Home to Roost,   a tale by anna

Julie and Sarah were having a couple of hours together while their respective men, Rob and Tony played squash. The moment the men were out of the door, the girls tumbled into a conversation about a punishment Julie had received the previous evening. It had been quite severe, nine strokes of the cane followed by a really sound spanking across Rob’s knee which, on top of the caning she had just received, had been the more painful. Sarah was a sensitive, compassionate soul and her heart went out to her sister in suffering who preferred, twenty-four hours after the event to stand rather than sit and still winced occasionally as she walked. Sarah dragged every last detail out of Julie, who told her of the fear, the anticipation, the waiting, the pain, the weeping, the crying out, the sobbing and shaking when it was finally over and, in slightly less graphic detail, the tenderness and intensity of the reconciliation.

At length Sarah said “Ju, can I see your marks?” Julie, who was lying on the floor, on her stomach, next to Sarah, who was sitting, got up slowly with obvious discomfort. She raised skirt-her knickers were very brief and did not need to be lowered. With enormous pride she maintained this posture for over a minute. Sarah studied the frightening testament of Julie’s ordeal: between the top of Julie’s stockings and her suspender belt. Sarah studied the nine livid black and purple weals of the cane, intersecting but each individually discernible, the skin on Julie’s right buttock slightly broken in three places, all against the random black and blue backdrop of the fierce spanking she had borne in addition.

Sarah’s face paled-“God, that must have hurt!” “Yes-still does.”

Julie let her skirt drop and slowly lay on her stomach again. Tears of pity came to Sarah’s eyes and she put a comforting hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Well, it’s over now, Ju.” The memory came back to Julie in all its’ intensity and she too began to cry. “It still hurts now. Every time I move.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ju. Why did he do it?”

“Because I deserved it...and I did deserve it...” said Julie, concluding fiercely, ”and I loved him all the time he was doing it.” Sarah understood this and smiled through her tears, rubbing Julie’s shoulder. “I know, I know, ”she said,” It’s a long time since I had the cane, never as hard as that. I’m so sorry.” Julie was quiet for a while. Then she said ”Don’t be sorry-you don’t know what I got it for.” “But I am sorry, Ju.” “That’s not what I mean. I got it for the time you and I went to the club when Rob and Tony were away. Max saw us coming out and told Rob.”

As though struck by a lash, Sarah sat bolt upright, waiting for what Julie would say next. Julie went on: “Rob’s going to tell Tony tonight and get him to give you the same. He said I was to tell you. I didn’t want to.” Her face white, Sarah removed her hand from Julie’s shoulder. She stared ahead in silence. They were both silent. At length Julie said, ”Why do we go through with it?” “We just do, ”said Sarah gloomily.

At that moment they heard Tony’s car on the drive. They heard the men joking and laughing, an unreal sound in the funereal atmosphere where they waited in silence. When the men entered the living room, both girls were standing by the fire, small, anxious, and afraid. It was immediately obvious that Julie had conveyed to Sarah what she was to receive.

“Good evening, Sarah,” said Rob with a broad smile, ”We’ve had a good game.” “Hello, Rob, ”squeaked Sarah in a voice barely audible. For a few seconds there was a hush, almost, it seemed out of respect for Sarah’s plight, such as a family might observe at the sickbed of a close relative with a serious illness. Rob broke the silence.

“Well, we must be going. Got everything, Julie?” “Yes, Sir.” She rarely called him Sir in company. “Then we’ll be off,” adding cruelly, ”Have a nice evening, Sarah.” The meek, distressed and terrified gaze with which Sarah met his as she softly said ”Yes, Rob.” made him ashamed. He smiled kindly, awkwardly at her. Julie could not find her voice but kept her eyes on Sarah to the last, even as the door closed behind her.

Tony, who had said nothing since coming in, looked at Sarah. “Anything to say, darling?” “I’m sorry, Sir.” “Go and get the study ready.” “Yes, Sir.”

Sarah went to the study, cleared the desk, took the cane from its drawer and laid it on the desk. She checked that there was space on the hook for her to hang his jacket once she’d helped him off with it, before she rolled up his sleeve, curtsied, smiled, raised her dress, lowered her knickers and bent over the desk. Yes, all was in order. The niceties mattered so much at times like this. She went out into the corridor and faced the wall, hands behind her back, feet apart. She studied the wallpaper pattern, thinking how much she loved Tony, how he would be as nervous as she at this moment-well, almost: she resolved to make it as easy as possible for him. She imagined the fervent schoolboy thrill he was experiencing at his mastery of her to the extent that she would let him hurt her so much. Not more than she could bear or harm her but hurt her nevertheless; in this, she felt maternal toward him and allowed herself to smile.

Presently she heard him pass behind her and go into the study. She heard him examining her recent arrangements. Then: “Come in.” She knocked on the study door. Again: “Come in.”

She went in, her heart pounding, her mouth dry and locked the door. Tony looked uneasy, he had never punished as severely as he was about to and they both knew it. She smiled at him reassuringly, meekly, timidly but a smile all the same and, as she smiled a tear coursed each of her cheeks-not so much tears of fear, although that was present in great quantity, but more of tenderness. He smiled back, tenderly, nervously and in that moment of sweet intimacy she realised that he was trying not to cry too.

When it was over, the screams, the pleas for mercy, the sobs had died down, Sarah stood in front of the bedroom mirror, examining her marks, still all red and purple, not yet at all black as Julie’s were. In part-she was slightly cut in three places as Julie had been-and she felt the sense of elation and achievement which she always felt at times like this (Although she had never been so severely punished before). She was always allowed some recovery time alone and she cherished it. She heard Tony coming up the stairs, eager no doubt to examine the emphatic marks of his mastery over her. She began to remove her dress but movement was still painful to her-she wondered with a horrid, fascinated thrill how much it would hurt her rear when he mounted her and began plunging into her-she knew she’d soon find out. She gritted her teeth and pulled the dress off. She dropped her knickers and lay on her front on the bed. He sat next to her and caressed the marks of his handiwork on her bottom, noticing that it made her flinch. “Is this hurting, darling?”

“Please enjoy yourself, Sir, I can put up with it.” “I do love you.” “And I 0oww! Love you, Sir.”

After a while he stood up to undress. With a yelp of discomfort, she rolled onto her back and parted her legs to receive him.

The End Copyright © anna