So I loved typing that sentence: “When I cane her, I cane hard.”

The woman I wrote it about both feared and loved the cane.

Most often I caned her as punishment for laziness or carelessness in her schooling or her training. Sometimes I just caned her because she has a great ass and I loved to watch the welts rise on her bottom and thighs, and to enjoy the way she writhed and plunged, grunted and squealed, when the cane landed. 

Being disciplined by me, for her good or my lust, made her feel safe, cared for and satisfied, and desperately cunt-greedy. 

So that phrase is about a world of entitlement. Caning her made her even more beautiful, and made her happy through her tears. I had the right to make that happen. It made her need my cock in her, urgently, wherever I chose to put it. So much heat and power. Such an entitlement.

You can work hard, and for years, to learn the skills, the right kinds of patience and strength, to try to make yourself into a man or woman who has something to offer a submissive. Something more than rope burns and an orgasm, good though those things are.

But good things don’t necessarily happen just because you want to deserve them. When bdsm brings you good things, it’s an extraordinary entitlement. It’s grace.