Fair Enough! a tale by annie
                

Tom surveyed the unkempt condition of the sitting room, and Jenny, lying on the sofa, watching the television."And what have you done today?"She looked up sheepishly. "Not a lot, Sir.""I can see that. Why not?""It's my time of the month, Sir.""And..?""l was in a tizzy, Sir. l watched a film.""All day? A long film!""Not all day, Sir. l'm sorry. l'll get tea now you're back.""Do that."She went to the kitchen, and he said no more about it, seeing that she was afflicted by the cramp of her condition. A few days later, when he knew her indisposition was over, he summoned her to the study. With a mixture of trepidation and surprise, she stood before the desk. He sat behind the desk, his hands behind his head."Jen, when l came home on Wednesday, you'd wasted the day. Correct?""Yes, Sir.""Why?"The question puzzled her. "l think l told you, Sir, l had the monthly.""And we've agreed before, l believe, that's no excuse for wasting an entire day.""Yes, Sir."He looked vexed. "l do sympathise, Jen, as far l can, not knowing what it's like. But as we've said before, the world can't stop for it, can it?""No, Sir," she said in a small voice, "l suppose not."There was silence. From that moment she knew she was going to be punished, also that she deserved to be.  Her heart went out to Tom who was a sympathetic and kind man - he was clearly finding this very difficult. For her part, knowing that she deserved to suffer, she resolved to help him."There's no excuse for it, Sir. l'm very sorry."This frank admission of guilt helped him to find his feet a little. But he was still afraid of being unreasonably harsh. She gave him a slight smile of  encouragement, blushed and looked down, in this way inviting him to take control of the situation - the male ego and assertiveness needed nurture on occasion, she knew. Her having smiled timidly, humbly, and averted her gaze put her in the tacit position of submission to his will. He could, as the gesture informed him, do as wished with her - within reason of course, but she had silently acknowledged her acceptance of punishment and willingness to endure it. On other occasions, when the offence was clearcut and her misconduct had no mitigation, there was no need for all this."Anything to say?"This was always the last line before sentence was pronounced. Fear and arousal mingled in her: she felt a damp patch appear on her knickers. "No excuses, Sir, l felt weepy and watched a weepy film.""You'll be a good deal more weepy soon. Get me a cane and bend over the desk.""Yes, Sir."He stood up. She cleared the desk and rolled up his right shirt-sleeve. Then she raised her dress, lowered her knickers, and bent obediently over the desk. He flexed the cane and admired the view. He always caned her hard, but never brutally, never to cause lasting harm. He gazed fondly at her trembling bottom. He decided not to be harsh."Six of the best, Jen.""Yes, Sir, thank you.""Ready?""Yes, Sir."In the bathroom, she had stopped sobbing. She'd tidied her tear smudged makeup, and gazed   proudly at her stripes. That had certainly hurt, but she'd deserved it. All was right now. She went to him in bed. As always,after punishment, the foreplay was long and tender. She yielded to his gentle caresses, lingering long on her breasts before moving to her vagina. At length, he he put his hand between her legs and caressed her outer labia and clitoris for some minutes, as she gasped ecstatically."Please, Sir, put it inside me."He laughed."Put what inside you?""Your finger, Sir......... or your cock.""Which do you want?"She giggled."Finger followed by cock......... please, Sir."She got her wish.