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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Sheena the Cleaner
by Jonbrian (address withheld)

***

My cleaner relates her story as to her second 
punishment following her husbands failure to clean my 
office. (MF, reluc, oral, anal, spank)

***

My name is Sheena and I have been cleaning for Jonathan 
for some 7 years, looking after both his office and his 
cottage in Cheshire. I know he has related the story as 
to how he first punished me for my husbands poor work 
in his tale; Aunty Jean's Reaction (Directory 58) but 
he has now asked me to put down in writing about my 
latest experience at his hands; some months later, 
after my useless husband yet again failed to clean his 
office. This is why I am now sat in his office on a 
cushion baring my soul to your website after having 
bared my bottom, to him, an hour earlier.

It all started this morning when I received a text from 
him at eight thirty am. It was short and to the point. 
"My office is a mess again; be here tonight at 7.00pm 
you know what to expect and think on; your age will 
impact on the lesson you are about to learn! J."

My stomach had done a rapid flutter as I recalled my 
previous lesson. The afters had been wonderful but the 
starters in the form of a spanking had been rather 
unpleasant. If my memory served me right I had received 
a dozen warm up slaps followed by 27 proper smacks the 
first time. That had smarted but not enough to spoil 
the serious seeing to he had given me after. The 
mention of my age, sixty five, could mean 65 spanks or 
in deference to my age a more lenient punishment. I 
suspected the former and tried to imagine how having my 
bottom smacked 65 times would feel.

At this point I should admit that we have, over the 
intervening months managed the odd sex session at his 
cottage when I went round to clean and on one post 
coital moment he admitted how he rather fancied seeing 
me in a school uniform; no doubt due to my diminutive 
stature and rather chubby physique.

I decided therefore to try to dress in this manner to 
perhaps please him and maybe reduce my "punishment." I 
already possessed a white blouse and could borrow one 
of Jimmy's ties but needed a skirt, knee socks and 
school knickers to complete the ensemble.

Off I popped into town to see if I could source the 
missing items. My first port of call was the indoor 
market where I am pleased to say one of the stalls sold 
two of the items. As I handed over the money for a pair 
of navy blue school knickers and white knee socks I 
could feel myself colouring as I felt that the man knew 
exactly why I was buying them. Why that should be I do 
not know as I could just as easily been buying them for 
my granddaughter.

Opposite was another stall where I found the skirt and 
as I handed over my purchase for wrapping the lady who 
served me looked me straight in the eye and said; "This 
for your granddaughter, she's big for her age, still 
that seems to be the problem with the youth of today!" 
and as she handed me my parcel and change gave me a 
knowing look and said, "I hope it fits; should go well 
with the knickers and socks! Do you need a blouse and 
tie?" 

At that I hurried off home trying to hide my glowing 
face.

Fortunately Jimmy was away on a house sit, one of our 
other business enterprises, so I did not have to be too 
devious when I got back that afternoon. At about five I 
went upstairs and showered then got out my purchases 
and a blouse plus a striped tie of Jimmy's.

Firstly I put on a black bra, something I had noticed 
the younger generation seemed to favour then pulled on 
the school knickers settling the elastic round my waist 
and the top of my legs. They felt quite thick in 
comparison to my normal briefs but comfy and somewhat 
reassuring. Then the socks and blouse and finally the 
short skirt which fitted well and came to just below 
mid thigh.

Lastly I managed to tie the tie and then studied my 
self in the mirror.

For 65 I did not look bad; with my curly hair and fresh 
scrubbed face I had the look, I thought he would 
appreciate, of a cheeky schoolgirl.

Getting to the office would not be a problem as it had 
its own underground car park and lift and as cleaner I 
had my own keys. I also knew all the other staff would 
have left by then.

Putting on a long coat and some flat heeled shoes I set 
off to drive the couple of miles to the office. As I 
came into Chestergate I could see his office light on 
and noted that all the rest of the building was in 
darkness as I had expected. Parking the car I got out 
and slipping off my coat headed for the lift taking it 
to the 6th floor

By now the butterflies were doing somersaults in my 
stomach but I could also feel myself getting wet down 
below in anticipation of potential afters. Just one 
knock on his door and I entered to find him sat at his 
desk working on the computer.

Without looking up he said. "Good of you to come Mrs. 
Forwell, please get the chair and place it in the 
middle of the room opposite the mirror please, I will 
be with you shortly. So off I went and placed the guest 
chair where he had instructed me then stood meekly 
beside it waiting his pleasure.

After a moment he looked up and I saw his eyes widen 
slightly when he noticed what I was wearing. "Mmm very 
nice, very effective and I suppose you think that by 
dressing to please me it will affect the severity your 
punishment is. Well you assumed right or should I say 
wrong. I had intended, in deference to your age to only 
give you 43 smacks, some two thirds of your age but as 
you see yourself young enough to be a schoolgirl I 
shall resort to plan B and match your punishment to 
your age. Sixty five I believe."

With that he got to his feet and moved round the desk 
and slowly seated himself taking care to adjust the 
creases in his trousers. Without a word he grabbed my 
arm and unceremoniously pulled me over his lap, head 
well down, bottom raised and my legs suspended unable 
to touch the floor. Hands at the hem of my skirt and I 
feel cool air across the back of my thighs as he lifts 
it folding it high on my back exposing my knicker clad 
bottom. A hand gently caressing my cheeks through the 
thick cotton, fingers at the leg elastic and their 
crotch is being pulled high and tight between my 
cheeks, exposing my buttocks.

"Smack, smack, smack, smack." The office echoes to the 
sound of his palm slapping my exposed flesh causing my 
chubby cheeks to wobble as he spanks me. Only 4 and not 
too hard but the tingle is already starting. Another 
half dozen and this time a sharp intake of breath is 
forced from my lips. That's ten and my bottom is 
starting to sting and this is less than a sixth of what 
he has promised.

A pause as his palm strokes my behind then a rapid 
series of smacks that alternate from cheek to cheek 
causing me to squirm and wriggle to avoid his palm but 
to no avail, he is too strong and his left arm is 
pinning me firmly across his lap. 15 I count before he 
stops again.

I lay there the silence of the room emphasising my 
breathing which is coming in short sharp pants and the 
his fingers hook into the waist elastic of my blue 
school knickers and they are pulled down to just above 
my knees exposing me completely and then he speaks 
again each word accompanied by his palm cracking down 
on my defenceless bottom cheeks. 

"Your bottom is turning a nice rosy red Mrs. Forwell 
and all because your husband is a lazy no good 
layabout." Another 21

That makes 46 in all; another 19 to go but by now my 
bottom is on fire and tears sting my eyes; yet 
perversely I can feel myself getting wetter by the 
second.

I am begging him to stop to let me go promising the 
earth but the only response I get is his palm being 
applied harder and faster to my bottom which I am 
heaving about trying to escape and the tears are 
flowing now as for the first time I get to know what a 
real spanking is like, to know what my girls must have 
felt like when I used to spank and slipper them. 
Finally it stops and I am left hanging over his lap and 
for the first time I look at the mirror and see my 
self, body heaving for breath, my bottom and the tops 
of my thighs a crimson red.

It is only then that I notice something on the table 
just to the left of the chair just a few inches from my 
head. A tube of KY Jelly and I know immediately what is 
to come next.

Pass me the KY Sheena; I hope for just a moment that he 
is going to soothe my burning flesh with it but my 
wishes are cruelly shattered as first I hear the lid 
being flipped up then my cheeks are pulled roughly 
apart and I gasp as he squeezes a generous amount of 
the cold jelly directly into my anal area then releases 
my cheeks. He stands and lifts me to my feet then turns 
me and bends me over his desk and flips my skirt back 
up over my back. 

I hear him undoing his zipper and a foot taps my feet 
and I automatically spread them. Fingers open my 
buttocks and I feel the pressure of his cock head 
against my anus and I cry out as with one long deep 
thrust all 8 inches of his, oh so thick cock, are 
forced deep, deep up my arse and into my bowels until 
the front of his trousers is pressed hard against my 
burning bottom.

My hips grabbed and he begins; in and out goes his 
cock, my anal muscle flexing along it, each thrust 
opening my back passage more and more. My buggering 
this time is so vigorous so intense and I am turned on 
by the ferocity of it. I am crying out in both pain and 
passion, the pain of my spanking diminishes as he 
ignites a passion in me I have never known before. 

I feel him swelling and his thrusts get harder and 
faster and then he injects a jet of come up my arse 
before he pulls out and turns me and before I can 
protest his cock is in my mouth and he is coming and I 
am gagging and choking as his thick white juices fill 
my mouth and I have to swallow and swallow to avoid 
spilling a drop knowing he hates me to waste any of his 
come.

"Now let that be another lesson for you. I hope not to 
have repeat this as if I do we will be taking a slipper 
to that delectable backside of yours."

I am so shocked and sore that without thinking I retort 
with," You bastard, that really hurt, I will not be 
able to sit down for a week!" As soon as the words are 
out I know it had been a mistake.

Without a word he walks over to one of his cupboards 
and opens the door. Reaching in he takes something out 
and then having shut the door turns toward me.

My eyes open wide in shock. He is holding a hook 
handled cane, the sort you see in all those old Billy 
Bunter programmes. Surely he does not intend to cane 
me. 

Clearly though that is exactly his intention as he 
moves purposefully towards me than takes my arm and 
stands me facing the mirror. "Bend over Sheena and 
grasp your ankles and do not move, you are about to get 
six of the best and each time you move I will add 
another stroke. Do you understand?"

Slowly I bend over and take hold of my ankles then look 
up. In the mirror I can see everything. Me in this most 
humiliating of positions and Jonathan stood behind me 
cane flexing between his hands. I watch as he bends and 
takes the hem of my skirt which yet again he folds 
neatly over my back then moves back and stands to one 
side of me the cane now clasped in his right hand. 
Gently he taps my unprotected bottom; my knickers are 
still down round my knees. I look away. A whirring 
sound then my bottom feels as if it has been cut in two 
and the sound of bamboo on flesh fills the room. 

"Don't." his voice intones.

Automatically my hands reach round and clasp my bottom 
rubbing it trying to relieve the stinging. 

"I said no movement Sheena that is another stroke, 
dearest."

I grasp my ankles again but this time I watch him 
hoping that this will reduce the shock factor.

Up goes his arm again, a zipping noise then my bottom 
is on fire feeling as if it is being stung by a swarm 
of bees. "Ever..." Up and down goes his arm. "Call... 
Me... A... Bastard..." Each word is preceded by another 
stroke and by now my buttocks are on fire. Six of the 
best he has said and that is what I have received.

"Turn round but remain bent over and present your 
bottom to the mirror then look at yourself."

Slowly I shuffle round and gasp when I see my behind. 
The red of his spanking is now superimposed with six 
angry wheals, like tramlines equally spaced across its 
chubby flesh.

"Now for number seven and I wish you to remain like 
this watching in the mirror so you can see what happens 
to a naughty bottom."

Again he moves to one side and I flinch as he taps my 
sore flesh and watch my flesh wobble slightly. Up goes 
his arm again and as if in slow motion I see the cane 
descend and watch as my buttocks give to the bamboo and 
then as it springs back they jiggle as a seventh 
tramline instantly appears.

Tears are filling my eyes and I gasp as he picks me up 
and carries me to his desk and I cry out as he sits me 
on it before laying me back and raising my legs ceiling 
wards. 

The sound of his zip a pressure against my nether lips 
then that wonderful feeling of his huge cock sliding 
high into my cunt. Then he is fucking me hard his cock 
distending my vagina his thighs slapping against the 
sore cheeks of my behind and glancing to the side I can 
see him fucking me, see his cock as it appears and 
disappears between my legs and I come massively, 
vocally crying out for him to fuck me harder do it to 
me, shaft my cunt fill me with your come, never stop 
doing it to me and then he is pulling out and moving 
toward my head.

I open my mouth to receive him but he just comes all 
over my face and I feel each jet as it strikes my skin 
going in my eyes, into my mouth and all over my face 
and in the mirror I can see my tear stained come 
covered face and I just know I am going to have to have 
more of this man, my boss and all his kinky, painful 
but ever so satisfying ways.

This is how I found myself typing this story. Seated at 
his desk on a cushion, come leaking out of my rudely 
distended back passage, no doubt staining those naughty 
blue school knickers and the rest of his final load 
still painting my face and leaving a slightly salty 
taste in my mouth.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 61