I've always, in my fantasies, loved the swish of
the cane. Even in cartoons the writing of the word ...SWISH...or SWISHHHH!!!
with a few extra letters for emphasis... has always appealed to
me. Yet I've had the cane many times, as you know, and hardly noticed
the swish, I was thinking about it on the weekend, where did all the swishes go?
I mean I can remember a few but by no means all, nowhere near in fact, and
yet swishes must have been there. I suppose my mind was preoccupied with
other considerations, my bottom not the least.
Well I got caned on the weekend, it's why I was
thinking about swishes. There were quite a few of them, more than thirty I
know for sure because I kept count in sets of six up to that point and
there were a few after because my husband thought my bottom needed some
diagonal lines and a few before it started, for theatrical effect and, as
he put it, to get his swing in, whatever that means.
But back to swishes. It was the pre-caning
theatrical ones that got my mind going, they were louder than I could ever
remember them being and they made me shudder, in fact I didn't want the
caning and I was whimpering at each swish and thinking how mad I must be.
Then it started and it was 'Swish...Crack', of course, the extra sound of
cane on bottom and the awful bite to distract my thoughts. As you can
imagine, or those of you who have been caned will know, it got more
intense as wriggling and pleading and 'Be quiet girl' and 'You're having your bottom caned because I said so' and the like came into it all of which add
to what makes a caning an 'experience' for me.
After it was done and I'd been caned to my
husband's satisfaction and left to get over it while he went downstairs to
start preparing a wonderful gourmet meal for two, I thought again about the
swishes. I got up, my bottom flesh was tight which made me smile and
wince at the same time, and picked up the cane he'd just used then
retrieved our curly handle one and the otk one with the detachable handle which
we took to Ireland. I swished each one of them a few times and the sounds were
different. Then I did the same in the office and again in our son's
occasional room and noticed the sounds were different not just between
each cane but in each room, presumably because of size, furnishings perhaps even
whether the windows or door were open, I didn't try every permutation. The
'swishiest' sounding cane was definitely the one he'd just used, you can
bend it almost double, the least swishy sounding was the curly school cane which
is much more rigid.
I told my husband what I'd discovered over our
starter (baby squid plus my first ever scallop - which I didn't like) and he
said it was good analysis. Good fucking analysis, I thought, this wasn't a
business meeting for christssake, then he asked me what was wrong with my
scallop and I told him I didn't like the texture so he had it and gave me
some squid in return, then he asked me how my bottom was and I coyly told
him it hurt. He seemed pleased with that.
We had a Portuguese dish of clams with crispy
belly pork as a main course, it was delicious did I ever tell you my husband is a
decent cook? Oh OK. I brought up the swishing thing again, only briefly, to
let P know it had quite frightened me hearing it before he'd caned me, he
told me it was right that a girl should be quite frightened before she's
caned, then he asked me if there had been any other feelings in with the
fear. I went coy again and felt myself blush, I didn't answer, I didn't need to. Then we reverted to other stuff. He helped me clear away and do
the dishes, touched my bum a couple of times in the kitchen, fuck it does things
to me, and we watched a movie later with a bottle of Rioja.
We went to bed early and I sucked him off, god he
was full and I swallowed as much as I could, then we went to sleep me with
my caned bottom pressed into his lap. P was awake early he always is Sunday
morning, he still fetches the newspaper from down the road even though he
can read several on line, he woke me too with his hand between my legs. It didn't
take me long to respond and I reached across to find his cock standing up like a
pole, perhaps it was the shellfish, anyway I climbed aboard it not to waste such
an invitation and orgasmed within minutes. He left me in an
afterglow to snooze for a while.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
