Skirt Lifted Vol. 1 (4 page)

“Hey Uncle Marc… ah… so this is Jason?”
smiled the dark haired girl.

Jason blinked; she had to have been twenty at
least.  Her long black hair fell down in curls and framed a
heart shaped face with a tiny upturned nose.  The little
wren’s sparkling green eyes brightened seeing the two
men. However it was the girl’s cleavage that had Jason’s
notice.  Luscious tanned breasts were being held back by a
pink Nike sport’s bra.

“Jason this is Robin Coburn, daughter of an
old coworker back home.  She’s visiting for the summer from
England.”

All Jason could do was smile, he eventually
got out a “Hello, hope you’re enjoying The States.”

Robin bubbly replied: “Sure am.” She batted
her eyes.

“Robin, fetch Jason a Theakston's will you
dear.”

“Right away.”  She beamed.

Not long after Marcus, Jason, and Robin sat
down to their Shepard’s Pie.  The conversation was pleasant,
filled with a lot of talk about the strange foods the men had
eaten.  A particular story centering on pigs brain had rather
grossed out Robin, but by the end of it she had been giggling like
a schoolgirl in her endearing Manchester accent.

During the dinner Robin had gotten up to
bring things to and from the table, during which Jason enjoyed the
full view of her ass in a pair of form fitting gray track
pants.  When she bent to throw away trash Jason didn’t miss a
suggestion of panties under the taught fabric.

Once all had been cleaned up, Robin excused
herself, but before she did so, as if to remind him about something
in a tiny voice she told Marcus.  “I’ll be back down in a few
minutes.”

“Ah, yes of course.” Marcus said to
her.  “Jason lets go into the living room for a cigar.”

“Love one.” Jason clapped Marcus on his back
the whole time watching Robin exit up the stairway, her hips
swinging, oozing with sex appeal but what he was truly hooked on
was her effervescent personality not that the hot bod wasn’t a
great hook.

Handing Jason a cigar Marcus observed. “She’s
a beautiful one eh?”

“Ah” Jason hesitated.

“Don’t play dumb man, you’re attracted to
Robin.”

“You noticed?” Jason sheepishly admitted.

“Hard not to son, understandable, she’s a
proper stunner.” Marcus laughed.  “So well, you might be put
off by what’s about to happen.”

That caused Jason to do a double take, and
ask: “Huh what?”

“Robin reminded me she’s earned herself a
thrashing.” Jason didn’t say anything to that, so Marcus
continued.  “Yesterday she took my car without consent.
 Her father’s rather adamant that I maintain discipline
regarding his child, who sometimes can get herself into
trouble.  That happy go lucky personality which I see has
ensnared you my boy has been known to get Robin into all sorts of
mischief, to which a soundly caned ass has proven to be the most
effective method of correction.”

Jason just said: “Oh” but thought about it
and asked.  “Should I go? I don’t want to embarrass her.” He
realized he began to think all sorts of perverse thoughts, most
regarding that bottom under that skintight fabric and how it might
look jiggling under a cane.  More still, that he could simply
choose to watch it happen should he want.  Clearly Marcus
wasn’t rushing him off.

“Don’t go Jason” sweetly called out Robin as
she returned holding a straight yellow cane in hand.  “It’ll
be alright.”

“Well then my dear, lets get to it.” said
Marcus.

Robin nodded, and handed the cane to Marcus,
went over to where on the floor a T had been marked out in masking
tape. Toes lined up with the top of the T,  which in
width was a little less than a foot, Robin pulled her curls back,
dropped her hands down to the waistband of her track pants and
tugged the tight fabric over her hips, a lacy pink thong encased
her perfect round cheeks. Perhaps a little too slowly Robin pushed
the track pants down to her ankles, and wiggled her red painted
toes as she did so.

Watching her bend, Jason admired her full
buttocks on display.

Unhurriedly, hands moving up her legs Robin
glanced sultry over her shoulder, coyly smiled as she stood back
up.

Jason realized he had a bulge in his pants,
he also noticed that apparently he was far more self-conscious by
what was going on than even Robin, who looked to be getting
something of a thrill herself.

Lifting the waistband of her thong over her
hips Robin worked them down to her ankles and this time remained
touching her toes.

The bulge in Jason’s pants throbbed almost
beyond his control.  He looked at that perfect ass and the
fruits on display for him – he was quit dizzy, this beat a strip
club any day!

Marcus tapped the cane on that taught
buttocks, brought it back and let loose.

“Ouch! One.” Robin called out, through
clenched teeth.

Thwack!

“Two!” howled Robin.

Thwack!

“Ah!” the girl cried.

“Robin I need a count or we’ll start
again.”

“Three…” she replied breathless.

Thwack!

“Four… must I really need to take
twelve?”

“Your father’s rules, now keep in place.”

Enthralled with the merciless thrashing that
Marcus dolled out Jason was ready to explode.

“Can Jason do it?” Robin asked, sobbed.

Considering, Marcus glanced over at the young
man.  “Well I think he sure wants to thrash something… no harm
in it I suppose.” He handed the cane to Jason, who took it and
tested it in the air almost robotically.

“Go on, whip her!”

“Oh, yeah right.” Jason hardly realized that
he held the cruel rod and tapped it on the round buttocks in front
of him. And then with a surprising vigor on his part Jason
slashed the cane across Robin’s butt which produced the loudest
yowl as of yet from the girl.

“Five!” choked out Robin, now crying without
restraint.

Thwack!

“Six!” she buckled under the blows, thought
maybe she preferred Marcus thrashing her, since Jason was being
surprisingly thorough about it.  “Seven!” that caused her to
jump.

Exploring with the rod, he chose his target,
Jason let fly the last four onto her most delicate parts. 
Completing the job the young man helped the sobbing girl stand,
held her in his arms.

“I think I’ll leave you two to yourselves.”
Marcus said to the young couple as if he and Jason had not seconds
earlier been meting out corporal punishment.  “I can see you
two have a lot to talk about.”

It was good that Marcus quickly went upto his
room, for it didn’t take very long for Robin to maul Jason. 
The older man could see easily tell where all this had been
leading, at least on Robin’s part.

“Shoes off.” Ordered her stern uncle.

Tanith Cofler sighed, knelt and began to
unbuckle her shoes. She really loathed that command, as it foretold
of impending doom for her curvaceous hindquarters. When done the
tall, shapely brunette hottie neatly placed her stylish black
L.A.M.B Flavia Heels beside a carved animal foot of an antique
wingback chair that sat near an upstairs stairwell.

“Now go get the cane.”

With a gulp Tanith went over to the wall
cupboard where Uncle Callum kept his long swishy yellow cane, a
crook handled, thin, fierce instrument which never failed to leave
a young woman's ass in a pure state of heated pain. 

She should have known better than to have
brought a boy back to her room. It hadn't taken long for Tanith's
Mum to catch her last night. Stupid! Go drinking with the
girls after work, run into a cute guy and think she could get away
with bringing him back without getting noticed.

Oh Mum noticed alright, and sent the boy away
right off. After which she had informed her wayward daughter that
she'd need to call up her uncle and arrange for herself a “Proper
Toe-Curling” as Mum called it. Not long after she'd been caught
almost in the act, shirtless and down to her pink bra Tanith had
been told to ring up her Mum's elder brother and tell him that she
would like to be caned. 

Certainly she didn't want to be caned, but
these were the rules she and her widowed Mum had established. That
alone had humiliated the eighteen year-old girl, dialing up Uncle
Callum and saying: “Hey Unc, I need my ass thrashed. When
should I be over?”. He had of course responded that when she
completed her work for the day, tomorrow would be just
fine. 

 At her office job she couldn't sit
still while answering the phones. Most of the day she fidgeted and
kept touching her not yet welted bottom, safe for the time being
underneath her banded skirt, wishing that it could stay that way.
At closing time Tanith had rushed off to the bus, lest she be late
to her Uncle Callum Laird's flat in London's center. Now here she
stood, shoeless and in stockinged feet on the dark hardwood floor,
cane in-hand ready to hand it over, soon about to be soundly
thrashed.

“Skirt up, knickers down,” Callum said after
he took the cane from her, which he then bent in a full loop to
show off its dreadful whippiness. “Elbows on the seat and keep
those fingertips out, eyes front.”

Tanith began to lift her black skirt, tight,
but not so much so that the smart and stylish sheath couldn't be
hiked upward to her mid-section to then be folded out-of-the-way.
Rather snugly the skirt remained in place and framed a womanly
apple-bottom. Thumbs in the waistband of her Curvy Kate coral thong
Tanith at last slipped her knickers down past seemed French-Coffee
colored nylons and got herself into place. 

Not a very comfortable posture at that, on
her elbows, with manicured fingertips outstretched, Tanith's 32F
tits threatened to blow out of her sheer white blouse at any moment
as she struggled to maintain her bowed stance. Top heavy upper half
now much lower than her equally round generous rump.

Thrump! The cane landed almost with a
dull thud, like drumsticks which had hit on a tightly stretched
drumhead. Tanith didn't scream, instead right leg kicked up and
maroon lips jolted open while she struggled to master the sharp,
biting pain.

Thrap! That slash produced a rather
girlish grunt. 

“Ooomphf!” Tanith exhaled in a gasp.

Abortive cries came from the curvy girl after
each stroke and sure enough, Tanith's stockinged toes curled
backward in their nylon encasement. Each toe seemed to absorb the
impact of the cane as they pulled up from the hardwood floor under
her stockings.

“OW! OW! OW!” cried Tanith Cofler amidst her
mournful sniffles when Callum finally completed his task and sent
her to stand in the corner, skirt still up, and rod held under her
sore bottom cheeks, criss-crossed now with twelve, throbbing hot
purplish lines.

Groggily, Jaylin sat up in her bed, and
stretched.  She threw aside her lavender blankets, got to
her feet and felt the plush forest green carpet beneath her toes.
 She let out a long defeated sigh. Mum'd peeked into
Jaylin's room a few minutes ago, before she had went off to
shop to give her 20 year-old daughter a wake up call and
remind Jaylin that she needed to be downstairs in a timely
manner.

You see, Jaylin was in for it... that's to
say a sound thrashing awaited her downstairs.  Last night at
supper she had been engrossed with her mobile, texting her friends
about what they were going do on the weekend (a concert), mum had
warned her. "Put the mobile away, you're being rude!"

Jaylin responded with a curt reply,
mouthed-off, and rolled her big blue eyes and then returned to her
phone.  A Huge mistake, which she came to regret right away.
 Mum's response had been to inform her she'd put a
call into Callum early the next morning.

Chills, at what had now become a
nonnegotiable decision caused Jaylin to shake in her
seat.  

Callum Laird, her mother's friend and a
neighbor.  Mum had been a single-parent, a long time ago she
had struck upon the notion it was best for her daughter to have a
strong male figure in her life.  When it came time to
discipline, Callum administered it.

Jaylin had an appointment with a cane.
 Padding reluctantly down the stairs, a frown on her
face, and dressed only in steelblue lace bra and bikini
knickers decorated with little flower buds she saw what she most
dreaded.

Sure enough, just as mum had informed her
before going out for the afternoon, the crook handled cane and
slipper had been set out.  Both rested across a low
wooden framed Spanish chair which was placed beside a wall near the
floor to ceiling window that looked out over the street
of their London flat. The chair however had been turned around so
its back was out rather than flush against the white wall
as it usual would have been.

Jaylin put herself in the corner below the
stairway, hands atop her head. Dark hair draped midway down her
back and tapered between her shoulder blades, tan flesh
highlighted by steelblue lace.  Toes as close to the corner as
she could get them her perky ass tipped slightly outward,
the fabric of her panties tightened across her
lush curves.

Blue-eyes closed tight, Jaylin exhaled, not
at all looking forward to what would soon take place.
 Callum's thrashings ALWAYS hurt.  He caned
hard and rather thoroughly, a young woman came to learn that
she must behave when he was done with her.

What seemed to be many hours passed, but in
truth it had only been less than thirty-minutes.  Callum came
in, put a hand on Jaylin's back.  "So young lady.  I hear
you smarted off last night."

Jaylin swallowed, nodded, but did not turn
her nose away from the wall. "Yes sir." the answer caught in her
throat.

Callum let out a breath.  "Are you
ready?"