Captain Lesley

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

Captain Lesley

(****, M/F, Intense, nc caning, sex)

A husband canes his wife. (Approximately 496 words. Originally published 2010-03.)

In the Korigan household, everything ran on military time. That meant punctuality. Thus Jake was not happy to note that his wife was twenty-seven minutes late for dinner. He wasn't much of a chef, but it was hard to screw up pork chops, baked potatoes, and fruit salad. Except now the food was getting cold.

Like their parents, Jake and Lesley were career military. Jake was a Lieutenant Colonel and his wife was a First Lieutenant. Correction: she's just been promoted to Captain, and while the couple had an "official" celebration at an expensive restaurant planned for the weekend, Jake had thought it'd be nice if he cooked dinner for a change. Except Lesley wasn't home and hadn't called.

At eight fifteen, Jake heated up his portion in the microwave and ate. He was growing worried. Why hadn't Lesley called? He tried her cell phone again but only got voice mail. By nine he was ready to call out the national guard when her car drove up.

Lesley bounced in. "Hi Honey! Sorry I'm late. A few of the girls insisted I go out for drinks to celebrate."

To Jake's pleasure, Lesley looked nothing like your stereotypical butch army girl. She was tall with an extremely pretty face. In fact, she'd turned down a modeling contract to join the army. Though gorgeous, it was all natural: she was a total tomboy and found makeup and dresses silly.

Jake's voice was a growl. "Why didn't you call? I was worried sick."

"Oh, my cell's battery's dead."

"Forgot to charge it again? Haven't we talked about that?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Lesley was suddenly squirming nervously, her face anxious.

"Basement. Now."

Lesley paled. She started to argue, then stopped as her military training kicked in. "Yes sir."

Downstairs, she tried to save her skin. "Jake, Honey, this isn't necessary. It won't happen again, I assure you."

"Strip."

"Jake, please!" But even as she protested, Lesley was stripping. Her voluptuous yet athletic body was soon exposed, including the prominent ass cheeks Jake loved to smack. She bent over the barrel, thrusting her buttocks high. "H-how many?"

"A dozen for going out without asking, six for not calling, and six more for failing to charge your cell phone."

Astonishment and horror. "T-t-two doz-dozen?"

Jake was a powerful man and the thrashing was military in severity. Every lash of the long rattan left thick, brutal welts across his wife's buttocks. She moaned in agony, writhing and kicking, but remained obediently in position. After a dozen her ass was crimson, and after two the flesh was livid purple. Lesley was in hideous pain when she slowly rose and saluted, tears trickling down her face and splashing across her naked breasts.

"T-thank you f-for my cor-correction, sir," she breathed.

"Lesson learned, I hope," muttered Jake.

He stripped and took his wife right there, both too eager to wait for the bedroom. Soon she was moaning for a different reason.

The End

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