The Caning

She stood and watched as he moved the equipment, her heart pounding. He pulled the padded bar under the light, repositioning it several times.

"Stand on it now."

She did, stepping onto the little platform, resting her elbows on the bar.

He stood behind her, moving her a bit, placing her hands on the bar the way he wanted them, pulling her skirt up and tucking it into her waist.

"Perfect," he said as he stepped back and admired her.

She was already beginning to float a bit from the anticipation of what was about to happen.

He began to lay out his canes on the table. She peeked over her shoulder to watch without moving from where he had placed her. She watched him as he picked up each cane and laid them in order on the table. It was a ritual, take a cane out of the tube, slash it through the air a few times and lay it on the table in order of its use. When he had finished, there were eight canes of various lengths and thickness all lined up, waiting.

She was beginning to get wet.

He turned back to her, slid her panties down to her ankles, then stepped back just to look at her. Her skirt tucked up and her thigh high stockings made a perfect frame for her bare bottom.

He went up to her once more, pressed his body tight against her back and whispered to her.

"Are you ready my pet? This *is* going to hurt."

She shivered and mumbled, "yes Sir."

He gently rubbed his hand across her unprotected bottom.

"Shall we put clothespins on the welts when we are finished, my pet?"

She giggled at him.

He picked up the first cane, swished it though the air a few times for her to hear. She closed her eyes.

"Breathe" he said.

She took a breath just as the cane sliced through the air and exploded against her skin.

She let the pain envelop her; it traveled in waves causing her to rise to her tiptoes. She did not let go of the bar or move from her position. She did not make a sound.

He touched the bright red welt with his fingertips, smiled, and stepped back again.

Forced to Feel

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