I'd been within a cat's whisker of orgasming during my caning, actually on the very edge. The slightest touch from P, or my own fingers, down there and I'd have been hitting the ceiling. Maybe even a few more words, strict ones needless to say, would have sent me there. I've never been at that point before under the cane. P must have sensed how close I was and he increased the ferocity to nip it in the bud so to speak. It worked, the strokes became very harsh and I was 'neutralised'. A very sore bottom, orgasm on hold, he could have revived me, just a few minutes to calm down then his hand, would have set me off. I didn't get either, just told off for being a naughty girl and he hoped I'd learnt my lesson.

He left the bedroom, I had some jobs to do including making up the spare room because our son and daughter in law were staying over later. Now I haven't even mentioned the reason for the caning but I can tell you it was nothing serious, although my husband used the type of language that, had anyone been eavesdropping, would have given the impression that it was. I'm not going into it because the big thing to come out of it for me was the nearly-orgasm. I've wanted that to happen lots of times, I mean I can be there before or after but never 'during'.

I told P about it in the kitchen, I asked him if he knew how close I'd been.

"Of course I did," he said. "That's why I gave you something to take your mind off it, can't have my wife coming over the pillows when she's getting her bum caned." 

"Bastard," I called him. He was smiling.

"Would you have wanted it to happen?" He asked. "We'd have time to do it again before the kids arrive, you know, like re-run the movie but with a different ending." P was amused.

"I was so close, so really close, I don't know what I wanted, I suppose I won't until it happens one day and then I'll know...if it does," I added for good measure.

He said he'd been very tempted to take me then and there, he'd observed my well striped bottom increasing its thrusts to meet his cane and he'd heard the lust in my cries but he made his decision and exercised control. I said I was appreciative, I wouldn't have wanted it to happen like that. Then almost in the same breath told him I wouldn't mind it happening now though. The fucking not the caning. He knew I was horny.

Half an hour later after he'd finished his prep he took me upstairs and put me out of my misery, had me kneel doggy-style on the bed, memories of the caning flooding back, knickers down, I was soaking pushed myself hard onto his bloated cock letting out a little whimper as my still sore bottom hit his muscled thighs. P must have been as horny as me judging from the amount of yum he spurted into me and we collapsed onto the bed. We lay there a while enjoying the afterglow then P said, "So what's it to be next time then?"

I told him I'd leave it to his discretion, then I felt wet dripping down my inner thighs and told him to roll over and put his hand down there to catch some of the mess, I'd have to change the duvet otherwise. He said leave it, it would dry. Men don't understand that sort of thing.

Anyway I think I'd very much like to come during a caning. I guess it's not the sort of thing you can guarantee, I shall certainly report it if and when:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

Which is the most exhausting?

To be thoroughly spanked or to give a thorough spanking?

I don't know the answer because I've never given a thorough spanking but my husband asked me on Saturday night as we sat down, just the two of us, to eat a meal and I commented that I felt knackered and feigned my head flopping down towards a bowl of steaming hot moules mariniere. I'd already done the Ouch! bit as I sat on one of our padded dining chairs, it was a genuine ouch too by the way, and now I was letting him know he'd exhausted me, really exhausted, but in a happy way like after having marathon sex. But I hadn't had that, I'd been spanked.

"Ah some of us have more stamina," he said jokingly, "it's tiring for a spanker too you know, but we rise above it."

I told him he hadn't appeared to be tired at all when he'd been laying cane strokes across my bare bottom upstairs in the bedroom. He said I hadn't either judging from the way I'd been wiggling and vocalising. I smiled and said it was delayed action, just setting in, possibly because there'd been no sex; he'd spanked it all out of me which was exactly what he'd promised to do earlier in the day as we'd set out on a Christmas shopping trip. I'd been a bit suggestive about something and he'd told me I was one over horny woman and should concentrate on what we had to do and if I kept it up he'd spank it out of me. Then he changed his mind and said he'd drain it out of me during the day and then, later, whatever was left he'd spank out of me. I thought knowing me, not much chance of that, and said something like you and whose army. This was all very amiable you understand and totally off the cuff. Getting ready to go out I kept making lewdish suggestions and when he told me I'd been warned, I told him as a woman I could multi task, I could be rude and concentrate on the shopping.

Anyway to cut it short he masturbated me in the car on the A5, he made me undo my belt and jeans and did it while he was driving, I told him he couldn't it was dangerous and he laughed and said men could multi task too and to shut up and wiggle up the seat a bit so that he could get his hand into my knickers and even as he was telling me I  started to come, not full blown but enough to make me gasp. We got a fair bit of shopping done and P went back to the car mid way through the session to deposit bags to free himself up to carry more bags. When we'd done and were walking back to the car park he put all his bags into one hand and fondled my bum with the other, telling me he was going to masturbate me again in the car. I told him not to be so stupid it was really busy by that time and there were loads of people about and we'd be seen (note slut me, my objection was about being seen, not the outrage behaviour). Anyway the threat had raised my excitement even as we walked and sure enough he did it only this time he undid me as he had both hands free and I sat there trying to keep still and look composed and pretend I was in conversation with him as people passed by. I cried out a little as I came and urged him to start the car and get going, I was flushed and had a stupid false smile on my face and was still pretending to be talking naturally. I wouldn't make a good actress.

So back home after a cup of tea and P making a few preparations for our later meal, he asked me if I still had any lewdness left in me. I coyly said well maybe just a bit but I thought he'd pretty much drained me, then I asked him rather less coyly why not have a feel and judge for himself. He told me he would after he'd fetched our leatherthorn from upstairs and, if he found me in an excited condition he'd spank it out of me. He said it shouldn't take too long because after a couple of orgasms it would hurt faster and I'd soon lose any urges. Well that's what he thought or at least that's what he said. Needless to say such talk fired me up and when he came back with the paddle I knew my knickers were wet already. I got spanked, by paddle and by hand, over about fifteen minutes and then after a little pause when I'd genuinely lost the urge, he started stroking my backside and telling me how cute it looked in that shade of red and it just got me going again.

"Oh dear," said my husband and he helped me up off his lap. "Pull your pants up you're coming with me." And he marched me upstairs and caned me and it hurt like hell on top of the spanking and after squealing and kicking my legs and making a fuss I eventually went still like a rag doll and he stopped and said good, it looks as if that's been effective, then he said he had to put the oven on and he left me there and went downstairs. I joined him in the kitchen ten minutes later and put my hand on his bum and told him that had hurt but I was stroking him even as I said it. "Apparently not enough," he said, "judging from your actions." He finished what he was doing and then took me back upstairs, I was saying no please P, I've had enough all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom but he was determined. He caned me again, christ my bottom hadn't been so ravaged for ages, I'd truly lost all sexual direction and was on the verge of crying and begging him to stop towards the end. He stopped without me having to beg and told me he trusted that had 'neutralised' me, his word not mine.

Well that was the background and that's how I got tired. Really exhausted. And more than a little sore. Later in the evening sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine P asked me how my bum was, I told him it still hurt and I leaned over and pecked his cheek. He said he bet as he hadn't heard any more suggestive thought from me so he must have done a good job. I whispered that the thoughts had just started coming back but I wasn't going to say anything in case he caned me again. Hmm, he said, no he wouldn't cane me again he was satisfied that his cane had done its work earlier. So I put my hand on his crotch and felt his cock stir. We had an early night.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

I should add for the record, we had discussed this kind of scenario a few times, ie me getting drained and spanked with no sexual gratifying crescendo, it was eyes wide open so don't go feeling sorry for me:) 

A very harsh first day

Alison really thought her first day had gone well, after all that crushing on the tube to get in early and then skipping lunch to overtake her workload and then, at 5.30pm she was called into Mr Lowther's office and told she'd got all her figures wrong for the day and it would throw all the other comptometer operators out and cause them lots of extra work.

Mr Lowther told her straight she could either leave on the spot or be punished and do her best to make up. Alison chose to be punished and left Mr Lowther's office with a sore bottom and tears in her eyes. It was a very harsh first day but at least she still had her job.

What would you have done - left or taken the caning?

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Caned in boy shorts

I got caned last Saturday and it was stingy as hell and the boy shorts I was wearing seemed to keep the heat in for ages especially as I was made to cycle after it.

I will explain, you see since our son has vacated his bedroom, whilst still kept available for him, I've moved our exerciser into it because there's a lot of space in there and it's very light which is nice, I can also see into the street through the louvres without being seen so I can keep one eye on the neighbourhood one on a tv screen, music blasting and stay fit all at the same time. I have jogging sports wear which I sometimes put on, I don't know why really it just kind of makes me work harder, other times I just wear beach shorts or knickers especially when it's hot. On Saturday morning I had on a pair of my husband's boy pants, they're MandS some kind of micro fibre really light and stretchy, I bought a pack of them as a stocking filler for him because I thought they'd make his cock bulge nicely, which they do, but he's hardly ever worn them I don't know why. Anyway they look a bit like lycra that cyclists wear, I've snapped myself in them so you can see what I mean though I think they make my bum look huge:)

Now, during my exercise session my husband came home, I didn't hear him because of the music but I saw the car was back, I carried on sweating. After a few minutes there was a great Thump! from behind me, loud enough for me to hear over the music and I stopped pedalling to see what it was, a large hardback book had fallen onto the floor and my husband must have heard it from downstairs because he came bounding upstairs to see what it was. He came into the room, I'd already resumed pedalling, he asked me what had happened but I couldn't hear him for the music. He gesticulated, I just pointed behind me, he would put two and two together it wasn't hard. But he didn't, instead he switched my music off and told me to answer him when he was speaking to me, he'd been worried I might have hurt myself. Well that was touching but unlikely, I told him, and could I please have my music back. I was still pedalling, I think that probably pissed him a bit.

Anyway he saw I was wearing his underwear, it's a signal between us although I don't do it much these days. He told me the least I could do was stop pedalling, he wouldn't bother rushing up next time he heard an almighty bump, then he asked me why I'd got his underwear on and I said because I was riding and it was available. I was a bit put out that my session had been disrupted, once I start I like to keep up momentum. "Well it won't be available if I take it off you and give you a good spanking you ungrateful bitch!" Oh god was being good to me, I thought, window of opportunity, get bitchier, take the spanking, exercise any old time but get spankings whenever you can! So I said a few things about him coming back early, wouldn't have known if he hadn't, didn't need watching over, wasn't a child etc etc., I kept it light but a bit hoity because I know that irritates him and sure enough he left the room returning moments later with his OTK cane.

He came and fetched me off the machine and over to the bed, put me across his knee, pulled my borrowed underwear down and caned me about thirty or more times, I hadn't been caned over our son's bed before, it's very near the floor and my knees were rubbing against the carpet as I writhed and wriggled. It hurt and I made a noise and when he let me up I was rubbing my bottom and pouting. He told me to pull the pants back up, they suited me, and to finish off my exercise with a sore bottom and not to be so ungrateful in future when someone showed concern for me. I finished it after he left the room, my bottom was hot and the saddle was rubbing between my legs, it was as much as I could do to keep my concentration on the job at hand:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx 

Smile of the Day

Not around for a few days. Have scheduled a post for Friday.

Ronnie

xx

Let me know if picture is yours.

I should have bent you over that armchair

I'm a bit behind sharing with you our little London trip which was a few weeks ago. Well I wrote it but looked at it and decided it was too meandering even by my sometimes standards so I cut it down and here it is and even now it seems a bit long but there is a bit of spanking in it though not as much as I could have handled. Sigh. I marked the spanking bits in red so you can skip the mush if you like, good aren't I:)

It wasn't a business trip, just pleasure, we had some tickets to the Tate which one of our son's friends passed on free, there were a couple of interesting eateries we'd read about, I wanted to have lunch at Jamie's near St Paul's, do a bit of shopping, I even suggested to P we took a look round the Houses of Parliament which he didn't fancy but I've always wanted to do. We were going to stay in London originally but last minute decided to book into a country place a short train ride from Piccadilly; it was a large manor house with restaurant, bars, reception, bedrooms etc and 4 other smaller lodges in the grounds providing additional accommodation.

The country place was seriously nice, I won't name it but it's set in grounds running alongside the River Thames and with its own cricket pitch, outdoor swimming, boats, cycles and putting green, in fact we had a quick game after brunch in their river view restaurant and it was fun and I lost, on a wager too, and had to buy a round of drinks later. The weather was great on the Friday but torrentially wet the following day, ah well that's the UK. We got the train into London early afternoon, did the Tate, or as much as we wanted to, then I said let's walk to Jamie's and have a drink there, it's supposed to have wonderful views, well it seemed half London must have known about them because they had  a queue a mile long! We didn't wait, P doesn't like queues, so instead we sat in a small bar near St Paul's and had a soft drink while we decided where to eat. It was either Japanese near Westminster or steak at Hawksmoor near Regent Street, we decided on steak at the Hawksmoor (my picture didn't take so this is off Google)

because it isn't ordinary steak (apparently), it's the best you can get (really), aged 51 days and all that sort of palaver, anyway P wanted to try it and I was happy because they had plenty of fresh fish on offer and reputedly did nice cocktails. It was actually scrummy with good but relaxed service, overpriced of course (P's opinion but he always says that:)) and when we left we enjoyed meandering with the rest of the tourists, had a couple of drinks then headed back for the train, it was late but still warm.

The hotel bar was closed when we got back, it was after midnight so we retired for the night, I must have been tired as I didn't even suggest a bit of hanky panky and was out like a light when my head touched the pillow.

(sex) Saturday morning I woke early, for a minute I forgot where I was. P mumbled something about breakfast and who wanted the shower first. Nooooo.. nobody yet, I said and snuggled closer, hand straying to see if he had a morning bulge, if he didn't I thought I would arrange one.  Naughty girl, he said and put his hand on my leg and told me what he'd like to do is give me a good spanking but it was too noisy we had people in the room next door.  He said he should have done it last night, I'd certainly deserved it. Really P? He can be so enigmatic at times, but he had his hand on my thigh as he said it and I could feel a bulge developing in his pants which I liked so I played along, I didn't even protest and ask him what I'd allegedly done. Instead said I knew I'd deserved a spanking and that I'd deserved it on purpose, knowing he wouldn't be able to do it.

I said it with challenge in my voice. It didn't ruffle him at all, he continued at his own pace, in his own reassuring tone but with his hand working its way teasingly closer to where I was willing it to be. 

"Those trousers you wore last night were far too tight......pause...... I didn't realise it until we were in the bar after we'd eaten and I saw a couple of guys looking our way and then realised who they were looking at."

"Really P, which ones were they, were they the two nice looking ones who smiled at me when I had to wiggle my bum to get past them?" I know how to play these games.

"I should have bent you over that armchair the minute we got back in, were it not for the other guests, and taught you a lesson."

"What lesson would that have been, P?" His hand was between my legs now making my panties dampen.

"A lesson about wearing overly tight trousers to flaunt yourself to men, a lesson that would have made your bottom so sore and swollen you wouldn't be able to get back into such tight trousers."

"Oh gosh P, how hard would you have spanked me to make that happen?" I asked.

"Hard enough to guarantee you wouldn't........." I didn't hear any more because his head went under the duvet and his mouth and tongue took over from his fingers and it only took a few seconds to make me cum like cumming was going out of business. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth and my ears popped with the strain of trying to scream and stifle at the same time.

Then P went for a shower, I didn't get to finish what I'd planned for his bulge, never mind he'd be that much keener later.

Saturday was a full day but not so lucky weather-wise. After breakfast I went to reception to let them know we had no shower gel left in the bathroom. The receptionist took our room number then said she was due to call anyway to offer us a room in the main building if we wanted, it would save us walking to and fro in the rain, she'd done the same for the other guests staying in our lodge and they'd agreed, so we were the only two left. She said the rooms were bigger too. I almost said yes like an idiot, then said 'Oh no it's fine and the view over the river is lovely.'  

Woohoo! I didn't mention it to P.

The rest of the day was back into London, a long overdue trip around our Houses of Parliament which we had tickets for and P managed to sweet-talk us an earlier slot because it was absolutely teeming down, then dodging between showers we were going to do the London Eye but we wouldn't have seen much, it would have been like a fog with the rain, lunch, shopping and more shopping because shops are dry and London that day was wet although it cheered up later. We tried to get tickets for a show but couldn't get the ones we wanted so decided to go back to the manor and have a nice dinner for two in the stately splendour of their dining room. P called them to make sure we could get a table, otherwise we'd have dined in London, he seemed pleased after he'd spoken with them. I asked if we were ok, he said 'Oh yes, very ok'.

(spanking) We had about an hour before our table booking when we got back, I took a shower, I thought about putting those tight RL jeans on again and maybe this time I really would get spanked. When I walked into the bedroom after my shower P was sitting on the bed, I had a towel wrapped round me and nothing else, he our 'bogey paddle' next to him on the bed. My eyes widened.

"Shower's free," I announced brightly, even though it was obvious, I tried not to look at the paddle.

"I have a little job to do first," said my husband. Firstly the matter of those those tight jeans you wore last night......and then, I didn't mention it earlier but when I spoke with reception earlier to book our table, I found out we'd been offered a room swap but you'd declined it without telling me." 

"So we didn't want to move into the big house, eh, staying over here all on our own, are we.."  As he was saying this he was pulling me towards him by my towel.  

"I forgot to tell you," I lied, "we're not really all alone in this lodge are we?" I said it in a girlish voice, my stomach was fluttering, my towel came off, a second later I was across my husband's lap my upper body on the bed, his right leg wrapping across the backs of mine and he started spanking me with his hand.

Then the paddle came into play, have I ever told you how ferocious Bogey's paddle is? Well I lied, it's better than ferocious. And a freshly showered bottom amplifies the effect.

My husband spanked me in the manner he'd suggested I needed to teach me a lesson about flaunting myself (I hadn't really been flaunting but my RL's are tight), with no-one else in the lodge and being a 3-4 minute walk from the main house I felt at liberty to express verbally just how effective the lesson was. I really hoped there were no gardeners around, I doubted it on a Saturday.

When he presumably thought I'd learned my lesson, he stopped. His leg didn't release though so I knew it wasn't over.

"So were you going to tell me you'd fixed it for us to be all on our own, or were you keeping it as  a surprise?"

"I was going to tell you later, honestly, probably over dinner." I said.

"I see. Well you should have told me earlier, I like to know what's going on, not kept in the dark." His restraining leg tightened further. "So a little further lesson about keeping your husband informed won't do you any harm at all."

SPANK...SPANK... SPANK ....  "And furthermore after I've finished with you..."...SPANK... SPANK... SPANK..."you're going to squeeze into those trousers again..."....SPLAT....SPLAT...SPLAT...SPLAT..."and wear them to dinner with a nice top..."...SMACK... SMACK...SMACK...."and if I catch you bending or twisting or trying to catch the eye of any gentlemen or waiters..."...SPANK... SPANK... SPANK..."I shall bring you back to our room and give you a sound caning. Is that clearly understood?"

Christ I could hardly get words out, he must have brought a cane with him although I hadn't seen it, I just said yes it was clear and I was sorry I'd been naughty and all that sort of stuff. He loosed his grip on me and I let myself slide off his lap, my face rested on his knee. I wondered. My backside was smouldering, I love giving blowjobs when it's like that but P took the decision out of my hands and went for a shower.

We had a lovely meal and I squiggled appropriately and made little noises when I moved about on my seat, all for my husband's benefit not other men, we got talking to some Scottish guests afterwards in the bar and they were good fun, they said they didn't give a monkeys about independence.

(more spanking) When we went back to our room in the lodge it was drizzling and we borrowed a hotel brolly, P had his spare hand on my bum all the way. He said he was going to spank me again for making him walk in the rain but he didn't do it, instead I gave him a blowjob which made him bellow and certainly took the wind out of his sails. In the morning I heard him get up and leave the room, I was too cosy to care why, then he returned and the duvet was pulled back and he stood there with a bloody cane in his hand, he must have been out to the car. He made me turn over onto my tummy, pulled my knickers down and gave me a dozen strokes which made me yelp, especially after last night's paddling, although they weren't really all that hard. He said he owed me for making him walk in the rain. Then he joined me on the bed and we fucked and it was nice and noisy and urgent

and when he came he really filled me and I was surprised after the mouthful I'd had before we went to bed. I told him so after as we lay there recovering, he said it must be the air and the good food. I thought it was more likely the tight jeans and the cane:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx    

Traditional vs Modern

Well which is best? I'm not taking a side or drawing any conclusion or trying to make a case either way. What got me thinking was the other day I was surfing and came across a couple of new blogs (spanking related of course) and just loved the style of writing and the subjects covered, they were fresh and punchy and observant and daring, romantic too and they clearly attracted like minded readers, I could tell from the comments and followers. The blog rolls linked to similar stuff, much of which I hadn't seen before.

I enjoyed them so much I thought right, must change my wallpaper, colour scheme, template etc....change my writing style too, shorter lines, shorter posts:)  But then I thought about it and decided no I wouldn't do any of those things (well I might do one day but not because of). Why? Because if I did, and if we all did, we'd all be the same and that wouldn't do at all. There's room for everyone and that's what keeps it interesting. Still, I was definitely impressed with what I saw so if you detect any subtle or, worse, unsubtle, changes in my online behaviour give me a quick slap (metaphorically that is) and restore me to my default style.

Having said all that I don't have a spanking to report. Sigh. So I'm reproducing a story I posted a few years back, it's set in a time gone by, in a large country household with domestic staff, lady of the house and of course master of the house, titled naturally. It's old fashioned stuff, but not any less erotic for that:-    


Lady Barclay stood in front of her husband's desk, it was huge as befitted a man of his station. Lord Barclay sat the other side, upright, stern, finished signing some papers before placing them in a drawer, desk top clear save the small black and white portrait of the two of them on their wedding day. He looked up at his wife, she was still in her jodhpurs after her morning ride, she was a handsome woman, make any man proud he'd often thought, but he would not have her usurping his authority or abusing the privileges her position as his wife afforded.

''Penelope,'' he said, a bad sign as Penny was his preference, ''I've called you to my study because I've heard reports that yesterday an incident occurred with one of the grooms, the new boy, Tobias I believe, and that you saw fit to intervene on my behalf and take certain disciplinary action. Would you care to elucidate?'' Lady Barclay shifted uneasily from foot to foot, dinner had passed uneventful last night, their guests had gone, she'd thought of the incident as private, she doubted if the boy Tobias would have raised the matter, perhaps then one of her friends had tittered innocently to her husband and he had seen fit to inform Lord Barclay. No matter for now, it was done and an honest answer was required. Lord Barclay's study was no place for untruths; she had learned before their marriage, in their courting period when she'd had her backside reddened more than once, that her husband to be was not a man to trifle with.

Lady Barclay summarised the incident, making sure everything she said was true but not recounting everything which had taken place, she had no idea how much her husband already knew. There had been an incident with the new boy, Mr Stevens had reported it to her and that he had refused discipline, she had decided the matter was serious and in her husband's absence to have the boy brought before her, confront him with dismissal or a summary flogging from her, the latter of which he had reluctantly accepted.

''I'd heard as much, Penelope, and it's as well you've told me candidly. But you know there are strict rules in this household, they are in place for the benefit of us all and I won't have you going off and flouting them. You know well enough that Stevens is permitted to administer spankings at certain levels, but other than that staff are referred to me unconditionally where corporal punishment is required.'' He spoke as he rose and turned away from his desk to the walnut cabinet in the corner of his study, where he kept a small selection of canes.''I'm going to thrash you for undermining my authority as master of this house,'' he removed a straight cane with a bound leather handle and closed the cabinet door,''and I hope it will make you think twice before taking matters into your own hands again.''

Lord Barclay turned from the cabinet and faced his wife.''You know the procedure, madam, across my desk if you will.'' Penelope felt her stomach somersault and her knees weaken as her husband approached. She lowered herself until the smooth polished edge of the desk nudged into the tops of her thighs and then stretched fully across, reaching the opposite edge with her fingers and pulling herself as far as she could. Her high waisted jodhpurs moulded to the womanly globes of her bottom, accentuating the fullness of her cheeks and separating them provocatively. Under different circumstances her husband could have been inclined to mount her but he had very different responsibilities to perform, no less intense but certainly more painful. For his wife at least.

She felt his hand rest briefly on the small of her back pressing her further against the wood and inlaid leather of the desk. ''Relax your legs, let your weight fall into the desk top,'' her husband ordered. She responded, knowing that as soon as he saw her thigh and buttock muscles release he would lay on the first stroke, she went to say something in mitigation of what she'd done but the dreadful swishing sound of the cane in flight told her she was too late. She gasped as the initial sting registered, the shock temporarily anaesthetising her from the pain, long enough for the second stroke to land wickedly close, followed by the deep burn overlapping from the first stroke, causing her to cry out from the shock of pain invading her flesh and fear of what was to come. Four more strokes followed in rapid succession and had her squirming against the solid desk, her knuckles white from her grip on the far edge, determined not to rise until told.

''Get up, madam, turn and face me.'' his voice was flat, he stood barely a pace away, cane resting across his hands.''Head up, let me see that pretty face.'' She looked him squarely in the face, her eyes were moist, hers legs quivering from the after shock of the beating, she desperately wanted to rub or to move around or both.

''Now, Penelope, have you omitted anything about the incident which happened yesterday, anything you may have forgotten or considered unimportant, hardly worth the telling?'' Oh God she felt weak, how could he possibly know? Did he know? Was he bluffing to test her? She couldn't imagine that any of her friends would have betrayed her knowingly, and surely the boy would not have complained about the lewd act she'd made him perform. ''Sir, everything I've told you was true I swear it.'' she said.

''That was not my question and you know it,'' Lord Barclay's tone indicated some impatience, ''my question invited you to make a clean breast of things. Is it not true that you had your friends in attendance when the incident was reported, and is it not true that you allowed them to witness your interrogation and subsequent punishment of the boy from the open door of the adjoining room?'' ''And is it not true, madam, that you humiliated the boy in addition to the thrashing you meted out, by probing his sexual experience making him answer questions totally unrelated to the matter at hand? In order to amuse, titillate and show off in front of your friends?'' His cane was tapping impatiently against his thigh, his temper was up, that she could see. But mercifully it seemed he was unaware of the act she'd had the boy carry out so exquisitely in his innocence and naivety.

''It is true, husband, but I beg you to see it not in the worst light, my thought was to act swiftly to uphold the discipline you have always so evenly maintained, it was a matter of expedience to remove my guests to the next room, their amusement or otherwise was of no concern to me. The questions I subjected the boy to were just to take him down a peg as he exhibited a most unseemly pride, even after his thrashing, almost challenging to my perception.''
''All the more reason then, madam, for you to leave such business to me. But from what I've heard the afternoon was more of an entertainment than you would have me know. I will not have my staff so abused. Nor will I have my wife conceal or withhold information from me. Lower your breeches Penelope, I believe you caned the boy twice, I shall cane you twice also and you shall receive your second caning on the bare, it will deepen both sting and humiliation and be a lasting lesson to you.''

Lady Barclay hadn't the stomach or conviction to further argue her case, she had erred, she should be grateful the full extent of her corruption was apparently not known. She unfastened and lowered her jodhpurs, turned and prostrated herself without commotion. She heard him move close behind her and then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of her satin knickers. ''These too, madam, when I say on the bare I mean it.'' She shuddered as they were pulled down roughly to her thighs, then the tail of her silk shirt flipped up over her waist causing a brief whisper of cool air. She sensed her husband stand aside, she whimpered instinctively anticipating what was to come and then the white hot streak of pain seared into her flesh this time atop the welts she'd already earned, and she cried out. The second stroke landed mid cry, it swiftness and severity shocking every sense she had and twisting her cry into a grotesque guttural scream which resonated with wild fluctuations through three further strokes when he paused, allowing his wife time to recover her senses and absorb the collective pain which was undoubtedly suffusing through every nerve in her writhing derriere. He relished for a brief moment the prospect of spearing that lush and sensuous part of his wife's anatomy, the ultimate mastery he mused briefly.

''Penelope, I trust you'll remember this the next time you're tempted to take matters inappropriately into your own hands for the spectacle and amusement of your friends.'' Lady Barclay was sobbing with great heaving breaths, her tears flowing freely, before she could muster a contrite response her husband delivered the final stroke of the cane, landing wickedly across the lower fleshiest parts of her cheeks. Lady Barclay's 'yes sir...' mutated into a piercing unintelligible scream as the pain from this harshest stroke further outraged her livid senses. Lord Barclay watched as the quivering bottom, now purple and red, recovered from the stroke, the flesh refilling the indent caused by his cane, his wife's scream subsided to heavy sobs and gulping breaths, he walked to the corner cabinet and replaced the cane shutting the door with a precise clip and then strode to the leather winged chair where he sat heavily, an action his wife was unlikely to be doing for some time.

Penelope had not looked up but she knew it was over, she lay sobbing, her face wet against the tears which had collected on the green leather inlay of the desk. ''When you're ready, madam, you may get up and restore your modesty, I shall order tea for us in the drawing room but first you will attend to me as my wife and we shall put behind us this unfortunate matter. Penelope heard the fly on her husband's twill trouser unzip and the leather chair creak as he adjusted position. She stood slowly, her bottom flesh was tight, it felt swollen and raging from the assault, she bent to retrieve her knickers and breeches, winced as she pulled the delicate satin into place and then spluttered into renewed sobbing as the unyielding fabric of her jodhpurs, now two sizes too small, encased her buttocks in their own heat after a painful struggle to re fit them. She stood a while. When she turned to her husband she was crying and sniffling spasmodically, her face flushed and shiny on one side from the pool of tears on the desk. Lord Barclay thought she looked magnificent, she had learned her lesson he was quite sure, and now she would demonstrate her contrition and acquiescence.

When Lady Barclay knelt at her husband's lap and released his manhood from the confines of the heavy material it lunged forward, the purple cock head glistening, drops of pearly pre cum rolling from its eye. Penelope stretched painfully forward and took it dutifully, submissively, perhaps even gratefully, between her lips whilst her husband tenderly wiped away the tears which trailed down her cheeks.

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

Behind High Walls II

Do you remember me posting these two pictures a couple of weeks ago? I'm sure you do.

Well there's an interesting story that goes with them.....

.....DEEP in the leafy country-side, behind its high protective walls, Balcombe Manor basks in the languor of a drowsy English summer afternoon. The sun is shining out of a clear blue sky and it would be too hot if it weren’t for the gentle breeze which is keeping the air pleasantly fresh. The four young women, Mrs Blackett’s pupils, are in the garden for their Tranquillity Period, in the rose garden beneath a magnificent Albertine rose from which pink petals now and then fall gently down.

‘You’ve some petals on your hat,’ Felicity tells Annabel. ‘But leave them; leave them for your husband. His rose adorned with rose petals; isn’t that poetic.’

Annabel smiles. All four young women, as usual, are wearing wide-brimmed hats against the sun and are in calf-length dresses of an elegant bygone age – the middle 1930s perhaps. Under those dresses each girl’s form is tightly held in that ultimate of feminine discipline, a tight-laced corset, a garment which is worn at all times at Balcombe Manor. Annabel’s smile hides a certain nervousness. Today, this afternoon, her husband is visiting her for the first time.

Annabel is excited yet apprehensive. She has been here a week and a week can be a long time, especially a young woman’s first week at Balcombe Manor. As is usually the case it has not been as easy adjustment. Modern girls are simply not taught to accept submission and discipline. In particular they have had no experience of being regularly caned on the bare bottom. So when a young woman in her early twenties is sent to Balcombe Manor there is an ingrained behavioural pattern to be broken.

It is always a shock for the new pupil but Mrs Blackett’s methods are tried and tested and she is also a strong, dominant personality. Mrs Blackett and Balcombe Manor are invariably successful in remoulding a modern young wife into traditional feminine ways, but the remoulding, especially at first, is painful.

‘Lucky you,’ smiles Felicity. ‘You are allowed a whole hour alone with him in your room, you know.’ She giggles, as do the other two, Susan and Rosalind. Annabel flushes slightly.

It will be marvellous to see Roger again, to be with him, but at the same time… Annabel wonders if she dare ask him to take her away – as she has told herself all the past week she will. She suspects that even if she dares it will be quite useless – and could even make matters worse. Mrs Blackett could very well ask Roger if Annabel had made such a plea, and it would be very difficult to lie to Mrs Blackett. And then… it would simply be more of that cane, from Mrs Blackett herself or from Gillman, the head servant.

That dreadful cane. Annabel has had it every day, scything mercilessly into her tender bare nates. Yesterday an eight-stroke session and a six-stroke one. 

Read the rest of part II here but you may want to go and read the first part here. Both on the Janus website.

Thanks has to go to Bob who found the stories for us.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

P's New Year's Resolution

I woke up New Years Day a bit earlier than I would have liked to. My husband's hand was resting on my pantied crotch, his middle finger idly rubbing my slit through the wispy silk.

"I made a quiet new year resolution last night," he said, "I had to do it rather privately, well just to myself at the time, because it wasn't suitable for airing in front of the company we were with, or any company at all really." 

"What are you going on about?" I mumbled sleepily, enjoying what my husband's hand was doing.

"And I didn't wish to alarm you anyway," he continued, "but I woke up this morning still thinking about it so I reckon it must be the right thing to do...."

"Yes P, go on, tell me then," I said, "and please don't stop doing that down there." I was awake now.

"I'm going to cane your bottom more often than I did in 2012, quite a lot more actually....as I like your attitude after you've received a caning."

I gulped and think I emitted something between a squeal and a dirty moan and my hips raised against my husband's hand, whose finger was now inside the gusset of my knickers sliding and rubbing and teasing in my growing wetness 

"I also browsed a few pics I'd got from previous spankings of you, on my phone, not enough actually, and made a second resolution this morning...

must take more pics. So I'll do that too."

So there we had it. Simple. My husband doesn't mince his words.

"Why? Do you think I'm getting naughtier?" I asked. The word naughty or any of its derivatives has some kind of effect on me when I'm aroused and this was no different, I reached across for his manhood but his left hand held my wrist as his right masturbated me.

"No, not really, just because I've decided to," said P, "but if you do happen to be naughtier I shall have to cane you even more and probably a lot har......."

And that was as far as he got because I pulled my hand from his grip to stifle my mouth and started wriggling like a worm on the end of a line as an orgasm suddenly overtook me. My husband turned as it happened and held my face into his shoulder as he worked his hand and fingers harder to squeeze the most exquisitely dirty seeming orgasm I'd had in ages from me.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Away for New Year

I'll be away by the time you read this. It's unexpected but a welcome opportunity, we wouldn't have been able to go if P's aunt hadn't asked his mom to visit her and stay over a couple of nights. Anyway his mom agreed, she doesn't live far away so P took her over there Sunday afternoon and we're going to let in the New Year in a hill top village at P's brother's pub restaurant. I'm quite looking forward to it actually, it'll be lively and different and usually, not always but usually, when we go and stop over anywhere I manage to get spanked. Sometimes by intent and sometimes not.

This isn't the same pub restaurant his brother had before, this one is nicer, he's refurbished it from a brewery fire sale and in the last six months he's really established the place as a firm favourite for both food and drink. There's been a cost to all the effort and upheaval unfortunately, his brother's marriage has broken down and his wife has moved out, I don't know if it can be fixed, it's really a pity because she's nice and popular and no one saw it coming, least of all his brother.

Anyway that's where we'll be.

Enjoy the fireworks this evening:)

Ronnie

xx

Nurse Cross Caned

Wouldn't like to be his nurse.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Pictures from Discipline Domestique.

Caned in Jodhpurs

You remember I ordered some new jodhpurs, they came, they fit snugly, I think they're making them a little tighter round the tummy than the last ones but they're good and I'm keeping them. I casually told my husband they'd arrived, he seemed nonplussed he was concentrating on something, from the look on his face he didn't know what I was talking about. Then twenty minutes later he told me I should get more use from my old ones before throwing money at new ones. Frivolous expenditure he called it. I didn't disagree in fact I was willing him to further remonstrate but he didn't; instead he just told me maybe I'd better wear my old ones when we got home. Then he asked me if our son would be in or out, I said out. Definitely wear them then, he said, as soon as we get in, and no knickers, he sounded stern. My legs squeezed together and my bottom shuffled on my swivel chair, I managed to contain my smile.

Two hours went very slowly I can tell you, then just after 5.30pm P got a call from a client and was on till nearly 6 o'clock, oh god more waiting, I knew my pants were damp when we finally left the building.

Back home I went to put some stuff on simmer before getting changed but P stopped me and said why don't we try the new tapas bar that's just opened in town. That was fine by me, then he reminded me I better go and get my jodhpurs on (as if I needed reminding), I stopped for a brief moment, an horrific thought that he might want to take me out in them flashed through my mind, then it passed, he wouldn't do that it would be too embarrassing for him, too, if we met anyone. In the bedroom I was nervous, ridiculous isn't it, I mean the number of times I've been spanked and still I get apprehensive, tense, and excited too I'll admit that, but it's a funny combination and it still happens. I'm glad it does. I de-knickered, threw my shirt and bra on the bed, pulled on a thin Max Mara vest, the fabric always makes my nipples harden, and drew on my old jodhpurs and boots. The new ones were crumpled on the ripped packaging at the side of the dresser, I was so tempted to put them on but he'd specifically said my old ones.

I looked in the mirror, did my bum look fat, was it plump enough,

did I need some lippy on, did it make any difference if he made me do you know what to him, better with or without lippy? I rather like to have it on, I like to see my lips lustrous it makes me feel sexy, I like seeing the red all over his shaft after I've done it, I was about to apply some when my husband's voice rang out.

"You've been quite long enough, I want you in the office. Now!" He sounded so strict, I abandoned the lipstick and went immediately to our little office.

He was waiting for me, sat against the desk edge, his curly handled cane held loosely, tap tapping against his left thigh. I wanted to ask him where the crop was, I mean crops go with jodhpurs not canes, but it might burst the bubble and I didn't want that. I was going to get what I'd wanted for days, I just hoped it wasn't too hard but I mean you can't say that sort of thing when you've got something going, you just have to trust. And anyway I might want it hard once I was into it so I put my trust and my bottom in my husband's hands, so to speak.

"You know why you're here." I didn't know if that was a question or a statement and I didn't answer.

"You're here because you've been greedy." What? Where on earth was he going with that?

"Greedy to indulge, in fact over indulge, your little kink for equestrian accessories," he continued, "well we'll see what a trip across my desk does for your perverted infatuation. I doubt you'll be so eager to pull on a pair of riding breeches for some considerable time." Oh christ I loved what he was saying but I hoped he didn't mean it, the implied severity I mean, it can be a tad uncomfortable eating out on a very sore bottom. Anyway it was out of my hands and my husband got off the desk edge and pulled me forward, he placed one hand on my shoulder and one on my bottom and bent me gently but firmly into position, his cane was still in his right hand and I could feel the business end of it tickling my leg.

Then he was standing back, weighing up his target, I wondered if my bottom looked frightened, perhaps vulnerable might be the best description, its owner was frightened though. I shifted my weight from left to right, flinched my bottom a bit, I needed it to start, then I took the bull by the horns and stuck my bottom out and up, god I hoped it looked sexy and I hoped my husband knew I was offering myself up to him. Still nothing happened so I tried to plump my cheeks out even more and then I got my reward if that's the right word, I heard the briefest of whooshes and then a searing line of white heat across both my cheeks

which made me gasp so much could hardly manage a cry, and just as I was about to get into a serious howl and wiggle my scalded cheeks in a useless attempt to lessen the pain, another stroke followed swiftly causing me to arch up and OWWWwwwww!! as I twisted towards my punisher wide eyed from shock.

My husband stood smirking, he'd known the effect the strokes would have on me, he'd wanted it so.

"Shush shush," he said, "you've only had two strokes of the cane, it's nothing other naughty girls don't get, now bend back over or I'll cane you much harder." He sounded as if he meant it too. I bent over again but didn't push my bottom out this time, I wasn't going to invite that level of intimacy again, but my husband started tapping the cane lightly on my cheeks, then he said "Come on I want that bottom pushed right out to meet my cane again. Do it, I won't tell you twice." So I did, and I heard myself whimper as I did it and I had to really will myself to get it right up and I know my legs started to shake as I was doing it and then I heard the whoosh of the cane again but no pain came, I think P was having a practice swipe and it sounded terrible and I whimpered again and I'm sure by buttocks were quivering in the confines of my jodhpurs.

Then two more strokes landed across my bottom and I breathed a gasp this time of relief, they were nowhere near so hard. Then my husband's hands were round my waist searching for the side clasp and zipper which he soon opened. He said he needed to see how much damage he'd done but I could feel the hardness of his cock against my seat and thought he needed something else. He lowered the pants and looked at my bottom, decided it was nowhere near enough punished and proceeded to give me another four strokes of his cane across my bare flesh, they were very stingy and they made me wriggle but not howl,

they were very stingy and they made me wriggle but not howl, I could sense the worst was over and I was right.

The cane was thrown on the floor, P pulled me up and had me kneel on the futon which is a lot more comfortable, with my upper body over the back. He kneaded and soothed my burning cheeks and asked me if I'd learned my lesson. I thought no, P, I haven't learned it yet but I hope I'm going to learn it very soon. His hand strayed between my legs and discovered my slutty condition, hopelessly wet, I pushed my ravaged bum against his hand forcing his fingers hard into me, then his hand was gone and I heard his fly unzip and then his cock had replaced his hand, he was too big at first and I shouted out and loved the feeling and begged him to do it hard. And he did.

An hour later we were off into town, happy as newlyweds, I had two half welts on my bottom which played me up right through our meal and I shuffled about quite a lot, I think the tapas were a bit poor but I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. When we got back home later our son was still out, P asked me if I'd like some cream on my backside, he doesn't often do that, I thought he must still be feeling frisky and said yes please, but then we heard a key in the lock. Ah well.

Ronnie

xx

Caroline's Caning

This is the final part of the Riding School story which I was going to schedule while we were away but decided not to.

It's rather long but hope you enjoy it.......

"So that's confirmed then, Miss Robbins, 8.00am a fortnight this Saturday and Mr van Eyck said he'll be looking forward to putting you through your paces."

I could hardly believe I was doing it, I hadn't told the girl this visit wasn't in connection with my job but the truth was my editor had lost interest, decided there wasn't anything juicy enough to justify my further paid time and expenses. This visit was private.

I asked her if I should wear any particular clothing but she just told me casually to bring my normal riding gear. I didn't like to tell her my normal riding gear was likely to consist of jeans and a t-shirt, I mean I hadn't ridden for years and even then I'd never kitted out properly. I thanked her and told her I'd be there. When I put the phone down I stomped the floor and scrunched my fists up, I'd done it! I was going back, I was excited as well as nervous at the prospect and for just over two weeks I think it played on my mind more than anything else.

When the day came I was up at 6.00am, showered, hair washed, Standing in front of the mirror my Pepe jeans on. Polo t shirt laid out on the bed which I thought was appropriate, sports bra which I knew might show my nipples and several pairs of knickers all of which I had tried on, turning and twisting this way and that before deciding which were most suitable. Suitable for what, I thought to myself as I dabbed perfume here and there, I mean I was going to a country riding stable for goodness sake, horseflesh, manure, sweat, country air and all that and there was me fussing about knickers and perfume. I was too nervous for breakfast, I just had juice and coffee, besides the Pepe jeans were new and a tight fit and I thought a bowl of cereal might make me uncomfortable. Stupid me, I should have swapped the Pepes for a well worn pair of Levis and had the breakfast.

I left home just after 7.00am, smelling like I would for a night on the pull, dressed in my finest posh casual, I took a small travel bag with me with a spare shirt, towel, second choice knickers and some drinking water. With only light traffic on a Saturday morning I entered the school drive twenty minutes early.

I remembered the trees, the morning sun filtered weakly through their dense foliage, there was no one riding. Perhaps I'd got the wrong day, perhaps I should turn round at the end of the drive and go back home, I could call and apologise, say my editor had an urgent last minute job for me. Then I was in the clearing and bright sunlight at the end of the leafy tunnel and a smiling girl waved to me, I'd been recognised, too late to turn round. I thought about calling her over and explaining that I'd just had an urgent phone call and needed to leave immediately and could she please apologise to Mr van Eyck for me, but she was running up towards the car anyway, pointing to where I should park. It was Joanna, the girl I'd interviewed, she was so bright and welcoming I wanted to get out of the car and give her a hug and ask her how she was and how things were going but I didn't. Instead I let the window down, cowardice was getting the better of me, I was about to utter my pathetic story about the urgent phone call when a black Range Rover pulled into the clearing. It was Mr van Eyck.

"Miss Robbins!" He beamed as he climbed down from his vehicle. "How lovely to see you again, I'm so glad you decided to come and join us." He took my hand as I got out of my little Volvo and nodded approvingly as he noticed my travel bag. "Excellent," he said, "Joanna will show you where to change, plenty of time, beautiful morning." And then he was off, I noticed he was already wearing jodhpurs and riding boots and he made an imposing figure as he strode across the gravel towards the office building adjacent to the stables.

Joanna took me by the arm. "Come on, I'll show you the dressing rooms," she said and we followed Mr van Eyck to the office building, taking a right turn once inside along a short corridor which led to a large girls changing room with showers and toilets. There was similar facility for boys on the other side of the building, she told me, but it didn't get used much. Joanna opened a locker for me and told me I could leave my clothes in it and keep the key although the risk of theft was virtually nil. She seemed surprised when I told her I didn't have to change, just my travel bag and handbag to store. "Oh dear no, Sir won't like that, someone will be in trouble, let's see what I can find," and off she went leaving me on my own and hoping it wasn't me in trouble.

Joanna returned a few moments later, a bundle of clothing over her left arm and a pair of riding boots and helmet dangling from her hand. "Try these on," she said, "I'm about your size, they should fit." I told her I couldn't possibly take her gear even though it was a very kind thought but Joanna insisted, saying they were a spare set she'd just fetched from her car. She then opened her own locker to show me was telling the truth. "And in any case I'm not riding this morning, Caroline is using my pony, in fact she should be out there already but that's another story." I was finally convinced and accepted her offer gratefully, kicking off my trainers and wriggling out of my jeans in favour of Joanna's jodhpurs, jacket and boots.

There was a knock on the door before we could chat much, Joanna shouted come in and Mr van Eyck entered the changing room, two crops in his left hand left hand, his right arm extending towards me, his head bowed theatrically. "Come then, Miss Robbins, allow me to escort you and join you for a pleasant morning ride." I joined him and as we left he looked over his shoulder to Joanna and said "Tell Caroline, if and when she deigns to grace us with her presence, I want to see her in my office at 9.30." This will be the third time in as many weeks she's been late. Htt!" I remembered his little speech habit, I wondered if it happened when he was nervous, under pressure or perhaps angry. I didn't think it meant anything good for Caroline and wondered if he might expel her.

My mare was fourteen hands, he told me, placid and old enough to be sensible; he said I could just climb aboard and leave it all to her if I wanted. It was the nearest Mr van Eyck had come to making a joke and I smiled politely. His own mount was quite a bit bigger, both were saddled ready to go and, after a few basics in a small paddock for me to demonstrate I wasn't a complete novice,

Mr van Eyck opened a gate and we rode into an open field where Mr van Eyck took the lead, walking, trotting and finally cantering when he could see I wasn't hanging on for dear life. He certainly had an air of authority sitting astride his horse.

"Take the lead Miss Robbins, please, at your own pace, I'll keep up I promise." It was another of his little jokes, I knew he could keep up, still I took the lead and on the other side of the stream and when path turned into a large meadow I gee'd my pony on to a canter, raising myself up from the waist, hips moving with the horse, then raising my bottom out of the saddle and arching my back slightly as I leaned my upper torso forward for a gallop, as I'd been taught. I was exhilarated, I wondered if Mr van Eyck was impressed, I wondered if he was watching my backside as it undulated with the motion of the horse, then he was aside me, riding easily and signalling me to slow down which I did immediately, "Excellent Miss Robbins but take it easy first time after so many years, we don't want you falling off on that pretty bottom of yours."

I'm sure I turned beetroot red, I hoped he'd assume it was the rush of air from the short gallop, he didn't comment, just said it was time we were getting back and he'd show me a different route, which he did with us riding abreast and chatting where space permitted and single file where it did not.

Back at the stables Joanna and another girl were waiting for us. We'd been out just over an hour, the time had flown. We dismounted, Joanna's companion took care of the horses and Mr van Eyck asked me if I'd care to join him for coffee in, say, half an hour id time and expenses. This visit ould look after me. I asked Joanna if we might watch some of the other girls going through their routines, I could see there were four or five girls practising and a couple more watching from the sides, but she said oh no, they would all be coming in within ten minutes, there was a brief meeting scheduled for 9.45am which all girls were required to attend. She told me I could come too and I'd just have time to change first.

I didn't bother showering, just got back into my jeans and trainers, gulped some water down, checked my phone for messages and handed Joanna's stuff back to her. It was nearly 9.45am, "Come on," she said, "we mustn't be late." I asked her where the meeting was and she told me in the training room, which was also used for hospitality on open days, it was equipped for lectures, videos, presentations etc with a small stage and could seat about twenty people although we wouldn't be seated today, it would only be a short meeting she said shyly. The room was past reception and Mr van Eyck's office, the door was open when we arrived and ten or twelve girls were congregated inside, their excited chatter stopped as Joanna and I entered the room, I assumed it was my presence, new kid on the block, but that wasn't the case at all. Their attention was focused behind us and I turned to see Mr van Eyck enter the room accompanied by a striking dark haired girl who looked nervous and avoided eye contact. She might have been southern European judging from her skin and features but I couldn't be certain, she certainly had the curves prevalent in girls from those climes and she deported herself well.

Could someone near the back please close the door," said Mr van Eyck as he mounted the low stage carrying a riding crop, "Thank you," it was Joanna who closed it and returned to my side.

"You all know why we're here," he said clearly and concisely, "Caroline has let us all down by being late for practise for a third time in little more than two weeks. In so doing she has inconvenienced others and disrupted our schedules. She has shown no genuine remorse and the reasons given for her inconsiderate behaviour are spurious to say the least. She is to be punished." Mr van Eyck was already moving towards a wall mounted cupboard at the back of the stage as his pronouncement was made. There was shuffling and fidgeting amongst the assembled girls but no one spoke. Mr van Eyck turned back from the cupboard and instead of the crop he was holding a long crook handled cane, I could hardly believe my eyes.

"A chair if you please, Caroline." He flexed the cane between his two hands as he waited for the unfortunate girl to follow his instruction. I lost sight of Caroline's head as she bent down to lift a light framed chair which she carried onto the stage and placed in front of Mr van Eyck with its back facing out to the room .

"I'm sorry, Sir," I heard her say meekly. The room was silent now, you could have heard a pin drop.

"Sorry for being in this position no doubt," said the riding school proprietor, "and you will shortly be a lot sorrrier. Stand against the back of the chair, then bend over palms flat on the seat, I'm going to punish you and then you will apologise to your colleagues for your inconsiderate behaviour."

There was no protest and not a sound in the room as Caroline stood at the chair back for a moment then bent forward and down so that chair top was wedged against her hips, her bottom, which I noticed was voluptuous and bulged slightly obscenely in her strained jodhpurs, thrust out towards us.

Mr van Eyck positioned himself to her left and told her it would be four strokes and not to move until he said she could. I heard one girl gasp. I thought about reaching into my jeans for my phone and trying to snatch a couple of shots surreptitiously but then I couldn't remember if the flash was on and if it was I'd be caught. Then I thought even if I managed some shots and my editor liked them, would I really want them published? It would mean I could never come back here. I didn't get the camera, I was completely distracted from the idea when I heard the whoosh of the cane and the terrible splat as it landed across the bending girl's plump cheeks followed by her ooohh arrghhhh! and the tiny shuffle of her feet. I was shocked, as if frozen to the spot when I felt Joanna's left hand reaching for my right, which she found and clasped lightly, firming her grip as she saw the cane raised for a second time and squeezing as it thrashed down followed by more cries from the girl. Whether to comfort me or herself I had no idea but the contact was warm and almost conspiratorial in an odd way. I think I squeezed back at the following two strokes which were delivered fast and had Caroline cry out loudly and stomp her feet making her bottom wobble and left her crying in great heaving sobs.

I was too stunned to say anything, there was a murmur in the 'audience' although I couldn't catch words. Then Mr van Eyck's voice, strong and clear, "Get up now Caroline and turn around, I believe you have something to say to your colleagues, Htt!"

The punished girl stood slowly, I'm sure her poor bottom must have felt terrible and I should think she would rather have fallen through the floor than faced her colleagues. When she did turn round she straightened to her full height and lifted her head proudly, brave girl, we could see her face tear streaked and her lip was quivering as she tried to speak and hold back the sobs at the same time. No words came out and Mr van Eyck spoke again, surprisingly softly, "Go on Caroline, you'll feel better for it," and after a while Caroline managed to get out "S-s-sorry...I'm so sorry to all of you" before the floodgates re-opened and she was sobbing again.

"Htt. Let it be a lesson, my girl," said Mr van Eyck as he replaced the cane in the cupboard and left the room. The girls immediately surrounded Caroline, sisterly empathy, commiseration, admiration, perhaps even excitement, I wasn't observing objectively, caught up in the general frisson it was impossible to think clearly. Then I remembered my coffee date. Oh my goodness, I said to Joanna perhaps I should just go straight home instead but she said no not at all, I should go along to reception and have my coffee, she assured me it would be business as usual for Mr van Eyck. She smiled warm encouragement and I went to reception a few minutes before ten o'clock, trembling slightly and quite ridiculously as I waited for my host to arrive.

At precisely top of the hour Mr van Eyck entered the room, the coffeee machine was already on and he went and poured two cups, remembering from our last meeting how I liked mine. We chatted casually, not one reference to the caning, just talking about the ride, my proficiency, how he thought I could improve, whether I liked the girls and the set up in general and then finally, close to ten-thirty, about whether I thought my trip would provide anything of interest for my editor. He was smiling, I was not, as I explained to him that I'd made the appointment outside of my duties as a reporter and that I would not be making any kind of report or in fact comments of any sort to my editor. I was about to apologise when he beamed, "Well that's splendid, Miss Robbins, you won't feel compromised by your professional instincts and you can answer me plainly when I tell you I'd be delighted to have you join us as an intermediate student if you'd be so inclined, I really think you have the ability to do well." I was taken by surprise his invitation but not by the idea of enrolling in the school which had already occurred to me on the ride.

"I think I'd like that, Mr van Eyck....Sir," I realised what I'd said and felt myself blush.

"Excellent, I'll have Joanna attend to the details." He shook my hand and went to leave.

"Mr van Eyck," I said, "one more thing, that girl just now, is she.. er.. expelled?"

"You mean Caroline? Good heavens no, not at all, fine young rider, we're all very proud of her, she'll represent our school one day, just needs a little discipline. Good day, Miss Robbins."

****

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx