Morning Caning

husband caned by wife I knew I was going to be punished for painting without permission and using the wrong, smelly, paint. However life has been busy and this morning was the first opportunity the Lady of the House had for my correction.

“I think we’ll use my dressing room…It will be more private.” Hannah’s dressing room is lovely, overlooking our front garden and with paned mirrored doors on either side of an eight foot wide space. In the middle of the space is a bright red leather round low settee. Perfect to sit on while the Lady of the House puts on her stockings.

“Hands on the settee.” I bent over. “Feet closer, I want your bottom up high. Head down and look to your right so you can watch in the mirror.” I hastened to comply and was rewarded with a glorious view of Hannah in her bright red woolen skirt and pretty sweater, cane under her arm as she began to warm me up with her hand.

“Now dear, I am going to be quite severe with you this morning. You know that I will not tolerate disobedience. I bough perfectly good, low volatile, paint and you deliberately did not use it. So I am giving you a dozen hard and then, when you have caught your breath, another half dozen full force.”

“Yes Ma’am. I am sorry.”

“I know you are but this will remind you not to do it again. You do as you are told. If in doubt, ask.” On “ask” I saw Hannah draw the rattan cane back and heard it sing through the air. I saw the cane hit my bottom a second before I felt the searing heat of the stroke. Hannah gave no recovery time. The dozen strokes, all delivered with the same swish and force, hit my bottom as quickly as Hannah could draw back her arm and swing. My botton was a sheet of pain when Hannah spoke again.

“So those were for your disobedience. Stand up. The next six are for your complete lack of judgement. I should not have to make these sorts of decisions. If I buy a particular thing I want it used. You do not contradict me, ever. Now resume your position and spread your legs a little.”

I obeyed and waited, teeth gritted.

For the first time ever Hannah stepped into her strokes. The cane welted my already striped bottom six searing times. More slowly than the first dozen but at least half again as hard. I was kicking my legs up when, at last, Hannah was done.

“There. And how nice to see your little cock is hard even after all that. I think you have learned your lesson but, to be sure, I am tempted to do this again in the next couple of days. We’ll see how your welts look and how well you behave.”

With that the Lady of the House turned and left me. Well whipped, chastened and very, very much in love.

3 comments

    1. Thank you Michael. I shall pass your kind words on to the Lady of the House. I have to say that I prefer her to be severe. It reminds me forcibly of my position and how lucky I am to be the man in it.

  1. Love your writings. I too am lucky to have a wife that whips me on a regular basis.she usually gives me about a hundred strokes and the waiting days drive me mad.she introduced a new twist yesterday and actually made me call her mistress so this thing is continuing to develop.It must be divine being your mistresses man servant as she seems to be really into her role.

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