Our families were very close, and in the holidays I saw Caroline quite often. Had done since being small. Just as well, since, being at boarding school, I knew no other girls. At seventeen we were still virgins, and sex with Caroline was never even discussed between us. Not that she didn’t excite me on the quiet, and I would go home after playing tennis with her all day, to dream of her and fantasise of that flying skirt. But I’d still not even kissed her.

At last one day we were alone in the house, as her mother had gone shopping. I had the courage to talk of bodies; the difference between hers and mine. After a lot of hesitation she even agreed to show me hers if I showed mine first. So I undressed. She walked round me, showing interest in my body for the first time, but not touching. She looked hard at my prick, which was stiffening slightly. That was exciting in itself, but I was desperately wanting to see her body. At last she took off her skirt to reveal a very transparent underskirt and some wispy knickers beneath.

And then her mother walked in.

“Oh! And what are you two up to?” As if it wasn’t obvious. Now Caroline’s mother (I called her Aunt) was very young for a mother, and the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. She was vivacious, glamorous and very very good company. So to be in her bad books was awful. I didn’t know where to put myself. And I didn’t know what to do with my prick, which was still a bit swollen. Aunt gave me not so much a ticking off, as a reproachful talking-to. About how I had let her down. The threat to tell my father was awful, and I begged her not to. She explained that it was her duty to tell, but would I instead take the punishment that Caroline was shortly to get? I agreed without hesitation. Anything!

So Aunt asked Caroline to go and fetch the cane.

Now the cane must have been much in use in that household, unknown to me, for Caroline knew exactly where it was stored, and quickly came back with it. I expected her to give it to her mother but instead, to my horror, Aunt said, “Caroline will have to cane you, John. I can’t do it as I’ve strained my wrist. Now come here, stand in front of me, and bend over.” My face flushed red, but I did as she said. She made me rest my forearms on her thighs. My elbows were over her knees, and she made me grip the top of her thighs with my hands. I’d never been so close to her, and I was overwhelmed by her proximity and the smell of perfume. This was all so new to me. Naked in front of the two most sexy women I knew, about to be severely hurt (I’d been flogged a few times at school, so I knew what it was like), submitting to my girlfriend, and (most amazing of all) actually grasping the upper thighs of my sexy Aunt. My head was in a whirl.

“Six strokes, Caroline, if you please!” Caroline seemed to know what to do, and she took up the usual position to my left, and reached out with the cane. She tapped my bottom gently, and I sensed her swinging back the cane.

The pain, when it came, was not as bad as I’d expected, and I knew I could last out six strokes without showing cowardice. I took three, but then to my surprise Aunt called out “Stop!” I stood up, and Aunt gave Caroline a lecture about laying on firmly. “It won’t do John any good, because I’ll wait until your father comes home, and he will take the skin off his bottom. And it won’t do you any good, either, because he’ll probably do the same to you. So lets have six proper strokes. Now!” So I bent over to grasp Aunts thighs again, and Caroline measured her distance with the cane. This time there was no holding back on Caroline’s part, and they really hurt. After three I was gasping, and seriously wondering if I could help crying out. So I concentrated on my closeness to Aunt. After the second stroke, which had caught me by surprise, I had overbalanced slightly and my head had come into contact with Aunt’s upper body. Her arms had come round my neck, and she was gently hugging me to herself. The scent of her body mingled with the perfume to overwhelm my senses, and I started to think about Aunts breasts, only inches from my face.

This helped me get through the last three strokes. Indeed so thrilled was I with my contact with Aunt that I have no recollection of distress. “You may stand up now, John.” I did as I was told. So there I was, standing only inches away from her. I reached behind to hold my raging buttocks. I had now been naked in Caroline’s presence for half an hour, and had more to think about than showing my genitals off. So they were aware of it long before I noticed. A rampant erection! There was dead silence. Aunt I could see was staring hard at it. Behind me, I was sure that Caroline would be too. In fact I heard her gasp with surprise. I just wanted to drop through the floor. My face must have been as red as my knob-end. Aunt and her daughter were far too well brought up to make a cheap comment about the erection. Quite the reverse! They said nothing at all about it. If anything, that made it worse.

“Turn round, John,” said Aunt. “I want to see your bottom.” I did as she asked, relieved to turn my erection away from her, but now I was pointing it straight at Caroline. I expected her to be laughing at me, but her face was solemn and I thought she looked very nervous. I had forgotten that she was to be punished too. Aunt reached out a hand and her delicate fingers stroked the stripes. “Well done, Caroline! You did well in the end.”

“Now, John, my daughter still has to receive the same punishment. Change places with her!” Me! Having to hit Caroline with a cane! It just wasn’t real. I turned to Caroline and she handed the cane over to me. I wanted to put some clothes on, but they seemed to want to get straight on with the caning, so I waited as Caroline bent over her mother’s lap. “Lift Caroline’s slip over her back, John. Haven’t you ever seen someone caned before?” Well I had, but not a girl.

I was genuinely shocked to see how little of Caroline’s backside was covered by her knickers, which were terribly brief and cut-away. The underslip was made of very fine slippery material, and I had difficulty in making it stay in place. Eventually I worked out that I could tuck it into the waistband. I was clumsy doing that, since I needed two hands and I didn’t have the nous to lay the cane on the floor. I stood back from her and got the cane ready. I was desperately nervous and my hands trembled. I was sweating and the cane squirmed in my wet palm . I reached out to measure my distance and shuffled my feet. I realised Caroline would want me to get on with it, so I quickly swished at her without aiming properly. A pink line sprang up immediately. It was too low, by far. Caroline reacted angrily. “That was too low. You’ve hit my legs.” But she stayed in place.

I looked at her bottom. Should I aim for the part that was covered by her panties? That would be far too high, I was sure, as the cane would bounce off over her back. The panties cut away sharply at her hips. So I aimed at the place where a vee of panty disappeared between her legs. The second stroke was better and Caroline took it without complaining. The next skidded upwards and for an instant I thought I was going to hit her mother’s chest. I was not really in control, but I managed to get three onto her bottom, with one high and the other two low down on Caroline’s legs. I was so relieved when it was all over, but now that the action was over, I had nothing to think about except my deep embarrassment.

“Thank you, John!” said my Aunt, as Caroline slowly straightened up. “You both took your punishment very well, so I’ll put some cream on for you. You first, Caroline! Lie on the bed!” She pulled Caroline’s knickers down and produced a bottle of cream from which she spread a generous amount over Caroline’s bottom. I was fascinated. The stripes were showing quite red now, and it all looked very sore. I was amazed that Caroline had taken the caning so well. It was as though she was very used to it, and probably my caning was not as hard as her usual one. The sight of a hand massaging Caroline’s backside was quite amazing, and did nothing to bring my erection under control.

Then it was my turn. I was glad to hide my erection when I lay face down on the bed. It was as big as ever, and took some tucking away. When Aunt’s gentle fingers started working on my buttocks the sensation was. . . sensational. I lay there thinking this was the most wonderful experience of my life, but worried too that when I stood up the embarrassing erection would be with us again.

When I did stand up, the erection seemed even bigger than I’d feared, but again they were too polite to mention it, and I was told to dress.

I feared that I would never be allowed back into the house. But on my way out, passing Aunt at the front door, she looked at me with twinkling eyes, and in that sexy voice of hers said, “You can come back to see us whenever you like.”