“Five, ma’am,” Sara says between tears. Her body shakes and her panties fall from her thighs all the way to her ankles. I take note on where the cane marks are placed on her bottom, and I make a mental note to ensure she gets equal attention on every part. When caning a girl, I personally prefer to begin on the buttocks and gradually move down to the thighs. I have learned through trial and error which areas on the buttocks are the most sensitive, and I make sure to cane the girls the most on those areas.
Sara shrieks, and takes half a step forward. It is quite difficult to maintain a standing position while bending over without support, so I place a chair in front of Sara for her to rest her hands.
“Six ma’am,” Sara cries.
We are now halfway though the caning, so I give Sara another “teasing tap” to test her sensitivity. She jumps at the softest touch of the cane, so I am pleased I’ve instilled a sense of fear and respect for the cane. I hold the cane against her buttocks for several seconds before taking the next swing.
“Seven, ma’am,” Sara cries. She grips the chair hard, trying to put the pain out of her mind. I swing again.
Sara emits a noise that does not sound like a number, so I wait to hear it. She sobs for several seconds.
“Sara?” I ask.
“Ei-eight, ma’am,” Sara says between breaths.
“That’s what I thought I heard,” I say. “But if I have to ask again, the stroke will be repeated, understand?”
Sara quickly nods her head.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sara says. I examine the cane marks on her behind. I made sure to put several on the very lower part of her buttocks and some on her upper thighs, or her “sit spot.” In this way, I’ve ensured that Sara will find sitting in any position comfortably for the next seven to ten days to be impossible.
With her buttocks thoroughly caned, I decide to place the last four cane strokes on the very sensitive inner thigh area. All girls absolutely hate this, so I find it makes an impressionable finale for an effective caning experience.
“Now Sara, you’re going to spread your legs apart for me, nice and wide,” I say.
Sara sniffles for a second, and then steps out of her panties that have gathered around her shoes. She spreads her legs apart as I asked.
“Wider,” I say. “As wide as you can. There, that’s a good girl.”
Sara now has her legs almost at a ninety-degree angle, relying on the support of the chair to keep her standing. This will make it much easier for me to cane the very soft and sensitive inner thigh area just below her buttocks. Being caned in this area is absolutely excruciating, to the point that many girls I punish in this manner often become uncooperative.
Sara takes solace in having been told that she is “a good girl,” and that is precisely why I tell her so. I have found that giving the girls a compliment often helps ease them into a sense of greater complacency, which is necessary when administering such a severe punishment as this. With the comfort of those words, Sara, out of fear of disappointing me, will make an extra effort to remain cooperative for these final four strokes against such a very sensitive part of her body. I’ve learned through years of experience that this is a very effective method of manipulating the girls into submitting to punishments far more severe than they might normally be able to tolerate. Sara does not realize it, but I’ve just manipulated her into lowering her emotional defenses. She has made herself vulnerable to immense pain, but all she is thinking about is how pleased she is that she has just won my favor. Now, I’ve ensured that Sara is both physically and emotionally ready to have her punishment carried out to completion
I mentally plan my next four swings, and I take the first swiftly.
Sara’s squeals have now graduated to full on wailing. It is possible she has never experienced this much discomfort in her life.
“Nine, ma’am!” Sara screams. I nod and swing again.
“Ten, ma’am!” Sara screams. Even through her anguish, Sara might be making the mistaken assumption that she should be happy she only has two more strokes remaining. However, even if I were to stop caning her now, her agony would continue to last for hours. The worst part of a caning is effectively not the caning itself, but the aftermath. Sara will find this out very soon to her great disappointment. I cane Sara again.
Sara sobs. She takes a breath. She sniffles.
“Eleven, ma’am!” Sara says, with almost no strength left in her voice. It is now time to administer Sara’s final stroke. For you gentlemen who are currently stroking your swollen and hard members, now may be the time to release your loads, and shoot that creamy white goo all over. I raise the cane once more, and dispense the final stroke against Sara’s naked bottom.
Sara does nothing but cry. Perhaps it is the pain, or the relief of being finished, but she cries, and says nothing more.
“Sara?” I ask.
“Twelve, ma’am!” Sara says. I shake my head.
“I shouldn’t have had to prompt you,” I say.
“No, please!” Sara pleads, between her tears.
“Once, more,” I say, and I swing the cane again. Harder, since I had to repeat it.
“Twelve, ma’am,” Sara says again.
“That’s better,” I say. “What a shame, you failed to count on your last stroke.”
Sara’s beautiful bottom now features brutal red and blue cane marks across both cheeks, the back of her thighs, and on her inner thighs. I place the cane across my desk.
“Sara, you may stand now,” I say.
Sara painfully pulls herself to her feet. She turns to face me, and I can see her face is stained with tears. She will never forget this moment for the rest of her life.
“Now what do you say?” I ask.
“Thank you,” Sara says. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” I say. “Now, before you dress, you may put the cane back in its place against the back wall.”
Sara obediently takes the cane from my desk, and places it exactly where she was told. She walks slowly and uncomfortably, as she will for several days. Sara dresses herself, wincing in pain as she pulls her panties back up over her swollen behind.
Once she is fully dressed, she turns back towards me.