Erotic entertainment by Rod Cayenne, not to be confused with earlier story “Blue Rinse Brigade”
They were just off duty, though still in uniform. In the secluded part of the pub garden, they were enjoying a drink together, watching the boaters on the river. “This is good stuff, Sarge!” said WPC Rose Hill as she puffed on the spliff.
“Yes, young Rosie, it certainly is the finest in the city. There’s a dealer in my block,” Sergeant Jon Radcliffe replied. “Of course, I should really bust him, but he’s a mate, really. A really nice guy. He sees that I am looked after.”
“With dope I suppose?”
“Yes,” said the sergeant, “And a pound or two of flesh.” It was his turn to have a draw on the dope.
“Flesh? You mean like a hooker?”
“Not exactly, Rosie. I like a bit of bottom spanking, and he provides me with a willing victim now and then.” Obviously the dope had loosened the sergeant’s tongue and inhibitions.
“Oh, I had no idea. You shouldn’t really be telling me all this, should you? Although a lot of us cops are into S&M.”
“Yes, indeed. Most of us, I’d say. You definitely are, Rosie!”
“I’ve seen the log of your internet usage. Clearing the cache isn’t enough, you know. You really shouldn’t be looking at that sort of thing. Especially at work. I’ve seen it all on your log – spanking, caning, paddling, bare bottoms and cheeks galore.”
“Yes, Rosie! Sarge here knows all about it.”
“But Sarge, it was research!”
“Research, my arse!”
“Yes, you’ve been a very naughty and very stupid lass, haven’t you Rosie?”
“Yes, I suppose I have.”
“Yes, there’s no supposing about it at all. Now, I can be forgiving. How about you come back to my flat so that we can conduct some in-depth research together?”
“Have I got much choice?”
“No, not really,” he said puffing on the oversize spliff, “I think you know that you really do need to come back with me.”
“But what about my mum?”
“Well, you can’t bring her as well!” cackled the sergeant, as swirls of smoke engulfed the pair of them.
“No, I didn’t mean that, silly! I meant, what am I going to tell her?”
“Just tell her you’re on a hot date with your boss. It’s the truth, after all. Tell her not to wait up.” He winked at Rose as she picked up her mobile.
Strangely, she repeated his words verbatim to her mother. Now it was Rose’s turn to wink at him.
They walked hand in hand back to his flat. She trusted him implicitly, although she was sure she was going to get a very sore bottom very soon. Yes, she was sure about that alright. She was almost looking forward to it!
Back at the flat, the coffee was freshly ground and almost intoxicating. There was no messing about with Sergeant Jon. He knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted her bottom, and he had carefully engineered the whole evening around his kink. Already her trousers were at half mast.
“Knickers down, Rose.”
She started to protest, but he reminded her that she had been viewing bared bottoms in police time. She felt that she had to oblige and so she slipped down the delicate white lace panties.
“Oh yes! Very nice indeed. What a delightful bottom you have, young Rose.”
Her hands covered her front, but her bottom was exposed. The pretense was over. She knew what she had to do. She draped herself over his lap. Beneath her, his cock began to stir. He raised his right hand and slapped it down on her bare bottom. Not too hard, but not terribly gently either. She gasped audibly, and then his hand slapped down again and again.
They were both enjoying it. She wriggled like a minx on his lap, while his sadistic urges were making him stiffer by the second. His hand smacked down again and again on her beautiful bottom, which was turning redder and redder. It was most satisfying, and he continued for a while longer. Then suddenly he pushed her off his lap, saying, “I think perhaps sterner measures are called for!”
He headed into his bedroom, and came back with a black leather studded strap.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “It looks fierce but it’s not as bad as it looks.”
He showed her it. Across the front the word POLICE had been embossed.
“That’s never official issue, Jon!” she exclaimed.
“No, it’s not. I just had that added as a customisation. I was thinking of having E II R stamped on it as well. Some of my spankees really like the thought that it’s a police punishment strap.”
“That’s a laugh, isn’t it?” she smiled. “They must be pretty naive.”
“Yes, indeed. Almost as naive as you have been with your less than secret surfing habits. Over my lap again!”
He gave her about thirty stinging strokes with the leather. It was a warm, caressing pain that she felt as it hit home relentlessly. There was a delightful crack each time it landed. By the end she was quite sore, but also quite turned on.
“Take my trousers off!” he ordered. Slowly, she unbuckled his thick leather belt, and gently unzipped him. His genuine police-issue trousers fell to the ground.
“Now get my pants off!” he commanded. She edged them down, revealing his proud erection.
“You can give that a bloody good suck in a minute, but first there’s something else I need from the bedroom.”
He returned with a crook-handled rattan school cane. He whipped it through the air, with a broad grin on his face.
Rose was stood in front of him, gently rubbing her soundly spanked bottom. She couldn’t manage a grin at all. In fact, she looked quite crushed and crestfallen.
“Oh Jon, I don’t think I can take any more, my bottom’s really sore now! Not the cane. Please.”
“Now who’s being silly?” he asked, “This is for my bottom. The cane is for men. Real men and naughty boys like me! Are you going to cane me then, Rose?”
“Oh yes! Thank God. Yes please!”
“Good lass. Thank you. I deserve it. I’ve been a very naughty boy. I’ll just bend over the dining table for you. Don’t hold back now, I can take a lot!”
SWISH-CRACK! The first stroke landed with venom, and how Rose smiled as the red stripe appeared on his hairy, naked bottom. She was going to enjoy this! It was revenge for her own still smarting, chastised bottom.
SWISH-CRACK! The second stroke was harder, for little did the sergeant know, Rose was an experienced caner. She had enjoyed an outrageous affair with a female flatmate who had introduced her to the delights of the rattan rod. Right then, she didn’t want to disabuse the sergeant of his notion that the cane was for males only.
SWISH-CRACK! She was going for gold alright!
SWISH-CRACK! She desperately wanted to hurt and punish him.
SWISH-CRACK! This was such a turn-on for her.
SWISH-CRACK! Six strokes had been delivered but she sensed that he wanted more, and could take them.
SWISH-CRACK! His bottom seemed almost defiant as the marks of the cane seemed to fade fast, as if by magic.
In the end, he did take a lot. 24 strokes on his bared bottom. Rose didn’t hold back at all. She relished every whippy stroke that she inflicted. His meaty, male arse was made for the cane. She’d caned him hard. Harder than she’d intended. Towards the end of his beating, the marks left by the cane strokes had become more prominent and persistent. She took the opportunity to feel the damage. And afterwards, she did suck his stiff cock as though her life depended on it. They ended up in bed, and were married a year later. At least half the station attended the reception at the Police Club.
Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne
* IMPORTANT – DISCLAIMER *
This is a work of fiction. The author does not participate in substance abuse or condone it.
FURTHER DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.