It happened abroad in the far east. At the time Linda was 30 years old and we were on an extended holiday. Whilst in a poolside bar one lunchtime I was asked by some locals we had befriended, where Linda was. Innocently I said that she was on the apartment balcony getting an all over tan. The barman shook his head and told me that one of the waiters had been saying that my wife had hired him to give her a massage. I went back to the complex with the barman and we sat by the pool watching and waiting until, sure enough, an hour or so later this waiter came out of our apartment. The barman, sensing my anger, asked a most strange question. Had I ever seen a woman caned? I was nonplussed. He repeated his unusual question. I shook my head. He said that it could be and I quote, "A most Sexy thing!". Then he stunned me even further by asking if I would like to see my wife punished for taking her clothes off in public. I protested that Linda had always restricted her sunbathing to our balcony. The barman then produced an envelope from his back pocket and handed it over. Inside was a single photograph looking down on our apartment from an apartment across the complex and there for all to see was my wife, blatantly topless. I started to protest and accused him of being a peeping tom, but he merely shrugged and told me to keep the snapshot. If I wanted to have my wife 'arrested' and punished I was to give him back the photo and he would organise everything by making out that a complaint had been made and here was the damning evidence of Linda's 'public' indecency and her guilt.
That night Linda never mentioned her massage and I didn't let on that I knew about it. The conflicting emotions that I experienced over the next day or so are worthy of an entire exercise book in their own right. Believe me I agonised and the more I thought about Linda with this waiter giving her a sexy massage, the more appealing I found the prospect of Linda getting what she deserved. We were due home in 7 days time and so there was no time to lose. Decision taken I tracked down my friendly barman and handed him back the snapshot and from then on everything happened so fast... like it had already been pre-planned.
I got back to the complex an hour later and the couple from the next apartment greeted me at the door. They were very agitated. Apparently Linda had been taken away by some men in uniforms. They gave me the address and I took a taxi. It was a run down building adjacent to the police barracks. When I eventually got in I was made to wait ages before I was told that my wife had been charged with indecent behaviour in the town. Naturally she was denying it, but there was photographic evidence. I asked if I could see Linda. They wouldn't let me talk to her but I was permitted to look through a small observation slit into the interview room in which she was being kept. There was a hard faced female orderly guarding the door. As I looked in this woman offered Linda a cigarette. Linda hadn't smoked since before we were married but she now gratefully accepted the cigarette. As she puffed frantically, the Mr Fix-It barman appeared at my elbow. He was smiling as he told me that everything was fixed and that Linda was just about to be informed that she was to receive a dozen strokes of the cane. My heart missed a beat. There was no going back now. Both of us had our faces pressed to the observation slit as a uniformed official entered the interview room and proceeded to pass sentence. I'll never forget the look of bemused horror that passed across my wife's face at that moment. Linda took a deep drag and exhaling a long plume of smoke began to protest. The official then stunned Linda by asking if she had ever been caned before. This stopped her in her tracks and she merely shook her head. "Well you may indeed be a married woman, but you are certainly not too old to be caned. And be under no illusions, this isn't going to be a schoolgirl punishment. I'm going to thrash your bare bottom and what's more I'm going to enjoy doing it" At this I saw Linda visibly shudder whilst at the same time my own heart was pounding, fit to burst. This was mind numbing stuff. The barman nudged me in the ribs and winked.
Myself and the barman were then immediately escorted down a long corridor to a stark windowless room. A floor to ceiling curtain of a fine mesh separated off one end the room and we were told to stand behind it. Through the curtain we could see the rest of the room which was bare except for a tall wooden frame in the shape of a letter 'H' fixed at a sloping angle against the far wall about 50 feet away. Then to my surprise a number of other men filed into the room and took up position on our side of the curtain. I was horrified. I hadn't expected my wife's predicament to be come a public spectacle for the enjoyment of all and sundry. I was about to protest to the barmen when our attention was directed to activity beyond the curtain as Linda, still smoking her cigarette, was brought into the room by the female orderly who led her across to the punishment frame. Then the same male official entered the room. In his hand was the wicked looking punishment cane. Linda, dressed in a familiar white blouse, tight fitting cut-down denim jeans and sandals, was standing almost to attention and through the mesh screen I watched her facial expression as the man calmly asked her to remove her outer garments. Linda hesitated only for a moment, replaced the cigarette between her lips then carefully began unbutton the blouse which she slipped off her shoulders with a defiant shrug. I held my breath for Linda often wore no bra, but on this occasion she still had on her scarlet halter neck bikini top. Another long drag at the cigarette then Linda fumbled with the fastening of the jeans and tugged the tight denim down over her hips to reveal the matching skimpy red bikini briefs before kicking off the sandals and working the jeans over her feet and off.
The man now walked round to face Linda and show her the slim three foot long regulation bamboo prison cane. A dozen lashes across your bare bottom, he reminded her and suddenly my wife's eyes clouded. Then the female orderly distracted Linda by pointing to the still smouldering cigarette and telling her to put it out. Linda quickly took several final drags before exhaling through pursed lipsticked lips. Then in a show of feigned defiance she dropped the smouldering butt on the floor in front of the other woman who stepped forward and ground it out under the sole of own shoe. My wife was then made to lean against the wooden frame, reach up and then grip each upright. The woman expertly secured her wrists to the frame using two leather cuffs. Then the man stepped up close to her. It seemed that he
had reserved for himself the pleasure of baring my wife's bottom and Linda's whole body seemed to shudder as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and slowly drew the skimpy bikini knickers over her hips and down her tautly stretched legs. My wife was now suggestively naked from the waist down and I could sense a quickening in the breathing of those around me in the viewing area. The female orderly now whispered something and Linda obediently spread her legs until her feet were positioned against the two uprights. Leather straps were again employed, this time to secure her ankles to the frame. As the woman tightened one of the cuffs, the official knelt
and attended to the other. Finished, the man turned to stand, but seemed to pause. Linda was fully displayed for the disciplinarian's intimate inspection and the man's face seemed to linger only inches from her naked backside. Yes, he'd just stripped Linda, my Linda I reminded myself and now he appeared to be no doubt enjoying the peep and the mineral tang of her sex.
It was about to happen and I just stood there guiltily realising that I had set up my wife and put her in this predicament. And for what reason I now asked myself. Because I wanted to see another man cane her gorgeous arse. I wanted to experience the sheer erotic sexual high that reputedly can be attained from witnessing a woman receiving corporal punishment. My reverie was however rudely interrupted as the man now carefully touched and measured the cane across the out-thrust swell of Linda's bottom. As the official raised the long bamboo slowly above his shoulder, she tried in vain to clench her cheeks together. The man then casually stepped back half a pace and with considerable force slashed the cane across Linda's proffered
Out of respect for my wife I don't feel inclined to describe in intimate detail each and every stroke. What I will say though is that the official carried out the punishment with admirable efficiency. He was severe without being brutal and after just three strokes Linda was in a frenzy, raising the roof with her yells and pleas to be spared further torment.
It wasn't until long after we were back home that Linda felt able to confront her ordeal and talk about it. Now, several years on she no longer feels angry that she was punished for something she hadn't done. She believes that to avoid a court appearance and publicity she had no choice but to accept the offer of an 'on-the-spot' caning. She doesn't know that she was set up and that it wasn't for real, but she is fully aware that it turned me on seeing her get it. Interestingly she has recently developed a curiosity about the whole issue of corporal punishment and regrets that she has no tangible evidence of her own correction such as a video or photos even. Often she will put on the same skimpy red bikini at bed time and encourage me to recount the details of the punishment as a prelude to making love and she recently suggested that one day she might even consider a repeat performance but made it clear that she would not want me to be her disciplinarian!