Payment Behind - Part 4

The final part, from Blushes Supplement 17

Harry was coming round again in the evening. Connie shivered. What was he going to want? He was going to want the other, as well as a spanking. He had wanted it this morning but hadn’t persisted. But this evening… He would say he wanted it again. And… Connie had the awful feeling that she might, that she could be open to persuasion. If he had persisted this morning in the bathroom she would probably have agreed, that was the way she had felt — or half felt. Connie shook her head. She was getting all mixed up. She should never have started this business with Harry. But what could she have done. She should have controlled her affairs better in the first place. That stupid gambling.

‘What…?’ she said to Dave. Then, ‘No. Not now. Let’s just sit here.’

They were in his car. Out on the common on a nice sunny Sunday afternoon. But Dave didn’t want to just sit there and enjoy the afternoon, he wanted what Harry had wanted this morning. And Dave, being her more or less regular boyfriend thought he was entitled to it. ‘Come on, Connie. It’s been three days now.’

Had it? She couldn’t really remember. This business with Harry had driven everything else out of Connie’s head. How long had it been with Harry now, since that first evening? It had been Wednesday. Four days. But since he had sent his wife off he had been in the flat all the time it seemed. And tonight… she shouldn’t have agreed to him coming tonight. Because with no Madge he wouldn’t want to leave. And that would mean…

Connie shivered again, and said ‘Please’ to Dave. Meaning: Please don’t. His hand was up her skirt, stroking the inside of her thigh in a persuasive manner. She didn’t want to, not with all this spanking business. It was just so… unsettling. And Harry’s Madge was away for two whole weeks. Harry had even said, smiling, ‘Maybe longer!’ What was going, to happen? She still had a lot of back rent to pay. If I do do it, she told herself, it’ll only be because of that. And because I’ve got into such an awful state.

Still saying she didn’t feel like it Connie was nonetheless shortly getting out of the car, and going with Dave over into the nearby trees. Dave was carrying a car rug. She didn’t want to but he persuaded her. Persuaded her to get down on the rug and then take her knickers off. Connie knew she shouldn’t have agreed. Maybe she sensed something was going to happen. Right in the middle of doing it they were discovered by some boys. Sudden raucous, gleeful shouts. A dreadful, sickening shock when you were spread out with it up inside you. The sickening thought of grinning youthful faces watching… Dave on top of her. Jeans lowered. Pumping.

That was the end of that. The horrible boys wouldn’t go away until Dave chased them off and after that there was no way Connie was going to start again.

----//----

‘Had a nice day?’ Harry asked. ‘Where’ve you been?’

Connie gave a vague answer, not wishing to be reminded of that awful embarrassment. She had had a couple of glasses of her scotch after getting back, to erase that dreadful memory. Dave had gone off in a bad mood, frustrated by what had — or had not — happened, leaving Connie with the thought of Harry’s visit. She had considered the possibility of not answering the buzzer. But she had.

‘Look,’ said Harry. ‘Look what I’ve got.’

She hadn’t noticed he was holding something behind his back. His hand came out now and it was holding… a cane. She stared at it, unable for the moment, with the scotch, to take it in. Grinning, he swished it through the air.

‘No!’ she breathed belatedly.

‘I thought we could give it a try. It’s for naughty girls.’

‘No!’ she yelped again. ‘You’re not… not a cane…’

Harry put it down on her sofa and took hold of her. One hand came unerringly round to her bottom, squeezing through her skirt. ‘Just a little touch, Connie dear. All girls should have a taste of the cane. It’s good for them.’

Another squeeze at her bottom and Harry let go. He took up the cane again. ‘Come on. Hold out your hand.’

‘No!’ Since the cane had appeared Connie had been thinking about her bottom, but her hand… that might be just as bad. Worse even?

Harry gave his little grin. ‘Look; we’ll play a game. You’ve been a naughty girl, I’m sending you to bed. Without any supper I expect. You’ve got to go in the bedroom and wait. Until I come in for you. Take everything off — except your slip say. OK?’

Connie glanced from the cane to Harry’s smiling face. He wasn’t really going to use the cane, was he? And there was that other. What he had wanted this morning.

Harry was holding the cane out to her. ‘Take the cane and place it on the bed next to you. Then lie there and wait for Uncle Harry.’

‘I’m not… not having the cane,’ Connie said in a frightened, little-girl voice.

‘We’ll see.’ Harry pushed the cane into her hand. ‘Go on in there. And I want everything off, mind, except your slip. Lie on the bed with your slip pulled up. So your bottom is bare.’

He is going to cane me, she told herself. On her bare bottom. Connie could almost feel it: an impossible, searing pain. Ten times worse than the slipper. Harry had said it would be a game but it wouldn’t be if he did it. And he was going to do it, she knew. Connie was, nonetheless, in her bedroom, taking off her clothes. Everything except her slip. She looked at the cane. It had the sort of awful fascination a weasel had for a rabbit. You knew it could do awful things but at the same time you couldn’t run away from it — or throw it out of the window or anything.

Gingerly she picked it up and placed it on the bed. Then equally gingerly got on the bed herself. There had been the two things already today. Harry this morning and then that business out on the common. Now this evening session with Harry. It was going to be the worst of all, she knew.

Connie lay on the bed, shivering, though it wasn’t cold. She heard the door open. Harry. Face down in the pillows she could sense him come, round the foot of the bed. The cane was there waiting for him. Waiting for her. The bed abruptly dipped, with Harry ‘s weight as he sat down. Almost at once his hand was on her bottom. Stroking. Patting.

He got up. ‘Let’s have it up a bit, Connie. Lift up and let’s get a pillow underneath.’

Harry pushing a pillow under her hips. So that her bottom was more prominent. A nice prominent target for the cane.

‘I don’t want it,’ she whimpered.

Harry’s hand on her bottom again. His voice was soft, but excited. ‘It won’t hurt. We’ll just have one or two. For a start.’

No. She gripped the bedclothes. No…

Crack!…

Connie made a muffled screaming sound into the pillow. It had come down. Like a red-hot poker.

‘No!’

Harry saying something. And then…

Crack!…

Her scream again. She couldn’t…

Then it was Harry’s hand. He was sitting on the bed again. ‘Didn’t really hurt, did it?’

She answered, a garbled, gabbled sound. Harry said, ‘Spread your legs.’

His hand was still there on her bottom. It was all hot, stinging, where the cane had sliced down. She actually felt a bit like a young girl who was being disciplined by her uncle or someone. You couldn’t argue or it would just make things worse. She moved her legs apart.

‘Wider. That’s better.’ Harry’s hand… It was stroking and patting Connie’s bottom and then it slid down. Between her legs. She made a sound into the pillow. She was wet there, between her legs.

He was leaning over her. ‘Does that feel better?’ Connie made a sound that could have been yes or no. ‘Turn over. Onto your back.’

She did it. You had to obey. Or else… ‘Open your legs again,’ he told her. And she did that too. Her hips were still raised on the pillow. Her pussy was raised. Presented. Open. She looked up at him, eyes wide. What…? The cane? Where was the cane? Was he going to cane her? Or… what?

Harry didn’t have the cane in his hand. He sat down again on the bed. ‘Lift up —’ she pushed it up a bit, the bit that he meant. Harry smiled. His hand came out. In between her legs. She was even wetter now. He was just smiling down. A bit like a cat that had caught a canary. Connie thought briefly of Dave, as Harry’s fingers stroked…