Last Wednesday night’s Maintenance session was a relief for both of us. My wife was all chewed up about an issue at work and I needed a serious whipping.
I got home early and prepared a meal and then made the preparations in the bedroom. I set out just the three canes we have and the Spencer paddle, the long one with holes.
I took a shower and pushed my luck by putting on my red punishment panties as a treat. Normally I might get told off for presuming to put on knickers without being specifically instructed to do so.
When she came into the bedroom my wife was brusque and to the point. She had had a lousy day with argumentative men and it was going to be my bottom that she would use for stress relief. I was over the bench very quickly and the panties were pulled up so that the flimsy material offered no protection to my cheeks. The instruction was to stay still for 30 with the paddle and then sixty with the cane. I lifted my bottom up by standing on my toes as I stretched forward across the bench.
The paddle strokes were quick and powerful. The smarting was immediate and I struggled to get my breathing synchronised with the impact of the loud smacks. As she raced through the smacks my wife kept muttering about the uselessness of men and how she would like to thrash them to teach some manners. At least, she said, she did not have that sort of trouble at home.
When the paddling ceased I thanked my Goddess and waited, blazing bottom in the air and a stiff erection squashed into the surface of the bench as I rested.
The cane swished behind me and from the sound I knew that it was the thin whippy one, which she finds difficult to control. In a few seconds I had taken four strokes where the tip of the cane wrapped around the side of my bottom. She scolded me for putting on the knickers without asking me and told me to make a note of 6 strokes of the cane in our punishment book.
The caning continued and my bottom felt good and hot. She was getting her eye in and the strokes were well placed now, up and down my cheeks from top to bottom. After maybe twenty strokes with the thin cane she threw it to the ground and took up the thicker one with the crook handle. I could identify it before it hit me because of the deeper whoosh sound it makes. She whizzed it up and down vertically behind me to intimidate me and make me flinch. I did!
Then she started with one heavy stroke after another. I let my mind go free and just enjoyed the heat of the strokes. When she finally stopped I wanted nothing more than to lie there and take more cane strokes. She came round in front of me and using the tip of the cane under my chin she made me lift my head to look her in the eyes.
I hope you enjoyed that, she asked.?
I said yes, and thanked her.
Well then, she instructed, come back in half an hour and you can show me your grateful thanks.
A great mid week session and I am grateful for my Goddess’ attentions, as the marks of the cane are still evident two days later.