3 comments/ 33506 views/ 3 favorites Alison Pt. 01 By: rapier54 Alison 1 – Inconvenience Edited by Angel Love. Angel is reliable, knowledgeable, helpful and a very quick editor. Thank you Angel, without your help and support this probably wouldn't be appearing. Chapter One - Seeking Having spent most of the afternoon window shopping in the town precinct, Alison decided to brave the chill and make her way home. It wasn't long before she regretted not visiting the ladies' toilet as the cold only served to remind her of not having had a pee since before lunchtime. Fortunately, her walk home would take her across the local park, which had a ladies' loo. Alison felt the stirrings of an urge the moment she thought about pulling down her panties and lifting her skirt, even though it was only for a bodily function. Her body was developing well, still slim with no puppy fat, breasts and bum firm, nipples pointing up rather than some of her school friends which drooped somewhat already. Her shoulder length blonde hair was natural, as evidenced by the sparse (though well-trimmed) patch of hair covering her pussy. Sex was never far from her mind, and she was longing for the day when she could see a naked man, although her main curiosity was the bit that was different. She picked up the pace a little; trying to get to the toilet as the ache was becoming uncomfortable. As she turned into the park, and spotted the building her heart sank as she saw the ladies' was shut, and felt even more desperate. Looking around for some bushes she was disappointed to find the park keeper had trimmed them already for the winter, and there was no cover to be had. As she hurried around the brick building, she noticed that the gents' were still open, and furtively looking around to see if the coast was clear, she dodged inside. Noticing that part of one wall seemed to be porcelain, and that the two cubicles were empty, she darted into the first one and shut and locked the door. Pulling down her panties, she lifted her skirt and sighed with relief as the painful pressure slipped away. Her eyes became accustomed to the gloom as she wiped herself dry, and as she stood to pull up her panties and make herself decent she noticed all the graffiti on the walls and door. Apparently, some of these men had sex with each other, arranging to meet either here or actually do it here. There was something about a BJ, which she was still trying to figure out, when she heard footsteps approaching and the door to the next cubicle closing. After a rustle of clothing it all went quiet. Alison found the silence intimidating, and was trying to decide whether to run, sneak out, or stay put until the coast was clear. Her indecision was to change her life. As the man next to her had closed his door, she noticed some movement on the adjoining wall, where a crumpled piece of toilet paper had fallen off and was now lying on the floor. While still trying to decide what to do next, she noticed the small hole, at waist height, about the size of a penny, in the wall. Intrigued by what could be seen, she dipped her head to look through. As her eye took in the limited view, she noticed a thigh, then the other, and realised she could see the man sitting there. Trying to see more, she turned her head a bit further, and could see some movement, but couldn't make it out. Just the sight of naked thighs was enough to send her pulse racing, and how close she was to the real thing. She wondered what the hole was for. Her head started to ache a little, so she drew back her head and after a few seconds, looked again. She could barely contain a gasp of fear when she saw an eye looking right back at her. She immediately panicked, believing that she would be in big trouble if caught, opened the door and ran out. A few minutes later, as her breathing steadied, she sat on a park bench and watched the toilets, to see if the man would come out. She had already decided that she had gotten away with it, no one would believe that it was her in the gents', looking through a hole, and she had already checked to see that nobody saw her coming out. Ten minutes later, she was beginning to kick herself for panicking, as the man was also guilty of looking through, and if she had stayed perhaps she would see something interesting. It occurred to her that she could actually go back in, and start again, but was afraid that the man would catch her, as she entered. She vowed to try again later, perhaps another day, when the coast was clear. The following day found Alison sitting on the same bench, watching the same place. She had dressed in loose fitting trousers and jumper, and wore a cap under which her hair was pulled up. She had decided to go in again, and this time, to look more like a man, in case she was seen from a distance. This time she would be prepared, and would keep her eye glued to the hole, so that anyone looking would think it blocked with paper. Pleased with her plan, she was waiting until it was clear, and had already had two false starts when men had gone in. Her mind was working overtime, imagining all the things that she might see, or that might happen, and the excitement, fear and anticipation were turning her insides over. Finally she judged it safe to enter, and did so, choosing this time the other cubicle. As soon as she was safely in, she began reading the graffiti again, though her attention was soon taken by a crude drawing of man kneeling behind a kneeling woman. The strange thing was, although she knew the woman was a woman (she was wearing stockings), she also seemed to have a penis. Odd. Still, perhaps the artist had been jogged or something. A short while later footsteps approached again, and she ducked down to the hole in readiness. The man who entered seemed to know nothing about the hole, as he stood right by it dropping his trousers and pants, and there for the first time was her first view of a real live prick. Alison was torn between excitement and disappointment, it was her first view, she could actually see one now, but it didn't seem to amount to much, and she wondered what all the fuss was about. Suddenly, the man stepped away, and just as she was about to rest her eye, his eye appeared at the hole. It blinked a few times, then he stood again and began to stroke his thing slowly. As Alison's breath caught, it began to get bigger, and rise until it was horizontal, and then higher. The man's eye appeared again briefly, before she saw his hand, rising and falling three or four times. Then he looked again, repeated the action, more urgently, and looked one more. It finally dawned on her what he was doing, "He wants me to stand up and show him mine!" She thought. Once again, she panicked and dashed out for the safety of the park bench, where she could innocently observe. A few minutes later, the man came out, looked around and walked off. "I've seen your thing," Alison smiled to herself as he walked away, "and you don't even know." A warm glow spread through her thighs as the excitement of her success grew. Over the course of the next week, Alison saw several more, never being caught herself. Realising that she had picked the nearest toilet to her home, and that if she was discovered, it may be by someone she knew, she decided to try further afield. She found one place with three cubicles, and enjoyed seeing two at the same time from her vantage point in the centre one, with a hole in each wall. This though was a little frightening, as either of them, she realised, could see her watching the other. Several weeks later, she had become bored with just looking, and had felt the rush of showing herself. The first time she simply pulled down her trousers and panties, stood in front of the hole for a few seconds, then ran out as quickly as possible. It was the third time she did this, that her secret was discovered. Chapter Two – Lost and Found At the age of 60 Stan had given up hope of sex with another woman. He still felt the urge, but since his wife passed away several years ago, he had no one to share it with. He took care of himself when the urge was too strong, or he couldn't sleep. As he entered the toilet not far from his home, he noticed the door to one of the cubicles was already shut. "Maybe there'll be a magazine left," he thought, hopefully. Quite often he found one that the previous owner didn't want anymore, and it was better than the embarrassment of an old man buying one, cheaper too. As he shut the door, he heard a rustling from next door, and could almost picture someone bending down for a look. "No good looking at me," he thought, "I'll just put you off." He knew that sometimes other men played with each other in here and other such places, but took no notice as he considered himself safe from them. They were only interested in other young men, or what they could find in magazines. After a minute or so, his curiosity got the better of him, and he bent forward to have a look himself. He was just in time to see the other person look away, and got an impression of blonde eyebrows and a pale blue cap. He kept looking for a few seconds, and got the same impression when the watching eye returned. "Brown eyes, blonde hair. Unusual." He thought, and was about to look away when the other person stood, pulled down their trousers and posed in front of the hole. "Now that is a young girl if I'm not mistaken," he thought with a smile, "and damn pretty she looks from here as well." Suddenly the door to the next cubicle opened, and he heard light footsteps leave the toilet. He rose and went to leave himself when he thought to himself, "I'll just have a look to see if she's left anything next door." When he looked, he got quite a nice surprise. Alison had heard the other man come in, and got bored with waiting for him to show. She decided to give him a quick flash the first time he looked before catching the bus home. She watched on tenterhooks, and as soon as she saw movement she sat back and undid the waistband on her jogging trousers. With one last look to be sure he was still watching, she stood up, pulled them down to her knees, pulled them up again, and dashed out, her trainers making very little noise. It wasn't until she stepped on the bus that she realized her wallet was missing. A bolt of fear passed right through her slim body, and as her face drained of color she realized what must have happened. Muttering apologies to the bus driver, she retraced her footsteps to the toilet in the hope that she had dropped it on the way. She was so intent on scouring the pavement she almost bumped into someone. Muttering more apologies, she continued searching, all the way to the toilet entrance. No such luck. As she searched around the doorway not wanting to step inside yet, she knew she would just have to go inside and retrieve it. "Just let it be there," she prayed to herself. "Just let it be there and I won't do this ever again. Such a stupid, wrong thing to do, no wonder this happened. It's a sign that it's wrong. I've been warned now. I'll go in there, get my wallet and it'll be all over," she thought to herself. With shallow breath and legs trembling she stepped inside. There was no one in sight as she crept in. "Thank goodness for that!" she thought to herself with a sigh, "at least I can get it and go." As she approached the far cubicle where a few minutes ago, she was already thinking about the next time. All the more reason for her shock when she turned to enter the cubicle and . . . found it empty. No wallet! "OhmyGodwhatdoidonow," she thought, realizing that she must have left it somewhere else and would have a long walk home. She searched high and low, but was aware of time passing. If a man came in, she could hardly say she was looking for her wallet. They'd lock her up and throw away the key to the padded cell. It had her money, front door key, name and address . . . "That's it," she thought. "Name and address, I'll tell the police, and they'll let me know if it's handed in. Until then, I've got to get home." Stepping outside, she again began a search of the entrance, in case it just fell out of her pocket as she left. After Stan had picked up the wallet, the first thing he did was dash outside to look for the girl. "It's probably hers," he thought. "Don't get many girls in that place." But she was nowhere to be seen. Then he looked inside to see if there was any identification. He found the name and address, and decided to hand it in. "Poor thing will probably be mortified when she realizes what's happened. Damn lucky, really," he thought. "Anybody could have picked it up. Such a silly thing to do, nice as it was, just silly." He smiled to himself as he thought, "Needs a damn good spanking, that one." As he started to make his way home, he kept an eye out for a young girl: blonde, wearing a pale blue cap and light green trousers. "Possibly plimsolls," he thought, scanning the street ahead. As he started to walk home, his imagination started playing scenes of light green trousers and panties round slim, dimpled knees, and a lovely pale naked bottom, thrust out, trembling in anticipation of a spanking, with a pretty blonde face, under a pale blue cap, looking back over her shoulder, beseechingly. In his increasingly exciting daydream, he almost bumped into someone, and she had the most alluring brown eyes. Physical contact with the object of his daydream left Stan utterly speechless. He tried to fumble for Alison's wallet in his pocket, and call to her as she moved on, eyes downcast, but just couldn't get a word out. As he finally recovered himself, a thought crossed his mind, "I've seen your little thing," he smiled, "and you don't even know it." Stan decided to follow the pretty young girl, and hand back the wallet. As he did, visions of her gratitude passed through his mind, as well as visions of her accusing him of being an old pervert. He decided to tread a little more carefully. As Alison was about to give up the search, she heard a voice asking, "Have you lost something?" She looked up to see an older man, rather tall, slightly greying hair, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. She quickly realized that she was no longer inside the toilet, so replied, "Umm, yes, I've lost my wallet. Around here somewhere." "Oh dear," said Stan "That can be a real nuisance can't it? I lost my wallet once, and the trouble I had to go too . . . " he stopped aware that he was about to ramble. "Do you live round here?" he asked She looked at him questioningly, "Why do you ask?" "Oh, no. Sorry," he smiled at her, opening his arms a little. "It's just that I do, and I haven't seen you around before. And I thought if you've lost your wallet, how will you get home, that sort of thing. Sorry if I worried you there, it's just . . . " "No, it's me who should be sorry," she replied, warming to the man. "It's just that I've had quite a shock." "Well, look, umm, there's a café across the road," said Stan, softly, leaning a little in that direction. "Come and have a coffee with me, and we'll see what can be done to help you. I'm sure we'll think of something." As Alison soon discovered her search was in vain, she agreed, already beginning to warm to this kindly man. As they sat down to coffee and biscuits, Alison turning down the offer of a biscuit, and Stan saying, "Surely such a gorgeous young thing as you isn't on a diet." Alison saying how kind he was, and Stan replying with, "What else is a gentleman to do when confronted by a maiden in distress?" They were soon laughing together and Alison began to relax. They introduced each other, and Stan asked her what brought her to this part of the world. "Oh," Alison replied, averting his eyes, "I came to see a friend, and she was out. A bit of a wasted journey, really." "Not very nice of her," replied Stan, knowing the lie before it was complete, but just tagging along for the ride. "Fancy letting you come all this way and not being there." "Oh, she didn't um, know," stammered Alison, backpedalling furiously in her mind. "It was a surprise, sort of. You see it's her birthday and um . . . " she noticed Stan looking into her eyes, almost as if he wasn't listening, almost as if he knew. She stopped in mid sentence, and with a nervous gulp, suspecting the worst, she said, "Stan, what is it, why are you looking at me like that?" "I just noticed, and was captivated, by your beautiful eyes," he replied softly, smiling. "Anyway, you were telling me about your friend's, birthday was it?" Alison spun him a story about her friend being off school, unwell, and needing to catch up on homework. Stan noticed the absence of books, but said nothing. "Anyway," said Alison with a sigh (which, Stan noticed, lifted her breasts beautifully), "This won't get me home. I wish I knew what happened to my wallet." Stan had already decided the next step. "I'll tell you what," he said, his face lighting up, "how about I go and see if the wallet has been kicked into the toilets by mistake, you never know, it might be worth a look." "No, I've, I mean it's not . . . um . . . no use really," she stammered out again, "I expect if anyone found it they've kept it." "Well, it's just across the road," he said, rising, "and if it's not there I can lend you the fare home. I expect you'll come and visit your friend soon anyway." They crossed the road, and Alison waited outside while Stan went into the toilet to see what he could find. When he came out, a minute later, he looked at her enquiringly, "Alison Whiteley?" "Yes?" she answered, guiltily. He quoted her address and when she confirmed it he handed her the wallet. "OH My!" she gasped, putting one hand to her mouth, and the other, instinctively, to cover her sex, "Where, how, but, when, where was it?" she blurted, her heart racing. "It was in one of the cubicles," he explained, handing it to her. "Behind one of the seats." He was delighted with the way she had instinctively covered herself, even fully clothed, she was a treasure. "I've no idea how it got there," he said looking at it, "Perhaps someone found it on the ground and hid it there." He looked into her eyes again, "Is it, um, intact?" "What? Oh, um . . . " she opened it. "Yes," she replied, still catching her breath. Then looking up at him and meeting his eyes, she said softly, "Yes, it's intact." Well, that appears to be that then," said Stan, wistfully. "I'll tell you what," he offered, handing her a piece of paper. "Now that I know your name and address, here's my address and telephone number. As we enjoyed such a nice cup tea, perhaps we could do it again. Perhaps next time you come, to visit your friend I mean?" Alison was getting the inkling of a cunning plan here. She looked at him with a smile that was slowly widening, and said, "I would love to come with you, for you, to um visit with you I mean." As her face reddened, he took her arm, and walked her to the bus stop. Chapter Three – Discovered Two days later, Alison was again looking through holes in the wall, and felt comfortable enough to start playing with herself while waiting for the next man. She had discovered that by simply staying put the other person left eventually, and she could choose to either satisfy herself in secret, or show herself and flee. Over the next two weeks she fell in to a pattern of this, only showing herself to what were obviously elderly men, this feeling safer and more secure. She hadn't been to the place where she met Stan, and decided to go there for a change, and perhaps pay him a visit if the pickings were slim. Dressed as usual in a loose jumper and trousers, trainers and hat, she went into the gents' where she lost her wallet when she felt the coast was clear. Quickly making herself comfortable, she pulled down her trousers and panties, and began to rub herself as she thought of the sights she would see. After two men had been in, seen, and out, she was very wet and excited. They were both erect, and seemed happy to let her look as they rubbed themselves, but weren't old enough for Alison to feel comfortable letting them see her pussy. It was just as she was deciding to go and visit Stan that an elderly man came in next door. Alison Pt. 01 Stan had been out for a walk, believing that regular exercise prevented joints seizing up and general old age setting in. Once again he slipped into the Gents' near his home to see if any magazines had been left. He noticed one of the two cubicles was engaged, and sat quietly for a minute or two, before once again looking through the hole. He saw an eye looking back, and held the gaze for a few seconds before the other person stood and showed themselves. It was clearly a girl, and probably the one he saw a couple of weeks ago! He quickly stood and flushed the toilet, before going to wait outside. As Alison stood to display her sparsely covered pussy to the older man, she heard movement from the cubicle next door and froze as the toilet flushed and she heard the man preparing to leave. She would have to wait now until the coast was clear before leaving herself. She quickly pulled up her panties and trousers, and waited for a couple of minutes before standing to leave. As Stan waited outside, he was thinking how silly she was to play such a risky game. As the seconds ticked by his mind was working on how to prevent this from getting her into serious trouble. He went back in, and taking a piece of toilet paper from the vacant cubicle, he wrote a short note and slid it under the door of the occupied one. Just as Alison was about to make a dash for it, someone else came in. She would have to wait a bit longer now. She was definitely going to go and see Stan, she was thirsty and there was, by now, something about him that she quite fancied. She was picturing in her mind the two of them, naked in his bed, with her hand wrapped round his stiff prick while he kissed her, when a piece of paper appeared under the door. She was surprised and wondered what it was, but picked it up and read the note. "You are being very silly, and may be in a lot of trouble. I shall expect you at the following address in twenty minutes or steps will be taken. Fold this into four and pass it back if you understand and will comply." Beneath this was an address, which she recognised as Stan's! She felt nervous, excited, frightened and aroused all at once, and after a short pause, she folded the note and passed it back under the door. It was quickly snatched up, and she heard footsteps leave the building. A couple of minutes later she also left, and headed for the address on the note. Stan was relieved and pleased to see the note come back, and picking it up, he quickly left for home, quietly pleased with himself that he had spared the girl all the trouble she could have found herself in. As he briskly walked home, he began having visions again of a young girl bending over a chair, with a bare bottom about to be spanked. Chapter Four – The First Visit Alison's mind was in a turmoil as she walked to the address she had first heard of only two weeks ago. Indeed it was only just over a month ago that she first started the whole thing. What on earth could Stan have meant by being in a lot of trouble? Probably he was going to tell her off and lecture her on morals and such. Though he didn't seem to be the sort to lecture. Unlike her parents who were always on about something. She smiled to herself as she remembered once at school as she was passing by the Head's office, and hearing a girl calling out as she was being caned. She had often wondered what it would be like, and the thought quite excited her except for the pain. To be told to bend over, and have some man see her nude bottom, as he caned it. Perhaps the cane would slip between her legs, and she could feel the nubbly bits as they slipped over her pussy. Perhaps he would see how turned on she was and touch her. Perhaps he would take out his prick, hard and stiff because she had excited him so much. Then he would slowly turn her round and look at her pussy with its light fuzz of downy hair and push her back onto his desk. He would then undo the buttons on her blouse, push up her bra, and feast his lustful eyes on her brazen nakedness. She realised she was walking faster to Stan's house, and tried to slow a little. It wouldn't look right if she arrived too early. There was something about him, and the whole situation that just seemed to pulse with anticipation. Stan was going to have a quick tidy of his small terraced house, and put the kettle on, but decided that first a quick wash would be in order. There would be plenty of time for a tidy as she wouldn't be arriving for quarter of an hour, probably later, if at all. Maybe she would change her mind. He had just finished a quick wash and put the kettle on when there was a knock at the door. He went to open it and there she stood. The very image of a stray waif; short, slim, loose clothing, cap, and looking very sheepish. He found his breath catching and before he could invite her in she spoke first. Alison approached the door, and had a last minute flash of nerves. What if he gets all angry? Or just gives her a stern lecture? Or starts to tell her to grow up, or . . . She decided the best way to find out, was to find out. She knocked on the door, and it was opened by Stan, looking rather stern. He just seemed to glare at her. She said rather sheepishly, "I think this is the address I've been told to come to." Stan finally recovered his composure and replied, "Yes, well, you'd better not stand there all day, come in girl, come in." He stood to one side as she stepped in, brushing past him into the narrow hallway. "Go through," he said, "You'll have to excuse the mess, I don't tidy as often as I should, living alone and so on." She went through the hallway and into a small dining room, with old furniture. There was a table and two chairs, and across from this an old sofa with a side table, piled with old papers and magazines. The carpet was clean but a little thin, and a door led through to a kitchen. Stan followed her in and gestured to a chair, "Sit down, sit down," he said, and asked if she would like a coffee. "Yes, please," she replied, pulling out a chair and sitting on it rather stiffly. He wandered into the kitchen, returning with two mugs and sat himself down on the sofa. "I was wondering when you would pay me a visit," he said, smiling, "how is your friend, the one that was ill?" "Oh, um, she's all right now," replied Alison, trying to remember what she had said last time they met. "Oh, good," he smiled. "So what is it that brings you down this way today, having a good look around? Cruising the area? Or the same as last time we met?" "Umm, well, the same as last time, just visiting my friend and um . . . " she hesitated and her voice petered out. "I expect things are different at school now from my day. What happens when you get into trouble these days, Alison?" asked Stan. "Oh, just a telling off, sometimes extra homework or a detention," replied Alison. "No more cane then?" smiled Stan. "That used to be the main punishment for us boys. Alison smiled, "I know!" she gasped, "that must have been so painful!" "Not really," mused Stan. "The teachers did it more for effect than to cause pain. They had to be seen to do something to stop rebellious pupils from disrupting the class. Sometimes it was in private, and occasionally, in front of the whole class." "No!" Alison shuddered, "how embarrassing!" "Well, mostly we were used to it, but once or twice it was interesting," Stan paused and looked at Alison. Alison, aware of a slight increase in the tension wondered what he meant by "interesting" and wasn't sure whether to ask. She took a sip of coffee, and noticed Stan watching her, and also noticed a rising heat in her loins and face, as well as a tingling in her nipples. She decided to find out more. "How do you mean, Stan, interesting?" she asked, her breath catching. "Well sometimes, the culprit had been so naughty that he was not only caned in front of the class, but with his trousers and pants down, and his shirt up," said Stan, watching carefully for Alison's reaction. She smiled awkwardly, and said, "How embarrassing. They must have hated that." Stan noticed the slight squirm she gave as she was listening, and imagining. "I remember there was one lad who seemed to enjoy it, and some others who also enjoyed his discomfort," Stan recalled. "What . . . I . . . I mean . . . um, How did they . . . " her voice trailed off. "One of the boys used to be naughty on purpose so he would be caned, " explained Stan, "and once when this was on his bare bottom in front of the class we could all see he had an erection. While the teacher was striping his bum with the cane, two other boys were busy playing with each other behind the cover of their desks. Their pricks out in the open for anyone nearby to see, except of course, the teacher." As Stan was reciting this, Alison had put her mug on the table, crossed her legs and was busily flexing her thighs to the picture of three stiff pricks in the same room, and a bottom being caned in front of lots of watching eyes. Her eyes were out on stalks and nipples as hard as she could remember. "W . . . what happ . . . ," she swallowed nervously, "what happened then?" Stan continued, becoming surer of Alison's future compliance, "The teacher decided to extend the punishment by not allowing him the comfort of sitting on trousers and pants when he went back to his seat." Watching for the young girl's reaction he went on, "So he was made to turn and face the class," he paused, "waddle back to his seat with his trousers and pants round his ankles, and sit with his bare bottom, freshly caned on the hard wooden seat." He sat back, hands tented before him, musing, and enjoying every moment of Alison's growing excitement. "That must have looked so . . . " She was about to say sexy, but realized just in time. "So, um, so, embarrassing!" she finally managed to finish the sentence. "Not really, because he was so obviously enjoying it," answered Stan. "How do you mean?" asked Alison. "Well, as he went back to his seat, at the back of the class, past all of us boys, with his trousers and pants round his ankles, and shirt up round his chest, he had the most amazing erection which bobbed and swayed as he took each step!" explained Stan. Alison, by now was rapt in this tale, and wanted to know every detail. This would fuel her fantasies for weeks, if not months! "What about the two boys that were playing with each other?" she asked, excitedly, feeling suddenly more grown up as she had never used this term before in this context. "Oh, they had tucked themselves away while the teacher was telling the boy to return to his seat while uncovered." "Goodness!" she exclaimed, "what a story! What happened next?" Stan tried to hide a smile, certain now of his ground as he watched Alison's uncontrolled excitement, "Well, Alison, the boy decided to try and escape through the window at the back of the class, but with his trousers and pants down, he was having some trouble climbing out." Alison pictured the scene, and clasped her hands between her thighs as she waited for the answer. Stan went on, a smile escaping, "As the lad was halfway out, he felt someone pulling his leg, just as I'm pulling yours!" Alison was picturing the master grabbing the escaping boy, his naked, reddened bottom, writhing, all the class watching, then she realized. None of it was true? But it was so real in her mind! She was so turned on by it, surely . . . "You mean none of it was true?" she asked, smiling nervously. "Well, I suppose it must have been somewhere," replied Stan, "but not in my experience." "Well!" exclaimed Alison, sitting back on her seat. "You can certainly tell a story!" Stan thought for a moment, then said, "It sounds to me, Alison, that you thought he deserved it. Do you think spanking and caning should still be allowed?" "Well not in school perhaps," she replied, "because sometimes teachers just have it in for you. But I suppose it depends on how naughty you are." There was another silent moment, then Stan asked, "So what's the naughtiest thing you've ever done young lady?" Alison noticed the change in his voice, to a slightly more stern tone. "Oh, I don't know," she replied, thinking and coming up blank, "perhaps looking at presents before Christmas, and cheating on a test once." She lowered her head slightly, and looked up at him, continuing, "Nothing like whatever that boy had done!" "Would you like know what he had been doing, Alison?" asked Stan, knowing she would and seeing a way to bring his vision closer to reality. "God, yes! Whatever was it?" she responded eagerly, forgetting for the moment that it was only a story. "He had been going," said Stan, quietly, "into public toilets, looking though holes and showing himself to others." He watched carefully, as the words sunk in. "Quite deserving of at least a spanking, don't you think? Young Lady?" Alison reddened as she realised her secret was definitely out. Her excitement almost abated, but was so intense that she felt it return with a rush as she replied, "Y . . . yes, sir," with her eyes downcast, "I . . . I suppose it would." "Alison," Stan said, quietly, "I know what you were here for last time, and this time. You could really get into a scrape you know if the wrong person caught you. This isn't the nicest area to live." "I know," she replied, "but I'm careful, and besides, what can happen in a public place anyway?" "You can be caught and taken somewhere for a spanking, which is just what is about to happen. I want you to stand up, and bend over the edge of that table," said Stan, firmly, hoping she would comply. She stood, slowly, and stepped toward the table, "Do I have to?" she asked, edging nearer. "Please n . . . not too hard," she swallowed nervously as she bent over. Stan took in the smooth curve of her buttocks as her trousers stretched. "Just a mild spanking to warm you up first, I think," he said, as he stood to walk behind her. "Then a cane as I think you should receive the same as the boy in the story," he said. Alison knew this could mean on her bare bottom, and wondered how much it would hurt. She jumped with a start as she felt him touch her thigh as if electrified. As his hand ran slowly up to the curve of her bottom, across to the other, and back down to her knees she squirmed with delight. She had never felt so excited. This man could do anything to her, she was his to do with as he pleased. She squeezed her thighs together and bent her knees slightly, trying to apply more pressure to her inner sex, which was weeping for attention. "I don't think these trousers should remain, they provide too much protection," said Stan softly, as he began to caress her bottom, he could feel the outline of her panties and went on, "These panties should come down as well." As his hands slipped round to the sides of her trousers, and began to grip the waistband, she whimpered, "But that would mean a spanking, on my bare bottom!" "Of course it would. These are times of equality, surely you wouldn't expect special treatment would you?" asked Stan, taking hold of the waistband and slowly beginning to edge her trousers down over the rise of her delicious little rear. "Oh yes I would." Thought Alison. "Special treatment just like this, and more, all the way! God this feels so good!" "No, not special treatment, just um . . . ," she moaned in pleasure as she felt the trousers slip down to her knees, leaving just her panties to cover her bottom. "I think you should also be calling me Sir," said Stan, firmly, as he caressed her bottom and thighs softly. "As it is, you've already earned extra strokes for lying, and then of course the times you sneaked a look at presents and cheated on a test!" "Stroke me, stroke me!" she thought as his hands continued softly following the contours of her thighs and bottom. "But that was ages ago!" she wailed, "surely you can't include them!" "Extra strokes for arguing," said Stan as she groaned under his ministrations. "And extra strokes for forgetting to call me Sir." She squirmed and moaned with pleasure and anticipation as his fingers crept slowly beneath the legs of her panties and made contact with her bottom cheeks. "Sorry, Sir," she whispered, as his hands turned and grasped the waistband and leg hem of her panties from the insides. This had the effect of bunching them up, and pulling the crotch tightly into her hot, wet sex. She thrust out her bottom as he slowly edged them down her thighs, exposing her naked bottom, until they joined her trousers at her ankles. She knew his eyes were inches from her sex, and felt such excitement as never before. Relief was all she wanted, and the desire to touch herself was only just overcome by the shame of having him watch. "Oh God," she thought, "Even that would be exciting!" She felt his hand rest gently on her back, and the other begin smoothing over her bare behind as she wriggled in pleasure. "Keep still!" he commanded, and gave her a slap on the rear. As she gasped and cried out, he continued, alternating between cheeks, top, middle, and the crease at the top of her thighs. Her bottom was warming up, but nowhere near the heat she was feeling in her belly and between her legs. Finally he stopped, and went back to caressing her bottom and thighs again as she moaned in pleasure. "Now you must stay as you are, while I go to fetch the cane," he said, waiting for her response which failed to come. She cried out as he gave her two more surprise slaps, "Well, I'm waiting for you to answer!" "Y . . . yes, Sir, I won't move, I . . . I'll wait right here, Sir," she replied. Wanting to see what would happen next. Stan was well aware of her high state of excitement, and as he picked up a cane from the kitchen he decided to watch her for a few moments through the crack in the door. As soon as Alison heard him leave the room she dipped a hand down between her legs. Discovering just how wet she was made her gasp, which was nothing compared to the groan she let out as her fingers brushed her clitoris. She was only seconds from the biggest cum she had ever felt, unaware of Stan's watching eyes as he too rubbed his prick through his trousers. Just as Alison was about to erupt into orgasm he walked in, "What on earth do you think you're doing young girl!" he exclaimed, standing in the doorway. Alison, mortified at being caught put her hand back on the table, and made contrite apologies, saying she was just scratching an itch. "That was no itch you were scratching," said Stan, "I saw what you were doing to yourself, and you have earned yet more strokes for lying again! Now tell me what you were doing, I'll add even more every time you tell a fib." S . . . sorry, Sir. I was, I . . . " She felt so embarrassed, but considering her position, decided what the hell. "I was trying to make myself cum," she said with a sigh, "I felt so excited and sexy and hot and, and I just want to cum." "I'll make you cum," said Stan, and moving a dining chair to the centre of the room, he stood back and said, "lift up your top to your neck, hold it there, and come . . . over here and bend over the back of this chair." He watched, taking in the slim waist, small breasts with upturned, hardened nipples, jiggling as she hobbled over to the chair. With her eyes downcast she didn't notice how his gaze fell lasciviously onto her curvaceous calves and thighs, and softly haired sex, glistening with moisture even from the front. "Sometimes," he thought, "dreams, even fantasies come true." As she draped herself over the back of the chair, her blonde hair fell forward onto the seat, and she felt him hold each of her ankles in turn and place them against the legs of the chair. She felt so open and exposed, feelings of shame and humiliation were swamped by the need for more salacious happenings and gratification. Alison Pt. 01 "How many strokes do you think a naughty girl should have for exposing herself to strangers in a public place?" asked Stan, as he slowly ran the cane down her back, over her bottom and on down past her thighs to her knees and calves. "Oh, er, six? Sir," she said with a lump in her throat. "The boy in the story had at least twice that, then we have to add some for lying, cheating, lying, more fibs, and playing with yourself," commented Stan. "That must come to about 18 at least." As he began sliding the cane back up the outside of her legs, and sawed it gently across the crease where her thighs met her bottom. "Surely not as many as that!" she exclaimed in horror, looking back at him over her shoulder. He held her eyes in his, and then took in the view, this was indeed his vision come to life. "I think we'll add two more for arguing, and call it a round twenty," he said, drinking in the view of young Alison. Naked from neck to ankles, pert little bottom poking up in the air, wet pussy open to view, and just the hint of a virginal little bottom hole, puckered and waiting for later attention. "Face the front now, and I'll begin your punishment." Just as she was expecting the first sting he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "If they hurt too much, just let me know, but only if you really can't stand it." She swallowed and nodded in response, thrusting out her bottom further, and whispering, "Yes, Sir." The blows began to fall, alternating between left and right cheeks, sometimes high, sometimes middle and sometimes low, each eliciting a cry of pleasure or pain from the helpless girl. Occasionally he stopped and ran the cane over her back, bottom or thighs, and once when nearly at the end, he ran it through her legs, rubbing it softly over her pussy. She wailed in pleasure at this, as by now she existed only for orgasm. "I know how much you want to cum," said Stan, "so for being a good girl and taking your punishment I'll let you touch yourself until you do. There are only a few more strokes left, so I'll try and time the last until you are there." She dipped her hand down to her wet pussy, sought and found her wet clitoris and rubbed until she was about to cum. Her bottom was thrusting in and out, knees dipping slightly until suddenly she stiffened, took a deep breath and cried out, "Oh Stan, I'm cum . . . commmmmming. Stan, Oh Ohhhhh, I'M going to cum! Ohhhhhhh, Ohhhhh, cum . . . cummmming!" as the last two strokes fell. After a few moments, Stan helped her to the sofa, where she collapsed to recover. He sat and gazed in awe at the angel in disarray before him. As she opened her eyes briefly and met his gaze, they smiled and she closed them again. Only to be roused when he returned with a towel and a drink. Chapter Five – Later Visits It turned out that she was able to stay for the rest of the day, which they spent naked in bed, with Stan explaining many things about the male body, and even one or two about the female. He wanted to wait for the actual act of intercourse with this precious young virgin. She was barely 18 and he didn't want to scare her off. As it was there were several more visits involving stories, exposure, spanking, caning, restraint, and lots of orgasms, including the happy discovery that she was able to experience multiple orgasms. He had bought some sex toys and clothes just for their meetings, and Alison enjoyed them all. Intelligent enough to be able to indulge in role play, and open enough to try anything, they were having the time of their lives. On one memorable occasion Stan had showed her what oral sex could be like for a woman. She found it mind blowingly dirty and had a hugely powerful orgasm. When he asked her if she wanted to do the same for him she wanted to but didn't know if she could. It seemed so . . . unclean. He had an idea and tried it on her next visit. Alison decided that on her next visit, she would indeed try and give Stan some oral sex, after all he had done for her and shown her, it was the least she could do. She was in a high state of arousal for several days beforehand. When she arrived, Stan soon had her stripped naked, except for the collar they had bought her, and some sandals and ankle socks which seemed so fitting for such a chaste maiden who was actually becoming a sexual athlete. He soon found a reason to spank her, and she pleaded with him not to cane her as well. Standing her to face him, he noticed she was again touching her pussy, the way she casually gave herself pleasure was something which excited him almost as much as her. He ignored this for the moment, and gently grasping her hair at the neck he said, "If you won't take the pain your naughty bottom deserves, you are going to give your master some pleasure instead." She smiled up at him as she held his erect prick with her spare hand, masturbating the both of them at the same time. "My pleasure, master." She grinned, licking her lips. He knocked her hand away from his stiffness and began to exert some downward pressure on her neck, "Your mouth will soon be busy giving me pleasure, not back chatting," he said, with a commanding grin. Her excitement mounted, and her hand movements increased in response, "Please, Sir, no, I can't do . . . oh, no,!" she moaned as the pressure increased and she was slowly pushed to her knees, his stiff prick throbbing before her eyes. "Put it in your mouth, girl, and do it well or there will be worse to come!" he commanded, steadily easing her mouth toward him. She looked up at him, nipples erect, pussy wet, hand working away and as she let out a whimper she opened her mouth, took in his prick and came on the spot. Then with both hands holding him she licked, rubbed and sucked until he stopped her. He quickly turned to one side, and with a quick rub he too came, into his hand as she watched, feeling strangely powerful. That was the first time she had experienced what she now knew was a BJ, but it wasn't the last. It also confirmed something that they both knew anyway, Alison was the perfect submissive, because she found dominance from others a turn on, as long as she consented. Playing slave was one thing. A real slave was another. She was so glad that she had met Stan, someone she could trust, and not been caught by some other man who would have caused nothing but trouble, maybe worse. Chapter Six – Birthday Girl Alison and Stan had agreed that they would not engage in full penetration until she was nineteen, but that hadn't prevented them engaging in all sorts of sexual activity, contact and satisfaction beforehand. Alison had given him a date for her nineteenth, but the date was actually a week late. She wanted to surprise him a week early, to see the look on his face and to build more excitement. When the day dawned, she had already decided to take the day off school, and had secreted her birth certificate into her school bag to prove to Stan that they could finally do it. She could hardly sleep the night before, and had to keep her hands under the pillows to help avoid touching herself. Especially now that she had shaved herself down there, to really give Stan a treat. Her plan was to bus down to near where he lived, go into the ladies' toilet, "That would make a change!" she thought, and remove all her clothing except for panties, shoes and socks. With them folded into her bag she would walk, almost naked under her coat, to Stan's house, and once she was in, drop the coat and surprise him. All went well, and as she stood almost nude in the ladies', she had great difficulty not touching herself, such was the rush she was getting from the thought of walking out dressed as she would be, and the thought of the scene when she dropped her coat for Stan. She hadn't contacted him, wanting this to be a surprise, but had checked that on Tuesday's he was usually at home all day after an early walk. It was with butterflies and almost a feeling of dizziness that she knocked on his door and waited for him to answer . . . Stan had enjoyed his walk as usual, though he had been keen to return as he was looking forward to a rare visit from his old friend Sidney whom he had known since childhood. They had been inseparable friends, through boarding school, military service, and living close to each other thereafter. Until ill health meant Sidney had to go into a rest home for while. The home was particularly exclusive, and had many benefits, which Sidney had been enthusiastically relaying to Stan on occasional days out. The events that took place there were quite a revelation to Stan, and he was waiting for an insurance policy to mature so he could spend some time there himself. They were both enjoying a conversation about some happening in their boarding school days when a knock came at the door. Stan went to answer it, and felt several emotions when he opened the door and saw Alison. He couldn't turn her away, didn't want to, but to ask her in would risk spoiling what they had, as no one knew. He hadn't even told Sidney about her. "Don't just stand there gawking, Stan," she smiled as she squeezed past him into the hallway, I've got a nice surprise for you." As he closed the door and turned she began to undo the top button of her coat. "Alison, please stay, but I've got a friend visiting," said Stan quietly, almost in a whisper. "I haven't seen him for a while. He's in the other room." He indicated the room where they first sat and talked. "I'd love you to stay and meet him, but it may be a little awkward," his voice petered out. Alison was disappointed, but her desires were too strong to be denied now. She hoped that Stan would be able to get rid of him and she could carry out her plan, slightly amended, but it would still work. There would be no harm in being polite, he would soon go and the delay would heighten the tension even further. "Well, I could just say hello to him I suppose," she replied softly, matching Stan's whisper. "He won't be here for long will he?" She had left her top button done up, but played with it as she dipped her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes, saying, "I've got such a surprise for you, Stan." Stan was pleased that she would come in, and he thought he could avoid some embarrassment for them both if he was able to bluff it through. As they walked in, Stan introduced Alison to Sidney, saying she was a young friend who visited him sometimes, and helped with the shopping and so on. Sidney saw a slim young blonde schoolgirl, with fire in her eyes, and a slightly red face. Her coat was buttoned up tight, but her slim, shapely calves, and ankle socks led his imagination in a merry dance. He knew at once what was going on, and was pleased for his friend. He decided to stay for another five minutes and graciously leave them to it, knowing they could catch up on the latest happenings later. Alison saw another elderly man, similar in age to Stan. Shorter, a little heavier, with less hair and tanned, even now in early March. He rose to take her hand and she was astonished when his smooth dry hand lifted hers to his lips as he placed a soft kiss on the back of hers. "Enchante, mademoiselle," he growled softly, "What part of heaven did you fall from?" She reddened further and smiled back sheepishly, "Thank you, kind sir," she replied, and turned to look at Stan. "Where did you meet him? Such manners!" Stan smiled in reply, "Once an officer, always an Officer, right Sidney?" "Absolutement, Mon Capitane," replied Sidney. "Except when he's an old dog like you," joked Stan. "Wuff, wuff," came the deep, growled response from Sidney. With Sidney insisting on Alison sitting before he could, they all finally sat, Alison next to Stan on the sofa, and Sidney on a chair. "So where did you both meet?" Sidney asked Alison. She immediately reddened again and began to stammer something about visiting a friend, who was ill, and need to revise some homework, and . . . Stan rescued her, saying, "Near the café on the main road, quite convenient really wasn't it, Alison?" "Er, yes, that's right. We had a coffee together, didn't we?" she replied, picking up on his thread. "We've just been remembering some old times together. We don't get to meet too often now, but once we were inseparable, through thick and thin. Shared everything," said Stan, trying to let Alison know that this was difficult for him. "Well, nearly everything, old boy," replied Sidney. "Remember Strait Street? We went our own way in there!" "And came out our own way as well as I recall!" laughed Stan. He went on to explain that many years ago they had visited a house of ill repute and had just enough cash between them to spend time with different ladies. "I say, do you think that's the sort of thing to explain to a slip of a thing like this?" inquired Sidney. Stan explained that she enjoyed the story about the boy in school who had his leg pulled, and that she seemed to enjoy it. As Alison sat listening to them, her thighs crossed, she was swinging her upper leg slightly, putting delightful pressure on her dampening sex, unaware that the coat was beginning to fall open. Anyway, Alison, don't sit there in your coat," said Stan, standing, "let me hang it up for you. Otherwise, you'll miss it later." Alison was mortified, how could she take off her coat with Sidney here? She would have to go. Such a disappointment, but still there was always another day. As she stood, she decided to check with Stan when he would be alone again, before her "birthday" next week, and see if she could see him once more before then, that way she could still make her surprise. She stood, brushing it down, Sidney noticed her slim hands and delicate fingers, imagining them wrapped round his prick. "I only popped by to see how you were," she said, "I'll have to be getting off now anyway. I couldn't stay for long." She smiled, hoping to cause no offence. Stan was disappointed, so too was Sidney, but they could both see she was a little on edge, so with Stan saying, "If you're sure . . . " He walked into the hallway with Alison, pulling the door to a little. Once in the hallway, they embraced and kissed deeply, with Stan's hands roaming over her coat. She caressed his prick through his trousers. As their lips parted, Stan whispered breathlessly, "Wow, you're hot today! Look, it'll be all right if you want to stay, Sidney is an old and trusted friend, he won't be a problem." Alison replied, also whispering, "No, I can't take my coat off," she paused, watching his puzzled face, then undid the buttons, and slid it just off her shoulders, watching as his mouth opened in awe. Her small, firm breasts were now topped by erect nipples, and the way she was holding the coat, with her hands just behind her hips, one leg cocked, thrust them out magnificently, emphasising her slim waist, shapely legs and slightly bulging sex beneath the soft white schoolgirl panties. Stan immediately began to fondle her breasts, tickling her nipples with his fingertips, and brushing them with his nails. As she sighed softly in pleasure, her mouth opened slightly, and he bent to kiss her. As they kissed again, she fumbled with his trousers and took out his prick, holding it in her soft, slim hands. Stan couldn't stop himself, holding her neck as they kissed, and slowly easing her down to take his manhood into her mouth. As she bent from the waist, she shrugged off the restrictive coat which lay in a pile at her feet. She took him in her mouth and licked and sucked as she had learned from him, loving the way he moaned softly in delight as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back at the pleasure of it. Sidney had heard some exchanged whispers, followed by silence, then inspiring noises from the hallway. After a minute he noticed Alison's bag by the sofa. He picked it up and went to the hallway to give it to her. The view that met his eyes was quite a surprise. He could see young Alison, naked save for socks, shoes and panties, bent at the waist, with Stan's prick in her mouth. Judging by the way her head was bobbing slowly up and down, and the look of ecstasy on Stan's face, she was damn good at it. He could see slight moisture where her panties covered her pussy lips from behind, and it appeared she was not only aroused, but possibly shaven as well. He began to caress himself as he watched the scene in the hallway, and imagined her with and without sparse hair at the front of her sex, and with small, firm breasts, with erect, pink nipples. Stan soon came to his senses, remembering that Alison was naked in the next room to his friend, and dropped his head to try and lift her away. As he did, he saw his friend holding the bag and watching and they smiled at each other. He waved Sidney back, and lifted Alison back to standing again. "Alison, this won't do," he whispered, "Sidney is just in the next room, and could come through at any moment." "Oh, Stan, just as it was getting good. I can come back later today. I have an even better surprise for you, such a shame . . . " she whispered, standing there brazenly nearly nude. "He probably won't stay long, maybe another twenty minutes, half an hour at most." Whispered Stan, heavily. "God you're a wicked little treasure. I think a spanking, and caning will have to be administered to your naughty little behind, and you might even have to be tied up to receive it!" "I'll go and have a coffee, and come back in half an hour," she smiled as she replied quietly. She picked up her coat, slipped it on and left in a blur of sexual delirium. As she walked to the café, still naked under her coat, she realized how easily Sidney could have seen. The thought, "How terrible!" was instantly overcome by, "God, that would have been a turn on. Especially if he didn't know that I knew he was watching. Anyway I had panties on, that's no worse than going topless anyway." Illusions of Stan and herself in all sorts of positions floated into her head, especially when she was being "punished" with Sidney watching, unaware that she was performing for him as well. It was with great difficulty that she refrained from fondling herself right there in the café as she waited to be served. She considered going to the ladies' across the road again and taking off her panties as well, but wanted to watch Stan's face as she peeled them down and revealed her total nudity. "Nudity, even the word sounds sexy. Nude, naked, unclothed, exposed, buck naked, wow that's a good one, undressed, undraped." The words of sexual exposure were somehow so much stronger when you knew you were being watched but the watcher didn't. She would have to talk to Stan about this and see he could advise how to make it happen safely. "Dear? Hello? What would you like?" came a voice from outer space. Alison looked up, awakened from her reverie to see the lady behind the counter, looking concerned, asking (again it seemed), "What would you like, dear?" "What would I like!?" thought Alison, "Oh, um, just an, er, coffee please." She stammered, sure that the look of concern on the lady's face was now turning more stern. "If she knew what I was thinking..." thought Alison, "I wonder how stern she could be then." "60p, please." Said the lady, holding out her hand. Alison saw a hand that could certainly inflict punishment, and just managed to avoid another daydream as she turned to swing her bag from her shoulder. Her bag! Where was . . . "Oh no! Not again!" she thought, in horror. Reddening as she realised. "OhmyGodmyclothes!" "Oh, no!" she exclaimed to the lady, "never mind the coffee, sorry, I seem to have left my bag at Stan . . . Stannielle's! My friend's house!" and turning to flee, she blurted out, "Sorry, I'll be um, be back um, soon!" "Damn little scatterbrained minx," thought the lady, "I'd soon show her how not to forget things, and how not to daydream!" and promptly began to daydream herself. Alison Pt. 02 Alison 2- At the Home Edited by Angel Love. Angel is reliable, knowledgeable, helpful and a very quick editor. Thank you Angel, without your help and support this probably wouldn't be appearing. Also thank you to those who commented on the first of Alison's adventures. More will follow. Chapter One – School's Out Several months after they met, Alison and Stan were still seeing each other regularly. Now nineteen, she had taken to sex with an enthusiasm which would have shocked her parents and friends rigid. Their lovemaking was as intense as ever, and they still played games from time to time, usually Master and slave, which still fuelled and fulfilled her fantasies. Twice they had found men to witness her punishment and satisfaction, the voyeurs unaware that she knew she was being watched as she moaned and writhed in mock pain and real pleasure. Both were in a local wood. They had walked there one evening as it was starting to get dark, and not too far into the trees Stan had secured her wrists to a tree, and began teasing her with his hands and tongue as he described what was about to happen. He had got as far as raising her top, and unfastening the zip on her skirt, when they heard a car pull up nearby, followed by a door opening and closing. Stan whispered that he would go a few steps to see the path and decide whether to continue or halt. Alison knew he would be nearer to her than the path, so was happy to wait, secured and semi naked while he took a few careful steps away. Stan, leaning against a tree by a junction in the path, soon saw the stranger, a slim, middle-aged man, dressed in shorts and tee shirt, as this was a warm evening in May. When the man saw Stan, he stopped and appeared indecisive, then turned slightly and took a different direction. Stan could see he would pose no threat, possibly gay, but not looking for trouble. So he returned to Alison and told her what had happened, asking if she wanted to continue. "Well, I have been such a naughty girl again, Sir," she replied, softly, "So I suppose if my punishment is seen by another I must deserve it," she continued. Stan went on to tease out of her the imagined things she had lewdly committed, and telling her what the punishment would be as he continued to caress and strip her of her clothing. By the time she was aroused, hot and wet, her skirt in a puddle round her ankles, with her panties round her thighs, and her top secured round her bound wrists, she was in no mood to stop. Even when they heard a twig snap not too far away. Stan again asked if she wanted to continue, and as they had not heard the car from earlier pull away, they knew it was the same man from earlier. As Stan looked around, off to one side about twenty yards away, stood the middle-aged man, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. Stan informed Alison and she moaned in delight as he cupped her breasts and played with her erect nipples. Moving to one side to select a cane from the bag they had brought, Stan held out both hands to the man, indicating he should come no closer. The man nodded, and lowered his shorts to free his erection and openly begin to masturbate. As the cane fell across her naked bottom, Alison softly cried and bucked, with Stan telling her what the man was doing. She wanted to see, but didn't want the man to know she knew, so continued to lose herself in the play and excitement. After punishing her for her misdemeanours, Stan said she would have to give her Master some pleasure, but as she had been such a good girl and taken her punishment, she could have some pleasure as well. As he brought himself to full erection with one hand, he ran the cane between her thighs with the other, watching in pleasure as she began a rhythm of her own, rubbing her pussy lips along the hard slim shaft. Once erect, he stood behind her, opened her cheeks and slid into her from behind as she cried out in pleasure. They both came, she first and he soon after, and when he turned again, the man was gone. Later they talked and Alison said that she would have liked to watch what the man was doing. That the idea of her turning him on so much he would make himself cum while she watched was such a powerful feeling, but she also liked being watched while the voyeur didn't know. Stan suggested next time they arrange something. So that once she had turned them on far enough for them to begin masturbating, he could wave the man round to face her so she could pretend surprise and modesty, and be all the more excited when she watched the finish of what her sexy, naked body had started. The second time that is what happened, in the same wood, with a different man. This time, Stan left her panties pulled up until the man came around to the front, about ten feet away. She showed him her nervousness, and fear, swallowing and whimpering, as open mouthed, she looked from side to side anxiously while her panties were peeled down to her ankles, revealing to the stranger her shaven pussy as well as her firm breasts topped with erect nipples. All the while the man was masturbating furiously and came with a cry to match hers as she was being caned by Stan. She almost came herself, just from the idea of what she had made the man do, as well as the sight and sound of his pleasure. Afterwards, their lovemaking was particularly intense, with Alison and Stan lost in a frenzy of lustful coupling. So it came that school was finished, she would return no more, and had enrolled in a local college to pursue her A Levels. Stan was sad at the thought of her meeting new friends, more mature than her school friends, and resigned to the possibility of losing her soon. However, he kept this to himself, knowing it would not be fair to pressure her into restricting her life to suit his ends. Alison had her own concerns, her parents were expecting her to find employment through the long summer break, and she was unsure quite where to begin looking. Stan had suggested trying temp agencies, or small ads, but she remained indecisive. As it turned out, one of Sidney's visits opened the door to a solution that would please them both. Stan's insurance policy had matured, but lower than he had anticipated. He could now afford a stay at the Home where Sidney seemed to live, but only once, and then not for long. "The thing is, old boy," explained Sidney, "The place is just so exclusive, it is very difficult to get in at all." He went on, "As you know, they only have male guests, and even then only half a dozen at most. The benefits mean that they can't possibly advertise, nor do they need to. Word of mouth does it all, and there is quite a waiting list. They just can't have temporary guests for a week or even two. It has to be three months minimum, preferably six or more." "Such a shame," said Stan, "I had been hoping this was something we could share again, and now I feel I've let you down." "Look, it's not your fault the markets are dragging their heels, crikey, even one of the present residents is having to leave, he isn't a happy chappy I can tell you!" "How long has he been there?" asked Stan, feeling sorry for the man even though he didn't know him. "Just short of a year now," replied Sidney, his voice quietened as he appeared preoccupied in thought. "He usually has six months at a time, and can't afford the next one. He'll have to go to the bottom of the list, you see." He paused, deep in thought, "The thing is . . . if one renews, in advance, one can remain. However, if one's lease runs out, well out is the word." They fell silent, Stan somewhat down, and Sidney deep in thought. "There is one chap there who received an honorary stay, and I was just trying to remember how. It was, I believe, because he introduced one of the young caregivers to the Home, and once she had proved acceptable, he could stay as long as she did. Not for free, you understand, but at a much reduced rate." Stan let the words sink in. "I couldn't. Not possibly. She wouldn't. Would she? She probably would, actually," he smiled. "Well, look Sidney, I'm still close to top of the list you say?" "Absolutement, old boy. They don't take you off the list until your turn comes, then you have a week to decide. However, in a couple of weeks poor Jeremy goes, if he can't stump up, then I believe you're next." "But you're only a guest, Sidney!" questioned Stan, "How can you know the names on the list?" Sidney smiled, a particularly oily smile, and replied, "I know one or two things about the present young administrator that she would rather be kept PQ." "Sidney!" exclaimed Stan, "That's blackmail, you old dog!" "Wuff, wuff," growled Sidney as he smiled in response. They agreed to meet in a week to reassess the situation. Chapter Two – Answer to a Maiden's Prayer A few days later, Alison again visited Stan, and while they walked along a quiet stretch of beach he inquired about her job hunting. It wasn't going well, and her parents were putting on some pressure. She was supposed to be out looking even now. He told her he had an idea, and explained about an exclusive rest home, where only wealthy old men stay, and only half a dozen at a time. It was quite a big house, with its own gardens, and exceptionally tightly run. They were sometimes looking for a caregiver or administrator and perhaps, if he could put a word in, she would be interested? Her concerns were initially that wealthy or not, although she sympathised with geriatrics, she didn't fancy the thought of escorting them to the loo all day, and cleaning up behind them when they didn't quite make it. They laughed at her apt description of the more usual caring roles, and he explained a little further. "The home is more of an escape from the humdrum of real life. All the guests needs are catered for, and though the caregivers look after any of the guests for most things, each caregiver is responsible for one guest only. The guests are men only, not that old, and quite capable of taking care of themselves. They just choose to live in an atmosphere of upstairs and downstairs, they like the idea of servants to carry out their whims." Alison readjusted her thoughts, and decided that making tea, etc. especially in a grand house wouldn't be a bad job, but replied that she did need to know more before she could accept. "Well, I could try and get you an interview, and then all your questions would be answered," suggested Stan. "How soon?" she asked. "Hopefully, in a weeks time," he replied. Sidney and Stan met, several days later, and Stan suggested that his young friend Alison might be interested in a position, if an interview could be arranged soon. "I'll get right onto it old boy," replied Sidney with enthusiasm. He remembered the episode at Stan's place a couple of months ago, and believed she would be a perfect addition to the staff. A few days later, when Alison called on Stan, he had a letter for her. Explaining it was sent to his address so she could maintain her anonymity caused her to ask, "Just what sort of place is this?" "Very exclusive," he replied, holding her chin up to look into her eyes, "and I think the perfect position for a minx such as yourself." The letter, when she opened it was on very high quality vellum, with a faint watermark that appeared to depict a young woman being whipped in front of two other men, but she couldn't be sure. It read: Dear Miss Whiteley, You have been selected for an interview at the Stag's Heaven Rest Home. A vacancy exists for the position of caregiver and we understand you may be interested. Please telephone the number at the top of the letter to confirm your attendance before midday on Monday June 18th. This is an exclusive and much sought after position, please be aware that punctuality, obedience and polite attitude are all prime requisites of this position, though none higher than complete discretion. We look forward to meeting you at the above address on Wednesday June 20th, at 2 P.M.. Yours expectantly, Miles Richards MD, FRCFP and Anne Tripp DS, FRCFP, FRCMP Proprietors and Directors. He went on to explain that he also had an appointment as a guest, and her eyes brightened as he explained he may be staying there himself for a while. They hugged and as they kissed, one thing led to another, and they were soon enjoying some comfortable positions in his bed. Chapter Three – A New Position Alison and Stan arrived at the imposing house a few minutes early, having decided to splash out on a taxi. Stan looked smart in his blazer and grey trousers, shoes highly polished and regimental tie. Alison was dressed in a pale lilac suit, the skirt just above the knees, white blouse, and sandals. Her short blonde hair, recently trimmed, fell just above her shoulders. The day was mild, and the sun just about to break through as they entered the gate, Stan having announced their arrival over the intercom. As they walked toward the house, they noticed the gardens, spacious and green, with shrubs and flowers, which were clearly well tended. Approaching the main door, they noticed that there were three floors, with windows evenly spaced and a central double door, at the top of some marble steps. Alison thought she caught some movement behind one of the windows, but wasn't sure. A young girl came out to meet them, dressed in simple black skirt, and white blouse, ankle socks and sandals. Alison thought she looked like a schoolgirl. She confirmed their names, and asked them to follow her inside and wait. The hallway was an impressive, marble floor, with Persian carpets, two wide stairways curving round to a first floor open walkway from a central position, resembling a heart. There was a chandelier and the walls were panelled and had paintings, mostly of military figures. There were single doors to the left and right, and a double door directly opposite the one they had entered. They were asked to wait in a side room, which was furnished with soft pink sofa and armchair, side table and bureau. Fresh flowers lent more color, though the walls took Alison's attention. There were several silhouettes hanging, each depicting a scene of servility or punishment. Each person depicted was sideways on, and there no sparing the blushes as it was clear that the men were well endowed and the women very shapely and naked. She adjusted her hair and straightened her collar in a mirror before sitting opposite Stan who had taken a seat in the armchair. "Nervous?" inquired Stan. "Yes, quite a bit," replied Alison, "I've never had a job interview before, and this all seems so posh and proper." "Just remember what the letter said about the important points, we've already been punctual, it just needs you now to be polite and behave yourself," he continued, smiling, "if such a thing is possible." She smiled back, hoping that just being herself would be enough, and that she would be able to tell her parents that she had at last found a job. The anticipation of that alone was causing most of the nerves, it would be so good if she could, and so disappointing if she couldn't. After a few minutes the young girl returned and asked Stan to follow her, not saying a word to Alison who continued to sit nervously for a further twenty minutes. Finally, the girl returned. She opened the door, stood in the doorway, and with her hands clasped in front of her, asked, rather haughtily, "Alison Whiteley?" Alison looked up and noticed the girl's demeanour, "Y . . . yes, that's me," she replied, trying to smile. "Follow me," said the girl, more coldly than she had asked Stan, as she turned and flounced out. Alison was on her feet in a flash, trying to keep up with the girl who was already half way up the left-hand staircase. She almost stumbled as she tried to rush up the stairs, before she could catch up the girl had disappeared round a corner. She heard a door being knocked on. Just as she saw her the girl walked into a room, and Alison heard her say, "Excuse me sir, Alison Whiteley for you." "Thank you, Maria, send her in," came a firm male voice in response. As Alison hurried to the doorway, she nearly collided with the girl, Maria, who gave her a nasty glare, and not entirely by accident stepped on her toe as she waltzed out of the room. Alison tried not to grimace in pain, and was dismayed to realize she was now looking flustered instead of cool and collected. "Good afternoon, Miss Whiteley," said the man, who she noticed was about 50, balding, and wore steel rimmed glasses. He continued, "My name is Miles Richards, and I am the Senior Principal of the Stag's Heaven Rest Home. Close the door please, Miss Whiteley. We prefer most of our discussions to be in private." She turned and closed the door, then returned to stand at the front of his desk, which she noticed, was dark mahogany, with nothing on it, save a telephone, blotter and closed file. There were two other chairs in the room, also mahogany, but neither was near the desk, and he hadn't asked her to sit so she remained standing before him. She also noticed another door, and on two of the walls there were what appeared to be cupboards, in the same dark mahogany. Mr. Richards studied her quietly for a few seconds, his hands tented before him, which increased her nervousness, but then he seemed to snap out of some thought, smiled, and asked her to bring a chair nearer the desk and, "Pray, be seated". She picked up one the chairs, which was quite heavy, and brought it nearer, but not too near his desk, then she sat, primly, on the edge of the seat, legs together, hands in her lap. Again he studied her before asking, "Miss Whiteley, before we go any further, can you tell me what you know of the Home?" "She thought for a moment before replying, "Well, Sir, only that it is very exclusive; that there are only about half a dozen guests at a time; that caregivers cater to their every need," she paused, then with a smile, "Oh, and a friend of mine, may also be staying here soon." "Quite so, my dear. Tell me," he asked again, "What do you think, cater to their every need involves?" "Well," again she thought for a moment, "things like, special dietary needs, medication, exercise, umm, that sort thing?" "And your friend, Stan? Do you cater for his every need now?" asked Mr. Richards. "Ye-e-es, and no," she hesitated, "I mean he doesn't need much of my care, he seems able to take care of himself mostly." He sighed, and looked briefly to one side, as if beginning to lose patience. Again he looked at her, and asked, a little more firmly, "Are there any of his needs which you particularly enjoy taking care of?" then more emphatically, "Young lady?" She reddened in dismay as she felt the interview was going badly, then as she sat wringing her hands, she realized what he may have meant. "Well, sir," she said nervously, "If you mean, um, er, a sex, I, I mean um, love life?" He remained silent. "Well, if you do, sir, then," she looked down and continued quietly, "We do, and yes, it is, good." "Miss Whiteley, I need you to be open, and honest with me. Not only does your position here depend on this interview and events in the first week, if you are initially accepted, but your friend's stay here will be entirely dependent on yours. If you are not acceptable, nor is he. If you leave, so will he." He paused, and then went on, "So I have been open with you, and I expect the same in return, do you understand?" She raised her head once more, her eyes shining with moisture. This was not going well. "Y-yes, sir. I think I do," she replied. "We shall see," he said, quietly, holding her eyes with his. "So tell me, Miss Whiteley, what do you think are the prime requisites of the employees of this establishment?" "Oh, yes, um," she thought for a moment, "Punctuality, polite attitude, and obedience."