Spanking

A Voyage of Discovery

A Voyage of Discovery - A Sexy Fantasy Erotic Story on Erotica by Clohi
By Alex Birch

The frantic shouting and signalling from the bare-chested seamen indicated that, at last, the gangplank was secure and Stephanie Cameron heaved a sigh of relief. The passengers had been on board the cruise ship for two solid days and she had begun to believe she would never walk steadily on dry land again. As the ship’s passenger doors opened and the impatient queue jostled around on the deck, she quickly checked that husband Alan was right behind her, smiling as he grasped her hand in reassurance.

Stephanie looked down lovingly at the light of her life, the little six year old carved in her mother’s image who now gripped her hand tightly, then she reached down and hoisted the tot up to her hip before they joined the masses edging their way down the gangplank for their first view of this tiny Emirate so rich in oil and mineral reserves. Her adrenaline was fully charged as she reached the dockside, then she smiled at the sudden touch of her husband’s strong arm around her waist.

‘Isn’t this wonderful….?’ she said happily as the odours of the market mingled with the cries of the street hawkers and the hooting of taxi cabs, ‘….oh sweetheart, I’m so glad we came!’

Alan Cameron grinned. ‘Glad you talked me into it you mean! Yes, it’s been a wonderful trip and, thank God, Mandy has stayed so well!’

Stephanie gripped her husband’s arm and there was a wealth of emotion in the gesture. Yes she HAD talked him into it, had got him out of the rut into which their marriage had sunk without him realising it. They had been married seven years this month and, if ever there was a case of seven year itch, Stephanie Cameron was suffering from it.

She craved excitement but in her deepest soul she knew her husband would never provide it. She’d married him because he was strong, dependable and loving, qualities which at twenty two she had valued greatly and still did. It hadn’t taken long into their marriage, however, for Stephanie to realise how much wider her own horizons were,, how much more challenging and adventurous in every way. Alan’s idea of a contented life was a holiday in Cornwall each year, lunch at his mother’s on Sunday, and missionary position sex.

Sometimes Stephanie had tried to change him and he would make the effort but soon she could see it was against the grain and often did not give up. When she’d suggested a change to the weekend meals pattern he invited his mother to them, when she suggested they get a babysitter and go out more he was unhappy about leaving Mandy with strangers. Once, highly aroused after a rare party, she’d deliberately provoked him to anger hoping to satisfy an intense urge to be spanked but he’d simply gone and slept in the spare room leaving her frustrated and tearful in the bedroom. It was a dialogue of the deaf and Stephanie had begun to fray at the edges.

Eight months before this trip it had all become too much and Stephanie decided to go back to work after a long break as a wife and mother. Mandy was in school now so it was no problem but Alan had been dumbstruck by her decision and argued strongly against it. Stephanie was adamant that she was stagnating and needed a challenge thus, resurrecting her diploma, she began work once more at the age of twenty eight as an articled clerk to a young solicitor named Robert Maidment. That decision had probably saved the marriage, giving Stephanie both a morale boost and a life of her own once more.

The holiday had been her idea and even now she wondered how she’d sold it to her husband but Stephanie was revelling in the atmosphere as the family mingled with the noisy street traders selling halal food, trinkets and souvenirs, the sights and sounds such a rich cultural experience.

Holding Mandy under one arm and squeezing her husband’s hand with the other, Stephanie had rarely felt happier, able to put her long term problems aside. She stared up at Alan’s strong trusting face as they entered the main street, a sad shadow crossing her face as she recalled that one moment of shameful betrayal just three weeks before. It had not led to sex and what happened began in jest but Stephanie was haunted by guilt. She suddenly became aware that Alan was talking to her and smiled up at him as she tried to blot out the haunting memory.

They walked around the markets for half an hour or so until Mandy began to get fractious in the heat. Noticing a café, Alan, reasonable as ever, suggested taking Mandy to the café for a drink and the bathroom allowing Stephanie to finish her souvenir shopping. Gratefully she kissed him and agreed to be back at the café within thirty minutes.

Left to her own devices, Stephanie ambled around the busy market along with the hundreds of other tourists who were haggling over prices with the local street traders. Tiring of the intense heat, she turned into a shaded narrow side street where fewer people were strolling yet where a number of swarthy locals were selling jewellery and trinkets on the pavement. As she approached, Stephanie raised her hand to brush away the now familiar yells of ‘English lady you buy here.. is very cheap’ and blanked her mind to the entreaties. Her eyes lit upon a beautiful statuette, reasonably priced, and she picked it up thinking how much Robert would appreciate the souvenir. She wanted some way to thank him for saving her from madness, saving her marriage and for not exploiting what had happened in the office. Stephanie’s eyes filled with tears of remorse as her mind flashed back to a day that had started so innocently……

…..Stephanie had been alone all night as Alan was away on business and had struggled to sleep, her body needy and unfulfilled, yet she woke like someone who had OD’d on caffeine, unnaturally vibrant and alive. She’d taken Mandy to school and then driven the three miles to work in a state of high excitement. The weather was warm and she’d dressed in a short loose cotton skirt and matching blouse which accentuated her shapely breasts and bottom provocatively but she was in that kind of mood. She poked her head around Robert Maidment’s door and he looked up and smiled. His smile always made her feel good and he must have noticed the high colour in her face and the choice of sexy clothes.

‘My, my you look a million dollars today …’ he said cheerfully ‘…not after a raise I hope!’ and Stephanie smiled at his easy good humour.

‘Thank you kind sir….’ she replied, grinning ‘….no I just feel good. Does my master wish to give orders to his girl Friday before I sit down?’

Acting on some incomprehensible impulse, she walked up to his desk and stood close to the side of his chair, something she had never previously done without being invited.

‘No, not orders…’ Robert replied in a tone of mild reproach ‘…but you deserve a ticking off. You were going to post these registered letters on your way home last night, you forgetful little minx!’

Stephanie put her hand to her mouth in genuine contrition.
‘Oh no ! I’m so sorry Robert, I clean forgot. I am a naughty girl !’

His eyes twinkled as he swivelled around to look up at her and, with no intent but to continue the playful mood, replied ‘Your master has ways of dealing with naughty girls in this office !’

She began to tremble, her heart beating fast, the colour in her cheeks rising higher as sanity fled to the four winds and she replied in a whisper ‘Perhaps this naughty girl needs a practical demonstration, Robert!’ moving one step closer until her legs were touching his, almost bending over his knee. His eyes widened in surprise and desire as he saw the expression in her eyes and then everything happened as if in a dream. Stephanie felt his strong arms drawing her across his lap and she toppled forward, touching the carpet as she was bent right over, his firm hand stroking the curve of her bottom through the short thin skirt.
Trembling with excitement she told herself it would be all right, just a few joke slaps on her skirt and no harm done but then she felt her short skirt being forced upwards, his warm palm on her bare thigh eventually caressing her soft buttocks through her panties as she cried ‘Oh my God!’ with never a thought of resistance, her body responding eagerly to the touch of his hand.

Stephanie’s head reeled in confusion as she heard his excited breathing before firm hands took hold of her skimpy panties and began to pull. She raised her hips to assist his haste and felt the panties slither down to her ankles. She closed her eyes, her face scarlet as she lay across his knees, thighs apart, her bare bottom and sex completely exposed to him as he raised his hand and began to spank her hard and effectively. After a few minutes her bottom was red hot, she was moaning and writhing over his knees until the inevitable happened, her climax noisy and very obvious to both of them.

Bursting suddenly into floods of tears, Stephanie came back to earth, rolled off his lap and onto the carpet before pulling up her panties and running back into her own office where she sat for some minutes weeping like a child.

Robert left her to compose herself for a few minutes and then came into her office, his face a picture of concern, apologising for his lack of control. Stephanie found herself gripping his hand, refuting his guilt and apologising for her own behaviour, aware that she was responsible for what had happened. He told her to go home for the day, swearing that the incident would never be mentioned again and it hadn’t, enabling Stephanie to continue in her job without feeling awkward each time she looked in his eyes.
Yet she felt desperately guilty about her culpability. Ashamed that she had enjoyed every minute of it………………..

…………. ‘Lady, do you want to or not?’ The question brought Stephanie out of her reverie and she brushed the tears from her eyes. The trader seemed to be looking beyond her as she nodded and haggled for a few minutes. He seemed to concede remarkably quickly and Stephanie found herself in possession of a beautiful carving studded with, she assumed, fake jewels for next to nothing. She walked happily back toward the main street, unaware that the swarthy trader had packed up his belongings rapidly and was now running down the street in the opposite direction. She was also unaware that two police officers who had witnessed the sale had now accelerated their pace behind her and were closing fast.

Some forty minutes later, a near frantic Alan Cameron, doing his best to placate his own fears and those of his weeping daughter, was located in a café by a uniformed policeman and told that his wife was under arrest for receiving stolen property.

 

Inspector Ahmed Karim starred in ill disguised admiration at the lovely young blonde woman who sat in his office, her nervous state apparent but well controlled. When she was ushered in, he’d allowed himself the pleasure of looking her up and down, definitely approving of what he saw. From that natural blonde hair and blue eyes, the flushed pink cheeks and her sensual lips, his eyes had roamed to her firm shapely breasts and hips, taking in the curve of her bottom as she half turned to sit down, then finally to the lovely bare legs so visible through the thin cotton skirt which adorned her thighs. He tapped his pencil on the desk as he listened to her quiet nervous apology.

Having ascertained, to her relief, that the good looking young policeman spoke perfect English, Stephanie tried to salvage her situation.

‘Look, Inspector, I’m sorry I broke the law but how would I know the goods were stolen?’ she demanded plaintively.

Karim glared at her, noting with pleasure that she blushed and lowered her eyes.
‘Did you receive a leaflet from your travel company explaining the laws of our country, Mrs Cameron ..?’ he demanded, and, on a nod of her head, ‘ ….which I presume you haven’t read or you would not be in this position. I have one here, our standard instructions to tourists, and I would like you to read section 22 where you will see it reads:- “The purchase of religious icons from street vendors is a criminal offence and tourists are warned that anyone pursuing such a course will be prosecuted with the full force of the law”.

That is clear is it not, Mrs Cameron? You may consider it harsh but these people would not flourish without tourist demand. A fortune is stolen from archaeological sites every year.’

Stephanie nodded, trying to hold back the tears as she realised her plight.

‘Is my husband on his way…?’ she asked, and on receiving an affirmation ‘.. please, Inspector, what happens to me now? We’re only here for three days and I have my husband and six year old daughter to consider. She will be very upset.’

Karim nodded his head in sympathy, but spread his hands wide.

‘You must be detained at least overnight for I can do nothing now until the district magistrate arrives tomorrow to review all pending cases. Then it depends on you. If you plead ‘not guilty’ then he will have no choice but to involve the British Consul and the issue will elevate to a higher court. I must tell you that in your position that would be an unwise course for the facts are indisputable. You would have your passport taken away and detained in the country until your hearing, maybe for months. If you were then found guilty by a higher court the punishment would be far more severe. I would advise you to plead guilty to the magistrate and then it is up to him.
He may consider this a foolish oversight and impose an immediate fine which would have to be paid before you left the country or ..’ he paused as Stephanie hugged her legs together nervously ‘…he may refer it to a District Court which sits once a week. That would be an unfortunate situation, Mrs Cameron, because you would definitely miss the rest of your trip and, of course, the court may impose a short term of imprisonment. There are other possibilities too but don’t worry about those at present. I’m sure this can be resolved.’

At that moment, proceedings were interrupted by the sound of angry voices and a crying child as a policeman walked into the office and whispered in the Inspector’s ear.

‘Your husband and baby are here…’ Karim said with a smile as a glow of relief flooded Stephanie’s face ‘… now that will lift your spirits!’

Seconds later an angry Alan Cameron and a pretty little girl, obviously tired and distraught, were ushered into Karim’s office where a tirade began immediately. Alan thumped his fist on the Inspector’s desk demanding his wife’s immediate release, threatening legal action and demanding the British Consul. Stephanie clutched her husband’s hand, begging him to calm down and explaining her degree of culpability through ignorance, urging him to show restraint while the situation was so sensitive. Eventually Alan saw sense, kissed his wife passionately and clutched her hand before departing, promising to return for the hearing in the morning.

Karim had watched the exchange with some interest.
‘loves you very much…’ he said quietly when they were once more alone ‘…though I sense you are the one in control!’ then smiled as Stephanie coloured up, her big blue eyes making him tense up with desire for her.

‘You mentioned …other possibilities’ she whispered hesitantly. ‘What did you mean exactly, Inspector?’

Karim stared into her eyes, his expression grave and unwavering.
‘Though very unlikely in your case, Mrs Cameron, we do operate Sharia law reasonably strictly here so there is a slim chance of more physical retribution being brought to bear!’ he said, watching her face carefully. He saw the face flush and the body tense, her nipples hard and firm through the thin blouse as she sat upright.

‘Do..do you mean I..I might be flogged?’ Stephanie gasped and Karim nodded his head.

‘That word implies excessive cruelty…’ he replied smoothly ‘…the correct term is caned!’

‘Oh my God …’ Stephanie whispered faintly ‘…would I be…caned in public?’

‘My goodness, Mrs Cameron, I’ve already said such an outcome is unlikely in your case …’ he answered gently ‘…but if you insist on all the details I will tell you. In this country, corporal punishment is delivered with nothing more severe than a school cane. For a light sentence of no more than twenty strokes, you would be taken to the women’s prison where the sentence would be administered by a female officer in one session. If the sentence were more, say forty to one hundred strokes, then you would be detained in prison while the sentence was carried out. Twenty strokes every two weeks’

Karim, while trying to remain impassive, was obtaining great pleasure from watching the lovely young woman in front of him wriggling in her seat, her face colouring up with fear, embarrassment and….maybe something else? He pressed on.

‘So now the question you may have been too embarrassed to ask. A woman sentenced to a caning is punished on her bare buttocks across a purpose built block with hands and feet well secured. The cane hurts and it’s humiliating but it leaves no lasting injury but hopefully sufficient pain to deter further offences…but as I say, it is hardly likely to be your fate!’

Stephanie sat stunned and silent, her mind whirling with shame, fear and excitement at the sudden vivid images in her mind, hardly able to stand when Karim said ‘Come, I will take you to a reception cell where you will spend your time here. It’s not the Ritz but we will feed you well and try to make you as comfortable as possible. Don’t worry, Mrs Cameron, it will all be sorted out!’

Having visualised some rat infested dungeon, Stephanie was pleasantly surprised by her cell. Food arrived within an hour, then she was left to her solitude, boredom soon turning to tearful self pity as she thought of her husband and child, both so disturbed by her plight, and wondered how she could have been so stupid.

She lay on her bed, her thoughts suddenly turning to those moments across Robert Maidment’s knee and the shameful pleasure she’d had from having her bottom warmed so thoroughly. Her mind raced on and, to her shock, she found herself thinking about the cane and the handsome young policeman who had outlined the possibilities for her in such graphic detail. Stephanie began to imagine what a bare bottom caning would be like and how she would tolerate it. She shuddered at the thought of some repulsive female warder applying punishment but then the image became that of the young policeman, firm and decisive, branding her naked bottom with fiery stripes and, to her shock, her panties moistened rapidly.

Now she knew what to do! When the duty officer came to collect her plate she asked for an interview with Karim, and within half an hour she was once more seated in his office. The young Inspector listened to the hesitant, whispered proposal with astonishment and growing delight as Stephanie, red faced with embarrassment, threw her dignity to the four winds.

‘If I accede to this request..’ Karim whispered hoarsely ‘..then you must do exactly as I demand, Mrs Cameron. I am putting my career on the line if I do agree so I want no arguments from you!;

He pushed a sheet of paper across the table and, trembling, Stephanie signed the document admitting guilt and granting the officer absolute right to administer punishment. He rose and beckoned her to follow him down a flight of stairs to a locked room at the far end of the station away from the cell block. Karim unlocked the door and ushered her in, locking the door again behind them. She looked around and shuddered for the room containing nothing but a 3ft high trestle with a curved pommel at its apex, and a rack of canes decorating the wall. Evidently she was not the first!

‘Now take off your clothes…’ he said firmly as her mouth gaped in shock ‘… every stitch… and QUICKLY!’

Blushing deeply she began to do his bidding. Karim started with obvious approval as the blouse and skirt came off, followed by her bra, the firm breasts shapely and full, nipples already erect and engorged, then she slipped her panties off revealing the soft blonde bush and a glimpse of the deep cavern of her pussy. Obediently she faced the trestle, staring at the straps which would secure her ankles, her legs spread wide apart. How humiliating this was going to be …and yet … !! Her heart pounded as she obeyed his instructions to mount the trestle, her upper body hanging over the far side, her hips across the pommel.

Once in position, Karim secured her wrists and ankles, her lower body now a naked inverted ‘V’ with legs apart and buttocks lewdly presented for a painful initiation to the cane. He stared, dry mouthed, at the shapely white buttocks, so beautiful, so inviting. His desire was almost overwhelming.

‘Twelve strokes!’ he said loudly, his voice charged with excitement as Stephanie tensed her bottom. She heard the hiss then a burning bar of pain exploded across her buttocks and she screamed, wriggling her bottom as much as her confinement allowed. The strokes came every ten seconds and she was wriggling and howling after six, her bottom a sea of red hot anguish yet, as the caning continued, her sex began to respond shamefully and unexpectedly, her vaginal lips tingling with moisture as another burning stroke bit home.

It was only when she felt his strong arms on her hips, heard his excited breathing and felt the stiff warmth of his penis thrusting at her tight slit that she realised the caning was over and now he sought other pleasures. She would ask herself later if she’d tried to protest but then she would bury the memory in shame for, as his penis began its penetration her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a scream of pleasure as the young policeman began his rhythmic hard thrusts into her well lubricated vagina.

A telephone call to the hotel the next day brought a delighted Alan Cameron and a deliriously happy little girl to the police station, Stephanie having had the chance to sleep off the effects of her ordeal. Alan had no idea how suddenly everything had been cleared up but was too delighted to care.

He shook the Inspector’s hand warmly as Stephanie cuddled her happy daughter.

I think we owe the Inspector a debt of gratitude for his kindness, don’t you, love?’ Alan said warmly, unaware that Stephanie had stared into Karim’s eyes before turning away in shame and confusion, too full up to reply.

‘Oh on the contrary, Mr Cameron…’ Karim replied smoothly ‘… it was your wife’s willingness to cooperate which has produced such a happy outcome… more than I ever dared hope!’

END

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