The Secret Life of Cindy Marks
It had always seemed to Rachel that her friend Cindy had a secret. In her wildest imaginings she fancied she knew what it was, but that seemed hardly likely to her, given her wildest imaginings were… well too wild.
Rachel sat back to consider whether or not her imagination had completely overcome her sense of reason.
Cindy was often unavailable to meet at the weekends and when she returned from wherever it was she went she seemed… well different. Rachel formed her pert full lips into a kiss as she drew upon the straw of her milkshake as she thought about it.
For anyone watching Rachel as she sat in the café, they might have been struck by the contrast of a smart blonde with long tight pinned-up hair dressed in a sharp grey business suit sucking a child’s drink in such a carefree manner. Not that Rachel cared, this time she was determined to find out about the secret life of Cindy Marks.
Rachel had been sitting in the café for over an hour when Cindy strolled past. Rachel was surprised to see that her friend was dressed in a clinging black evening dress with her hair piled up under a matching fascinator. It was after work to be sure, but the sun was still shining and the afternoon had not yet fled.
Rachel waited until Cindy had got far enough ahead before abandoning her milkshake and setting off in pursuit.
They hadn’t gone very far when a black smoked-windowed car pulled up beside Cindy and the door opened to let her in.
“Damn,” Rachel groaned as the car moved away leaving her standing on the pavement.
Just then a black cab pulled up to let its passenger out, an old woman who seemed to have trouble finding the right money.
“Excuse me,” Rachel called out squeezing past the woman and getting in the back of the cab, “I am in a hurry, put her bloody fare onto mine will you.”
“Eh… yeah sure love,” the cabby said a little flustered, “Where to?”
“Follow that car.” Rachel had always wanted to say that.
*
Rachel followed Cindy to a large Georgian red brick house out of town. It wasn’t as far as it might have been, but the fare all but emptied Rachel’s purse.
“Do you want me to wait love?” The cabby asked.
Rachel glanced at her last tenner and shook her head. She doubted if she even had enough for the bus, let alone another cab ride.
“Righto,” the cabby said with a cheery wave, although he sounded disappointed.
Then he drove away leaving Rachel alone.
By the time Rachel had worked her way around the side of the house, there was no one in sight. The side door was of hard black panels and may have been an original feature of the 200-year-old house.
“Okay, well I’ve come this far so onwards and upwards,” she said aloud as she moved forward to try the door.
The house was well-preserved and smelt of money, although the crunch of gravel under foot was loud enough to bring the occupants running out, or so it seemed. The door was locked.
It took several minutes to find another door around the back and this time she had better luck.
What am I doing here? She thought, but she was undeterred nonetheless and stepped inside. Somewhere behind her in the garden a crow sounded a warning; a cawing laugh of a creature who perhaps knew something she didn’t.
The room was wood-panelled with a floral red carpet, rather like one her mother had, although she rather suspected her mother’s was a factory-made copy of this one. As she stepped onto it she smelt roses, although it proved to be coming from a vase and not the weave at her feet. She stifled a giggle. Scent activated carpets, perhaps I could market it. Then she heard voices and she swallowed her breath a hush on her lips.
The sound was coming from a room across the hall from the one she had entered. The hallway was high and also dressed in wood panels, but the floor was tiled in brown and white that clacked under her feet as she stepped upon it. Damn these shoes, she thought as she stepped out of them and tip-toed in her stockinged feet across the hall to listen at the door.
“Now Cindy,” a deep but well-spoken man was saying, “I hear that you haven’t been a good girl.”
“No sir,” Cindy lisped, she sounded younger than usual, almost childish.
“I see, and what do you think I should do about that?” The man continued from beyond the door.
“I don’t know sir,” Cindy said quietly.
Rachel pressed her ear to the door so as not to miss anything.
“What did I do last time?” The man asked.
There was no reply to this question and Rachel wondered if she had missed it.
“Well?” The man barked out.
Rachel could almost feel Cindy jump.
“You… you… spanked me,” Cindy replied, her voice drenched in reluctance.
Rachel’s heart leapt and she went light-headed. The s-word; it might have been just dragged from her own head.
“And?” The man said more gently.
“And I was… caned… sir.”
“What did I say would happen next time?”
“You… you… you said… you said…” Rachel imagined Cindy dragging her toe along the ground like a school girl.
“I am waiting Cindy Marks.” The man sounded angry again.
Inside the room Cindy took a deep breath and dropped her chin onto her chest.
“You said… it would be worse next time,” she finally managed.
“And is that what you deserve?” The man asked; his voice firm.
Cindy didn’t reply. Rachel imagined that she had merely nodded this time because the man added: “Very well. Remove your dress.”
Rachel couldn’t bear the suspense. There was no more talk and the sounds she heard through the door were not very revealing. Then just as she was about to despair there was a sharp splat.
It is really happening, she thought. All those years lying in my bed yearning and think that it could never happen and here is… another sharp spank cut her thoughts short. The sound was definitely flesh on flesh. Rachel hugged herself in delight.
The spanking lasted for several long minutes until Rachel thought it must end, although praying that it wouldn’t. Then she heard a muffled cry from Cindy. More like a choking sound or a grunt. Even through the door Rachel could hear Cindy’s breath becoming ragged until finally there were girlish wails and her friend broke down in open crying.
“Alright, now go to the corner,” the man said in a hard voice.
“Yes sir,” Cindy replied in a tear-filled voice.
There was a sound of someone moving across the room. He’s putting her in the corner like… Rachel wondered if she would faint. She just had to see.
Looking frantically around, she saw that above the door was a skylight; one of the old-fashioned dropdown ones, although it wasn’t open it was large enough to see in if she could only reach it. Further up the hall was a chair, which was light enough to move quietly. Her footsteps were silent beneath her, so she lifted the chair in slow painful moves and tip-toed with it back to the door.
Even standing on the chair she had to stand on her toes to peer in and at first even this did not suffice. Then looking left she saw Cindy. She was dressed only in her stockings and bra. Her hair was now in disarray and her bottom was a startling red. Oh my, Rachel thought.
The man was a little above 40, but still handsome and well-dressed. From Rachel’s vantage he looked tall and well-built and like Cindy had been, he was wearing evening dress. All of this served to make him look stern, like the lord of some ancient castle. The image was completed by the fact that he now stood across the room, a library or a study of some kind she now realised, and he was looking at a rack of canes.
It was just like the one from her fantasies.
Rachel was suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily and had to steady herself by leaning on the glass.
“Alright my girl, bend over that desk,” the man growled suddenly, taking up a cane.
“Yes sir,” Cindy said meekly.
As her friend turned around, Rachel was shocked to see the stark black triangle of her sex. Seeing her naked before this man pounded in her head.
Cindy crossed the room with small reluctant steps and sensuously leaned across the desk.
“Put your bottom up and out,” the man commanded her.
Rachel craned her neck to watch Cindy obey, the door creaking a little as she did so. The posture was obscene.
The first stroke was a shock. It came suddenly and drew a sharp line of white across Cindy’s tight red bottom. Both girls yelped in tandem.
Rachel clapped her hand to her mouth and dropped down. Time hung on end. Had she been heard?
She didn’t see the second stroke, which cut Cindy’s bottom leaving a defined plum ridge under the first. Rachel saw the mark when she bobbed up again to strain over the top edge of the door.
There were six more strokes, before Cindy spluttered to sobs.
By this time Rachel was damp all over and panting almost as much as Cindy. Her calves ached from standing on tiptoe and she had to keep dropping down.
“Please sir,” Cindy said in a wet cracked voice.
“Hush now and push that bottom out,” the man said sternly.
Rachel stood up again, stretching herself to her full height, she couldn’t miss a stroke; she just couldn’t. Then something gave and the door swung in. Rachel tumbled carelessly through the door and onto the floor.
“Rachel,” Cindy exclaimed.
“You know this girl,” the man accused.
Cindy nodded. She was blushing every bit as much as Rachel.
“You’ll pay for this lapse,” the man growled at Cindy.
“Please sir it was my fault, I’m sorry,” Rachel squeaked as she got to her feet.
“This is a private matter, so unless you want some of the same, I suggest you leave,” the man said indignantly.
Rachel gaped and then closed her mouth to bite her lower lip. The man was frowning at her. Then slowly Rachel nodded.
The man folded his arms and studied Rachel with his head cocked to one side. Then he looked to Cindy and offered her a nod, following it with a significant glance at the corner.
Cindy pouted as she took his meaning and rubbing her well-scored bottom got up and went reluctantly to the corner.
The man paid her no mind as he removed his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.
“Come here,” he said beckoning to Rachel.
“Yes sir,” Rachel lisped as she heard Cindy doing a short time before.
Her hands strayed to her pencil skirt-encased bottom and fondled it as if fixing its current state in her mind.
“I am going to spank you before I finish Cindy’s caning and then it will be your turn. Do you understand?” His voice was hard and dark, his eyes held and she thought he looked kind and cross at one and the same time.
“Yes sir,” she whispered.
Ends.
Filed under: DJB stories, M/F | 6 Comments
Tags: caning, corner time, OTK, spanking, the cane
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Spanking, spanking stories and spanking articles for adults
This blog is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented here are intended for adults. Nothing here should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
All characters appearing in short stories on this blog are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This blog aims to explore themes of erotic discipline, female submission and spanking. It features stories, anecdotes and observations by DJB and others.
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Damian,
very nice, I wonder how many of us have imagined a scenario such as this. 😀
I’m grateful that your writing skills can bring it nearer to life.
Paul.
Fantastic!
However did I miss this one? I think this story makes me a little nervous…it feels a bit close to something that could be true. 🙂
Paul many have imagined it? Well Scarlet for one. Annelies is obviously busy living it. 😉
Thanks. 🙂
I don’t think I have ever seen a more perfect bottom to spank thanthe one in the picture at the top of this story. I,ve seen it,the picture not the bottom (I only wish) before and always admired it.
Thank you.