SundaeGirl
Posts: 7
Joined: 2/11/2014
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I’m laid naked on the bed, my gaze following him as he moves around the room, trying to second guess what he might be doing but I’m on the back foot, uncertain and unsure but excitement bubbles away underneath the surface, my heart beating slightly faster.
The cuffs land on the bed next to me and I look at them wondering whether they are part of what is coming next or whether he is just moving them, my mind trying to figure out why they are there when I realise he has already spoken once and he commands me a second time to put them on, his voice matter of fact, there is no question that I will do it and I pick the cuffs up.
I fasten the leather cuffs around my ankles, enjoying the softness against my skin as I pull them tighter, my fingers trembling slightly. The wrist cuffs pose more of a struggle against the trembling, I manage to fasten one but cannot do the other and i have to ask him to fasten the cuff around my wrist.
I feel vulnerable and exposed, naked, cuffed and expectant when suddenly the next instruction comes, and with it comes the vague idea of what might be expected of me this afternoon.
I feel my heart pick up the pace a little; surely not? He mentioned it casually in conversation that we would try this one day, but surely not today? I’m not ready for this; I struggle to imagine how I will cope, fearful that it will be too much. I look at him but his face is expressionless, I cannot read what is there, have no real way of knowing whether I’m right or wrong in my assumption.
But I find myself moving onto my knees, knowing there was never any doubt that I would.
Laying my face against the mattress, my eyes closed, I slide my hands between my open thighs, my shoulders pressing against the bed, my ass in the air and im conscious of the fact that my cunt has become wetter at the thought of what he has planned. I lay there waiting with fearful anticipation when I suddenly feel him passing rope through the cuffs and securing my hands and feet so that I cannot move. I am completely at his mercy, vulnerable and unable to move my limbs even the smallest amount.
I feel him press the wand against my cunt, nestled against my clit and he instructs me to use my hands to keep it in place. I grasp blindly to secure it there when suddenly the vibrations kick in, pulsing against my tender, sensitive flesh and I find myself trying to move it awkwardly with my restrained hands to ensure its in exactly the right place, sending out vibrations directly against my clit, making my breathing become slightly faster.
Then I hear it, and the fear fights to come to the surface, trying to beat off the pleasure of the wand. The cane swishes in the air, I cannot hear anything else, just the swoosh and the knowledge of just how much this hurts. Suddenly I feel its length across my ass, beating out a steady rhythm, not too hard, but not too soft. Again and again, over and over, getting steadily heavier against me as the sensations build and swell against my clit.
I cannot find the place between the pleasure of the wand and the sting of the cane, my mind is struggling to make sense of it but I feel my orgasm building, and somehow, without even being aware of doing so, I manage to ask for permission to come, and am somehow able to hold back as he counts down from 10, until he instructs me to cum, conscious even in my aroused state this is what i must do, i cannot cum unless he has said i can.
I cry out, every muscle tense as the orgasm rips through me. The wand sitting at exactly the right spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body and I’m suddenly aware that the pleasure and pain has merged, that one doesn’t exist in this moment without the other, as my second orgasm hits; the wand relentless against my cunt as I feel myself shaking with the effort of my orgasm.
Suddenly I feel the wand being moved away and I hear the words uttered from my own throat, begging him not to stop, not to move the wand, not to stop the caning, to keep on, to make me cum again, my body and mind lost in delicious spiralling sensation that is too much, yet not enough.
I cum again, trapped in this position, exposed, sore, wet, gasping for breath.
Finally it comes to an end, the sensations in my cunt dwindling, allowing me to focus on the steady throbbing from the purple and red welts across my ass. As the ropes are untied I remain in position, my fingers holding on tightly to the rope that held me there, not willing to let go, not wanting to lose this moment, needing to hold onto something, to keep me here in this place where there are no words, just feeling and sensation and pleasure and pain, so beautifully mingled together.
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A true account of caning - 
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