Cane and Punishment

Cane and Punishment

She didn't need to be punished.

I knew that, and she knew that.

But she did need to be punished.

I knew that, and she knew that.

This Risk Management Analyst in her early 50's was bent over her rustic aged-wood picnic-type dining room table in her Craftsman-style house. Beth rested on her elbows with her slacks bunched down around her ankles. They were down there because I had personally pulled them down there.

Now I was waiting. Just pacing behind her, slapping the cane in my hand, while she rested on that table with her head down. I knew how crazy this drove her. That's why I did it. And I tried to do it a little more each time.

The skylight and windows let in a generous amount of natural light, lending the room a warm, engaging ambience. A dinner party here would be nice. The light was both flattering and unflattering for her. It really highlighted the dark red shade in her short, dyed hair. But it left nothing to the imagination for her body. I know enough about how these middle-aged women feel about their bodies as they age. It's really no different than how we men feel, just deeper, more intense. I may not have been in bad shape for my 60's, but who wouldn't sell their soul for their 29-year-old waistline?

I hope it would please her to know that from my vantage point, she was really in pretty good shape. A little rounder, a little more substance as she'd aged, but she took care of herself. Exercised, ate well. It showed as I knelt behind her and pulled her panties down. Nice round full butt cheeks. A little softer and filled out from maturity, but quite attractive. Perfect targets for a cane, with some age spots and freckles here and there, and the fading imprints from our last session.

All natural. All nice.

Every time I got my face that close, I thought about how I'd like to fuck that ass. To spread those fleshy cheeks apart and rub my cock up and down her ass-crack, and between her asshole and cunt. Then take some real time to work the tip of my cock in, opening her up for the very first time. Watch her start to glisten as her body-scent turned a touch bitter with the sweat, while she took the kinds of deep breaths that makes the whole body shudder. Then stop and luxuriate in that feeling of getting in just past her sphincter. Just hold her hips with my tip in there, listening to and feeling her body acclimate itself to it's new reality, coming to terms with the fact that it had all gone too far to stop now. She was going to get her ass fucked, and how much it hurt depended on the man fucking her. She was at his mercy.

That was always the best part, for me anyway. That one brief minute that seemed to stop time as I held my tip in there. The second best part was when I eased out and eased back in, and took the time to work it in slowly now that I'd opened up her sphincter, until I gradually hit bottom, with my body resting against her glistening ass. The feel of a woman's ass squeezing your cock while she opens up is maybe the best feeling your cock ever feels. It's really hard and tight there for a bit, especially if it's their first time. I could honestly just cum right there if I wanted to. But who wants to do that and spoil all the fun?

The feelings all get jumbled up, of course. You would think the best part would be the release, cumming in her bowels after the long, hard, sweaty fucking to get there. But after the euphoria of that has long faded, it's the first penetration that lingers on. That what the mind always comes back to. That's the moment of truth.

But none of that was going to happen. It was not part of our arrangement.

Her trajectory in life up to this point probably seemed beyond cliché. Beth had done the marriage-career-mother-homeowner thing and wound up with all these repressed desires when the nest had emptied a few decades later. Honestly, she and her husband had handled it better than most. They took what remained of their relationship to counseling instead of the myriad of unhealthier alternatives.

And all these dark desires she'd been holding in started spilling out during those sessions. She'd been reading online, and decided she was a sub. Being dominated turned her on. She'd always sort of known, she'd just never had the guts to verbalize it before. And her husband halfway confirmed what she'd always feared. He wasn't into it. It was too weird for him. But he still wanted to hang on to the marriage, and so did she. She did some serious negotiation, played the cards she had, and got permission to start looking for alternatives to address her needs. But no fucking anyone else. That was his red line. And she was honest, so she would honor that.

I met her at a crowded munch in a dark pub. Beth was doing the right thing by establishing herself online on F*t, and progressing to munches. She was meeting people, forging friendships, and getting some eye-opening firsthand accounts of reality in the BDSM community. We met and talked a bit in the carousel of mingling. I didn't think anything of it. She was pleasant and nice, but it's not like there was some electric connection sparking between us. But I guess she was intrigued. She reached out to me on F*t out of the blue one day, and a conversation started. She asked me about my experiences, and after a week or so of back and forth, asked me the big question...

... Would I be interested in punishing her?

Well... maybe?

She invited me over to her home in South Pasadena to discuss it further. Besides our messaging, she'd been asking around about me, and felt comfortable about this. The fact that I wanted to discuss it instead of just jumping in probably confirmed that I was a rational adult, and not some cautionary tale waiting to happen. Also, she did not want to get down to the explicit details in a crowded Starbucks.

So she laid out her situation over some iced tea in her living room. I'd heard plenty of variations of this story before, and I was basically a variation of it myself. So no snooty judgments on my part. What it came down to was that she had to act on these desires while she still could, but also honor her husband. The idea of being punished excited her. So would I be up for dominating and punishing her, without the option to fuck?

To be honest, it wasn't something I'd ever considered before. Sex & BDSM were tightly woven for me. I never could understand this separation that some people seemed intent on evangelizing for. It smacked of being a new strain of virtue signaling in the kink world. Dominance & submission have nothing to do with the core of our eroticism? Sure, tell me another one. Better to be honest about these things, and be clear about where fucking fits in the scheme of things.

But, that is just one man's opinion. I should be clear on that.

So it wouldn't have been my go-to choice, but I was intrigued. I'd never felt an intense attraction for her, and I suspected the feeling was mutual. But she was friendly, interesting, and yes... attractive. I found myself imagining how it would be to dominate her. I wanted to experience how she reacted when the hand or implement struck her bare bottom. I wanted to hear her whimper, and scream, and apologize through her tears. And I thought, maybe I could be ok stopping at just that, and going home with a raging hard-on instead of doing something about it with her.

I certainly appreciated her openness and honesty, which are essential elements in the world of kink. Without those, you have nothing. She was investing a lot of trust in me, to guide her in her first journey into kink. I felt honored. I also felt a great sense of responsibility.

So I agreed, and we got down to basics. She wanted punishment to form the primary framework of our dynamic. So, what did she need to be punished for? This stumped her a bit. Honestly, she was kind of a "good girl" naturally. I sure couldn't come up with anything, with what little I knew about her. Sure, we could just make something up, or pretend we were punishing her while really just spanking her for nothing. But I felt we needed something real to underpin this whole thing, and it came to me after a long drag from my iced tea.

I had been married before, so I sure knew what that was like. In every marriage, or long-term relationship, cracks and fissures develop. No matter how hard two people try, they are going to rub up against each other, and develop ways to dance around that for the good of the marriage. That gave me something to work with.

I proposed that she make a deal with her husband. Every time she said or did something he considered a punishable offense, he would write it down on a list. He would never share this list with her. She would pass a sealed envelope from him on to me, and I would then select the transgressions that I felt merited punishment. I would not allow her to have the option of arguing against them.

This caught her by surprise. It was the last thing she was expecting. But with my encouragement, she agreed to ask him. I suspect it didn't take much convincing. He probably saw the benefits to this right away, since I got a message to set up a "play-date" the very next day.

I showed up to her house the next week. She wanted to do it there, because that's where she felt comfortable. That was fine by me. We had a four-hour window where her husband knew not to be there. On the appointed day, she opened the door and welcomed me in. Per my instructions, she wore her usual casual jeans and blouse. As much as I love fetish-wear, I felt this would fit our scene better.

Once she closed the door, she handed me the sealed envelope. I opened it up in front of her, and started reading through it. It made for quite some reading. In just the space of less than a week, her husband had jotted down 22 "violations." That's quite a lot, in my estimation. She had a very catty tongue around him, at least as far as he was concerned. That's where most of them came from.

She was incredibly nervous while I looked through her transgressions, fidgeting by the door. I'd never seen her this way. She was much more composed at the munch and our prior meeting. But I understood it. It was so close to being real now, and that brings the jitters. So I did what any gentleman would do...

... I took my sweet time scanning up and down the list while she fidgeted and fidgeted. Hey, a guy's got to get his amusement somewhere.

After I "finally" got through reading the list, it was time to start. The confident, decisive person I'd come to know wasn't at home anymore. She needed me to lead her on from here. I'd scoped out the dining room table as a suitable spanking bench the last time I was here, so I guided her there, told her to bend over it, and rest on her elbows. When I'd got her where I wanted her, I crouched down behind her.

She shivered as I pulled her jeans down to her ankles for the first time. No one had come close to her like this since her husband in two decades. Once I had those jeans down, I told her to wait, and went out to my car. I purposely kept my implements out there for this. I knew that extra minute alone like that would drive her crazy while she tried to stay still. I selected a paddle for this first day.

Beth had to suffer the excruciating experience of listening while I opened the door and came back in without saying anything. Laying bent over a table with your pants down with an unlocked door in the daytime is bound to be nerve-wracking. No matter what, I knew some part of her would wonder if it was me or someone else coming in that door.

Once I was back, we went over all the rules, and then it was time to start. I picked number 11 on her husband's list of transgressions: That time she cut one of his jokes off at a dinner party last week.

Of course, it was ridiculous. But that made it even better, and I was going to make her pay for it, whether she'd actually done it or not. And not only did she not argue, but I had a feeling she would have agreed to anything at this point just to finally feel that first spanking. The dream was so close!

I crouched down again, and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled her cool light blue panties down. Her ass gradually revealed itself, and then I guided them past her thighs, and down her legs, until they lay with her jeans around her ankles like discarded refuse.

I stayed down there for a good long minute, just taking her ass in. I looked it over carefully, mapping out every spot and freckle for recall later. I knew the total silence had to be just winding her up. Only her husband had seen for so long. I leaned in to breathe it in, and wonder how it tasted.

I was rock hard when I stood up, of course. Oh well. Time to really get started. The first thing she ever felt across her ass was my hand spanking her. From the look on her face (what I could see of it), and her body language, the shock to her system was profound. She'd crossed over from that land of dreams now. She took some long seconds to let the shock of her system subside, and then recited her apology as directed in my rules.

"Thank you, sir. Number one. Please forgive me for interrupting my husband last week. It won't happen again."

SLAP!

The same apology again, keeping track of the number. She was going to atone for three transgressions, with ten strikes per transgression. I used my hand for this first transgression, and could already see some red. I felt it in my hand as well, and was ready to move on.

Her second transgression was for getting all huffy with an attitude when her husband declined to use valet and just park on the street. She got the paddle for this one. It hit harder, and really made a difference, even though I was holding back, trying to gauge what she could handle. There were little exclamations of pain caught in deep breaths as she struggled to keep her composure during her punishment. But, she got through it ok.

I took a short break after that set to get a glass of water and tip it into her mouth so she could drink a little. Sweat was running down her face now, and maybe even a tear. She leaned in as I caressed her face, and then I got back to it.

Third transgression was a big one: hogging the blanket during the night on their last ski lodge trip. The nerve of that brazen hussy!

She only made it through five apologies for her act of selfishness when she called time out with her safeword. I put the paddle down on the table and asked her how she was. It took a few moments to compose herself. She said it was painful, and she just didn't think she could go on. Would that be all right?

Of course it would. It was just her first time, after all. After pulling her panties and pants back up, she stood up as she sort of awkwardly buttoned them back up. She said she really felt like she needed some aftercare, and would that be all right? So we cuddled together on the couch. She leaned in to me with her legs curled up on the couch.

After some decompressing, she was ready to discuss it. It had been a heightened experience, and she was still processing. Reality was so different than fantasy. In some ways, the reality was more mundane than what the mind could conjure up. That was inevitable. But there was an emotional intensity to it that she hadn't seen coming. I don't know if any of us ever do. Also, the pain in her backside was real. She wasn't acclimated for that yet.

It was all fine, I assured her. The point wasn't to make it to the end of a list, it was just to get started down this road, and see how it went. Cuddling was nice. She brought up the fact that we couldn't go any further, and apologized profusely for it. I'm sure she was feeling some heat. How could she not? Would something have happened if I'd leaned in for a kiss? Would she have said the hell with it and let me take her there on the couch?

We'd never know. It wasn't worth violating our trust to find out.

We did not discuss making a plan for another session before I left. She needed to sleep on this, to ruminate. So I encouraged her to fuck her husband as soon as he came home, and left. She reached out to me two days later. She couldn't stop thinking about her punishment, and appreciated my domination of her that day. Also, she'd taken my advice with her husband, and it had been memorable for the both of them. With some time to reflect, she'd decided she'd like to try again.

That was three months ago. We've been meeting for a punishment session every week or two ever since then. I've lost count of how many transgressions she has paid for. But her behavior hasn't been getting any better, and it's been doing wonders for their marriage.

So here I was again. On my knees, staring at that nicely rounded ass I've studied so much in the last three months. The one I've punished for so many tiny infractions, according to her husband. Maybe she was wondering what was going on, as the past three months flashed through my mind. No matter. Time to get on with it.

Her first infraction of the day was for a flash of impatience for her husband to cum while sucking his cock. Yes, these infractions had been getting more and more interesting since we'd started.

SWISHHHH... SWIP!

"Ouch! Thank you, sir. Number one. I am sorry that I was impatient for my husband to cum while sucking his cock. Please forgive me."

I'd settled on the cane as the implement of choice. It was a natural choice, since it was the one she hated most. We were up to five infractions a session now. That meant she'd be getting a good 50 with the cane. That's a lot, so I went very easy for the first 20, gradually ratcheting it up so that her butt could take it all. But no matter how easy I went... she felt it.

I had a shaken sub with tears all over her face and a very red butt crisscrossed with stripes to look forward to later. And she looked forward to it as well. So did her husband, who would benefit from it as soon as he made it in the front door.

I had some other subs to occasionally play with that took the edge off. But Beth and her husband had been discussing how unexpectedly beneficial this had been for the both of them in counseling. She hinted at a possible re-negotiation in the future if we kept up our arrangement. I knew exactly what I was going to negotiate for as I eyed my target and angled up for my next swing.

SWISHHHH... SWIP!