Fuck, this is so intense. I can feel my heart in my chest and her quiet sobbing noises are cutting through me like a knife.
And I haven’t hit her yet.
For the hundredth time, I wonder if I’ve got this all wrong and allowed her enthusiasm and bravery to get in the way of my own rationality and my knowledge of what it really is to be caned. It’s her first time, and it should really be two or three taps at the end of the session just so she understands that, in BDSM, caning is not one single march to the top of the mountain but a series of carefully judged pitches, each with its own preparation, its own challenge and its own aftermath.
What a first caning is not supposed to be is twelve strokes while tied tightly to the sturdy kitchen table in an unfamiliar woodland rental alongside a remote lake, somewhere in Maine. Somehow, in the chat before my trip the US, the five we started with had become ten and ten had become twelve.
She took them all. Of course she did. She’s strong and single minded and kinky as all fuck.
My aim in judging the weight of each stroke was to get her to 12 and for that to be the natural end; I really didn’t want there to be a thirteen. And that was how it was. The most beautiful part was to see her go from soft crying as I untied her to joyous delight as the endorphin-driven “after” feelings took hold.
The hug and the ‘thank you” she gave be made it perfect.
A funny thing happened in the middle of this. Having determined that the cabins nearest to ours were unoccupied, we decided we were safe doing this in the kitchen. Around stroke four I spotted a guy with a lawnmower heading up the path outside one of the uncovered windows. Rather than be 100% focussed on the submissive, who was struggling a bit at this point, I was rushing around putting towels over windows, trying desperately to keep her unaware of this potential interruption and in the right headspace.
We had a real good laugh about it afterwards.
More Sunday Sin here:
Your “people in Africa ……” made me smile
When my Mum would dish up something that didn’t appeal ,she would say “ Eat it all up -people in China would be glad to have it”
We used to answer “ so send this to China”
This is so exciting! Although, I also did have to laugh at your lawnmover man story too.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the mowing man. His timing sucked unlike yours which I am absolutely confident was perfect and the resulting marks seem to attest to that
Molly
I’m loving every moment of this. I can’t help but think of my own relationship with the cane when I read this. I’m excited for where this will go for you both. 💋