Helen Ladbrooke was a fifty-year-old uniformed police sergeant and at the moment, although she was on duty, she was driving to the house of a friend of hers.
Helen had never married, but she had had several lovers of both sexes and various ages, and the house that she was going to was that of one of her lovers, forty-three-year-old Sharon Potts although it was not really Sharon that she was going to see.
Sharon, who was divorced, had an eighteen-year-old son named Trent, and Sharon had asked Helen if she could have a word with him.
Trent had been arrested for spraying graffiti and, although he had been let off with a caution, Sharon was concerned about his future, and Trent took little notice of his mother. Sharon hoped that a talking-to from the authoritative Helen might help.
Helen arrived at Sharon's house, and Sharon let her in, giving no indication of their sexual relationship. Trent did not know that his mother and Helen were occasional lovers, but if he had done so, it would have turned him on, because he would not mind giving sergeant Ladbrooke a good fucking, and he quite fancied his mother.
Trent had quite a stable of mature women, some married and some not, that he serviced with his impressive penis and lovemaking skills.
"Trent come here, I have asked sergeant Ladbrooke to come and talk to you," Sharon called to her son.
Trent appeared, thinking that he might have some fun out of this.
"Do you want me to stay?" Sharon asked Helen.
"You can if you wish, but perhaps a private word with your son would be best," replied Helen, so Sharon left them to it.
"Stop smirking, I don't think you know how serious this is," said Helen to Trent.
"Yes sergeant, no sergeant, three bags full sergeant," replied Trent.
Helen bristled, she would have liked to slap the youth's face, but he was incredibly sexy and Helen felt a reaction between her legs.
"What you did is serious and you were lucky that you were not charged; in some countries, you could have got a judicial caning for what you did," said Helen, finding uttering the last few words to be very erotic.
"And I bet that you would like to do the caning," said Trent, smirking again.
Helen was taken aback by Trent's confidence, but he was right in what he had just said, she would have loved to have this youth bent over bare-arsed as she flexed a cane.
"That could be arranged," Helen heard herself saying, she possessed a couple of canes that had been used on lovers of various ages and of both sexes, and on her.
Helen's response momentarily stunned Trent, and he and Helen had eye contact for what seemed like ages, both wondering what would happen next.
"Are you serious?" asked Trent, finding the idea of taking a caning from a mature woman in uniform to he highly erotic.
This conversation was not going anything like the way that Helen had envisaged, she expected to just be telling Trent about the error of his ways, warning him about his future, and telling him how much his mum was worrying about him. This was not that sort of conversation at all.
"What if I am?" responded Helen, trying to buy some time to think.
"It might be fun," smiled Trent, his hands placed on his hips with his fingers pointing to the very obvious bulge in his jeans.
Helen's eyes went to the bulge, and she, sub-consciously, licked her lips.
"Trent, this had supposed to be a serious conversation," said Helen.
"Who is not being serious?" responded Trent, now slowly rubbing the lump in his jeans with his right hand.
Helen was still not convinced that Trent was serious, but he appeared to be offering to take, or even welcoming, a caning from her and he also seemed to be offering more beyond that. Helen was used to being the dominant person in conversations, but she was losing control of this one.
"I have talked to you as your mother asked, I think that I should go," said Helen, weakly and defeated.
"Shall I come to your house tonight, sergeant Ladbrooke?" asked Trent, with that smirk again.
"I don't know, phone me later, private number," said a now flustered Helen, handing Trent her card with various phone numbers on it.
"Will do," smiled Trent, putting the card inside his jeans.
"I have done all I can, don't know if I have done any good," Helen called to Sharon.
"Thanks for trying Helen, I hope so," said Sharon, coming into the room and looking at her son, but not able to tell anything by his expression.
Helen glanced at Trent, and then left, knowing that she would very likely be seeing him again later.
Helen went off duty at three in the afternoon, although Trent did not know that. He had not yet phoned her, and Helen was starting to wonder if he would, she was very much hoping that he did.
Trent had had no doubts about phoning Helen, he was sure that a caning would hurt, but he was still finding the idea very exciting. He also liked the idea of seeing Helen Ladbrooke's naked mature body, she was a curvy woman with what appeared to be large breasts and a big arse.
At nearly five o'clock, he phoned her.
"Hello," said Helen, not recognising the number, but thinking and hoping that it would be Trent.
"Hello sergeant Ladbrooke, it is Trent," said the youth.
"Ah, young Mister Potts, I was wondering if you would phone," said Helen, feeling more in control now than she did during the earlier conversation.
"Yeah, so do you want me to come to your house tonight?" asked Trent.
"That depends on what you will be coming for," replied Helen.
"How about we discuss that when I get there?" responded Trent.
"No, you tell me now or you don't come," said Helen, in her most authoritative voice.
"Okay, are you serious about caning me?" said Trent.
"Very, it might do you good and you seem to like the idea," answered Helen.
"What time shall I be there?" said Trent.
"Do you have anything in mind for after the caning?" asked Helen.
"Would you like me to fuck you, sergeant Ladbrooke?" responded Trent.
"I think that I would like that very much," replied Helen.
"Shall I tell my mum I might not be home tonight?" continued Trent.
"Yes, that might be a good idea," answered Helen.
"What time shall I arrive?" asked Trent.
"As soon as you want," replied Helen.
"Will you wear your uniform to cane me?" said Trent.
"Of course," said Helen. It was not often that police uniforms were taken home, but Helen wanted to add to the judicial element of the caning.
"I will be there very soon," said an eager-sounding Trent.
"I am looking forward to it," said Helen.
Trent told his mother that he was going out and might be out all night. That was not unusual, Sharon knew that her son was probably fucking a female but she had no idea that there were several females that he pleasured, and usually they were of her age, or older.
Sharon hoped that whoever she was, she assumed that it was just one female, that her son was taking precautions, the idea of him becoming a father and her a grandmother, did not appeal.
Trent walked to Helen's house, it was just over a mile because although he had got a driver's licence, he did not own a car and Sharon was reluctant to let him use hers.
He knocked on Helen's door, and she answered it in her full police uniform.
"Ah, Mister Potts here for your punishment, come in," said Helen, stepping aside to let Trent enter.
"Yes, sergeant Ladbrooke, " replied Trent, he was a bit subdued but also sexually aroused.
"Follow me," said Helen after she had closed the door, and she led Trent past her living room to a smaller room.
"In here," said Helen, opening the door.
Trent entered the room to see, amongst other things, a headmistress-type desk with a cane on it.
Helen walked to the other side of the desk and picked up the cane.
"Trent Potts, you have been caught spraying graffiti, you will receive nine strokes of the cane on your bare buttocks, do you have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?" said Helen, bending the cane between her hands.
"No sergeant," said the normally very confident Trent, his voice trembling slightly.
"Very well, you will lower your jeans and your underwear and you will bend over this desk and grip the far side," said Helen, still flexing the cane.
Trent's hands were shaking a bit as he undid and lowered his jeans, he then lowered his boxers to reveal a very impressive, almost fully erect penis. Helen looked at his cock but did not comment, she moved behind Trent as he bent over the desk and gripped the far side.
"You will remain in that position until I tell you to stand, do you understand?" said Helen, looking at Trent's firm and sexy buttocks. Helen was very turned on.
"Yes sergeant," said Trent weakly, gripping the desk firmer.
Helen moved the youth's T-shirt further away from his bare arse. She bent the cane again, slashed it through the air making Trent's buttocks clench in reflex, and then tapped the cane against his backside.
Helen raised the cane, it whistled through the air then CRACK it made contact with Trent's bare arse.
"Oh fuck," yelled Trent, a split-second after impact.
Helen waited twenty seconds before raising the cane then CRACK the second stroke landed.
"Argggh," shouted Trent, as his upper body raised but he kept his grip on the desk. A slight smile spread across Helen's face.
Helen watched two red lines appear on the youth's backside then CRACK she landed the third stroke slightly lower.
"Shit! Fuck!" responded Trent, his upper body again lifting.
After a further twenty seconds, CRACK Helen lashed the next stroke down.
Trent's body lifted again, and he groaned. He slightly swayed his hips and lifted one foot and then the other slightly off the floor.
CRACK stroke five made contact with the youth's bottom, he was getting suitably punished.
"Argggh, oh, oh," shouted Trent, and this time one hand left the far side of the desk as his body lifted.
"Get down, boy," Helen said sternly, and Trent got back into position.
There were now five distinct red lines on the young man's arse.
CRACK Helen put even more power into the next stroke.
"Fucking hell, fuck, fuck, fuck," shouted Trent, and his hands left the desk and went to his buttocks.
"Take your hands away, get back in position," shouted Helen, and very reluctantly, Trent did so. He knew the caning would hurt but this was something else, and there were still three strokes to come. Helen could not see Trent's penis, but if she had been able to, she would have seen that it was fully erect.