The Caning

I’m going to
Cane you.
It’s going to
Happen.
You will use your
Safe words.
Tonight
I’m not stopping
For anything else.

Fuck.
He knows
My fear of
Being caned.
He knows
Its almost
Too much.
And he knows
I bought
Four cane like sticks.
And hid them
In my car.

I will start
Slowly.
Warm you up.
Give you time
To get used to
The pain.

Deep breath.
Face down.
Heart pounding.
Mouth dry.
I try to steady
My breaths.
In his
Firm voice
He says,
You’re gonna
Hyperventilate.
Calm down.
So I do.
Then he says,
More to
Himself
Than to me,
While running his
Hands over my
Unmarked skin,
This
Is gonna be
Fun.

And then
I hear
The swish.
I tense,
Bracing for it.
And then
I feel
The burn.
A line of
Fire
Melting into
Stinging heat.
He covers it
With his hand
To feel the
Welt rising.
Says, oh fuck yeah.
And then I
Hear
The swish
Again.

I soon get lost
In the pain pattern.
Swish.
Tense.
Burn.
Breathe.
I am hazy but
Vaguely aware
That he is
Working me
Carefully,
Talking to me,
Touching me,
Building me
Up
And calming me
Down,
Playing my
Mind
As much as,
Almost more than,
My body.

At some point
I surrender
To the pain.
Relax
Into it.
Float
On its waves.
No longer
Tense,
It’s just
Swish
Burn
Swish
Burn
Over
And over.
And then
He stops.
Asks me
Are you ok and
I say yes.
And then
I look over
My shoulder
And say,
Voice raspy,
Do it
Again.
And he
Smiles.
And he
does.

Later,
After,
He holds me.
Traces the stripes
Gently
Softly
With his fingers.
Soothes me
With his tongue.
And he says
Baby,
You did so good.
And I smile,
Laugh a little,
And think
Sweetheart,
So
Did
You.