cane

Call to Order

dominant wife, whipped husband

Take your postion darling

“Well darling, you certainly have forgotten your place.” Hannah spoke as she sat on the side of our bed. “Imagine going out last night without asking permission. And I have the receipt. $15.00 and, I’m sure, a generous tip. Call it twenty.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I won’t have it. So, today I am going to whip you. One stroke for each dollar. But, if it happens again it will be two strokes. Now, get in position.”

I went to the end of the bed and stepped out of my sleeping panties. Hannah warmed me up with her hand. “I won’t have you wasting our money on the pub and I certainly expect to be asked for permission if you want to go and have a beer.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. You are not going to forget this.”

I heard the hiss of the cane through the air. Hannah was in earnest. After five strokes I was arching my back and after ten vocalizing as the cane sliced. I was shaking as the last three, very hard, punishment strokes were delivered.

“Perfect. I think a few of those welts will be with you for a couple of days. Now get dressed and get to work.” Hannah noticed that my cock was stiffening.

“Oh what a silly man. If you think that little cock is getting any attention you have another think coming. In fact, I might just send you to your corner before cocktails tonight and give you another whipping for cheekiness.”

I am well loved indeed.

Even

I have been entirely chaste, not even milked, for nearly two weeks. This is typical of the low end of Hannah’s, and therefore my, cycle. For a few days she has no interest at all in sex or teasing or my discipline. And, for a man in my position, that is simply the way it is. There is only one sexuality which matters in our house: Hannah’s and I have agreed to abide by that fact. But it is terribly frustrating and deliciously impossible to change.

However, last night, Hannah began to stir. She hinted at a blow job but fell asleep long before that was a possibility. I fell asleep erect and longing. “I’ll give you a spanking in the morning darling,” Hannah said as she drifted off. Which, of course, made me all the harder.

Hannah arrived in our bedroom as I was making our bed. We chatted for a little while and then she said, “So show me this new position.” I hastened to comply. Now that Hannah is enjoying swinging her cane with a degree of authority, it matters a great deal to me that each side of my bottom is evenly whipped. The last couple of whippings have, shall we say, favoured the right buttock which is the natural consequence of Hannah standing to my left. She can only bring the cane down by swinging forehand. The “new” position puts me on my knees at the bottom corner of the bed and at a 45 degree angle. Hannah saw the advantages of this new arrangement immediately.

“So all I have to do,” she said fastening my wrists to my ankles securely with my soft black leather belt, “is switch sides and use my backhand. Well, let’s see if that can work.” dominant wife

As Hannah spoke she was warming me up with a steady, hard, hand spanking. As Mrs. Spencer quite rightly points out, for a man even the hardest hand spanking delivered by a woman barely registers. A fact not lost on Hannah as she picked up her cane. She began forehand on my left and, as expected, my right cheek was soon warming and then hot. Hannah’s strokes were not particularly hard. This was a pure maintenance whipping and there is plenty of time for welts later in the month. A dozen and a half strokes in and Hannah was satisfied. She switched sides.

A revelation! Until now my right side has always taken the brunt of my whippings, maintenance or punishment. Now Hannah was able to even the punishment. The sweet sensation of her cane biting into my flesh, not terribly hard but constantly, was matched by the heat rising from my well lined right buttock. Hannah’s backhand whipping technique took a few strokes to come in. She was gauging the force of her strokes and it was only after half a dozen that she settled on what pleased her. All too soon, but not soon enough, it was over. Or was it? Hannah made no move to unbuckle my belt. I was in position.

She said nothing but stroked my bottom quite firmly as if assessing her work. Unsatisfied she stood back and delivered three harder forehand strokes and then, switching sides, three stiff backhand slashes. I winced at each of them but the short respite had given me time to collect myself and I did not vocalize or cry. In fact, now that my punishment was evened out, I could easily have taken another dozen hard strokes a side. Which is a great gift. Only then did Hannah release my wrists.

I managed to say “Thank you darling” before she got on with her day and I with mine. It is going to be an interesting few weeks.