Six Sizzling Strokes

(****, M/F, Intense, semi-consensual caning)

A store employee screws up. (Approximately 1,486 words. Originally published 2020-05.)

There's something about high mounted buttocks, round and cheeky, that invites the cane. Clara, despite not being the prettiest nor the smartest girl in the world, had a bum that Clark ached to cane.

She was petite and slim, except for that overlarge backside, which thrust out deliciously and aggressively. The shape was spectacular, the cheeks high and rounding out and in to join her nice legs. It was a bottom worthy of the cane, and Clark was up many a night dreaming administering a classic "six of the best."

He never dreamed it would actually happen, of course. Such things had gone out of favor a century ago, and girls today thought canes were walking sticks.

But one evening Clara was standing on a stool, shelving jars of peaches in the little market Clark owned, when she dropped one and it shattered with a crash that nearly gave him a heart attack. He'd been watching, of course -- he didn't miss any sight of Clara on a stool waving that bum around -- but it still surprised him.

"What the hell, Clara!" he shouted, running over. "Those peaches cost money. Are you alright?"

"Sorry, boss," the girl said sheepishly. "It slipped. I'll clean it up."

"There's glass everywhere. Be careful. We don't want customers coming in tomorrow and getting cut."

There were peaches and bits of glass all the way to the end of the aisle, and it took more than 30 minutes for the girl to clean it all. "Are you going to dock me wages?" she asked.

Clark was less upset now and shook his head. "No, it was an accident."

A strange look came over the girl's face and she quickly turned away. After a moment of hesitation, she turned back, her head bowed. "Sir, it wasn't an accident."

"Excuse me?"

"I swear I didn't know it was going to make such a mess or I'd never have done it."

"You dropped the jar on purpose? Whatever for?"

Blushing, Clara looked at the floor. "To... get your attention, sir. I thought if I was a little naughty, you might smack me bum and it would lead to a little fun."

Clark's jaw fell open. "You want me to smack your bum!"

"Among other things."

"Why not just ask?"

"I was trying to be clever, sir. But I'm not clever and it didn't work."

"Actually, it did. I am going to smack your bum. With a cane!"

"A cane!"

Clara's eyes went wide and he decided that she actually was rather pretty at time, if you could ignore that large Roman nose.

"A cane," he said firmly. "And I'm going to give you six strokes right across your bare bum."

He'd anticipated a lot more pushback, but to his shock she merely nodded. "Yes sir."

In the storeroom, he kept a little office and in there he'd hidden a cane he'd bought a year earlier when Carla first came to work for him. He showed it to her, long and thin and oh-so-bendy.

"That looks like it will hurt," she said forlornly.

"Intensely," he said, swishing it through the air.

"Does it have to be six?"

"It could be eight."

"Six is fine."

Clara seemed eager to get the matter over with, as she was already unfastening her jeans. She kicked off her shoes and took her pants completely off. Her panties, too. Her front was still covered with the white apron that served as a uniform. Clark thought he'd never seen anything sexier -- a half naked girl with her bare arse sticking out from her apron.

She moved to his desk and bent over, the action rounding her rump. Twin mounds of smooth white meat gleamed at him, shivering slightly, either in fear or anticipation.

Clark adjusted himself and moved forward, his cock feeling like a cricket bat in his pants. He fingered the rod, flexed it, and then raised it to gently tap the waiting cheeks. They quivered in response, like when you poke a jellyfish.

"Six strokes," he said loudly. "No getting up or putting your hands back."

"Yes sir. I know how it works."

"You... you've had the cane before?"

"Oh, many times. It's how my father punishes me."

The tense did not escape Clark's sharp ears. "You mean when you were a child."

"I still live with him, sir. I'm under his rules."

This was fascinating info and he'd have to pursue it further, but right now he had a caning to administer. He tapped the butt again, drew back the rod, and lashed it into the naked flesh with considerable force.

It was better than he'd ever dreamed. He could feel the tingle on his fingers as the rod bit into the bottom. It was completely different from his practice strokes against a cushion, which provided no resistance. Clara's butt sprang back into roundness, the cane bouncing off as though it had struck a rubber ball.

If that wasn't great enough, the girl's reaction was unbelievably hot. She tensed, her whole body stiff. Her back dipped in her anguish, making her ass curve and jut even more. Then she wiggled, a fantastic jerk of her hips. It was like watching a ripple move through water or the graceful movements of a deer. It only lasted a second and then she was still, but impressed he'd been left with was one of utter sensuality.

Across the pale skin a mark had formed where the stick had hit. It was faint and white initially, but over the span of a few seconds it turned pink and swelled. By the time a minute had elapsed, it was a decent weal, still more pink than red, but definitely raised with tramline edges.

Clark grinned and raised the cane again. The first had hit Clara about three inches down from the cleft of her ass. He placed this one just below, almost on the crown. Feeling more confident, he struck harder, and this time he heard the epic crack of the rod as it stung that magnificent bottom.

The girl yelped, her cry causing his cock to surge. Her bottom shook from side to side. Clara moaned and then let out a deep sigh. "Ooh," she said. "Ow."

"Stingy?"

"The stingiest." She jerked her hips again and Clark was forced to adjust his trousers.

This is as painful for me as for you, he thought, though he knew that wasn't literally true.

The third cut was dead center, full across the peaks of both mounds. The girl flattened herself on the desk as though she was too exhausted to stand up. She wiggled, writhed, and breathed heavily.

With three scarlet stripes encouraging him, Clark didn't wait the full minute. He struck after 30 seconds, eager to get at that underbum. Clara's arse was just fantastic there, the flesh lively and full. He brought the cane at an upward angle, digging the rod under the shelf and watching it lift the buns so they wobbled. It was glorious and he nearly came.

"Ow! Ouch ouch ouch," yelped the girl, wagging her rear as though she was putting out a fire. "You cane harder than Daddy," she said.

In his lust, all Clark heard was that he was better than the girl's father, and instead of giving her a lighter stroke, he drew the rod back behind his shoulder and really whipped it across those juicy orbs.

Clara yelled lustily, arousing her boss even more. She stayed in position, but her butt did a mad, sexy dance, driven by the pain she was feeling. Her ass jumped, bobbed, quivered, squeezed, and relaxed. Clara panted heavily.

There was one more and it was right into the crease between buttock and thigh. Naturally that was the most sensitive area and naturally Clark made it his hardest blow yet. The rod left a red streak that was deep and dark, swelling into an amazing weal the girl would feel every time she sat for the next week.

The tears came then, flowing like the Thames, but they were mostly of relief as her beating was over. She slowly rose up, her fingers tentatively exploring her steaming backside. There were six hot weals there, so sensitive the slightly touch making her cry.

"Thank you, sir," she finally said when she'd recovered her wits.

"Any time," said Clark, and he meant it. Hell, he'd shut the store down on the busiest day of the year if that's when she'd let him cane her.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, noting the vivid streaks across her bum.

"Oh sure, boss. Daddy still canes me every month or two and there's no lasting effects." She pressed against him. "Except one."

"What... what's that?" he mumbled, for she was kissing him and her hand was at his crotch, feeling his hardness.

"Spanking makes me horny as hell."

The End