Dolores Piquet shuffled her feet nervously and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair. She was alone in the waiting room. Or at least she was the only patient if that was the right word. Was she a patient? There was nothing wrong with her. She could have walked out any minute. But she didn’t. She had to know more.

The bored-looking receptionist looked up from her typewriter.

“He won’t be long now,” she said kindly. Dolores smiled and nodded, then she took off her spectacles and cleaned them for the fourth time. Just then, she noticed that the reception room had electric lighting. Fancy. She supposed that the doctor’s fees were high enough.

The door opened and a man walked out of the doctor’s room. He did not pause to look at either Dolores or the receptionist. Instead, he strode straight to the door and out of the building.

“Sir, your bill!” cried the receptionist after him. She got up, but just then the doctor appeared at the door.

“Mr. Campos will be returning to us, Maria. I agreed he could pay in full next time.”

“But doctor…”

“It’s agreed. Now, who is next? Mrs. Piquet?”

Dolores nodded.

“Step right this way,” said the doctor kindly.

Dolores followed him into the room.

“Take a seat. Armchair, couch, office chair, wherever you feel comfortable.”

Dolores sat in the armchair. Her heart was beating heavily. Apart from her brother and father, she had not been alone in a room with a man other than her husband in the seven years since her marriage.

“So what brings you to see me today?” the doctor asked.

“Well,” she began, but then she hesitated, feeling her cheeks flush.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Piquet,” said the doctor, “I doubt you’ll tell me anything I haven’t heard before.”

“Well, I’m married.”

“Ah. You are having…marital problems?”

“Not exactly, no. I love my husband and I am sure we are both faithful.”

“Fertility? You understand that I am a psychiatrist, not an expert in conception?”

“No, doctor. I wanted to speak to you about…some feelings I have been experiencing that concern me.”

“And what might they be?”

“Some…physical desires. Desires that I shouldn’t be having. I…I…I find myself wanting my husband to do certain things in the bedroom. And, lately, I have been unable to become aroused unless I imagine...”

The doctor raised his eyebrows.

“May I ask what it is you ask him to do?”

“Well, doctor, it all started when we were courting. We were just seventeen, you know. And Joaquim, who was then my boyfriend, now my husband, and I were spending every minute we could together.

*


Dolores hurried around the corner of the brick wall that surrounded the boy’s school. She made quickly for the bike shed, hoping her breath was sweet, hoping he had not somehow been delayed. Joaquim would never let her down willingly but something could have.

To her intense relief, he was there. His blazer was hanging on the handlebars of his bike. He smiled when he saw her.

“You look beautiful!” he said and Dolores blushed.

“Flatterer!” she chuckled, pressing her lips to his. Joaquim put his arms around her shoulders and held her close. Dolores let him slip his tongue into her mouth and soon she could feel his penis growing hard as he pressed it to her crotch.

“What’s that in your pocket, young man?”

“Something I’ve been dying to show you!”

“All in good time, young fella.”

Dolores had decided to wait until they were married. She’d known a girl in her class had fallen pregnant, and the incautious young mother had been sent away to some aunt in the countryside. Dolores wanted to have sex, but the risk was too great.

She guided Joaquim’s hand up her skirt and onto her bare thigh, feeling him caress her skin, feeling his touch. With the tip of one of his fingers, he tickled her mound. Oh, she wanted it!

Joaquim redoubled the fierceness of the kiss and she threw herself into it. She reached around and caressed his bottom, enjoying the feel of his muscular buttock…

“What is the meaning of this?!”

A man’s voice, raised in anger, broke the spell. Dolores and Joaquim flew apart. They were caught and cornered.

“Come with me this instant!”

The man was Joaquim’s school principal. Dolores could have run, but it would have been pretty ungallant to leave him alone. The principal led them across the deserted playground, into the school, and his office.

“Carrying on like sex-crazed baboons in my school! Treating it as a private bordello! Well, I won’t have it!”

“We were only kissing, sir!” Joaquim protested.

“And if I had not found you, I have no doubt you would have progressed a good deal further. Sins of the flesh are abominations to the Lord!”

Dolores very much believed in God, but she found it hard to believe he would be that bothered about her playing tonsil tennis with her boyfriend.

The principal went on for ages, and then he stalked over to an umbrella stand across the room. He pulled from it a thin, whippy cane.

“Oh, sir, no!” cried Joaquim.

“You can’t cane me, sir, I’m not a pupil at your school!” Dolores protested.

“But you were caught offending on my school property, and here I am the law. Now, both of you bend over the desk. Prepare for the whipping of your lives!”

They took up positions at opposite ends of the desk.

“Trousers down, boy. And you, girl, hitch your skirt up!”

Dolores ever after remembered the cool breeze playing around her bottom and thighs as she pulled her dress up. And there was something about the clink of Joaquim’s belt as he undid it to lower his trousers that set her imagination aflame.

She bent over the desk and rested her head on it. What a terrible way for a make-out session to finish, she thought. She hadn't been caned before, though she had often wondered what it would be like.

Joaquim was across the desk, facing her and his face was so close that, with a stretch, they could have kissed. She watched the director stalk around behind Joaquim, then he raised the cane high…

Swish…crack! Joaquim grimaced.

After a second stroke had been administered to Joaquim, the principal walked around the desk and stood behind Dolores. Her knees were shaking. She braced herself…

Swish…crack! Swish crack! The cane left a stinging line across her bottom. She had closed her eyes for the first stroke, but when the second one struck she made eye contact with Joaquim, who gave a sympathetic smile.

Dolores felt her bottom tingle where the cane had struck her. It was…almost pleasant. The principal was now stalking back over to Joaquim. There was the stance again, there was the swish-crack and the jolt on the table as Joaquim was thrown forward by the force of the blow. Dolores thought of Joaquim's firm bottom that had so recently been in her grasp and she longed to caress it better. She wished it were Joaquim taking position behind her, as the head was now doing, and wished it was only then that his belt buckle was undone. Had he been able to, she’d have had him ravish her right then and there.

She could hardly believe it, but she was becoming aroused even as the principal raised his arm to deliver a third stroke upon her trembling buttocks.

*

“And what happened after you were caned?” the doctor asked.

“I was deeply, almost painfully aroused, doctor,” she said, blushing.

“When he had given us six strokes each, I hurried to the bathroom. Remember, I was in a boy's school but there was no one around. I tore my knickers down and inserted two fingers into my vagina. I found my clitoris and stroked myself, which was easy because I was so, so wet. I stroked myself until my knees trembled and then I came. I had to bite my arm to stop myself from squealing. I’ve never orgasmed so hard so quickly. And now, I find myself wondering about being punished by my husband. Not only wondering. Longing to be bent over and whipped. I don’t know why and I feel awful about myself!"

A tear ran down her cheek.

“I see,” said the doctor thoughtfully,

“It may help you to know, Mrs. Piquet, that you are far from the first person to have such feelings. Nowadays it is called sadomasochism, and Dr. Freud himself has written about it. Were you severely punished as a child?”

“That’s just it, doctor, I wasn’t. I was slippered a handful of times but nothing like that cane, and I certainly didn’t enjoy it.”

“Well, Mrs. Piquet, it is a good thing that you are only longing for violence to be done on yourself and not harboring fantasies of harming others. It seems to me that three courses of action are available to you. First, you repress your feelings and say nothing. This is seldom recommended in the field of psychoanalysis. Second, you could share your fantasies with your husband. He may be supportive and willing to grant you your desires.”

“But doctor, suppose he is disgusted? Suppose he is judgemental? I saw him suffering as he was caned…he will think me mad to have enjoyed it!”
“That is a possibility,” said the doctor, “Which brings me to a third alternative. Simply, you find someone else to fulfill your desire for punishment and your husband never needs to know!”

Dolores’ eyes widened. She had already thought of the first two options, but that had never occurred to her.

“Do you know of such a person?” she asked timidly…

“Yes!” said the doctor, “I offer a sideline in punishing lustful wives. Get up and stand in the center of the room, please.”

Dolores obeyed. The doctor stood and reached into his desk. From it, he pulled out a riding crop.

“Lower your panties,” he said firmly. Dolores complied.

“Now, touch your toes.”

Dolores stretched down, feeling the muscles on her bottom tighten, feeling her hair fall around her head, which began to swim as the blood rushed to it. The doctor lifted her skirt, baring her bottom. And, of course, her vagina.

“Right, Piquet. For your perverted fantasies and sick mind, I am going to give you ten strokes of the crop. Do not move until your thrashing is complete.”

Dolores trembled in anticipation. She was totally at his mercy. Her most intimate parts were totally exposed to the air and to his eyes. Was he judging her ass? He must have seen dozens of them. Well, she was twenty-four and in good shape. She had seen it in the mirror and was confident that she was at least shapely in that regard.

Dolores grasped her ankles.

The crop was less severe than the cane had been, she soon found. But she was no less aroused. So, it was not the pain but the act that turned her on. It was submitting; baring her backside and presenting it to a man to do with as he pleased.

When the tenth stroke landed, she squealed in pain, and then,

“Take me,” Dolores whispered, “Please, just take me!”

The doctor seized her below the arms, hauling her bodily up. He pushed her three steps forward and forced her down onto the desk. There was the jingle of the belt, as Joaquim’s had jingled in the principal’s office all those years ago, and then the doctor’s cock was easing between her lips. The medic, she felt at once, was considerably better endowed than her husband. He was inside her in a flash and, as he pumped, she felt his body thump against her buttocks, reinforcing the warm stinging glow that the cuts from the crop had left her with…

“...pay certain ladies to administer corporal punishment. Or perhaps a gentleman would be more suitable?”

Dolores snapped back to reality. She had not heard a word the doctor had said. The fantasy had left her damp between her legs.

“Er, thank you, doctor! Goodness, is that the time? I really must be off.”

“Mrs. Piquet, just be assured you are not alone and what you are experiencing is perfectly common and normal.”

“Right, right. Thank you, doctor.”

“Feel free to book a follow-up consultation if you have any doubts. My advice? Be straight with your husband.”

“Thank you, good sir, goodbye!”

Dolores didn’t say a word about her desire for pain to Joaquim that night. Instead, she pulled his clothes off and devoured him sexually. She rode his cock hungrily. The bed trembled beneath their exertions, and she even banged her head on the headboard while being pounded from behind, yet still she urged Joaquim on. He came four times and she lost count of her orgasms. It had taken seven years of marriage to reach the wildest night of her sex life to date.

*

The cushions under her knees raised her just enough so she could lean over the bed, tighten her muscles, and reach behind with her hairbrush. God, this was so…pathetic. Just ask him, she told herself over and over, he’s your husband. What’s the worst that could happen?

Not yet. At least see if this works.

Dolores slowly peeled her pyjamas down so that her bottom was bare, then she reached behind and cracked the wooden hairbrush against her left cheek. Ouch! That hurt more than she had expected!

She switched hands and smacked her right cheek. Crack! Crack! Crack! The sound echoed through the empty house and, too late, she realised that the neighbours might hear and wonder what on earth was going on. She smacked her bottom as hard as she could. The sting took a while to mount and it was not unpleasant.

But she was not even remotely turned on. She needed a man.

*

“Joaquim, I walked past your old school the other day.”

“Oh? I wonder if that old bastard is still the head?”

“I certainly remember him!”

“Haha! Yes, I couldn’t sit comfortably for a week! But it was worth it to kiss you!”

“Aw, thanks!”

She hesitated.

“Love…I never told you this. But after we’d been thrashed, I, rather surprisingly...”

She hesitated, her secret on the tip of her tongue

 “I felt…”

Her nerves failed her.

“Glad you were there with me,” she finished.

“Er, ok! I guess I was glad you were there, but I can think of things I’d rather have been doing.”

“Yeah. I think it was good for us. Brought us together.”

“Is there something you want to tell me, Lolly?”

She paused, desperate to make her request. But, instead, she just said,

“No. I just walked past the school. Made me nostalgic.”

“Ok. Fancy a bit of you know what?”

Dolores smiled and nodded.

Five minutes later, her husband’s head was jammed between her legs. Joaquim was good at oral sex and generous with his time. Dolores closed her eyes and felt his tongue caress her vaginal lips, now stroking her clitoris, now gently pushing inside her. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her belly and pinched her nipples, thinking about ways she could broach the subject as she felt the first bubbles of pleasure swell as she was licked. She didn’t trust herself to ask him outright. She could….oh! That hit the spot! Perhaps she should just keep quiet. She could orgasm without being beaten, there was no question about that. Her chest rose and fell higher as her joy built slowly.

“Fingers, please!” she whispered. Joaquim’s index and ring finger felt their way inside and he licked her firmly, skilfully. She was swollen down there. Dolores shifted from buttock to buttock, then she put her feet onto his back. Joaquim’s tongue was now licking her clitoris faster. Now he licked with the flat of his tongue, now he flicked at her with the tip of his tongue…oh he’d earned his blowjob for this. She pressed her thighs against the sides of his head as he sucked on her clit. She was coming!

Dolores closed her eyes and pictured herself bending over in the doctor’s office. She felt the cool air around her bottom, which tingled in anticipation.

With a gasp of breath, Dolores orgasmed. She was not a screamer during sex. Her husband sometimes wasn’t sure she had come at all. She pushed him away from her and said,

“Good job, love!”

Joaquim smiled and rolled onto his back. She watched as he placed his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He knew what was coming his way. Sometimes, she needed to work his erection up a bit, but here he was rock hard already. And just as Dolores took hold of his penis with her right fist and bent to slip it into her mouth, he said,

“Do you know, speaking of our mutual caning, there are some people who actually enjoy being smacked? I read about it once. Some people find it a turn-on.”

Dolores paused. Taking in what he had said, she gave him a long, strong suck that made him squirm. This gave her time to think.

“Seems…harmless to me. As long as it’s consensual,” she said innocently, then returned his cock to her mouth. Then Joaquim said,

“Yeah. I mean, why not? Doesn’t float my boat but each to their own. Oh wow! That feels great, love.”

Dolores smiled and let his cock ever further into her mouth with each suck. She gave his balls a squeeze and then licked him around the shaft, which was already glistening with saliva.

“Oh, I love you, Lolly. You’re such a good…”

“Cocksucker?!”

“I was going…oh…I was going to say lover, but yes!”

Dolores giggled. She didn’t mind giving her husband head. Privately, she sometimes wished that she could experience a blowjob for herself. She wondered how it felt for a man.

“But how would you know, young man? I’m the only one who has ever sucked your cock. I might be terrible!”

“You’re not, trust me. Oh! Faster! Faster, please!”

Dolores plunged down again, tugging at his penis, letting it gag her, twisting it with her hand. Her husband was trembling. She knew that it was just seconds away now.

A jet of semen burst against the roof of her mouth and she gave it one more suck.

“Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus!” he cried.

She swiftly abandoned his cock and scooted over next to him, then she showed him his own jizz plastering her mouth. He looked at her adoringly as she swirled it around her tongue before theatrically swallowing it.

“Oh, that is hot!” he whispered. She knew. She let him watch her swallow his cum occasionally, to keep it as a treat.

Dolores lay on her front, inches from her husband’s face. She smiled at him and he caressed her bottom playfully. Even that felt nice. She took a deep breath and said,

“Love, if there’s anything I can do for you, you know, in the bedroom, you can ask me, ok? I’ll do it for you. Just ask!”

Joaquim grinned.

“I’ll have to think of some ideas! Lolly, is there anything I can do for you?”

She paused, then got up onto her knees. Moving her mouth to within an inch of his ear, she whispered,

“I’d like you to thrash my bottom then take me over the desk!”

Joaquim’s eyes widened. He was silent for a long time. Then he said,

“That was the last thing I expected you to say!”

 Dolores blushed and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. A minute later, she felt his breath on her ear as he whispered,

“But ok!!”

*

Nothing more was said about her request. Dolores began to worry that he had forgotten or that he had changed his mind. But, on a windy Saturday not long after, she came home to find the layout of the house quite altered. He had moved the sofa to the edge of the room and a table had been placed in the centre of the room. Dolores did not immediately realise what was going on.

“Joaquim?” she called, hanging up her coat.

Her husband emerged from the kitchen. He was wearing his smoking jacket and a waistcoat. In his hand was a long, thick school cane. He was the picture of a stern headmaster.

“Piquet? Here.” He tapped the desk twice with the cane. Dolores almost dropped her shopping bags, she was so surprised. When she had mastered herself, she took a deep breath, got into the role, and stepped forward to her fate.

“Do you know why I’m going to punish you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It is time you met the consequences of your actions. First, I will need you to take down your knickers.”

Dolores, in spite of herself, blushed. Her husband watched her with folded arms as her white cotton pants slid down to her knees.

“Good girl. Now, bend over.”

Dolores stepped forward, trembling. She was suddenly somewhat afraid, and yet she could feel her anticipation swelling. She bent across the desk and as she did so her knees began to shake.

“I’m going to expose your bottom so I can thrash it now. You are not to move until you are given permission, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” she stammered. Behind her, she felt the skirt lifted off her skin, felt the air brush against her. Her husband put his hand on her bare bottom, caressing it gently. That did it. Dolores was now getting turned on.

“Your bottom is healthy. But I can see signs you’ve been thrashed before, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There are some ridges and marks that can only have been made by a cane. But, clearly, the first master was inexpert at the job, if you haven’t improved your behaviour as a result. I shall have to make sure I do a more thorough job. Right, brace yourself, girl.”

Dolores gripped the other end of the desk. Now she was thinking about the sex that was to come, her body was really aroused. Already, she wanted to reach between her legs and touch herself.

The cane whipped down and cracked across her bottom. At first, she felt nothing. But then the sting made itself known, a hot, fiery sting in a line stretching from one buttock to the other.

“Ow!”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another.

The second stroke was skillfully aimed to strike the same area as the first. The pain was exquisite when the stroke landed on wounded flesh. Her husband paused to allow it to sink in, then delivered a third crack across her tingling backside.

“You’re feeling that, aren’t you, girl?” he said severely.

“Yes, sir!” she gasped. Her bottom felt like it was being held close to a fire. But she was wet now and desired to be touched above anything else. No, wait. It’ll be sweeter when he finally does it.

The cane swished through the air again and Dolores squealed. She suddenly realised they had not agreed on a number of strokes. And she was glad. It was her pleasure to surrender. Bent over, under orders not to move, she was exposed, helpless, unsure whether she would be struck or fucked after each stroke, trembling with anticipation to find out.

Crack! That was the hardest stroke yet and the pain was mounting, worsening as her skin was bitten into. How would it feel to rub her pussy juices across her butt cheeks now, she wondered. Would it soothe her stinging bottom?

Crack! The sixth stroke landed and, just as Dolores was registering the sting, she heard fumbling behind her. There was the clink of the belt and the crumpling sound as trousers were dropped and then he was on her, pushing his penis at her vagina, guiding himself into her. Dolores gripped the desk tighter as the thrusting started. The desk wobbled as Joaquim thrust into his wife, gripping her thighs, it teetered as if the thing had become animate and, like the two people who were fucking across it, was quivering with desire, barely able to support itself.  

Dolores rocked back and forth as Joaquim pushed deep inside her. He was increasing his stroke now, pumping her hard and fast. She felt his cock drive inside her like a piston and she was alive, so alive, she had never imagined herself as a sexual animal but today it was all she wanted, more than food, more than water, more than air itself. Penis was her sole desire across that desk, and she was getting it, getting it hard and firm and fast and she squealed and cried for God, and within her there came such an explosion of joy that it overwhelmed her senses and, briefly, she lost consciousness with her head resting on the desk.

She opened her eyes. Joaquim was not inside her anymore. She could feel her pussy, still deliciously wet. She could feel her bottom, still pleasantly sore.

“Joaquim?” she whispered.

“You may get up and dress now,” he said quietly.

She stood gingerly. She bent over and pulled up her panties. Then she turned to face her husband, who was dressed again.

“Thank you, sir,” she said simply. Then she ran to the bathroom.

*

Doctor Perez rubbed his eyes blearily. It was the end of a long day. He could fit in maybe one more patient. As he got up from his desk, his receptionist knocked on the door.

“Post for you, doctor.”

“Strange, the mail came this morning.”

“This was slid under the surgery door while you were with the last patient.”

Perez took the envelope and opened it.

“Dear Dr. Perez,

I followed your advice and opened up to my husband. He was glad to respond to my desires, and I to his in return. You have both of our gratitude. Kind regards, Mrs. D. Piquet.”

Doctor Perez smiled. When entering medical school, he could never have imagined that a successful day at work would lead to a well-spanked wife, but who was he to judge? He’d never have admitted it, but deep down he had hoped that Mrs. Piquet would ask him to cane her, as a dispassionate third party. It wasn’t to be, but he was still glad to have been instrumental in unleashing Mrs. Piquet’s predilection.