Caught Out |

I’m Allan, seventy, divorced for twentyeight years, very well off, and have a beautiful architect designed house right on the coast on the edge of the Forth. I was successful in business, had a good I.T. network business of my own, and was the I.T. Director of a multinational investment management company on a significant salary and many fringe benefits. 

Although my own knowledge and understanding of stocks and shares is minimal, I was well looked after and advised by my fellow directors, and my personal portfolio was very valuable. By the time of my divorce at fortytwo, although expensive and heart breaking, it cleared my mind on several facts. My marriage failed basically because my wife lost interest in me and was not interested in playing the kinky ‘games’ which fascinated me … and still does. That is, I am fascinated by spanking. There are few more ually exciting sights to me than a lass’s bottom when it is bare, very red, obviously very well smacked, and certainly very sore.  

Now, that said, I am far from being a sadist, and I just hate the thought of hurting a lass. However, if she were to have similar interests to me and enjoyed being the naughty girl with the sore … very sore, strapped bottom, well, I would be in seventhheaven. 

Unfortunately, now at seventy, I still haven’t scratched that itch. So, I live in this lovely four bedroom house with stunning views out over the beach and water, and often look at spanking videos and photos on my computer and wish it was me spanking the women on the receiving end.  

The interesting part of the , and my life, started several months ago. I had to go into hospital for an operation and really needed some help and assistance when I came home to recuperate. I had a lady, Valerie, who came in three afternoons a week, to basically run the house. She organised my laundry, cleaning, dusting, and general house care, and she would often sit and chat with me. We would plan my meals, and I would do the shopping, or she often ordered my shopping online for me, and I would collect it. 

I met her when she was working some seven years ago behind the bar of a local hotel which I frequented, dining there regularly. She was thirtynine, also divorced, had a daughter who I first met last year when she was sixteen, and worked several part time jobs to support herself and her daughter. We got on very well, and I eventually found out that she was struggling with her finances. Her husband had left her and her daughter and gone back home to Poland for another woman about five years previously.

After a long chat one evening, when the bar was quiet, she opened up about her struggles. I really needed some help keeping my large home spick and span, so I asked her if she would like a job. I offered to pay her well, allowed her to use a small runaround car of mine so getting to my home would be easier, she agreed, and things went well. 

When her daughter, Marie, went to the local college, she would come to my home, meet up with her mum, and they would drive home together. I got to know Marie very well. She would often do little jobs for her mum or sit in my study and do her (school) homework. She had access to my computers and internet. Yes, I have several, as I still have the I.T bug. During school holidays she would come along frequently with her mum, so I came to an arrangement with her mum that I would pay her a small allowance also. This arrangement lasts to this day when Marie is seventeen. Our arrangement became slightly more ‘formal” and, with her mother’s permission, came to the house doing laundry, bedding and so on, two evenings a week. I paid her well for her time, got her her driving licence, and she passed her test when she was seventeen so she could also use the small car. 

So, when Valerie learned of my operation, which was at the beginning of July, she organised everything. She would still do her three afternoons but also two mornings, and she would have Marie pop around four evenings a week until I was better. This suited me down to the ground, as I then had company most of the time. 

One Friday evening, I was napping on my bed when Marie knocked on my door and asked if we could chat. As usual, she was in her skimpy clothes of a low cut vest top, very short skirt, and so had bare arms, legs and midriff, which always made me catch my breath. I waved for her to come in, and she sat in the armchair in my bedroom. She looked slightly pensive, even apprehensive. I asked what was bothering her and she was a bit reserved, so I prompted her that we knew each other very well by now. I was teaching her to play guitar, so she often spent longer evenings with me, and frequently would stop by on a Sunday, if we arranged it. I said that if she had some worries, concerns, or was in some sort of bother, we could chat it through, and I’m sure we could sort things out. 

So, she opened up. Tonight, while tidying my study, she noticed my main pc was still on. It has three large screens and is what I use for writing programs, my personal stories, and for other stuff, like accounts, banking, and so on. Apparently, I had been negligent on this occasion, which I put down to my medication, pain and tiredness, I had not shut down my computer or closed what I had been doing, which was watching spanking videos, looking at spanking photographs, reading spanking stories online, and writing my own spanking stories. Marie had knocked the keyboard, the pc jumped into life, and she saw everything. She was a little shocked, obviously, and concerned, but admitted she had looked at my stories. One in particular, she said, bothered her, as she thought it could have been about her.  

So, I was open and honest with her, answered her questions, and we discussed my divorce because of my fascination with spanking. I explained what it was that excited me about it. Marie asked if I liked hurting women, which I explained was a huge no for me, and I did my best to explain I enjoyed the thrill of watching a woman get a real hiding, loved seeing her bum get very red and sore, genuinely sore, but I couldn’t really explain to her why I did, but that I had fantasied about it for a very long time.  

Marie asked me whether I was ually aroused by the thought of giving a woman a spanking, to which I responded that I was. I realised that, as I said I was, I was getting an erection, and I also realised that, as I did, Marie was looking at the bulge in my trousers. However, she didn’t seem particularly turned off by that, and I wondered whether she was actually turned on. 

That was when Marie explained to me that her mum knew nothing about her own fantasies of being spanked. She told me how she would finger herself to huge orgasms when in bed, imagining herself being spanked by an older man. She then explained that the headmaster at her college was particularly strict, and she fantasied about being spanked or even caned by him, but, to her regret, she never had been.  

I wasn’t sure whether Marie was leading up to asking me to give her a spanking. Then I thought, why tell me what she had seen on my computer and about her own fantasies, if that wasn’t what she was going to ask for? Anyway, maybe she was too embarrassed to ask, or nervous perhaps? 

I asked her why she didn’t ask her mum to spank her. She said that her mum would spank her when she didn’t want to be spanked, whereas her fantasy was to be spanked more when she wanted to be spanked. It had to be by an older man, as well.  

Either way, I tried to ask the question in such a way that, if she scoffed at it, I would laugh it off, and did ask, “So if you give yourself orgasms thinking about being spanked, and I was to say to you that I would be happy to give you a spanking now, what would you say?” 

I was quite taken by the immediate response, albeit with a sense of nervousness in her voice, “Yes, please.” 

I still wasn’t certain, as this was something I had never done before, and asked, “So you want me to give you a spanking. Presumably on your bare bottom? Then, we would need to work out whether it should be a light spanking, a hard spanking, or a very hard spanking.” 

Marie jumped in immediately and explained, “I want a very very hard spanking on my bare bottom. I want to cry buckets, and, just as you want to see, I want my bottom to be extremely red, sore, and stinging.” 

I was getting a bit nervous at that response. How do you give a very very hard spanking that the person you are spanking can actually deal with? So, knowing one of the ways of stopping, I asked, “We could have a safe word, and if you can’t cope, you just say that and I will stop.” 

Marie came back immediately saying, “I don’t want a safe word. I know if I can tell you to stop, then I will bottle it and I will say the safe word early on. I want to leave it to you, knowing that I do want to cry buckets, real meaningful tears, and I do trust you to take me right up to my limits, whatever they are.” 

I nodded my head and said, “Okay, Marie. I will give you a very, very hard spanking.” 

I was surprised when she asked, “Do you have a cane? I would really love to get sixofthebest as well.” 

I had to admit, I was feeling more comfortable now, and replied, “I don’t have a cane, Marie, but I do have a leather tawse. I could give you several lashes with that?” 

From the excited look on Marie‘s face, I took it that she knew what a tawse was, and that was confirmed when she asked eagerly, “Is it a two pronged one?” 

I told her it was, and she again immediately replied, “Yes, please, that as well, and also really hard.”  

I was over the moon, because I had purchased the tawse quite a long time ago, but had never been able to use it, except on my pillow to learn how to use it properly. In fact, I had to keep it hidden away just in case anyone rummaged through my cupboards and found it. Now, though, I would be able to use it.  

I was ready to get going, so I told Marie that she needed to get properly into naughty girl mode. “If you are okay with this, please take your skirt and knickers off, and then go and face the wall in the corner, putting your hands on your head, whilst I go and get the tawse.” 

I was getting more excited as Marie didn’t hesitate to undo her skirt, push it down to the floor together with her knickers, and put them on the bed. She went to the corner of the room and stood there, putting her hands on her head and staring straight ahead at the wall which was just inches from her face. I waited a few moments, focusing on her unmarked bare bottom, knowing I was going to change that, before quickly going across the hallway to the spare bedroom where I had hidden the tawse. I quickly returned to my bedroom to find Marie still facing the wall with her hands on her head. I wondered how excited she might be, although more likely how very tense if this was the first time that she was going to be spanked. 

I walked over to my desk, turned the chair into the room, and sat down. I called out to Marie to come over and stand by me. She did, and was wideeyed as she saw me still holding the tawse. I wondered whether she was worried about the tawse, but from the look on her face it didn’t seem like that was the case. 

I put the tawse on the desk behind me, turned back and looked up at Marie, trying to keep a stern look on my face, and ordered, “Okay, naughty girl, get across my lap.” 

I need not have been worried about whether she would, because she did, and immediately. Moments later, Marie was fully across my lap, balancing with her hands on the floor, with her bare bottom perched right there on my lap, ready to be spanked, and, clearly wanting to be spanked. What a dream come true for me, and, hopefully, for Marie as well.  

I calmed myself down as best I could, because I needed to give this young lady what she wanted, and that meant me focusing. I really did want to take this seriously because it might be the one and only time that I could spank someone who wanted to be spanked, but I also owed it to Marie to make sure that she got what she wanted. 

I put my hand on her bottom and loved the feel of her skin. I rubbed in circles a few times, raised my hand, and brought my palm down on her bare cheek. I heard Marie gasp, but kept on going and landed more and more spanks on her bottom, both cheeks, sometimes alternately, and sometimes a few spanks on the same bottom cheek and then a few spanks on the other bottom cheek. I had always had in my mind how I would give a spanking, and now was able to do exactly that. I saw no reason to pause at any time, and whilst Marie did squirm around on my lap a bit, and let out several gasps, she stayed across my lap, which told me that she wanted it to continue.  

As I was spanking her bottom, I was thinking about doing the same to her lovely legs, but, remembering that the skirt that she was wearing was not very long at all, I couldn’t risk her red legs being seen as she walked home, so, I decided against that. If she did want another spanking ever, she could always remember to wear a much longer skirt, or even slacks, but that was a long way off. 

I kept the spanks coming, realising that Marie kept repeatedly saying, ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ Was she roleplaying now being the naughty girl, or was it her way of coping with the pain. I reckoned it was her way of coping, which I saw as positive to encourage me to spank her even harder. I don’t know why I thought about it that way, because actually it didn’t make sense. It was probably that I was really into giving the spanking now, and as Marie had said that she wanted to cry buckets, that’s how I put two and two together. 

After landing lots more spanks on Marie’s bare bottom cheeks, and they were turning a rather beautiful red colour, I realised that as she was saying, ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ there was a tinge to her voice that told me that she was on the verge of crying. It was actually a quite wonderful sound, and it encouraged me to continue to spank her bottom, which I did, until I realised she was properly crying. 

Even then, I didn’t stop spanking her, because she said she wanted a very very hard spanking, making her cry buckets. That didn’t mean just a few tears, but lots of tears. and whilst she was clearly struggling, I could see that she wanted this to happen. Her bottom was getting bright red, which I was enjoying doing, but not as bright red as I imagined that her bottom needed to be, certainly compared to some of the photographs that I had seen on my computer.  

I was conscious of the fact that Marie had stopped apologising, but I could hear her crying, loved the fact that she stayed across my lap, clearly not even trying to get off my lap, just squirming around, but nowhere near enough to slide off my lap. Indeed, it  was obvious that she wanted to stay across my lap and take very spank I was giving her. 

Once I had turned both bottom cheeks the bright glowing red I had always dreamed about, I knew it was time to stop spanking her. Of course, I was thrilled that she had said that she wanted to be thrashed with the tawse. As that was another dream of mine, as much as I was sorry I had to stop spanking her, I was looking forward to that next stage.  

I told Marie to get up, and smiled to myself that it took her a while to do that. Hopefully, she was okay with the way that I had spanked her, and now I would find out whether she would still agree to me thrashing her with the tawse, or say that she had had enough. 

Once Marie pushed herself up and was standing, I smiled again, as she was rubbing her bottom cheeks. That surely meant that I had given her a hard spanking, but she remained silent, except for the crying, so maybe she was happy enough with it. It was nice to see the tears staining her face, and I thought how she had better make sure that she washed her stained makeup off her face before leaving the house.  I wondered if she was right then worried about her makeup or her stinging bottom, and supposed the latter, for sure. 

After a few moments of enjoying watching Marie rub her bottom, I stood up, picked up the tawse, stepped away from the chair, and told Marie to bend over and clasp hold of the seat of the chair, so that I could thrash her with the tawse.  

Once again, she didn’t hesitate, and immediately bent over with her legs apart, which I knew meant it would help her balance, and maybe she knew that as well. At least, she would have to do the same if she was being caned.  

As I stood there, looking at her bright glowing red bottom, I could still hear her letting out lots of sobs, but knew that she would dissolve into uncontrolled crying after just a few lashes of the tawse. Would she stay in place or would she be unable to and stand up, I wondered? Well, she had done so well so far, I wouldn’t complain if she did stand up, but I somehow had it in my mind that she would to force herself to stay in position until I was ready to stop, because that was what she wanted. 

Just to make sure, I asked if she was ready, and she immediately replied that she was, even though she was sobbing. I certainly found that a positive invitation, as I pulled my arm back and then brought the tawse down onto her glowing bright red bottom cheeks. I was surprised by the yelp she let out, although I shouldn’t have been, as I knew it was going to really hurt. However, I could see that, as much as Marie was struggling, she was trying to stay bent over. So, I pulled my arm back again, landed the tawse a second time, got another yelp, and when I landed the third lash, I could see she was grappling to stay bent over. That was so wonderful, I told myself, because it showed that she didn’t want me to stop. 

I savoured the sight of the fresh lash marks now painted across her bottom cheeks. They must sting so much, I thought to myself, but Marie obediently stayed bent over and so clearly wanted the rest of the lashes.  

I landed the fourth lash and the fifth and finally the sixth lash. Somehow, Marie managed to stay bent over, but yelped each time and was now crying uncontrollably. It was a wonderful sound to hear, and I was hoping, as well, that that was what she wanted to have happen to her.  

I waited a few more moments, and then told Marie to stand up and face me. She did take several moments to do so, and, as soon as she did, once again her hands rushed to her bottom. However, I knew that it was far better if she didn’t rub and just experienced the stinging, and so I told her to go back into the corner and stay there with her hands on her head.  

Marie was still crying quite freely, but she was quick enough to do as she was told, and moments later she was standing in the corner with her hands on her head. What was so great, for me, was that this time when I looked at her bottom, it was such a gorgeous bright glowing red, with the slight tinge of some bruising because of the tawse. Even so, she was standing still, sobbing, maybe forcing herself to keep her hands on her head rather than rub her bottom, but it made sense to do it like that. 

I left Marie there for ten minutes, by which time the crying had stopped but she was still sniffing back tears. That was good, I told myself, and I just hoped that she thought the same. 

When I did tell Marie her punishment was over, she came up to me and threw her arms around my neck, gave me such a big hug, and thanked me so much. 

I did love how her makeup was smudged and running down her face, and I reminded her to wash her face and redo her makeup before leaving. 

Marie laughed when I told her that. Then, looking seriously at me, she said two things. First, she begged me not to tell her mum. I immediately agreed to that.  

The second thing was more surprising. She said that it would really help her if I checked on how well she folded my clothes and bed linen after washing them, which she had yet to do today. The reason for checking, she told me, was that if there was any shortfall, I should give her another spanking, maybe a bit harder than this time, and another half dozen or more lashes with the tawse, before she left to go home.  

I knew how I had imagined giving a naughty girl a second spanking a couple of hours after the first, because that would really make her bottom sting. Now, here was Marie asking for that. So, I immediately agreed, and judged from her smile that she fully wanted that to happen to her. 

 Marie then added a request that, if she ever deserved it in future when she came here, maybe because she said something offhand to me, I should spank her again and give her the tawse. She gave me the reason for that request. She was often thinking about being spanked when she should be doing her college work, and having a real stinging bottom would help her do her college work better. I realised that was an invitation to spank her whenever she wanted to be spanked, like giving me a nod and a wink to thrash her again. Marie smiled when I agreed to it, and gave me another hug.  

Marie then went to the desk, picked up her clothes, stepped back into her knickers and skirt, and, smiling with her tearfilled red eyes, she told me she would put the laundry in the washing machine and then get on with her college work. She was still smiling as she left the room, rubbing her bottom, but made it clear she saw the bulge in my trousers as she did so. She knew how turned on I was by spanking her. 

What then surprised me, was that I was still upstairs, and Marie was downstairs, but clearly, my goodness, she must be fingering herself to one of those huge orgasms she told me about. Surely she could have made her gasps quieter? Then I realised, she wanted me to hear her, to make sure that I did spank her again, and harder. That was when I clasped hold of my already stiff penis, and made sure that when I came, she heard my erotic gasps from downstairs.  

I doubted that would be my last orgasm of the day, and, hopefully, not Marie’s either. It also wouldn’t be the last time I thrashed the lovely Marie, and knew that was exactly what she wanted as well.