Helen Smith was twenty-three and a nerdy computer I.T. specialist. She had been asleep for several hours caused by exhaustion, adrenalin overload, and a surfeit of orgasms that had rendered her comatose.
When she stretched and rolled from her side, a pained yelp burst from her and she instantly leapt from her bed. She looked in the dressing table mirror and saw that her bottom was extremely red, covered in angry welts, and was so terribly sore.
Slowly, as the fog cleared from her sleepy head, the previous day's amazing turn of events once again returned to her. Her fingers traced the outlines of her terribly sore bottom, the multiple welts crisscrossing her bottom, and the re-energising sting this was creating in her bottom sent sizzles not only through her bare stinging bottom but also through her awakening pussy.
As her left hand explored the beautiful welts on her bottom, none too gently either, she replayed the memories of her first ever strapping she had experienced at the hands of a wonderful headmistress, or, at least wonderful to Helen.
Sitting ever so gently down on the corner of her bed, her legs apart, still smarting from her stinging bottom, her right hand was making magic happen deep inside her pussy and she knew she would orgasm again very soon and did several times.
Helen’s whole body was on fire, her breasts were alive and her nipples, well, when her fingers touched them a jolt of lightning shot through her and they stood out like erect guardsmen on duty protecting their treasure. The thrills her pussy was experiencing as she touched and rolled them between her thumb and fingers and pinched and pulled them until they hurt was electrifying. Helen could never remember her nipples giving her so much pleasure or being so firm and erect, and was excited at how long were they.
Beginning to get carried away again, Helen stood back up and again looked in the mirror and saw the multitude of tear stains on her face where her running makeup had dried. Then the sight again of her bare, expertly thrashed crimson welted and bruised bottom delighted her as that was how she had envisaged her bottom and face looking so many times in her fantasies. Her red swollen, puffy, hyper-sensitive excited and dripping sex also confirmed that her extremely sore bottom was what she wanted, needed, and definitely deserved and wanted a lot more of.
After showering for an extended period, letting the hot water course over her bare stinging bum, and washing herself thoroughly then drying in a luxury soft warm towel, Helen climbed back into bed naked which she rarely ever did, but at this moment she revelled in the touch and feel of her bed linen everywhere as it rubbed against her sensitive skin.
Deep rejuvenating sleep followed quickly and all too soon the alarm was ringing, signalling the start of another day. One that surely could never match yesterday.
Now properly rested and not so brain-blinded by all the other signals overloading her, Helen realised that due to her meeting with the headmistress yesterday taking such an unexpected and delightful detour, she had not updated her computer. Aghast at her mistake, she phoned the school as soon as she felt that someone might be there and got the headmistress's secretary. Saying she needed to check up on the computer as she hadn’t managed to complete the update before having to leave yesterday, she enquired when was the soonest she could complete what was required. The secretary replied, a little curtly Helen thought, that the headmistress was not in until late that afternoon and that if she came early today then she would have all the time she needed this morning.
Quickly going through today’s tasks, Helen realised most of what she had to do today was the paperwork for yesterday, updating her company database on what was done and on the other sites she had visited. The time lost travelling back to the school and updating the computer she could easily recover during the remainder of the afternoon and a little into the evening. So, dressing appropriately, not as her little schoolgirl clone this time, she drove there, albeit rather uncomfortably with her bottom reminding her all the time of just how thoroughly she had been disciplined yesterday.
On arrival, she went straight to the headmistress's secretaries' office and was shown into the head's room.
Sitting behind the desk she couldn’t help fidgeting and getting very hot. Looking at the drawer where the tawse was kept and at the cupboard where the thicker one was hung up, Helen couldn’t avoid her body reacting. She knew she was getting red in the face and neck, but worse her sex was starting to get very wet and excited and she knew she was beginning to soak her knickers again. However, trying but failing to look professional and calm she couldn’t help but make eye contact with the secretary who sat on the other side of the desk while she worked, seemingly tidying up the papers on the desk.
The secretary, Sarah, who was twenty-five, slim, her long hair tied into a bun, wearing a short-sleeved blouse, asked quizzically, “You seem to be rather agitated today, Helen, and you don’t appear to be comfortable in that chair and you look to be blushing and hot. Is there something the matter?”
When Helen didn’t answer but was blushing, Sarah was annoyed with her, and showed it by making a string of very direct comments. “Is your bottom red, welted and incredibly sore? Like mine is? Did you find bending over Mrs Mckinlay’s desk as punishing as I did, and still do? Do you realise I got thoroughly and severely caned not only on my knickers but also on my bare bottom because of you, with eighteen extremely painful strokes with the senior cane both times? I could not sit for the rest of the afternoon. I was sobbing and tearful most of the time and my bottom is now covered in deep crimson and purple welts and will be sore, in fact very sore, for the rest of the week probably.”
Sarah was about to continue but Helen interjected. “I’m really sorry, truly I am. I know just how sore Mrs Mckinlay spanks. Trust me, I really do know, but I don’t see why you getting a thrashing is my fault.”
Sarah continued in an angry and sarcastic tone, “Because, if you had worn your ID badge as you were supposed to, this mistake would never have happened. Also, Mrs Mckinlay would never have had to call me in with tea, and I would never have been so rude and disrespectful in my behaviour towards her. If you hadn’t asked Mrs Mckinlay to give you a second leathering, goodness sakes knows why, she wouldn’t have gotten so wound up, berated me, enquired what had caused the error, and not found out that I had left my desk when I shouldn’t have done. Then I wouldn’t have told her how I had a crush on her for years as a pupil and dreamed umpteen times of being over her lap for a hiding, and of being bent over her desk bare-bottomed for a long thrashing. So, thank you for that.”
Helen’s mouth dropped and she simply stared at Sarah and honestly said, “I’m sorry, I just got carried away in my own dream. I...”
She didn’t finish the sentence as Sarah jumped up from her chair, dashed round the other side, sat down on Helen’s lap, said, “Thank you,” and gave her a huge warm loving hug.
Sarah smiled and said meaningfully, “No, I meant it. I really do thank you. Like you, I got a dream come true. I got the hardest, sorest, and longest and very real thrashing I have fantasised over ever since I got the job as her secretary. You have no idea how many times I have had my ear to Mrs Mckinlay’s door hearing the swoosh and crack as her tawse and cane made girls howl and cry. How my knickers would stick to me as I watched them leave her office crying their poor sorry eyes out, clutching obviously extremely sore bottoms. Or how I loved that I found I could tell the difference in the sound of her strap or cane on knickers or bare bottom. She has also agreed to discipline my bottom thoroughly for errors I make going forwards, and even if I just need a good sore bottom anytime because that’s what I want and can ask for. I would just have to fill in a punishment slip with details of the punishment earned and she will make sure I am a very sorry girl indeed. So no, honestly, I really do mean thank you. I wish I could repay you. Like, maybe next time you come to see the computers I could get you into some trouble with Mrs Mckinlay and she might thrash your bottom again for you? Think about it and let me know."
Sarah was so happy as she got up and went back to her chair and allowed Helen to complete her work on the PC.
Once Helen had completed what she needed to do, it was her turn to hug Sarah back, saying she was glad that everything had worked out for the best and that she hoped she would get as many hidings and thrashings as she wanted or needed. She added that she didn’t need to make up stories as Mrs Mckinlay understood her needs too and that she and Helen had another appointment this Saturday for her to get not only another leathering but a severe caning too.
As they got up to leave, Helen’s mind was reeling with another idea. “Sarah, did you mean what you said about repaying me?”
Sarah replied, “Of course I did, Helen. Why?”
Helen looked mischievous as she replied, “We are alone here now, and my fantasy revolves around getting punished when my bottom is already sore, which is why I asked Mrs Mckinlay to give me a second leathering yesterday, and wow did she ever. I must say my bottom really is sore right now, and sitting on it updating that computer has made it really angry and tender again, which makes it an ideal time for me to be strapped again. Would you make me bend over the desk, get Mrs Mckinlay’s strap from her desk drawer, and leather me over my knickers then my bare bum? Like, for real. Not too hard, but real, with maybe twelve hard whacks on my knickers and twelve on my bare bum?”
Sarah smiled, clutched her own bottom, and said, “Deal, but only if it’s twelve on your knickers and twenty-four on your bare bum, and you then repay me by using her cane with the same number of strokes on my bottom.”
Helen replied, swallowing hard, “Agreed.”
Moments later and Helen was bent across the desk, her skirt raised above her waist, and was clutching the far edge of the desk. Sarah was standing, the tawse in her hand, eyeing Helen’s knicker-covered bottom. She then pulled her arm back and landed the first lash with a loud thwack and heard Helen gasp. She then proceeded to give the rest of the first twelve lashes, not overly hard but certainly not light either, and heard Helen’s louder and louder gasps.
Then Sarah ordered, “Knickers down, girl, and quickly.”
Helen heard the instruction and was sobbing already as she eased her thumbs into the elastic of her knickers and pushed them down to her knees. How could she ask for this, she wondered, but at the same time wanted to be thrashed on her bare bottom and relished it.
Sarah focused now on Helen’s bare bottom and proceeded to land twenty-four harder lashes and enjoyed listening to the yelps that followed each one and saw how Helen struggled to cope, but did.
Once that was over, they changed positions, and Sarah bent over the desk as Helen went to the cupboard and took out a hook-ended cane. It was Helen’s turn to focus on Sarah’s bottom knowing she was going to cane her over her knickers first. She had never caned anyone before but landed twelve strokes that made Sarah yelp and squirm around on the desk. When she had ordered Sarah to take her knickers down she then gave her twenty-four more strokes and again heard Sarah’s yelps as she squirmed around after each stroke, desperately clutched hold of the far edge of the desk. She also happily watched the red welts appear knowing that that was what happened to her bottom and knew her knickers were getting damper and damper as her own bottom still stung.
Once done and a crying Sarah stood up clutching her bottom, stepping from foot to foot, she saw through her blurred eyes that Helen was doing the same. Crazy, she told herself, but she wanted more pain still, and needed to finger herself.
Helen had the same thoughts and nodding to each other both gently sat on a chair, their legs apart, running their fingers along their very wet pussies, easing inside and also flicking their taut clits, and both exploded in tremendous orgasms.
As they both recovered, they had eyes as bloodshot red as their bottoms, tears streaming down their faces, with neither wearing their knickers as their bottoms were far too sore.
Both had got what they had asked each other for, then almost simultaneously afterwards had decided that doing what they had done was very naughty and required that they be seriously punished for their behaviour. After several minutes of discussion on what a suitable punishment should be, they agreed that as they had used the strap and cane without permission, it should be a strict punishment.
Helen then had a thought that she shared with Sarah. “Naughty girls shouldn’t get to decide what punishments we get. That should be decided by others and imposed no matter how severe. Do you see what I mean?”
Sarah did and got excited at the prospect as the loss of any control was an added excitement, as confirmed by the flutters again flying around her vagina, and asked eagerly, “How do we do that?”
Helen exclaimed, “I know of just the website to use.”
So, going onto a website Helen knew with a random punishment generator, they put into the programme their requirements. They said what implements could be used, what positions they could be in, and how painfully they expected to be punished. It was the numbers given by each implement that they had no say over and was chosen by the random programme. They both agreed they would accept whatever it suggested and would punish each other accordingly.
The result was:
Twenty-four strokes with the cane medium strength over their knickers.
Forty-eight lashes with the tawse given hard on their bare bottom.
A five-minute very hard bare bottom slipper spanking.
Ending with six lashes with the tawse hard on each hand.
Both of them gasped but looking at each other just nodded nervously, accepting that that’s what fate had decreed.
They then took it in turns to thrash the other, giving each other the cane, then the tawse, then the slipper, all on their beautifully presented bottoms, and finally the tawse on their outstretched hands. Throughout, they both gasped and yelped and screeched as the pain was so awful, but afterwards both again felt so turned-on by the stinging pain and gave themselves more huge orgasms.
Afterwards, two very sorry-for-themselves but elated girls left Mrs Mckinlay’s office to clean themselves up in the private bathroom. As they washed away the tear stains from their faces and re-did their makeup they were both thinking seriously about what had just happened.
As they stood looking in the mirror and felt more relaxed, Helen asked Sarah, “So did you prefer to give me a thrashing or to take the thrashing yourself?”
Sarah was smiling as she replied, “I know it’s crazy, but I didn’t get that much enjoyment from thrashing you, but an immense enjoyment from being thrashed by you. What about you?”
Helen was also smiling as she replied, “I know it is really crazy, but I also got so turned on by being thrashed, whilst thrashing you was just something I did. I guess that means that we both need to find a partner who gets turned on by thrashing us. I bet they are out there.”
That got them both thinking as they left the bathroom and Sarah returned to continue her work and Helen collected her things from the Study and then walked out of the school to her next appointment, both knowing they still had very red eyes.
