Terry was scared. He'd seen canes before. He'd read posts about them, seen pictures and movies, and from what he knew canes seemed very, very mean. But I like canes. I like them very much, so I told him he'd be experiencing on this time and that he was going to learn to like it.
"Eep." was all he said.
I spent the weeks leading up to his visit talking endlessly about the more sensual uses of canes, their versatility, their range of sensations, all kinds of things. Terry was still not sure about this, but he is a very obedient little bunny. And he knew there would be stripes involved. Bunny likes stripes.
Finally the night arrived. As I walked across the room he stared at the cane like a mouse staring at a cat. Terry lay on the bed with his pants down, tense with anticipation and a little fear. When I put the cane down next to the bed he buried his face in the covers. He whimpered. I paused a moment to rub his back and his hair. He relaxed slowly under my touch.
He'd already had a very long, thorough warm up -more sensual than stingy- that left him warm and glowing but not really suffering. Now with is muscles loose again he was ready for the cane.
He turned to look at me. I smiled wickedly and began undoing the buttons of my blouse. He drew in a long sharp breath, his eyes glued to my fingers. Very slowly I peeled out of my clothes to reveal the lingerie set he talked of, dreamed about, drooled over. I stood still a moment to let him take in the view. Then I picked up the cane.
I started with a few gentle taps on one cheek, then the other. I pulled the cane back and gave him one gentle but firm stroke across both cheeks. He twitched a bit and moaned. I went back to the taps, a little harder this time. I continued that way, a few taps followed by a single stroke, gradually building up the intensity.
Somewhere along the way all sense of time became lost, so I don't know when we finally got around to full strength strokes, but we got there eventually. I gave him two sharp taps to warn him the blow was coming, pulled back and swung.
The cane landed with a harsh crack. Terry bucked and screamed, then dropped back down on the bed. I waited several seconds while he caught his breath, then went back to the gentle taps around his bottom.
We built up again slowly with the taps and strokes getting a little harder each time. Then two more sharp taps and the second full stroke. He took it not much differently from the first one. He voice sounded a bit more strained and a half sob escaped his throat, but he stayed where he was.
One last stroke to go. I'd told him he had to take three the first time. I don't know if he was counting, but I was. I didn't make him wait as long for the third one, but I still dropped back to the taps and brought the intensity up gradually. I gave him the warning taps. He flinched. I backed off and went back to the gentler massaging taps, building him up again. Again I gave the warning taps. This time he stayed relaxed. I brought down the final stroke.
Terry broke into tears. I put the cane aside and sat beside him on the bed. I gathered him gently in my arms, stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. I talked in a low, tender voice, telling him is was a brave little bunny, a good boy, and that it was all over. When he'd calmed a little, I reached down and rubbed his hot sore bottom.
I treated his bottom with ice and lotion, then we curled up to rest a bit before the next round of fun.
Ms. Betty
