The Music Room

This story includes graphic descriptions of consensual corporal punishment in the form of strapping and caning and alludes to non-consensual birching. If you find this distasteful, please do not read on.

All protagonists in this story are over eighteen years old. None of the characters depicted are real; any similarity to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

As always, any grammatical errors or typos are mine alone. Whilst I am sorry that they happen, they are almost inevitable on a site hosting stories written by amateurs for fun. Contrary to what the occasional critic may believe, I proofread, many times over, what I have written. Unfortunately, however hard I try, something always slips past. Hopefully, any errors will not prevent readers from enjoying the story.

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The Music Room

It was a chilly November day when Marjorie and David moved in next door. I had met them once before when they had just viewed the house, and Marjorie approached me to ask about the neighbourhood. I got the impression of a very disciplined and organised woman as she asked about local amenities, traffic noise, and whether any "ill-disciplined children or youths " lived nearby. She had smiled when I answered to her satisfaction and thanked me politely before turning to her husband, David, who had been standing quietly and attentively close by.

"Come along, David," she snapped impatiently. Look sharpish. We haven't got all day."

On their moving day, David and Marjorie arrived first, followed a few minutes later by a large delivery van, and shortly, a team of workers started to unload the vehicle. As I watched from our front window, a never-ending stream of identical cardboard boxes was carried into the house, followed by many pieces of furniture.

Emptying the van took several hours, but by midday, the van and the four blue-overalled men had driven away, their job done.

By ten past twelve, my natural curiosity had got the better of me, and I put on my coat and shoes and went next door. I rang the doorbell and waited, and shortly, Marjorie answered it.

"Hello, welcome to the neighbourhood," I said. "I'm Susan. I saw the furniture van earlier. I wondered if you'd like a cup of tea and some sandwiches."

"Hello, it's nice to see you again. I'm Marjorie. And that's exceedingly kind of you. The kitchen is a total mess. We've scrubbed the floor and cleaned the cupboards and surfaces, but we haven't started to unpack the kitchen things. I haven't got a clue where the electric kettle is...... So, yes, please."

"Milk and sugar?"

"Milk and two sugars for both of us, thank you."

"Will ham sandwiches be all right?"

"That would be great."

***

Fifteen minutes later, I returned with a tray containing two mugs of tea and a plate of ham sandwiches. This time, Marjorie invited me into the house. In the hallway, cardboard boxes were stacked against the wall. Each box was labelled neatly, in block capital letters, with a black marker-pen.

I followed Marjorie across the polished parquet wooden floor into the kitchen. In the centre of the room was a modern Scandinavian-style table with four chairs stacked with boxes marked with a large letter, K. There were more boxes on the kitchen surfaces, and at the far side of the kitchen, a man was cleaning the tiles. He had his back to us and did not appear to notice us as when we entered. Marjorie moved a box, and I set the tray down on the glass-topped table.

"David," she said, "Stop and say hello to Susan. She's made us tea and sandwiches. She lives at number eleven, next door."

David stopped what he was doing, turned to face me, and extended his hand.

"Hello. Thank you for the refreshments. We've met before, haven't we?"

"Yes, when you came to see this house."

"Why don't you sit down?" said Marjorie.

"I won't thank you. I can see you are very busy, and I don't want to get in your way, so I'll leave you to it. I'll pop back later for the mugs and plate. If that's OK?"

"Of course," replied Marjorie.

Whilst we were talking, David reached down between us and took a sandwich, which he chewed enthusiastically. I saw a flash of anger cross Marjorie's face, and then it was gone.

"I'll find my own way out," I said and turned towards the front door.

As I walked away, behind me, I heard Marjorie's voice. I couldn't make out all of what she was saying but could distinguish a single word repeated several times - "rude."

***

Later, in the early evening, as promised, I returned. Marjorie answered the door and invited me in. The kitchen had been transformed. The boxes had disappeared. The stainless-steel sink and draining board were sparkling, and a red mixer, with a matching toaster and kettle, stood on the grey granite worktop. The kitchen wall tiles were now a pristine white, and in place of the old, tired lampshade that had hung from the ceiling, a modern white frosted glass fixture now took its place.

"Wow, you have been busy. It looks great."

"We need to fix the blinds, but now, at least, we can eat and drink. The kitchen was easy, though. I want new carpets and new curtains throughout the house. All the rooms need repainting too. It's going to take a while, but we'll get there. David is going to be remarkably busy.

The last owner, Mr Simms, was a widower and left to his own devices he appears to have been quite typical of his sex - dirty and untidy. When we saw the house filled with his clutter, I had to work hard to see how beautiful it could be."

"I never met him. He was a strange man. We moved in next door three years ago and never spoke to him."

"So, you've not been in this house before?"

"Never. But he was a music teacher, and students were here constantly. The strange thing was, although I heard he taught piano and the drums, we never heard a sound."

"That's not surprising. There's a soundproofed music room in the basement. It's one of the reasons I liked this place when I saw it."

"Are you musical then?"

She smiled.

"Heavens no, but David sings."

***

That night, after my partner, Matt, had fallen asleep, I lay awake in bed, and my thoughts turned to my new neighbours.

In many ways, they were a mismatched couple. She was a plain-looking woman with an unremarkable figure and carried several extraneous stones in weight on her short, big-titted frame. I estimated her to be around the same age as my mother, in her mid-forties. He was much younger, in his early thirties, and a few years older than me. In contrast with his wife, he was a good-looking guy, and certainly fuckable. He was around six feet tall with a good physique and a nice tight arse.

Although I hardly knew either of them, it was clear that Marjorie was the boss, and I wondered if she would object to me fucking David. As I reached down between my kegs. I imagined he was long, thick, and uncut.

***

Matt and I were well-matched. People who didn't know us well, described us as the perfect couple. If that meant a pair of individuals bound to one another in a loving monogamous relationship, with eyes only for each other, that was far from the truth. We were live-in fuckbuddies, had an open relationship, and I had fucked over forty men and approaching ten women in the ten or so years I had been sexually active.

I was twenty-nine years old and figured to pass the century mark for men well before reaching fifty. I don't have a target for women. Fucking them is pleasant enough, but given a choice, I will choose an individual with a penis every time. Five ladies I bedded were all lesbians, and I shagged them out of a combination of curiosity, horniness, and charity. It is difficult to say no to a woman with need in her eyes and an itch in her cunt particularly when you are horny yourself - and I am pretty much always both horny and up for it.

I do not believe in false modesty and know that I'm considered extremely attractive. I have long brown hair and big brown eyes that make me look innocent. I am five feet eight inches tall, with a perfect hour-class figure and firm forty-inch tits, and as I have explained, I am anything but "without sin."

I didn't know how many women Matt had screwed. I wasn't counting, and I didn't care. We fucked who we liked, when we liked, and one another when the mood took, us at least twice or sometimes three times a week.

***

In the days that followed, I did not see much of my neighbours, although I watched a long line of delivery vehicles and tradespeople come and go. It was clear that the transformation of the house that Marjorie planned was ongoing.

Eventually, about a month later, in early December, the comings and goings slowed and then stopped. One Saturday morning, the doorbell rang, and when I answered it, Marjorie was standing on the porch.

"Hello, Marjorie, won't you come in?" I said.

"If I'm not disturbing you."

"Of course not. Come in."

We sat at the kitchen table and sipped our coffee.

"The house is almost finished," she said. "Only the music room is left, and it should be finished by Tuesday. That's when the last piece of furniture will be delivered. It's upholstered in red leather and is beautiful, I had it made specially.

We're having a housewarming next Friday, and I wondered if you and Matt would like to come."

"That's very kind of you. We'd love to come."

"That's great. It will double as a Christmas party."

She changed the subject.

"No, Matt?"

"No, he's out. I expect he'll be back soon."

I didn't tell her he had gone out the night before and hadn't come home. Now, I think she knew.

***

On Tuesday, I wasn't working, and mid-morning, I noticed a delivery van on Marjorie's driveway. Shortly afterwards, three burly men manhandled a large crate out of the vehicle and carried it inside. Half an hour later, they reappeared with the crate, now in pieces, and then, the van drove off. The final piece of furniture had been delivered, but what it was, I couldn't say.

The music room was completed.

***

The next Friday evening, armed with a suitable housewarming gift, we went next door. Georgia, his on-off Friday night fuck, had been advised to use her dildo for the night, and both Matt and I were horny. Matt was on the prowl, and if he didn't hook up, he could always have me later.

The house was crowded; there were forty to fifty people present. Everybody was well-groomed and smartly dressed, and most were at least ten years older than Matt and me. We said hello to Marjorie and David and talked for a while. Marjorie did most of the talking on their behalf whilst David stood quietly by. At one point, she wordlessly held out her empty glass to him, and he promptly took it from her and went to get her a refill. When he returned, her back was to him, and he took his opportunity to take a surreptitious look at me when he thought that nobody was looking. I was both flattered and surprised when Marjorie took her glass from him and spoke. There was both mischief and menace in her voice.

"Marjorie, my husband thinks you're beautiful."

"What was that about?" said Matt as we walked away.

"I'm not sure, but something has upset her."

Later, we took our drinks and wandered into the recently refurbished lounge. In a modern-looking fireplace, a fire burned in the grate, and in the corner of the room stood a tall Christmas tree. Several people were standing, admiring the decorations, and talking among themselves when the predictable happened, and a middle-aged man detached himself from the group and introduced himself to me.

"Hello, I'm George. I've never seen you at one of Marjorie's soirees before."

"No, I'm her new neighbour. This is my partner, Matt."

We had joined the group that he was part of when I became aware of a woman who had approached us and was now standing close to Matt. I had seen her earlier speaking to Marjorie and had been struck by her beauty. She appeared Slavic, with high cheekbones, piercing ice-blue eyes, and long blond hair. She was at least six feet tall and wearing a long crimson satin dress, which appeared glued to her hard, lithe body. She was a cougar, maybe forty-five years old, and their conversation was short but to the point. She spoke softly, and I had my back half turned to her as I strained to listen against the backdrop of the chatter that filled the room.

"Hello, I'm Katia."

"Hi, I'm Matt."

"Marjorie said."

"What else did she say?"

"Not much."

"Tell me, Matt, are you enjoying the party?"

"I am now."

"And what is it you do?"

"I enjoy talking to beautiful women."

"Just talking?"

"Not just talking. Some men can multitask."

"And what else do you like to do when you talk to a beautiful woman?"

"Would you like me to show you?"

"Wouldn't your beautiful girlfriend mind?"

"No, but she might want to join us later."

She did not reply immediately, but after a few seconds, I heard her voice.

"This party has suddenly become very boring. If you leave now, I can be at your house in twenty minutes. I know where you live."

Then, as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. Matt turned back to me and spoke.

"Did you hear that?"

"All of it... Very slick."

"She came onto me."

I giggled.

"Don't complain. Get going, and I'll join you soon."

***

Half an hour later. I entered the house. The hallway light was on, but the rest of the ground floor was dark. I took off my coat and shoes, and as I hung my coat, I noticed a long red designer winter coat which I had never seen before. Katia was in the house, and I knew where to find her,

Ascending the stairs, I saw the light of our bedroom shining through the open door. As I got closer, I heard two people having sex. I peeped in through the door and quietly walked in. The floor was strewn with discarded clothing, and on the bed, Matt was fucking Katia.

They were naked, She was on her back with her legs spread and her knees bent whilst Matt lay between her thighs. His pale, tight, muscular buttocks rose and fell as he drove himself into her. As he fucked her, she held him tight, her arms around him clawing at his back with her long, red-lacquered fingernails...... And all the while she moaned.

I wanted a closer look, so I walked over to the bed and stood looking down at them. As he worked on Katia, Matt was impervious to my presence, but Katia noticed I was there, her eyes staring directly into mine, her mouth wide open in her rapture.

As I watched her beautiful face contorted with lust, she started to cry out in a language I did not recognise or understand, although the meaning of the words she uttered was quite clear.

Between my legs, I was sopping wet. I pulled my dress over my head and threw it to the floor. My bra and panties followed, until only my black silk fishnet stockings remained. Then, turning to the armchair behind me, I retrieved my wand vibrator where I had left it.

Now, with the wand held tight against my slit, I watched Katia climb towards her first orgasm of the night. She was watching me as she came, her buttocks writhing against the mattress, as her thighs tightened around him, her toes curled, and she scratched and clawed his back.

She was a screamer. Her long, loud climax fed my passion, and I felt the heat build rapidly between my thighs and deep inside my cunt before I came, knees bent and muscles shuddering, as I watched Katia take her pleasure.

Matt rolled away and lay on his back, and for the first time, I got a proper look at Katia. She was lean and muscular with a flat belly and firm, round breasts. The muscles of her thighs and legs were sculpted and well defined, the product of hours spent working out in the gym, and apart from a narrow strip of skin around her bald snatch, her entire body was deeply tanned.

Matt's prick, still hard and erect, was pointing at the ceiling when she straddled him, reached between her legs, and guided him inside herself. Then, with her hands flat against his chest, she rode.

"Please join us," she said.

I didn't need to be asked twice but climbed onto the bed and knelt astride Matt's face, presenting my slit and little man to his tongue. Then, as she rocked up and down on his dick, he licked my clitoris.

I do not know how long it was that Matt lapped and sucked and nibbled at my clitoris whilst Katia worked her cunt and clit against his dick. Then, as my pleasure grew and my climax neared, I reached that place where I was both desperate for the relief of orgasm but wanted the feeling between my legs to last forever. It was then that Katia leaned forward and kissed me. Mouths open, tongues dancing against each other, we climbed toward our orgasms until we came together.

Whilst I came on his face, I watched Katia with her nipples erect, mouth open, eyes rolling, and head thrown back, and I heard her scream again.

"Your turn," I said to Matt, and I removed the condom from his prick.

He took me from behind, as Katia lay on her back with my head between her thighs and I tongued her sodden slit. This time, Katia came first, but her thighs were still tight and quivering around my ears when I felt the warm rush of Matt's seed inside of me, and I took my third and hardest orgasm of the night.

***

One Sunday, just after Christmas, Matt and I had gone out for a pub lunch. We were tucking into our roast dinners when, out of the blue, he made an announcement.

"I'm going to fuck Marjorie."

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm going to fuck Marjorie."

"And how do you plan to do this?"

He laughed.

"Like always, with my dick."

"Don't be a smartass, Matt. You know what I mean."

"I shall ask her, and she will say yes."

"She's a married woman. You may just end up pissing off our neighbour."

"That's not what Katia said. Marjorie sleeps around when she can, and she's got the hots for me. She's no beauty, but she's a nice person, built for comfort, and I haven't fucked many older woman. Katia intimated she's a good screw."

"Katoa must have fucked her, then."

"For sure."

No more was said for a while as we continued eating. Then I put down my knife and fork.

"Is shitting on your own doorstep a good idea?"

"Who said anything about shitting."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"I'm not planning a relationship, just a one-night stand."

"What does David think of this?"

"He doesn't. Katia says he's not allowed to fuck anybody else. Marjorie keeps him on a tight leash."

Shame. He's a good-looking guy. I figured if you were having Marjorie....."

"Don't go there, THAT might piss our neighbour off."

***

No more was said, and I almost forgot about our conversation. Then two weeks later, in early January, I went away one weekend for a hen party in Bruges. Three days later, after I returned, I learned that Matt had taken his opportunity. I was putting the washing into the dryer when I discovered a foreign object in the basket. It was a pair of frilly red knickers several sizes larger than I might wear. Holding them in my hand, I took them into the lounge and showed them to Matt.

"Where did you find them?"

"In the wash."

"Oops! She must have left them."

"Marjorie?"

"He nodded."

"Tell her to be more careful. If she loses her knickers every time she plays away, sooner or later, there's going to be real trouble. Not everybody is as understanding as I am."

"We shared a couple of bottles of wine. That must be why she forgot them."

"Maybe you'd like them back to her, freshly laundered with my compliments."

***

I am never jealous of Matt, but what is, "sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," and I started to fantasise about shagging David. Fair is fair, after all.

It might never have happened if David hadn't come to the door one evening to ask whether we had some sugar we could spare. They had forgotten to buy some earlier in the week and had run out. Matt was still at work when the doorbell rang. I had just left the bath and was wearing only a dressing gown, so I pulled the gown tightly around myself and went to the door. David was standing there, sugar bowl in hand.

While I found the sugar, David sat waiting at the kitchen table. My back was to him as I filled the empty bowl, when suddenly, I sensed his eyes studying me. Then, in the reflection of the kitchen window, I saw him watching me with a hungry look on his face.

Impulsively, I turned toward him and opened my dressing wide to reveal my nude form. Eyes wide, he stared.

"Do you see anything you like?"

For a moment, he said nothing, and then he found his voice.

"You're beautiful."

"Do you see anything you want?"

"Marjorie, would kill me."

"How will she find out? I'm not going to tell her."

I fastened my gown and gave him the filled sugar bowl. Then, I asked him to wait whilst I put pen to paper and wrote down my mobile number.

"Ring me when you have a chance. Don't lose my number. I'll be waiting for your call."

***

The following Friday evening, my mobile phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I thought it might be David calling, and I was correct. Katia and Marjorie were spending Saturday on a shopping trip to London, and he would be alone. It was perfect. Matt was working until late afternoon, and I would be alone.

Except now, I wouldn't be.

"Come around at eleven," I said. "I'll leave the back door off the latch. Close it after you. I'll be waiting in bed. The master bedroom is the third on the right after you come upstairs."

***

Showered and perfumed, I waited for David to arrive. The bedside clock showed just a few minutes after eleven when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Then, the bedroom door opened, and David appeared. He looked good, clean-shaven, not a single hair out of place, and smartly dressed in cream slacks and a crisp white shirt.

"You look good."

"So do you."

"How can you tell? Most of me is hidden under the bedsheets."

"I got a peek the other day."

"Oh, the sneak preview, you mean. You have the advantage over me. Why don't you get naked and join me under the sheets?"

He smiled, took a small packet from his pocket, placed it on the bedside table, and began to unbutton his shirt. As he stripped, my eyes were drawn to the box of condoms that he had thoughtfully brought with him. Printed on the front of the box, under the word "sensitive" were the letters" XL" and it was with even greater interest that I watched him remove his clothes.

He stood in front of me in just his boxers, and I could see he was fit, well-muscled and kept himself in shape.

"Come on then, David, show me what you've got."

Silently, and looking me in the eye, he removed his last piece of clothing,

He was bald, circumcised, erect, and huge. Between his legs was the biggest prick that I had ever seen. It was long and thick, the veins on the shaft stood out, and it had the appearance of a gnarled piece of wood.

As I saw it, I may have taken a deep breath. David did nothing but stood and smiled.

"I'm not going to say it."

"Say what?"

"Wow."

He lay beside me, and we kissed. The kiss was not tender but was hard and ravenous in keeping with our mutual lust. Then, as he took each nipple, in turn, between his lips and stroked my clit, I slowly moved my fingers on his shaft.

It did not take long for me to be ready for him, and I was soaking wet when he lay between my legs, and I felt his nob-end nudging between my lips. Then, as he lay on top of me, he looked me in the eyes, and slowly, ever so slowly,...... he impaled me.

I felt myself stretch to accommodate him as he slowly inched inside of me until the whole of him was deep inside. Then I was full, fuller than I had ever been. I'd taken an eight-inch vibrator before, but this was long, hard man-flesh, and it felt different.

I felt him start to move, slowly at first, and then faster. What he gave me that morning was a straightforward, uncomplicated fucking. He fucked my brains out. For close to forty-five minutes, (I looked at the clock later,) there was nothing in my world but my cunt and the penis that was filling it.

I know that I was very noisy. I heard my moans and groans, my voice complimenting, pleading, demanding, ordering, and announcing.

"Oh, that's good. So good.

I'm full. So full.

You fill me. You fill me.

You're so big. So big.

Harder.

Faster.

Fuck my cunt. Fuck my wet cunt!

Fuck me like a whore!

Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop!

I'm coming! I'm COMING!

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I don't know how many times I came, but it was double figures or more. David was tireless and only stopped when I screamed, "Enough." By the time he finished with me, I was covered in sweat and my cunt was sore. I can't remember being so well-fucked. I felt the warm afterglow deep inside for hours and imagined I was walking bowlegged for the remainder of the day.

After David rolled off me, he lay on his back. I knelt between his legs and removed the condom before I cupped his balls in one hand and licked his shaft. I employed long, smooth strokes to make sure every inch of his flesh was well lubricated and covered in saliva. Then, as I watched him watching me, I slowly moved my fingers up and down and sucked his large, engorged helmet.

Soon, he was groaning in pleasure, and then, as he clawed at the bedsheets, he came. His penis pulsed and spurted streams of salty tasting sperm into my mouth, and I grimed at him in triumph.

***

One Saturday morning, at the end of the first week in February, Marjorie popped around for a cup of coffee and a chat. Matt had gone to do the weekly shopping at a local supermarket.

"I'm glad I caught you alone," she said. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'm all ears."

"What are you doing on Valentine's Day?"

"Not much. Like Mother's Day and Father's Day, it's a commercially driven rip-off. People are made to feel guilty if they don't buy in, and when they do, flower prices go up, and overcrowded restaurants charge more for just for that one day. When is it, anyway? Why do you ask?"

"It's next Friday."

"Then Matt will be out, and I don't have any plans yet. And?"

"David is going to be punished, and I want you to watch."

I was incredulous.

"What?"

"Katia is going to deliver corporal punishment."

"Like, a spanking."

"A little more severe than that. A caning."

"Why?"

"Because you slept with him."

I stared at her. My natural response was to deny it, but I knew that there was nothing to be gained from that. I wasn't going to apologise either. After all, she had fucked Matt.

"You know?" I said.

"Of course. And before you ask. How I know is completely unimportant.

"And because David fucked me he is going to be caned?"

"Exactly. By Katia. Hard. On his bare bum."

"Marjorie, how is this fair.? You fucked Matt and nobody was punished."

"You and Matt have your rules. I have mine and David knew exactly what would happen when I found out. There is nothing unfair about that."

"So, when he upsets you, you punish him?"

"Yes, he both wants and needs it.... I want to be clear, Susan, we are friends, and I don't blame you for fucking David any more than you mind me fucking Matt. There is a but.... In my house, I wear the trousers and when David fucks up I flog his sorry arse. This time he has really fucked up, so next Friday, Valentines Day, he will strip naked, and Katia will cane him whilst I watch. She's a very kinky girl, is Katia. She likes men and women and likes dishing out punishment to either."

"What makes you think I want to watch?"

"I don't know whether you want to watch or not. I'm offering you the chance. Katia says that 'more men want discipline than you can imagine, and there are a good few more that would benefit from the occasional hard lesson. Lots of women would love to watch their husbands receive a good hard caning.' "

She paused.

"If I'm honest, I hope you'll come. You're being there will add an element of shame to his punishment. It will make him more embarrassed if you're there to hear him cry and plead for Katia to stop...... One last thing.... Punishing David turns both me and Katia on, and we will both be naked and very horny during and after his caning."

***

So, there it was. Two sexual sadists were planning to administer a sound bare bum thrashing to David because he and I had fucked one another. I hoped that David had found my efforts worth it.

Now, I had to decide whether I wanted any part in it. I was very unsure what I should do, so I did what I always did. I talked it over with Matt.

"I warned you not to fuck him," he said. "There were bound to be consequences. Marjorie is a dominant, possessive woman, and I'm not surprised by what she's planning.. She is one kinky bitch and Katia is her girlfriend. We both know that when Marjorie shouts, 'jump.' David asks, 'how high.' David's caning will be consensual. In some way that I don't understand, he needs what they are going to do, and it will be a sexual act for him as well.

I had a girlfriend, Mary, before I met you. She liked to lie across my lap and take a real blistering with a hairbrush on her bare bum. She was a tiger in the sack afterwards. I think her father used to spank her, and she had daddy issues."

"What happened to her?"

"She went home to Lincoln......... Lincoln, Nebraska."

He paused for a second time.

"The point I'm making is this. It takes all sorts, and if you are in any way interested, you should go. You may love it, or you may hate it, but it's going to happen whether you are in the room or not. It may surprise you, but spanking Mary's bum turned me on. You may surprise yourself.

***

On Saturday night, I dreamed of David. I could not remember many of the details when I awoke, except that Katia was in it, holding a cane, and I was dripping between my legs.

The impending punishment was turning me on. There was also another thing. For the first time, I realised that it was unlikely that I would have David's dick up me, ever again, and I was disappointed.

Fortunately, it was Sunday morning, and there was time and opportunity for an alternative, long hard fuck. Matt and his dick were sleeping beside me, and soon I was able to wake them both with my fingers and mouth. When he was hard, I rode him to at least a half a dozen extremely satisfactory orgasms, but still I wanted more. I was still not completely satisfied, even after he bent me over the bed and when I came again he flooded me with his cum. That was when I reached for my rabbit vibrator.

Half an hour later, Matt asked me a question.

"What got into you this morning?"

"Apart from you? David's caning."

"Well, we know what you'll be doing for Valentine's Day."

***

I now realised, despite myself, that I was looking forward to seeing David caned. Truth be told, I was excited and ashamed in equal measure.

Late Sunday morning, I spoke to Marjorie on the phone.

"I'll be with you Friday evening."

"Excellent. I knew you'd come."

"What time?"

"We'll start at eight, so come around half an hour before.... Hang on a mo."

She put the telephone down, and then in the background, I heard her muted voice. She was talking to someone else. Then I heard her voice more clearly.

"Good news, David. Susan is going to watch Katia cane you on Friday night. Now, you'll have a real audience. Would you like to talk to her? She's on the other end of the phone."

For a few seconds, there was silence before I heard his voice.

"Hello, Susan."

"Hello. David."

I paused. I wasn't sure what to say, but before I could, he spoke again.

"You/re coming to watch?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You don't have anything to be sorry about. And please don't feel sorry for me. I deserve my punishment. I earned it. "

He paused.

"And I want it. Even if, while Katia is thrashing me, I say I don't. "

***

Friday evening arrived, and just before half past seven, I arrived at Marjorie and David's house. I had thought hard about how to dress, and under my thick coat I wore only a short woollen dress with no underwear. Marjorie and Katia both wore blue jeans and a white tee shirt and, when I arrived, were sitting in the lounge, each drinking a glass of white wine.

Resting on the coffee table, in front of them, were a leather strap and a long, thin punishment cane.

Marjorie fixed me a drink, and I sat silently and studied the instruments of David's correction. The strap was around two feet long, three inches wide and appeared freshly oiled. The cane was light brown, a yard or so long, with a black corded handle. The house was comfortably warm, but even so, I shivered involuntarily as I contemplated the pain and damage it could inflict. Then, my thoughts were interrupted, first by Katia and then by Marjorie.

"All we are missing is David."

"Patience, Dear. I told him, half past. He'll be down soon."

No sooner had she spoken than the lounge door opened, and David appeared. He was wearing only light blue cotton pyjamas and was bare-chested and barefoot. He must have been told not to speak because he said nothing as he crossed the room toward us.

"Come here and stand in front of me," said Katia.

I saw him glance at Marjorie.

"Katia is in charge now. My best advice is to do exactly as you're told."

He took her advice and stood silently with his arms by his side, facing Katia.

She looked him up and down before she spoke again.

"How do you say it in English? It's time for you to pay the piper. "

Her voice was calm and soft, falsely reassuring.

"Please take off your pyjamas, fold them, and place them on the coffee table behind you."

He took hold of his trousers at the waist and pulled them down before stepping out of them and neatly folding them as instructed. As he turned and bent to place them on the table, I watched her thoroughly inspecting his buttocks. At the same time, David had seen the strap and the cane, and when he turned around, his cock had started to grow. Soon, it was hard, long, and very thick, jutting out and pointing directly at Katia.

"My word, now I know what Susan found so attractive," she said approvingly.

She smiled.

"The strap and cane appear to excite you, David. Tell me, do they excite you?"

She looked enquiringly at him.

"Yes, Mrs Petrova."

"David, the thought of being caned may be exciting, but the reality is different. It's very painful indeed. I've caned many naughty girls and boys, and every one of them begged me to stop, and so will you. I'm going to hurt you. That's my job."

She turned to Marjorie, now ignoring David.

"He has a firm, broad bum. Twelve of the strap to warm him up, then eighteen of the cane. Will that be enough?"

"Plenty."

"Very well. If you wait here with Susan, I will prepare him for punishment and leave him waiting until eight o'clock. It will give him time to reflect on his mistake and anticipate his beating. I will be back shortly."

She looked directly at David.

"Pick up the cane and strap and come with me."

***

"Ten minutes later, she returned. He's ready. It's ten to. Can I recommend we start at ten past and give him a little longer to stew? His punishment should not be over too quickly."

"That's fine. Would you like another glass of wine? MRS Petrova," said Marjorie laughing.

"No, thank you. I like to keep a clear head. I'll maybe have one later."

"I didn't know you were married, I said."

"It was a long while ago, and I'm divorced. My husband was a disappointment to me."

She stopped talking, and it appeared that her marriage was not something she wanted to talk about further. For just a moment, she seemed lost in thought before she spoke again.

"I've never spoken to anybody of my divorce before, but maybe now is a good time.

I was raised in a small rural town about two hundred and fifty miles north of Yekaterinburg in the Urals. My parents were well-off by local standards, and we lived in a large house on the edge of town. When I was nineteen, I was married to the son of a rich merchant who was a family friend. He was good-looking and seemed a reasonable prospect, and I thought I was in love. He turned out to be an unfaithful pig and three months after we were married I caught him fucking Olga, the maid.

I gave Dimitri his marching orders and threw him out of the house. The following day, my mother, my two sisters, and I went to Olga's home where she lived with her mother and father, and I told them what she had done. They were appalled by her behaviour and extremely angry. That day, her mother and my family took her to the forest and made her cut twelve lengths of hazel to be tied into three birch rods. She was forced to bind the rods together herself, and then they were placed in an old enamel bath to soak in salt water overnight.

The day afterward, her mother brought Olga to our house, where she was given a sound birching. I can still remember it vividly. We placed a bench in the backyard. It was a warm summer's day, and she was forced to strip naked for her punishment. Only Olga, her mother, my mother, my two elder sisters, and I were present, but she still tried to cover her bush. Her mother told her not to be so stupid; we were all women. and in any case she had already had a man's dick inside her. It was a little late for modesty, although if she had kept hers, she wouldn't be about to be flogged.. Then she instructed me to whip her daughter's arse thoroughly, use up all three birches on her, and teach her a proper lesson: a lesson appropriate for an adulteress.

I had no hesitation in doing what her mother wanted. I realised I was looking forward to flogging Olga very much, and under my skirt my cunt was wet with arousal.

Olga was a plain peasant girl and was short and stout with big floppy tits and an enormous pale, flabby bum. We stretched her, face down, on the long wooden bench with a bag of grain under her belly to raise her buttocks for the birch. Each of the women took an arm or a leg to hold her down, and then I whipped her. Each birch was made of four four-foot lengths of hazel and needed two hands to hold and swing it. I wasn't as fit as I am today, but after three dozen hard strokes, I thought she'd had enough. Her mother disagreed and said she needed more. If she went home with even an inch of unflayed flesh, her father would take a horsewhip to her bum. So, we changed places, and her mother furiously gave her another dozen strokes. When she had finished, Olga's milky white skin had turned a bright tomato red from the top of her bum to the bottom of her thighs. She was sobbing uncontrollably; she wasn't going to sit comfortably for at least a week, and she had learned a valuable lesson.

Don't fuck another woman's man unless she says you can."

She paused.

"Then, I went to my room, locked the door, took off all my clothes, lay on my bed, and masturbated. And whilst I wanked, I relived the punishment I had given - the loud whistling of the birch, and the beautiful red marks it made, the sight of Olga's big round arse jumping with each stroke, and the sound of her cries of pain. And I wondered about something else. When Olga rose to her feet, no longer bothered to cover herself, I saw that the lips of her sex were pink and swollen. Whether it was sexual arousal or the increased blood flow to the parts, caused by the birch, I could not say. Since then, I have learned that swollen labia or an erection is a sign of a well-delivered thrashing, and it continues to excite me.

I learned something else that day. It was about me. I lost a husband but discovered my true nature, I learned that I love to give a flogging - almost as much as I love fucking. That fat cow deserved it so much. She was an adulteress and a whore."

She stopped talking momentarily, looked directly at me, and smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. I sensed threat and menace in it. Despite her beauty, she was not somebody to be trifled with.

"That's the story of my marriage."

As I smiled back, I realised she had sent me a message. Although she had enjoyed our threesome, she would take great pleasure in birching me, and she believed that was what I deserved.

***

A few minutes later, it was time. Marjorie led me to a door at the end of the hallway and instructed me to follow her and Katia down a flight of stairs and close the hallway door behind us. When we arrived at the bottom of the stairs, there was a second door through which we passed.

"The music room, now refurbished and repurposed," said Marjorie.

We were in a large, well-lit space. The walls were covered with acoustic tiles, and the floor was covered in a plush red pile carpet. In the centre of the room was an upholstered red leather spanking trestle to which David was strapped in a kneeling position with his bum raised and his body slanting slightly downward. Buckled leather straps held his thighs and ankles firmly in place, about eighteen inches apart. Straps around the small of his back and his upper back immobilised his torso completely. To complete the job, his wrists were buckled to the front of the device.

As I took in the scene in front of me, I saw that David's bum, unblemished white when he had left the lounge, was now marked by a single oblong red mark and a long purple, ridged weal.

Katia saw me frown.

"After I tied him down, I gave him a taste of each one, to think about whilst he waited."

Two red leather armchairs were placed a few feet apart against the wall behind the trestle. From either, not more than twelve feet away, David's bum was clearly visible. Marjorie indicated I should sit in one, then moved toward the other.

As I watched, Katia tied her long hair into a knot. Then, both began to shed their clothes. First, they removed their jeans and then their tee shirts.

Underneath, Marjorie was unashamedly naked. Her breasts were big and firm, her bum was large and dimpled, and she had a roll of fat around her waist, Between her flabby thighs, her fleshy hairless cunt lips were visible.

Katia could not have been more different. She wore a pair of black silk stockings that accentuated her strong muscular thighs and her gap and framed the slit that lay between them. She carried no extra fat on her firm buttocks. Her abdomen was flat, and her six-pack was on display. Her shoulders were wide and her arms well-muscled and strong. Her body was a testament to hours spent in the gym and to an iron will to achieve it, and I knew that she would make David suffer.

Katia stood over David and examined his backside before stooping and picking up a small bottle from the floor. She squeezed the contents over his lower back and upper buttocks and then she slowly massaged the oily liquid into the skin of his bum and thighs, making sure she did not miss the anal cleft. When she was satisfied, she turned and saw me look enquiringly at his glistening bum.

"Baby oil. It makes it sting more," she explained.

Katia crossed the room to where Marjorie sat and took the strap from a table in the corner next to her, before she walked around the trestle, and spoke softly to David. Meanwhile, Marjorie picked up a wand vibrator from the table, and as I watched, she switched it on. She placed the gently buzzing toy between her legs, lay back in her chair with her legs apart, and waited, her eyes fixed on David.

Katia walked back and stood facing us, several feet from David's left and parallel with his buttocks. I saw her glance at him and adjust her position slightly. Then, legs spread, strap firmly held in her right hand and hanging down by her thigh, she waited.

"I'm ready, Marjorie."

"Twelve strokes, thirty seconds apart, Katia. Make him sorry."

"Oh. I will."

I heard the wand buzz louder.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Please give it to him."

***

Suddenly, with the speed and poise of an athlete, Katia exploded into action. Several things happened at once. She threw the strap high above her head, brought her right foot forward and made a quarter turn to her left while bringing the strap rapidly down and across in a wide arc to impact firmly across the upper part of his left bum cheek. Her movement was perfectly controlled. She did not need to apply the full power of her back, shoulder, and arm muscles to deliver the stroke, which made a most satisfactory meaty thwacking sound as it landed across his bottom and bounced away.

"Thwaaapp!"

Over the sound of the wand, I heard David.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

And then Marjorie.

"Oh fuck, that has to hurt!"

Katia adjusted her position, and thirty seconds later, she struck again. This time, I watched her face closely as she hit him and saw a feral look of enjoyment in her cold blue eyes. It was clear that she loved what she was doing. It was just as clear that David didn't.

"Thwaapp!"

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

The strap landed squarely on the upper far right cheek, leaving a red oblong mark. On the left, a bruise was already starting to develop.

Beside me, Marjorie was busy with her wand.

Beside David, Katia waited and watched Marjorie. Then, I saw her eyes narrow and her teeth bare; she pirouetted, and the strap rose and fell.

"Thwaap!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

"That's right. Give it to him hard."

It was around then that the real punishment and pleasure began. Restrained as they were, David's buttocks barely moved under the strap, but his bum flesh rippled after each fresh stroke and his muscles twitched and trembled in anticipation of the next - and the pain that would come with it. His moans grew loader as his skin darkened and reddened.

Marjorie's moans of pleasure had also grown louder, and by the sixth stroke of the strap, her orgasm was approaching fast. She had kept up a running commentary as David's "lesson" had progressed, pleading with Katia to "make him suffer, hit him harder, make him pay."

Following the sixth stroke of the strap, not an inch of his cheeks remained unblemished. His buttocks were a quiltwork of pink and red with blue and purple blotches dotted here and there.

As Katia took her position to deliver the seventh stroke, Marjorie's legs were stretched out straight in front of her, her thighs were trembling, her toes were pointing, and with both hands she forced the wand onto her slit. As she orgasmed, she leaned forward and then fell back. I heard her moan in ecstasy.

"Ohhhhhhhhh Fuuuuucccck!"

Just then, the strap fell violently across the centre of David's buttocks. The stroke was the hardest yet and, for the first time, fell on tender meat. The loud crack of leather on flesh was followed by a cry of anguish from David and a scream of affirmation from Marjorie.

"THWAAAAAP!"

"FUCK NO!"

"YES! YES! YES!!!"

***

The sight of David's reddening buttocks, his sounds of anguish, and the slow, deliberate way Katrina was applying the strap to his trembling flesh was so exciting. His legs and bum cheeks were pulled apart by his bindings, exposing his crack, anus, and his perineum, and with each stroke his anus puckered in agony. Despite his pain, his penis was erect.

In front of me, a statuesque and implacable woman was taking sadistic pleasure as she flogged him.

Beside me, the woman who had ordered the flogging was masturbating with a vibrator, cumming loudly, as she watched her sadosexual fantasy fulfilled.

My cunt was dripping, and I pulled my woollen dress over my head and threw it on the floor. Naked, with my bum sticking to the leather. I reached down and pushed two fingers into my cunt.

The eighth stroke fell, David loudly objected, and I found my clit. Then, as Katrina drove the strap four more times across the tortured red and swelling nates in front of me, I frantically frigged myself. The soundproof room was filled with the sounds of buzzing and groans punctuated, every thirty seconds, by the slap of leather on bum meat.

Finally, the strapping was complete, twelve strokes had been delivered, Marjorie, for now, was satisfied, and the vibrator lay quiet. Only my fingers continued to be busy as I waited for the next part of the punishment to be delivered.

Katrina had said nothing, but now she walked to the head of the trestle and spoke softly in David's ear. Then she walked to the table next to Marjorie, put the strap down, and retrieved a double-ended strap-on dildo. She slipped one lubricated end inside her snatch and cinched the leather strap tight. Now, armed with eight inches of flesh-coloured rigid flesh she turned, and for a moment I wondered how Davis was going to enjoy taking it up the arse, and my fingers worked a little faster.

Katrina showed a little charity and turned away from David. Marjorie knelt on the armchair and held the back and Katrina inserted the dido into her cunt. Then, Katia fucked Marjorie. They were both desperate for it, and Katia drove the silicon phallus quickly in and out. It was animalistic and effective, and soon, their cries of passion filled the air, driving me to a shuddering climax of my own.

As we each took our selfish carnal pleasure, David lay, for now, forgotten. Little matter, since soon he would be the centre of attention again.

***

Before she took the cane to him, Katia stood behind David and massaged his bum. Her long, strong fingers dug into the bruised flesh, the strap-on nudged against him, and he winced as she worked. Five minutes later, she was satisfied.

"Please don't mistake this for kindness, David. I want you to properly feel the cane," she said, before rubbing more baby oil into the skin.

She looked at me but spoke for the benefit of David.

"And it WILL hurt. The pain is quite exquisite.

Ready at last, she measured the cane across his trembling arse and looked at Marjorie.

"Twelve strokes at thirty-second intervals and then a rest before the final six?"

I saw Marjorie nod.

She lifted the rod over her head, crouched and quickly stood, using her elbow and her wrist to drive the cane, whistling loudly, against his flesh. As Katia rose and struck, the strap-on penis swung lewdly up land down, and the cane bit his arse and bounced away. It left a white line that rapidly turned red, his buttocks quivered, and he gasped.

Aaaarggghhh!

"Katia, please release his thigh straps just a little," said Marjorie. "I want to watch him dance."

And so, Katia did.

The second stroke impacted just below the first, leaving a long red weal. This time, his bottom jerked violently up and down as he processed the pain, and the rubber penis swayed violently - a barometer of the power of the stroke. I heard his voice.

"Ohhhh! Fuck it hurts!"

"You cunt! It's meant to hurt!" said Marjorie.

I saw her lean forward in her seat and wait for Katia to strike again.

The third stroke bit, eliciting a violent jerking of his buttocks so powerful that the trestle shook.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh Nnnnnno!"

****

Whilst I was in the music room, a myriad of thoughts and emotions crossed my mind. I was fascinated by the cruelty of David's discipline and its undeniable sexuality. I sensed a bond had formed between Katia and David, from which the onlookers, Marjorie, and I had been excluded, and I wondered who gained most, the giver or the taker of the pain. At first, I had felt guilty at my part in earning David his suffering, but then I began to wonder how it felt to submit to Katia before I formed an image of fat-bummed Olga screaming under the birch.

Then, as the fourth stroke scalded him, my shocking fantasy was complete. I imagined it was me, not David, bound across the trestle. Katia no longer held a cane but wielded a four-foot hazel birch that sliced into my bare buttocks. Now I screamed, not David, as my flesh was flayed, and it was my twat that dripped, not his dick that stood erect.

The image was overwhelming, my cunt was sopping wet, As Katia slowly and pitilessly carved a dozen parallel, first red, then crimson, and finally dark blue ridges, into his writhing buttocks, and as he cried out in agony, my fingers were a blur against my erect, engorged clitoris, and I screamed out in ecstasy.

***

Sated, sweaty, and exhausted, I lay back against the armchair. David also lay still, his bum a swollen, tattered mess.

Katia stood facing us, legs slightly parted, cane in her hand. Her face was flushed, her lips were moist, and her eyes sparkled. Between her legs, the phallus stood erect.

"Six really hard ones to finish, "she said. "I'm going to place the cane tip in the cleft."

I saw her take position and slowly raise the cane.

I didn't think. Later, I had moments when I wished I had.

"Stop," I shouted. "He's had enough. Punish me instead. I'll take his remaining strokes."

Katia paused and looked at Marjorie, and then Marjorie looked at me. A wicked smile formed on her face, and she took a long enquiring look at me.

"You're serious," she said,

"Completely."

"Sounds reasonable and delicious," said Marjorie.

"Fuck off," said Katia. Her voice was hard and cold. "That won't do at all. Adulteresses deserve the birch on the bare, Two dozen hard strokes, and she'll cut the hazel, bind, then soak it."

"If she agrees," said Marjorie.

"Let her take it or leave it," said Katia. "If she wants, she can still watch what I can do to a man's arse with six strokes of the cane when I really try."

Marjorie turned to face me.

"Well? Your choice."

Katia had me over a barrel - or at least, soon she would have me over the trestle. I compromised and played for time. I knew David would be out of action for at least two weeks.

"First, I get to fuck David again."

"Deal," she replied, "and how I hope you live to regret it."

***

As Marjorie knelt on all fours on the carpet, and Katia slipped the strap-on dido back inside her cunt, I undid David's straps. They were otherwise occupied and didn't notice as I escorted him to bed.

In the bedroom, I made him lie across my naked lap, First, I gently ran my finger across his bruised and furrowed bum and kissed his bruises. Next, I rubbed arnica onto his wounds. Finally, I dealt with the one outstanding problem; his long, thick, and extremely hard and angry penis which lay pointing backwards between his thighs. I covered it with spit to lubricate it well and milked him as you would a cow. His erect prick was too thick for me to take the shaft in my palm. Instead, I held it between my thumb and fingers and slowly rubbed. Now, I started to talk dirty as I jerked.

"Do you want to fuck my cunt?

I'm so wet thinking about what you're going to do to me.

I'm going to bend over and let you fuck my slit from behind.

I'm going to wrap my tits around your dick and blow you until you come in my mouth,

I want for you to lick me out and to cum all over your face."

Soon, I felt his shaft begin to strain. His helmet was a swollen, glistening purple mushroom as I slid my fingers up and down his slippery meat. I sucked a finger, and while I continued to wank him, I slowed pushed my finger up his arse,

"Are you going to come for me?" I whispered. "I want to see you cum. I want to see you spurt and empty your balls."

His shaft began to pulse and grow. I heard him groan in pleasure and his cock erupted, as stream after stream of thick white semen splashed across the sheet on which I was sitting.

He did not move or speak but lay without moving across my lap. Eventually, I spoke.

"You've been very brave," I murmured.

"And you've been very stupid.... But thank you. She's going to hurt you."

"I know..... Will you watch her beat me?"

"Yes. I doubt that I will have a choice."

"Will you enjoy it/"

Did you enjoy watching her caning me?

Yes. Very much.

"So why did you stop her?"

"I wanted to know what a thrashing feels like. Katia is cleverer than me. I expected six cane strokes, not two dozen of the birch."

"If I were you, I would refuse to go through with it. Nobody can force you."

"A deal is a deal," I replied.

"Then, I shall enjoy watching her birching you too... Very much. I will be fucking Marjorie as we watch Katia see to you."

"One last thing. What did Katia say to you when she had you tied to the trestle?"

"Before she strapped me, she told me that she was going to birch you. Afterwards, she promised me a fucking, after your birching is complete."

***