That evening.. and every moment of the weekend that were able to, we spent together. And every time we found secret places to snog, I also succeeded in getting her to show me the weals again and again.
For the next year, until I moved, she was my girlfriend… a great feather in my cap… nobody had a girlfriend two years above you! But I was not the only one who lusted after her. Yep, good old Head had got away with it. A good bare bottomed caning…and no protest from mater or pater. He just had to pick his moments. And he did. He caned her 4 more times before I sadly left my flatland paradise. Each time I had days of private viewings of the stripes of his lust, watching them change daily in colour and shape. Oh how thrilling the feel, the sights and sweet aromas of my explorations were.
I wonder how many times she was caned after I left; I wonder how many more others he caned before or since.