Confessions 5 Alessandra fools Father Peter
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One spring day in 1922 Ann closed up the shop where she worked. She was keen to run her own shop but it would be a several years before a legacy from an aged aunt would allow her to do this. For the time being, aged just 20, she continued to learn the ropes from Mr and Mrs Hunter.
The next day she was closing up again but this time Mr and Mr Hunter were present. They called Ann to the storeroom at the back of the shop.
Ann entered and closed the door.
“Now, Ann, last night you forgot to lock the shop…” began Alf Hunter.
Ann went pale. She had been ticked off several times before for things like this. When she had arrived that morning the door was locked.
“PC Pludd found the door open on his rounds late last night and he called me to come back here” grunted Alf brusquely.
“So I think we need to discipline you, Ann” added Gertie Hunter his wife.
Ann was crestfallen and did not want her wages docked as she was saving every penny in the hope of opening her own shop one day.
“I think the best way is a sound caning, Ann” continued Gertie.
Ann looked at the floor. She knew where the cane would come from as the shop sold them and many parents were customers. She enjoyed re-stocking the umbrella stand where they were on display in the sop and sometimes in the storeroom has taken one out and handled it and flexed it.
“Yes, Mrs Hunter.
Alf fetched a wooden chair from the back of the storeroom and placed it by a shelf of supplies for their ironmonger shop. He gestured to Ann to approach the chair.
“Bend over” said Alf.
Ann’s head was spinning but she leaned over her back of the chair and held the front edge of the seat. Gertie lifted her dress and folded it out of the way. Ann felt very exposed. She had a flash-back to the three time her lovely housemistress had told her to stay behind after class and to report to her study. Each time that gorgeous woman had said she did not wish to have to give Ann corporal punishment but nevertheless she had done so and had caned Ann well. Each time she had six livid weals neatly placed on her bottom.
Now it was Gertie lifting her dress but Alf who was swishing the cane behind her. Alf looked at Ann’s youthful bottom in plain pale blue pants.
The next morning when Ann arrived, only Gertie was in the shop. In the storeroom Gertie ask Ann how she was feeling. Ann ran her hands down her bottom.
“Sore, Gertie.”
“Let’s take a look, dear” she said in a kindly way.
Ann blushed but lifted her dress and slipped her pants down.
“Bend forward, dear” said Gertie guiding her with a hand on her shoulder.
Ann bent forward and felt her pants going lower. Gertie studied the marks which were very obvious. She could see why the model of cane Alf used was a best seller in their shop and why the one they had at home spiced up their sex life. Gertie also admired Ann’s neat pussy and the copious black pubic hair between her legs; she must have a nice thick bush thought Gertie.
Ann stood and dressed.
“I hope that will remind you to lock up, Ann.”
“It will, Gertie.”
“Well let me give you a tip. I was caned many times when I started working in a shop before I met Alf and it helped me learn the job so, when you achieve your ambition to own a shop, my advice is to keep a cane handy for ay naughty shop girl or boy. Yes, we caned several newspaper delivery boys over the years and Veronica who worked here before you!”
“Thank you, Gertie, that will be useful advice.”
Gertie then handed Ann the cane that had been used across her bottom the previous day.
“Here, take this as a reminder and use it if needs be! We have others here for when we need to cane you again.”
Ann blushed and took the cane. Gertie and Alf did indeed have a cane handy for the eight other times Ann took a caning in the storeroom before she left their employment.
Twenty years later Ann had own shop. It was a busy ironmongers too but as the Second World War was raging she had a series of girls and boys working there as her regular girl had joined the forces. Now she had Clare who was a nice girl but a bit s**tty. Soon she would be off to join the ATS but in the meantime Ann did her best to keep her on the right lines stocking the shelves and serving customers.
One day Ann was walking past the railway station when a train pulled in and disgorged a lot of boys and their masters who had been evacuated from London. She watched the bedlam for a few minutes and carried on with her errands before heading home passing an empty cottage on a small hillside. She had noticed it had been empty for a while and thought she might take a look round sometime.
Later in the day a young master, Edward Hill, entered the cottage with one of his boys. They put some luggage including a cricket bag on the floor by the fireplace.
“Doubt there will be much time for cricket, Pemberton!” he chortled as he looked at his temporary home while the school settled into its new accommodation nearby.
“No, sir. It’s a bit dusty, sir” said Pemberton as he let out a loud sneeze.
He pulled out his white handkerchief and a packet of condoms fell to the floor.
The master picked them up. The packet was plain apart from a War Office marking on it.
“Explain, boy” he said tossing them onto a small table in the corner of the room.
“Oh, sir, we saw...um…a troop train came though while Jones and I were on the station last weekend, sir…and a soldier threw them to us…”
“I see. I think we can deal with this now, Pemberton!”
He opened his cricket bag and took out a supple cane designed for boys in the form above Pemberton but it would do.
“Bend over this armchair, Pemberton.”
Pemberton looked glum but stood by the old horse-hair filled chair and bent right over. His jacket was lifted and his tight bottom in thin underpants and grey trousers was exposed. Six stingers were given each making a crisp swish and crack on his cheeks. Pemberton let out a slight squeal each time the cane made its mark.
“Stand up.”
Pemberton stood and rubbed his bottom.
“Gosh, that was a nearly b**stly start in our new accommodation, sir!
“Nearly! Nearly, boy! Lower those trousers and bend over again!”
“But, sir!”
“Bend over!”
Pemberton lowered his trousers and bend over. Two more crisp strokes of the cane were given across his underpants.
“Stand up, Pemberton, and you can inform Jones what he can expect when he reports to me after prep this evening.”
The master watched Pemberton rub his bottom. He and Jones may be 18 now but they were not going to need those condoms for a while, he thought.
A few days later Ann decided to take a walk to the cottage as it was early closing. A customer had a said that a nice young master was lodging there having been evacuated from London. Ann recalled the hubbub on the station a several days earlier.
Around 3pm she knocked on the cottage door. A tall and very good looking young an opened the door. He had fair hair and blue eyes. He saw Ann on the doorstep and liked her slim figure and brown hair tied back in a plait.
Ann introduced herself and he invited her in. He said his name was Peter. Ann noticed he spoke very good English with a barely noticeable foreign hint of an accent that she could not quite place but he also had the habit of ending his sentences with ‘yes’.
“So you have been evacuated here from London with the boys. I saw your train arrive a few days ago. Someone told me there are French masters as well. Let’s hope their country will be free again soon.”
Peter was quick to pick up her thread.
“Yes, there are a number of foreigners among the staff. We are pleased to be in England though, yes!”
They both laughed.
“Nice little cottage” commented Ann looking out of the window towards the sea where a convoy was sailing by. She looked out of another window and saw workman a few fields away starting construction of a new airfield. She also noticed the cricket bag shoved in the corner.
“I doubt you will get much time for cricket” she commented.
Peter had already studied the bag he had found when he moved in.
“No, there is a war on, you know, yes!”
They laughed again.
Now Clare was proving a little problematic for Ann and she had to take her to task several times. She reminded her that discipline in the ATS would be strict and even warned her that she should take her in hand. One day Ann took out the cane that Gertie and Alf had given her many years ago and flexed it. She was certainly of the view that Clare deserved a sound caning but she had another idea.
That afternoon Ann walked down to see Peter. He was in the cottage and as she approached up the path he hid his powerful binoculars up the chimney breast. He welcomed Ann and invited her in. They sat on the old sofa.
“Peter, I know you are a master at the boys’ place that has moved to the big house over by the river but would you deal with my Clare for me?”
Ann explained what the problem was with Clare and Peter said he would be pleased to help but suggested she had a sound spanking first. Ann stood to go and thanked Peter.
“But, Ann, if you wish Clare to be spanked do you not think you should know what it is like too, yes?”
Ann was flustered.
“Well, Peter, I have been caned a number of times but a spanking can’t be that different…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Not spanked, eh? Yes, Ann, I think it would be for the best, yes.”
He sat on a wooden chair and beckoned her over.
Ann moved close to this lovely blond young man and went over his lap. Her skirt was lifted up and her bare legs and delicious bottom clad in pants was there to see. Peter began to spank her. His large hands spanked and spanked until thirty or more had been given. He glanced out of the window to watch another convoy go by at sea and gave Ann four more hard slaps.
Ann stood and rubbed her bottom. Peter smiled at her.
“Gosh, Peter, you really do spank well!”
A few minutes later at the door they kissed and Ann made her way home.
The next day Ann let Clare go early but with instructions to go to Peter’s cottage. He let her in and said she was expected. Like a school master he quizzed her about her reasons for being there. Clare told him about being late for work and other misdemeanours. Peter sat on the chair which was still where it had been when Ann was there.
Clare stood by his side and then hitched her dress up. Her pants were white and he saw her mons pubis pressing against the thin fabric. She went over his lap and he began spanking her. Clare was taken aback at how hard he spanked and she wriggled until he held her waist with his left arm. After fifty sound smacks she was allowed up.
“You were naughty so I spanked you, yes?” said Peter.
Clare looked at this fine young man as she caressed her sore bottom. Peter slid his hand up her bare legs and held her bottom. His touch was magical.
A few days alter Ann was passing and called in. Peter had been observing the work on the new airfield and the tall masts that were being erected.
They chatted and Ann told him that Clare had been much better since her spanking.
“And have you been good, Ann? Or do I need to spank you again, yes?” he chuckled as he held his hand out.
Ann paused then took his hand. She went over his lap and moments later he began to spank her bottom. Ann gasped loudly as her bottom reddened but then he slipped her pants down; Ann did not resist. Her cheeks grew redder and her pussy showed as her legs parted. Two fingers gently caressed her sensitive area.
When the spanking was over Ann stood red faced and pulled her pants up.
“I have a slipper too, Ann” he said standing and going to the cricket bag. Peter had wondered why there was just one leather soled slipper in there. He came back to Ann.
“Do bend over the chair.”
Ann’s bottom was hot but the sight of Peter holding the slipper made her bend over. Her dress went up and her pants came down. Peter eased her legs apart and admired the view. He gave her six firm smacks with the slipper making her grunt at each.
Ann stood and pulled her pants up.
“Gosh, Peter, I have never had the slipper before! Maybe Clare neds that next time?”
They hugged and kissed. Peter was lovely.
Ann blushed.
“I expect you cane well too, Peter, but I don’t suppose your boys appreciate your expertise.”
Peter smiled broadly as they hugged again.
Three days later Clare was sent to Peter again and she went over his lap for a sound spanking but was surprised when he stopped after just twenty or so spanks. He beckoned her to stand.
“Stand by the armchair, Clare, yes” he directed.
Clare stood where she was told and saw an old slipper on the seat. Peter unfastened her skirt which fell to the floor. She rubbed her bottom as Peter picked up the slipper.
“Bend over, Clare.”
Clare was very aroused by what had happened and bent down as she was told. The armchair gave her good support as Peter’s hand stroked her bottom. She did not resist as he slipped her pants down. Peter studied Clare’s pussy which was even hairier than Ann’s.
Clare felt the cold slipper touch her bare cheeks. The a dozen hard smacks landed making her yelp at each one. Her cheeks flattened and rebounded at each smack of the vintage slipper.
Peter helped her up. As she rubbed her bottom he looked at her large thick bush but Clare was more concerned about her bottom.
“Oh, Peter, that stings. You do know how to deal with a girl, don’t you!”
They hugged and his hands rubbed and squeezed her bottom then his right hand caressed her bush. Clare pressed her face onto his breast and sighed gently.
A week later, Ann was very cross as Clare had allowed the blackout curtains to remain open when she had lights on. The local Warden had threatened all sorts of things and Ann had to placate him. The next afternoon she strode purposefully up the road hoping to catch Peter at home.
Peter was at home and as he saw Ann approach he put his notebook under a loose floorboard. When inside, Ann sat on the sofa as Peter leaned against the door.
“Peter, I think…well…I really do think that Clare needs a caning. Would you be willing to do that?”
Peter stroked his chin.
“Yes, of course. Send her up here tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you, Peter. Six of the best will do her a lot of good.”
“And you, Ann, a caning like you took a spanking, yes?”
Prior to coming up to the cottage and asking Peter Ann had pondered this very point.
She looked at the floor.
“Yes. Yes, I think so, Peter.”
Peter went to the cricket bag and selected a cane with plenty of spring in it.
“Remove your skirt and bend over the armchair, Ann” he said pointing with the cane.
Ann faced the chair and let her skirt drop to the floor. As she bent over her pants tightened across her cheeks.
Peter waited until she had settled and tapped her bottom with the cane.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oh, my word!” yelped Ann.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oooooh!” she squealed.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ahhhh!”
Peter tucked the cane under his arm and peeled down Ann’s pants. Three vivid red lines crossed her bare bottom.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ouch!”
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oooh! Ahhhh!”
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ouch!” she yelped.
Ann lay over the chair grimacing at the stinging on her bottom. Peter put the cane away.
She stood and clutched her bare bottom revealing her small bush to Peter. She hugged him and they kissed.
Then Peter swept her up in his arms and took her upstairs. They stood by his bed and kissed for several minutes as his hands fondled her bottom making her wriggle. Ann unbuttoned Peter’s shirt and removed it from his muscular body. He removed her blouse and bra and kissed her breasts. Ann’s blouse was on the floor, her bra on a chair nearby and her skirt, knickers and sandals downstairs.
Peter unfastened his belt and trouser and lowered them then stepped out of them. Ann lowered his underpants and knelt to kiss his penis. Rapidly Peter’s erection stood tall and rigid. Ann kissed and licked it then took it in her mouth and worked hard on it. From his position standing above Ann he could see a long convoy heading into the port just up the coast.
After a couple of minutes Peter helped Ann stand. He reached over to the bedside cupboard and took out a packet of condoms bearing the War Office marking. He took one out and handed it to Ann. She placed it on the tip of his erection and rolled it down as far as it would go.
He laid her on the bed and kissed her breasts then her navel. Parting her legs he nibbled her pubic hair and probed her pussy with his tongue. Energetically his tongue worked on Ann’s intimate area then he moved and pushed the tip of his penis against her labia. With little effort Peter slipped inside Ann and slowly began to move in and out. Love making went on for some minutes then he slipped out and turned Ann onto her front. He raised her hips and slipped in her from behind. His thighs slapped against her sore bottom for a minute or so before he could hold on no longer and he shot his load just as Ann had a noisy orgasm.
Above the sound of Ann gasping and groaning Peter was aware of an aircraft landing on the new airfield; he noted it was the first to land there.
Clare could not visit the next day but she did go to the cottage in the evening two days later. Peter was expecting her so hid his notebook, with a series of aircraft types and numbers written in it, beneath the loose floorboard.
“Now, Clare, I think that your naughty behaviour means a caning today. Have you had the cane before?”
Clare felt he sounded every bit the schoolmaster.
“Um…yes, sir…twice...three strokes of the cane…and…the next time four.”
“Well this time, six of the best, I think, yes? Maybe and extra two if you rub your bottom.”
Clare looked glum.
“Yes, Peter” she mumbled.
Peter was so beautiful and she had found the spankings arousing. A caning seemed the logical next development and now he really was going to do it. Clare watched as Peter bend over to select the same cane that had marked Ann so well.
“Do bend over the armchair” he said.
Clare expected this and faced the chair.
“But lower your skirt first” he added.
Moments later the skirt fell to the floor and Clare stood there with her knickers on show. She bent over.
Peter folded her blouse out of the way. Her buttocks offered a prime target once again.
Swiiish-craaack!
Clare barely uttered a sound so Peter upped his game.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
A gasp was heard.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ouch!”
Peter peeled her pants down. Clare did not resist but felt the cool air flood over her sore cheeks. Her hairy pussy was on show but Clare did not mind – only her throbbing bottom was of concern.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ahhhh!”
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ouch!”
Swiiiiiiish-craaaaaaack!
“Yeouch!”
Clare jumped up and hopped round the rom holding her bottom.
The cane was put in the bag.
Clare jigged for a couple of minutes then came to Peter and hugged him. She kissed his face.
A few minutes later Clare was naked lying face down on Peter’s bed. He kissed her from her neck to her toes then gave special attention to her striped bottom. He pushed his face between her lower cheeks to enjoy her pussy. Clare turned over and looked at Peter as he knelt on the bed. His erection was huge and solid. He leaned forward and kissed her bush then used his tongue on her intimate parts. Clare was gasping and clearly very aroused.
He got off the bed and Clare watched him open the drawer on the bedside table. He showed her a condom packet. Clare took it and opened it. She sat on the side of bed and cupped his balls. Peter’s erection was strong like a boyfriend she had known until a few weeks ago. She kissed the tip and played her tongue on it before taking it in her mouth. Clare’s lips closed on this ramrod and she moved up and down slowly Peter strained trying not to cum but then Clare stopped. She opened the packet and rolled the condom down his penis.
Clare stood and kissed Peter. Her hands rested on his chest. They hugged as his erection pressed against her belly then Peter reached behind and grasped her bottom and lifted her. Clare wrapped her legs round his waist as he lowered her to bed.
Clare groaned as Peter pressed against her intimate area and slowly entered her. Lovemaking was energetic and noisy. A couple of times Peter glanced out of the cottage window as the sun started to go down. His thrusting became faster as did Clare’s squeals and groan
A few minutes later they lay silently on the bed. Peter looked at the clock on the bedside table.
Twenty minutes later they kissed by the cottage door and he watched Clare walked gaily down the path. Quickly he gathered a few items and stuffed them into a small knapsack. The cane was replaced in the bag which was hastily put in the cupboard under the stairs.
Soon it was dusk and in the gathering darkness he left the cottage, closed the door and hurried down the path. He saw no-one as he walked briskly through the woods towards the beach. He lay in the bracken on the edge of the wood. Out at sea a couple of quick flashes of a lamp were seen. He replied with his torch. A small rubber boat was rowed towards the beach.
The next day Ann walked passed the cottage and saw a constable not known to her guarding the gate. She continued without diverting to ask why he was there; local gossip would ensure she would hear in due course. That evening she came back past and saw no-one. She entered the cottage. The place had been turned over with the small amount of furniture left in disarray. The cricket bag was on the table with the contents alongside it. Ann wondered why the owner had not been back for it. She gathered the canes and slipper and took them home. The next day she met Edward Hill by the cottage. He mentioned he had been evacuated with the school. Ann assumed he, not Peter, was the owner of the bag. She thought he was very attractive and invited him over for tea the next day.
Twenty years later there was an exhibition in the Town Hall to mark two decades since the end of the war. It focussed on the local experience. Ann walked round the displays and stopped at a display with a photo of the cottage. There was also a cricket bag with a set of stumps, a bat, pads and several balls. There was a pair of binoculars allegedly found in the chimney after the war and a part used packet of army issue condoms. Another sign mentioned a local fable that the cottage had been used by a spy but this was disputed.
At home above Ann’s shop, Edward Hill awaited the return of his partner Ann. When she entered, he kissed the older woman 12 years his senior.
“Your old cricket bag was in the exhibition, Edward. Why did you never reclaim it?” she asked.
“Wasn’t mine. It was unloaded from the train in error and we never bothered to return it to the lost property office. Mind you, those canes came in very handy!”
“Indeed, Edward. Would you….”
Edward went to the dresser and reached behind. He took out a springy cane.
As he turned Ann was bending over the back of an armchair with her dress hitched right up and her tight pants protecting her lovely mature backside.
Edward stood alongside and tapped the cane on her cheeks. His own backside was marked from the caning Ann had given him a few days earlier.
He drew the cane back.
The next day she was closing up again but this time Mr and Mr Hunter were present. They called Ann to the storeroom at the back of the shop.
Ann entered and closed the door.
“Now, Ann, last night you forgot to lock the shop…” began Alf Hunter.
Ann went pale. She had been ticked off several times before for things like this. When she had arrived that morning the door was locked.
“PC Pludd found the door open on his rounds late last night and he called me to come back here” grunted Alf brusquely.
“So I think we need to discipline you, Ann” added Gertie Hunter his wife.
Ann was crestfallen and did not want her wages docked as she was saving every penny in the hope of opening her own shop one day.
“I think the best way is a sound caning, Ann” continued Gertie.
Ann looked at the floor. She knew where the cane would come from as the shop sold them and many parents were customers. She enjoyed re-stocking the umbrella stand where they were on display in the sop and sometimes in the storeroom has taken one out and handled it and flexed it.
“Yes, Mrs Hunter.
Alf fetched a wooden chair from the back of the storeroom and placed it by a shelf of supplies for their ironmonger shop. He gestured to Ann to approach the chair.
“Bend over” said Alf.
Ann’s head was spinning but she leaned over her back of the chair and held the front edge of the seat. Gertie lifted her dress and folded it out of the way. Ann felt very exposed. She had a flash-back to the three time her lovely housemistress had told her to stay behind after class and to report to her study. Each time that gorgeous woman had said she did not wish to have to give Ann corporal punishment but nevertheless she had done so and had caned Ann well. Each time she had six livid weals neatly placed on her bottom.
Now it was Gertie lifting her dress but Alf who was swishing the cane behind her. Alf looked at Ann’s youthful bottom in plain pale blue pants.
The next morning when Ann arrived, only Gertie was in the shop. In the storeroom Gertie ask Ann how she was feeling. Ann ran her hands down her bottom.
“Sore, Gertie.”
“Let’s take a look, dear” she said in a kindly way.
Ann blushed but lifted her dress and slipped her pants down.
“Bend forward, dear” said Gertie guiding her with a hand on her shoulder.
Ann bent forward and felt her pants going lower. Gertie studied the marks which were very obvious. She could see why the model of cane Alf used was a best seller in their shop and why the one they had at home spiced up their sex life. Gertie also admired Ann’s neat pussy and the copious black pubic hair between her legs; she must have a nice thick bush thought Gertie.
Ann stood and dressed.
“I hope that will remind you to lock up, Ann.”
“It will, Gertie.”
“Well let me give you a tip. I was caned many times when I started working in a shop before I met Alf and it helped me learn the job so, when you achieve your ambition to own a shop, my advice is to keep a cane handy for ay naughty shop girl or boy. Yes, we caned several newspaper delivery boys over the years and Veronica who worked here before you!”
“Thank you, Gertie, that will be useful advice.”
Gertie then handed Ann the cane that had been used across her bottom the previous day.
“Here, take this as a reminder and use it if needs be! We have others here for when we need to cane you again.”
Ann blushed and took the cane. Gertie and Alf did indeed have a cane handy for the eight other times Ann took a caning in the storeroom before she left their employment.
Twenty years later Ann had own shop. It was a busy ironmongers too but as the Second World War was raging she had a series of girls and boys working there as her regular girl had joined the forces. Now she had Clare who was a nice girl but a bit s**tty. Soon she would be off to join the ATS but in the meantime Ann did her best to keep her on the right lines stocking the shelves and serving customers.
One day Ann was walking past the railway station when a train pulled in and disgorged a lot of boys and their masters who had been evacuated from London. She watched the bedlam for a few minutes and carried on with her errands before heading home passing an empty cottage on a small hillside. She had noticed it had been empty for a while and thought she might take a look round sometime.
Later in the day a young master, Edward Hill, entered the cottage with one of his boys. They put some luggage including a cricket bag on the floor by the fireplace.
“Doubt there will be much time for cricket, Pemberton!” he chortled as he looked at his temporary home while the school settled into its new accommodation nearby.
“No, sir. It’s a bit dusty, sir” said Pemberton as he let out a loud sneeze.
He pulled out his white handkerchief and a packet of condoms fell to the floor.
The master picked them up. The packet was plain apart from a War Office marking on it.
“Explain, boy” he said tossing them onto a small table in the corner of the room.
“Oh, sir, we saw...um…a troop train came though while Jones and I were on the station last weekend, sir…and a soldier threw them to us…”
“I see. I think we can deal with this now, Pemberton!”
He opened his cricket bag and took out a supple cane designed for boys in the form above Pemberton but it would do.
“Bend over this armchair, Pemberton.”
Pemberton looked glum but stood by the old horse-hair filled chair and bent right over. His jacket was lifted and his tight bottom in thin underpants and grey trousers was exposed. Six stingers were given each making a crisp swish and crack on his cheeks. Pemberton let out a slight squeal each time the cane made its mark.
“Stand up.”
Pemberton stood and rubbed his bottom.
“Gosh, that was a nearly b**stly start in our new accommodation, sir!
“Nearly! Nearly, boy! Lower those trousers and bend over again!”
“But, sir!”
“Bend over!”
Pemberton lowered his trousers and bend over. Two more crisp strokes of the cane were given across his underpants.
“Stand up, Pemberton, and you can inform Jones what he can expect when he reports to me after prep this evening.”
The master watched Pemberton rub his bottom. He and Jones may be 18 now but they were not going to need those condoms for a while, he thought.
A few days later Ann decided to take a walk to the cottage as it was early closing. A customer had a said that a nice young master was lodging there having been evacuated from London. Ann recalled the hubbub on the station a several days earlier.
Around 3pm she knocked on the cottage door. A tall and very good looking young an opened the door. He had fair hair and blue eyes. He saw Ann on the doorstep and liked her slim figure and brown hair tied back in a plait.
Ann introduced herself and he invited her in. He said his name was Peter. Ann noticed he spoke very good English with a barely noticeable foreign hint of an accent that she could not quite place but he also had the habit of ending his sentences with ‘yes’.
“So you have been evacuated here from London with the boys. I saw your train arrive a few days ago. Someone told me there are French masters as well. Let’s hope their country will be free again soon.”
Peter was quick to pick up her thread.
“Yes, there are a number of foreigners among the staff. We are pleased to be in England though, yes!”
They both laughed.
“Nice little cottage” commented Ann looking out of the window towards the sea where a convoy was sailing by. She looked out of another window and saw workman a few fields away starting construction of a new airfield. She also noticed the cricket bag shoved in the corner.
“I doubt you will get much time for cricket” she commented.
Peter had already studied the bag he had found when he moved in.
“No, there is a war on, you know, yes!”
They laughed again.
Now Clare was proving a little problematic for Ann and she had to take her to task several times. She reminded her that discipline in the ATS would be strict and even warned her that she should take her in hand. One day Ann took out the cane that Gertie and Alf had given her many years ago and flexed it. She was certainly of the view that Clare deserved a sound caning but she had another idea.
That afternoon Ann walked down to see Peter. He was in the cottage and as she approached up the path he hid his powerful binoculars up the chimney breast. He welcomed Ann and invited her in. They sat on the old sofa.
“Peter, I know you are a master at the boys’ place that has moved to the big house over by the river but would you deal with my Clare for me?”
Ann explained what the problem was with Clare and Peter said he would be pleased to help but suggested she had a sound spanking first. Ann stood to go and thanked Peter.
“But, Ann, if you wish Clare to be spanked do you not think you should know what it is like too, yes?”
Ann was flustered.
“Well, Peter, I have been caned a number of times but a spanking can’t be that different…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Not spanked, eh? Yes, Ann, I think it would be for the best, yes.”
He sat on a wooden chair and beckoned her over.
Ann moved close to this lovely blond young man and went over his lap. Her skirt was lifted up and her bare legs and delicious bottom clad in pants was there to see. Peter began to spank her. His large hands spanked and spanked until thirty or more had been given. He glanced out of the window to watch another convoy go by at sea and gave Ann four more hard slaps.
Ann stood and rubbed her bottom. Peter smiled at her.
“Gosh, Peter, you really do spank well!”
A few minutes later at the door they kissed and Ann made her way home.
The next day Ann let Clare go early but with instructions to go to Peter’s cottage. He let her in and said she was expected. Like a school master he quizzed her about her reasons for being there. Clare told him about being late for work and other misdemeanours. Peter sat on the chair which was still where it had been when Ann was there.
Clare stood by his side and then hitched her dress up. Her pants were white and he saw her mons pubis pressing against the thin fabric. She went over his lap and he began spanking her. Clare was taken aback at how hard he spanked and she wriggled until he held her waist with his left arm. After fifty sound smacks she was allowed up.
“You were naughty so I spanked you, yes?” said Peter.
Clare looked at this fine young man as she caressed her sore bottom. Peter slid his hand up her bare legs and held her bottom. His touch was magical.
A few days alter Ann was passing and called in. Peter had been observing the work on the new airfield and the tall masts that were being erected.
They chatted and Ann told him that Clare had been much better since her spanking.
“And have you been good, Ann? Or do I need to spank you again, yes?” he chuckled as he held his hand out.
Ann paused then took his hand. She went over his lap and moments later he began to spank her bottom. Ann gasped loudly as her bottom reddened but then he slipped her pants down; Ann did not resist. Her cheeks grew redder and her pussy showed as her legs parted. Two fingers gently caressed her sensitive area.
When the spanking was over Ann stood red faced and pulled her pants up.
“I have a slipper too, Ann” he said standing and going to the cricket bag. Peter had wondered why there was just one leather soled slipper in there. He came back to Ann.
“Do bend over the chair.”
Ann’s bottom was hot but the sight of Peter holding the slipper made her bend over. Her dress went up and her pants came down. Peter eased her legs apart and admired the view. He gave her six firm smacks with the slipper making her grunt at each.
Ann stood and pulled her pants up.
“Gosh, Peter, I have never had the slipper before! Maybe Clare neds that next time?”
They hugged and kissed. Peter was lovely.
Ann blushed.
“I expect you cane well too, Peter, but I don’t suppose your boys appreciate your expertise.”
Peter smiled broadly as they hugged again.
Three days later Clare was sent to Peter again and she went over his lap for a sound spanking but was surprised when he stopped after just twenty or so spanks. He beckoned her to stand.
“Stand by the armchair, Clare, yes” he directed.
Clare stood where she was told and saw an old slipper on the seat. Peter unfastened her skirt which fell to the floor. She rubbed her bottom as Peter picked up the slipper.
“Bend over, Clare.”
Clare was very aroused by what had happened and bent down as she was told. The armchair gave her good support as Peter’s hand stroked her bottom. She did not resist as he slipped her pants down. Peter studied Clare’s pussy which was even hairier than Ann’s.
Clare felt the cold slipper touch her bare cheeks. The a dozen hard smacks landed making her yelp at each one. Her cheeks flattened and rebounded at each smack of the vintage slipper.
Peter helped her up. As she rubbed her bottom he looked at her large thick bush but Clare was more concerned about her bottom.
“Oh, Peter, that stings. You do know how to deal with a girl, don’t you!”
They hugged and his hands rubbed and squeezed her bottom then his right hand caressed her bush. Clare pressed her face onto his breast and sighed gently.
A week later, Ann was very cross as Clare had allowed the blackout curtains to remain open when she had lights on. The local Warden had threatened all sorts of things and Ann had to placate him. The next afternoon she strode purposefully up the road hoping to catch Peter at home.
Peter was at home and as he saw Ann approach he put his notebook under a loose floorboard. When inside, Ann sat on the sofa as Peter leaned against the door.
“Peter, I think…well…I really do think that Clare needs a caning. Would you be willing to do that?”
Peter stroked his chin.
“Yes, of course. Send her up here tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you, Peter. Six of the best will do her a lot of good.”
“And you, Ann, a caning like you took a spanking, yes?”
Prior to coming up to the cottage and asking Peter Ann had pondered this very point.
She looked at the floor.
“Yes. Yes, I think so, Peter.”
Peter went to the cricket bag and selected a cane with plenty of spring in it.
“Remove your skirt and bend over the armchair, Ann” he said pointing with the cane.
Ann faced the chair and let her skirt drop to the floor. As she bent over her pants tightened across her cheeks.
Peter waited until she had settled and tapped her bottom with the cane.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oh, my word!” yelped Ann.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oooooh!” she squealed.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ahhhh!”
Peter tucked the cane under his arm and peeled down Ann’s pants. Three vivid red lines crossed her bare bottom.
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ouch!”
Swiiish-craaack!
“Oooh! Ahhhh!”
Swiiish-craaack!
“Ouch!” she yelped.
Ann lay over the chair grimacing at the stinging on her bottom. Peter put the cane away.
She stood and clutched her bare bottom revealing her small bush to Peter. She hugged him and they kissed.
Then Peter swept her up in his arms and took her upstairs. They stood by his bed and kissed for several minutes as his hands fondled her bottom making her wriggle. Ann unbuttoned Peter’s shirt and removed it from his muscular body. He removed her blouse and bra and kissed her breasts. Ann’s blouse was on the floor, her bra on a chair nearby and her skirt, knickers and sandals downstairs.
Peter unfastened his belt and trouser and lowered them then stepped out of them. Ann lowered his underpants and knelt to kiss his penis. Rapidly Peter’s erection stood tall and rigid. Ann kissed and licked it then took it in her mouth and worked hard on it. From his position standing above Ann he could see a long convoy heading into the port just up the coast.
After a couple of minutes Peter helped Ann stand. He reached over to the bedside cupboard and took out a packet of condoms bearing the War Office marking. He took one out and handed it to Ann. She placed it on the tip of his erection and rolled it down as far as it would go.
He laid her on the bed and kissed her breasts then her navel. Parting her legs he nibbled her pubic hair and probed her pussy with his tongue. Energetically his tongue worked on Ann’s intimate area then he moved and pushed the tip of his penis against her labia. With little effort Peter slipped inside Ann and slowly began to move in and out. Love making went on for some minutes then he slipped out and turned Ann onto her front. He raised her hips and slipped in her from behind. His thighs slapped against her sore bottom for a minute or so before he could hold on no longer and he shot his load just as Ann had a noisy orgasm.
Above the sound of Ann gasping and groaning Peter was aware of an aircraft landing on the new airfield; he noted it was the first to land there.
Clare could not visit the next day but she did go to the cottage in the evening two days later. Peter was expecting her so hid his notebook, with a series of aircraft types and numbers written in it, beneath the loose floorboard.
“Now, Clare, I think that your naughty behaviour means a caning today. Have you had the cane before?”
Clare felt he sounded every bit the schoolmaster.
“Um…yes, sir…twice...three strokes of the cane…and…the next time four.”
“Well this time, six of the best, I think, yes? Maybe and extra two if you rub your bottom.”
Clare looked glum.
“Yes, Peter” she mumbled.
Peter was so beautiful and she had found the spankings arousing. A caning seemed the logical next development and now he really was going to do it. Clare watched as Peter bend over to select the same cane that had marked Ann so well.
“Do bend over the armchair” he said.
Clare expected this and faced the chair.
“But lower your skirt first” he added.
Moments later the skirt fell to the floor and Clare stood there with her knickers on show. She bent over.
Peter folded her blouse out of the way. Her buttocks offered a prime target once again.
Swiiish-craaack!
Clare barely uttered a sound so Peter upped his game.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
A gasp was heard.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ouch!”
Peter peeled her pants down. Clare did not resist but felt the cool air flood over her sore cheeks. Her hairy pussy was on show but Clare did not mind – only her throbbing bottom was of concern.
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ahhhh!”
Swiiiiish-craaaaack!
“Ouch!”
Swiiiiiiish-craaaaaaack!
“Yeouch!”
Clare jumped up and hopped round the rom holding her bottom.
The cane was put in the bag.
Clare jigged for a couple of minutes then came to Peter and hugged him. She kissed his face.
A few minutes later Clare was naked lying face down on Peter’s bed. He kissed her from her neck to her toes then gave special attention to her striped bottom. He pushed his face between her lower cheeks to enjoy her pussy. Clare turned over and looked at Peter as he knelt on the bed. His erection was huge and solid. He leaned forward and kissed her bush then used his tongue on her intimate parts. Clare was gasping and clearly very aroused.
He got off the bed and Clare watched him open the drawer on the bedside table. He showed her a condom packet. Clare took it and opened it. She sat on the side of bed and cupped his balls. Peter’s erection was strong like a boyfriend she had known until a few weeks ago. She kissed the tip and played her tongue on it before taking it in her mouth. Clare’s lips closed on this ramrod and she moved up and down slowly Peter strained trying not to cum but then Clare stopped. She opened the packet and rolled the condom down his penis.
Clare stood and kissed Peter. Her hands rested on his chest. They hugged as his erection pressed against her belly then Peter reached behind and grasped her bottom and lifted her. Clare wrapped her legs round his waist as he lowered her to bed.
Clare groaned as Peter pressed against her intimate area and slowly entered her. Lovemaking was energetic and noisy. A couple of times Peter glanced out of the cottage window as the sun started to go down. His thrusting became faster as did Clare’s squeals and groan
A few minutes later they lay silently on the bed. Peter looked at the clock on the bedside table.
Twenty minutes later they kissed by the cottage door and he watched Clare walked gaily down the path. Quickly he gathered a few items and stuffed them into a small knapsack. The cane was replaced in the bag which was hastily put in the cupboard under the stairs.
Soon it was dusk and in the gathering darkness he left the cottage, closed the door and hurried down the path. He saw no-one as he walked briskly through the woods towards the beach. He lay in the bracken on the edge of the wood. Out at sea a couple of quick flashes of a lamp were seen. He replied with his torch. A small rubber boat was rowed towards the beach.
The next day Ann walked passed the cottage and saw a constable not known to her guarding the gate. She continued without diverting to ask why he was there; local gossip would ensure she would hear in due course. That evening she came back past and saw no-one. She entered the cottage. The place had been turned over with the small amount of furniture left in disarray. The cricket bag was on the table with the contents alongside it. Ann wondered why the owner had not been back for it. She gathered the canes and slipper and took them home. The next day she met Edward Hill by the cottage. He mentioned he had been evacuated with the school. Ann assumed he, not Peter, was the owner of the bag. She thought he was very attractive and invited him over for tea the next day.
Twenty years later there was an exhibition in the Town Hall to mark two decades since the end of the war. It focussed on the local experience. Ann walked round the displays and stopped at a display with a photo of the cottage. There was also a cricket bag with a set of stumps, a bat, pads and several balls. There was a pair of binoculars allegedly found in the chimney after the war and a part used packet of army issue condoms. Another sign mentioned a local fable that the cottage had been used by a spy but this was disputed.
At home above Ann’s shop, Edward Hill awaited the return of his partner Ann. When she entered, he kissed the older woman 12 years his senior.
“Your old cricket bag was in the exhibition, Edward. Why did you never reclaim it?” she asked.
“Wasn’t mine. It was unloaded from the train in error and we never bothered to return it to the lost property office. Mind you, those canes came in very handy!”
“Indeed, Edward. Would you….”
Edward went to the dresser and reached behind. He took out a springy cane.
As he turned Ann was bending over the back of an armchair with her dress hitched right up and her tight pants protecting her lovely mature backside.
Edward stood alongside and tapped the cane on her cheeks. His own backside was marked from the caning Ann had given him a few days earlier.
He drew the cane back.
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