Sinful Sunday: Soulful stripes

There comes a time when punishment is over. Time moves fast during a caning, and then, when the last stroke is delivered, it slows down. Nearly to a stop. There is pain, and there is peace.

She’d been warned about consequences of not doing university work before, and she knows that the punishment was an act of love, and she deserved it. No matter how much it hurt. 

But she knows, too, that he still has the cane in his hand, as a badge of office, almost. Justice is one of the strongest ties between master and willing slave. And, justice or not, she knows he’s hard for her. 

In a moment he’s going to hold her. And kiss her, and tell her she’s good, and he’ll help her get the overdue assignment finished. But for now, the assignment isn’t what matters. His need for her, and hers for him; that matters. In a few seconds, no more, they’ll be fucking. 

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie’s tale

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Sir had said I was going to enjoy helping him to give Lucy her first caning. I felt a little guilty about that because Lucy was only going to get the cane because she’d been told to hold me down, and I’d deliberately got up, just to get her into trouble. I planned to start disciplining Lucy myself, soon, but I didn’t want to hurt her just now. So I said, “Sir?”  

“Maddie, I want you to sit on my desk.”

“Yes, Sir.” I rested my bottom on his desk and swung my legs. “No, not perch on my desk. I want you to get right up on top. And right over to the other side of the desk.” 

“Ok, sir.”

And I clambered up, aware of both Lucy and Sir watching me. So I sat in the middle, my knees up, arms over my knees, looking at them. 

“Good girl. Now skootch a little further back. So you’re on the far side of the desk. When my chair is.” 

I skootched. His desk was oak. The wood was so hard and cold, under my bottom and thighs. “Sir?” 

“Good girl. Now spread your knees, wide apart as you can. Good. What do you think, Lucy?”

Lucy stood beside Sir. Her thighs were trembling. She said, “She – Mistress. She looks very hot, Sir.”

Sir put his arms round Lucy and turned hewr to face him. He cuddled her, and whispered, “Don’t be afraid, Lucy. The cane hurts, but you’ve known it was going to be part of your life since this morning, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, Sir. I have. But I’m still afraid.” She leaned in against him, put her arms round him. I knew how lovely and luscious Lucy felt. I wished it was me, in her arms. 

“Lucy, what you’re afraid of, lovely little one, is mostly the unknown. All the terrors of your imagination. You’ll find this is going to sting, and it’ll mark for you a few days. But it’s not as terrifying as you think. You’ve got Maddie to thank, for you being just about to get your first caning. You know that, don’t you.”

“Sir! I let her get up when you told me to hold her down. I failed, Sir.”

Sir smiled and smacked Lucy’s bottom lightly, then let his hand stay there, squeezing. Lucy wriggled.

“Yes, but she got up, Lucy, darling. She wanted you to get the cane today. She was turned on and she wanted to watch you be punished too. But she also did you a good turn. It’s better to get the cane early, than to fear it and let the fear build up until it becomes something terrible. So I want you to turn now, and thank your Mistress for getting you caned.”

“Sir!?” Lucy sounded shocked. Then she thought, and nodded. She looked at me. Her tongue came out and wet her lips. I felt it in my cunt, when she did that.

Lucy swallowed, then spoke firmly. “Maddie. Mistress, thank you for making sure I got the cane today. It is better if I don’t have to wait. So thank you.”

Sir smacked Lucy’s bottom again. A little harder, leaving a pink print this time. But he said, “That’s good, Lucy. Well done.”

Lucy smiled and cuddled in again, her breasts heavy and so pale, crushed against his jacket. Sir kissed her forehead, then looked at me. “Good girl, Maddie. Now lean back. Put your hands on the edge of the desk, behind you. And push your pussy forward a little. No, more. That’s good. Don’t move out of that position until I say.”

He stepped back from Lucy, then picked up the cane again. She was being brave, but now her caning was about to happen I could see tears glistening in her eyes. He whispered something to her. I couldn’t catch it but it was loving, encouraging.

He held the cane under her chin, to lift her head. Then he touched it to her mouth, and she kissed it. Slowly, almost reverently.

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie learns a lesson about pain

The previous episode is here

Even while my pain was building, I could hear Sir’s breathing, with his mouth open, responding to Lucy’s hand on his cock.

“That’s lovely, Lucy,” Sir said. “Keep that up.” Lucy giggled, and there was a slap. Sir’s hand on her bottom.

“The next time we find ourselves doing this, Lucy, you’ll be using your mouth. Would you like to be taught how to please me best, when you’re sucking my cock?”

Lucy said, “Oh god yes, Sir. Sir–” She stopped, uncertain.

“Yes, Lucy?”

“I want you to teach me everything. All the things there are. Please Sir.”

“Ahhh, Lucy.” I didn’t dare look, but I knew he’d drawn her in close, holding her. They were kissing. Another time I might have wondered whether I felt jealous, but the burning pain iacross my bottom still held all of my attention. Lucy gasped: he must have touched her pussy, and then she made a little moan. He was stroking her. 

Then I heard Lucy stumble. He’d broken the cuddle and set her back in place. I imagined her hand, stroking the length of Sir’s cock. I’d sucked Sir off, but I hadn’t done that with my hands. Lucy got to do that first.

“Maddie.” That was all the warning I got. Then the cane landed, hard, across my thighs. Usually I minded that my thighs still held a little puppy-fat, though I did my best to work it off, But in that second I thanked the gods that tiny bit of extra padding was there. I screamed again. I couldn’t help myself.

Lucy said, “Two, Sir.” She must have done something with her hand, because I heard Sir gasp.

“Oh Sir,” I said. “It hurts soooo much.”

“Don’t speak again, Maddie. Now, I’ve marked out the top line and the bottom line of this caning. The rest of your strokes are going in between. It’s going to hurt.”

“Going to? Sir…”

“But I need you to be a good girl, Maddie. You’ve got an example to set for Lucy here. And I know you can do it. Bravely. Obediently. Like the best of good girls.”

I smiled and sniffed. He cared for me. I knew that, but that reached me through all the pain. A second later the third stroke landed, a little lower on my underbum, perhaps half an inch below the first stroke. God, it burned.

I screamed, and my hands left the floor. I wanted so strongly to clutch my arse, and rub it. But I managed to stay down, and I returned the palms of my hands to the floor.

Lucy said, “Three, Sir.”

Sir said, “I’ll pretend I didn’t see that, Maddie.”

I’d thought I was in trouble. I gasped, “Thank you, Sir.”

“But if you were to rub your bottom without permission, or even take your hands off the floor again, you know you’ll get extra. So,” and his voice was icy now, “be more careful, girl.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He wasn’t warning me any more. The next stroke was a little higher on my thighs. I screamed again, as the pain built, and then started to sob. I couldn’t stop. Sir was punishing me, mercilessly. I also felt that he was making me his, when he marked me and hurt me, and some of the sobs were from that. It was emotion more than pain.

“Four, Sir.”

Two more strokes whipped in, hard and fast on my thighs, each line a little higher than the one before. I was in agony, all through my body, and we weren’t even halfway yet!

“Five, Sir. Six, Sir.” Lucy was a little short-breathed. She was turned on, watching her Mistress getting punished. 

Then, with two hard strokes across my bottom, working their way lower, I was past the halfway point.

“Seven, Sir. Eight, Sir.”

Just six strokes to go. But something had changed in me. I didn’t scream for that last stroke.

I felt as if that girl getting the cane, Maddie, was very small and far away. In one way I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. At another level, I was only aware of how completely I’d given myself to him, and how entirely he’d taken me. I belonged to him, for him to do with as he wanted.

There was a kind of sweetness with the pain, all the way through my body and my mind, that I hadn’t experienced before.And I knew we were going to continue, as my caning would continue, until I found my way entirely into that sweetness.

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Wicked Wednesday: The Cocky Caning

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Lucy was stroking Sir’s penis,that I was still getting used to thinking of as my Sir’s  cock. He’d ordered Lucy to do that because he was determined not to take any of her virginities tonight. But her hand was fine.

He’d said that the more turned on he was, the harder he’d cane.

I don’t think Lucy wanted me to be hurt, or not too much, but I knew her: it was her nature to do her utmost to please him.

So I waited, bent over with my fingers touching my toes, and that cane having touched my lower bottom, which I’d already learned hurt the worst, I knew I was in for a very hard, painful caning indeed. 

Sir said, “I want you bent tighter than that, Maddie. Palms flat on the floor.” 

I said, “Yes, Sir,” and moved my hands lower, then let my palms rest on the floor. Fortunately I was a supple girl; I still am. Yoga students and girls who get the cane regularly need to be supple. 

I could feel the way my body tightened. I was presented perfectly, from his point of view. My pussy felt terribly exposed, not just to his gaze, though I knew it was that, but also, in that position, to the cane. A really hard stroke could easily reach my pussylips.

I wondered if I’d be able to take that without getting up.

Sir said, “All right, Maddie. You know you’re generally expected to take a caning in silence. If I tell you to, you can count the strokes aloud and thanks me for each one. I’m not expecting you to do that. Lucy’s going to do the counting for you. So what does that mean, Maddie?”

My heart sank. “I’m not to make any sound at all, Sir.”

“That’s right, girl. Those are the rules. Do you think you’ll be able to manage that?” 

“I… I don’t know, Sir.” 

“I have my doubts too. There’s a choice for you, Maddie. If you accept two extra strokes, making fourteen, then I’ll allow you to scream and squeal and carry on, so long as you keep still. If you don’t take the two extra strokes, and you scream, then you get the stroke over. So, what’s it to be?” 

I felt the cane touch me again, this time on my legs, about four inches below the crease of my bum. Oh god. I whimpered. I knew that I’d get more than two extra strokes if the rule of silence applied to this caning. “I’ll take the two strokes. The extra strokes, Sir.” 

“I think that’s a sensible choice. So that makes how many strokes of the cane you’re due for?”

I felt tears slip from my eyes, down into my eyebrows, to get lost in my hair. I sniffed. “Fourteen strokes, Sir.” 

“Good girl, Maddie. I still expect you to stay in place. Get up, and you’ll get another twelve. Understood.” 

I wanted to sob already. “Y-yes, Sir.” 

“All right Lucy, A little bit slower, now. I don’t want to come until I’ve got you two home with me. Now, Maddie.” 

“Yes Sir?”

But he was warning me. I must have heard the cane swishing through the air, but I don’t remember that. I only remember the pain and heat when it landed across my underbum.

It was so hard. I couldn’t help it. I screamed on the very first stroke, though I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t, and my hips and bottom jerked convulsively. I only just managed to stop myself from getting up.

Lucy said, “One, Sir.” There was awe in her voice.

 

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Wicked Wednesday: Will Sir cane us together?

The previous episode is here.

 

Sir looked at me, dancing about clutching my arse. He looked concerned for a second, Then he smiled, though that was gone before Lucy saw it. He understood. And I was sure he wanted Lucy to undress for him so he could cane her. 

I think both of us hoped he’d cane us together

I don’t understand why I wasn’t jealous of Lucy. But what she had from him wouldn’t take anything from me. They’d both have a wonderful time, and I liked both of them – maybe I loved Sir a little, or a lot – and I wanted them both to be happy.

Somehow I was sure that I’d still be Sir’s Number One. And maybe he’d let me play with Lucy too, while he was punishing her. Or he could cane both of us at once: all of that was up to him.

“Maddie girl, stop making an exhibition of yourself.” He sounded furious, but I wasn’t worried at all. I knew he was happy with me. “Be quiet, girl. Go to the corner, and put your nose to the wall. Kneel down, and stay there. And put your hands on your head!”

I said, “I’m so sorry, Sir!” He’d know I was lying about that, but he’d keep my secret. Then I added, “Yes, Sir,” and dropped to my knees in the corner. God, my bottom was burning.

There was silence. Sir and Lucy would be staring at each other. “All right, Lucy. I asked you to hold Maddie down. How do you think you did?”

She had to sniff and clear her throat before she could answer. “I – Uh. I failed, Sir. I’m sorry.”

Another pause. They’d be looking at each other. “I’m afraid you did, Lucy. What did I promise you, if Maddie got up?”

Or I could stand behind Sir and watch

“The same as her. Twelve strokes, sir?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Lucy girl. And what will you be wearing while I cane you?”

Kneeling naked in the corner, I felt their glances on me. I blushed. Lucy cleared her throat again. I imagined the tears running down her sweet face. “Nothing, Sir.”

“That’s right, Lucy. Then you’ll be a good girl again, once you’ve taken your punishment. I’m sure you’ll take your strokes well. You want me to be proud of you. And you want to be proud of yourself, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” Lucy’s voice sounded stronger. “Should I… get ready now, Sir? Take my clothes off and bend over your desk?”

Sir let the silence stretch. He was enjoying himself, I knew. I wondered if his cock was hard. I wondered if I’d be able to suck him after Lucy left. He was going to fuck me for the first time, when I went back to his office after school, But I suspected he needed me now. “Come here, Lucy.”

There was a sudden happy sound from Lucy. So Sir had held out his arms, and Lucy had rushed into them. There was a light smack. Lucy was still bare-bottomed from her spanking. She squealed, but I recognised that sound, since I’d made it myself. She was happy to be turning him on.

“All right, Lucy.” Another smack, and another happy squeal. “I don’t have time to deliver two canings right now. Off to class, girl. But come back… after school. Four o’clock.”

Lucy almost sang her “Yes, Sir!” She’d reached the door before Sir coughed. “Sir? Oh!” She scrambled back to the desk to pick up her discarded panties and skirt, and hurriedly put them on. 

His cock would be Lucy’s soon, sometimes and in a way. But it would always be mine

I risked a glance as she skipped to the door again. Sir was beside me when the door shut after her, and he reached down to take a handful of my hair. I tried to get up, but he twisted my hair till it hurt.

“No, Maddie. Just turn around, on your knees. We’ve got some things to talk about, but you’re not going to be using your mouth for speaking. Not for a few minutes.”

I pressed my face against the front of his pants, then, hesitantly because he’d hadn’t told me what to do,

I pulled down his zip and reached inside his trousers. His cock jumped when my hand touched it. It was so hard.

Sir breathed, “Good girl.”

I opened my mouth.

 

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Wicked Wednesday: Get up, stand up!

The previous episode is here.

 

I kissed Lucy’s inner thighs one last time, bending over with my head between her legs while she held me down. Sir was tapping his cane on my bottom, letting me know the next stroke would be higher, on the fleshiest part of my bum. 

Then the cane was gone, and I braced myself as best I could. Poor Lucy would get the cane herself if she let me get up. She was my sister in trouble, and I was responsible for her.

Then the cane landed, hard and fiery, slashing a new line of pain across my bottom. I cried out while the pain built, and I knew there must be a welt rising there. Did Sir love my marks? I know I would if I were in his position. Perhaps he’d let me cane Lucy, one day, and I could find out.

Sir’s hand touched my bottom, gently, where the stroke had landed. “That’s lovely, Maddie. You’ll have that to look at for the next few days.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, stay down, girl. The next one’s going to be harder.”

I said, “Yes, Sir.” I could feel my own drool, running from my pussy, viscous at the tops of my inner thighs. When he touched me, I’d felt such a wave of wanting him. It got stronger when he told me he was going to go harder on me. I couldn’t understand myself.

But the next stroke bit into my ass, absolutely pitiless, a little higher than the last stroke. I kept still for a second and then I screamed. It hurt so much.

I waggled my bottom furiously, to release all that fiery pain while keeping my upper body under Lucy’s hands, and my head between her soft, sweet thighs.

Then the next landed with no warning, a little higher again. It was harder still.

And my mind sort of switched off. I just wanted the next stroke, and I felt sure that if he caned me for much longer I’d come. I felt so hot, but the heat was in my pussy as well as my bottom, and though Lucy would be shocked if I orgasmed, right there under her hands, I didn’t care about that at all. I didn’t care about anything.

I sighed, voluptuously though I didn’t know the word then, and hoped the next stroke would be soon. And hard. Sir noticed, and his voice was the gentlest I’d ever heard it. “Good girl,” he said. “You’re a good girl, Maddie, and you’ll be all right. Just three to go, if you stay down.”   

And then he swung the cane again, to land just below that pulsing, fiery line left by that first stroke.

I knew it was a hard stroke, but the pain seemed far away. I murmured, “ohhh….”

I could smell Lucy. She was so turned on too. I thought about how she’d be under the cane. Would she love it, like me? She’d been so sparkly-eyed after her spanking from Sir. And holding me for my caning was turning her on so much. I kissed her left thigh, and wished I could be kissing her pussy. 

The cane landed again, the hardest stroke so far. I knew what would please him most. I breathed, “Thank you, Sir.” And I arched my bottom to invite the next stroke. 

“Last stroke, Maddie. It’s always the hardest. But you’ve been a good girl so far, so don’t spoil it.” 

And the twelfth stroke landed, so hard and fast and burning. God, I wanted more. I’d had Sir’s cock in my mouth but now I wanted it properly in me. And I wanted him to cane me even longer first. No, I wanted everything at the same time. I felt Lucy’s hands relax after the stroke landed. She thought it was over.  

So I screamed again. I pushed my hands on Sir’s desk, and lifted my shoulders out of her grasp. And then I put my hands on my bottom – god, those welts were raised high – and danced, lifting my knees, joggling and jiggling on the spot.

Lucy looked at me, horrified. She’d failed to hold me down. She was going to get the cane too, now. I looked into her eyes.

What I wanted to say was too complicated, and anyway Sir hadn’t given me permission to speak. So I looked at her and, as if signalling that I’d done her a huge favour, I smiled. 

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Wicked Wednesday: Very pretty stripes

The previous episode is here.

 

The cane landed low across my bottom, and I yelped. It surprised me by hurting so much when Sir wielded it seriously. I tried to keep still, but of course I didn’t completely manage, and Lucy had to press hard on my shoulders. She opened her thighs a little, to push my head further down. 

It was the strangest sensation, with my face between Lucy’s lovely, softly plump thighs, and my bum out and arched up so Sir could hurt me. Lucy stroked my shoulder blades lightly with her fingertips, then resumed the downwards pressure. 

Sir said, “Good girl.” But then he swung the cane again. I heard it swish through the wind, a moment before it hit me. We were both silent and solemn, we two girls, so the crack of it landing on me seemed to fill the room. It might have echoed, but it hurt too much for me to notice. It was even lower, just above the crease of my thighs.

It cancelled out everything else in the world, and this time I cried out with the shock and pain of it. I kept myself still, so Lucy didn’t have to push too hard. After all, she’d get the same if she let me get up, so I was responsible for her. I said, “Oh, sirrrr…” 

“Quiet, Maddie. Keep that bottom up. Ten to go. If you’re good.”

The third and fourth strokes came quickly after that, each lower than the one before, so that the fourth caught me right in that sensitive junction just below my underbum. I was still yowling from the third stroke when the fourth landed, so that I screamed at the fourth, and my head ducked lower into Lucy’s softness while my bottom waggled from side to side. 

Lucy moaned slightly, and I could feel just a touch of wetness on my forehead. God! She was wet! My head had touched her cunt! Well, I couldn’t talk: I was wet too. We were both, in our different ways, loving this. I wanted to kiss that little cunt, but the angles were wrong. I couldn’t reach. I nuzzled her with my forehead again, though, and she moaned, leaning back, rocking a little, holding me tight.

 I had no idea what to do with a girl, and neither did she, I’m sure, but we both wanted to know. Maybe Sir might teach us, one day.

So I was smiling when the fifth and sixth strokes landed. Oh, I screamed and the tears ran down my face, and the stripes, all of them, hurt like fire, like being bitten by a snake, but I still smiled. 

Sir said, “That’s halfway, Maddie. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look? With your stripes?”

“I’ve never seen, Sir. I’ve never been caned, and I’ve only seen…”

“Don’t mention his name. Anyway, they’re very pretty on you.”

“I, uh, I’m glad you like them, Sir.” That sounds ridiculous now, when I say that’s what I said, but I meant it. I still do, whenever I get the cane.

There was a pause. With my head between Lucy’s thighs I had to imagine his smile, but I knew it was there. “Oh,” he said, “they’re something to be proud of, Maddie.”

“Yes. I think I will be. When I see them in the mirror.”

“Would you like a record? I mean a photo? Now and after the twelve?”

“Yes! I’d love to see. And …” I would have blushed, except that my face was already as red as a tomato. “Maybe it’s something to remember.”

“Good girl, Maddie. Lucy, it’ll be quite hard to take those shots without your thighs getting into the picture. Nothing else, just a pair of thighs. You can say no.”

I expected Lucy to say no, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Of course. It’s an important moment.”

Sir said thank you. Sir faffed around with his phone for a while, and I said, “thank you,” too. I kissed Lucy on the inside of her thighs, twice on each side.

Then I felt the cane tapping against my bottom again.  

 

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Wicked Wednesday: Maddie earns extra strokes

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So I stayed down, bent over his desk, not even wearing a wristwatch, waiting for the light touch of the cane across my bottom. There had been two taps of the cane against my bottom, to help him to aim, and that told me where Sir was going to put the next stroke. It told me where the next fiery line of pain would land.

The tap came, twice, against my lower bottom, just above the crease of my thighs. Where the skin was softest and most sensitive, and it would hurt me most when I sat down afterwards. Then the cane swept down, and the loud crack of the bamboo on my flesh, and that line of pure pain reached my brain at the same time.

I yowled, and my hands clenched and unclenched while the pain built up. I forced my body down, the desk so cold and hard under my belly and breasts.

Eventually, I could arch my bottom out and up, the way he’d told me, to present myself for his next stroke.

Lucy said, “Two, sir. And thank you for showing me what getting the cane looks like.”

I could hear the choke in her voice. She didn’t like herself for it, but watching me get humiliated and hurt was turning her on. I could have hated her for that, but I didn’t. She was obeying orders, as I was, and we can’t help what makes us aroused.

Eventually Sir said, “Good girls. Both of you. Keep that bottom up, Maddie.”

The next three strokes were delivered with the same delicious slowness and deliberation. I knew he was watching each stripe forming, and thinking about where to put the next. He was like an artist, not a disciplinarian. He was decorating me; my pain was real, but my stripes were beautiful, to him.

I felt proud, and incredibly needy. Cunt-greedy. All I wanted was for him to fill my cunt. I needed to be fucked so badly.

I wouldn’t even care, I’d decided, if Lucy watched that too. I imagined her saying, in that high, choked voice, “Good stroke, sir! And thank you for showing me what getting fucked looks like.”

I chuckled at that thought, and that sealed my fate, I think. Sir said, “Last stroke, Maddie. A nice, traditional six of the best.” 

And I spread for him, moving my feet further apart, when he tapped the cane again, still low on my bottom. I wanted him to see how greedy my cunt was. And, I suppose, Lucy. A second passed, while he held the cane above his shoulder. And then he swung it down, across my underbum, at least twice as hard as the other strokes. Then all I knew was fire and pain. 

I screamed, and my body rose from the desk. I howled and reached back to clutch my bottom. It hurt so much! I was standing up, hands across my ass for comfort and protection, while I hopped in place and swore and swore and swore. 

Sir said, “Hands away, Maddie! Put them on your head!”

When I’d obeyed – I knew I was in trouble, and I put my hands up as fast as I could – he strode forward and spanked me hard, several times, on my bottom, already sore and striped from the cane. I managed to take those in silence, though the tears of pain and shame streamed down my face. 

He turned my face towards him then, and we were close enough to kiss. I wanted to melt into his arms, but I knew I couldn’t. It wasn’t that Lucy was watching: she was already part of this strange intimacy between us. It was that I was in disgrace. 

Sir looked at Lucy then. “What do you think happens now, Lucy?”

She was so pale. She started to speak, and cut herself off. Finally she managed to say, “I– I don’t know, Sir.” 

“If you lie to me again, Lucy, you’ll get the same as Maddie. Do you understand?” 

Lucy’s little pink tongue passed around her lips. Eventually she said, “She’d get the same again, Sir.” 

“That’s right. And if she gets up again – you hear me, Maddie! – she’ll get another twelve. All right, Lucy. Maddie’s got six strokes coming. Do you want to watch her get another twelve on top of that?”

There was another silence. I watched Lucy. She was wearing only her shirt, and perhaps a bra. Her thighs and knees were trembling, and the tears in her eyes had spilled. She said, “No, Sir.”

Then another silence. Sir and I both knew Lucy was lying. Or part of her was. But Sir said, “Then you’re a kind girl, and I’m sure you’d like to held young Maddie, wouldn’t you?” 

Lucy frowned. “Yes, Sir?” 

“Good girl. I want you to pull your shirt up to your waist, and sit on the edge of my desk. Maddie’s going to put her head in your lap while I cane her. You’re going to hold her in place, Lucy, with your thighs and your hands holding her down. And if she takes her nose out of your … lap, just once, then she’ll get the extra twelve. And you’ll get them along with her. Do you understand?”

Lucy hesitated. 

 

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Sinful Sunday: A moment’s peace

There’s a moment of peace after her Master puts the cane down, and tells her that it’s over and she’s been a good, brave girl. 

Her mind is at peace. She was caned for her Master’s pleasure, and hers. There was nothing for her to forgive herself for, nothing for him to forgive. He’d just woken up needing her submission, urgently, and he’d cuffed her to their bed, and reached for the cane.

His strokes hurt as they fell on her, of course. But how quickly those individual flashes of pain turn to warmth, to a kind of sensual glow, and then to sexual longing. She watched him as he raised the cane. His cock lifted with that movement: caning her turned him on. 

He takes photos for her to admire later, and then puts on a condom. And he leaves her cuffed, wrists and ankles spread for him, while he poises his body above hers, ready to take her. And then that moment of peace is over. 

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Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 140: Raylene’s pain does not matter

Raylene looked at the bed. While her freshly-thrashed arse burned, she didn’t want anything to touch her bottom, not even the air. So a simple order like, “Bed,” presented her with challenges she didn’t know what to do with.

I kissed her. “I said ‘bed’, Raylene darling. Yes, you’ve had your ass caned. Looks nice and sore, too. Now you’re going to get your ass into bed.”

She grimaced. “If you don’t mind, Master, I think I’d prefer to stand for the next couple of years.”

I held her to me, her head pressed loving and trusting against my chest.

And I reached down and gave her ass an open-palmed spank, as hard as I could. Raylene cried out in pain and some indignation. If I wasn’t going to feel sorry for her under those circumstances, then … when?

“Darling, you’ve got a Master. What does that make you?”

“A slave, a slavegirl of some sort?”

“Yes. We won’t say so too often, but yes, that’s exactly what it makes you.” I wasn’t sure that was true. But in the moment, sometimes I just say what I think will be hot.

“You’re property. I own you. I mentioned I’m falling in love with you, and I’ll look after you. But you don’t choose what you do, not anymore. Not once I’ve told you what to do.” 

Raylene said nothing. She put her arms around me and let her breasts weigh on my chest. She clung to me like a jasmine. 

“So you’re worried that the sheets are going to hurt your poor little ass, right?”

She looked at me, big-eyed. “Well, I can’t think of any way of being in bed where the sheets won’t hurt me. Even if I lie flat on my tummy.”

“Ok. Now, guess something. Does it matter, even a tiny bit, if the bed hurts your ass?”

“Oh.” That was a new thought. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

“That’s right. You just got a hard lesson in behaviour. It’ll go on hurting a lot for an hour or two, I expect. But it’s over. And I don’t care that your ass still hurts. Understand that. You having a sore backside: it’ll happen to you whenever I see fit, and it does not matter if it hurts. Your pain does not matter. Not during. Not afterwards.”

Raylene had listened to this open-mouthed. She didn’t disagree. These were just things that hadn’t occurred to her before. “Oh. Ok.”

“So, get onto the bed. I’d going to fuck you. I need to fuck you. I think you need to be fucked. As if what you need matters.”

She looked solemn. Then nodded. “No, of course that wouldn’t matter.”

I kissed her. I suppose I don’t cane for irony. “Get up on the bed. Hands and knees. Get your ass up, and keep it up.”

“Yes, master.” And she scrambled up onto the bed, pulling the top sheet and blankets aside, and posing like a cat needing fucking.

A cat with the yummiest, reddest, striped ass in the universe. She looked so beautiful.

“Good girl. I’m going to fuck you, pressed against that nice hot ass. I’m going to enjoy your heat. And I’m going to hurt you while I fuck you. What do you know about that?”

Raylene arched her back, presenting herself as spectacularly as she could. “I know now that it doesn’t matter if it hurts, Master.”

“Good girl. I knew you’re a clever girl.” And I took my clothes off and climbed up onto the bed with her, wanting her more desperately than I was going to tell her, and put my hands on her hips.