Seeing her daughter’s difficulties, Jade walked across and helped to close a fastener that could only have been designed by a man. The two women laughed and Jade stepped back as Lucy picked up the crisp cotton blouse and put it on, followed by a perfectly-knotted tie. She turned momentarily to inspect her knot in the mirror, then looked back at the bed and picked up the knickers. She pulled them slowly up her legs and then over her hips and bottom, wriggling slightly to encourage a proper fit. Contrary to what she had expected, they were a remarkably close fit and surprisingly comfortable. After adjusting them, Lucy leaned forward and rested her palms on the bed.

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The tightness of the fabric on her bottom and the subtle pressures created by the much-berated design of this unfashionable garment left her with feelings with which she was not altogether familiar. Her imagination went for a few moments into the fast forward mode and then slowed down again to the scene she was anticipating so eagerly……… ……… Lucy looked over her shoulder at the commanding person of Mr. Wilkinson, who was standing at her left side in her father’s study. She then turned to the right and looked, with a weak smile, at her mother, who was standing behind her, leaning against the leather armchair. Jade gave her daughter a reassuring look and the woman looked to the front and leaned over the cushion at the edge of the desk. As instructed, she lifted the hem of her skirt up and folded the garment back over her blouse, before reaching forward and folding her hands over the edge of the desk. As her eyes closed, she used this longest moment, as she waited for her punishment to start, to run back, yet again, over the incredible events of the evening.

As had been expected, their guest had arrived very punctually, dressed semi-casually in neatly-tailored and impeccably-creased cavalry twill trousers, a cream shirt with an open collar and an olive-green tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows. The deep shine from his polished brogues was not the result of any casual application of a spray, but fruit of the effort put in by a gentleman accustomed to ensuring that he was always well presented. His air was one of confidence, but not arrogance; of strength, but not aloofness; of perceptiveness, but not intrusiveness. Both ladies were deeply impressed, but the sentiment was not entirely one-way, since Mr. Wilkinson had missed more than one heartbeat when Jade had greeted him at the door, dressed in an exquisitely-tailored lilac dress in a silky fabric that moulded itself to her comfortingly rounded but perfectly-proportioned figure. The smile and direct warm gaze from Jade’s pale blue eyes that greeted him as he stepped into the house also convinced him that he had been correct in seeing Mrs. McCaskill as a very feminine woman of elegance, poise, approachability and integrity. It had, in fact, been a while before the unusual attire worn by Lucy caught his eye. Neither woman had an inkling as to the thoughts this image set in train, for he made no verbal comment, nor did he make any non-verbal response, to the sight of the woman dressed thus.

Having handed Jade a bouquet of lilies, Mr. Wilkinson reached into his pocket and took a small package out, wrapped in plain brown paper. Smiling, he handed it to Lucy, who accepted it with an enquiring look and, unable for once to suppress her feeling, opened it quickly. Inside was a paperback copy of ” Zazie dans le Métro “. Lucy smiled to herself and looked up into the boyish twinkle of Mr. Wilkinson’s dark brown eyes. She felt a slight sense of unsteadiness inside her for a moment, before breaking out into laughter as her former adjunkt explained that he felt able to give her this now that she was no longer under the correct, cold gaze of Mademoiselle Givry, who had done so much to help Lucy to near fluency in French.

” I think this will give you an insight into an area of life your previous language studies might not have revealed to you,”

Both women maintained an unflustered air that belied the reaction created by Mr. Wilkinson’s baritone voice.

The apéritifs had helped to create a relaxed atmosphere and the dinner had served not only to satisfy the gastronomic tastes of all who were enjoying it, but also prompted a stimulating conversation in which such pauses as there were could be attributed to nothing more than appreciation of the excellent table. Jade had ultimately succeeded in breaking Mr. Wilkinson’s resolve and he had succumbed to one of Spain’s finest red wines to complement a main course the likes of which he had rarely tasted.

With dinner past, as the three of them sat around the table, the conversation drifted to university days, the upheavals of leaving university and moving to higher education and the trials and tribulations of having to cope with adolescence and education at one and the same time. At Lucy’s deliberately unsubtle prompting, Jade provided Mr. Wilkinson with a drastically edited version of what had happened on her last day at university. Mr. Wilkinson wiped his mouth discreetly with his napkin and folded it before placing it on his side-plate. There was just a hint of tension in the air and Jade was about to offer coffee and a brandy as a diversion when Mr. Wilkinson sat back, raised a polite hand slightly to ask if he might have the ladies’ attention for a while and then placed both hands on the edge of the table.

There was a short pause, during which the two women exchanged glances, before Mr, Brierley rose from the table and started to walk slowly around it. He stopped behind Jade’s chair.

” I have to confess, ladies, that I had been wondering why I was invited here this evening. I can also say with complete honesty that it is a truly wonderful experience to be here and to enjoy such company and hospitality.”

His hands were on the corners of the chair back, inches from Jade’s shoulders, to the extent that she could feel his warmth behind her. At no time did he actually come into contact with her.

Jade looked straight at Lucy and fired a “we’ve been rumbled” look at her. Lucy, for her part, maintained a magnificent sense of innocent poise.

” In fact, I was beginning to raise questions in my mind when I listened to you both discussing university discipline, but it was not until I heard Jade talking about her actual experience that the penny finally dropped and the picture suddenly fell into place. So, please forgive me if I am wrong, but this is how I see what is taking place here.”

Mr. Wilkinson walked slowly round the table to Lucy’s chair and stood behind it. Again, he placed his hands at the corners of the chair back, but did not actually touch Lucy once. She froze and her former adjunkt sensed instantly that he had touched a raw nerve.

Suddenly, Lucy’s mind was racing in pure panic, since she had not been prepared for this, yet she ought to have been. Mr. Wilkinson was renowned for his insight and perception and he could see through a conspiracy with uncanny rapidity.

In slow, measured terms, Mr. Wilkinson described to the letter what the two women had cooked up between themselves outside the gastronomic sphere and they, for their part, sat in total amazement as their scheme was brought to light with almost unfaltering accuracy.

It was, however, Mr. Wilkinson’s turn to be surprised when, as he uttered his final phonetic full-stop, Lucy rose discreetly and elegantly from the chair, turned to him and locked him in her gaze.

” You may think me strange, Sir, even kinky, but I want to experience what my Mum experienced and I want you to give me that experience.”

She flushed slightly, as did Jade … and as did Mr. Wilkinson, except that his response was not quite so visible. There was another pause, of electrifying tension.

” Very well, Lucy, I will do that for you.”

Lucy did not know what to say, since she had anticipated lengthy debate, but there was none. In his matter-of-fact manner, Mr. Wilkinson explained that he could see that they had not entered into the idea lightly, that they had considered his situation as well as their own interests and that he could also understand the thinking in both women’s minds, for reasons that might become apparent at a later stage.

Jade rose from her chair, looked with pride and reassurance at Lucy and walked over to her daughter. Gently, she took her hand and led her out of the dining room.

” Arnold, would you come with us please.”

The three of them crossed the hallway and walked to an elegant doorway. Jade released her daughter’s hand, took a key from her bag and unlocked the door. She opened it and the three of them entered a fairly spacious room with very masculine décor, clearly a gentleman’s study. Jade had to struggle slightly as she explained to Mr. Wilkinson that this had been her late husband’s study and that she had left it furnished exactly as he had always enjoyed it.

Mr. Wilkinson looked around at the very pleasing room and hesitated for a moment as his own mind went back to one memorable visit to a similar room at the boarding university he had attended. He shuffled very slightly and neither of the women noticed.

” It is an extremely tasteful room, Jade. It must be a pleasure to work in here, or even to relax.”

“Oh it is, Arnold. My husband spent a great deal of his time in here and if he needed to relax, he would just open the French windows and step out into the garden.”

Mr. Wilkinson smiled and felt a great sense of being at home and at total ease with these two women in this place. He looked at the antique furnishings backing up to the jade wallpaper that ran up to the dado rail, at the extensive shelves housing volumes of various ages that were just begging to have an appreciative person browse through them.

His eye rose to the pale green-tinged cream wallpaper above the dado rail, running up to the brilliant white coving, and admired the seascape canvases that dominated the room. Jade followed her guest’s gaze with a deep sense of recognition that there was a man here who truly valued such an ambiance. Not a shallow man, nor a sensation-seeker, but a man of depth and principle. Long-dormant forces began to stir her own thoughts. Mr. Wilkinson allowed his gaze to return from the garden and into the Study, where it alighted upon a leather strap fitted with a polished walnut handle. He moved towards it very slowly and looked up at Jade.

” May I ?”

” Of course,” replied Jade, feeling the most wonderful churning sensation developing in her innermost being.

Lucy looked on with growing fascination and felt her self-control gradually slipping away and into the hands of someone she had only ever known in a university setting. An unfamiliar longing began to niggle at her inside and a totally unexpected desire to be under his total control challenged the feistiness, but also the widely-recognised maturity that normally directed her life. She was in totally unfamiliar territory and in great need of an experienced and mature guide. As it happened, there were two such people there in the room with her and her confidence in them was by no means misplaced.

Mr. Wilkinson took the handkerchief from his jacket breast pocket and wiped his hands before picking up the strap. He ran his left hand almost lovingly along the soft, pliable leather and across its three-inch width. It was quite a light implement, but with just the right balance between pliability and stiffness. He gazed intently at the fine stitching and smiled in acknowledgment of the craftsman’s skills.

In any true disciplinary setting, there is a unique atmosphere that develops, one that has transforming power over the parties who are about to play their respective roles in it. This is precisely what happened as Mr. Wilkinson’s gaze rose from the strap and looked across to the woman who was no longer trembling, but feeling a sense of near exhilaration at the imminent fulfilment of her deep longing. His eyes then moved past Lucy to her mother, whose recollections were beginning to synchronise with the scene playing before her eyes. She had begun to experience a re-awakening of a part of her that she had thought lost and consigned in memoriam with the loss of her husband.

The tone of Mr. Wilkinson’s voice assumed a magisterial quality that befitted his profession and was reminiscent, with the surrounding accouterments, of a university Study during the 1960’s. In a quiet, perfectly-controlled tone, he directed his inquiry towards Lucy :

” Miss McCaskill, may I assume you have considered your position carefully and that you have reached the conclusion that your present situation is wholly warranted? “

Lucy suppressed an overwhelming urge to rush over and fold her arms around this man and simply fixed him with her wide-eyed honest gaze.

” I have, Sir, and am ready to be dealt with as you see fit.”

Mr. Wilkinson remained totally unflustered and shifted his attention across to Jade who, by now, was standing by the leather armchair in the corner, by the bookshelves.

” Mrs. McCaskill, may I assume that I have your consent and freely-given approval in administering the punishment that Miss McCaskill wishes to experience?”

” You may, Sir.”

Jade suddenly realised how she had replied and was on the point of amending her wording when it dawned upon her that this wording reflected exactly what was in her heart and mind. She restrained herself and simply smiled.

” Very well, ladies, you have both expressed your wish that the punishment take place and have given your consent freely in this matter. We shall now proceed.”

” Lucy, take the cushion from the chair and place it at the edge of the desk, then bend forward, raise your skirt over your blouse and take hold of the far side of the desk.”

Lucy looked over her shoulder at the commanding person of Mr. Wilkinson, who was standing at her left side in her father’s study. For a second or two, she gazed at him with an expression of trust and confidence he had never before experienced in his teaching career, before picking up the cushion and walking slowly to the desk. She then turned to the right and looked, with a weak smile, at her mother, who was standing behind her, leaning against the leather armchair. Jade gave her daughter a re-assuring look and the woman looked to the front and leaned over the cushion at the edge of the desk. As instructed, she lifted the hem of her skirt back and folded the garment over her blouse, before reaching forward and folding her hands over the far edge of the desk. As she closed her eyes, she felt the gaze of both Mr. Wilkinson and her mother surrounding her with something that made her feel very safe and not a little stimulated.

The cotton of the knickers she was wearing had folded itself to the shape of her bottom, enfolding the distinct round shapes of two firm, well-muscled cheeks that eagerly awaited the unknown experience. She knew, for it had been made clear in no uncertain terms, that this was to be an experience of what she might have undergone had she attended university twenty years earlier and fallen foul of the disciplinary system. This was to be no tickling session or eroticism. This was a disciplinary spanking. Lucy felt the tension of the fabric over and down between her tightly clenched cheeks and right on to the intimate recesses of her anatomy. She moved her ankles very slightly apart, wriggled momentarily so as to achieve the most comfortable posture possible and waited patiently for the session to commence. Jade had never in her life witnessed a disciplinary session and her feelings were distinctly mixed as the preparations went ahead. She instinctively trusted Mr. Wilkinson’s intentions, since she trusted Lucy’s judgment. As it happened, she need have had no anxiety whatsoever in that area, for impropriety was the furthest thing from Mr. Wilkinson’s mind.

Jade watched as the adjunct removed his jacket, walked over to hang it on the hook at the back of the door, then turned to walk back towards the woman whose blue-clad buttocks were awaiting his attention. She focused on his confident stride and felt a slight shudder as she observed how well he had kept himself in condition.

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