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A week after our after-dark visit to the office, where I had photographed and then made love to Margaret on the boardroom table, we were enjoying dinner with her parents at their eastern suburbs’ home.That is to say, her mother, Jean, had prepared a very nice meal for us; Clarence, her father, had raided his cellar for some fine wines, and we had enjoyed some witty and amusing conversation on all of the supposedly taboo dining table subjects, such as politics, religion and the stock market.Which left sport and sex. The latter of which was, of course, the prime reason we were there, to have Clarence demonstrate his spanking technique.On Margaret, my wife and his daughter.So that, as Margaret hoped, it would add another dimension to our sexual relations which, since she had persuaded me to reveal some of my previously repressed fantasies, had already improved immeasurably.I had never in my wildest dreams, imagined that such a topic would be a suitable one for conversation with my in-laws. But here I was, in a state ranging between anxiety and excitement, waiting for Margaret to broach the subject.Which she did, as Jean cleared the dessert dishes away and Clarence topped up my glass with a very acceptable Hunter Valley shiraz.“Dutch courage,” said Margaret, holding out her glass. Her father raised his eyebrows. “Don’t worry Dad, we’ve booked a taxi to take us home.” She winked at me. “I think we’re both going to need a bit more to help us relax.”Clarence refilled her glass and stretched back in his chair. “So, Margaret, you really would like me to show James how to spank you?”Clarence would have been in his late sixties. He had played rugby in his youth, and still looked powerful despite the wrinkles and the white hair on his head. He was already a successful company director when I had worked for him years before, which is how I had come to meet Margaret. I had forged my own career since then and owed him little, except for his daughter’s hand in marriage. But I still felt a strong, underlying, bond of filial respect.“Yes,” she replied, blushing to the roots of her hair.I smiled at the contrast between her red-faced, self-conscious embarrassment in front of her father, and the foul-mouthed, naked, wanton, sex-goddess she had played for me the previous week.Clarence dropped his head and stared at me over the top of his spectacles, his mouth in a firm, straight line.“I hope you’re not thinking of mistreating my daughter, young man,” he growled.It was my turn to blush. I reached for my wine glass and gulped a mouthful.“No, of course not.” How far was he going to push us to reveal the real reason we wanted his advice?There was giggling from the doorway, as Jean returned from the kitchen bearing a coffee pot. “Stop teasing them, Clarence,” she said. “They just want to spice things up in the bedroom, a bit of playful spanking, some role-play.”“I wouldn’t have thought young people like you would need a grey-haired pensioner to show them what to do in the bedroom,” said Clarence, with a cheeky grin on his wrinkled face.“Thank you, Mum.” Margaret looked more like her composed self, now the subject had been laid openly on the table. “James doesn’t need much help in that department.” She reached for my hand, smiling broadly. “But, like Mum said, a bit of role-playing, the naughty maid over the knee, that sort of thing. Mum says you’re pretty good at it.”Clarence raised an eyebrow. “This certainly is a most unusual conversation to have with Ankara escort one’s married daughter. But you’re not kids, you know what you’re doing so ask away, what do you want to know?”Margaret fixed me with her eyes. “Go on, you ask him, you’re the one that needs to know.”I took a breath. I’d negotiated expensive and complex projects, so how difficult could this be?“I, well that really is Margaret and I, would like you to explain how to spank and cane someone, what type of cane to use and how to use it, so that it doesn’t cause severe pain or do any real damage, just enough to, enough to …” This was proving harder than I thought, and I couldn’t finish the sentence.“Just enough to sting me a bit, and get me … you know,” said Margaret.“Know what?” asked Clarence, smirking at her.“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” said Jean. “Stop behaving like smutty-minded adolescents. She wants you to show James how to spank and cane her so that he gets the thrill of whacking and reddening her backside, and she gets turned on by it. Just like you do to me.”I caught Jean’s eye across the table. She winked conspiratorially at me and I realised that Margaret had already rehearsed this conversation with her mother. As I had previously remarked to Margaret, when she first raised the idea, I still found it hard to believe that Jean was willing, or even capable of being spanked by her husband. She was a few years younger than Clarence, grey-haired and petite, if not exactly frail. I found it very hard to imagine her across Clarence’s knee with his meaty fists pummeling her backside. Margaret, on the other hand, had inherited her mother’s fine facial bone structure, but she had also inherited her father’s sturdy body.“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place,” said Clarence. “Why all this beating about the bush?”Well, that brought the house down, and it was several minutes before we all stopped laughing.“Okay. Okay,” said Clarence, holding up his hand. “Settle down and let’s all move into my study. He stood up and led the way, seating himself behind his big, leather-topped, desk and pointing Margaret to the chair opposite him. Jean and I sat on the leather chesterfield against the wall.“You’re probably thinking it will be like some of those old stories you’ve read,” said Clarence. “Six of the best on the backside, a thick pair of knickers under your skirt, some yelps and tears and off to bed for a good cry.” We nodded.“Well, this is different. For a start, Margaret, you won’t be wearing any knickers. Then James will have to give you a good spanking to warm you up. And the caning which follows will hurt, and will leave marks but,” he paused and dropped his eyes slyly, “if he does it right you should enjoy it, and the after-effects.”“What do you mean by warmed up?” she asked.“Hand spanking, a paddle, or even just lightly tapping with the cane. Gently at first, then progressively harder until the skin is glowing red and warm to the touch. And it feels that way to you too. It gets your adrenaline pumping and the endorphins working, and makes the caning much more bearable.”It was all news to me, but hearing Clarence explain it in such a matter-of-fact way to his daughter while sitting beside the woman who, apparently, was already a beneficiary of such attention, was sending delicious feelings through my loins.Clarence pointed towards a Sheraton corner cupboard. “If you look in there Margaret, you’ll find some canes. Bring Ankara escort bayan one to me, please.”She did as requested. Clarence walked round to the other side of the desk and took the cane from her.“The traditional English style cane you’ve probably seen in old movies, had a curved handle, was about a yard long and a bit under half-inch diameter. Very painful, if that was what you intended it for. He held up a straight cane, with a leather-wrapped handle. “This is shorter and about a quarter of an inch thick.” He swished it through the air. “It’s quite whippy and delivers a bit of a sting, so you still need to be careful with it.”He raised his arm above his head and brought it savagely down in an arc, the cane whistling through the air. Margaret’s eyes opened wide with shocked surprise.“That’s how not to do it,” he said, laughing at her reaction. “What you’re aiming for is control of both strength and direction. Like this.” He took a firm stance with his legs apart, and swished the cane horizontally back and forth using his forearm and wrist. It still looked pretty fearsome, and Margaret’s eyes remained wide.“Well, Missee?” He turned to her. “Are you willing to give it a go?”Confronted by her burly father energetically swishing a two-and-a-half-foot cane, Margaret hesitated. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she changed her mind and asked him to forget the whole thing. She didn’t, and I felt moved and profoundly grateful that she was prepared to go through with it for my sake, as well as for hers. Apart from that, the twitching of my semi-hard cock betrayed the fact that I was increasingly excited by the thought of seeing her bent over for a spanking.Margaret stood up and her father pushed a padded stool towards her.“Okay, you’re going to kneel on that stool, and then bend forward and rest your forearms on the desk. You can grip the far edge for support, if you want.”Margaret moved towards the stool.“You’re forgetting something,” said Clarence.She looked at him quizzically for a moment, before realisation dawned. Reaching up under her flowing skirt, she wriggled her panties down and stepped out of them. With the skirt maintaining her modesty, she knelt on the stool and bent forward to rest her arms on the desktop.“I’m going to lift your skirt up, is that all right?” asked Clarence.She nodded, and I held my breath as Clarence reached down for the hem and lifted it, folding it over her back and revealing her bottom and thighs.Which were sufficiently parted for the three of us behind her to see a glimpse of her plump outer labia, with the crinkly tips of her inner lips slightly proud between them.“Oh my,” breathed Jean, at the sight of the mature, shaven sex of her daughter.There was a sharp clap as Clarence smacked Margaret on the buttock with his palm. “Close your legs, Dear. Apart from anything else, you don’t want to risk the cane coming into contact with your sensitive bits.”His face was slightly flushed, a few beads of sweat had broken out on his brow and I wondered if he was enjoying this as much as I was. “You naughty old man,” I thought. “Getting a thrill out of peeking at your daughter’s pussy, and spanking her backside.”“Although,” he continued, in a huskier voice, “some women find light taps to be tolerably pleasant even there.” I glanced at Jean, catching the slight nod of acknowledgement towards her husband, and seeing the glint of arousal in her eyes.Clarence put the cane Escort Ankara down on the desk and took up position to the left of Margaret’s bottom.“Okay, arch your back a bit so that your bum sticks out,” he said.Margaret giggled and waggled her hips. I could hardly believe how erotic she looked, naked from the waist down, bending over her father’s desk and pushing her bottom up to take a caning.“I’m going to warm you up with some hand spanking,” he continued. She nodded in reply. “Normally it might be more fun to do this over the knee, if you’re role-playing.”From the sly grin on his face, and the bulge at his crotch, I could see he would have been more than happy to do that.Whack! Whack!His hand slapped down on her buttocks. The first few strokes were light, alternating between cheeks and extracting some nervous giggling and squirming from Margaret. But then the spanks got progressively harder, eliciting yelps and squeals, and raising a crimson flush to her bottom.“Are you okay?” asked Clarence, taking a pause. “The idea is to work over the surface of both buttocks until they are an even shed of red. How do they feel to you?”“Yes, it’s fine,” said Margaret. “My bottom feels like it’s warm and glowing.” She wriggled her hips again. “It feels quite nice actually.”Clarence raised his hand and spanked harder. The flesh of her buttocks rippled under the shock of each blow of his palm, and she yelped, twisting her hips and arching her back. I would never have dreamed that she would put up with being spanked like that, and when it stopped, I was amazed to hear a husky, contented laugh as she reached round to feel her glowing cheeks.“Ooooohhhhh, that was amazing,” she said. “It does hurt, it’s not agony though. It’s a nice hurt. It feels as if I’m glowing inside. Much better than I expected.”“That was only the warm-up,” said Clarence. “You’ve still got the main event to go. But if you can stand it so far then that’s a good sign.” He turned to me. “Now, after the pain of a spanking, you should administer a little pleasure. I’m sure Margaret would be quite grateful for a few moments of gentle stroking of her bottom, and you can check how she’s doing at the same time.”I stood, walked over to Margaret and placed my hand on her crimson buttocks. They felt hot and she sighed and wriggled at my touch. I felt both embarrassed and thrilled to be caressing my wife’s naked bottom in front of her parents, and especially in front of the father who had just finished spanking it.I bent forward and whispered in her ear, asking if she was all right, how she was feeling and if she was happy to carry on.“It’s fine, really,” she whispered. “I feel as if my pussy is glowing as well as my bottom. I feel awfully wet.” She giggled. “Do you want to check?”It felt so wrong to hear from her own lips, that her father’s spanking had turned her on, but my cock straining against the waistband of my slacks betrayed my approval. I stroked over and around her buttocks, feeling their warmth, hearing her gentle sighs of pleasure, and slid my fingers along the crack between them, trying to make it look casual. Margaret parted her thighs slightly, and my fingers brushed against her labia. They were wet, as she had admitted, and my cock jumped in my pants.“We can leave you alone if you’d like,” said Jean. I felt my face flush, realising she had seen me slip my fingers between her daughter’s thighs.“No, no,’’ I said, flustered and trying to control my voice. “Are you ready to carry on, Margaret?”“Yes please,” she said. “And watch carefully, James, this is the important part.”Clarence picked up the cane, swished it back and forth a few times and resumed his stance. He indicated that I was to stand on the other side, far enough away to be out of reach of the cane.
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