Joanne's Summer Job - Joanne Witnesses The Caning Of Her Boyfriend free porn video

Peter Mitchell placed the key to the front door in lock and turned it slowly. He hoped to avoid waking his girlfriend Joanne and then having the unpleasant task of explaining to her where he had been and why he was only arriving home at eight o’clock that Sunday morning, long after he had promised he would be home. Peter pushed the front door open gently and removed his key. He stepped into the hallway and turned around, slowly closing the heavy door behind him.

He winced as it clicked loudly. It seemed to echo along the wooden-floored hall way, no matter how careful and quiet he had tried to be, and as he turned around he saw that his plan to sneak in without Joanne Wilson noticing had failed. There she was, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, in her maroon coloured dressing gown, which she had wrapped around her. She stood there in silence, arms folded across her chest, long red hair down and a stern look on her face.

“Where the hell have you been?” She snapped angrily.

Peter tried to think quickly and searched for an answer that would placate his obviously seething girlfriend. There was no way that she could discover the true reason for his late arrival home that sunny, September morning.

“Err, I had a bit too much to drink and didn’t want to disturb you, so I slept on Andrew’s floor.” He walked down the hall way and stood close to Joanne, who continued to look furious.

“As soon as I woke up I left and came home.” He continued, avoiding the urge to smile.

Joanne Wilson shook her head as she continued to stare at her boyfriend.

“Why didn’t you text me and tell me that last night?” She shook her head once more.

“I’ve been worried sick since I woke up and saw that you weren’t home.” Joanne Wilson turned and went and sat down at the table in their small kitchen.

Peter followed her, still thinking about how he could make her believe his story.

“I’m sorry, Jo. I was pissed and just forgot.” He remained standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Joanne, who was drinking a cup of tea.

“You were pissed? Why? You hardly ever drink.” Joanne Wilson stared right through her boyfriend with her brown eyes.

“I don’t know why I drank so much.” He paused and thought to himself for a moment before continuing his lie.

“I just got carried along by the other people from work I guess. I was celebrating leaving and just had a few too many.” He finally smiled, but soon stopped once he saw Joanne continuing to shake her head at him.

“I lost track of time and then when Andrew said that I could sleep at his I thought it would be best because I knew that you’d have gone to bed and I didn’t want to wake you.”

Peter Mitchell walked over to the kitchen cupboards and took a glass which he filled with water. He drained the glass in one go and refilled it, Joanne Wilson sitting with her back to him, not saying a word. He pulled out the chair opposite to Joanne and struggled to sit on the seat.

“You could have called me.” Joanne said quietly.

“I was worried sick when I woke up during the night and found that you weren’t here. I thought something bad had happened to you.” She got to her feet and placed her empty cup in the sink.

“Sorry Jo. I won’t do it again.” He said, giving Joanne his best remorseful look.

“No, you won’t. You know how I feel about drinking too much, Pete.” She walked towards the door and stood looking down at her long-time boyfriend.

“I’m sorry Jo.” Peter Mitchell said pathetically.

“Just get out of my sight. I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She said, shaking her head once more, as she left the room and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.

Peter Mitchell sat at the kitchen table for a while, finishing his second glass of water. He decided that his story had worked, and relatively successfully too. Joanne would come around eventually, even if it took a day or so, and then they would be back to normal, just like things had been in the near six years that they had been together. They had argued in the past, but they had always managed to kiss and make up relatively quickly. He would go through with what he had signed up to at the Police station that morning, Joanne would be none the wiser about his night out, and they would be back to the way that things were.

The twenty-year-old student got to his feet and placed the empty glass in the sink before walking up the stairs to his own bedroom. He thought about knocking on Joanne’s bedroom door and apologising once more but thought better of it. Peter closed his bedroom door and removed his wallet and phone from his trouser pockets. He then pulled the folded A4 sheet of paper from the back pocket of his Levi’s jeans and exhaled heavily as he unfolded it and read it.

He had signed to say that he would attend a centre in the city to have corporal punishment administered to his bare bottom. This was a result of him being arrested for being drunk and disorderly that previous night. He closed his eyes as he struggled to remember the events. All he could remember was waking up in a Police cell and then being asked early that morning whether he wanted to go to court and be dealt with or receive a sentence of corporal punishment.

Peter Mitchell had quickly decided upon the latter. It would be painful but not as embarrassing as a court appearance. Also, by doing it this way, there was no chance that Joanne would ever find out about his arrest that Saturday night. Once he had made his decision, a Police Woman had printed out the A4 sheet and watched as Peter had signed it. She then informed him that there was a problem but seen as he was the first one to be dealt with that Sunday morning that the problem wouldn’t affect his punishment being administered first thing the following day.

The Male Correction Facility would be closed that Monday as they had a problem with their electrical supply. Anyone sentenced to be dealt with there would be notified by letter of their re-arranged punishment. However, to deal with some of the cases, prisoners would be re-directed to the Female Correction Institute. As Peter was at the top of the list, his punishment would still go ahead that following day but at the Female Correctional Institute instead. He would report there at 8am and his sentence would be administered between 8.15 and 8.45 that morning.

Although the letters FCI printed at the top of the sheet of paper which he held in his hands should have registered in his brain, due to his tiredness and effects of the beer he had drunk the previous night, he simply folded up the paper and placed it in his trouser pocket once more. He took off his clothes, throwing them on the floor before pulling back his sheets and duvet and sleeping uneasily for the next eight hours.

As he slept, he dreamed about what his judicial punishment would be like. He imagined that the four strokes that he had been sentenced to would be no harder than the caning that he had received over two years ago from Miss Manson and his girlfriend Joanne, the then Head Girl at his old school. They had hardly ever mentioned that, but Peter remembered that Joanne Wilson had said that she had laid on the twelve cane strokes as hard as she physically could, more in fear of what Miss Manson may have done to them both, had she gone easy on him as he was her boyfriend.

Peter thought about being punished by a woman and smiled. He was glad that the Male Correctional Facility had been closed for the day. He really would have felt uneasy being punished by another man but being punished by a woman was quite a turn on. He had enjoyed being spanked by Joanne when they played before sex and had even enjoyed, despite the pain, being slippered by the Head of Girls’ PE at St Katherine’s School, Leonie MacKintosh when she had visited them earlier that year. When he woke up, he found that he had an erection at the thought and smiled, reaching for his jeans and that piece of paper once again.

Joanne Wilson did not speak to Peter for the rest of that day once he had got up and left his bedroom, and they tried their best to avoid one another. She was angry. Not at her boyfriend’s drunken night out but with the fact that he had failed to tell her that he was staying with a friend instead of coming home. Joanne loved him very much and worried about him when he was not with her. The Correction Officer spent the rest of her Sunday doing some work in preparation for her return to University and chatting via text to some of the ladies who she worked with at the Female Correction Institute.

“See we’re getting some naughty boys to work on tomorrow girls!” Her boss Karen Savage texted.

“OMG – Why? Haven’t we got enough work?” Correction Officer Kelli Seagrave had replied.

“Problem with their electrics which they won’t have sorted by tomorrow. They’re closed and we’re taking four cases from them. Anyone on the early shift will have one of their cases. Karen.” Ms. Savage had replied to the group.

“That’s me then.” Joanne had chipped in.

As the conversation progressed and more ladies joined in, it became clear who would be expected to take on the extra punishments. As well as Joanne Wilson, Kelli Seagrave, Heidi Owens, Charlotte Paulsen, Amy Simcock, Kirsty Maitland, Nicola McCoy and Jill Edwards would be the female Correction Officers who would be dealing with the four male prisoners sent to FCI for their punishment.

Peter Mitchell did not sleep very well that night. He was upset at how Joanne had reacted and worried about how to make things right between them once more. He also felt unwell after drinking far too much on that fateful Saturday night too. He woke early that Monday morning and showered, ensuring that his bottom was clean for the woman who was going to deal with him a couple of hours later. He dressed and decided to skip breakfast, instead leaving the house just before 7am and heading into town for a coffee. He needed to arrive at 8am for his punishment and the FCI building was just down from the Police Station in town. He’d stop at a coffee shop nearby so that he could take his time over his coffee before reporting for his punishment.

Peter had heard Joanne Wilson taking a shower after him but decided against waiting for her to say sorry once again. She hadn’t calmed down and he was aware that he would just make the situation worse. Perhaps a day at work would help her relax and maybe she’d come home that evening and they could talk things over. He would cook her favourite meal and see how things went. He smiled as he sat and sipped his coffee, conscious of the time. His watch seemed to be moving extremely quickly and in no time at all it was 7.35am. He decided that it was time to make his way the short distance to the FCI building.

As Peter Mitchell was leaving the coffee shop, Joanne Wilson was arriving at the Female Correction Institute for her early shift. Once she had sorted her name badge and security pass out, she locked her handbag in her locker and walked down to the main office, where the receptionist, Gillian McLaughlin was organising the day ahead.

“Morning Gillian. Hope you had a good weekend?” Joanne smiled at the fifty-year-old receptionist who smiled back.

“Yes. It was lovely thanks. Hope you had fun too.” She looked over at the young Correction Officer before reaching behind her and picking up a bundle of papers.

“Going to be busy today!” Joanne Wilson exclaimed.

“You are. You have room nine today and you’re with Kelli.” She handed the papers over to Joanne who took them in her right hand.

“Thanks. I’ll head down there now and get set up.” She smiled and placed the papers under her arm, not looking at the names and details printed on them.

“Have a good day.” Gillian smiled and watched as Joanne Wilson placed her security pass on the box on the wall.

There was a loud beep and the young Correction Officer pushed the door open, walking through into the corridor and allowed the door to slam behind her. She was still in a bad mood from the events of yesterday and those people who she had to deal with that day were sure to feel her displeasure. She stopped once she had reached room nine, opening the door with her pass and stepped inside. She walked across to the table in the far corner of the room and placed the bundle of papers down. Joanne Wilson then picked up the schedule of punishments that Kelli and herself had to administer that day. On seeing the name, age and address of their first case, she dropped the clipboard on the grey stone floor and ran out of the room.

At just before 7.50am, Peter Mitchell walked into the reception area at the Female Correction Institute. He walked the short distance to the desk and looked down at the woman sat behind the desk. She was busy, so Peter waited patiently for her to finish, looking around the cold, dull reception. Eventually, the receptionist finished what she was doing and noticed that someone was waiting.

“Hello. Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’ve got an appointment at 8.15. I was told to be here by eight.” The extremely tall young man answered.

“Name?” Gillian McLaughlin asked coldly.

“Peter Andrew Mitchell.” The man replied.

“Date of Birth?” Gillian began tapping away at her keyboard.

“The twenty-eighth of June nineteen ninety-eight.” Peter answered.

The receptionist continued tapping away at her computer keyboard, not looking up at Peter, who stood there patiently. After a few moments, the older woman looked up and pointed across the reception with her black pen.

“Sit over there and wait. Someone will be with you shortly.” Gillian McLaughlin returned her attention to her computer screen.

The twenty-year-old student turned and walked over to the chairs and sat down. There were two other people there, a man and a woman but they sat in silence, looking up every time the front door opened. Peter Mitchell took his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and looked at it. There were no messages from Joanne and he thought about texting her. After thinking better of doing that, he placed it back in his pocket and stared at the door next to reception. Once this was over, he would go shopping and prepare Joanne’s favourite meal and make it a romantic night. There would be no way that she would continue sulking after he had shown her how much she meant to him.

At the same time as Peter was arriving at reception, Joanne Wilson was frantically pleading with Kelli Seagrave in the staff room upstairs.

“Kelli, I can’t do it. He’s my boyfriend.” She said in a panic.

“Are you sure?” The older woman had asked.

“Definitely. Same date of birth and address.” Joanne toyed with her security pass.

“Fuck!” Kelli Seagrave replied and thought to herself before continuing.

“Well, once it has been approved and printed then we can’t change it, Jo.” Kelli took hold of Joanne’s arms in her hands.

“What if I tell Karen or Laura that he’s my boyfriend and I can’t do it?” Joanne looked at how she could get out of the punishment.

“They’ll just say you have to do it, sweetie. When we sign up to work here if you look in the small print it says that you would be prepared to punish a family member, friend or relative as if they were any other ordinary member of the public.” Miss Seagrave gave a sympathetic smile.

“Plus, the fact that neither of them is in until 10 o’clock today.” Kelli added.

“Fucking hell. I can’t do it to him.” Joanne was on the brink of bursting into tears.

“Well, we could swap positions.” Kell Seagrave brushed Joanne’s long red hair with her right hand before continuing.

“How many strokes?” She asked.

“Four.” Joanne exhaled heavily.

“With the reformatory cane.” She moved away from her colleague.

“Okay. So, what we’ll do is I’ll cane him, and you manage it.” Kelli Seagrave turned to her locker and pulled out her security pass, name badge and keys.

“I don’t know if I can even watch it.” Joanne said quietly.

“It’ll be okay. If anyone asks, I’ll just tell Laura that you hurt your wrist and asked me to do the punishment instead. She’ll be okay – Laura’s cool.” She closed her locker door and faced Joanne.

“Okay.” Joanne Wilson answered quietly.

“Right. I’ll go and sort the room out while you go and sort him out. Okay?” Kelli placed her badge on the left-hand side of her white short-sleeved blouse and slipped the security pass over her head.

“Remember that he gets changed in the punishment room and not the cells – there was a message about it from Karen this morning.” Miss Seagrave smiled at Joanne.

The two ladies hugged and headed out of the room and into the corridor, Kelli Seagrave heading down to the ground floor to check the punishment room and Joanne to go and collect her boyfriend from reception at the other end of the grey and dull tiled corridor. Joanne Wilson waited by the door which led through to the main reception and watched her older friend pause outside correction room number nine. Kelli Seagrave pressed her security pass on the black box and it beeped a second later. She looked down the corridor at Joanne, smiled and walked inside, the heavy door slamming shut a few seconds later.

The young Correction Officer sighed and took hold of her security pass in her right hand. She placed it against the box on the wall and when it beeped, pulled the dark blue door open. She waited for a moment before stepping into reception, taking another deep breath. Once she was composed, she stepped into the relatively large room and headed straight for the reception desk, behind which, Gillian was sitting. Joanne did not look over at the people sitting, waiting – she knew that he was there.

“Hello.” She said quietly.

“Hello, Miss Wilson. Your eight fifteen appointment is over…” Gillian did not get to finish her sentence before Joanne Wilson had walked over to where her boyfriend sat.

Peter Mitchell had realised that Joanne had walked into reception as soon as the door had opened. He looked over and immediately recognised her long, red hair, which she had tied up with a hair band behind her head. He stared at his twenty-year-old girlfriend, not knowing what to do or say. Within a matter of seconds, she was standing three feet away from him and looking down upon him as he sat looking at his shoes in disbelief.

“Peter Andrew Mitchell?” Joanne asked coldly, and just like she sometimes did when she was going to roleplay before spanking him at home.

Peter Mitchell looked up slowly in absolute disbelief but managed to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to stand up and ask her what the hell she was doing there. He wanted to call her Jo and put his arms around her and plead with her not to punish him. After a moment staring at her he nodded and answered.

“Yes Miss.”

Joanne Wilson wanted to hug him too but needed to get through this session like it was any other punishment session.

“Come with me, please.” She instructed and watched as he got to his feet, towering over her.

The red headed Correction Officer walked back across the reception and waited by the dark blue door, watching as her boyfriend made his way over to where she stood. Joanne placed her security pass against the black box on the wall, pushed the door open and allowed Peter Mitchell through into the long and dark corridor. Miss Wilson paused for a moment to hold the door open for Heidi Owens and Kirsty Maitland who were making their way down to reception to collect their prisoners. She nodded at them before walking into the corridor, looking furious at Peter.

Peter Mitchell walked a short distance behind his girlfriend, who walked quickly down the corridor, only pausing and turning to look at him once she had reached the punishment room. She remained silent as she placed her security pass against the box on the wall. It beeped loudly, echoing around the cold, stone-walled corridor. She pushed the door open.

“In!” Joanne gave Peter a helping hand on his back and watched as he nervously stepped inside the large room.

Peter Mitchell took a few steps before he stood still, taking in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the black leather padded bench towards the front of the room. Then the table to the right-hand side of the room. Then the chair at the back of the room. And finally, the other woman who was stood beside the table, holding the cane in her right hand. He stared at her and then looked over his left shoulder as the door slammed shut behind him. From the corner of his left eye he watched Joanne walk past him and stand behind the bench. She turned around and stared right through him.

Peter watched as the other woman, a very attractive, dark haired woman in her mid-late twenties, walked to the front of the room and handed a clipboard to his girlfriend who continued to watch him, not taking her eyes from him for a second. She took the clipboard in her right hand and nodded at the other Correction Officer.

“I need you to read and then sign this, where we’ve indicated to say that you accept the punishment.” She held the board out and Peter took it in his right hand, almost in tears.

Peter Mitchell read the white A4 sheet for a moment, looked once more at Joanne Wilson, then back to the clipboard, before finally removing the pen from the top of the board and signing his name on the top sheet and handing the clipboard and pen back to his girlfriend. She took the clipboard, checking the signature, before walking over to the table and gently placing it down.

“I need you to walk over to the chair at the back of the room and get completely undressed. Once you have done that you come back here and stand facing the bench.” Joanne instructed and waited whilst Peter took a moment to comply.

A couple of minutes later, Peter was naked and standing facing the bench. He continued to watch Joanne, but she neither said a word or showed any emotion.

“I need you to bend right over the bench there. Reach right across and make sure that your knees are touching the top, there.” She indicated with her right hand.

Peter Mitchell did as he had been told and stepped up to the black leather-covered punishment bench. He placed his knees on the lower part of the bench, shuffling around until his knees couldn’t go any further, like he had been instructed. He then lay face down on the raised part of the bench so that his bottom was raised.

Correction Officer Wilson nodded and walked over to the bench, immediately reaching down for the leather strap which would hold her boyfriend’s left wrist securely in place during his punishment. She took hold of Peter’s left arm and carefully placed the strap around his thin wrist, fastening the metal buckle. She then repeated the procedure on his right wrist. Joanne then walked behind the prisoner and picked up the left-hand strap and secured the Peter’s left ankle to the bench, making sure that she did not fasten it too tightly. Once satisfied, Joanne did the same to Peter Mitchell’s right ankle.

With Peter secured to the bench, the ex-Head Girl reached down for the padding that would cover the prisoner’s thighs during his punishment. She laid this across the backs of Peter’s legs and then fastened it in place with another strap. Joanne Wilson then picked up the padded strap that reached across the lower back and secured this in place. Peter Andrew Mitchell was finally ready to receive his four-stroke punishment.

Joanne checked that she had secured the prisoner to the bench once more and as soon as she was satisfied that everything was in order, she walked around and stood in front of where her boyfriend was lying face down on the bench. She looked over at Kelli Seagrave who walked across the room and stood to Peter’s left-hand side, the thick reformatory cane in her right hand.

“Miss Wilson are we ready to begin.” Kelli smiled at Joanne.

“Yes Miss Seagrave. Peter has signed to say that he accepts his punishment.” Joanne took a step forward and placed both hands on her boyfriend’s broad shoulders, pushing down slightly.

“Peter Andrew Mitchell has been sentenced to four strokes with the reformatory cane for being drunk and disorderly and resisting arrest on Saturday the first of September 2018. You may lay on the strokes, Miss Seagrave.” She continued, pushing the restrained prisoner down further into the padded leather bench.

Correction Officer Kelli Seagrave thought to herself for a moment and decided how she would proceed. She stood about three feet away from Peter Mitchell’s left side and laid the thick reformatory cane in between the padding which covered the prisoner’s lower back and thighs. Miss Seagrave looked at Joanne as she began tapping the exposed buttocks with the thick cane, before nodding at her.

“You may lay on the first stroke, Miss.” Joanne Wilson said coldly.

Peter Mitchell realised that this was it and remembered what Joanne had told him about receiving a caning. To always breathe out just as the stroke landed. He took a deep breath and exhaled just as Kelli raised the cane in the air behind him.

The twenty-three-year-old Correction Officer decided that she would administer the four strokes as quickly as possible and get this session completed. She raised the 12mm cane high above her head and sent it whistling through the air, its journey ended when it connected in the dead centre of the exposed buttocks lying secured to the punishment bench with a loud “thud!”

Joanne Wilson was thinking the same as her older colleague. She wanted the punishment over as soon as possible and quickly announced that first stroke.

“One. Miss Seagrave.”

She looked down at her boyfriend, who by now, had realised the severe nature of a judicial punishment. It was much worse than what he had felt at the hands of his girlfriend, Miss Manson or even Miss MacKintosh. He tried to move but soon found that it was impossible due to the heavy straps holding his wrists and ankles securely in place. He also felt the weight of Joanne pushing down on his shoulders. Peter could sense that she was breathing heavily and tried to focus on something to try and help him ignore the pain which was slowly spreading in his buttocks from that first stroke.

As Peter decided that he would stare at Joanne’s black shoes that were directly below him as he looked down to the floor, the second stroke came whistling through the air, landing a second later within millimetres of where the first stroke had impacted on his bottom, not twenty seconds previously. The loud “thud!” once more, echoing around the room.

“Two! Miss Seagrave.” Joanne’s voice said coldly.

Peter Mitchell winced with pain and tried to stop the tears welling up in his eyes. It was no use, and as the cane was raised again, tears had started to fall from his eyes and onto the leather bench and onto the floor below. His breathing came in gasps and he forgot all about breathing as the stroke landed. It was just a case of getting through those final two strokes for him.

“Thud!” The sound of the heavy reformatory cane connecting with his bare buttocks echoed once more around the large, cold room.

“Three! Miss Seagrave.” Joanne’s familiar voice followed shortly after.

Correction Officer Kelli Seagrave moved back slightly for her final stroke and smiled over at Joanne Wilson, who continued to push her sobbing boyfriend down into the padded bench. She tapped the red and bruised bottom several times before she finally decided that it was time. The young woman raised the cane above her head and brought it swinging through the air one final time, smiling as it landed with a “Thud!” just above the pads protecting the prisoner’s thighs and legs.

“Four Miss Seagrave!” Miss Wilson said softly, almost relieved.

Peter Mitchell screamed but this was muffled by being pushed down into the bench. He was shaking and obviously crying. Behind him, Kelli Seagrave walked over to the table and laid the cane down. She picked up the clipboard with Peter’s details on it, removed a blue pen from the pocket on the front of her white blouse and signed her name to say that the sentence had been carried out. She then walked to the front of the room and handed the pen and clipboard to Joanne, who was still holding onto her boyfriend. It took her a moment to realise that her colleague was standing next to her, holding out the board for her to sign.

Joanne stood up and removed her elbows from Peter’s back, and took the clipboard and pen, signing her name to say that she had witnessed the punishment and then handed them back to her older friend, who smiled and returned to the table on the right-hand side of the room. She turned and placed the clipboard on the table before picking up an anti-septic wipe from the pack on the table and began to clean the reformatory cane. Once she had done this, and returned it to its basket, she removed the white A4 sheet that was on the top of the clipboard and placed it on the desk, taking the other two copies in her left hand.

“I’ll take these to the office and see if our next case has arrived. You just get sorted out and then prepare the room and I’ll be back in about ten minutes.” Kelli smiled as she walked to the door, opened it with her security pass and left the room.

Once Kelli Seagrave had gone, Joanne Wilson busied herself undoing the straps that had held Peter’s wrists and ankles in place as well as those which had protected his legs and lower back. She walked quickly over to the table and opened the first aid kit, pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. Joanne Wilson carried the pack of anti-septic wipes, tube of cream and several plasters over to where Peter was still bent over the bench and she began wiping the cool wipe over his hot and burning bottom. He let out the occasional sob and did not look around to see what his girlfriend was doing. He simply lay face down – relieved that it was all over.

The red-headed Correction Officer squirted some cooling cream into her right hand and slowly massaged Peter’s bottom before she applied a small plaster to a cut that had appeared on his right buttock. Even after only a short while, Joanne could see the four, neat red lines that Kelli had left on her boyfriend’s muscular bottom and smiled a sympathetic smile. That was going to be very uncomfortable for the next week or so and would act as a reminder to him that he shouldn’t drink too much in future.

Once she was all done, Joanne placed the plasters and the tube of cream back in the first aid kit and returned the anti-septic wipes to the table. She picked up the white A4 sheet in her hand and walked back to where Peter was still bent over the punishment bench.

“Okay. Go and get dressed and take my advice to dress standing up – do not sit down on the seat.” She said softly.

Peter Mitchell turned around. She could see his tear-stained cheeks and he was still letting out the occasional sniff. He walked to the back of the room and began to dress, struggling to replace his socks as he stood. Joanne Wilson walked up to him as he was replacing his jacket and held the white A4 sheet out to him.

“You need to take this copy.” She fought the urge to smile at him as he reached out and took it from her.

“Thanks Jo. I’m sorry.” Peter said quietly.

“Not here. There are cameras in all the rooms and punishments are recorded, so we’ll talk about things when I get home tonight. I need to escort you out of here.” Joanne turned and walked quickly across the room and to the door, which she unlocked with her pass and held open until Peter had walked out of the room and into the corridor outside.

They walked down the corridor in silence until they reached a heavy blue door which Joanne Wilson unlocked with her pass and pulled open. Peter followed her in silence, rubbing his eyes and then looking back as the door slammed shut. After a short distance, his girlfriend paused at another door and opened it with her pass, allowing Peter Mitchell to step out into the bright Monday morning.

Once she had watched him walk across the yard and turn into the street, Joanne Wilson allowed the door to slam shut and returned to the punishment room. She checked the next case and placed the senior dragon cane on the table for Kelli Seagrave to use, placing the rubbish from her previous session in the bin as she did so. The twenty-year-old woman then picked up a damp cloth and rubbed down the punishment bench. She checked her watch – 8.45am. Things never seemed to stop at FCI she thought to herself as Correction Officer Seagrave entered the room with a smile wide across her face.

“Our next customer is here and ready when you want to go and collect her from cell six.” She walked over to Joanne and placed her hand on the younger woman’s left arm.

“Thanks for that Kelli. I’m really grateful for what you’ve done today.” She smiled.

“No problem. Let’s go for a quick drink after work and get you sorted out, Miss.” She let Joanne Wilson’s arm go and walked to the table, studying the clipboards lying before her.

“Definitely.” Joanne turned and walked out of the room and headed upstairs to the cells to prepare their next prisoner for their sentence.

The rest of their day passed quickly, and the two young Correction Officers left work at ten past four that afternoon. They decided on a quiet bar, near the city’s railway station, as this was convenient for both ladies. Kelli ordered and paid for their glasses of white wine and they found a seat on a comfortable sofa near the window. Joanne checked her mobile phone and threw it back in her handbag when she noticed that Peter hadn’t texted her.

“He’ll be fine, sweetie – both physically and mentally.” Kelli Seagrave took a sip of wine and smiled.

“I know but just never figured on him getting arrested for being drunk.” Joanne Wilson looked down at her glass.

“Or getting found out that your summer job wasn’t what you have obviously told him it was?” Kelli stared at Joanne.

“Okay. Point taken, Judge Seagrave.” She answered sarcastically.

“Jo. You are so lucky. I mean, you have a lovely guy in your life who obviously worships the ground that you walk on.” Miss Seagrave picked up her glass once more before continuing.

“Don’t let that go over some stupid little lies – from both of you.” She ran her right hand through her shoulder-length brown hair.

“I know. I just can’t believe that we caned him.” Joanne leaned forward and picked up her glass taking a sip of white wine.

“Well, no harm done.” Kelli looked down at her black shoes before looking at the younger woman sitting next to her.

“By the way. You may as well know now that I told Laura and Karen about it.” She continued.

“And?” Joanne Wilson looked away from Kelli Seagrave.

“Well. Like I said, Laura was cool with it – in fact, they both were. We did it right, but Karen did say that we could have swapped with Heidi, Kirsty or Amy.” Miss Seagrave placed her hand on top of Joanne’s right arm.

“Oh great.” Joanne reached over and picked up her glass, taking another sip.

“Look, you both need to be honest about things, sweetie. You would have found out that he was being punished one way or another. It was just bad luck that we got the case. Don’t be stupid and lose a good man over this.” Kelli emptied her glass and looked at her watch.

“I know. I’ll talk to him tonight. I promise.” Joanne Wilson nodded at her friend who had stood up, getting ready to leave.

“I’ve got to go. Text me and tell me how things go.” Miss Seagrave picked up her bag from the floor and headed out of the door.

Joanne Wilson sat and finished her glass of wine before leaving the bar at just after 5pm. She walked slowly through the city centre and looked for any distractions to delay her arrival at home. Eventually, she found herself standing outside the front door to the house that she shared with Peter and two girls from their University. Joanne opened the front door, removed her key from the lock and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. From the hall way she could see that Peter was busy in their small kitchen. The young woman placed her keys in her handbag and left this at the bottom of the stairs.

Peter stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel. He stood in silence for a moment looking at the woman he loved before smiling.

“Hi. Glad you’re home. I’ve made dinner.” He watched as Joanne removed her jacket, revealing her short sleeved white blouse.

“What are you cooking?” She stood in the doorway to their small kitchen.

“Your favourite – paella.” He replied, turning back to the large pan that was simmering away on the hob.

“Lovely. I don’t think that I deserve that, do I?” Joanne walked into the kitchen and touched him on his right shoulder, smiling as he looked at her.

“I should have told the truth about Saturday night. I just thought that you’d go nuts and that I could go through with it without you ever finding out.” Peter Mitchell shrugged and smiled at Joanne.

“You should know that you can’t hide things from the Head Girl, naughty.” She snuggled into his right arm.

“I am really sorry Jo. I would never want to embarrass or make you feel uncomfortable – you know that baby.” Peter kissed her gently on the top of her head.

“How’s the bottom?” Joanne Wilson raised her head and looked into his blue eyes.

“Bloody sore. I haven’t dared to sit down all day. Never having that done to me ever again.” Peter Mitchell pretended to wince in pain as Joanne touched his bottom with her left hand.

“If you’re good I’ll put some more cream on it and give it a proper massage and then maybe, Miss Joanne will let you back into her bed tonight. Would you like that?” The twenty-year-old woman walked away and sat down at the small table in the kitchen.

“Yes Jo. I’ll be good.” He smiled, concentrating on the pan in front of him.

After they had eaten their meal, the couple sat at the kitchen table talking. It wasn’t long before the topic of Joanne’s summer job came up.

“Why couldn’t you tell me about what you were doing?” Peter asked, watching his girlfriend, who thought about how to answer the question.

“I guess I thought you wouldn’t be happy about what I was doing. Honestly, I went for an interview for an admin job and because of Storey I got the Correction Officer job.” She sipped at her glass of wine.

“Ms. Storey? What’s she got to do with this?” Peter Mitchell was confused.

Joanne Wilson smiled. She loved the fact that her boyfriend always referred to their former teachers as Miss, or Mrs. As opposed to herself who had always called them by their surnames, except Rebecca Mulligan, who she worshipped.

“My boss Karen is Storey’s cousin, small world, huh?” She laughed.

“Oh God. I just wish that you had told me about it that’s all. I wouldn’t have stopped you doing it if you really wanted to do it, that is?” He got to his feet and went to fetch the bottle of wine to refill Joanne’s glass.

“Really? I thought you’d go mad and that’s why I kept quiet. Plus, the fact there was no reason to tell you what I did as you would never see me at work.” She smiled as he topped up her glass,

“Guess not. Strange how things seem to screw up though, isn’t it?” Peter reached over the table and kissed her on the forehead.

“Best laid plans, and all that.” Joanne Wilson sighed.

“I’m okay with it, if you’re happy.” Peter Mitchell began to paw at Joanne’s white blouse.

“Really? I am happy. I actually enjoy the job and the money is much better than I could make anywhere else.” She relented and allowed Peter to place his left hand on her blouse, smiling as he squeezed her large right breast gently.

“Okay. Then that’s fine with me. Are you keeping it on after we go back to Uni?” By this time, he had stood up and was leaning over Joanne, kissing her cheek.

“Yes. Going part-time once I get my timetable arranged at Uni. It’s £20 an hour so the money will help me keep my debts under control.” She continued trying to ignore her boyfriend’s attention.

“Great. You can buy me a better Christmas present than you did last year.” He laughed as she moved away and got to her feet.

“Oh really?” Joanne stood there with her hands on her hips, smiling at Peter before continuing.

“Up those stairs young man and when I get to my room you had better be face down on my bed and wearing absolutely nothing.” Joanne Wilson pointed to the hall way with her right hand and watched as Peter Mitchell hurtled towards the stairs.

Joanne returned to the kitchen and finished her glass of wine before walking slowly up the stairs. She went into the bathroom and picked up a tube of Aloe Vera gel before opening the door to her bedroom. Once inside, she found Peter, as instructed, naked and face down on her bed. She sat down to his right-hand side and opened the tube of gel, squirting a small amount onto her right hand. Before Joanne began massaging Peter’s bottom, she stared at the four deep red lines that had been imprinted on his bottom by Kelli Seagrave’s cane.

The young Correction Officer smiled as she listened to her boyfriend’s satisfied moans as the cooling gel soothed his sore bottom. Once she had finished, she closed the tube of gel and threw it on her bedside table. Peter sat up and kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue exploring Joanne’s warm mouth. She responded and put her arms around him, moaning as she felt his hands touching her between her legs.

Within moments, Joanne Wilson had removed her work blouse, bra, skirt and knickers and Peter Mitchell climbed on top of her. She was extremely turned on and moist and her boyfriend’s large cock slipped inside her effortlessly. The length and width of Peter’s cock always meant that the ex-Head Girl always came to orgasm quickly, and she moaned with pleasure, digging her fingernails into his back as she came. Peter continued to move up and down, touching every inch of his girlfriend’s vagina. Joanne came again before Peter Mitchell finally squirted inside her. He exhaled heavily and smiled before collapsing on the bed.

They lay in bed for an hour afterwards, touching and cuddling one another. Joanne Wilson sat up and rested on her elbow, looking down at her boyfriend who lay there looking at her.

“Pete you know I’ve forgiven you right?” She said seriously.

He took a moment to think about this before replying to her, touching and playing with her large breasts at the same time.

“Yes. I love you too.” Peter smiled and kissed Joanne’s nipples.

“Well, I feel that you need to learn a lesson from all this. Not the drinking thing – but a lesson about what happens when you upset me.”

Peter Mitchell stopped playing with Joanne’s breasts and looked at her. Worried.

“What do you mean Jo?” He asked as she stroked his shaven head.

“Well, you need to know who’s in charge in our relationship and I feel that you need that point re-enforcing after Saturday’s events.” Joanne Wilson moved her left hand under the sheets, located Peter’s penis and started stroking it gently.

“Thanks Jo.” Peter Mitchell smiled as he thought he was going to get a treat from his girlfriend.

“Oh no, naughty boy. Not that today. I mean, that when you are healed, say four- or five-weeks’ time, then I’m going to give you a punishment to put you back in your place, is that understood?” She shot him a serious look.

“Why? I’ve learned my lesson Jo. Honestly.” He said almost pleadingly.

“Maybe. You may have learned about drinking too much but you still haven’t learned that I make the rules here. If you break Miss Joanne’s rules, then she will punish you.” She moved her hands from his erect penis to his balls and continued to stroke them with her fingers.

“A play punishment?” Peter asked.

“No. I was thinking of inviting Rebecca down for a weekend and we will punish you for your bad behaviour.” Joanne Wilson smiled. She was desperate to see her ex-Form Mistress again.

“Miss Mulligan? Why?” Peter Mitchell sat up and looked worried.

“Well, she’s lovely and I need her to get me some implements from school to use on your cute little arse. Plus, I don’t think you would accept Kelli coming around here and helping me discipline you, would you?” Joanne took her hand from Peter’s balls and got out of bed.

Peter Mitchell stayed in Joanne’s bed for a while as she dressed and went downstairs. He liked Rebecca Mulligan, but did not fancy being put over the young music teacher’s knee and smacked while Joanne watched, and probably laughed at him. Still, it was probably weeks’ away and maybe Joanne would be so busy with work and University that she would forget about the idea. He felt his still hot bottom and winced as he touched one of the welts that had formed since his punishment that morning.

“It couldn’t be as bad as what I’ve gone through today.” He smiled to himself.