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With a kind hand he guided me over the table again, my naked upturned rear awaiting his further punishment. I resolved to take this with more courage than I’d shown so far.
Choosing the strap, he wasted no more time with words. The instrument flew through the air landing squarely on my behind. I jolted but didn’t wiggle away, nor did I cry out. Another stroke landed, and I felt my bottom begin to burn again. What had subsided to a soft warm glow became painfully heated.
The strap continued to land with great efficiency. I gasped and moaned, but found the pain much more pleasurable than the paddle. Something about the leather I think; and about Reggie’s delivery. By design, he was not administering punishment as fiercely as he might. If I wriggled at all, it was from the erotic passion he unleashed in me. However, after some minutes of the welcome treatment, the tenor of the punishment began to change. The strokes commenced fast and ruthless until he reached a peak with an alarming flourish.
I cried out unable to hold back any longer.
“NO MORE PLEASE!” My voice rose into the air, impassioned and woe.
Beyond erotic pleasure now, the burn was as fierce as it had earlier been with the paddle. How could he expect me not to raise a complaint?
“I’d suggest you hush,” he told me in a civil tone. “I can go on a long time. I wonder if you can.”
I quieted, smothering my protests as Reggie lay on the blows ever more efficiently. Each one seemed worse than the one before. Reggie finally stopped, just before I was about to collapse against the table, an act that would have made him furious.
The sudden quiet was remarkable.
“You’ll take eight cuts of the cane when we return, four from me, four from Mr. Winningham. You can think about your recklessness until we’re ready. I suggest Alexandra, that you remember what you are about. This dishonesty of yours does nothing but hurt you, and I’m not speaking in the physical sense. This is only a symbolic gesture, certainly your heart is suffering from your duplicity. Will certainly deserves to be treated with respect, not contempt.”
He left with that thought lingering in my mind. The shame of my transgressions spelled out so boldly, would continue to come back to haunt me. I found it strange, Reggie teaching me lessons in morality. Rarely had I felt such judgment from him. He’d taught me of my submissive nature, and though he denied it when we first met this time, I still wondered if he felt some responsibility for my lack of discipline and honesty with Will.
Left alone still bending over the old table, I had some time to ponder my situation. My ass end was likely quite a shade of crimson at the finish of the punishment; but that crimson was also likely fading with each second that passed. I breathed deeply trying to settle myself in anticipation of that dreadful cane. When Reggie and Mr. Winningham finally returned, I felt a welcome breeze further cool the fire on my once flaming cheeks. I had no desire to endure what was to follow, but at least the caning signaled the end to this chapter in my atonement.
“Since Mr. Winningham has been so kind as to procure these instruments, he’ll take the first cuts,” Reggie announced.
I’d never endured the fierceness of a cane, though my imagination could easily conjure all sorts of horrors it might inflict. Waiting seemed far worse than the punishment itself would be, though it wasn’t long before I discovered how wrong I was.
I sensed the shop proprietor move close to my backside, while Reggie waited some distance away. The man gently tapped my rear with the instrument as if to prepare me for what was to follow. What a deceiving sign that gentle tapping turned out to be. Seconds later, I heard a soft swish, and then felt a sharp pain as he landed the first searing cut. It nearly knocked me from my feet, which made me thankful that I was leaning against the sturdy table. Mr. Winningham was efficient. The following three strokes landed one after another, each with the same sharp pain shooting rocketing through me. All the pain I felt before came angrily roaring back. My immediate thought was to bolt, but that was out of the question. I asked for this and I would get through it.
Mr. Winningham’s final cut sent me into a fit of dancing and jiggling and vibrant cries. The old man was done, but there were still four left from Reggie.
“Oh, please no! Haven’t I had enough?”
Reggie moved to my side and put his hand on my ass to settle me.
“You need me to double the count?”
“No!”
“Then settle down.” He was stern, like an admonishing father.
“Sorry.”
He returned to the proper position. “You’ll have to take a look at your ass when this is over, see what it’s willing to take.” My bottom must have been quite a sight. Likely there were little marks from the previous punishment as well as those from the cane.
I was glad that Reggie would finish this. Though Mr. Winningham’s punishment had been quite effective, there was something personal, more intimate in a caning from Reggie. No one knows me the way he does, perhaps not even my frustrated Will.
Stepping back, he delivered the first cut with the savage implement landing on my bottom with a zeal equal to Mr. Winningham’s. For the life of me, I don’t understand why, but it seemed that the quality of the cut was different from the others, as if some degree of caring was involved. Did I really feel some affection from Reggie, or did I just hope to?
The second cut was as vicious as the others and I yowled loudly. The only good thing was that there were just two left. My body was bursting with desire. Even as terrible as this was, I could not escape a feeling of satisfaction sweeping through me. I cried loudly with the third cut, and then again with the fourth. The end proved to be cathartic and my tears flowed again.
“Stand up,” he ordered, not allowing me to collapse against the table, even for a second.
I struggled to my feet and turned around to meet him face to face. I tugging at my dress, wanting to cover my aching behind. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but they were ignored as I looked at Reggie’s stern expression. I wondered if he was really displeased with me or if this was just part of the game he played so well.
He reached around laying his hand on my bottom while his eyes bore into me.
“Don’t let yourself forget this too quickly.”
