Heather Wilson (author)

I shall not cane you over those garments’ he said and suiting actions to his words, he first pulled her skirt over her back and then hooked his fingers under the waistband of her thong and pulled the garment down to her mid thigh
‘I had intended giving you six strokes but this piece of bravado has earned you an extra four’. 
 Helen caught her breath but pushed her bottom out even more and waited for the onslaught. She didn’t have long to wait. Out of the corner of her eye from her inverted position, she saw his arm go up and then felt the searing bite of the cane as it blazed across the centre of her bottom. The second bit deeply into her backside an inch below the first and the third cut an inch above it. He paused in his labours and watched as three angry red lines appeared across the girl’s rump. He watched as her hands came behind and held a cheek apiece, and started to knead the smarting flesh.
 ‘If you would like to be caned on the hands as well, we’ll do that in the conventional way; if not keep them away from your bottom’
Her hands flew back to her ankles as the fourth stroke caught her mainly on her right buttock and thigh as the cane tip lashed around the side. She yelped as the fifth caught the sensitive area where her bottom met her thighs, but screamed in pain as the sixth stroke landed squarely across the backs of her thighs. She clenched and unclenched her bottom cheeks as number seven and eight arrived causing her to lurch forward and into this maelstrom of agony the final two strokes targeted home; number nine diagonally on one side and ten as expected by far the hardest, diagonally on the other, the final two forming an ‘X’ in raised red welts over her throbbing bottom.
She knew better than to stand until ordered to do so and anyway strongly suspected that this would not be what he would order her to do. She was right. As she remained in position, legs apart and backside on fire she was very well aware what he would be able to see from where he was standing. She was very much aware how wet she was and how obvious it must be to him. 
And it was obvious to him because he was unzipping his fly and dropping his trousers to the floor. She shuffled forward to hold onto the shelving of the bookcase while he rubbed his erection between her legs, the end already glistening with little drops and then she felt him enter her and shortly afterwards they enjoyed a mutual and shared inner explosion. When it was over and they were resting on the settee close to the dormant fireplace, he seated and she lying on her stomach over his lap, he reached down and kissed the back of her neck and murmured into her ear
‘If you don’t apply for a teaching post at this school, when you qualify next year, Helen, then you really WILL find out what corporal punishment is all about.’
Helen rubbed her crotch seductively against his, feeling him stirring uncontrollably again, and whispered, 
‘Yes Sir!’
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