This was another of those canings that had no disciplinary message. Just pleasure, and colour. We both loved the way Arethusa coloured, and striped, and I always felt it was my duty to keep her marks fresh.
But the man with the cane, at about this point, will pause and wonder if there should be more stripes, or whether his girl looks so hot that it’s time to move on to other things. There are pleasures and possibilities with either choice.
I know which decision I made. But reading this image, you’ll just have to guess.