Catherine's Letters (11 page)

Now Adrienne was not so sure. She tugged anxiously at the waist of her skirt, turning to check her appearance in the hall mirror. Her tennis whites, bought when she had joined a local club, foolishly thinking she would have time to play, had not seen the outside of the wardrobe for some months. At least she had found a use for them now, she told herself.

The pristine white shirt was tucked into the smart skirt, which finished around the middle of her thighs. Her legs were bare all the way down to her ankles, where demure sports socks and trainers gave her a girlish appearance. This had, of course, been the effect she had been going for, and she had completed the picture by wearing her hair in bunches, tied with red ribbons.

When she had told Maria she wanted to be totally dominated and put under another’s control, the idea of roleplaying a schoolgirl in gym kit seemed a natural one. Adrienne reached under her skirt and pulled her knicker elastic so the fabric covered all of her soon-to-be burning cheeks.

She checked her watch. Stand in the hall for exactly 15 minutes, Maria had ordered, then knock on the lounge door. Not a second more or less. She had a minute and a half to go and the knot of nervous tension in her belly was growing ever tighter.

At the appointed time she tapped on the door. ‘Come in!’ Adrienne barely recognised the voice which barked the command. Maria was obviously well into her latest persona as the bitch of a gym teacher.

Adrienne opened the door and crept like a mouse into her own living room. Closing the door, she took a couple of steps forward and stopped, clasping her hands behind her back. ‘You wanted to see me, miss?’ she said, trying to sound as sweet and virginal as possible.

‘I most certainly did!’ Maria was sitting at Adrienne’s writing desk, and did not even turn to acknowledge her presence. Dressed in scuffed trainers, tracksuit trousers and sweatshirt, she looked as if she was ready for a serious track coaching session. ‘What’s this I hear about you missing your tennis lesson last week?’

‘I was injured, miss,’ Adrienne replied. While they had decided on the excuse Maria was going to use to wallop Adrienne’s backside, they felt the script should be improvised, with Maria leading the way. Adrienne soon realised her friend was wasted as a receptionist, and might have missed her true calling as an actress.

‘Bad injury, was it?’ Maria turned to face Adrienne. Her expression was very different from the warm, friendly smile she normally wore. Now her mouth was set in a stern line and her eyes glared a challenge.

‘Yes miss, my calf. A torn muscle, I think.’ Even though this was play-acting, she was beginning to feel a delicious fear of what Maria had planned for her.

‘A torn calf muscle? That must have made walking very difficult.’

‘Yes it did, miss. I could barely move, let alone play tennis.’

‘Then how do you explain the fact you were out clubbing the same night?’

Adrienne knew exactly what was coming, but still felt her stomach drop like a runaway elevator. ‘Clubbing, miss? I don’t know what you mean!’

‘Don’t make it worse for yourself by lying. You were seen by one of the other teachers, in a nightclub, dancing energetically by all accounts. That certainly doesn’t sound like a girl with a torn calf muscle. Tell me the truth now – why didn’t you turn up for your tennis lesson?’

‘I – I didn’t feel like it miss,’ Adrienne mumbled, twisting her fingers together behind her back and staring at her shoes. She could even feel herself blushing, as well as her excitement rising.

‘You didn’t feel like it? Is that all? You just didn’t feel like going to an all-important practice session, even though the county trials are in less than a month?’

‘I’m sorry, miss. I promise I won’t miss any more.’ Maria was playing the scene so convincingly Adrienne began to believe she was actually guilty of something.

‘You most certainly won’t be skipping practice any more, young lady, and I intend to make sure of it by giving you a punishment you won’t ever forget.’

‘Oh no, miss, not detention!’

‘No, not detention.’

‘Lines? Do you want me to write lines, miss?’

‘No, I don’t want you to write any lines. But I shall certainly be making some.’ Adrienne couldn’t help herself and grinned at Maria’s joke. Maria did not seem amused. ‘Wipe that smile off your face! By the time I’ve finished with you there won’t be anything to laugh about. I’m going to make my lines with this.’ She pulled the cane from under the desk, waving it with a theatrical flourish.

Adrienne’s hands flew to her face. ‘Oh please, miss, don’t cane me! Not on my bottom! I promise I won’t be naughty again.’

‘And I guarantee you won’t be after you’ve had a taste of this. But before I cane you I’m going to be nice to you – I’m going to spank you so your bottom’s warm for the cane. Come here and get over my lap.’

Adrienne did not see how spanking her could be considered being nice, but it fitted perfectly with the fantasy she had developed since reading Catherine’s fourth letter. She walked self-consciously to Maria, who was hanging the cane on the back of her chair, which she had turned to face the room. She sat with her legs together and waited.

Adrienne stood on Maria’s right, looking down at the girl’s slender legs and wondering if they would take her weight. Maria seemed sure of it, so Adrienne went over.

The first sensation was of her hands sinking into the carpet, then the blood rushing to her head. This soon equalised and she settled down to enjoy the novel feeling of Maria’s warm thighs beneath her crotch. She felt a hand caressing her back through the sports shirt. All of a sudden, her skirt was lifted. She braced herself for the first slap, but it did not come.

‘What do you call these?’ Maria demanded.

‘What do I call what, miss?’ Adrienne was genuinely puzzled.

‘These, my girl!’ Maria pinged the knicker elastic around Adrienne’s right thigh, making her wince in shock and pain.

‘My knickers miss,’ said Adrienne, still bemused but going along with wherever Maria had decided to take the scene.

‘And why,’ she asked, ‘are they blue, and not white?’ Maria reinforced the question by twanging the elastic around Adrienne’s leg a second time.

‘Ow! I’m sorry, miss! I didn’t think it mattered!’ This was for real. When she had been getting changed she had not thought the colour of her underwear would be an issue. She’d assumed they would not be on long enough.

‘There’s a reason we ask you girls to wear whites. Not blues, whites. That means everything.’ Without warning, Maria landed the first slap.

‘Ow!’ Adrienne squealed. It had not been particularly hard, but had taken her by surprise. Besides, she wanted to give Maria a thrill. So she bucked and wriggled and whined. ‘Oh, not so hard please, miss!’

‘You’ll be spanked much harder than that before I’ve finished with you,’ Maria said solemnly. ‘Now take your punishment and don’t make such a fuss.’ She slapped Adrienne’s other cheek, this time a little more severely.

‘Ow! Aah!’ moaned Adrienne. Maria continued in earnest and gradually the burning in Adrienne’s bottom rose until it became genuinely uncomfortable. Just when she thought she was going to really have to ask Maria to ease up, Maria stopped altogether.

For a few seconds, Adrienne felt her bottom being caressed by loving fingers. Then those fingers were in the waistband of her offending knickers and Adrienne’s bottom was being slowly, deliberately bared. ‘Oh miss, not my bare bottom! Please, no!’ she called. In reality, there was nothing she wanted more at this moment than Maria’s cruel palm on her naked flesh.

‘If you can’t wear the correct colour knickers, then you shan’t wear any at all,’ Maria announced. ‘Besides, you know a proper spanking is always given on the bare.’ Down they came, to rest around Adrienne’s ankle socks.

Maria resumed the spanking and this time Adrienne wriggled and squealed for real. The smacks were sharper and harder, and the lack of any protection made the impacts much more painful, but Adrienne was determined to take whatever Maria could hand out. At first she tried gritting her teeth and suffering in silence, but eventually she could take no more and gave voice to her feelings. ‘Ow!
Ow
! Oh miss, that hurts! Aaah! Not so hard, please, miss!’ She knew Maria would take no notice. They had agreed a code word should Adrienne really need to stop; no other plea, no entreaty, would bring her any mercy.

Once again, Maria built up the heat little by little, taking Adrienne almost to the point of tears, holding her there but not quite sending her over the edge. After several minutes of this a final flurry of harder spanks stung Adrienne hard enough to bring water to her eyes and a choking sob to her throat.

Maria allowed her some time to come down, stroking her sore bottom and even letting her fingers stray into Adrienne’s cleft every now and then, although never touching her sex. Adrienne was content to leave it that way for the moment – there would be plenty of time for intimate contact later.

Adrienne was told to stand, as Maria resumed her strict gym mistress persona. She reached to pull her knickers up but a sharp command stopped her. ‘You can get rid of those completely – no, you won’t be needing them for your caning. That’s on the bare too. Come to think of it, you can take the skirt off as well.’ Pulling a sulky pout, Adrienne complied, unzipping the skirt, folding it neatly on the sofa, and putting the offensive blue panties on top of it.

Maria was still not satisfied, as she picked the cane up and flexed it menacingly. ‘You’re still too well covered. I want you humiliated as well as in pain. Take your shirt and bra off!’

‘Oh, but miss, I’ll be naked! You’ll be able to see everything!’

‘That’s the idea. And if you carry on arguing your caning will go from six strokes to eight.’

‘Oh miss!’ Adrienne crossed her arms and pulled her shirt over her head to expose a pastel pink push-up bra, decorated with bows and frills. Just the kind of lingerie a woman would choose to impress her lover. On this occasion, her lover was anything but pleased.

‘Now it is eight strokes. Next time you change into your tennis kit you’ll remember to wear a proper sports bra. This is not a fashion show.’ Adrienne said nothing as she unclipped the expensive undergarment. She was not sure how well she would take six with the cane, let alone eight, and arguing would only take the total up. She knew Maria would let her off the caning if she could not handle it, but Adrienne saw it as a matter of pride that she would not back down.

She stood before Maria clad in only her trainers and white socks. She put her arms by her side and stood to attention, throwing her head back and thrusting out her breasts, feeling the nipples harden as Maria looked at her, still flexing the wicked cane. The girly bunches felt silly now she was almost naked, their demureness a sharp contrast with her embarrassingly obscene position. Maria had put her hair in a ponytail, reinforcing the air of athleticism and authority she seemed to assume so easily.

‘Now,’ she said, standing back, placing her left hand on her hip, and pointing at Adrienne with the cane, ‘touch your toes.’

Adrienne had not tried to do that for some years, and was not sure she would still be able to do it, but did not want to disappoint Maria, so she bent over, stretching her arms down. She found she could manage it, but only by parting her legs. It felt very undignified and not a little ridiculous, as her plump breasts dangled toward her face.

And then all her attention was focused on her bottom, as Maria tapped the taut cheeks with the cane. Adrienne gulped. ‘You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?’ Maria said huskily.

‘Yes, miss.’ Adrienne’s own voice was little more than a croak.

‘And now you’re going to find out what happens to naughty girls, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, miss.’

‘And do you think I’ll ever have to take such drastic action again?’

‘No, miss. I’ll be good in future. I promise.’

‘We’ll see about that. Somehow I don’t quite believe you, but in the meantime here’s something for you to think about. Eight of the best coming up, and I want each one counted with a nice “thank you, miss” afterwards. Here we go.’

Adrienne felt the cane leave her bottom. A few seconds later, there was a whistle and a crack, and she became conscious of a line of agony across both cheeks. ‘Aaah!’ Then she remembered what she was supposed to say. ‘One, thank you, miss.’ The pain was intense. The spanking had settled down to become a comfortable and not unpleasant glow, but the cane stroke seemed to have relit the fire.

Just as the pain was beginning to subside, Maria gave her the second cut. ‘Ow! Two, thank you, miss!’ Adrienne could feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes. She choked them back just in time for the third stroke, which she greeted in the correct way.

Maria went on caning her, and she had to steel herself for every blow. The girl, although young, had clearly handed out more than a few canings, each stroke landing with deadly accuracy. When Adrienne was finally able to hiss, ‘Eight, thank you, miss,’ she was also able to feel tears filling her eyes, unable to run down her cheeks because of her upside-down position. It had been an ordeal but she had made it, and she was proud of herself.

So was Maria. She kept the scene going to the very end, telling Adrienne to stand in the corner with her hands on her head for 15 minutes while she sat on the sofa, flicking through a magazine, occasionally glancing up at the red and striped bottom.

Finally she allowed Adrienne to leave, telling her to wait in the bedroom. She joined her a few minutes later. Now she was also naked and Adrienne had got rid of her shoes, socks, and hair ribbons, and lay face down on the duvet. Maria had brought a jar of moisturiser from the bathroom and spent the next 15 minutes rubbing generous helpings into a very grateful bottom. Adrienne drifted off as the cooling ointment sank into her hot, sore skin, her arms resting on the pillow above her head.

She vaguely registered the fact that Maria had stopped, but not that she had also left the room. Neither did she hear her return, or the faint clink of metal. She did feel her arms being lifted at each wrist, but suspected nothing until it was too late.