The very night Jasmine left I was cleaning away my tea things when I heard a knock on my kitchen door. Julia was wearing her full riding gear: tight riding breeches, white top demurely buttoned to the chin, red hair tied back in a severe ponytail (did I mention her hair? Glossy, a beautiful auburn red. I knew now, from experience, that it was her natural colour.) ‘Just had the most exhilarating ride on Bullet,’ she said. ‘And now I feel the need for another form of exercise. Please tell me to leave if you’re busy..’ I was not busy, and gestured her inside with a smile. 

Without another word, she handed me her riding crop, an old heavy one, slightly frayed from years of use. She looked about her for a moment, considered, then bent gracefully over the kitchen table. A vision that I had dreamt about for so many years faced me. Her backside was fuller than her daughter’s, which made it roughly twice as desirable. Her breasts pressed against the worn wood and she reached out to grab the sides of the table.

I was surveying the scene and wondering just how to react - this was completely new territory for me - when Julia twisted her head round to make eye contact. ‘I’ve neglected Jasmine over many years,’ she said. ‘I should have been far stricter with her. As strict as you’ve been with her these past few weeks. Exactly as strict. I’m asking you to help me make amends, starting now. It might take a while. Perhaps until the summer. Perhaps even longer’

I smoothed my hand over the fabric of her riding breeches stretched tight over the gorgeously rounded cheeks of her bottom, then took my position and bent the crop in my hands. I made a decision. ‘I’m here to help, Julia,’ I said, and then I measured the crop against the fullness of her backside and began.   

Crack!

The first stroke bit into the tight fabric and bounced back. Not as hard as the strokes Jasmine had suffered, but hard enough to sting. ‘Aarrh!’ Julia raised her head, grimacing. 

‘Too hard?’ I stopped, moved to the head of the table. I would have been happy to stop at that, and take her there and then. Or, even better, in my bed. Another fantasy I had imagined often over the years, and a thought that that made my cock, already hard, strain painfully against my jeans. 

But Julia stayed down. ‘On the contrary. I can take it a lot harder than that. Jasmine did, after all, and I’ve been doing this a lot longer than her. I just haven’t tasted the crop for a while, that’s all.’ She glanced at the bulge in my jeans and smiled. ‘So I can stand it a lot harder, and for as long as you can. Lay it on.’

‘Ok, but on one condition,’ I said. ‘After we finish here, you come to my bed.’ Her eyes met mine, a serious look on her face. Had I gone too far? She was my employer after all. But then she smiled. ‘Deal,’ she said.

I took my position, laid the crop against the mounded beauty of her backside and started again. This time I didn’t hold back, and I didn’t stop. The whip cracked against the strained fabric again and again, each stroke laying a white-hot trail of pain full across both cheeks. I made sure I covered every inch of her rounded fullness; there was more to cover than there had been with Jasmine but I did my best. The noise of whip meeting tight fabric echoed round the small room. Julia bucked and pressed her hips hard against the table, hanging on for dear life, crying out the pain. But then, just as her daughter had done, she became quieter as the whip continued to flay her punished cheeks, and started to move in a different way. Her cries turned to moans, louder and louder, until she called out for me to stop.

‘No more! I need that cock of yours, right now, right here!’ And she straightened, slid her riding breeches down, kicked off one shoe, freed one foot, spread her legs wide and bent across the table again. A mass of red stripes criss-crossed her rear, covering it totally. I didn’t have time to admire my handiwork, or to think about our agreement to use my bed, but unbuckled my belt, pulled my jeans down and plunged in to the root. Julia cried out again, a throaty, husky cry, and pushed her over-heated rear hard against my groin. Almost immediately her legs stiffened then started to shudder uncontrollably as she gripped the table hard. Eyes closed tight, she cried out as she came in a jerking, shuddering rush. My groin was liberally bathed in her fluid as I held my position, marvelling at sight of the reddened. striped backside and the strong, lithe body on the end of my cock. 

Slowly, Julia pushed herself up from the table and turned slightly, freeing my erection. It made a noise like a cork coming out of a bottle then swayed gently, patiently awaiting the next act. She took a deep breath and turned towards me, eyes bright, face flushed. ‘I think you mentioned something about a bedroom?’ she said. She gracefully stepped out of her riding breeches, gripped my erection firmly and led me towards the stairs, and up to heaven.

Later, much later, we lay side by side in my bed, sated and spent. My mind was still struggling to catch up with the speed of this, the realisation of so many fantasies, some of which I hadn’t even realised I had. Julia laid a hand on my cock, making it twitch slightly. She smiled. ‘Some life left in the little man,’ she said, ‘but I must say, I’m disappointed in you, John.’ She gave me her best serious look. ‘I’ve been here for at least an hour, and you haven’t even offered me so much as a cup of tea.’ 

I laughed and slid out of the sheets, bowed formally. ‘At your service, ma’am,’ I said. ‘Milk, no sugar I seem to recall.’ She giggled like a little girl and pulled the sheets up to her chin. ‘That will do nicely. And a biscuit would be nice. I feel unaccountably hungry.’

I was hungry too, so instead of a biscuit, I made us a sandwich. It felt strange, wonderfully strange, to sit in my bed beside Julia, both of us naked, drinking tea and eating a cheese sandwich in post-coital bliss. ‘Now,’ I said. ‘I want to hear the whole story. I know about Jasmine, I practically grew up with her, but I realise now that I don’t really know you at all. For instance, I had no idea that you wanted, liked, having your gorgeous backside thrashed to within an inch of its life.’ 

Julia sighed, put her cup down, turned towards me, sliding down in the bed and placing a hand on my thigh. Perilously close to my cock, which was starting to show definite signs of life. Her eyes, I saw, possibly for the first time, were a grey-green. They were alive, and seemed, to me at least, to be full of fun. Dirty fun.

‘Very well,’ she said, ‘If you’re seated comfortably, I’ll begin.’ 

The story began in the boarding school she was sent to, where corporal punishment was very much practiced. ‘In fact,’ said Julia, smiling fondly at the memory, ‘it was part of everyday life. At first, I hated it, especially when I went up to the senior school and we got the cane. That really stung, especially if it was Miss Taylor, the assistant head, wielding it. In time, I realised there was more to a good caning than a well striped, very sore bottom. I realised it made me very horny indeed. My best friend, Samantha, discovered this about the same time and in fifth year we started to compete, see who could get the most canings in a week. I won. And each time I was caned I gave myself to pleasure and had the most amazing orgasms right after. 

But when I got home, well, that was when the fun really started. Mummy and daddy came to get me, and on the way home they told me that the school had told them all about my behaviour. I can remember the combination of fear and sexual excitement that gripped me all the way home, as daddy told me what I was in for. Pretty much the moment we got through the door I was taken into my room, bent over the end of the bed, and had the daylights thrashed out of me by daddy’s belt. It was the sorest my poor bottom had ever been. But afterwards, I gave myself the most fantastic orgasm. 

I was all contrition when I came down for dinner that night. Daddy apologised for being so angry with me that he had done what he did with his belt. Then my mother spoke up. ‘So we’ve decided, Julia, that it will be me who delivers the rest of your punishments.’ I was confused. ‘The rest?’ ‘But of course,’ my mother said. ‘Six times Miss Taylor had to cane you for your behaviour, so six times I will do the same. Or rather five. We’ll take today’s belting as the first one. We’ll start the day after tomorrow. And if your behaviour warrants it while you’re here on holiday, I’ll just have to carry on.’ And that was all that was said about it. A very straightforward woman, my mother. Had a strong right arm, too. Turns out she had bought a cane specially, which she was every bit as proficient at using as Miss Taylor. Strangely, my behaviour didn’t improve much so my bottom stung for the whole holiday. It was heaven. Then the cane broke and she had to improvise. That holiday, and on the holidays that followed, my bottom was walloped by a leather belt, a slipper, a carpet beater, and of course the good old riding crop.’ 

Throughout Julia’s reminiscence, I had been aware of my growing erection. So, it turned out, had Julia. Her hand moved down my thigh until she encircled the base of my cock. She looked up at me, eyes glowing. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that little story seems to have woken up mister willy. We’d better see what we can do for him.’ And she pulled back the covers and lowered her head to my groin. She started with little kisses up and down the shaft, then the tongue got involved. Eventually, after about a century of her close attention my hands were fists, clenching the sheet and I was unable to do anything but watch in awe as Julia knelt, raised her head and lowered her mouth on to the engorged, throbbing head of my cock. Her red hair fell like a curtain around the scene. But I didn’t need to see what was happening. I had never felt anything like it in my life. As her lips moved down, down, her hand, encircling the base, moved up. I raised my hips from the bed. ‘Jesus... Julia... Coming..’ was all I could manage, and I came, and came, into her mouth. She didn’t make a sound, and didn’t stop sucking until I was spent. 

Julia sat up and wiped her mouth lasciviously, looked like nothing other than the cat that had just got the cream. Her red hair was wild and her eyes were more alive than anything I had ever seen. ‘Jesus, Juia. Where did you learn to do that? I’ve never..’  

‘At a very expensive Swiss finishing school. The best money daddy ever spent on me, although he didn’t know everything that I was being taught. But for now, my dear John, let’s just enjoy the moment.’ And she lay her gorgeous body down, hooking her leg over mine, hand stroking my chest. I was at peace. Julia was at peace. All was well with the world. I wanted this moment to last for ever. It lasted about five minutes. 

‘Right.’ A hand on my chest, Julia pushed herself up. ‘Don’t you move.’ She climbed out of bed, started pulling on her clothes. ‘I’m going to get something from the house. I’ll be five minutes.’ And she was gone. I heard the door close and her footsteps on the path. Just like Jasmine, she broke into a run. What was in that house of hers that was so good it made them run to it? I did as I was told and didn’t move. That was fine by me. I lay and thought the last few weeks. How they had changed my life. Thought about thrashing Jasmine’s impudent, haughty backside. About the mind-blowing, urgent, sweaty sex with Julia after each thrashing. About using the crop on Julia. About fucking her over the kitchen table. My kitchen table. I smiled at the memory. Having my breakfast, my tea, at that table would never be the same again. Then I thought about the sex we’d had in this bed. The slow, langorous, almost religious sex that seemed to go on for hours. Then I thought about Julia’s mouth, and felt fresh stirrings. I suddenly wanted Julia back now, wanted to feel her warm softness, her strength as we moved together, hear her cries as she came.

The door opened downstairs, clicked shut. Footsteps on the stairs, then Julia, triumphant, with a little cloth bag over her shoulder, from which she took a dusty bottle of wine and two glasses. ‘A bottle of the good stuff.’ She shucked off her clothes and produced a corkscrew from her bag. Prepared. I sat up in bed and watched as, gloriously naked, she pulled the cork free. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, the way she twisted her body, the curves of her hips, her smoothly muscled legs, all moving easily, beautifully; I drank it all in, marvelling. Her face was serious, concentrating on the matter in hand, framed by her red hair; somewhere along the line she had lost the ponytail and now her hair was full and wild, transforming her from prim lady of the manor to wanton slut. Happy wanton slut. The cork popped and she stood. ‘What?’ She was watching me watching her with a stupid grin on my face. 

‘You’re fantastic, Julia. Wonderful. Amazing. A sexy. Powerful. Woman. I can’t quite believe all this. That you’re here, with me. Naked. Opening a bottle of wine. After we’ve just had sex. Three times. That’s all.’

She laughed. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it, lover boy. I’m here because I want to be. Because I can’t get enough of that body of yours. Your muscles when you leathered Jasmine, then, finally, me. Your extremely shapely member and its effect on me. And you’re kind to the horses too. You’re a good person, John. Not to mention sexy. That’s all. Now here, take this glass of extremely good wine while I get in there beside you.’

We relaxed, like a married couple, side by side, and sipped the red nectar. It was very good. I could feel its power revitalising me as it spread its velvet warmth through my body. ‘Wow,’ I said, ‘that’s good stuff. I never realised wine had such aphrodisiac qualities.’ 

Julia looked sideways at me. ‘Why do you think I brought it? But while we wait for you to get your strength up..’ her hand moved under the covers to stroke my recumbent cock, which responded with a definite twitch. Julia raised an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps not too long,’ she said with a smile that was pure lust. ‘How did you feel when you were walloping Jasmine’s arse with the crop? I mean, I know how you felt in one way,’ a finger touched the tip of my cock, ‘but can you honestly say you wouldn’t have taken things a bit further with her if I hadn’t been watching, and um, waiting?’   

I smiled, and twined my fingers in her hair, applying gentle pressure until she was looking up at me. ‘Julia, you’re the one I want. You’re a woman. A sexy, desirable woman. Jasmine’s a girl.’

She smiled. ‘And that is the right answer. I must reward you. As soon as you’ve got your.. breath back. But have you ever wondered why my daughter runs back to the house each time when you’ve tanned her hide? She does what I would have done, goes straight to her room and has a session with the big vibrator I don’t know about. That’s why I haven’t disciplined her physically since Gerald left. He used to spank her and I could see she was getting into it. After he left I used a slipper on her once, and she almost had an orgasm. It was just too embarrassing. And then you came along.’ She sighed and returned her gaze to my manhood, which was now showing signs of life. ‘Gerald used to spank me too. Never anything else, that was enough to turn him on, the selfish pig. One of the reasons he had to go. But I haven’t been spanked over anyone’s knee in such a long time.’ And she stroked me slowly, hand starting to encircle my shaft. I knew Julia well enough by now to understand the game. She’d been leading up to this for the last five minutes. 

‘Why, Miss Julia,’ I said, ‘I’ve had a splendid idea. Why don’t I give you a spanking right now? Just get yourself across my knee, and..’ I broke off at an explosion of activity. Julia was now, as if by magic, draped across me. Her warm, solid body was stretched out on the mattress, with her hips on my lap, emphasising the generous curves of her bottom. Her legs stretched out to my right, she propped herself on her arms to my left. Her red hair fell in waves across her shoulders. Her perfectly naked, reddened backside was perfectly positioned to receive a spanking. She giggled with schoolgirl enthusiasm.

‘I thought you were never going to catch on. I’ve been watching you using these big hands of yours to do boring stuff like heave saddles around for such a long time, wondering what it would feel like to be spanked by them. Soundly spanked. Eeek!’ The last sound resulted from the first spank. My hand made contact with a sharp smack, her gorgeous bottom juddered, and a red handprint appeared. 

‘Oh, oh, that’s lovely,’ she breathed. ‘But please, not quite so soft next time. I’m not a china doll.’ 

‘That you’re not,’ I said, and swung my hand down hard. This time the smack was louder, and Julia’s whole body jerked from the blow. 

‘Aaaah! Better, much better,’ she gasped. My hand rose and fell, rose and fell, turning her cheeks a darker red. I concentrated on coverage as well as power, and gradually Julia’s squeals stopped and she began moving herself, her legs, her hips, in a different way, a seductive, sexy grinding directly on my groin. Naturally, I was responding down there. It would have been rude not to. Julia was moaning now, head bowed, hands clutching at the sheets. My hand was landing with a resounding smack now, sometimes alternating between the left and right cheeks, and occasionally a full wallop across both. At a particularly hard blow Juila twisted and grabbed my hand. ‘That’s enough,’ she gasped. ‘After the riding crop... I need you inside me.’

I felt the same way; slipped out from under her and eased her legs apart as I positioned myself above her reddened backside. My erection found the entrance to heaven and I pushed inside. Julia gave a long shudder and gripped the sheets, head pressed down. A muffled moan escaped her and she started moving, pressing her bottom upwards and angling her hips to give me full access. I knew she was close, and after only a few thrusts she came, legs trembling as her orgasm surged through her. 

I lay still, my erection rock-hard and pulsing slowly within her velvet grip. She turned her head. Her eyes were still glazed from her orgasm. ‘Oh my god. That was just…’ Then she twisted and pulled free. She pulled me down the bed until I was lying flat, my erection waving like a flagpole. ‘And now, super-stud, it’s your turn.’ And she straddled me and carefully lowered herself on to my pole, smoothly taking me all before she sighed a sigh of complete satisfaction. ‘That feels so very, very, good,’ she said. ‘Almost seems a shame to move, but I’m afraid I just have to.’  She moved slowly at first, then gradually increased the pace, until she was bouncing on my lap like a teenager, hair flying, her legs - legs strengthened by years of riding something else - powering her as she rode me. I reached up to hold her breasts, then ran my hands down, over her trim waist, held her hips as they pounded me into the mattress, then her legs, feeling the muscles moving. The sight of her sexual abandon and sheer animal pleasure and the feel of her lithe, strong body as she moved and moaned above me was too much. ‘God, Julia, going to come..’ She smiled and slammed her hips down hard as I felt my cock thicken and twist as I came like a fountain, deep inside my lover. 

Julia pulled free, lay down panting. I turned my head, kissed her full on the lips. ‘I think..’ But I didn’t get to say what I thought, as Julia turned my kiss into a full-blown, breath-stopping session, lips pressed together, tongues entwined. When we broke free, gasping for breath, she put a hand to my lips. ‘Don’t speak. Don’t say anything. Let’s not spoil the perfect moment.’ I lay beside her, body utterly spent, every muscle relaxed to the point of exhaustion, listened to her breathing change as she drifted into sleep, and thought about what she had just said, and what I hadn’t.  

I woke alone. I called her name as I pulled on my dressing gown and went downstairs, but I could tell the house was empty. A note on the kitchen table: “John, my very dear John, I’m sorry I have to slip away like this but I must get back to the house before Mrs Brown’s up and about. See you later. Perhaps we could go for a ride?!  xxx”

At least I knew where I stood. I was there for a quick shag (or even a slow shag), and to discipline her daughter for her, but the rest of the help, in particular the redoubtable housekeeper, Mrs Brown, mustn’t find out.