Photo credit: the Penitents
It had been a dull, rainy day on the housing estate and Jennifer had been bored. Boredom brings mischief to idle hands, or in this case fingers.
Unable to find any of her friends when she telephoned, she'd had the extraordinarily juvenile idea of making random calls to names she'd selected from the telephone directory. To begin with, she'd tell them she was from the zoo: when did they want delivery of the giraffe they'd ordered? Or, ''Your 30 pizzas are ready. We've charged them to your credit card and our delivery man will be with you in a a couple of minutes.' Jennifer had enjoyed the spluttering confusion at the other end of the line, and so had raised the game. The next lady who answered was told that it was the local newspaper calling. Had she any comment on the story they were going to run this week about her husband having been found naked, chasing a choirboy down the street? A gentleman was asked how much his wife charged for half an hour - was it less than the hourly rate on the card in the 'phone box?
Jennifer sat on the sofa and giggled at the reactions she was getting. She was, alas, unaware that nuisance calls could be traced, and so when the telephone beside her rang and she found her furious husband on the other end, she knew the game was up. He could not leave the office to deal with her now, but he'd be home at lunchtime and she could expect the thrashing of her life. In the meantime, she was remain in her room.
Jennifer had sat and waited, first in dread, as she watched the hours tick slowly past. Then she started to feel something else: a warm, damp sensation between her legs. At first she was puzzled about her arousal, but then it slowly dawned on her. She was anticipating the hiding she was going to get with fear and titillation in almost equal quantities. There was something...well, something incredibly sexy about being dominated by her husband: the way he'd put her over his knees and smack her bottom with his hand when she they were first married. Now, it was always an implement on her bare backside: a hairbrush, a strap, or a cane. Today, it was bound to be the cane. Of course those sessions hurt, but there was also something deeply erotic about them, especially the cuddle he would give her afterwards, which almost always triggered a session of wild, abandoned sex.
At one o'clock he arrived and ordered her curtly up to her room. She obeyed demurely.
"Kneel on the chair, knickers down. How dare you make those calls? You've brought embarrassment and shame on us both." He tapped her behind with the whippy rattan. She felt her nipples stiffen Oh, this was going to be delicious! Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!
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