A tall thin older man reached into his pocket and removed a scandalously tiny piece of
woman's underwear, placing it carefully on the table….
He also revealed a matching bra in similar tacky animal print.
“No prizes for guessing which young slut these belong to” the man began.
A series of outraged hypocritical tuts went around the room.
The man was the landlord of another of the local pubs.
The assembled gentry were in no doubt who the offending item belonged to. They were
exactly the sort of thing that his bar maid Lucy would wear.
George chose his barmaids for their looks His girls were expected to be friendly to all
customers and to take the saucy comments and the occasional wandering hand with good
grace. Lucy was one of his most popular, a redheaded Aussie with big tits and a nice arse
who liked to show off her assets in the most revealing outfits. The landlord had a strict 'no
fraternisation' policy, believing that if a customer was seen to be receiving special treatment
the others would feel understandably aggrieved. Lucy, it seemed, had breached that policy.
“I found out that she'd been screwing Joe Hedgeworth in the afternoons.”
Hedgeworth was a local businessman who appeared to be happily married with three kids.
“Well, I confronted her about it a couple of nights ago after she had finished her shift. She
eventually confessed. I told her that I ran a respectable establishment not a knocking shop
and that I was minded to let her go. Well she begged and she pleaded with me. I don't pay
her all that well but she makes quite a bit in tips and if she loses her job she will also have to
leave the country so she was obviously in a bit of a pickle. I kept up my sternest manner,
telling her that if I didn't sack her she would have to accept some form of penalty. She
readily agreed to that before even finding out what I had in mind.
So, I told her to wait round the back while I finished cashing up. I took my time about it and
had a couple of stiff drinks to steady myself.
When I returned Lucy seemed resigned. I don't know what she was expecting but she had a
passive look on her face. That soon changed when I told her what I was going to do to her.
The colour left her cheeks as I informed her that I would start her off with a spanking and
depending on how she took that I would use the cane on that big arse of hers. I asked her
once again if she agreed to her punishment and she nodded glumly. She was wearing tight
blue jeans and a crop top. I ordered her to take both off which revealed the underwear that I
brought with me tonight. I think she was expecting a playful pat on her bum so when I began
to spank with fully force it took her by surprise. She was very quickly making a terrible
racket as he full figure writhed and wriggled across my lap. I told her to keep it quiet
otherwise I would have to gag. The poor lass did her best but I was really doing some
damage down there. She grabbed on to my trouser legs in a desperate attempt to deflect the
pain her bum. After about ten minutes of this her bottom was starting to match her hair.
Then another idea came to me. I've always been bit of a tit man as you probably know..”
The men nodded in acknowledgement. All his barmaids were full bosomed.
“So I thought to myself wouldn't it be fun to have a go at those lovely boobs of hers. I got
her to her feet and told her to take of her bra. They really are pretty spectacular and having
helping myself to a bit of a feel I started to slap them. Her face contorted in agony as they
swung from side to side and she let out the most delightful squeals. Eventually it became too
much for her and she begged me to stop. I told her that her punishment had hardly begun
and if she didn't want it on her tits another part of her anatomy would have to pay the price.
She was in too much pain and too confused to fully comprehend but when I presented my
cane it became much clearer to her.
I told her that I was going to give her twelve hard strokes across her big bum and that she
would have to count them. Failure to do so, or any attempts to block my cane would result in
a penalty stroke.
For the next few minutes the back room resounded with the echo of stiff rattan impacting on
soft antipodean arse and an increasingly desperate attempt to keep count. By the end she
was sobbing and truly remorseful
Well that about wraps up my story.” He concluded disingenuously. Most of the men in the
room had already formed a vivid mental image of the landlord still mostly dressed towering
over the buxom Aussie, her bottom crisscrossed with angry weals. They also knew that his 'no fraternisation' policy only meant not fucking customers. Still one of the rules of the naughty knickers club was that certain aspects of the discipline were left under a discreet
veil.