Curiosity
© 1999 Dean Andrew Michaels
All Rights Reserved.
(M/F, cons, no sex)

It all began the weekend Katie came down to visit Drew. No, in all honesty it actually started quite a bit earlier than that. Katie’s curiosity began the day Drew casually mentioned to her that he owned a cane—a real school cane. They talked about it a little, what it looked like, what it might feel like. Katie was scared but fascinated. She couldn’t stop thinking about it that night, long after she should’ve been asleep.

Her thoughts about Drew’s cane lingered into the next day at work. She imagined the sound it might make as it whistled through the air, how it would feel as it landed across her bottom. As time went on she pushed the thoughts away, but it was always there—residing somewhere where fear and excitement mingled together in her mind.

Months passed and Katie had almost forgotten about the cane, but when she arrived that Friday for her first long weekend at Drew’s house the thoughts of the cane came flooding back. She knew—even sensed—its presence. As she sat in front of the fireplace on Friday night she found herself thinking about the cane again. Just knowing it was in the house made her tremble and blush bright red and caused her heart to beat faster.

Later that evening when Katie was bare and over Drew’s lap having a good girl spanking she couldn’t help but think of the cane—of how much more sting it would have than his hand, how the lines would raise across her flesh and burn. Katie lifted up to meet his palm and she felt her bottom grow warm along with the rest of her body. As she floated to a warm, comfortable place she thought of how different it would be if she were being caned. She would be over his desk instead of his knee, still bare of course, but her panties would be dropped humiliatingly around her ankles and the hem of her pleated plaid skirt would be tucked firmly into her waistband. She could imagine the dread—shaking as she heard the whistle of the cane . . . then finally feeling its bite. The mere thought of the cane made her squirm. Katie could feel the fear build in the pit of her stomach just thinking about it, but there was something more building within her—curiosity.

The next morning at breakfast Katie worked up the courage to ask Drew to ask to see his cane. She felt her heart beat faster as he nodded and went to get it from his study. Drew left it on the dining room table and said she could look at it more closely after she finished her chores. Every once in a while Katie would steal a quick glance at the cane lying on the dining room table between them as they ate. It was about three feet long and a quarter of an inch thick with a curved handle. The cane was light brown and contrasted nicely against the oak table. It looked just like she imagined it would—a real school cane and an old one at that.

She thought about the story of how Drew had come to own it. “Was it ever used?” Katie thought to herself as she looked at it yet again through her thick eyelashes. “Is there some girl out there who has had to bend over for the cane and feel its bite? Where was that girl now and why had the previous owner left the cane behind?” It was as if the cane had been waiting patiently for Drew to come along and find it . . .

Drew had to go to the office for a while and he left Katie alone to finish her morning chores, which were mainly to do the dishes in the sink. As soon as she heard his Jeep leave the driveway she went back into the dining room and walked over to the cane. She frowned for a moment and bit her lip, then tentatively picked it up. Katie was surprised to find it was so light. She flexed it in a neat half circle and ran her hand down the length of it. All the while Katie could feel her heart pounding and her mouth grow dry.

Katie swished it though the air a couple of times and closed her eyes, imagining what it might feel like. She even walked over to the sofa in the living room and gave the pillows a couple of cuts, getting a feel of what it felt like to swing the cane. It wasn’t enough though. Katie really wanted to know what it would be like to feel it.

Closing her eyes, she brought it down on her hand. Although she knew she didn’t do it too hard, Katie still felt its bite. Taking a deep breath she brought it down harder on the back of her calf. The sting even through her jeans surprised her and Katie let out a small yelp and dropped the cane to the ground, quickly reaching down to rub her calf. “I could never survive a real caning,” Katie thought to herself as she rubbed out the sting. She tentatively picked the cane back up again and sat on the sofa. With the cane on her lap, she gingerly rubbed her calf, lost in thought . . .

Katie didn’t even hear Drew’s Jeep pull into the driveway until it was almost up to the garage. She jumped up and quickly placed the cane back on the dining room table before hurrying to the kitchen sink. Katie quickly turned on the hot water and began rinsing the dishes. He walked in before she even had the sink half full. A few minutes later she stood before him, head lowered in embarrassment. Drew had expected Katie to be long done and ready to go. She’d wasted nearly two hours daydreaming.

He crossed his arms, raised one eyebrow and quietly asked why the dishes were untouched. She had plenty of time; Katie could’ve washed the breakfast dishes ten times over in the time he’d been gone. “Just what have you been doing Princess?” he asked gently, giving her a chance to explain. Biting her lip and fidgeting she finally mumbled, “Daydreaming Drew.” “Daydreaming about what?” he asked. Katie turned red and lowered her head, shrugging her shoulders. She was far too embarrassed to tell him that she’d spent the better part of the morning fantasizing about what it would be like to bend over Drew’s desk for a taste of the cane.

Drew sighed; he’d never met a girl who was as easily sidetracked as his Katie. It wasn’t difficult to get her back on track; the problem was she seldom stayed there for long! A few minutes later Katie was over his lap in the kitchen, jeans around her ankles, plaid thong pulled taut between her cheeks. She had no idea that he had such a big spatula in the kitchen or that the lightweight plastic could sting so much! She clenched her fists and winced as he scolded her—the spatula falling on her bare bottom again and again.

Soon her legs were kicking, jeans tangled around her ankles and she was pleading for mercy and forgiveness like a little girl. This was her first naughty girl spanking of the weekend and it always startled her. As she felt the sting of the spatula across the fullest part of her cheeks she couldn’t help thinking of the cane on the table and how different it would feel. How many spanks would equal the intensity of six of the best? How much sharper would the cane feel? Just then the spatula landed in the same spot twice, causing Katie to gasp and bringing her attention back to the spanking at hand . . .

By Monday evening Katie was back at home, but her mind was still at Drew’s house. She could see the cane on the dining room table even in her dreams. No matter what Katie did she couldn't shake the thoughts of the cane from her mind.

Katie occasionally went through her rulebook, just to make sure that she would have the correct answer when questioned by Drew about “proper behavior.” He took her rules VERY seriously because they were what kept her focused and well behaved and properly motivated. As she thumbed through it she found herself looking for those infractions which would earn her a “bad girl” spanking.

In fact she looked hard to find those that she knew he would find most serious. That was easy to figure out, he had always said any behavior that put her in danger—real danger—would earn her a bad girl spanking. As important as motivation and good behavior were to Drew, Katie’s safety was the most important thing—particularly since he couldn’t watch over her all the time. The more extreme the danger, the more severe the spanking.

As she thumbed through the book she wondered if there was actually some bad girl behavior she could do that would earn her the cane. Just thinking about it brought about that now familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach and that tingle down her spine.

Katie found herself drawn to the Internet on the nights she couldn't sleep, seeking out pictures of girls who had actual cane marks. She would study the narrow red welts intently and wonder how could they ever endure such a punishment. She would lie awake for a long time after shutting off the computer and climbing into bed, seeing the cane on his dining room table, the pictures of the girls with the red welts clear in her mind. She could hear the sound of the cane whistling through the air like the wind in the trees until everything swirled together in a mass of confusion . . .

Six weeks later Katie was back in Southern California. She was in town for a week at a training conference and was staying in a hotel in Los Angeles. She planned to spend another long weekend at Drew’s place once she was finished with work. After the last day of workshops she had dinner with a couple of colleagues. She had already spoken to Drew and told him she would be heading out to his house immediately afterward to catch a late movie.

As usual Drew reminded her to be careful and to have no more than one drink since she was driving. Her rulebook was very specific about drinking. She could only have one glass of wine if she was driving—and ONLY if she was having dinner. So it was only a reflex when asked if she wanted a second glass that she had answered no. Suddenly an image of the cane flashed through her mind and she felt her face grow tremendously hot. “Wait,” she said suddenly, “I think I will have another glass of wine . . .”

A while later Katie sat cross-legged on the king sized bed in her room. She could clearly feel the effects of the third glass of wine and she was obviously in no condition to drive. She could easily call Drew and tell him that the dinner had run long, that she was tired and would catch up with him first thing in the morning. They had five whole days to spend together and she knew Drew would understand.

She sat staring at the phone. Yes she could call him and tell him that but she wouldn’t’that's not why she had ordered that second or third glass of wine. Taking a deep breath she called Drew and explained the situation, how she had drunk three glasses of wine with dinner and was in no condition to drive. Then, feeling her face flush hotly, she added a little white lie. Katie told him that she had gone as far as getting behind the wheel and driving a couple of blocks before realizing she had too much to drink and had turned back to the hotel. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she said it, biting down on her lip, her head swimming from the wine and the lie.

Katie could tell Drew was upset—furious in fact, but he was obviously relieved that she had turned around and had made it back to the hotel safely. He quietly ordered her to go straight to bed and said he would deal with her tomorrow morning. As Katie put down the phone she could feel her body tingling—she could feel the fear. She realized that the damage was done. There was no going back now, even if she wanted to. Despite the three glasses of wine she had found it hard to sleep, wondering what awaited her tomorrow. Katie had never been so disobedient before, nor had she ever told Drew a lie . . .

Drew called Katie at sunrise and told her to be at his house at 8:30 am sharp. “Make sure your uniform is neatly pressed young lady,” he said ominously. “You have a date in my study when you arrive.” Katie mumbled her assent then hung up and showered. She finished packing her bags to check out. Her crisply starched uniform was in her garment bag and with stomach churning she quickly dressed in a simple cashmere sweater and tailored slacks.

In a daze, Katie paid her bill, got into her rental car and before she knew it Katie had pulled her Mustang into Drew’s driveway. She noticed that her palms were sweating as she turned off the ignition and she simply sat in the car, looking blankly at his front door for nearly 10 minutes. Drew watched from a crack in the blinds. He knew she’d come to the door eventually.

Finally with a deep breath, Katie unfastened her seat belt and opened the car door, grabbing her bags with casualness that she in no way felt. Drew had the front door open and walked down the path to meet her, hugging her close. He then took her garment bag with her uniform in one hand and her sweaty palm in the other, leading her inside. Drew walked her back to the bedroom, hung her bag up and told her quietly to change into her uniform and meet him in his study.

Once Katie was standing in front of Drew’s desk she wished she could run out or throw her arms around him and say it was all a mistake. She couldn’t though, it was much too late. Drew had Katie recite the portion of her rulebook, which talked about drinking. She slowly, tentatively repeated it word for word, her throat feeling tighter and tighter with each line.

Then Drew gave her quite a lecture. His voice was stern, but very quiet and calm—barely above a whisper. Katie found it hard to concentrate, wondering what was in store for her for such a serious infraction of the rules. Her blush grew deeper and deeper as he continued. “Deeply disappointed . . . beyond irresponsible . . . could’ve killed yourself or someone else.” The more he talked, the less she remembered that she hadn’t actually gotten behind the wheel of her car! Katie was so ashamed, she could feel the hurt in his voice, the disapproval.

Finally Drew stopped and he told Katie that the first part of her punishment was to write out the rules regarding drinking 20 times. “Go ahead and sit down young lady and start writing.” She nodded and pulled out the chair to sit down when she stopped. It was then that she spotted it. There on the desk along with pen and paper was the cane. Katie felt her heart jump into her throat, the color draining from her face. She was numb, her hand shaking uncontrollably as she picked up the pen and began to write.

Drew began to lecture her again as she started to write. She couldn’t even hear the words anymore, the blood was rushing in her ears audibly now like the crashing surf. All she could think as she wrote out her rules over and over and over again was, “I’ve finally done it . . . REALLY done it. I’m going to actually be caned! I’m going to be caned . . . caned . . . CANED!”

Much sooner than she had hoped she found she had finished writing. She handed the paper to him with a shaky hand up to him. He glanced at the paper, not even seeing the words. “I want you to go to the bathroom now Katie. I don’t want you to have to go later,” he said simply. She felt her face grow bright red again and dropped her head with shame. Drew had never said anything like that to her before! Moving stiffly like a robot Katie found herself walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Inside the bathroom Katie glanced at herself in the mirror. She barely even recognized the girl with the terrified, wild-eyed stare looking back at her. “Oh my god,” she thought, “what have I gotten myself into? I’m going to be caned, really caned. This isn’t email or a story where I can be brave. It’s real life and my bare bottom and soon, genuine pain and tears.” She gulped and added in a tight whisper, “I want to wake up now, please let it be a dream . . . please.”

Of course it wasn’t. No matter how long she stared at the mirror she knew she was awake and she would be caned. Katie thought of the pictures she had seen—the raised welts, the thin angry red marks. “They must be painful,” she thought, “VERY painful!” She knew there was no escape—no window she could climb out of and no place to run. She couldn’t stay locked in Drew’s bathroom forever. She had to take her medicine. In a few minutes she was actually going to have to walk through that door, go across his desk and accept the cane. There was nothing she could do about it now.

She felt like crying already and the first stroke hadn’t even fallen across her bare cheeks. The fear in the pit of her stomach boiled up again and her knees grew weak. She walked over and flushed the toilet then returned to the mirror. “You can do this,” she told herself, “you can do this . . .”

Katie’s spine slowly straightened and she walked out of the bathroom and back to Drew’s study. As she turned the doorknob, she heard it through the door. “Swish! Swish! Swish!” She froze, the blood draining from her face one more time as she heard the cane. It sounded much more ominous in Drew’s hand than when she was swinging it.

Biting her lip Katie walked back into Drew’s study. He had a stern look on his face as he pointed her to the front of his desk. He stood before her and flexed the cane as he spoke. The words flowed over her, she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even see his face. All she could only see the cane in his hand.

Then the words came . . . low and clear and she heard them slice through the pounding in her head. “. . . and that young lady has earned you six of the best on the bare.” “So I’ve really done it,” she thought dimly as she felt Drew lead her to the edge of his desk, “I’ve earned a caning.”

She honestly couldn’t believe it, it was as though it was happening to another girl, one who looked like her, sounded like her, but yet wasn’t her. The girl in front of Drew was bad. She’d never been truly bad. She was a naughty girl and naughty girls got spankings. She watched the bad girl tremble and lower her eyes to the tops of her shiny black loafers.

And then suddenly they traded places. Katie was the one trembling with fear in front of Drew and the cane. She was the bad girl now, the one who had been deliberately disobedient, who had lied, and who had made Drew fear for her safety. It was the other girl who was quietly watching Katie and Drew as if it was a scene from a movie.

Katie closed her eyes as she saw herself being led to the desk and over it. Drew’s voice floated from behind her instructed Katie to grip the edge of his desk. She pressed her cheek to the cool smooth wood of his desk and closed her fingers so tightly her knuckles turned white. She felt the back of her skirt being raised and her panties being slid down to her ankles—both familiar feelings and strangely comforting.

She lay there for a long moment, her heart pounding, breath ragged. “What was he waiting for?” she wondered. All she wanted was for this to be over, no matter how bad what was to come might be. Then she heard his voice. “Can you be a good girl for me Katie or do I need to tie your hands?” Her eyes watered then and she slowly whispered that she could be good. She wanted so desperately to show him she could behave, that he could trust her again. His hand rubbed the small of her back. “That’s my girl,” he said soothingly as he lightly pressed the cane to her bottom.

She tried to steel herself for the punishment as best she could. The butterflies in her stomach turned to bats and fluttered against her. Her heart pounded uncontrollably and her legs trembled as her bottom grew taut. She was no longer scared. She was mad at herself for letting her imagination and curiosity get the best of her. If she’d only told Drew about her curiosity, but no. She had to be stubborn and do it her own foolish way and now her bottom was going to pay for what her mind had gotten her into, and pay dearly. She gasped when she felt the cold cane tap against her taunt, bare bottom a final time. She bit her lip and began to cry silently, her grip on the desk tight. The cane moved away then and she heard something then something very unfamiliar . . .

“SWISH . . . SPLAT!”

Katie let out a yelp—more in surprise than pain, but then the pain hit, white hot and burning, concentrated into one line across her cheeks. It was more than anything she had ever experienced before. Katie gripped the desk even tighter and clenched her teeth, her face contorting in pain. It took all her concentration to spit out, “One Sir!” through gritted teeth. She felt panic rise in her, she didn’t think she could take another one, let alone five more and where in the world had that ‘Sir’ come from?!

“SWISH . . . SPLAT!”

“TWOOOO Sirr!” she cried, her voice wavering and her eyes clouded with tears. Again there was a delay, then the narrow, white-hot flame of pain licking across her bottom. She felt as if the lines were already swollen. “Why did I ever do this?” she asked herself. Four more to go and Katie didn't know how would she ever get through it.

"SWWWISSHHHH . . . SPPPLLLLAAAATTTT!!!!!!!"

"THREEEEEEE, Thank you Sirrrrr!!!" Katie sobbed as she felt yet another line start to rise . . .

Katie woke with a start. She was lying face down on Drew’s bed. The throbbing had almost stopped and was being replaced with more of a dull pain now—constant but bearable. She looked over in the dark at the clock. It was 1:00 am. Beside her Drew was asleep, his arm wrapped protectively around Katie’s slender waist to keep her from turning over in her sleep.

She was lying on top of the covers, still bare from the waist down. She shivered slightly but there was no way she could sleep with sheets tonight. Hopefully by tomorrow she would be able to put her jeans back on, though she wasn’t so sure about sitting comfortably in the morning. She reached back gingerly and could still clearly feel the six raised lines across her bottom.

“I actually did it,” she thought. Precisely how she didn’t know. Drew had finally managed to pry her fingers off the edge of his desk after the sixth stroke and held her in his arms a good 20 minutes before she stopped sobbing and stomping her feet trying to put out the fire on her bottom. He’d led her to his bedroom and put her to bed, even though it had barely been 10:00 am. The rest of the day he simply held her close and took care of her. The cold cream had helped some; so had the sunburn lotion with aloe, it had really numbed the bite.

“Oh well, so much for curiosity,” she thought as she winced and slowly drifted back to sleep . . .

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