It took me several weeks to pluck up courage to contact Mr B again, after going to him for my first spanking. But I did finally contact him and told him how much I had enjoyed being punished by his firm hand and asked if I could visit him again. When he responded, I was overjoyed that he said how much pleasure he had taken from making my bottom sore and he would happily do so again. I remembered how he had told me about one of his other "boys" who he had taken to his bed and used fully after a spanking, so I asked if he would consider using me in the same way. I said my bottom would be totally his.
His email reply came through the next day. He would grant my request of being fully used by him, but I would not gain access to his bed by merely being spanked; I would have to take a caning to prove myself worthy. I pondered this for a while, but then messaged back that I accept. I really wanted to please this man and let him have me totally. His dominant air had me under its spell and, right now, I could not think of one thing I would not do to gain his affection.
An appointment was fixed for the following week and I had to count the endless hours before the time came and again I found myself shivering nervously at his grand front door. Like the time before, it was his house-keeper who answered and ushered me into the lounge with a wry smile on her face, no doubt remembering me from last time.
"Remove all your clothes and wait here for Mr B" she instructed.
I did as I was told and stood waiting, trembling for several very long minutes before Mr B came in, dressed in his tweed suit complete with bow tie, like an English country doctor, with that lovely stale smell of pipe tobacco about him.
Surprisingly, he came over and hugged me to him, his tweed rough on my bare skin, his hands firmly on my buttocks, whilst he bent down and kissed me lightly on the lips.
"Nice to see you again my boy, you are quite a brave little fellow, aren't you?" he said,
"I am so looking forward to ploughing this tight little bottom!" giving my cheeks a tight squeeze,
"But first you must go through the pain barrier, so to speak." He chuckled then said,
"Be strong, it will be worth it."
"Now, let's get that bottom warmed up... bend over the chair, don't move, don't squeal, don't blub."
With that he started spanking each of my cheeks in turn, with firm rhythmical blows. I held on tight to the chair and took it as best I could, trying hard not to move; trying to earn his respect and earn a place in his bed. I kept this thought in my mind as the blows got harder and the pain in my backside intensified.
After several minutes he stopped for a rest and gently caressed by bottom, during which the house-keeper came into the room with a tray of tea. I stayed in position over the chair, as she poured Mr B a cup.
"Thank you Mrs Walsh, what do you think of my handiwork so far?"
"Very nice, Mr B, coming up a lovely shade of red."
"This young man wants to earn a place in my bed, so he's being very brave."
"He'll be in for a caning, then, I know you like purple stripes on a red cheek!" Mrs Walsh replied, as if this were a normal conversation about the weather.
"He certainly will, but I need to go upstairs and get ready, so will you take over and administer the cane please, Mrs Walsh? Remember, I want to feel raised welts but don't break the skin, I don't want blood on my nice clean sheets. Send him up when you've finished."
With that, he left the room; leaving me feeling very naked and very vulnerable in the company of a middle-aged house-keeper, who had very soon procured a stout cane, about three feet long, from the corner cupboard.
"Needless to say, this will hurt... a lot" said Mrs Walsh,
"But you obviously want to impress Mr B, so I suggest you try to take it the best you can... No silly squirming or yelling. If you can't take it, you can get dressed at any time and be on your way home."
The first blow stung like hell, she didn't hold back and I let out an involuntary yell.
"Don't be silly!" she said "we haven't started yet!"
The second blow was equally painful and I really started to think what had I let myself in for? was it worth it? But I bit my lip and thought of Mr B upstairs in his big bed and tried to put the pain out of my mind. This was easier said than done as the cane seared into my soft skin again and again, at the hand of a woman who clearly took great pleasure in her task. She rested after a dozen or more strokes and came over to feel my red hot buttocks, admiring her work.
"Coming along nicely, starting to raise welts already - you've obviously not had many canings have you boy?"
"Right, next dozen" she said and my heart sank. The strokes seemed harder, the pain was certainly more intense, but I now felt the stirrings of more than pain; a deep feeling of arousal, where the intensity of pain triggers feelings deep within similar to pleasure. I was spurred on also by the thought of joining Mr B upstairs. There was no way I was going to let the agony keep me from my goal. More strokes came thick and fast until, after what seemed like for ever, they stopped and Mrs Walsh said I could stand up, tears in my eyes.
"Let me feel" she said, trailing her finger tips over my punished buttocks.
"Mmmmm, like railway lines, just how he likes it!" Her face came close to mine and she gently wiped a tear from my cheek...
