Old Fashioned Discipline
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Spanking, Light Bond, Humiliation,
Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Fed up with kids going wild, corporal punishment is restored for offenders under 25, using a computer controlled spanking machine so there is no scope for abuse by the spanker. The first chapter describes 19yo Elisha's introduction to the machine.
"So, you are Elisha Chambers?"
The frightened girl standing in front of him nodded, biting her lip.
"You were arrested at 1:15 this morning for disorderly conduct."
She nodded again.
"Answer me, girl, don't just nod."
"Yes sir. I was arrested last night, not sure of the time."
"The time is rather significant, girl," said Sergeant Charles Mansell. "Are you aware that the new optional CP laws came into force at midnight last night?"
The lovely blonde girl shook her head, and muttered, "Not really sir. I mean, I have heard of the new law but didn't know when it was coming in."
"It means because you were arrested after midnight that you qualify under the new laws."
"I see." Actually it was pretty obvious she had no real idea what he was talking about, which pleased him. He was looking forward to explaining everything to her. In detail! He opened his notepad and picked up a pen.
"Okay, let's get some details down. You are nineteen years old?"
"Yes sir," she said, struggling to remain composed.
"Any previous offences?"
"No, sir," she stammered.
"Excellent. So you do qualify then, the CP option is only available for first offenders under twenty five years of age. So that means you are the first offender to be offered the option since we had the machine installed. Want me to explain what is involved?"
"Yes please sir." Her face was pale, her voice shaky.
The sergeant briefly explained the background to the new law, but as he did so he reflected on the whole sorry saga. How it had taken many years for people to begin to realise that the 'modern' way of raising children was not proving a success. The evidence was all around, graffiti on walls and street signs, drunken rampages every night as youths spilled out of pubs urinating and vomiting in the streets, girls staggering around drunk in skirts that exposed their panties when they fell down. And the general public was offended when they read in the newspapers reports of magistrates sentencing such offenders to short bouts of community service or even being given suspended sentences that left the offenders and their friends believing they had been let off scot free.
Even so, it was not obvious what could be done to restore sanity and impose decent standards on the young people. Everyone seemed to agree that fathers could not be trusted to administer a spanking without getting sexually aroused and far too often taking advantage of the one being disciplined. And even the idea of court administered corporal punishment was fraught with problems, as demonstrated by the few countries in the world which still practiced such discipline. How could you ensure a sentence of a couple of dozen strokes with a cane was administered equally to each culprit? And how could you ensure that male and female judges awarded equal doses of corporal punishment without their personal views biasing the sentence?
But at least the debate had started, and once people were talking about it the topic quickly became main-stream. Several political parties adopted the issue as part of their platform, although none was able to frame a coherent and viable way of reintroducing old fashioned discipline into either the family or the courts. A referendum was held drawing enough votes to result in a Proposition being placed on the agenda for the next election.
Even then the reform would probably not have been approved had not a spectacular new development been announced just weeks before the vote. In front of a crowded news conference, an inventor demonstrated a computer controlled spanking machine!
The television and newspapers were full of pictures of the machine being demonstrated with a heavy leather strap, then with a cane, on a realistic female dummy dressed in a blouse and panties. The commentary explained how a person to be caned would remove skirt or trousers before going over the bench, but there would be no physical contact with the officials administering the punishment.
The man explained that, with such a machine, a court imposed sentence could be carried out with meticulous and absolutely repeatable severity, and no human contact was involved. But as the man then explained you could even pre-program the computer with fixed penalties for each type of offence, and you could have an equation which adjusted the penalty to match the culprit's age weight and other factors.
Suddenly it seemed possible that corporal punishment could be restored to what many felt was its proper place in the upbringing of the nation's youth, with no danger of it being abused. There was even talk of parents being allowed to have one of the machines in the home, used under appropriate supervision of course.
When he finally finished the explanation of the history of the new law, Sergeant Mansell smiled up at the lovely girl standing shivering in front of his desk. She was still in the party clothes she had been wearing the night before, a tight white very short miniskirt, lovely long bare legs, and white platform high heel shoes. Her straight blonde hair came down over her shoulders. Her makeup was mussed, probably from kissing boys at the party she had been attending, and her handbag had been confiscated when she arrived at the station, so there had been no opportunity to restore her face, but Sergeant Mansell thought she looked beautiful.
He was praying that she would accept the CP option, and if she did he would try to make her undress completely for it. The new machine had been introduced very quickly, the regulations governing its use were still very sparse, and were not yet specific about clothing requirements. All it did say was the bottom was to be bare. He had studied the spanking frame in the room down the corridor, and wondered how a girl's skirt would stay up over her back during a long caning. He decided he would make the girl remove her dress!
"Are you aware of the normal penalties for disorderly conduct?" The girl shook her head desperately, her lovely hair flying. "As a first offence, you would expect to receive at least three months in a young offender's institution."
The girl went pale. "But I'm taking exams in December," she moaned.
"Interesting. That's one of the reasons the CP Option rule was brought in, to avoid young people missing out on academic qualifications just because of some relatively minor offence and bad timing."
"So what should I do?" Her lovely eyes gazed at him, beseeching him to help her.
"Obviously you should take advantage of your good fortune and accept the option that the new laws provide. That way you can go home tonight and get on with whatever studying you should have been doing last night instead of partying."
She lowered her eyes, looking down at the floor, panting, still not sure what was involved, and the sergeant couldn't stop letting his eyes run down her long legs. He was wondering whether he should make her part her feet when she went over the machine, the handbook and not discussed that issue. The bench had long support struts sticking out behind, she could stand with her feet inside or outside of them, and he decided he would definitely insist she had her feet outside.
He also would leave her in those platform shoes, which would lift her bum nicely. He rather wished she had been wearing stockings, stay-ups, or with a garter belt, but realised the skirt was too short, and he was glad she wasn't in panty hose, he hated those. It had been very many years since he last saw a young girl in stockings and suspenders!
Imagining what she was going to look like over the spanking bench with the dress removed, he knew it would be hard to keep his hands off her, and reminded himself that all of the spanking machines had live TV coverage to a central monitoring station specifically so the authorities could ensure officials didn't exploit the opportunities presented by the new rules.
"If I do decide to take the option, what exactly will happen?"
"We have one of the new spanking machines in a room out back, you will be bent over it and an appropriate number of strokes, of strap or cane, will be administered by the machine to your bottom. Actually you will have the honour of being its first customer." He smiled as he said this, though she didn't return the smile!
"Spanking machine? How does it work?"
"Like I said just now, these machines have been brought in to ensure that all punishments are given equally. I just place you over the bench, arrange the machine behind you, then dial in your details, mainly age, sex, and the offence. The machine looks up the standard punishment for those details and administers it without me being involved. I will not even be in the room. Just you and the machine."
'After I arrange you properly', he thought, and grinned, remembering the hours he had already spent practicing arranging the dummy supplied with the machine. He knew he could also watch the event through the one way mirror provided. Forcing himself to look strict but not aroused, he suggested they go see the machine, before she decided. She nodded nervously so he stood up and showed her out of his office, then let her go ahead down the corridor, his eyes on her pert bottom as she walked in front of him.
They came to a door with a large newly painted sign, 'Punishment Room'. "That's it, the machine is in there." The girl groaned as she stood waiting for the door to open.
Reaching past her he opened the door, ushered her inside, then stepped in after her.
"Oh my god," she moaned when she saw the machine and the bench, then slowly looked around the room, taking in what was obviously the spanking arm sticking out of the machine, and the row of spanking straps and paddles and canes along the wall, each on a numbered hook. On the far wall was a large mirror, in which he could watch her face as she looked around.
"You will be placed over this bench and strapped down securely. The machine will tell me which implement to fit in the spanking arm, then after I fit the selected implement and check that it is correctly lined up, I will leave you to it".
"You won't even be in the room?"
"Nope, that's all part of the concept, no way for the official to be involved, other than in preparing the culprit. Totally anonymous spanking delivered by machine. I go outside to the control cubicle, enter your particulars, then just press start! I will come back in after the punishment is finished, undo the straps, and you will be free to get dressed and go home."
"Straps, you say?"
"Yes, we have to be sure you can't move during the punishment, it's not like when a dad was spanking his daughter and could stop if she put her hand in the way. We must also ensure you stay exactly in position so the machine knows where to apply each stroke. So you will be securely fastened over the bench, at wrists and thighs, and with a strap over your waist holding you firmly in position. For your own safety of course."
He was watching her face, enjoying the play of emotions as she contemplated all this.
He smiled sweetly and asked, "So, Elisha, tell me, were you ever spanked by your father?"
She shook her lovely head emphatically, "No, never." Actually she blushed as she said that, it wasn't quite true, as with most girls her dad had spanked her on a couple of occasions, when she was in her bedroom and her mom was out of the house. "It wasn't allowed back when I was a little girl."
"Indeed it wasn't," the Sergeant agreed, thinking that it wouldn't have been that many years ago that she was going through her childhood with no effective discipline. No wonder she was now in this position!
"Under the new rules parents can purchase one of these machines, and use it at home so long as they follow the regulations."
"Oh my god," she whispered, thinking how dad would have loved it.
"Might have done you some good to have grown up with one of those machines in your house, regular use might have stopped you running astray, prevented you appearing here now."
"I suppose," she whispered again, imagining her dad with such a machine in the house. "What do you mean by regular use?"
Sergeant Mansell was intrigued by the look on her face, he wondered just what she was thinking. Elisha was remembering dad's hands touching her at every opportunity, and how there had been nobody she could complain to. She imagined her father strapping her to this machine in his study and playing with her all day long!
"The rules stipulate how often a parent can put his or her child on the machine, once a week is apparently considered normal. And as I said the machine decides the actual punishment that is administered each time. All the machines are connected to a central administrative centre so excessive use can be prevented."
That reminded him that there was a blue 'connect to admin office' button on his computer, and he was very aware that he had not yet pressed it, where the manual said very firmly that he should have pressed it before taking any person into the punishment room. He just didn't want to share this beautiful girl with faceless people in head office.
"Once a week! Wow. So anyway, if I agree to take this option, how many strokes will I get, and what with?" She was looking up now, at the line of straps and canes and paddles along the wall.
"I have no way of knowing, it's entirely decided by the computer. By the way this will be my first time using the machine, so forgive me if I take it a bit slowly." He stepped forward, his hand low down on her back gently urging her to do stand closer to the machine, to the bench where if she agreed she would experience pain.
"After you are in position I have to enter your details, age, sex, weight, and the offence you are being punished for, and the machine tells me what implement to install off that rack on the wall, I fit it and line the arm up with your bottom, then I just go off and leave you in its care."
'And I sit on the other side of that one way mirror so I can watch it all, ' he thought excitedly, knowing he would be masturbating as soon as he got in the other room.
"And if I don't agree then I would get three months in prison?"
"Well, most likely in a young offender's institution. Not quite as bad as prison."
"If I take the option, will anyone have to know?"
"Nope, that's one of the main benefits of the new scheme, your friends and employer or teachers don't need to know anything about it, whereas if there's a court case and you get sent off to an institution then it will be in the paper and you will be away for months and everyone will have to know. With this option, nobody will even know you have been spanked."
He could tell that Elisha was pondering her options, her eyes now fixed on the bench in front of her, anticipating pain as she lay over it. The bench was rather like a tall wooden bar stool, bolted onto a large wooden plinth. The bench was short, she could see that when lying over it her head would be hanging out beyond the frame.
She could tell from placement of the spanking machine at which end her feet, and her bottom, would be. She could see straps near the top of the legs at that end, and guessed those would go around her upper thighs. Half way down the uprights at the other end were more straps, and she guessed that those would be for her wrists. There was a thick leather strap hanging down from the middle of the cross frame, obviously that was to go over her back, pinning her down to the bench. She panted as she imagined what it was going to feel like, she would not be able to move, and would just have to accept whatever punishment this machine awarded.
"So you have no say in how many strokes I will receive?"
"No, none at all. That is the whole idea, the sentence for each offence has been determined by committee long before the machines were delivered. I just put you over the bench, strap you down, and that's my input. After that I just leave you to the machine."
"Can I have some time to think about it?"
"I suppose I could send you back to your cell, have you brought back tomorrow. How did you find your cell?"
"It was horrible; the bed is just a wooden board."
"The beds in those institutions are not much better. Imagine three months of that. And I am told that some of the other inmates are pretty nasty and make demands on pretty young girls like you." He paused to let that sink in! "But yes, if you want to go back for another night in your cell while you decide, that's okay."
She was silent for a few minutes. He could tell she was not eager to go back to that horrible cell, and even less keen to go to an institution where she might get mauled. But also she was not eager to lie over the bench and let some machine spank her! She looked around the room again, obviously trying to pluck up the courage to accept her fate. Suddenly she thought of something. "What must I wear?"
"The rules are specific, I am afraid. If you were in a skirt you could just take that off, but in the dress you are wearing I fear you will have to remove the dress. And your panties too, if you are wearing any." He let her absorb that news, enjoying her embarrassment. "I see your legs are bare, that's probably just as well. Panty hose would have to come off too, if you had been wearing those. The rules say that stay up stockings can be retained, but stockings held up by suspender straps must be removed along with the garter belt or whatever is holding the stockings up."
He enjoyed her embarrassment as they discussed her underclothing.
"You may keep your bra on," he said, wanting to see the effect that had on her. To his delight she blushed, but didn't answer. Sergeant Mansell actually didn't know very much about girl clothing. Even though he was sure her legs were bare he fantasised that she might have a corset on under the dress. Finally he felt he had to know. "Please advise me what you are wearing under the dress."
"Just panties," she mumbled.
"I see. No bra?" The girl shook her head, looking down at her feet. Sergeant Mansell was thinking back to when he was her age, girls did not go out without bras in his day.
"That's okay. You can remove your panties yourself, of course. When you take your dress off. I will wait outside, you can just hang everything on the hooks by the door, then place yourself over the bench and get comfortable. When you are ready call out and I will come back in to strap you down. Assuming you do want to take the CP option."
There was a long silence. Then he heard her whisper, "Okay." His heart leapt. Pretending he hadn't heard, he asked her what she had said. "Okay I accept this option."
"I'm sure that's sensible. Alright then, just a few preliminaries. The bench height isn't adjustable I'm afraid so I will need to use some padding cushions to get the height right for you. Please get up on the plinth and stand up against the bench front. Place your feet either side of the two side bars." That separated her legs deliciously! He walked around behind her, eagerly waiting to see her bend over the bench!
He produced half a dozen thin pillows and placed them on top of the bench, deliberately arranging it so those lovely legs would be well stretched once she bent forward. He loved standing so close to her, because she was on the plinth his eyes were on the level of her breasts, and he realised he could see the slight bulges of her nipples through the thin dress. He deliberately added a couple more padding cushions than were really necessary. "Just try that, lie forward over the top cushion and reach down to the legs in front of you." He watched in awe as her panties came into view, white panties, thongs, although he hated thongs he had to admit that the view of her in this position was magnificent. He left her to get settled for a few minutes.
"Okay thank you, you can stand up now. As I say I am going to leave you while you get ready, just take your dress and panties off, hang them up by the door, then go down over the bench and grip the front legs with your hands. Call out when you are ready."
He realised as he stepped back that she might decide to remove those sexy platform shoes when she took off her panties, and he wanted her to be wearing them for her punishment. So he said, "Please keep your shoes on when you bend over the bench, and stand astride the two supports as you were doing just now, otherwise you won't be at the right height."
Of course she could have asked to be re-measured with bare feet, but her brain wasn't working that well so she just nodded and when the door was closed she did as he had said. She wasn't to know that Sergeant Mansell was behind the mirrored window watching her eagerly. She also didn't know that there was a microphone in the frame, put there so her cries could be heard in the control centre and recorded. Sergeant Mansell could hear every sound in the room, first the soft shushing of her zip being tugged down then the soft rustle of her dress being drawn off over her head. He loved the little white panties that came into view and nearly choked when he saw that she was indeed not wearing a bra! God what beautiful pert little breasts!
Of course she didn't know that he was watching, so she seemed quite unconcerned as she hung up her dress then went back over beside the bench and pushed her panties down. The girl was fully shaved. She rested one hand on the bench top for support as she lifted each foot in turn to step out of them, while looking around at the frightening things on the wall.
Because she wasn't concentrating, her knickers got caught on the strap hook of her left shoe, and he watched enthralled as she finally sat down on the plinth, completely unaware that she was facing right at him, and struggled to extract the tangled panty. In the end she took her shoe off to make it easier, and the sergeant watched in wonder as she sat with her knees wide apart, struggling to sort out her clothing, her labia in full view.
Finally she got the panties free, put her foot back in the platform shoe, and did up the ankle strap. Then she stood, picked up the panties, and took them over to hang on the hooks on the wall beside her dress. In just her shoes she turned back to face the room and her imminent punishment.
Sergeant Mansell could tell that she believed she was alone and unobserved, as she stood and looked at the bench where she was about to suffer. For a moment she put a hand down between her legs, pressing against herself, it wasn't obvious whether she sought sexual feelings or whether this was just a nervous reaction to her situation.
Instead of going straight over the bench, she walked around behind the bench and looked closely at the canes and straps, reaching up to touch some of them with her left hand while her right hand continued to press against her pussy. Finally she turned, faced the bench, took a deep breath, and stepped up onto the plinth. Her face was pale as she stood up close against the bench, both hands now on the bench top, her back to Sergeant Mansell who was watching eagerly through the glass. To his delight she moved her feet wide apart, placing them outside the two wooden frames supporting the bench. Then finally and deliciously she slowly bent forward, sliding her hands down the front legs of the bench.
As he watched her she lowered herself onto the cushions, her naked breasts and belly pressing against the cold cushions, hands reaching down the front supports of the bench then gripping them tightly, just below the waiting wrist straps. He could hear her breathing. In the control room, watching through the glass, Sergeant Mansell was also breathing heavily!
He heard her whisper, "I'm ready", but decided to make her wait, and sat watching her ass cheeks, her legs, and her exposed pussy and anus. She said it again, "Sergeant, I am ready for you." He felt he could happily sit there watching her motionless body for hours! Except it wasn't motionless, her whole body was quivering! Again, even louder, the girl called out, "Sir, please, I am over the bench waiting for you."
Rather reluctantly he stood up and went to the door of the punishment room, took a deep breath to steady himself, opened the door, and walked in.
"Excellent, Elisha, thank you, just give me a few minutes to do up the straps." First he went to her arms, still terrified that she might change her mind and suddenly jerk upright, saying no, she chose the correctional institution. But to his delight she lay there, her breathing strained, looking down at what he was doing as he fastened the straps firmly around each wrist. He stood, and walked around her and stood directly behind the frame looking at her widely parted legs and her exposed pussy and anus. He wondered if his heart would cope with the stress of securing the straps high up around those lovely thighs.
He knelt on the plinth and bent forward, his nose almost touching her private bits as with trembling fingers he secured the thigh straps, pulling the front of her thighs in tight against the back legs of the bench. At last, reluctantly, he stood up and walked around to her side, laid the waist strap over her back, and fitted it to the buckle on the other side, cinching it very tight.
"How is that?" he asked softly.
"It's okay," the lovely girl hissed, not sure what else she could say.
"Not too tight?"
"No thank you sir, it's okay."
"I started entering your details in the computer, it says you are to receive the number six cane."
"Oh." What else could a girl say?
He walked over, found the hook numbered C6, took down the cane hanging from the hook, held it close in front of Elisha so she could study it, made her kiss it! Finally he went to the machine.
Over the days since the machine was provided, he had with lovingly expectant fingers practiced fitting each cane and paddle and strap from the array of implements into the arm of the spanking machine, so it only took him a moment to fit the C6. However he loitered, pretending to be having problems but with his eyes on his lovely criminal. Mostly she had her head down, looking down at the floor in front of her, and her strapped wrists, but sometimes she lifted and twisted her head so she could see him, and he pantomimed that the clip wasn't working right.
"Nearly got it," he said.
"Don't hurry," she replied, her voice tense. "Take as long as you like."
Unable to stall longer, he called out, "There, that's got it, let's get on with your caning."
"Yeah terrific," Elisha replied grimly, head up now, watching him.
In accordance with the instruction manual he knew almost by heart now, he pressed the 'search' button and the arm slowly rotated, until the cane came into gentle contact with Elisha's trembling buttocks. She flinched and gasped when she felt that soft touch! She hissed, "Oh god," and when he looked at her reflection in the mirror he could see her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip.
"It's okay darling, relax, I am just lining everything up."
"Okay," she hissed, the tension obvious. She gulped then mumbled, "Thanks."
The cane was lying just above the crease of her bum, between the fold of her bottom cheeks and the start of the backs of her thighs, whereas the instruction manual said it had to be aligned with the crease. He pressed the relevant button on the machine to lower the cane appropriately until it was exactly aligned with where the crease would be if she wasn't folded over so tightly. "I'm just letting the computer know the target area, this is the lowest place it will cane you."
"Yes," she panted, voice strained.
Then he used the raise button to guide the cane higher until it reached the upper extremity of the meaty part of her bottom. Each movement of the cane, sliding across her bum, brought another groan from her.
He pressed the button again, thereby telling the computer the vertical height of the girl's ass, the full extent of the target. "And this is the highest place it will cane you."
"Okay. Is it about to start, then?"
"In a few minutes, yes. By the way, how much do you weigh? The computer needs to know." He was enjoying standing there talking to her while she was so clearly terrified. Her bottom really did look delicious! He knew that when he pressed Start, the computer would apply the allocated punishment evenly between the two heights he had indicated, and wondered how hard the machine would strike, and how the marks would look when the punishment was finished.
But he couldn't pretend to be busy for ever so finally he went over to the door, and turned for one last look at her unblemished backside. "Okay, good luck darling," he called out as he shut the door, mentally kicking himself for using terms of endearment that could so easily be misinterpreted. In the control console he looked at the flashing blue 'connect to admin office' button, knowing he should already have pressed it so that the punishment would be properly monitored and recorded. He decided that he wouldn't connect this time. Nobody needed to know.
When he entered the girl's weight into the computer he added a bit to her weight knowing that would cause the computer to allocate a bit more punishment.
Then he used the intercom to ask her to please raise her head and look straight in front of herself. That gave the hidden camera behind the mirror in that far wall a delicious view of her desperate face, and he looked forward to seeing the evidence of pain as the caning progressed.
"Are you ready? I am starting it now." He loved the look on her face!
He pressed the start button. The cane arm drew slowly back, the girl groaned, then a computer generated voice said, "Stroke one" and after what must have been a terrifying pause the arm snapped back. The cane cracked across her buttocks and the girl yelped. Sergeant Mansell was delighted to see that, although her bottom muscles cramped and her thighs shivered, the only real movement she could make was to clench her fists and lift her feet of the ground. He pressed the Pause button and waited until she was still, and breathing normally again.
"You okay, Elisha?"
"Fuck sir that hurt!"
"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry but I don't have any control over that. I've put the machine on pause for a few minutes, to let you get your breath back. And also I saw you were lifting your feet and that reminds me that there should be a strap holding your ankles still. Hang on." He went back into the room and knelt behind her, looking up at the lovely welt turning bright red across the lower curves of her bum. He did up the ankle straps then went round in front of her, tilted her head up and kissed her gently on the lips. "I'm really sorry I have to do this, darling. But it's for the best. I will go back to the control room, tell me when you are ready for more."
"Thank you, sir. How many more will it give me?"
"Sorry darling, I am not allowed to tell you that. Are you ready for another stroke?"
The girl gulped, then slowly nodded her head. "Yes sir."
Back in the control room he happily pressed the Restart button! That mechanised voice said, "Stroke two."
After the seventh stroke, Elisha cried out, "Please sergeant can we pause again?"
Glad of the excuse, he paused the machine and went back into the punishment room. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"Oh god sir it's agony. Please, how many more?"
Although the computer had provided him with the answer, he preferred to make her wait, and again told her that he didn't know. "It might only be one or two more, be brave."
"Sir please, um look can you ahh come here? Please?"
Of course he was delighted to step closer, looking at her fabulous bottom with the seven angry welts lying exactly parallel across her nates. He stood by her side, listening to her panting breathing, watching her ass muscles shivering, her thighs rippling. Stepping close, he placed a hand gently on her right ass cheek. Her response was a whispered, "Oh god."
He curved his fingers so they were moving down inside the crevice of her spread bum cheeks. "What would you like me to do, darling?"
"Look, this will sound crazy but please could you just touch me? Down there?"
Charles couldn't believe his ears, but wasn't willing to miss this opportunity. "Down here?" he whispered putting his fingers under her.
"Oh god yes, please I'm so close." He slid his fingers through the wet folds of her labia to her clitoris. It only took a few seconds before the girl climaxed loudly! He stood behind her waiting for her to recover. Then he heard her whisper, "You can fuck me if you want." Stepping up close and dropping his trousers, he did so. Hardly surprisingly he came very quickly.
Tugging up his trousers he stepped back and whispered, "We had better not tell anyone about that!" Regaining his composure he was grateful he hadn't pressed the connect button!
"I still have to give you the rest of your punishment." This time she didn't ask how many more, almost as if she didn't care.
He went back to the control room and pressed the Start button and watched the rest of Elisha's caning. She received a total of twelve strokes, very accurately placed up and then down the cheeks of her arse, with no overlaps, and he was convinced she had another orgasm before the last one. When he went in to her ready to undo her straps, she whispered, "Please can I just stay here for a few minutes? Please?"
"Sure, baby. Do you want me to leave you alone?"
"No, I want you to fuck me again. Please. Take your time, please."
"I'm sorry about last time."
"It's okay, don't talk, just do it. Please."
So he did, and this time he lasted much longer and she orgasmed nicely for him before he spunked inside her.
"God, I needed that. Thank you sergeant."
"Want me to rub cream into those welts?"
"If you do, I will want you to fuck me again, are you sure you can manage another go?"
He laughed and said no, probably better to release her and send her home.
So at last he undid her straps and helped her to stand, and she hugged him and thanked him and whispered, "Please don't tell anyone about that." He watched her step into her dress and pull it up over her lovely body. She didn't put her panties back on! After she walked out, he took her panties off the hook, shut the door of the punishment room, and followed her back to his office. She came into his arms again, and hugged him. He whispered, "You sure you don't need some cold cream on your bum?"
She held him tight and said she was very tempted but if she let him do that she might never get home. "Better not," she said, smiling.
At the office door she kissed him on the mouth and pressed herself against him and whispered, "Thank you for being so nice."
Two weeks later she walked into his office and announced that she had been a bad girl again. Without another word she turned and walked down the corridor and after a few moments getting himself under control he followed her, and as expected he found her waiting by the door to the punishment room!