My first year on a tough science degree course had ended. My year in a hall of residence finished, and I looked for accommodation for the next year. I found a landlady with a room to rent within reach of the college. She said on the phone that I sounded like the lodger she sought.

"Please, come for a face-to-face."

When I arrived, the sophistication and beauty of the (I guessed) mid-forties lady were delightful. I was almost twenty. I tried to hide the inevitable boner.

Angela was married, but her husband was in the US pursuing his dreams in his corner of the world of the arts. A rich relative in his will had left the lovely house for her. I thought she and the hubby coexisted and cohabited only when necessary. She was tall for a lady, with a classical figure. Her car was outside.

"Can you fix cars?"

"Yes, my father taught me how to do routine maintenance and more besides. I could keep yours on the road. With a hoist, I could do an engine change."

This may have influenced her to accept me as a lodger! Although well-known in parts of the media and art worlds, she was not a household name. Occupied with an incredibly demanding course, I couldn't afford the time or spare the brain cells to pursue a girlfriend's whims.

Angela presented me, I hoped, with an opportunity to enjoy the memorable experience of an attractive older lady. My sexual performance might exceed that of an older man. I was as priapic as the figure on the old 'Punch' magazine frieze. Once I had moved in, I settled down and waited. With luck, the chance to satisfy my urges would arrive.

After my studies took the lion's share, I was left with little 'me' time. Living with this lady would compensate for the sometimes immature and vacuous student life. Attractive older women often know what they want, and as I had twice found, they achieved their desires.

On a Friday evening, and out of cash, I was back by about nine pm. Angela was there in figure-hugging slacks and a lacy top. Why was she dressed like that? Had she been out, in which case, why was she home early? Was she clairvoyant?

"Peter, it's good you are back early. Tomorrow, please can you prepare my car for winter with fresh antifreeze and an oil change? I've got the stuff required from a list in the manual."

"Sure, my pleasure."

She looked ravishing and wore a fragrant perfume.

"I will open a bottle of wine, and we can relax. It's overdue to get to know each other. We are both so busy."

Her choice was a French white wine, two glasses of which hit the spot after a couple of beers at the uni bar.

"Angelia, this is so kind of you, and you always look wonderful, but tonight, you look like an angel floating about."

"Peter, I am not fishing for compliments! Come on!"

I found myself in her bedroom in a clinch with her.

"Get naked and take a shower in the en-suite."

As an unsophisticated student, I said, "Let me find a condom."

"No need. I've had an implant. It makes things easier, and I don't have to worry (pre-HIV days)."

I took a shower. Within a few seconds, Angela joined me.

"Peter, help me shower, please."

She soaped herself, grabbed my hand, and put it on her pussy.

"Please, can you help me wash my little sister?"

Her clitoris was erect, and she shook as I fondled it. I put a finger in her vagina and gave it a gentle wash with the shower head, and she had her first orgasm, to the accompaniment of moans of pleasure. My education improved by the minute! There was this wonderful smell of her perfume and the natural scent of her juices. What was her husband missing?

"Wash my ass for me,"

A finger in her asshole brought her back onto cloud nine! This was a first for me!

We dried, and with Angela in my arms, we French kissed as I held her to me and fondled her bottom. We found ourselves on the bed, and Angela stretched out, legs apart, with one knee raised. It was the first time I had seen a naked lady display herself with no shyness. She was a natural blonde, with the pubic and perineum areas the same colour as the rest of her body.

Her breasts were still firm with stiff nipples like brown bullets, and I fondled them. She opened her legs, took my hand and placed it on her moist pussy. With her other hand, she took hold of my rigid penis.

"Peter, please, go down on me."

"Lie down with your legs apart, please."

Angela obeyed, and I kissed her clitoris.

"Put a finger in my vagina and feel the front wall, please. It's my G spot."

I had limited experience with female anatomy and had not heard of the G spot until then. My efforts drove Angela into seventh heaven. Her vagina responded by squeezing my finger and her clitoris was throbbing, while she cried out in pleasure.

"Stop, stop, it's too powerful, naughty boy! Screw me, please."

Just in time, before I suffered a hair trigger, I entered her to enjoy the strength of her vaginal wall muscles.

Within half a minute, I exploded, and my orgasm seemed to carry on for an age. I had known nothing like it with other girls (only with two mature ladies), and it bore no comparison with the fumbles at night in tents and under seaside piers. The effect of her attraction, physical and mental, was enormous, and I remained hard within her for as long as I could.

We lay there in post-coital bliss. "Naughty boy. You were banging on my cervix. Your endowment is one of the best I have experienced!"

Should I go running wearing tighter shorts? They say it pays to advertise. Possibly I could attract more admirers of my trouser snake!

"That's so kind of you. It's easy when I'm with someone so close to perfection. My lack of experience wasn't a problem?"

"No, your slightly rough approach is a stimulus in itself."

"I'm sorry. Please, in what way was I rough?"

"When you entered me, it was like being impaled on a flagpole, but in its way, it was erotic. The next time, please, open my pussy and come in steadily, a little at a time. My G spot will benefit as you repeatedly stimulate it."

"I'm a naughty girl. A big attraction for me is that our being found out is unlikely. In my working world and related social environment, if I took a step aside, someone would know, and soon, everyone would know. I don't want that, so please, no boasting about it at college. If I ever have a social gathering here, don't show your face unless you arrive while it's going on, when you would say 'Hello' and disappear to your room."

"Thank you. I will take care not to compromise you."

"Good. I'm pleased you said that because there will be 'next time.' We can broaden our activities. I thought you were an innocent young man, but your lack of inhibitions suggests otherwise! When my uncle left me this place, he put in his will that I alone was allowed to open a certain cupboard and review its contents. Once I had done so, I told the executor what I had found. He went along with this."

"Err, what did you find?"

"There was a collection of vintage pornography which was mainly artistic, but of 'sadism and domination' content, and a few 'sex aids,' such as some spanking canes, a dressage whip, paddles, and two martinets, which may have come from France. I told the executor a version of this. He was old enough to be my father, which put me at a huge advantage in the situation. He asked in a diffident manner if the literature had value, but how could I know? So I locked the cupboard without him seeing the contents and looked embarrassed. He did not 'push' me to do anything and gave me time to come to terms with it."

"Because I was the beneficiary in the will, I had a key to the house even before probate. With a Polaroid camera, I photographed each item of the vintage literature to show to the porn guy in Soho. I didn't want to keep the vintage literature, which weighed eleven kilos, but I kept the 'sex aids.' The porn shop guy asked to go see the literature and told me it was rare, of excellent condition, and gave me £400 for it! Uncle may have imported it 'quietly' because it was mainly in French! It would need to be sold discreetly on the pornography black market. I kept some modern, mass-produced stuff to read because I found it relevant to my situation."

"The executor asked what I had done with the literature, so I told him I had burned it because I was ashamed and didn't want the family to know. He bought the story, but I'm sure he knew I had pulled a fast one. But how could he prove it?"

"I asked at the porn shop, which also sold sex aids, what to do with the old canes. They said they needed to be oiled and advised me to soak them in linseed oil for at least a month. I found a long metal tray and soaked the canes in the loft in the warm weather. I keep them and the dressage whip in the loft in PVC tubes wrapped in cloth. I hid the other items in a locked suitcase. I succeeded in hiding everything from the executor and my husband."

"But why did you keep the canes, etc?"

"I was thirteen when the war broke out. Father was away fighting, and I got out of hand when I was eighteen. My mother did not know what to do. I didn't know this at first, but at my father's insistence, my mother organised the stable master to deal with me. He was at the livery stables where we had kept horses before the war. Father had written a letter to him with instructions about my discipline, and the censors had let it through! Those were different times."

"Mother sent me to the livery stables on my bicycle and told me to report to the stable master. He locked the door and showed me my father's letter, instructing him to give me 'six of the best' with a medium cane on my knickers, bent over his desk. Father asked him not to spare me! There it was in the letter, and it shocked me, but I agreed, because deep down, I knew I deserved it."

"Bent over his desk with my skirt up, he gave me six terrible strokes of the cane on my knickers. I put my hands back to rub, and he said, "I didn't permit you to rub. Get your hands away, and I will give you two more. You don't rub until I permit you!"

"I was in floods of tears and rode home with my flaming bum in contact with the bicycle saddle. At home, Mother demanded to see my cane marks and said, 'It served you right, you wicked girl. You had to be beaten like an animal. I'm ashamed of you.' After that, I behaved."

"In bed later that night, my reaction to my caning gave me the strongest sexual feelings I had known up to that time. I have always wanted to receive another caning since then. It embarrassed me to be caned by a man. At the time, I believed that if I had been caned by my mother or another woman, it might not have bothered me so much."

"My fantasy developed over the years, partly influenced by reading Uncle's pornography, has been to have a caning session with a man with whom I was in a relationship! Caning each other would be a part of sex. We have done the first part and know we are sexually compatible. Why don't we go the whole nine yards one day soon? Peter, you have a lovely muscular bottom and great thighs. Have you ever received a caning, please?"

An older lady with whom I was still having a limited affair involved mutual caning. It was uncanny that it was happening again! Was it something about me?

"Yes, I have. An older lady who was a friend of the family caned me. They didn't use the cane at my school or at home. She thought the stimulus would be good for me, and I accepted a hard caning from her. It was a turn-on for her once she had assured herself I could take a hard caning. The lady would take canings only from men who were not sadistic wimps and had received a caning from her. I soon realised she was a switch and loved doing it 'both ways.' Our first switching experience turned into a full-blown affair, which we kept quiet. Since that affair, I have fantasised about doing it again. Would you allow me to give you a caning?"

I didn't tell Angela I still saw the lady whenever I could, usually during the uni breaks. It had been nine weeks since our last meeting, so the marks on my bum had faded. She had visited London once, on a credible pretext, and we had met at her hotel.

"Peter, I must explain my fantasy in more detail. Amazingly, it mirrors your experience with your 'instructress’. I have had to put my fantasy aside for almost thirty years, but I will not receive a caning from a wimp who can't take a hard caning. How do you feel about receiving a caning from me to start things off?”

"Yes, 'here we are again'! But are you sure you will benefit?"

"If my memory and feelings are a guide, yes, I can bring myself to orgasm if I fantasise about caning a virile man. I had orgasms the evening after my caning, which matched the best I have ever had, and I'm sure my recall is accurate."

"You say that your only caning experience so far was good. Are you sure about your reaction this time?"

"I'm sure I know how I will react. Joan liked to do it before sex. Her canings were a tremendous stimulus, despite the pain. Within minutes of the finish of my caning, I had an iron bar of an erection, and the orgasms were amazing!"

"Tomorrow, you are preparing my car for the winter. Will that take two hours?"

"No, I should do it in less than that."

"Why don't we do it as soon as you finish the work on the car? I can get supper ready later. Sex is no good on a full stomach."

"Just one question. How long did the pain last after your first caning? You need to think of that if you have to go to work on Monday."

"The immediate pain of each stroke decreased within ten minutes, and the soreness decreased after a few hours, but not in time for my bicycle ride home. It hurt slightly to sit the next day, but it was not as bad as people make it out to be. If we do it tomorrow afternoon, I should be OK by Monday morning, and you will be fine at college. The marks may last two to three weeks, depending on how hard we do it, so be ready for that."

"Peter, stay with me tonight, please."

That was an easy one! In the morning, we had breakfast, and Angela handed me a Mars bar before I started work on her car.

"Why the Mars bar?"

"Please, eat it while you work on the car to increase your blood sugar level for the fun to come!"

I got ahead with the car and finished sooner than I had thought. Angela had not changed out of her night attire and was waiting for me. The canes were on a dry cloth on a chair by the bed. I got ready in her en-suite and came to her with a bath towel wrapped around me.

"I would give you a blowjob, but I don't want to waste your energies. Lie on the bed."

She took my rigid penis in her hand and stroked it, massaging my balls with her other hand. The experience was so erotic with her naked breasts in front of me, and looking at her golden pubes. Angela carried on, stroking my penis and massaging my balls.

"Your caning will go well if you are in a state of arousal. Keep your orgasm for later!"

"Peter, I'm going to cane you first and give you six of the best with the medium cane. At their completion, I hope you will recover and decide if you can take another six strokes because I believe a grown man should be capable of taking 'twelve of the best.' Get up. Stand facing the foot of the bed and bend over, putting your head and shoulders on the bed. It will tighten the skin of your bottom and upper thighs, and increase their sensitivity to the cane."

I did as instructed, legs about two feet apart. Angela tapped my bottom with the cane.

'Whistle CRACK.' The impact did not hurt for about two seconds, and then the agonising impact seared through me. Instantly, it reminded me why the cane was such a powerful instrument of discipline. It was harder than my other lady friend's canings. She waited about thirty seconds and, 'Whistle CRACK.'

The pain built, and I did my best to take it in the manner I'm sure Angela expected of me.

'Whistle CRACK.' I endured it. Only three more to go before I could rub my flaming arse!

'Whistle CRACK.' I yelped for the first time. Could I take a second set of six strokes?

'Whistle CRACK.' Despite the pain, my libido was increasing. My penis stood erect, and I knew the onslaught was stimulating me.

'Whistle CRACK.' Stroke number six!

"Brave lad! Stand up and rub your striped rump!"

With a sigh of relief, I rubbed hard at my flayed bum, which was burning and twitching without input from me.

"Please, give me a few minutes and I'm sure I can take another six strokes."

I sensed that my ability to take Angela's canings would be a critical factor in our relationship, which I wanted to last, not only because of its comfort and convenience but because I liked her as a person. The availability of excellent sex outweighed the pain of the caning!

"I'm ready."

With me back in position at the end of the bed, Angela tapped my bottom again.

"Do you want them the same as the first six strokes with a break between strokes, or do you want them in quick time, with only the time I take to aim each stroke?"

Why not get it over with?

"In quick time, please?"

I had learned it hurt marginally less if I didn't tense my bottom muscles between strokes, so I tried to relax and 'think of something else.' 'Whistle CRACK,' 'Whistle CRACK,' 'Whistle CRACK,' 'Whistle CRACK,' 'Whistle CRACK,' 'Whistle CRACK.'

It had been over fast, but it was agonising. It drove thoughts of anything apart from the awful pain out of my mind. I took deep breaths to replace the oxygen I missed during the battering. My erection had drooped during the caning.

Angela took me in her arms, kissed me, and felt my blazing rump.

"You brave boy. It's the first time I caned anyone, and I wondered if I was overdoing it."

What could I say? I was grateful to have shown her that I could stand severe pain.

"How do you feel after caning me?"

"I feel fantastic! I was so close to orgasm!"

She put my hand on her dripping pussy!

"Peter, I know this is so naughty. I placed those twelve strokes on your upper curves, across the 'fat' part of your bottom. If you would let me carry on with the thin cane, giving you lighter strokes on the lower part of your bottom close to the crease, I will have an orgasm. If you can stand it, I would be so grateful."

Who was holding the baited hook? She wanted an orgasm (so did I), and I wanted to maintain the status quo. A fine balance!

"OK, but please, go easy for the next set of cane strokes."

"You have shown me you are a man. In the future, unless you need discipline, if I give you a caning, it will be erotic and not 'punishment.' I will show you the difference with the thin cane."

Back in position, Angela tapped my bottom with the thin cane. While we had been talking, the awful pain in my bum had decreased, to my surprise.

Whistle 'crack.' The whistling sound was at a lower pitch, and the crack of the cane on my bottom was quieter. The sting felt different, but it would take a few moments before its effect would become clear.

These lighter strokes carried on. Angela was caning each side of my bottom close to the crease at a time, left, then right. After twelve of these, I stood up. These lighter strokes were indeed erotic, and my erection was harder than ever. Whilst bent over, I looked around to enjoy the erotic sight of the naked Angela brandishing the cane and about to beat me with it!

"How did you know about the effect of the thin cane on my crease area?"

"I read about it in the porn I found and never forgot it."

"It feels so different from the hard strokes across the middle of my bottom."

"Peter, sit on the loo and see how your bottom feels."

So I sat on the loo. Sitting on the heavy marks was very painful, but if I leaned forward and my weight came on the marks in the crease area, it made me feel horny! This must be what Angela wanted me to experience! I rinsed my cane marks with warm water in the shower, and the pain decreased further. In the bedroom, Angela was lying on the bed.

"Go down on me before caning me, please."

She was dripping and close to orgasm before I started. With her on hands and knees on the bed, I fingered her G spot while I kissed and nibbled her clitoris. I rubbed her bum.

"This is going to be so sore in a few moments."

"I can't wait."

Angela giving me a thrashing had done this to her. What would be her reaction when she was on the receiving end? Once I had brought her to orgasm at least three times, she bent over the end of the bed, bottom up, and her skin tightened.

"Please, I don't think I can cope with the medium cane right now. Will you give me six strokes with the thin cane first?"

Bad girl! She had been happy to beat the daylights out of me!

"OK, as you wish! Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Tap-tap whistle 'crack,' Angela received her first cane stroke after many years! It was low down on her right bottom cheek.

"Ouch. I had forgotten what it was like."

"It was a light stroke from the thin cane. Please, how does it feel?"

"It stung a little, but it's fine. I must take more before I will know how I feel."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Tap-tap whistle 'crack,' "Aaaah."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Tap-tap whistle 'crack,' silence. Angela was getting used to it. The first three strokes left red lines on her bottom, which she would feel for a while, and fade in four or five days. I hoped they would provide a memorable sensation when she sat on them. It was time to change gear.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Tap-tap whistle 'CRACK,' "Ow, ow."

Angela danced about but did not put a hand back to rub. The next three strokes would be on her lower left cheek.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Tap-tap whistle 'CRACK,' "Bad boy, it stings."

"It's meant to sting. Here comes stroke number six. How hard would you like it, please?"

Angela looked at me.

"After what I did to you, give it to me very hard."

Tap-tap whistle 'CRACK,'

"The last time I received the cane, it was eight strokes, so please give me two more, just as hard, and rapidly."

Tap-tap whistle 'CRACK,' Tap-tap whistle 'CRACK.'

Angela jumped up, rubbing at her striped buttocks, and ran into her en-suite, sitting on the loo.

"They feel wonderful. When I sit on them, it hurts, but it stimulates me so much. My pussy is going wild."

She got up, rinsed her stripes in the shower, dried, stood by the side of the bed, and bent over.

"Screw me doggy fashion, please. Let the front of your thighs rub against my stripes."

My raging erection would satisfy her, I was sure! Remembering my sexual manners, I eased myself into her until I was rubbing against her bottom. Each time I made contact, Angela squealed!

"It's wonderful, it's so erotic! Please, give me six more cane strokes with the thin cane in the same area. This time, do them fast and get back inside my pussy. If you screw me seconds after my caning, I will know what my little sister thinks of it!"

I started Angela's second set of cane strokes just in time before I climaxed and gave her six cane strokes fast across the area close to the crease. She yelled after each stroke because I had increased the force without being asked! This time, I eased my penis into her and gave her a hard screwing doggy fashion, rubbing my thighs against her cane marks, trying not to collide with her cervix.

Angelia had never been so vocal during sex! For the sake of her enjoyment, I kept hard within her for as long as I could sustain until my groin ached. I withdrew, and she collapsed onto the bed, rubbing her bottom. She lay on her tummy, so I took liberties and eased her bottom cheeks apart to see if her little sister was still in motion, and it was!

"Would you like me to pleasure your little sister, please?"

"Yes, please, but I will ask you to stop if I think I might shake to pieces."

So I lifted her hips and got her up onto her knees, fingered her G spot and kissed her mobile clitoris!

"That's enough, please!"

Angela collapsed back onto the bed.

"Come and lie with me."

I lay beside her, and we clung to each other.

"Peter, I have been a bad girl. I caned you so hard to see if you could take it, and to satisfy my personal and perhaps perverse cravings. You did not ask me to receive strokes of the medium cane, but I deserve and must have a few, or I can't live with myself. Tonight, you took care of my selfish desires. We had amazing sex, but I will feel so guilty if I don't take a few strokes of the medium cane."

Angela got up and bent over the foot of the bed.

"Try three time-spaced strokes of the medium cane first, please."

"Be careful about what you wish for. Are you sure, please?"

"Yes."

I rested the cane against the middle of her bottom and drew it back. Whistle 'CRACK.'

Angela made her acquaintance with the thicker rod of correction and yelped, writhing under the stinging pain, 'Ow, ow.' I waited for her to calm herself and repeated the action, giving her time to recover. Her reaction was identical, and I took that as a sign that she could handle it, despite the pain. I gave her a third cane stroke.

After she settled, I said, "Angela, that's enough. You know what it is like, and that's what matters. I suggested three strokes, and you have taken them well. You have done nothing to deserve it. Let's stop now, please."

"OK, please, screw me. I feel so horny."

Angela was soaking and her pussy was in spasm. She yelled out loud in pleasure as I screwed her doggy fashion. The three marks from the rod of correction had formed hard, hot ridges, and she was the most active she had ever been during sex. The cane had done its work!

"Peter, you have reminded me of past times, but I won't request the medium cane unless I deserve it, or have perverse feelings about it."

Angela looked at her bottom in the mirror.

"I will have the marks from it for at least two, and perhaps three, weeks."

In bed, Angela was stroking my penis and fondling my balls.

"Peter, next week we may have to use my en-suite for two days unless the plumber can complete the work in the main bathroom in one day."

"What will he do in the bathroom?"

"I'm having a bidet fitted because I have wanted one for ages, and with you here, it has provided more cash and tipped me over the decision point. The porn that my uncle left described the fun a girl can have with a bidet. I tried it once in France and recall the experience. I will let you watch and perhaps, help me out! It will be highly erotic."

"I should still be sore from tonight's activities, and I can't wait to see what it feels like to sit on the bidet with a sore bottom and play with the water on my clitoris. The porn talked about amazing feelings! If I'm not sore, you must cane me again."

"Sure. I would never have guessed if you hadn't told me!"

The plumber fitted the bidet the following week, and Angela, who was not prudish, showed me how she used it to clean up.

"Now help me have fun."

She directed the water flow onto her vulva, and I could see the effect it had on her.

"Please, play with my garden as the water flows."

Her clitoris was erect and throbbing. With the warm water running, I gently played with it. I could feel and hear her orgasm!

"That's wonderful. I read in one of those porn magazines that playing on the bidet after a spanking or caning is a highly erotic experience. The article said to sit on the bidet immediately after the caning when your bottom is stinging like crazy, whilst painful, was a highly erotic thing to do. Please, can we try it?"

"Sure, why not?"

Unusually, Angela made no move to cane me first. She turned off the taps, dried herself and faced the bidet, bent over and grasping its rim.

"The cane is in the bathroom cupboard. It's the medium one, and please give me twelve good stingers. I'm ready. No, wait, I'm going to turn on the taps again so when I sit on the bidet, the stimulus of the water running on my parts will be immediate. I won't have to endure the pain of sitting on my striped rump while I turn them on."

Angela turned on the taps and took hold of the bidet rim.

"Ready."

I gave her twelve moderately hard stingers well-spaced across her bottom, taking care to cane down to the crease. Angela gave little yelps with increasing volume as her caning progressed, counting out the number after each stroke. On completion of her caning, she quickly sat on the bidet, going "Ouch, Ouch," until the effect of the water on her clitoris and labia had its effect, whereupon orgasmic groans replaced the anguished noises. I helped her pleasure herself, and it must have gone on for at least ten minutes.

She turned off the taps, dried herself and said, "You owe me a good seeing-to, you bad boy."

We had an amazing session with me screwing her in doggy fashion as she bent over the bed, head down and bottom up.

"I feel so horny when you rub on the cane marks."

Eventually, we collapsed on the bed, looking into each other's eyes.

"Peter, I must tell you something. A twenty-something French girl from our Paris outfit is spending six months in the London office. She's sharing a flat with a friend and is looking for company, but is careful in the office. Her living arrangements restrict her activities. One evening, I took her for a meal and a drink. Walking back by the river and later here, she admitted she likes kink and is aware of the risks of mixing with unknown people who have similar interests."

"I'm not possessive and I can 'share' and maybe we could one day make a 'threesome.' If you get on with her, you can enjoy time with her back here. I can invite her and see how it goes. She knows about you, and I have let on that kink is on the menu! What do you think?"

I was initially speechless!

"Are you sure, and you don't mind? It's so thoughtful of you and more than I can hope for! Is she nice?"

"Yes, I think so. She's shorter than me, has a lovely figure and has a Mediterranean look. I know she likes 'spanking,' because she has told me she misses it these days. A lover in France spanked her, but they split up when she found he was hopelessly unfaithful. She doesn't miss him, but she misses the spanking. I've told her we like it and understand the need for discretion for both our sakes. The office must know nothing. Whatever we do here stays here."

"Angela, it's so kind of you! When do you plan for us to meet? I'm assuming that's what you have in mind?"

"Next Friday evening. Her mind will be on sex, not food. I'm planning to take her for a light lunch on Friday so that a full stomach won't reduce her sexual appetite! When you meet her, don't rush things but follow her lead. I think she misses sex and spanking very much, and if she likes you, she will make it clear and won't waste time."

The Friday evening came, and Monique arrived at 8 pm. Angela introduced us and disappeared. Monique was a stunning beauty. Whoever had been her lover in France was extremely silly to let her slip through his fingers! Getting to know Monique beyond the confines of the house was my preferred line of advance, and I suggested we visit a nearby wine bar. I had just done more work on Angela's car, and she had slipped me some cash, so I was in a better financial state!

She wasn't hungry, but we enjoyed two glasses of St Emilion in the wine bar. Her pent-up desires were clear to see!

"Angela is so generous to allow me to stay overnight."

What a delicate way to state her position. We drank up and went back. After a quick cuddle on the couch, we went to my bedroom. There was a bathrobe and towels for Monique. I showed her the bathroom, and she used it first.

Monique was very lusty and possibly a sex maniac in civilised disguise! She knew exactly what she wanted and pursued it by the most direct route. We did the usual amount of visually and physically devouring each other. Soon, she lay on the bed, legs apart and knees up. She had grabbed a towel and spread it under her bottom.

"Peter, I took a good shower. Please go down on me and finger my G spot before we do anything else."

"Sure, I love giving oral." (I do).

It only took a few seconds before Monique had a tremendous orgasm, digging her nails into my shoulders.

After a few minutes, she said, "That's enough! You are so good at it! She told me you are 'kinky' and I believe it is 'spanking'?"

"Yes, that's right. I believe you are interested in it too?"

She smiled and said, "Dear Angela, I thought I could believe in her. Could you fetch my bag, please?"

Monique had been carrying a pop art shoulder bag. I handed it to her, and she delved inside, producing what looked like cords attached to a wooden handle. The cords were about a foot long.

"Do you know what this is? It’s called a martinet. We sell them in France in pet shops. They say they are for whipping a dog. Who could believe that? They sell them in the pet shops as a smokescreen. In reality, they are a sex toy."

"I've heard about the martinet, but never seen one until now."

"My mother used one on me from the age of sixteen if I was very naughty or neglected my studies. So I went to a pet shop and bought one. They didn't seem surprised. No one laughed or gave me a sly look. I put it at the bottom of my luggage when I flew here. If I got searched, I would say it is a novelty item. The worst they could do would be to confiscate it, and I didn't think that would happen. No searches took place. I don't think they have trained dogs to sniff luggage for these."

"I love to feel this cracked across my bottom ten to fifteen times and then get the hell screwed out of my tortured bum. Will you do it, please, Peter?"

I'm sure Angela knew what might happen, and a few 'noises off' would not bother her.

"Yes, of course I can, but please, don't you think you should try it on me first, because I have had no experience of what the martinet feels like?"

"Peter, I hoped you would ask. My ex-boyfriend in France would do it to me, but he wouldn't accept it from me, perhaps because of his arrogance or because he was a wimp. He treated me as if I were his property."

Standing by the bed and bent over, my head and shoulders were on the bedclothes.

"Peter, I must tell you it's the first time I have used this thing on anyone else. I will take care, but please, don't get annoyed if I make a few mistakes."

Monique got into position. I felt her check the reach and spread of the cords across my bum.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes."

Whistle 'crack,' my first very painful stroke of the martinet. It burned and stung like crazy. I remained in position but gasped a little. The cords being light gave an initial tremendous sting, which died away rapidly. My appreciation of the beautiful Monique standing there naked, ready to continue my experience, was giving me a diamond cutter of an erection.

Searing strokes cracked across my flaming rump. I counted to twelve, hoping she would stop there, but she carried on to fifteen. I stuck it, not daring to show any weakness.

"You brave boy. It was hard for you, but I wanted to see what you could take. It would be difficult to find a man in France to put up with that."

"Monique, don't worry. I needed to find out what it was all about, and now I know. What would you like?"

"Peter, give me fifteen of the martinet and then screw me. I'm so much missing the feeling of a sore bum and I feel horny after whipping you so hard! The pill will let us carry on without using condoms."

Monique got on the bed with her bottom in the air, and her head and shoulders down. It is an excellent position to apply correction instruments to the female posterior!

"I'm ready."

I cracked the first stroke across her shapely rump.

"Peter, that's too light. You don't have to be such a gentleman!"

"As you wish."

I swung a light stroke across the middle of her bottom. Monique said, "It's OK, but please try harder for the next stroke."

The next stroke landed with more force. Monique yelped and wriggled about, clenching and unclenching her buttock muscles. She calmed down after about a minute. It must have been close to her pain threshold.

I gave her another stroke of about the same force, but this time, I rubbed the marks immediately afterwards. The marks were quite red and formed hard ridges with the usual purple spot at the end of each mark. The martinet is suitable only for committed masochists.

"Please," I said, "Let's stop. It's too much for us."

Monique replied, "No, I want to receive fifteen strokes, the same as you. Please, carry on."

"Do you want them with time between them, and I rub after each stroke, or fast and I finish it, please?" I asked.

"Slowly, please, let me ask for the next stroke. It hurts, but it's a wonderful feeling afterwards. I'm ready," she replied.

'Whispering sound,' 'crack,' stroke number four delivered.

There was more yelping and squirming. But Monique did not rub her bum. Calm eventually arrived, and she said 'ready' again.

Stroke number five cracked across her bottom. I confess I did it a little harder. This produced yells of 'Ow, Ow' from Monique, and for the first time, she reached back with both hands and furiously rubbed her bum. It took maybe two minutes before she quietened and said, "Ready for the rest, please."

It took maybe twenty minutes to deliver all fifteen strokes as Monique rubbed after each one. In the end, her bottom had swollen slightly and was very red, but I had not broken the skin.

"Quick, screw me whilst I'm still on fire."

She got up and bent over the bed again to allow me to enter her in doggy fashion. Her pussy was soaking and was already in motion. Monique must have been close to orgasm during the whipping. As I thrust into her, she moaned, and the sight of her hard-thrashed bottom was such a turn-on. She came to her first orgasm in less than a minute. I held back and kept on screwing until she said, "Please, you need to stop soon. It's so strong."

Not needing any encouragement, I had my first orgasm with her. I was still stiff inside her when Monique said, "We must not mess up the bedclothes. Let's clean up in the bathroom. There's a bidet in there, which is unusual in the UK."

Monique sat on the bidet and turned on the taps.

"Peter, please help me wash!"

Her lack of prudery, trust in me and attitude to sex were such a joy to experience. This rare gem was by my side, which had to be one of life's miracles.

Back in bed in each other's arms, she stroked my hair.

"Peter, you were wonderful. You gave me such a dose of the martinet, and then you were like a tiger. You remained hard even after your orgasm. Jules could never do that."

"How does your bottom feel?"

"It's still stinging, but the pain is fading."

Monique reached for a towel and put it under her bottom. She raised her knees and said, "Angela told me you are very good at giving oral sex. I would like to see if she is right!"

"Sure, it's my pleasure too, because I love doing it. Do you like to have your G spot fingered as well?"

She beamed at me as I savoured her beautiful curves and delicate pussy. I rolled back the hood of her clitoris and fingered her G-spot. It didn't take long before she was in the grip of an enormous orgasm.

Monique said, "Why don't we make a 69? I can be on top."

"Why not?"

So we got into position. Monique gave me a wonderful blowjob. After a while, Monique said, "We must get some sleep. I will get cleaned up again, and so should you. In the morning, the place must not stink of sex."

Finally, in bed with the lights off, I felt a little hand stroke my penis.

"There's all weekend. I don't think I can take the martinet for a few days. But what you did will get me through the next couple of weeks. It's so horny sitting on the bidet with a sore bum and playing the water on my little sister. At that moment, I would like another dose of the martinet, but I know I can't handle it on an already hot bottom."

"I hope we haven't kept Angela awake."

"She's been good at letting us be alone, and I expect she would love to join us. How would you feel if she did?"

"A threesome would be a whole new experience for me. You seem to be happy with it?"

"Yes, I think so. Angela will be fine, but I have never done a threesome, and there is always a first time. We can wait and see!"

In the morning, we heard Angela moving around the house and the smell of breakfast cooking. We went down to her kitchen.

"Omelette, anyone?" said Angela.

"Yes, please."

"Did you sleep well?" Angela's eyes twinkled.

Naughty Monique replied, "Of course. Those human sleeping pills work so well."

"Perhaps I should take a couple!"

"Of course! I'm sure they will be available. Did you think to take them at a certain time?"

"How about this afternoon after two pm? We could eat a substantial breakfast, and the pills work best later on an empty stomach."

It was Angela's house. Things were developing at speed!

I could not stay silent. "Getting used to change is wonderful. If Monique and I get some exercise this morning, it may put us in the right physical and mental state."

It seemed I could do no wrong! Monique and I finished breakfast, put on warmer clothes, and went for a walk.

"Peter, don't let any of this bother you. I admit Angela and I had discussed this before I ever met you. If we got along, and we do, I would love to give this a try. I'm not a lesbian, but I'm not bothered about being in the company of a sophisticated older lady in a sexual situation. Whatever happens this afternoon, please go along with it. I don't think I can take any implements applied to my bottom right now, but you never know."

"So, how do you think it will start?"

"She will wait until she hears us at it, then arrive almost naked with a bottle of wine, and we take it from there.. She has admitted that there is an element of the voyeur in her and she would love to see a couple 'in the act.' We will have a drink with her, probably finish the bottle, then, well, you never know.

"I mentioned the martinet to her a few days back, and she says she wants to feel it across her bum. If she gets turned on, she will want attention from both of us, and she may want me to use the martinet on her. I would love to be part of it, but I'm not sure how I feel about being whipped again so soon. Of course, you never know."

"There might be a lengthy three-way oral session. "

"That sounds very attractive. Who would do what to whom?"

Monique laughed. "I guess it would sort of happen. We could change around if the mood took us. How would you feel if she wanted to give you a dose of the martinet or the cane? The idea of a caning turns me on because I've never experienced it."

"Being caned is something I'm used to, so I'm sure I can handle it."

Monique rubbed my hand as we walked along.

"Peter, I so much miss sex with Jules, although I don't miss him. Meeting Angela in the office has been wonderful. We only exchange words as the work requires. Sometimes we go for a coffee and snack at lunchtime, and that's when we arrange an evening rendezvous. That doesn't happen every day to avoid other staffers noticing."

"You remember you were away for the weekend with your uni club? I came to the house that weekend and spent the night, so I know how she is. She's slightly bi, but much more on the hetero side of it. I don't mind a little bi-activity, but it's not my favourite, as you may have guessed."

Monique was innocent enough to giggle, despite being four years older than me, which is a lot in your early twenties!

"We have to be careful. Angela can't attract comments because she is a well-known figure in our world and has a following outside it. I'm in a strange city and finding my way around."

Monique stopped and put her arms around me.

"Peter, I hope this doesn't bother you?"

I was rather out of my depth, but I knew I was going through one of life's great experiences, and to take it easy and not blow it.

"Monique, I'm so happy we have met. It feels like a miracle, and I'm old enough to know that there are so many sides to things. Angela's description of you is so accurate. I was afraid of getting into anything kinky with someone about whom I knew nothing, and you arrived in my life as if by magic. Last night was beyond words for a first session. Let's have a coffee. I'm getting cold out here."

So we had a coffee and walked back. Angela was out, which pleased me. It gave us a chance to get ready undisturbed. After showering, back in the warm bedroom, Monique lay on her front, bottom up. It bore marks from the previous evening's session. I stroked it.

"Does it hurt still?"

"Not really. There is a sensation, but it's pleasant. How about you?"

The marks on my bottom were worse than Monique's, but there was only a moderate sensation, which wasn't unpleasant.

"I could take more if it comes to it."

"Peter, once you have 'come,' how long does it take before you can do it again?"

"I'm not sure. This is the first time I have been able to find out. I guess it might take an hour if I'm in good shape. Why don't we try?"

"Please, go down on me first, just like you did last night with finger and oral."

"I love doing that. It's such a turn-on for me."

Monique loved receiving oral and my fingering of her G spot. She must have had three orgasms when she said, "Stop. It's so strong. I need a break to recover."

"Have a rest and I have another idea once you have recovered."

"What's that?"

"You come over my knee for a hand spanking as a warm-up, then once warmed up, we have sex."

"Peter, this time in the missionary position, please. It was lovely doing it doggy, but you were in so deep, and it hurt a little when you gave a hard thrust."

Monique got over my knee, and I gave her beautiful bottom about forty hand spanks done hard. She yelped and wriggled about! When I stopped, a little hand reached out and grabbed at my penis.

"Stick it in me, you naughty boy."

We were well into it when the bedroom door opened, and Angela arrived in a negligee with a bottle of wine and glasses. I was in too much bliss to care, and I'm sure that the fact that we were half expecting her improved our enormous mutual climax.

"Young love is wonderful to watch. Monique darling, please let me go down on you. You don't need to clean up."

I eased myself out of Monique and made way for Angela. “Yes, please. Peter, if you don't mind?

"No, I am mentally prepared for it after all! Maybe Angela needs to pay for her pleasure with a spanking from both of us in a little while!"

So I experienced my first-ever threesome! Angela was even less prudish than I thought and went down on Monique. Her shapely rump was in the air, so I took the opportunity to give her oral attention, hoping it would benefit Monique as an unintended consequence.

Monique was moaning in pleasure and grabbed Angela by the hair!

"Angela, let me recover. I feel so selfish in enjoying myself, thanks to your efforts! Please, let me go down on you in return. It will be a first for me! Afterwards, I deserve a spanking."

"Monique, how will it be if Peter and I get into a 69 with me on top? You can give me the martinet whilst Peter licks me out. I want to experience how it feels to be pleasured and whipped simultaneously. A caning gives me enormous arousal, despite the pain, so I need to check out the martinet."

"I'm up for it if you are too, Monique!"

Angela lowered her rump towards my face. Our position on the bed was such that Monique could deliver a good swing of the martinet squarely across Angela's bottom. I was giving her my best attempt at oral sex, knowing that she found the softness of my tongue to be a wonderful stimulus to her clitoris and vagina.

After being on the receiving end of the martinet, Monique knew best how to apply its fiery stings to already aroused flesh. It seemed that her favourite was to receive a series of hard strokes with a long time between them to allow the afterglow to develop. She had discussed that point with me earlier in the day!

Angela yelled in pain as the first stroke of the martinet struck home. I pulled her down on top of me, got her clitoris between my teeth and tongue and gently nibbled and sucked at it. I rubbed the raised welts on her bottom, and my actions were rewarded with convulsive jerks of her pelvis. After about four strokes (I lost count!), she collapsed on top of me, whimpering in a mixture of pain and pleasure. I lifted her and could see her clitoris in motion!

"Peter, you know what they say about the earth moving? I have had one of those tonight."

Cute Monique was less prudish than I had believed possible. She handed me the martinet and said, "I want to try something. Come on."

We headed for the bathroom, and Monique sat on the bidet, playing the spray on her vulva with her bottom stuck out beyond the rim.

"Give me a dose of the martinet while I pleasure myself here. I want to experience it, please."

As Angela watched with her tongue hanging out, I added more strokes of the martinet to those still visible on her rump. Angela grabbed the martinet from me and said, "My turn now. The wicked hussy needs a white-hot bum after what she did to me."

Monique screamed as each stroke landed, but was obviously in seventh heaven. Her bottom was a mass of vivid red welts.

"Stop, stop, please, it's all I can take."

I knelt and put my arms around her.

"We must stop now, are you OK?"

"Yes, it's beyond words, but I'm so sore. Let me rest now, please."

I helped her to dry as she shook with the aftershocks of sexual pleasure. Angela had discreetly left us alone. We clung to each other in bed as Monique recovered from her massive stimulation and fell asleep.

About two hours later, she woke up and said, “Peter, my bum is so sore. Peter, can you massage it for me, please?”

I rolled her over bottom-up and gently massaged the hot, sore welts. After about ten minutes, Monique said, “I can feel your stiff dick. Stick it in me and keep it there for as long as possible. I have had as much done to my bum as I can take, and when you rub the marks, my pussy starts twitching. Keep still inside me, and I will see what I can do.”

I entered her and could feel her pelvic muscles stirring.

“I can feel you squeezing me. It's the first time I have felt it.”

“Peter, I can tell you something now that we have been so intimate. I read a translation of an ancient Chinese sex manual for girls which described how to train your pussy muscles.  It is centuries old and so informative. I have followed the instructions, and they work, in fact, too well. I can squeeze my pelvic muscles when I sit down and give myself an orgasm. I try not to do it in the office in case the other girls recognise what I am doing! When I receive the martinet, and I’m sure it will be the same if you cane me, the shockwave of pain travels through my pelvis and has a powerful effect on my pussy. It makes me feel unbelievably horny!”

“Angela and I have discussed this and other things after we met. There are no secrets between us, and she was fascinated by my description of the sex manual, so I gave her a copy. Her feelings after a caning mirror my own, and she wants to see if training her pussy will help her sexual pleasure. I’m sure it will.”

I was part of something beyond and bigger than me, and it was my lovely duty to help it along to our mutual benefit! Not everyone has the chance to have access to a kinky sisterhood!