There is something very meanly satisfying about sending someone off to the airport with cane stripes on his bottom.
Mind you, there weren't many. It was his very first, so he only got two, but they were good ones. He was not looking forward to sitting for several hours on the plane.
The cane wasn't all he got, of course. We started with a nice long otk warm-up first. "You call that warm?" he says. But really, I was nice.
He had to be at the airport by 10, so I spanked him at 8, first thing after my coffee. A very nice way to start of the morning. :) He's more tender first thing in the morning. I'll have to remember that.
We chose a nice wide selection of implements: my little homemade plastic flogger, my slapper, a ruler, a suede covered ping pong paddle, a nice heavy silicone spatula, and my favorite hairbrush. While I was making my choices he spotted a little homemade loopy johnny called the 'heart of fire'. He said it looked "interesting" so I added it to the pile. "Just remember you said that," I warned him. He suddenly looked worried for some reason. ;)
I sat in the center of the couch and took down his pants. This was a rare treat for me. Usually he sees me in the middle of the work day when he has to stay neat and pressed so I have him hang up his clothes before we start. This time though he'd opted for nice rugged jeans to travel in, so I got to leave them bunched around his ankles while I pulled him over my knee.
I started with my hand, spanking with crisp firm swats at a medium pace. It didn't take long for him to start turning a nice warm pink. I moved through the implements slowly, giving him plenty of time to experience each one before moving on to the next. I spanked at a moderate speed and intensity, working for a nice all over red, and adding a "zinger" every now and then. He kicked and wiggled a bit, moaning with the gentler smacks and crying out with the harsher ones. He sank into the spanking, enjoying the sting.
I spent a lot of time working his sit spots. I wanted the soreness to stay with him as he enjoyed his 3 hour plane ride. That spatula makes a particularly nice meaty slap and really gets into those hard to reach and oft neglected places. It was perfect for the job. He hadn't been quite awake when he arrived, but by the time I was done with the spatula he certainly was.
Another nice trick for getting hard to reach spots is to spread the cheeks and use a ruler vertically along the sides of the crack. This tends to produce some very lively reactions, especially done at a fairly hard and fast pace. I have been told this technique out to be banned by the Geneva Convention, but it's actually a favorite of his so I used it for a nice long time, searing those strips on either side of his crack nice and red.
I love my heart of fire. This is a homemade invention I built out of a grooved plastic jump rope that I found at my local grocery store. It got it's name because the two overlapping loops spread out when it lands, leaving heart shaped welts on naughty bottoms. And oh does it burn. I didn't use it long, but it was certainly an attention getter. I got some very lively wiggling out of him, and some nice loud yelps.
We finished off with a nice long dose of my favorite hairbrush, just to seal it all in. It smacked loudly against his sit spots as he wiggled a bit and hissed with the burn.
I put the brush down and had him hand me the lotion bottle. He relaxed as I worked the lotion into his very warm deep pink bottom. I let him rest for a few minutes, talking lightly as I nursed his skin. But we weren't quite done...
You see, this particular "boy" of mine tends to get himself into mischief any time he's out of town. My goal for today was to give him something to think about in case temptation started whispering while he was off on his own. Just a bit ironically, as he lay resting on my lap it was I who found temptation irresistible. I reached over and slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans. He began to protest that it was completely and totally unfair to use his own belt against him. He'd be scarred for life. He'd never be able to wear it again. I could not do that to him.
I did it anyway.
I bent him over the back of my desk chair and began to apply the belt to his bottom. Very soon he was very very red, howling a bit and protesting loudly. I paused and he, very sillily said something about giving up wearing belts for good. He'd just hold his pants up with rope.
"I can work with rope," I said. "And I do have other options if you decide to give up belts." I held up my latigo strop. "This does quite nicely."
I landed a single lash of the strap across his bottom. He hollered. Suddenly he decided he liked being spanked with his belt just fine. That being the case, I picked it up and started spanking him with it again. He still hollered, but there were no more protests, just a big sigh of relief when I put the belt down.
Now, there was just one thing left: the cane. About 18 months ago, when I spanked him for the first time, we played a bit with the cane, very lightly, but this was the first time he'd feel it "for real". As he stayed bent over my chair I reminded him of the cute little stunt he'd pulled the last time he'd been on a business trip. I told him I wanted to make sure there weren't any repeats of that, so he was going to get just a taste of what the consequences could be if he got the inspiration for any more practical jokes. I tapped the cane lightly against his very red bottom. He wiggled. I waited for him to settle, pulled back the cane, and swung. He screamed as his knees buckled under him. He hissed and gasped as the pain spread. I waited for him to put himself back into position and swung again. This time he should straight up when it hit, screaming again.
I ran my hands over his back, talking in a soothing tone as he settled down. Two very clear lines crossed his cheeks. Poor dear. I fetched some ice from the kitchen and took him by the hand back to the couch where I laid him back over my lap. I ran the ice over his very hot and sore bottom. He shuddered as the it melted on his skin. I added a coat of arnica, then let him get up and pull his pants up.
We sat on the couch and talked for a bit. Well I sat, he sort of leaned on the side of his hip to spare his bottom.
As he started to leave I suddenly realized his belt was still on my desk. He winced "Ah no, you can keep it. I don't want it," he said. "I don't need that thing. I'll just get another one."
"Alright, then I'll just have to spank you with that one when you get back."
His eyes widened. "I can't win this, can I."
"Ah, no." I handed him his belt.
He left for the airport and I sat back thinking about him going through the security line at the airport with his sore bottom, standing there handling the belt that had helped make it that way.
Ms. Betty
