When a caning is just what you need

Posted at 01:39 on 25 Mar 2011 by Pandora / Blake

Tags: cane, D, dominance and submission, kink, Real life punishment

Frustrated by not being able to run any other processes while editing video, I recently souped up my four year old Dell to a whopping 4GB of RAM - the maximum I can get without replacing the motherboard. It's much more capable of multitasking as a result, but file conversions and rendering still take bloody ages. I set the "Scrubbing a floor naked for 60 minutes" video I was putting together for my client rendering at about midday, and it's still going now. Admittedly that's an hour's film at DVD quality, but still. I need a new PC.

Since I'm not going to be able to sleep as long as my computer is whirring fit to take off, I may as well tell you about the spanking I got this evening. D and I left it far too long between dealing with my accumulated misdemeanours. It's been a horrendously busy month for me, so I've had little time for exercise; that, combined with snatched, tired time together meant that I'd built up a hefty score to settle. As he was doing the maths I groaned and asked if we could deal with some of it next time. I didn't expect him to go for it, but he did, and when I discovered that the total was over a hundred swats with the brush, I was relieved.

He let me go over his knee this time, and I was grateful - the physical contact made me less afraid, although it didn't really make it hurt less. I was due 42 this time for missed exercises, with 48 still to come; plus 12 for two missed check-ins. The 42 came in long, brisk sequences, more than six at a time, at least it felt like it; possibly in tens. Although I had the reassuring warmth of his thighs under my hips I didn't even get a rub inbetween sets, or a word from him, until we were most of the way through. I am developing a healthy fear of that brush, I can tell you; he doesn't even have to use it hard and it stings like hell.

I found myself experimenting with ways of processing the pain. Holding my breath. Clenching my teeth. Stuffing the duvet cover in my mouth. Kicking, yelling, cursing, hissing through my teeth. Taking deep breaths. Howling. Nothing helped me get through it except time and endurance, and then I was hanging limply over his lap, out of breath, amazed at the ability of that piece of wood to break through all my experience and enthusiasm to render me completely helpless.

The last twelve, for failing to make my daily check-in twice, were hard. I opted for the "yelling" approach this time.

Then it was over, and after a very welcome rub I got an affectionate smack, which my whole body responded to by going yes! That's more like it! That I can deal with! I communicated this to D, and got a lovely short, firm hand-spanking in return which, bizarrely, felt like balm to my blazing cheeks.

D reminded me that my health is more important than almost anything else, and when I'd conceded his point we settled into some serious cuddling. My arse was glowing hot with two hard round spots in the middle of each cheek. I huffed and exclaimed and took the piss out of myself for being such a wimp, and he tried to make me feel better:

"Whhhyyyyy did I sign up to this, I am so stupid."

"Because you're a good girl. And you want to be a better girl."


I bemoaned the strange effect the brush had on me - it's so weird that I can take canings so readily and this just flips me out, I have no way of processing it calmly. "Actually," I said, half in jest, "I could do with a caning right now, that'd make me feel like less of a wuss."

"Well, there's one right here," he observed.

So I lay over a pillow on the bed and offered him my throbbing arse, and D took advantage of my already being warmed up to thrash me soundly with the 12mm dragon cane that had been standing by the bed.

I didn't count the strokes - 24? 30? My whole body welcomed the familiar, beloved sensation. I breathed into it, bathed in it, until I was awash with pleasure.

And all was well with the world.


Oh, dear. Sounds *painful*.

From my past experiments with discipline I remember that sometimes your tally of strokes gets so huge that it almost becomes theoretical - it's hard to be scared of something this major. It even becomes easier to add strokes to the tally, because you kind of think, "I'm owed 90 already, I'm never going to be able to take it, so what's another six? Let's misbehave!"

A payment plan, so to speak, is a wise course of action, because it focuses your mind again on smaller parcels of pain, individual misdeeds, each of which is a choice - which is easy to forget when you're owed 172 strokes or something.

I find hard, fast OTK spankings by far the hardest to take. I don't have time to process the pain when it's fast, and I also feel much more firmly controlled than I do when I'm bent over some piece of furniture. After all, in that case, I make the choice to remain in position (more or less), but when I'm held securely OTK, I know I can't escape, even if I want to. It makes me feel small in a way I can't feel when I'm able to take a firm strapping or caning. Those punishments make me feel more like a grown woman than a little girl.

Of course, all that is independent of the purpose of the spanking. I'm beginning to think I should have gone swimming this afternoon...

Thanks for the description, Pandora. It sounds like it was a good disciplinary spanking. Kudos to D for not rubbing your bottom in between punishment strokes. After all, that part of it was meant to punish.

I do find it challenging at times to walk the line between doling out just enough strokes with just the right amount of force to be punishing, but not too much so that the spankee can't concentrate on learning her lesson.

I really got a kick out of reading your trying out different reactions. The sharp inhalations of breath are some of my favorite, along with those high-pitched squeals that seem to say, "I didn't realize a spank could hurt this much!" Lovely... :-)

I'm not sure if I've read the entire series on your discipline plan. Was there a reason that the bath brush was chosen? I'm curious because the strap or folded belt are my favorites for discipline, but of course, the efficacy depends on the individuals involved.

Anyway, great post as usual!


I have the same trouble processing the pain from a brush. There's something about the combination of speed, focused force, and the sound that affects me like almost nothing else does.

And though I'll admit I'm not generally a fan of the cane, this made me smile with a memory of an almost identical caning I took once upon a time. When it was over, J turned to me and asked why I'd wanted it, and all I could say was that I needed to get through it, to know/show him that I could, because I'd seemed to be struggling through so many of our scenes at the time. It certainly worked :)

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