From the Top Shelf - The Key that Unlocks, Part 3

This is the last letter from a 1980s issue of Janus, and it recalls a more exotic and probably less credible scenario but it's not totally beyond belief. The author's pen name was 'Susan', aged 26 and married to Alan, a civil servant the same age. She recalls a memorable holiday that permanently changed their relationship.

It was two years ago when we were on holiday in the Dordogne area of France and staying in a remote country cottage. We didn't have Debbie then, only Samantha, and we had left her with a babysitter while we went out for the day in the car. We walked into some woods and had a picnic. With the food and wine and lovely weather, Alan and I both felt very randy and, you know, wanted to do it right there in the woods.

I was wearing jeans and I took them and my knickers off and we both laid down on the blanket. Well, we were doing it, with Alan on top of me, and me looking up over his shoulder at the trees and the sky. Suddenly there were two faces there as well. Men's faces. Alan, of course, didn't see them and he just went on fucking me while I lay underneath him with my legs up round his back - and these two men looking down. It was really scary and I couldn't say a word, not even shout. Then one of the men pushed Alan and of course he stopped.

They said we were trespassing on their property and committing an indecent act which was a serious offence. They said we had to go with them. I struggled back into my knickers and jeans while the two men watched. One was in his twenties and the other was older but both were thick set and strong and we would have had little chance to resist them. They took us a few meters to their farmhouse and the younger one, who spoke very good English, said we needed to be taught a lesson.

In the farmhouse kitchen there were a number of other people. The women and children were sent out and there were then four men present, including one old one - the grandfather, I suppose. Then the older of the two who'd brought us there took a thick leather strap out of a cupboard. Then they told me to take my jeans down and bend over the edge of the table. At this point Alan shouted in anger and tried to break free but a large fist was put under his nose and he stopped protesting. It was useless.

It was unbelievable, of course, but there was nothing we could do, not with the four of them there, all powerfully built men. I had to do it - unzip my jeans and take them down and then get over the table. They took my knickers down as well, then the man with the strap laid into my bare bottom. God, it really hurt! And all Alan could do was stand there and watch.

After they'd finished spanking me they let us go. They didn't do anything else to me or punish Alan in any way. I suppose his punishment was being humiliated by having to watch me get it. We were both in a state of shock as we walked back to the car and drove back to our cottage. We talked about going to the authorities but it would have been so embarrassing and I suppose the men would all have denied it.

It was an awful experience but we were both definitely turned on by it. By my having it done to me and by Alan having to watch. By mutual consent we went to bed early that night and we seemed to be fucking the whole of the night.

In the morning, lying in bed, I said to Alan, "That really got you going, watching my arse being strapped like that!" And, shamefaced, he admitted that it had. Then I said, "You could do it to me as well if you like." He looked a bit wide-eyed and I grabbed him and whispered, "You could give me a good seeing to if you like. With one of those leather straps - as long as it's not too hard."

So with a tremendous feeling of excitement we went into the nearby town and bought one. And we did it right away when we got back. Just put Samantha to bed and then right there in the middle of the afternoon re-enacted what had happened the day before. I took down my jeans and got over our kitchen table then Alan took my knickers down and strapped my bottom. Then afterwards we were so aroused we had a really wild session in bed, the best we'd ever had. It was simply fantastic.

We had a strapping session the next day and again the day after - and I suppose just about every day we were there. It was really wonderful. It had really opened up a whole new vista for us.

When we got back from holiday it just took off from there. Alan bought a cane and we experimented with different scenes, not just being strapped by angry French farmers. We have a range of scenes now that we use. One of Alan's favourites is to have me as a sixth form schoolgirl and he is the Headmaster who canes me for some misdemeanour or other. I wear my old school uniform which I still have and which, I'm proud to say, I can still get into.

We have loads of other ones. A shop girl caned for having her hand in the till, a housewife thrashed by a burglar for refusing to say where her jewellery is, a woman driver who causes an accident and get strapped by the other driver. We are very imaginative, you see.

I've never been caned or strapped by anyone but my husband, except for the experience in France. Would I like to be? Alan and I have discussed this but I know he wouldn't like me to be caned or strapped by another man. But me? Well, yes, I know I would enjoy the real thing with someone else. It would have to be without Alan knowing - and it would have to be someone dominating who I couldn't resist. It would have to be like France - but how often does that kind of thrill come a girl's way?

I would love a walk in the French countryside sometime soon.