Oh my god the cane. Where do I start….
I want to try to document as many new experiences as I can. Being new to this I am getting a lot of new experiences, so far this is my most extreme.
I had been through a lot already. I had no idea how long I had been under. Every part of my flesh was alert, I could feel every hit from the paddle and his hand. My pussy was aching and my arse was tender. He had cum all over my face and made me leave it there while it dried. I felt filthy and disgusting. I was glad I couldn’t see myself. I had arrived pristine in my little black dress, stockings and heels and he had ruined me. Every part of me had been used, now I was disheveled, a complete mess, his Fucktoy.
After a long night I was weak and docile. He told me to put my hands against the wall and spread my legs. This was new. I was still blindfolded, normally I was content with the sensory deprivation. This time my senses woke up. I swung my head about as if trying to see what he was doing behind me
‘Do you know what this is?’
He was running something up and down my leg. It was hard and smooth and thin. In my innocence I couldn’t immediately tell what it was, I don’t have a catalogue of BDSM toys in my head. I reached round to grasp it in my hand.
As soon as I clasped this unknown object I knew exactly what it was. A cane. Suddenly I was alert. My knees buckled and I crouched down, hugging the wall with my body quivering. I wanted to cry. This was my punishment, for turning down phone sex earlier in the week. I had let him down and I was going to suffer for it.
He tapped the end of the rod on my skin, signaling me to stand up and get back into position.
I begged my body to be brave as I stood up. I struggled to keep my legs straight, all they wanted to do was curl up back against my chest. Hands against the wall, legs apart, bare arse out. Standing there, keeping my body in position, preparing for this, was the hardest thing I have had to do. I didn’t know what to expect, except I knew it was going to hurt more than anything I had experienced.
He stroked the cane over the curve of my buttocks. I felt it leave my skin a split second before he brought the end down hard on my arse. I yelped loudly. The strike stung like nothing I had ever felt before and my legs caved in as I cried out. I didn’t like this at all. I wanted to stay on the floor, safe, but I summoned up the will to stand again for another go. Why? I don’t know.
Again, he caned my arse, again I buckled against the wall. He was patient each time as I composed myself, whimpering and crying in pain. He varied the position, across my buttocks, back of my thighs and that most tender part just at the top of the thighs as it curves into my cheek. Strike after strike I forced my pathetic, cowering body back into position, until I could take no more. I crumbled to the floor for the last time, grasping my stinging bottom with one hand and waving the other in mercy.
He moved me to the bed, face down. I hid my head in my hands, I knew he wasn’t finished with the cane yet. He was enjoying it far too much. I waved my hand about, this time for attention like in a classroom. I wanted to talk, but I had to ask permission each time.
‘Permission to speak.’ He said.
I paused while I found to confidence to use my voice, I said, ‘I’m not wet.’
I was disappointed, so disappointed. I felt like a wimp, I couldn’t take the pain, it was pathetic. I was embarrassed. I was afraid of every flick, every swish. I couldn’t even hold my body in place, every instinct screamed out to protect myself.
The first time I experienced sustained pain, with the paddle, I was dripping wet. My cunt loved the abuse. I expected the same, but this time I just wanted it to stop. Laying on the bed next to me, I don’t remember exactly what he said, only that it included the words,
And it was ok. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t aroused. I’m sure he still loved it. After all, you didn’t know what you re going to like until you try it. I flicked the cane from the bed onto the floor. I couldn’t bare to be near this object.
Time passed, I don’t remember what happened in between, but it gave me time to process the sensations. It was horrible, I hated every strike, it was agony. Slowly the stinging died down, I could feel welts swelling on my skin. I was so tender but the glow felt satisfying. I snuck a peek in the mirror, there was a large bruise forming in the middle of one cheek with three distinct angry red lines from the cane. I had never been marked this badly before.
I put my hand up to ask permission to speak. I wish I had an explanation as to why.
Ever so shyly I said, ‘I think I’m ready for the cane again…’
‘Good girl.’ I could hear the evil smile in his tone. He picked up the cane and swished it through the air for effect. This time I was ready.