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« Clare, Jessica and Anya


18. The Letter

Spanking Story


A girlfriend takes home a punishment letter adding a spanking to her already caned bottom

«Beginning Part 19»

Certainty wrapped Jessica in warm comfort, not her four cane stripes burning into the taxi seat. Heading home to her strict boyfriend, she faced certain punishment. She'd only wanted a boyfriend if he happened to her. Peter had. They had rules. Rules they both understood. She obeyed them. He enforced them.

Her girls' night had exploded into an absurd argument, her four cane stripes her fair share of their collective punishment. She respected Mark for punishing her. She'd measured potential boyfriends against Clare's boyfriend until she'd met Peter. His definition of obedience met her expectation. It also ensured he'd punish her tonight for getting into trouble at Clare's.

She shifted position, easing between bum cheeks on the taxi seat. Each distinctive cane ridge resonated through her jeans. With her stricken face seen by her friends as her bottom received sound cane stripes, her humble apology had been inevitable.

She'd cherished her grilling. Her friends had dragged every minuscule detail of Peter from her. They'd applauded her decision to request his cane on their very first date, amazed by her audacity.

She'd moved in, reorganized Peter's bathroom and made feminine sense of his male house. They'd continued their rational discussion about discipline. She liked it. He gave it.

Learning he'd received punishment from his parents after getting thrashed at a friend's house, she'd begged him for similar strict rules. His rock-hard manhood inside her, she'd promised to carry home a shameful letter describing her punishment if someone else disciplined her.

Mark's cane searing its painful lesson into her pretty navy panties, she'd resolved to request a formal punishment letter for her boyfriend. Admitting her boyfriend would punish her again dripped delicious shame into her lace-edged navy panties.

Whatever Peter demanded of her, she'd give. Her fate sealed in her envelope, she'd hand it over and await her boyfriend's harsh verdict.

Her sex clenched, remembering her humiliation. Stripping to her panties, getting caned hard, her two best friends watching. Pleasure pulsed at the powerful, fresh memory. Ordered down to her panties by Mark, her shameful public submission had flooded her sex.

From Mark's letter, Peter would discover her disgrace. Despite her sore bottom, he'd impose his own punishment. Riven with deep self-respect, she pictured her penitence. She'd chosen to accept strict discipline, her caned bottom a pertinent reminder. Her super slinky Tommy Hilfiger skinny jeans would come off. She'd submit to him naked, if he demanded it.

Uncertain of her punishment but certain of her commitment to Peter, her taxi deposited her outside the rose-colored townhouse she called home.

Hanging her jacket in the wooden paneled closet, she added her bag, withdrawing her punishment letter. Kicking off her navy heals, she padded into their lounge to find Peter.

"How were your friends?" Peter asked, seated on the white leather couch.

"Fine," she said, her tone tentative.

Her grand revelation of her boyfriend, her severe caning, and even their argument reminded her how much she loved her friends.

Her circumspect tone drew his attention, the cream envelope in her hand unexpected. He took it, noting his name in neat script.

She stood before him in her blue skinny jeans and navy fitted blouse. Her matching navy underwear wouldn't get the soft unveiling she'd imagined.

"What's this?"

"Please read it."

Ripping the flap, he removed the single printed sheet of heavy cream notepaper signed by Mark. Aware of her friends, he hadn't met Mark.

Clasping her hands, she lowered her head as he read her punishment letter.

Heavy in specific facts, he respected Mark's formality. Mark had caned his girlfriend. He appreciated the respect shown in the letter. He valued knowing Clare and Anya's punishments. Mark had shown Jessica fair treatment.

He locked her under his steely gaze. "Consider yourself lucky I don't double it and cane you again."

"Peter, I'm ashamed. I apologize. Whatever you see fit."

"I'm impressed you asked Mark to write you a punishment letter. Was it tough to ask?"

"Pretty embarrassing."

News of her boyfriend had overtaken her humiliating request. Her friends knew she'd strip for a further beating tonight. Excitement pulsed liquid pleasure into her humble sex.

"I respect your honesty. I hope your bottom hurts. Get ready for bed. I'll spank you in a few minutes."

She entered their bedroom, where she'd first bent for him, her openness setting the tone for their strict relationship. A disciplined girl, her bottom must sting before bed. She shoved off her sexy jeans, unbuttoning her tailored blouse. Her smart outfit had pleased her tonight. Her friends had noticed her upgraded appearance.

Slipping the blouse from her shoulders, she admired her underwear in the full-length mirror. Her matching lace-edged navy was beautiful. Spinning, she studied her caned bum. Four red lines edged out of her tight panties. Marks of shame shared with her friends. Her portion of their rightful punishment.

Washing her face, she climbed onto their bed. He'd ordered her here to spank her. There must be consequences. He could order her naked and beat her bottom with his leather belt, or cane her bottom again. She loved consequences. Giving her the discipline she craved proved he cared.

"You look stunning," he said, entering their bedroom. "I love your underwear."

Thrilled he'd noticed, she smiled. She'd worn it for him.

"We don't keep secrets," he said, passing her Mark's letter to read. His equal treatment thrust love into her soul. Dying to discover what Mark had written, she leaned against their cushioned leather bedhead, unfolding the single page.

Dear Peter,

It was necessary to cane Jessica during her visit this evening.

Clare, Jessica, and Anya argued over a forthcoming novel. Clare's yelling alerted me. Her unreasonable attitude was obvious.

I bent Clare over a straight-backed dining chair, smacking her panties with our paddle hairbrush. Over one hundred spanks made her sore, red, and repentant. I followed it with four hard cane strokes.

She met her friends' gaze as I caned her, showing decent humility and grace.

I challenged Jessica and Anya over their involvement. Both admitted yelling and cursing.

Anya presented herself over the chair in her panties, taking her four cane strokes with dignity.

Jessica bent over the chair in her panties. I caned her four times, hard. She met her friends' gaze as I thrashed her, showing true fortitude. Her honorable acceptance and dignified apology were a credit to her. It was clear she felt deep remorse.

Jessica is a welcome guest. Her respectful cooperation during discipline only makes her more delightful. She's amazing, bright, honorable and bold. You're a lucky guy. I doubt you need me to tell you.

They've forgotten their disagreement. As I write, Jessica is undergoing intense female interrogation about you. I'm sure I'll learn something. However, her request for this letter speaks volumes.

I look forward to meeting you.


Folding her punishment letter, she placed it on the pillow beside her. Tears had welled reading Mark's lovely compliments written in a letter.

Undressing while she read, he climbed onto their bed beside her in his tight white shorts, his manhood driven hard by her stunning navy underwear. "It's a lovely letter. You deserved your caning."

"I agree. Mark was fair."

"I must still spank you. It will hurt on top of your caning."

"I understand. I accept it. Sorry I let you down. I deserve tough love."

"Lie on your front."

She complied. His warm fingers infiltrated the elastic of her panties as he kneeled beside her. She raised her hips. Submission flooded her as he swept her panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

He ran his finger along her proud ridges. "I bet these hurt."

"They do," she panted as his fingers antagonized her stinging weals.

"He's proficient. They're all in the middle. You're lucky. I'd have caned you here." He stroked imaginary lines across her crease where her bottom met her legs.

She shivered. Strokes there hurt the worst. His tender touch flared her sex. She craved harsh strokes where he'd traced. Two tough burdens of pain for her to bear tomorrow.

His hard hand smacked her bare left cheek. Sting burst, reigniting her weals. His firm hand beat a heavy rhythm on her bare behind, spreading fresh spanks over her stinging cane marks.

A naughty girlfriend, unforgiven until she'd taken her spanking, riotous sting blossomed, merging fresh heat into smoldering skin.

Hope transferred between her cheeks as he switched his stinging hand. Her bottom ached as he packed both cheeks with pain. Her cane weals launched fresh sting. She buried her head into her pillow and let his spanks hurt her.

Witnessing her submission, he spanked her harder, burning sting into her bare behind. "I'm glad he punished you alongside your friends."

"Me too," she said, twisting her head on her pillow. "Our friendship demanded it. My friends seeing my beating was humiliating."

"You saw theirs."

"It made me respect them. I'm ashamed of myself. Thank you for spanking me. God, it hurts, but I need your punishment."

"I'm going to make you sore."

Nodding, she said, "I deserve it."

Taking Mark's kind written words to heart, she wrapped herself in them as Peter lit her bum on fire. His hard hand taught her bare cheeks a sound lesson. Appreciation poured through her burning hurt as his furious spanks stung her weals. She pressed herself into their bed, keeping her arms tucked under her pillow. It was hard to surrender, but her absolute duty. Desperate to rub her burning bum, she lay and took her spanking.

Heat from her mind blended pain from her spanked bottom, infusing fervent desire into her wet sex. Desperate to shove her hand beneath her, respect forbade it. Hot pleasure surged as he landed ten hard final spanks, counting them out loud.

"You're done," he said.

She felt done. "Thank you," she said, rolling over. Unsnapping her bra, she flung it on the floor. Circling her clit with her finger, she said, "You had to spank me."

His manhood burst from his shorts. He shoved them down, rubbing himself, watching her.

"You didn't go easy on me," she groaned.

"You didn't deserve easy," he said, stroking his manhood fast.

"Fuck me," she begged.

"You deserve those two cane strokes where I showed you."

Caught between conflicting desires, she wanted to bear his cruel marks where they'd hurt the worst tomorrow, but couldn't stop rubbing her desperate clit.

Seeing her indecision, he said, "Two strokes. I'll make it twelve if you come. Kneel."

She obeyed. Rolling and kneeling, she kept her sex on edge. She wanted her boyfriend's strokes to hurt the worst. Kneeling in submission to him, she leaned forward, offering her sensitive crease for severe pain.

Grabbing their cane from below their wardrobe, foregoing his desperate need, he stood beside the bed to sear his mark on his disobedient girlfriend's bare bottom.

Keeping herself on the edge of orgasm, she held still as the rattan rested against her soft skin. Fierce fire screamed skyward as the cane struck her flesh. Climbing the pain curve, desperate to cope, his second stroke doubled her discipline, launching competing pain.

She circled her clit, wallowing in agony and respect. Sitting tomorrow would remind her she was an obedient girlfriend. His firm grip on her hips spun her onto her back. Grinning as his face rose over her, she moaned as his huge manhood powered deep inside her grateful sex.

His thrusts engorged her. She pushed hard onto him, scraping her spanked bottom against the sheet. Her stinging bum burst happiness into her heart as he fed her raw pleasure. Grabbing his firm buttocks, she forced him deeper, holding her lust as his forces massed on her fragile border.

He stilled, keeping her balanced in fine hell. Easing his manhood in tiny strokes, teasing her fragile sensations, he threatened her sanity, refusing to grant relief.

"If it happens again, I'll belt you," he warned.

His hard promise on the peak of his powerful thrust snapped her control, bursting cavalcades of orgasms as he blasted his satisfaction into her shocking flow of outrageous pleasure.

As her violent hips stilled, he collapsed on his pillow beside her. "You're hot as hell."

She grinned. "Thank you. You were good and tough on me."

"What book caused your argument?"

"Ask me tomorrow and I'll tell you everything."

"I'm looking forward to meeting Mark, Clare, and Anya," he said.

"They'll all love you."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because you're strict with me."