There were seats on the midday L train from Bushwick back to Manhattan, but I decided to stand. I had just been caned for the first time by a very lovely and sweet, yet highly sadistic Domme and my ass radiated heat and pain. The thought of sitting was not in the least appealing. Even just standing hurt, and walking was worse, as I was reminded when I got off the train at 14th street.
The remarkable thing was how good I felt. As I made my way down the crowded sidewalk to my apartment, I was still floating on a heady cloud of adrenaline and endorphins which blended in with the pain that glowed from my burning ass.
Only a little more than an hour before, I had arrived at the basement studio of my Domme. When the door opened, she smiled such a sweet smile. She was the consummate sadist with the smile of an angel. She wore a leather catsuit. Her skin was pale and flawless, and her eyes flashed with dangerous delight.
"Come in," she said, as I felt myself drawn into her lair.
"Be right back," she said, disappearing behind a black curtain. I took off my clothes, hung them on the rack on the wall, and kneeled on the dungeon floor, waiting.
In a few minutes I heard the click, click, click of her heels on the floor. Then she was before me, towering over me as I knelt.
"So good to see you again," she whispered. She reached down, casually, almost absentmindedly and started toying with my right nipple. She started to squeeze, ever harder, adding a twist for emphasis.
I gasped slightly but managed to say, "Wonderful to see you as well, Domme."
I gazed up at her smiling down at me. She released my nipple and brought both hands up to gently stroke my face. "I am going to have such fun with you today," she said at barely more than a whisper. The she bent down and gave my ass a sharp swat.
I smiled. We had been discussing either a fisting or a caning session. She would either fuck my ass with her fist or thrash my ass with her cane. Either way the focus would be my ass.
"Your fist or the cane?" I asked.
She bent over to whisper in my ear. The warmth of her breath sent a chill coursing through me. "Both, she whispered. "Both." She gave my ass another hard swat with her hand and said, "Get on the spanking bench. Let's have some fun."
I climbed on the bench, wondering how much "fun" I would be having. I was feeling a wildly contradictory sense of exhilaration and of fear. I had never been caned but knew the cane's fearsome reputation. Was it a masochist's heaven or a decent into hell? I wanted the cane and I was scared to death of the cane.
I lay face down on the bench. The center portion supported my torso, leaving my ass in the air wholly exposed. The pads on either side kept my legs spread. My Domme started securing the straps that guaranteed my commitment to my imminent beating.
All that strapping took a while and it gave me time to get my mind adjusted to my fate. As she tightened the ankle straps and then the calves, I feel a moment's panic, the flight or fight response. But, it is too late. I breathed deeply to calm myself down. Would I be able to take the pain? Would it be more than I can bear? I had absolutely no idea. And it didn't matter. This was what I asked for. This was what I wanted.
My choice was not fight or flight. My only choice now, as my Domme tightened the strap across my lower back, was to submit and to surrender. She put cuffs on my wrists and shackled my hands down to the side of the bench. I was helpless, immobilized and ready to take whatever I was given.
My breathing was slow and deep. I could hear the clicking of her heels across the dungeon floor but could not see what she was doing. There was a ominous moment of silence and then "wham," I felt the tails of a flogger slam across my ass.
"Let's warm up that ass of yours before the main event," she said, as I feel the next blow. It was hard but not brutal, a stinging thud followed by a warm glow. And then there was another and another as I slipped into the rhythm of the flogging.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. I felt my Domme's hand sliding gently across my glowing ass.
"Such a lovely shade of red," she murmured, as if to herself.
I heard her walk back to the rack on the wall and then return. I heard the sound of a cane whistling viciously through the air.
She walked over to my head and bent down. "I will be giving you two rounds of six strokes each.
"Remember when you told me that you wanted a proper caning? Perhaps in the future you will be more careful what you wish for," she said with a sweet yet infinitely evil smile.
"I'll be using a 9mm dragon cane." I turned my head to look at it. It was long and slender with a red braided handle. She flexed it and tapped it against her hand. It was at once beautiful, commonplace and so very threatening.
"Do you wish to continue?" she asked. "It is your choice."
A wave of fear and anticipation washed over me. "Yes," I said barely audibly.
Her smile widened. "Good. Kiss the cane and you shall receive the proper caning you asked for."
She held the tip of the cane to my lips. I kissed it and closed my eyes.
She stepped behind me and I heard the cane whistle through the air several times. She was either warming up or trying the scare me to death.
"Count the strokes as you receive them."
"Yes, Domme," I replied.
Then she swished the cane through the air several times before the real swing, which hit my naked ass like a thunderbolt.
I let out a cry of shock and agony. The cane stroke felt like a blow from a rod of molten steel. My entire consciousness seemed to explode and the only thing I was aware of was the fire that threatened to consume me. An instant later, I was hit by the aftershock, a second wave of flame reverberating through my ass and up my spine. I was gasping for breath, trying to process the sensations that almost overwhelmed me, waves of pain breaking upon the shore of my ass. I forced myself to breathe, to sink into and to master the pain. To become part of the pain. I only partially succeeded.
