The House off Finsbury Square

This story came to me recently after observing one of my fellow travellers on a train. A young woman hobbled down the corridor and sat down very slowly and carefully opposite me. I fantasised what had happened to her and this's the result.

There's some fetish content in it so if that upsets you please go elsewhere now!

All characters are over the age of 18.

*****

It was 6pm exactly as I pressed the door bell. I waited for a few seconds for the sound of a magnet buzzing to release the latch, but it didn't come.

"Strange," I thought to myself. The letter had been so specific about the time and my punctuality.

Suddenly the door swung inwards and I came face to face with a short middle aged women with a rather pudgy looking face and thin lips. She wore no makeup and her wiry grey hair was pulled back into a bun. She was dressed in a formal black suit with knee length skirt and double breasted jacket over a plain white blouse.

"Name?" She barked at me.

"Percival...Anna," I stuttered, "I mean Anna Percival," I tried to correct myself...

"Come in and wait over there."

The Dark tiled floor in the oak panelled lobby was dark and oppressive. I made my way over to the sole small oak bench and sat down. My mood darkened, affected by the old fashioned surroundings. A mechanical clock ticked slowly in the background somewhere, but otherwise there was barely a sound.

The secretary who'd let me in, went into one of the rooms off the lobby, so I was quite alone.

Minutes passed.

I became restless. I was determined not to lose my composure, but the whole business of not knowing why i was there, the surroundings and the fact that my partner Claire had been so insistent I attend, was preying upon me.

Another minute passed. Even though I'd stopped to go to the loo before I'd got on the tube, I was starting to feel the need to go again. I got up from the bench and made my way down the lobby, studying the small painted wooden signs that hung in the middle of each of the many doors.

None of them were toilets...

I made my way back to the bench. Just as I was about to sit down, the door closest to me burst open and a middle aged woman with a pasty complexion appeared, startling me.

"Anna Percival?"

"Yes."

"This way." The woman's manner was perfunctory to say the least, and I followed her into a room dominated by heavy mahogany furniture.

"Sit there please," she said pointing at an armless wooden chair in front of a large wooden desk.

I sat down. I was starting to feel quite edgy now. Everything that had happened so far seemed to be designed to make me feel that I'd done something wrong, and I didn't know why.

The woman, who I put from the style of her clothes and the look of her face as mid forties, sat down opposite me. She opened up a buff folder on the desk, put on a pair of heavy framed glasses and started to read.

"My niece, Claire Bishop, has written to me about you seeking my help. I understand the two of you have been sharing a flat in East Cheam for around a year and have been indulging in intimate relations for some 6 months. Is that correct?"

"Well..er...," I hesitated.

"Is it correct?" her voice went up half an octave...

"Yes," I managed to reply without further hesitation. I locked my hands together in my lap trying to appear calm, but my insides were starting to churn with anxiety.

"Good. So let's move on to why you are here..."

"Yes please..." I was nervous now...

"Don't interrupt Ms Percival. If you do it will be to your additional cost."

Additional cost? What on earth was this woman on about I wondered, but my attention was only diverted momentarily as she went on...

"My niece has outlined to me a series of grave infractions committed by you over the time of your relationship. Although some of these have been discussed many times you have shown no intention of either mending your ways or resolving matters outstanding. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"A little," i said timidly still worried about where the conversation was heading.

"Do you really want me to spell all of these issues out Miss Percival? I would have thought you would wish to save yourself the embarrassment of some of the things my niece has brought to my attention that are detailed in this folder and in the large envelope I have in one of these drawers."

My curiosity was piqued. Over the time Claire and I had been together she had been much the dominant partner. I couldn't believe that she was angry with me. I'd done everything she'd asked of me. Yes, some of those things had pushed my boundaries and even embarrassed me, but as I was in a loving relationship I believed it had been important to give way to her over certain things and I'd been a loyal and loving partner.

"Yes, I'm afraid you are going to have to spell things out for me, I don't believe I've done anything particularly wrong."

"Very well young lady, but don't tell me later i didn't warn you."

I fidgeted on my seat as she drew out a large buff envelope from one of the drawers and emptied it's contents on the desk. There appeared to be a few small polythene bags and a bundle of sheets of paper which looked like prints of photographs.

The woman picked up the first piece of paper and waved it in front of me.

"I understand you are two months in arrears with the rent, and my niece has bailed you out."

I felt myself shiver.

"Yes, that is true, but it was Claire who implored with me to change my job so I no longer worked shifts. The idea was we could spend more time together, but it took rather longer than I thought it would."

"But you owe her £1500?"

"Yes, I do."

"And despite owing her all that money, you live in a slovenly manner."

"I'm sorry I'm not sure I understand what you mean?l

The woman started to spread some of the photos over the desk. As each one was revealed I was more and more shocked. It wasn't what each photo portrayed, it was the fact that Claire had deliberately aggregated it all into a pack of evidence to humiliate me.

"Do you want me to really go through every one of these photographs Miss Percival?

I mean look at them. Cigarette butts stubbed out in food, spilt wine, broken glasses, dirty underwear lying in corridors, a toilet that looks like a battalion has used it without cleaning it, and then look at this underwear Claire has sent me!"

She shook two polythene bags and two pairs of panties landed on top of the photographs.

My blood ran cold as the two small scraps fell on to the desk. I recognised them immediately and knew exactly why Claire had sent them to her Aunt.

"That's not fair," I said firmly. "They were accidents! I could not help it."

"I'm sorry Ms Percival, I'm not sure what you mean. Would you care to explain?"

"No I wouldn't! The state of my under garments is not something I'm used to discussing with complete strangers..."

"But they're not yours are they?" She retorted venomously.

I felt my cheeks starting to colour. This woman was determined to humiliate me completely, and I didn't really have much of a defence...

"No they're Claire's. You obviously know that, and you probably know that I borrowed them when we went away last weekend. We were at a wedding in Sussex, and I forgot to pack any panties myself."

"Yes, I am aware of the circumstances, but really, have you seen the state of them? Well I mean..."

"They were accidents!" I squealed. My cheeks were now burning, and I could feel my armpits moistening.

"My incontinent mother is cleaner than you are Miss Percival...!"

"That's not fair! The white lace thong I wore on Saturday night.

Claire and I fooled a bit in bed after the reception. She tied me to the four poster bed and wouldn't release me so I could go to the toilet. She made me do it!"

"You really expect me to believe that? What a sordid little tale you've invented Ms Percival, quite sordid. All I can see is a large yellow urine stain!..."

"It's the truth, I couldn't help it. She sat on my bladder!!" I could feel the tears starting to well up. I was losing my composure, and she knew it.

"And what about the unpleasant skid marks in the other pair?" To complete my utter humiliation she disdainfully inverted the blue satin hi cuts, revealing their gusset and the unpleasant secrets they held...

"We got stuck in a dreadful traffic jam on the way home outside Tonbridge. I got caught short and had to go in a field...there wasn't any toilet paper..."

I looked down into my lap, I couldn't face her any more. A tear ran down my cheek. I was utterly humiliated. Claire had done it deliberately and her Aunt was a willing co-conspirator...I felt ashamed...

"I couldn't help it." I whispered.

"And you really expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth.." More tears ran down my cheeks. I reached into my jacket pocket for a tissue and wiped them and blew my nose.

"Ms Percival, Ms Percival...stop that snivelling immediately."

I looked up at her and made an effort to dry my eyes with the tissue.

The woman picked up a pencil from the desk and tapped it against her chin as if to convey her irritation.

"Ms Percival, it's clear to me that you need to be brought to heel. My niece has expressed to me that she is very fond of you. Looking at these photographs and her stained panties I can't imagine what causes that, but I will leave that matter for now.

So the only question to answer here and now is what sort of Punishment is appropriate, and then to administer it. Once that is done I will inform my niece what has been done, and the matter is closed. Go behind that screen in the corner and strip down to your panties please. You have thirty seconds."

"But that's not fair..."

"One..two...three...four..."she counted.

I gathered myself and hurried behind the screen. There were large hooks on the dado rail, so I was clearly not the first person to have had to strip off in front of this woman. I made it back in front of her with seconds to spare inwardly cursing my selection of pantyhose for that day...

"Just in time then Ms Percival. Right, make your way over to that trestle table, drop your panties to your knees and then lean over the table and hold the far edge with your fingers."

I did as I was bid, believing that my bottom was going to be spanked. It seemed that to accept that end was my best course of action. Refusal to accept it would jeopardise my relationship with Claire. It was only as I approached the table that I saw a dark polished wooden paddle and a long cane with a curved handle lying on the table.

"Um...I don't think I deserve the paddle Ma'am and definitely not the cane...um please? I felt the tears starting to well up once more.

"Nonsense young lady. You need a short sharp punishment for your lackadaisical behaviour, so six with the paddle and six with the cane will do admirably.

Now drop those panties and lean over the table."

I'd always known that I had been blessed with a firm ripe bottom. My mother had often spoken of it as my best feature, which I was pleased about as it sort of made up for my rather small saggy breasts. I got to the table and hooked my briefs downwards to my knees. I prayed they were still clean...

As I leaned over the table, the wood struck cold on my breasts and tummy, and my generous bottom presented itself as a target...

Holding the edge of the table I looked ahead at the bookcase in front of me. One of the hardbacks had a title printed on the spine that made me shiver. It read "Corporal Punishment in the home."

I waited, unable to see what was going on behind me. There was some shuffling noises and what sounded like some clothing being removed.

A cool hand touched my fesses. I jolted with surprise...and then felt fingers running over my cheeks with firm caresses.

"You have an excellent bottom for punishment Ms Percival. I do hope it glows and marks prettily. Now part those legs a little," the hand tapped my inner thighs and I shuffled my feet apart.

The fingers now ran down my crease towards my vulva. They probed around my openings. I prayed that I was not damp...

"Rather too much hair down here for my liking," she said matter of factly. "But I know Claire has always had a preference for the natural look. She tells me the hairs trap natural odours. Personally I think they hold germs.

Now, prepare yourself..."

I barely had time to brace myself before the first swat from the paddle struck. I lurched at the impact.

"Count girl!"

"One."

Thwack. I lurched forward once more from the impact.

"Twoooo, ouch."

The pain from the two swats started to build...the tears started to fill my eyes and roll down my cheeks.

Another swat, this time harder. I yowled and stuttered "Three..."

And then a salvo of three quick hits from the paddle across both cheeks and lower down finished me off.

I collapsed, crying...

"You did not count!"

"Four Five and Six," I screeched.

"That will do I suppose," her voice was full of contempt.

I let go of the table edge and instinctively reached to comfort my poor bottom cheeks.

"Leave them alone!" The woman bellowed." and prepare yourself for worse.

I'd never been caned before that day. The white hot impact of each stroke that followed completely destroyed my resilience. I howled and cried with each stroke and reached behind to protect my poor tortured behind.

Consequently my hands and knuckles were struck at least twice with the cane and three extra strokes administered.

The woman kept up a running tirade of abuse about how pathetic I was, and how she would ensure I would never forget it.

I cried and howled in agony. I was sure she had split my skin at least once. The heat was unbearable and the pain afterwards intense...

I was quite defeated...I cried like a baby, shuddering uncontrollably.

When it was over she put the cane down beside me and inspected her handiwork with her fingers.

"Yes. Very good...nice marks...and that one will bruise beautifully." It was as if she was marking herself for her achievements. Then the fingers burrowed down between my cheeks and found my vulva once more.

"Well well, what have we here? I think I detect...yes I do, yes Ms Percival, unless you've lost control of your bladder again, I think you're aroused. My my, you little trollop..."

I lay there inert, still gently sobbing as the fingers continued to manualise my poor pussy.

And then they withdrew, and after a few seconds, I heard movements, a door open and close and silence. I was on my own.

***

Gingerly I got off the table. I felt my poor throbbing behind with my fingers. The weals were horribly sore. I was sure I could feel blood. Had the woman disfigured me for life I wondered...?

I got dressed slowly, leaving off my pantyhose. I dried my eyes, my mascara had clearly run everywhere but there was no mirror in the room to enable me to patch up my make up.

The envelope, panties and photographs were still lay on the desk. I resisted the temptation to pick them up and dispose of the evidence. My poor bottom was throbbing from the caning.

I walked gingerly to the door let myself out and set off for the station.

***