Trio For Three Voices. Part One. free porn video

TRIO PART ONE.

Caught red-handed, punishment and the ministering angel.

Mistress Agnes’s Tale.

I knew as soon as I came in from work that something was up. I could almost smell the sense of guilt and shame that wafted from the kitchen along with that of garlic and herbs. I sighed and thought, “what has she done this time?” She had been acting a little strangely for a couple of days and I could feel an impending confession coming at some point.

She must have heard the door closing as I heard a gasp and an urgent, “Mistress?” come from the kitchen. I didn’t reply but looked around the room. It was stiflingly hot as there was an unseasonal and totally unnecessary log fire burning in the grate. My armchair had been pulled close to it and my favourite slightly battered and worn moccasin slippers had been placed in front. Sheri burst into the room drying her hands on a towel which she tossed behind her. She was naked except for a short white apron which just about protected her small breasts. She immediately knelt at my feet. Now I knew that something was wrong. We usually dispense with formalities like that except when we are having a session so to see it in front of me and unasked for meant there was some reason for it.

“Mistress, welcome home. I hope you had a good day at work.”

I remained silent as I unbuttoned my jacket and she stood and fussed around me helping me to take it off. I began to relax after a hard day’s work. I walked over to my chair and pointedly dragged it back away from the fire before sitting down and leaning back. She immediately fell to her knees again and untied my shoes before gently taking them off. She gave each foot a kiss before pulling my slippers on.

“Why have you lit the fire? It’s not needed and it’s a complete waste of logs.”

“I …err … thought it made the room more … homely and welcoming.”

“It also makes it unbearably hot,” I said with a certain amount of venom in my voice.

“I’m sorry Mistress, I thought it made the room nice for you.”

I could take no more of her silliness. “Right, you silly girl what have you done this time. I can read your guilt like a book.”

“Mistress, I’m really sorry it was an accident, I promise. I didn’t mean anyone to see.”

Suddenly I was both puzzled and intrigued. “See what, girl? Who and what and when? And don’t lie to me.”

Her eyes went to the floor and her voice became a whisper. “It was last Monday, Mistress. At work. I was trying to work but I couldn’t sit comfortably. You had flogged me the night before and I was still raw.”

I smiled to myself. I remembered it well. She had burnt the main course and then served lumpy custard with an apple pie that was almost too tart to eat. It was one of her little tricks. I knew what she was up to, deliberately doing something naughty just so I would punish her, and I sometimes indulged her. So, I had flogged her, possibly a little more harshly but I felt she deserved it. The fact that she couldn’t sit down properly afterwards is neither here nor there.

“You deserved that, and you know it. So, what happened?”

“I’d taken some of your special salve in to work with me. I knew you wouldn’t mind. Half way through the morning I went to the Ladies and put some on which helped a little. I was almost finished, just rubbing the last little bit in. I never heard the door open. First thing I knew was a “oh my god what happened to you?” It was Marie who sits at the next desk to me.”

“She caught you with your panties down?” I said mockingly.

“I pulled them up and pulled my skirt back down straight away, Mistress.”

“You didn’t even have the sense to go into a stall and close the door. It sounds to me as though you were deliberately trying to be seen. What did you tell her?”

“Nothing much, I just ran past her out of there. But she kept giving me looks all morning so at lunchtime I had to tell her the truth.”

“You stupid girl how many times have I told you to keep quiet. Other people have strange ideas about our activities.”

“Honestly, Mistress, she seemed ok with it once I’d explained everything.”

“I think you might be going in with another sore bottom this Monday as well. How could you be so thoughtless. Now, serve dinner. We’ll speak of this later.”

And she stumbled to her feet and went off, shamefacedly, to the kitchen. The meal, when it came, was much better than that which had started this whole sorry episode, but I knew I had to be firm with her. That night she slept on the floor at the foot of the bed and most of the next day she was kept busy about the house while I sat in the sunshine reading a book and dozing. For dinner I ordered pizza from the local takeaway and made her eat it kneeling on the floor instead of sat at the table. After dinner I stood up and told her to follow me and led her into the dungeon.

To be fair it is a dungeon in name only as we have no cellar at this house. It is simply one of the downstairs rooms converted. I have various items and pieces of equipment in there. An old vaulting horse I’d bought at an auction when a local private school closed down. A high-backed chair that has a seat that could be split to form a V. Against one wall was a St. Andrew’s cross and I decided to use that tonight. I simply pointed at it and she walked over and stood against it, face to the wall, lifting her arms and spreading her legs. No words were needed, it was a time-honoured ritual. I strapped her to it with wide leather cuffs and walked over to my toy cupboard. I selected a couple of floggers from my collection and walked back to her. There were still a few faded marks left over from last weekend but mostly she had healed well. Such is the value of youthful skin.

Finally, I broke the silence, “You know I have to do this and why, don’t you.”

“Yes, Mistress, I was very stupid.” Her voice trembled, and a quiver went up her thigh and across her left buttock.

“Stupid, indiscrete, and a blatant display of exhibitionism. And you endangered the life we have. There are probably more but those four will do for now. I think six for each will be about right. That’s twenty-four in total. You know the routine by now, count each stroke and thank me for each.”

She mumbled something which I took to be a ‘yes’, so I laid one of the floggers down and hefted the other in my hand. Then I started the process and I didn’t hold back. Last weekend I’d given her twenty and been fairly mild with her but today I was annoyed. She needed to know that. By number eight I could hear the sob in her voice as she struggled to maintain the count. I ignored that and carried on. When I reached fifteen I stopped briefly. I needed a change of scene. I unclipped her ankles and then her wrists. She could barely stand up but managed to turn around and found the strength to lift her arms allowing me to strap her back in. She seemed grateful for the support the cuffs gave her. I pulled each leg to the side and fastened her ankles again. She winced as her bottom came in contact with the wooden cross. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks tear-streaked.

“What number are we on, girl?” I asked her.

I saw her take a deep breath before replying, forcing out the words.

“Number sixteen is next, Mistress.”

“Good, you have kept count. Another nine to go then.”

I put the flogger I had been using down on the table and swapped it for the slightly lighter one. It had fewer tails than the first one, but each tail could sting more. I lifted my arm and laid the first strike on her left breast. Even though she must have known what was coming she jumped and there was a long pause before she managed “sixteen, thank you Mistress.”

I laid another strike on her right breast and then alternated two more on each. They both reddened quite nicely, and the nipples stood hard and proud. I paused before delivering the final three blows. Twirling the flogger in a circle I brought it upwards between her legs and onto her pussy lips with as much force as I could muster. Her eyes had been closed and this took her by surprise and I was satisfied to hear her yelp. The “twenty-two” almost didn’t make it. I delivered the same twice more and we were finished. I sat down on a chair and watched her carefully. Tears squeezed out from behind her eye-lids and she was sniffling quietly. Her breathing slowly eased as little tremors coursed back and forth like tiny earthquakes across her skin.

After I’d rested for a while I went to her and released her from her restraints. She almost collapsed, and I held her up until her legs became strong enough to support her weight. I let her lean on me as I led her out of the dungeon and slowly up the stairs. I placed her gently on the bed in the spare room and covered her with the duvet. By the time I reached the door I think she was already asleep. I went back downstairs and sat for a while by the empty fireplace. She’d done well, she has to take credit for that but there was still the problem that she had leaked the nature of our special relationship in her office.

In the end I went to bed and although I had found the flogging quite arousing I chose to ignore that feeling and eventually fell asleep. When I woke the next morning it was to sunshine, bird song and the sound of industry from the kitchen below. I got out of bed reluctantly, showered and dressed. I went downstairs and had barely sat at the dining table before Sheri appeared with a steaming cup of coffee. She was still naked apart from the small apron I insisted she wore when working in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mistress,” she said brightly, “your usual breakfast?”

I smiled and nodded to her and she turned and left. I sat back and savoured what must be the best coffee of any day, the freshly brewed first one. I was still pondering the same problem, what to do about Sheri’s work colleague.

I spent most of the day outside sitting in the shade of my favourite tree, an apple tree, old but still very reliable. Even now at the start of what promised to be a good summer I could already see the baby fruit beginning to show. It promised to be a good harvest. I tried to read but my mind kept returning to the problem at hand, what to do about this Marie? There was a little brightness in that she hadn’t gone hysterical and thrown accusations of abuse around although I was still unclear what Sheri had given her as explanation.

After a light lunch of salad, I called Sheri into the garden and made her kneel on the grass facing me. She looked unsure and a little nervous.

“Well my girl, you have produced a problem, have you not?” I said and then gestured to silence her when she tried to speak. “The question was rhetorical. Not only have you put our lifestyle in jeopardy, but you have also put my career at risk. But you have paid for that last night and I guess you are feeling the soreness today. Now, tell me about this Marie.”

“She’s a colleague I work with, Mistress. She sits at the next desk. We get on really well.”

“Has she worked there long?”

“About six weeks, Mistress.”

“Describe her.”

Until now Sheri’s eyes had been fixed on a patch of grass just in front of her, but she now looked up as though the question had taken her off guard.

“Err … she’s tiny, Mistress, certainly shorter than me and is very pretty. Very skinny with blonde hair and lovely green eyes.”

“You fancy her?”

Sheri hesitated before shyly answering, “maybe a little, Mistress.”

“And does she realise that? Or maybe she has made moves on you?”

“No, Mistress, you know I would never let anything happen.”

“I would hope not,” I said sternly and paused before continuing, “how did she react when she saw your marks. Was she shocked or angry?”

“Not really, Mistress, I think she was surprised and then caring towards me.”

“And how did you explain them?”

“I didn’t really, Mistress, not at first anyway. I was so shocked at being caught I simply ran out of the room. Later, at lunchtime, she asked me, and I had to admit they were a punishment.”

“And her reaction to that?”

“It wasn’t what I expected, Mistress, she just nodded and seemed to accept it.”

“Interesting,” I said, “now go, I need to think. You have dinner to prepare.”

She stood up and walked off back to the house. Looking at her from behind I was thrilled to see the brightness of her red bottom. I had laid into her quite hard last night. I spent the afternoon mulling things over until a plan started to form.

After dinner, which Sheri had done a very decent job of, I retired to my armchair and called her to kneel in front of me.

“I will speak, and you will listen, understood?”

She nodded looking slightly puzzled.

“You still have that jar of salve I gave you?” Again, she nodded. “Good, you will make sure you take it to work tomorrow. And it will be a no panties day and wear a dress or a skirt? Clear so far?” Another nod.

“At some suitable time during the day you will go to the ladies again to apply the salve but this time you will ask Marie to go with you to help. Make sure you use a cubicle. Being found by one person is bad enough. You will ask Marie to help apply the salve. If she is ok with that then you will tell her where else the flogger kissed you. What happens then is up to you and Marie with one proviso. If it goes the way I think and hope it will you are not allowed to come. Understand?”

She looked at me with eyes wide but nodded her assent nonetheless.

“You will give me a detailed report when you return home in the evening. Be careful not to arouse suspicion among your other colleagues. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Mistress, but …”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand and dismissed her. I intended to keep her in denial until next weekend at least, maybe longer. I knew she both hated and loved when I refused to allow her an orgasm. She was an amazing sight to behold when I finally allowed it. I smiled to myself.

I let her sleep at the foot of the bed that night and I drifted off to sleep nervously hoping that my plan would not backfire. In the morning I check to make sure she had conformed to the ‘no panties’ rule and that she had the pot of balm in her bag and then sent her off to work. I lingered at home for a while before getting in the car and driving off to my own job. I was excited about this evening and what she would report back to me.

**

Sherri’s Tale.

I was terrified when I heard the door of the ladies close and a gasp from whoever it was that had come in. Without turning around, I pulled up my panties and tugged my skirt back down and fled from the scene, briefly catching sight of Marie’s shocked look.

When she came back into the office and sat at the next desk she looked at me oddly. One o’clock came, and I stood up ready to go for lunch. As I did so she leaned over and whispered, “come to lunch with me. We need to talk.”

Feeling trapped I followed her meekly out of the building. We had both brought lunch with us and, as the sun was warm, she headed for the local park and found a bench. I tried to keep a space between us, but she shuffled along until our arms were touching.

“I want the truth,” she immediately demanded, “what were all those marks about? And don’t tell me you fell over because I won’t believe you.”

All of a sudden, the strain of keeping the secret became too much and I burst into tears and confessed it all. Yes, I had been beaten and yes, by my girlfriend and yes, I had deserved it and finally yes, I had loved it. To my surprise she didn’t seem shocked. She didn’t ask much more, letting it slowly sink in.

For the rest of the week whenever I returned from a visit to the toilet she would smile at me and give me a conspiratorial wink. She also asked more questions over lunch and slowly, bit by bit, more details of my life emerged. What had I done to deserve it? Was it a regular thing? Was it a free choice for me to stay there? That sort of thing. I tried to give out as little information as I could get away with, but she had the knack of asking just the right questions.

When Friday evening finally came around and I could head home for the weekend I knew I was in trouble. I tried to make things nice for Mistress, but I went over the top and simply got into more trouble and made it obvious something was wrong. When she questioned me, I knew I had to tell the truth. I knew that many people not only didn’t understand our lifestyle but also regarded it alongside domestic abuse and I had endangered all that so quite rightly Mistress was angry.

Sleeping on the hard-wooden floor was only the beginning of my inevitable punishment. I did have a blanket and at least the night was warm, so I didn’t suffer too much. The next day was one of stony silences and I tried to busy myself around the house and stay relatively invisible while she sat reading in the garden. I knew my time would come after dinner.

And it came with a vengeance! I was marched to our ‘dungeon’ and strapped to the cross. I knew my bottom would suffer again. And, wow, did it suffer! Her blows seemed to be harder than usual and really, really stung. By half way through I was sobbing, I couldn’t help myself. She stopped at fifteen and turned me round. I nearly collapsed, and I was thankful for the wrist restraints as they took some of my weight. My eyes were tight shut when the first of several blows bit into my breasts. A brief pause and then the first cut into my pussy to me completely by surprise. Mistress so very rarely hit me there and it made me realise quite how much in the wrong I was. When it was over I had no strength left and simply hung by my wrists. Eventually I was released, and it was only Mistress that kept me from collapsing to the floor. Somehow, with her help, I stumbled upstairs and was put to bed in the spare room.

I made sure to get up as soon as I woke and start preparing breakfast. It seemed as though every inch of me hurt as I moved. Mistress came down and seemed in a much better mood which was a relief. She then spent the day in the garden only allowing me to be by her during lunch and dinner apart from a short spell when she interrogated me about Marie and exactly what had happened.

After dinner she called me to her and outlined her plan. I was both shocked and terrified. What if Marie reported me? Or someone else caught the pair of us? But I dared not argue, Mistress’s mind was made up. The next morning, I was checked for no knickers and sent off to work.

I was really nervous when I walked into the office. Marie was already sat at her desk and smiled her usual friendly smile at me. She said nothing at first and we both got on with our work. Towards the middle of the morning as she was nursing a cup of coffee she leant over and asked me quietly how was my weekend. I told her it was fine hoping she’d accept that, but I was wrong.

“Did you get punished again?” she asked with a hint of conspiracy in her voice.

I gulped and replied, “yes.” I knew it was now or never and it was an instruction I had to follow. “I need to apply some salve.” I looked around the office slyly. No one seemed to be taking any notice of us. Taking a deep breath, I asked her, “can you come and help?”

“Sure, I’d be delighted. I’ll go first then give me a couple of minutes before you follow me.” She winked at me and walked off.

I was amazed at how easy it had been. I shuffled a few papers and then picked up my bag and walked out of the room. In the ladies she was standing waiting for me by an open cubicle. I smiled at her shyly.

“Don’t want to risk getting caught again do you. Now get in here and let me tend to your needs.”

I squeezed past her into the cubicle and she followed me before closing and locking the door. She leant back against the wall and looked at me. Although I was taller than her I felt intimidated.

“So, what was the problem this weekend? Not another burnt offering?”

“Um … you were,” I managed to mutter.

“Me? What did I do?”

“I mean … it was for allowing myself to get caught and for telling you what had happened.”

“Oh dear, better let me take a look at the damage then. Turn around and bend over.”

I obediently turned around and used the toilet seat to support myself. Without asking she pulled up the hem of my summer dress and stood gazing down at my battered bottom.

“Mmmm no knickers, I like it. If anything, it looks even redder than last week.”

I jumped when her hands first landed on my skin and she started to tenderly explore the sensitive area.

“Have you got your magic lotion?”

I nodded and pointed to my bag. She rummaged inside and quickly found it. I could see little of what was going on, but I heard the cap unscrew. The next thing I knew was that the soothing balm was being massaged into my bottom. It felt wonderful. It was always a relief but this time, with someone else doing it, it felt more thrilling and a little bit naughty. She was not particularly gentle, but her massage was effective as the sting began to ease. At one point she pulled my cheeks apart and her fingers delved into the cleft and my arsehole was stroked quite deliberately. She even strayed perilously close to my pussy. I felt myself begin to be aroused by her ministering hands as she became more brazen with her explorations. I needed to stop things quickly if only for a brief respite. I knew what would come next. It had to, Mistress had given me instructions.

“Marie …” I sensed her pause, “my bottom wasn’t the only place that was punished.” I let that sink in.

Eventually she spoke. “Indeed? Better show me then.”

Her hands came off my bottom and my skirt started to fall back into place. Suddenly I felt brazen. This whole thing was going the way I knew Mistress had hoped. I stood up and turned around. She was standing back against the wall, the pot of salve in one hand. Almost seductively I pulled the shoulder straps of my dress to one side and pulled down the top. My battered breasts were on display, the nipples already hard.

“Oh my, she did work you over, didn’t she?”

She dipped her fingers into the pot once more and placed it on the narrow shelf on the wall beside her before working the lotion into both hands. She reached forward and started to massage my breasts. I felt my nipples rasping against her palms as she kneaded it into the reddened areas. Suddenly she pinched my nipples between thumbs and forefingers and muttered, “these are nice,” under her breath. She was beginning to excite me, and I could feel my pussy getting wetter with each passing minute. Suddenly she pinched my nipples hard and lifted me up. I yelped in pain and surprise.

“Is this it or is there anywhere else that needs my attention?”

I blushed deeply which told her everything. She let go of my nipples and reaching down she pulled up my dress and gathered it round my waist.

“Hold that,” she ordered me and stepped back to inspect me down there. “Mmm nicely shaved, I like to see that in a girl and wet by the look of it.”

She reached out and ran a finger between my pussy lips and I nearly collapsed. She continued to explore me, and I could sense my orgasm slowly approaching. When her fingers went inside me I knew it was time to stop.

I pulled away and pleaded with her, “p-p-please stop. I’m not allowed to cum. Please.”

“Not allowed? Ahhh has she told you that?

I nodded, and she looked at me. I watched as she lifted her fingers to her nose and inhaled deeply.

“Such a pity but we’d better not go against her ladyship. You being punished yet again would be so sad. I’d better get back to work. I’ll leave you to tidy yourself up.”

With that she leant forward and gave me a gentle and lingering kiss on the lips before she unlocked to door and left. I immediately shut it again and re-locked it and sat down on the toilet seat. I could hear her running the taps outside, presumably washing her hands. I was shaking like a leaf. The truth is I was a frustrated wreck but secretly I was proud of myself. I had done everything Mistress had asked of me even as far as to stop things when I least wanted it to stop. When I eventually stopped shaking I pulled up the top of my dress and made myself half decent. Standing up I tugged the hem down and straightened myself out. It was then that I discovered that my pot of balm was missing. I hunted through my bag but there was no sign of it. With a sinking feeling I knew that this meant that Marie had taken it. There was not much I could do without causing a scene, so I resigned myself to whatever might follow. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked and opened the door. Luckily the place was empty, and I washed my hands and face to bring myself back to normal.

**

Marie’s Tale.

Wow, what an odd week! It all started when I went to the loo quite innocently. What I was confronted with when I opened the door stopped me in my tracks and made me gasp. At first, I didn’t realise who it was as my eyes were fixated on the naked bottom on display. I may be young, but I haven’t led a sheltered life, and this was by no means the first bottom I’d ever seen, male or female. What was different was the colour of it, a bright almost luminous deep pink. Its owner was suddenly aware that she wasn’t alone and scrabbled to pull her skirt down before turning, roughly pushing past me and dashing out of the door. I recognised at once that it was Sherri and her face had a look of horror on it.

I stayed there for a while trying to make sense of what I’d seen but I was simply too confused. When I finally returned to my desk Sherri had her head buried in paper work and didn’t look up so, for the moment I left it at that although my mind was still in a turmoil. By lunchtime I could take it no longer and quietly suggested to Sherri that we have lunch together. With downcast eyes and a tremor in her voice she agreed. We went to the local park and found an out of the way bench. I sat down, and she chose a spot as far away as she could get. For me, this was just being silly, so I slid along the bench until I was right next to her. I wanted her to know that, whatever had happened to her, I was there for her and she could confide in me.

“So, what happened?” I asked to start the conversation going, “Who did that to you?”

“M ... m ... my girlfriend,” she replied but so quietly I had to strain to hear her.

“The bitch!” I exclaimed, “what the fuck had you done to deserve it?”

I had suspected for some time that Sherri was not into men, so it came as no shock to discover she had a girlfriend, but I had never guessed that the relationship was an abusive one.

“I burnt the dinner.” Her voice trailed off when she realised how lame that statement sounded.

“But why?”

“I deserved it and ... errr … it’s something we do together.”

This last utterance had me completely puzzled, but slowly, with a lot of prompting, she began to explain. The peculiar lifestyle she and her girlfriend had, peculiar to me anyway. She told me how she was Ok with it all, in fact how much she loved it and needed it and that she held no grudges. By the time we returned to the office I had managed to get a little more out of her but was even more confused than ever. She seemed happier and less mouse-like and we went our separate ways at the end of the day with a cheery “Bye!”

That evening, as soon as I could get away from Mum and Dad, I went upstairs to my bedroom and started to surf the internet. What I found amazed me. The more I looked the more I found. For example, what a flogger looked like. Sherri had told me that this is what had been used on her. It looked really horrible. I found an online shop that sold all these things and I scrolled through their pages, my eyes getting wider all the time. I also found some videos which showed them being used some of which ended with a seemingly real and massive orgasm for the poor girl suffering the punishment and a final loving scene of hugs and kisses. This surprised me quite a lot, but it began to colour my view on what was happening. I finally forced myself to log off and go to bed, but sleep was hard to come by. I was tormented by images of naked women being flogged or spanked or caned, and I tried to imagine what some of the other things I’d seen for sale could possibly be used for. I was too confused even to try and bring myself off which is my usual remedy for sending me to sleep.

All the rest of that week we went every lunchtime to the park and sat on ‘our’ bench. The weather was glorious and luckily the bench was in the shade of a large tree. Little by little as we chatted Sherri began to open up and she explain more of the dynamic between her and her girlfriend and each time I discovered more and more. Every evening I spent in my room looking up things I had come across during our chats. There was no way I fully understood what was going on but my fears that Sherri was the victim of domestic abuse began to fade away. In bed at night I tried to imagine what it must be like to feel the sting of a flogger or a cane. I also wondered what I would feel if I held one in my hand and could use it on some poor girl’s helpless bottom.

When Friday came we parted with a hug and I wished her a pleasant weekend. I went home and spent most of my spare time doing more ‘research’. I called it that to excuse myself. In reality I was watching more videos and reading stories on various websites and I admit that it was beginning to get me excited.

When Monday came around Sherri greeted me with a grin and a cheery “Hi” which I took as a good sign. Throughout the morning, though, I noticed that she was squirming a little on her chair as though she couldn’t get comfortable. In the end I could stand it no longer and leaned across and asked her about it.

“Did you get punished again over the weekend?” I asked in as quiet a voice as I could manage. She blushed and gave me the smallest of nods. That explained why she was being so fidgety. What she said next shocked and surprised me and, as it turned out, changed things forever.

“I need to put some ointment on,” she whispered, not daring to look up, “will you come and give me a hand?”

It was difficult to control my feelings in the middle of a busy office, but I somehow managed it. She seemed about ready to burst into tears, so I decided to take control of the situation. I stood up and leant across her desk.

“I’ll go first. Follow me in a couple of minutes,” and I turned and walked out of the office and pushed open the door to the ladies. Luckily it was empty, and I walked to the furthest stall and opened the door and stood there waiting. A couple of minutes later the main door opened and Sherri walked in. I stepped aside and motioned her into the stall. When we were both safely inside with the door securely locked I turned to her. The stall was only tiny, but she was trying to stand as far away as possible a frightened look in her eyes.

“Better show me the damage,” I said, “turn around.”

She did so, and I pushed her forward until she was bent over, grasping the toilet seat. I pulled up her skirt and saw her bottom which was if anything even redder than I remembered from last week. I also noticed her lack of underwear which also shocked me. I tentatively reached out and touched the inflamed skin. She flinched but her movement was limited. I could feel the ripples on her skin and see the thin welts criss-crossing her bottom. There seemed to be hundreds of them all merging into one.

“Where’s the stuff you want putting on it?” I asked.

“In my bag,” she murmured in reply, and pointed to the floor.

I picked it up and rummaged through it and found the small pot of salve. I tossed the bag back on the floor and unscrewed the lid of the pot. A faint smell of strawberries hit my nose. I took a generous scoop in one hand then put the pot on the glass shelf next to me. I spread the salve across both hands and then, taking a deep breath, I started to rub it over her bottom. At first, she twitched and wriggled but slowly, as the salve did its job she calmed down. I took another helping from the pot and applied even more before I felt satisfied with the result and stood back. Slowly she straightened up but before turning to face me she muttered something that was too faint for me to hear. I took her by the arms and spun her round and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“She didn’t just punish my bottom this time,” she admitted shyly.

Images flashed into my mind of video clips I had watched of naked breasts being whipped and flogged.

“Better show me then,” I simply said.

Slowly she pulled aside the shoulder straps of her dress and tugged the top down to her waist. No panties and now no bra as well. Sherri had obviously decided to be minimal today. Decided or had that decision made for her? Although nowhere near as bad as her bottom her breasts were clearly redder than normal. I took another scoop of the salve and Sherri closed her eyes as I began to rub it over her breasts.

It was while I was doing this, while I was enjoying the feel of her hardened nipples against my palm that I began to admit to myself that I was getting really turned on. I can truthfully say that I was no expert when it came to sex although I wasn’t a virgin. Like most girls I knew I’d played around with my girlfriends at school and, since leaving, I’d been with a few men, more accurately boys, but nothing had quite clicked, and the earth never moved for me as the saying goes. But this … this was really getting me going.

I tried to concentrate on the job in hand and couldn’t resist giving her nipples a few hard tweaks. I was delighted when she responded by pushing her chest out and seemed to ask for more. Slippery though they were I managed to grip each nipple between a thumb and finger as yet another video image flashed into my head.

“Anywhere else?” I asked, pointedly squeezing her nipples even tighter, and she silently nodded. “Better lift your dress and sit down then. Can’t leave a job unfinished.”

She dutifully pulled her dress up to her waist and sat down on the toilet seat. I frowned at her and she took the hint and slowly spread her legs and I took in the splendid sight of her rather pretty pussy. The traces of the flogger were very faint, but her lips glistened with moisture. I took a small scoop of salve and placed my hand over her pussy and started to move my hand back and forth, my fingers slipping between her lips. I could see from her face and hear from her breathing that she was getting aroused. I’m no expert as I’ve said before, but I knew the signs of an oncoming orgasm. I gave into temptation and slipped a finger inside her. Suddenly, and to my surprise, she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away.

“No, stop, I mustn’t. Please,” she almost begged me.

“Mustn’t?” I asked, and then it dawned on me, “has she told you not to?” and she nodded and bit her lip.

“Was this all her plan?”

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice trembling.

“Better not disobey again then, girl. I think we both know what would happen.”

I turned my back to her and picked up the pot and screwed the lid back on carefully before slipping it into my pocket. I have no idea why I did that, but I thought it might come in useful later.

“I’ll leave you to sort yourself out,” I said as I unlocked the door and walked out. I heard it immediately close and re-lock behind me. I washed my hands and went back to work. At my desk I could still detect the not unpleasant aroma of strawberries on my hands. When Sherri eventually reappeared, she had difficulty looking me in the eye and buried herself in her paper work. At lunchtime we went to the park as usual, but we seemed to have some silent agreement not to talk about our morning adventure.

For the rest of the week our morning trip to the toilet became something of a ritual. I would take out the pot of salve and place it on my desk at which point she would blush and lower her eyes. There was no need for words. I always went first, and she would obediently follow a couple of minutes later. Slowly I started to become quite good at detecting an impending orgasm and out of respect I always stopped just before the moment. Poor Sherri must have been getting frantic from being denied her climax for so long. It went on all week and Sherri slowly healed and it was only on Friday that things took another turn.