Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne.
Originally titled “Aunt’s Medicine – Third Dose”
“You may think you’ve had enough, but I decide how many strokes you get,” said Aunt Judy. “I am in charge around here and you are getting another six for being so cheeky. Count these ones out loud for me, sweetie.”
SWISH-CRACK!
“One, Auntie.”
SWISH-CRACK!
“OUUUUCH. Two Auntie!”
SWISH-CRACK!
“OWWWW! Three Auntie.”
SWISH-CRACK!
“Four Auntie.”
SWISH-CRACK!
“AAAARRRGH! Oh, Auntie, Five!
SWISH-THWAAACK!
“AAAAARRRGGGH! Six Auntie, thank you!”
“No need to thank me girl!” said Aunt Judy as she hung the cane back on the door hook. “I think you will benefit from regular discipline in future. Say every Friday, before you set off for work. What do you say?”
“Thank you Auntie, you’re probably right. Gosh that was a hard caning. My bottom feels like it’s on fire.”
“Good! That’s how it’s supposed to be. Lie down and let me feel it. That’s it. Mmmmmmmm yes, it’s really hot and throbbing. Do you want some more?” Judy laughed. Both women realised it was a question which didn’t need a reply.
“Yes, er no not now thank you, Friday will be fine Auntie. I think I’ll just tidy my room now if you don’t mind.”
“That’s a very good idea, Jane. Do a good job or the cane will be visiting your bottom a lot sooner than Friday!”
What a change there had been in Jane! Now she often now enjoyed tidying and cleaning. Coupled with her good work at Kitty’s restaurant, Aunt Judy was beginning to feel proud of her. The planned Friday canings would help keep her in line too. Judy wished she could confide in Jane’s mother about the canings but didn’t want to spoil things.
Friday morning soon came around. As luck would have it, Jane was in a foul mood. Over breakfast, there was a distinct frostiness in the air. Jane tidied up and did the washing up, although as it reminded her of her paid work in the restaurant, she did rather resent it.
“Well Jane? Ready for your caning?” Aunt Judy asked.
“No, I’m not sure this is fair. Or a good idea,” said Jane, “I think you’ve forgotten how much that cane hurts”.
“Oh no I haven’t!” said Aunt Judy. “Once felt, never forgotten. I used to get it regularly and it’s obvious to me that you need it regularly, too. You’re in a bad mood and I need to beat that out of you. Go and get the cane. We’ll do it in the front room as I don’t want to miss my programme.”
Jane returned with the whippy cane in her hand. Aunt Judy was slumped on the sofa, fiddling with the TV remote.
“Better undress, I think Jane. I want you on all fours at right angles to me so that I can watch TV and discipline you at the same time. Now how many strokes do you think Jane?”
“Er how about six?” said Jane. “Don’t play games with me, dear,” said Judy wagging the cane at her. “Twelve?” Judy shook her head. “Sixteen?” Jane asked, looking a little panic stricken. “No, more than that, I think. We need to beat the devil out of you. And we don’t want any relapses before next Friday, do we? How old are you now?”
“23!” replied Jane. “Then we’ll make it 23 strokes Jane,” said Aunt Judy, flexing the cane with relish. Jane bent over and then got onto all fours submissively. This was quite a humiliating position to be placed in, and all because her aunt wanted to watch an antiques show on the TV!
Judy leant forward and placed her left hand on Jane’s back. This was to be a close-up caning and the strokes were hard and intense. That old cane was still a force to be reckoned with. Jane bucked and wriggled under the strokes. Although the burning pain was intense, she could feel herself becoming moist and turned on. Oh how she gasped with each stroke, sticking her bottom out submissively and rubbing her thighs together when possible.
“Jane, you’re not getting pleasure from this are you?” Aunt Judy asked. But of course, she was and so were both of them. They had worked that out last time. “Oh no, Auntie. I could never get any pleasure out of this, it hurts so badly.”
“That’s good, because if I thought you were, it would be double strokes for you!” Jane’s arse was covered in red marks and ridges from the caning. How attractive it looked like that thought Aunt Judy. Perhaps weekly canings were not going to be often enough after all…
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Story and photo © 2011 by Rod Cayenne
Comments always welcome
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