Chain Story 2

This is the second in a series of stories which were created by you, the reader.


Joanne's eyes widened as she felt the weathered worn leather of the object.  Her hand ran over the vaguely familiar surface. She remembered back to when she knew such objects with more frequency.  Memories rushed back.  She found herself recalling friends and good times...

"So are you interested in it?"

Joanne snapped back to reality. 

"Sorry, what did you say there?"

"Are you interested in this piece?"

"Erm..." Joanne hesitated "how much did you say it was?"

"Well it's marked £40, but I'll let you have it for £30"

"Ok, you've got a buyer"

"Do you want it delivered or will you take it now?"

"I'll take it with me now Mr Mortimer.  Could you help me carry it out to my car though?"


Joanne handed over the money, Mr Mortimer carried it out to her car and business transacted, Joanne drove home.


Ted Mortimer went back into the shop, which had become more of a store, since his main busines was now some thirty miles to the south in Eastbourne.

The sale would leave more space, once the original wrapping, in which it had arrived, was cleared. However, midst the string and paper residue, was still a cardboard tube, such as may be used for project drawings, carrying the same Lot Number. Having cut the sealing tape, Ted found the tin lid easy to remove and he slid out the contents.

The four items were of excellent quality and in no way deteriorated. He knew a client or two who would pay his asking price for these gems!

On the other hand, there might be a more interesting game to play. The reason for common Lot Numbers was clear so... should Part 2 not be delivered to his last customer, with his personal compliments?

Mrs. Mather had chatted as her car was loaded and explained that her move to "Rodings", on the road into the next village was recent.

Ted knew the place and decided to call in with the tube and see what reaction the delivery would precipitate.

On arrival her car was not in the drive, nor in the garage. Sounding the door knocker produced no response. Somewhat disappointed, Ted wrote "your property I believe" on a visiting card and tucked it into a rubber band still left on the cardboard cylinder.

He drove away, suspecting he would hear no more, but still in some expectation. Gratitude, alarm, "warmth"... ?


Joanne returned home that afternoon to be greeted by the card bearing Ted Mortimer's name. She hastily opened the tube with bewilderment as to its possible contents. Stumbling with the front door the contents fell to the floor to reveal what looked to be four slim bamboo or rattan sticks. Their varying gauge and distinct crook-handles left no doubt as to what these were. They were canes! Oh my god she thought. What was the meaning of this? She felt a combination of humiliation and embarrassment as it slowly dawned on her the exact affiliation of these instruments with her recent purchase. The perfect companion instrument she thought, as she eyeballed and handled the slimmest of the canes.

Touching it carefully, as though it were made of electricity. She tested it playfully through the air...SSSsswwwwwish....

She struggled with her desire to make contact with Ted Mortimer. The ball was squarely in her court. Like a moth to the flame she found herself wanting to speak with this man. She would simply thank him and "clear the air", so to speak, and that would be the end of the matter.

"Um.. hello, Mr Mortimer.......thank you, I mean how kind of you to drop that parcel in the other day", she said.

Clearing his throat he was keen to convey an attitude of professionalism whilst seeming friendly.

"It was no trouble at all.....happy to be of service ma'am... and be sure your little secret is safe with me", he chuckled.

"Oh... you don't think... I... what... Mr Mortimer....?

"Frankly, I am quite surprised at the condition they are in after so long. They are still so still so supple", he replied.

"Yes... ouch", she blurted out, "It hurts just thinking about what these things could do..." the conversation taking on a slightly naughty, flirtatious tone. "So you understand about canes then .. Sir...." unaware of how she had just addressed him.

"Well...sort must keep them out of direct sunlight...preferably a cool dry place. Drop by the store some time and I'd be happy to pass on the little I know about cane maintenance", he said.

Swallowing hard she replied "Well, I think the least I could do is offer you some afternoon tea sometime, you know, at my place".

"Oh, its really not necessary, but...yes that would be nice...", he said.

"Shall we say tomorrow at 4 pm ?"


"Hello nice to see you Mr Mortimer. She offered her hand to shake his. Instinctively she smoothed her tight fitting skirt..."um..Please sit down...Sir".

There she goes again with calling me "Sir" he thinks to himself. Through this strange turn of events she had unwittingly cast herself into the role of a naughty schoolgirl, or an errant secretary, and he picked up on the signals.

[meanwhile, the canes lay on the coffee table...]

She disappears into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and he starts to fidget, picking up one or two of the "discussion pieces", flexing them, picking a moment when he thought she might not be in earshot to test a couple of swings through the air...then one on his left trousered thigh. At that moment she walked in holding a exquisite tray filled with tea and cakes.

"Oh...a little target practice Sir"...she giggled in a girlie voice, then as she put the tray down, sticking her bum out sideways, then withdrawing it.

They made small talk. Occasionally his tone would become rather formal and strict...he decided he must make a move...she was certainly interested in this subject and he was about to test just how far their common interest would go. As well, she had the most elegant skirted bottom he had seen in a long time.

"You know, may I call you Joanne?....these rather strange circumstances that have brought us together would not be complete without a practical demonstration of proper caning technique".

SSSwwwwiishhhh...he cuts the air as he rises to his feet.

She gulps " mean, you want to cane me, Mr Mortimer?"

"Well, a very distant second best would be a couple of pillows, if you are not game of course".

"Um....well....would it be hard?"

"I presume you have felt the cane before, Joanne?"

"Frankly, I have Sir", instinctively rubbing her bottom as she recalls back to her school days. "But not as a grown up", she added.

"If I am to cane you, it will be purely symbolic of course, let's say twelve light-ish strokes over your skirt... unless, of course, you are up for something more brisk".

"Oh it sounds wicked Sir, wicked and tempting...."

"Be a sport then, up you get before you chicken out."

She rose cautiously, fumbling with her hands. "Um, how do you want me? Do you want me to get the trestle?"

"Yes Joanne... that's what I presume it's meant for!"

The furniture was rearranged to accommodate the antique mini 'A' frame, they looked nervously at one another.

In for a penny in for a pound she thought..."Tell you what, SIr....if you want, I can take off my skirt and you can show me what a real caning feels like.... if you're obliging."

"You mean you want me to give you a proper caning?"

"Yes... I want that...", she was suddenly full of courage, no turning back now.

"I am happy to oblige your request, however I must warn you, I have a good swing and this may hurt you... a lot".

"Yes... I suppose it will... please do it Sir... cane me hard... on my bare bottom..."


Ted had cause to wonder. Joanne's play, if that was what she indulged in, was a little outside his experience. No spanking build-up over his knee. Handshake to hard, bare bottom caning in one leap! He'd known women, who, over some time, had grown to understand their needs and would take a glass of wine only and no more delay, before they needed to burn under his ministrations.

Joanne had such a light, indeed flippant approach, that either she was torn between exhibiting need for that which she may hardly imagine, or she was an experienced,
very clever, tease. If the latter, she clearly knew the dangers of teasing a man holding a cane, hence the "butterfly" style... perhaps.

"I'm all contemplation and no action today" thought Ted. He put down the cane and took Joanna, quite gently, by both hands.

"Look at me" he said, as she still danced about, "When you were last caned, how old were you, where were you, why, was it on the bare and how many strokes did you receive ?"

"Oh Ted" she almost scolded, "You do go on! You should have asked me for my C.V.!
If you must know, I was just eighteen, but I'm not telling how long ago that was, I was re-sitting examinations at school and had been brought back by the police for rowdy behaviour in a pub. The Head was really furious, having only agreed to the re-sit in school with tuition, when begged to do so by my Mother, with whom she had discussed the options."

"The interview took place in her study, with a cane well in view on the front edge of her desk. I'd heard tales of the "alternative to expulsion" and knew the message was before me. Since mother had also spoken to me, I simply nodded. The Head picked up the cane and motioned me to bend over the low back of a soft upholstered easy chair. She lifted my skirt out of the way, but left me with my panties, despite the stories told of her severity. It was six strokes, Ted. She took her time and I vividly remember each and every one!"

Ted could not help but notice the nature of her answer and how she gripped his hands as she reached the caning. He made a decision, maybe not the best, but a decision.

"Joanne, you shall have your hard bare bottom caning. Perhaps you needed it when you were a teenager. However, I think it best we revisit the scene you described, first. Now, you may remove your skirt only, and I want you over the Frame. Take a cushion if you need it."

Joanna took a cushion and placed herself well, clearly "aware" of her panty clad bottom and how proudly she sought to present it for Ted, as she had since he first arrived.

On his part, Ted felt himself warming to the task and took some time placing himself to suit her position and the cane length.

The customary caress, the aiming touch and Ted then raised the cane for her first stoke... but not too high...


Ted's heart pounded in his chest. He could scarcely believe what was happening. He lowered the cane back across her bending bottom, pressing slightly to create a valley across her cheeks.

He steadied himself and tried to control his breathing. Tap.... Tap.... Tap.... Tap.... His arm raised again.....


Her bottom jerked. He waited, half expecting her to jump up. But Joanna's rump stayed tightly bent across her trestle, her cheeks slowly relaxing as she absorbed the pain....

Joanna's bottom felt the stroke in an all-consuming manner. The first strike had shocked her but she did not even honour it with as much as a murmur. Ted aimed and placed a second harder stroke...


ouch! She wiggled her bottom enticingly then looked over her shoulder and exclaimed "Oh you're good, your hurting me already!"

She settled back into her position, clearly inviting him to continue the caning. Perversely, she wanted this caning, she needed this caning, she wanted him to really hurt her, and she would willingly and lewdly allow him this exquisite right and authority over her.


After the fifteenth stroke Joanna's buttocks felt they were on fire, she had met her match at last.   Joanna was beginning to get aroused even with the immense  pain she felt  from each stroke of the cane.

Ted sssssssshished yet another stroke that made Joanna cry out and from his heavy breathing knew that he was feeling the same.


Joanna couldn't take it any more, she had to blurt out what she had wanted all along, "Pull down my panties, please!" She squealed between strokes.

As Ted reached out both hands and pulled the panties over her bum he could see where her wetness had made them translucent. He pulled them down to her knees, savouring the warm rush of her scent that came up towards his stooped form.


Joanne felt the cool breeze across her bottom despite its heat.

"Ooh, yes, ooh yes! The harder you cane me, the more you love me!" She gasped breathlessly.

Ted look at her firm properly rounded bottom. It was the cutest female bottom he had ever seen and she was already wet!!.

"I'll teach you to mock my strength young lady. After these six you will beg for mercy, and if you're convincing, I will only give you six more!" He said, panting and laughing at the same time.

"Yea, yea, promises, promises" She giggled. But then she heard a swish and .....



The cane fell hard on to her already well stripped posterior.

Joanna looked back at Ted. her giggles temporally lost as the new wave of pain engulfed her. "OUCHEDDDDDD...Oh sir that hurts!" The giggles suddenly return as she realised the stupidity of her statement.


The answer came and suddenly Joanna whole body including her toes seemed engulfed in wave of electrifying pain. But Joanna was not ready to beg for mercy just yet. Indeed she would have begged him to cane her for ever.



Ted continued, he could see her bottom raising up willing him to continue his corrective treatment. Not wanting to disappoint his new found playmate, he gave her the last two strokes.




"One more, please!" Joanne cried, nearly at the edge of a raging orgasm that the caning had wrought.

Behind her, Ted was striving hard to control his own excitement, clearly visible in the impressive tenting of his trouser front.

"My lady's wish is my command," he replied. Before raising the cane, Ted walked around Joanne until his legs were directly visible in her line of vision, and then raised his arm. Joanne had no time to wonder why he had moved before the wicked cane slashed down one last time, landing directly between her candy-cane striped cheeks, its tip disappearing in between.

Mistress Anna

The tip of the cane found its mark, and Joanne felt the sting between her legs which brought tears to her eyes, and a gasp from her lips.

"Aha', so she does feel it at last!", Ted exclaimed.

Joane could wait no longer, and wriggled a hand between her legs, and gasped, "Oo, ooo, ooo!"

"No, now, we can't have that, can we?" Ted's hand intervened from behind, carelessly brushing against her sensitivity and pushing her hand away.

She turned suddenly, kneeling as she did, "Don't stop me", she begged, grasping at his fly.

No sooner had the zip descended, than her hand disappeared beneath the folds of his trousers, returning seconds later, no longer empty.

"Please", her eyes looked pleadingly up at his, and her mouth opened, wide.

"Who am I to refuse a pretty girl", Ted mocked, "but you'll have to pay for this naughtiness you know"

.... but she was gone, he was engulfed, and she was taken away in a sort of rapture of ecstasy, her cheeks bulging at his fullness.


Joanne could feel her wetness beginning to drip hotly down her legs. As soon as she took him in her mouth, the heat and the stinging from her butt heightened her sexuality and with her free hand she dipped her fingers into this nectar and she knew it would not be long before she climaxed.

"Sir" had other ideas. Addressing her sharply, he told her to stop masturbating and concentrate on his pleasure. She reluctantly complied. He climaxed soon after. He ordered her over the trestle again to finish what he had started. The heated radiated from her sunset red arse. He touched her wetness and massaged her bottom and although her bottom was sore, the soothing caresses became pleasurable.

"You are a very naughty lady" he said sternly, "I don't think you have been punished enough!"

With that he landed four really hard smacks on a bottom that had been lulled into a false state of security. Then he told her to remove the cushions from underneath her and he introduced her to his already risen member.

The following entry came in after we closed this story. However, it is too good to leave out. Let's hope Jordan has a go at the new story!!


Ted admired his handiwork as she arched her back, beckoning him to enter her....he thrust first delicately, then roughly, she glanced back over her shoulder as he he began to rhythmically fuck her wiping his come from her lips provocatively then biting her hand from the ecstasy.

"Ooh Sirr! Oh Sirrrr... yes! Thank you sir!" She kissed his cock, then his lips, then in an obedient gesture, she kissed his hand, kissing with the slight wetness of her open mouth.

She disappeared for moment while Ted regained his breath. She reappeared with her hair tied back in a girlish ponytail and wearing a silk robe. Ted began dressing, while they contemplated what had just transpired. A slightly awkward moment passed as he made for the door.

"Ahh," she bit her lip and stared at him shyly, then, "Please keep in touch won't you?"

"Sure", he answered then left. She was so gorgeous he thought to himself. Most men his age would be content with just gawking at such an elegant, gracious woman. Such a fine body, tall, a slim waist, perky breasts and one of the most elegant bottoms he has seen. Her legs were a sight to behold he thought, so skinny yet toned and shapely.

A week had passed and Joanna decided to call her new-found friend. She asked how he was, offered that she had enjoyed their time together immensely and how she would like him to come over again for "high tea".

Ted entered as she opened the door, again formally greeting each other. He took her offered handshake and she held his hand affectionately and slightly longer than is usual -- she kissed it once again with moist lips which broke the tension. Joanna was dressed in crisp white shirt and short business-type skirt. Her hair was well groomed and her face impeccably made-up. As they sat down on the couch and made small talk, Ted drank in her elegance. There was a slight pause.

Ted apologised for getting a little too carried away last time. He had beat her mercilessly and no doubt the marks would have lingered for days. She remarked how she had slept on her stomach that night and was quick to add quite devilishly how she might need some new ones. She seemed upbeat.

"To be quite candid, Sir, you did a fine job at administering that cane. It hurt, tremendously, but, I think I had it coming. Will you be caning me this afternoon?"

Ted was taken slightly aback. "Do you want me to cane you?"

"Um.... well... I do.... but can we do it on the bed this time?"


"Um... I mean I could lie face down on the bed, could you cane me that way?"

"Er... yes, I'd like that," he replied.

She took his hand warmly, and escorted him to her bedroom. Her bedroom was exquisitely decorated. He looked around as she gathered up two pillows and placed them neatly in the middle. She took his jacket then went to her cupboard to retrieve a suitable cane. She found a very long and thin cane and tested twice through the air before offering it to Ted.

"Is this alright, Sir?"

"Yes Joanna," he flexed it and tested its weight, "this will be very satisfactory for a naughty woman like you."

She smiled. "Brandy Sir?"

He simply nodded. She decanted a brandy then handed it to him. She reached back for the zipper on her tight fitting skirt, turning to him, he offered to assist. She slipped the skirt down her shapely legs. She work stay-up dark stockings and black sheer panties. Next she undid the buttons on her shirt, slipped it off her shoulders to reveal a matching bra.

Meanwhile Ted was rolling up his right sleeve, preparing to once again wield the cane. He was very pleased to have such a willing, amiable recipient.

She undid the clasp on her hair and let it fall across her shoulders. She kept her high heeled shoes on this time. He motioned for the bed will his cane as she gave him a smile then placed her hips squarely over the cushions.

"I've been bad, Sir. Please be hard......."