Seamus waited politely while Asuka controlled herself and took her place and position again. When she put had her palms flat to the floor and presented herself, silently waiting, he said, “Do that again, and I’ll give you get two strokes extra.” Then he lashed her again, leaving a second pronounced, slightly raised stripe across her plump thighs. He’d kissed that area so often before. He would again tonight.

He didn’t let her take a break after the sixth stroke, but continued, aiming the cane at a lower spot on the backs of her legs. It landed, loudly, and stung her fiercely. His aim was already getting better. Then he worked his way up again, until she had twelve strokes standing out boldly on trembling, luscious skin.

He let her wait after the twelfth stroke, while she stayed down, hands still to the floor, her body quivering a little, not knowing whether her caning was over. At last he broke her tension, touching her thigh lightly with the cane. “You’re done, for now.”

She still held her position. Perhaps she wanted his cock just then, and felt this was a good position for receiving it. But she looked up at him, head still between her knees and said, “Oh, sensei. Thank you, sensei, for my lesson. I will never disrespect you again. Never again.”

Seamus smiled. He was certain that what she’d just said was not true. He expected that they’d started a cycle this night, in which Asuka would make sure, at regular intervals, that she needed to be punished again. Something in that sharp, sexual pain had pleased her very much, and there’d been an intense kind of closeness between them, each of them focused on the movements and sounds and probably smells of the other. They’d both want that again.

“Sensei? I would like it very much if you … If you wanted to fuck me now. Right where I am. Please?”

But he only said, “Good. I’m pleased to hear it, Asuka-chan. I promised you twenty, you remember? You’ve still got eight strokes to go. But you can stand up now.”

Asuka obeyed, lowering the panties so her pussy, now plumply visible, seemed to offer itself to him. Seamus could feel himself hardening. When the panties reached her knees, then fell to gather round her ankles, he said, “Step out of them, and give them to me. If you make too much fuss while I’m caning you I’ll put them in your mouth.”

“Hai, sensei.” Asuka stood, panties in her hand. She held them out and kissed his chest through his shirt when he accepted them and put them in his suit pocket. Then she turned, quickly and with just a hint of coquettishness, so that the skirt flared almost up to her waist before she jackknifed again, the uniform now protecting only the upper slopes of her buttocks.

Seamus lifted the hem and tucked it into her waistband. “I’m thinking of giving you twenty. The roaring twenties. Keep still, till I say you can move.”

Asuka said nothing, but made a sort of squeak. Something about that sound reached out to him; he was now fully erect. But he took the cane in his right hand and tapped it at the fleshiest, roundest part of her buttocks. So she knew where the first stroke would land. Asuka’s fear sound was lower in pitch. He supposed he’d become more familiar with these sounds, the sounds that Asuka made when she was under discipline, in the coming months.

Then, while he still had the nerve to do it, he raised the cane and swept it down hard against Asuka’s bottom. It didn’t land exactly where he’d aimed, but it wasn’t wrong either. The impact on bamboo upon girl was sharp and loud and it drew a white line across light brown skin, that soon blossomed into a bright red stripe, high on her bottom.

Asuka yelped, then sang out, “I’m sorry!” She held her position, her palms still pressed to the floor.

He followed the stroke quickly with another, this time aiming and landing it a little lower. She squealed and sang her apologies at mounting pitch and volume, but kept in place until the fifth stroke, the first across her upper thighs. That obviously stung more fiercely than the strokes he’d laid across her buttocks. Her upper body rose so she seemed to be bowing, and she took a step forward, breath hissing through her teeth.

Asuka at five. She knocked on the door and waited outside though she knew he left the door unlocked. He opened and found her downcast, head hung, mouth woeful. So although he’d meant to greet her harshly, he put his arms round her, and when she looked up he kissed her mouth, and said, “Welcome, little blossom.” But she was only briefly consoled. Once she was inside the door she sank to her knees, and gave in to sobs.

So Seamus, feeling he was acting like the worst villain imaginable, took her ear between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled her up. He smacked her bottom twice with his hand, through her light blue sailor suit. Then, still tugging her ear so that she had to keep her head down while she stumbled, he led her into the sitting room.

He said, “Asuka, I am not going to put up with any more of your stupid behavior.” He sounded false to his own ears, so he picked up the cane so she could see it and get an idea of what he had in mind. Her expression was unreadable. “Your behavior last night was stupid, and ugly. Last night was the omoni ni kuzuke. The last straw! I’m going to punish you.”

He stopped. This was where she could protest, and they both knew he’d drop the issue if she did. Or she could accept. She snuffled, still keeping her head down, and said, “Yes, sensei. Of course. I was very wrong, and I know I should be punished. I’m so sorry, Seamus.”

Her acquiescence seemed to come very quickly and easily. The thought crossed his mind: Did she engineer this? Am I being manipulated? He decided it didn’t really matter. “Then, bend over, Asuka. All the way down. Touch your toes with your fingers. No,” he said when she achieved that too easily. “Put your hands flat on the floor.” She obeyed again, and the uniform rose another inch, leaving a little more of her white-pantied bottom in the air.

“Hai, sensei.” Asuka was looking up at him, so her face upside down between her knees, her palms comfortably on the floor. She was, he knew well, a supple girl.

About half her panties and the plump intimacies of her lower bottom and upper thighs were exposed. Seamus wanted to kneel and kiss that feminine confluence, but this was something important, and a kiss would only be a distraction from it. They were both giving each other something that mattered to both of them. It had its own momentum and, he had to admit, its own pleasures.

“Take those panties down, Asuka. I’m going to cane you, not some cotton. Right down. Quickly, girl.”

When Seamus got home it was about eleven and he was still drunker than he was comfortable with. Asuka met him at the door, kneeling naked with a cane in her hand, and another on the floor beside her. The one on the floor had a bow, and a card that said, “For School Use”.

“That’s so you can give the other one back”, she said. “But this one,” she passed him the cane in her hand, “Is for you. To use on me. Here, at home.” He looked at it, dumbfounded: it was thickish bamboo, about the length of his arm.

While he did that Asuka busied herself with his pants and took his soft cock into her mouth. He’d thought he’d be too drunk to achieve an erection, but Asuka was skilled and enthusiastic and, his desire roused, he used the cane vertically on her bottom while she served him.

But when he was confident his erection was going to survive, he pulled her up by her hair, turned her, smacked her bottom and drove her in front of him to the bedroom. He pushed her back onto the bed, and crawled up until he had a hand on each thigh, and pushed them wide. He kissed her just above her little furred patch, and when she wriggled, lowered his face and began to pleasure with his lips and tongue, getting his face greedily wet while she closed her hands into fists and her back arched.

Even so, Asuka took a long time to come, letting small pleasure sounds escape while she held her orgasm off. At last Seamus thrust two fingers into her, to stroke upwards at spongy flesh, and focused his tongue, for the first time on her tiny, hard clitoris.

She raised her thighs higher and cried out once, in what he guessed she thought was an unladylike manner, and let her body sink back to the bed while she sighed happily.

Her gift of the cane, the rod for her own backside, changed the nature of their relationship, of course. Especially since Asuka was proud of the marks he left and liked to skip though his apartment naked, so she could catch glimpses of herself in the mirror.

He liked that a lot, having a naked, pretty, happy girl about the house, and her joy was infectious. And he found that the cane made her sexually more urgent and passionate and he had to acknowledge that wielding it had the same effect on him. And, oddly since she enjoyed her “punishments”, her attention to schoolwork – particularly Maths – did improve.

When they were more or less conscious and able to speak again Seamus smacked Asuka again, on her right hip, and said, “Good Asuka. Asuka is a good girl, my good girl.” She made a happy sound, though at any other time she’d have laughed at him for saying something like that.

They rocked together, vastly pleased with each other, until he started to soften inside her and he had to withdraw, holding the ring of the condom so it didn’t slip off inside her.

She straightened up, and arched her back, her arms out above her shoulders.

She turned. She kissed him. “Seamus! You were my first! Up my chokucho. And it was wonderful! I wish you’d been first in my pussy and my mouth too. But I’m glad I saved something for you.” Then she giggled. “You got my arse!”

Eventually they moved the low table back into its place, and she made Seamus sit at it cross-legged, while she warmed and served him sake, holding the little porcelain bottle between her breasts. He generally preferred beer, but Asuka liked making a fuss, and she made a protracted act of service when she brought him warm sake. He was sure she enjoyed it, partly as a tradition and partly as theatre. After she’d served him she wanted to cuddle, but he smacked her bottom hard enough to re-awaken the pain of her caning, and told her to make dinner.

He had a shower, changed into a robe and thick socks, becoming a salaryman at home, monarch, until he returned to work, of all he surveyed. Mostly he watched Asuka surreptitiously while she performed in the kitchen. She wasn’t used to cooking. He usually did that.

After he’d stopped eating she’d crawled to him under the table. She pushed him onto his back, gently, and pulled his robe away from his cock. She lowered her mouth onto it, and sucked him lazily, in no particular hurry. She’d told him she loved his cock in her mouth, and he’d eventually believed her. Seamus allowed her to please herself, for a long time under he felt urgency again.

He put his head in her hair and grabbed a handful. Then he pulled her down onto him, all the way until she choked and coughed and tried to come up.

He slapped her face, then, and she committed herself to serve him, working hard until he gasped, held her head close, and thrust into her mouth. She swallowed his come, and continued sucking him, slowly and less urgently until he was soft again. 

Much later that night, when they were in bed, tired and sleepy, Asuka kissed him and said she’d been sure that he would know how to be firm with her, and that he would have to be that way – “vey firm!” – from now on. He’d reassured her that he would.

He got up and collected the cane, and hung it on a hook above the bed. He’d have to buy another cane, he realized, so he’d have one for home use, and one for school. He expected that he’d only use the school cane on Asuka, too. Though anything was possible.

Then he returned to bed. She reached up and touched the end of the cane that now hung above her head. “For ‘uck,” she said. They cuddled until they rolled onto their sides, Asuka’s rump close to Seamus’s cock, and they slept.