And so it came to pass that, three weeks after Caroline’s recent experience , we arranged that I would come to the house. The idea was that I would arrive quite early in the day - her gardener was again due to come to the house, and I needed to be there before him. This time Caroline was wearing a short blue skirt, with a pair of white panties underneath, and a light coloured blouse, made of a sheer material, a white bra underneath. We chatted loosely over a cup of tea about what was going to take place this morning... we had discussed the outline of an idea - but only I knew the exact details of what was about to take place. As we talked, I casually told her to take her blouse off. Caroline put her tea down, blushed slightly, and without a word, started to unbutton her blouse, looking down at the buttons. “No”. “Look at me.” I instructed her. She complied... her face reddening even more as she looked me in the eye. With her blouse off, I could see her full, rounded breasts. Not huge.. around a 34/36C I suppose, but with an inviting cleavage. I took a step forward, closing the space between us, wanting her to feel my closeness without actually touching her. “Now your bra if you please..” She hesitated. I wondered if anyone had seen her naked since her divorce. Slowly her hands can up to her back. Unclipping the garment, she let the bra fall away, her breasts bouncing slightly as she did so. Her nipples were already starting to harden... the skin on her neck and chest starting to colour, and her breathing becoming slightly more rapid. “Touch them for me.... like you did when Simon (the gardener) was here before”... I demanded. Caroline cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples with her thumbnails....her eyes fixed on mine. I took time to openly stare at her hands and breasts, wanting her to feel a little embarrassed... after all, she was touching herself in front of a man she had never even met before. I had seen through the window that Simon had arrived, and was starting his tasks. “Now, put your blouse back on, and go and see if Simon has everything he needs” I said. “No bra ?” Caroline questioned.. “No bra” was my reply. I went upstairs, into the back bedroom, and watched from the window, as Caroline approached the gardener. She stood slightly to one side of him as she engaged him in conversation, and even from that distance, I could see her erect nipples trying to force themselves through the thin material of her blouse. The conversation lasted five minutes. Long enough for him to feast on the sight in front of him. Caroline started walking back into the house, and I met her in the kitchen. “Before you go back out to him, I want you to undo another button. Spend some time out there with him, ask his opinion on some of the plants. Lean forward and make sure he can see your breasts” Caroline looked slightly shocked at my request. She had stated in our messages that she had no interest in him at all - which was perfect for me. I wanted out off her comfort zone. She poured a glass of water, undid the button, as requested, and turned, walking back out to him. Going back upstairs, I noted that Caroline did exactly as asked.. standing there, talking with him, then leading him to a flowerbed with short shrubs in it... the perfect place for her to bend down.. As she did so, he crouched down, putting a hand out to touch one of the shrubs, and I realised that he was now playing the game.. By positioning himself where he did, he had an unobstructed view of Caroline’s breasts. I could see from her body language that she was aware of his gaze... maybe he was openly staring at her full hanging tits - I couldn't tell. Caroline walked back into the house. I waited for a few minutes, then made my way downstairs. At this point, we hadn’t discussed any of what was about to happen next. I walked quietly and slowly into the Conservatory.... There was Caroline, laying in a recliner, legs open, and shamelessly draped over the sides, facing away from me and towards the window, beyond which the gardener was working. I approached silently from over her shoulder... stood watching her masturbate herself for thirty seconds or so, and then said in a fairly loud voice.. “What the hell do you think you are doing !” She started... her hand almost flew out of her panties, as she gathered herself and stood before me. “I’m sorry Andrew ( the name of her ex husband..) .... I couldn’t help myself!”.... “From where I was standing, it looked like that was exactly what you were doing... helping yourself !!” “He’s the bloody gardener for Gods sake !” - my tone strong, fierce. “I don’t know what came over me.... I am so, so sorry darling” she stammered... her voice quivering as she spoke. “What would have happened if I hadn’t come home ? - have you fucked him !?” “Oh God !.. no....... NO! Never ! ... and I never would” she replied.. a look of genuine distaste on her face. “Well, I only have your word for that” I spat, starting to pace the room, my hands in my pockets, looking at the floor. “What can I do to prove it to you - or to make it up to you ? .....” Caroline begged. “Go upstairs..... wait for me there” I said, walking out of the room. I watched her start up the stairs, slowly, unsure of what was to follow. When I finally followed her, she was in the back bedroom, where I had been earlier. The window was still ajar, as I had left it, and Caroline was standing next to the bed. I removed my suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair, and sat on the bed. “Come here” - I instructed. Caroline stood next to me, next to my right arm, which I wrapped around her waist, pulling her across my legs. She leaned forward, falling softly across my lap, her hands breaking her fall, and I told her to lay across my lap properly with her arms outstretched. Placing my left hand between her shoulder blades, just below her neck, I held her down gently, saying “ I am going to teach you to respect me, once and for all, and not to behave like a teenage slut” As I did so, I began to rub my hand across her clothed buttocks, and at that point, Caroline finally realised what was about to happen... She struggled slightly, and all I said was “Don’t speak” as I brought my hand down firmly across the middle of her bottom. Caroline flinched, uttering a short “ahhh!” And again I warned her.... “Not a word.” I brought my hand down again, once, twice, three times, each one in a different place, wanting to explore her sensitivity.... She wriggled on my lap, but to her credit, didn’t utter a sound. I paused,... lifting her skirt, and exposing her white panties. Again I started, bringing my hand down again and again from a good height, across the middle, sides, and lower part of her bottom, watching it quiver with every slap. Her legs were moving, she was trying to wriggle off my lap, and I redoubled my efforts as I held her down with my left hand. I knew she was struggling to be silent, and so it was time to up the stakes again. Stopping briefly, I slowly pulled her panties down, exposing the reddened globes to the air. I watched as Caroline grabbed a hold of the sheets with her outstretched hands in anticipation of what was to come, as I delivered twelve sharp slaps on her bare, quivering bottom. This time she couldn’t hold her voice in, and with the last few let out several satisfying cries, as her breath started to come in short sobs. “Be quiet - or I swear, I he comes up to investigate, I will let him finish what I have started !” I said The threat seemed to have the right effect.... I paused for her to compose herself, and catch her breath, and then I told her to stand up, which she did. “Bring me the hairbrush from the dressing table” I demanded. Caroline had previously told me that her only experience of corporal punishment had been as a child, at the hands of her mother, who had on a few occasions, spanked her with her hairbrush. The one on the dressing table just happened to be a family heirloom - the very same brush. She brought it to me, her bright eyes glistening as she did so. “And again, over my lap “ I said. Caroline did as she was told, again gripping the bedsheets, and this time burying her face in them also. I rubbed her bottom with the brush. It was heavy, well made, good, solid dark wood. I brought it down sharply, once, twice, three times, evenly across her bottom, and Caroline screamed into the bedclothes, kicking her heels around. I stopped, allowed her again to compose herself, and then another three in quick succession. After these, Caroline began to sob uncontrollably. Her bottom was a deep red. I placed the brush down, and began caressing her buttocks, squeezing them, and pulling her cheeks open. I could see her pussy.... wet, glistening. Rivulets of cum starting to track down her slit. Picking up the brush, I began again .... this time deciding not to stop. Caroline took twelve hard slaps with the brush, before she raised her head, and pleaded for me to stop. Although she hadn’t used the safe word, I felt that she had received enough.... and taken her punishment well. I released my grip on her back, and she slid off my lap, kneeling, her chest heaving, and tears rolling down her face. “Thank You” she uttered through her tears. I stood up, Caroline’s incessant wriggling had given me an erection. Without a word, she reached forward for my trousers slowly, looking up at my face for approval. I had no plan at this point, and I decided to let her continue as she saw fit. Caroline unzipped my trousers, and took out my hard penis, squeezing and stroking it slowly. Caroline moved forward, her mouth open, and I stopped her. “No.... “ she continued to stroke me, slowly at first, and then faster, longer strokes, until she brought me to orgasm, over her blouse and breasts. Caroline stood, and I told her not to clean herself up yet. “The gardener must be thirsty by now. I suggest you go and make him a cup of tea, and take it out to him- just the way you are”.......