I knew it was coming. Of course I did. I had been absent without permission and, perhaps worse, rude to the lady of the house.
I showered and shaved and slipped into a black cashmere sweater and a pair of linen trousers. Hannah likes me to be sweet when I am to be punished. She came home and the maid helped her with her coat and her groceries. A glass of white wine, a brief chat with me and then she went upstairs. Fifteen minutes later I could hear the maid’s buzzer. They spent some time together in the dressing room and then Tanyia came down the stairs. “Madame wants to see you, sir.”
She lead the way. I followed. Before we came to the bedroom she turned into another room. Hannah was sparing me the humiliation of the maid actually watching me be whipped. But the maid certainly knew I was to be beaten as she had lain the cane on the bed.
I stood before Hannah who was beautifully dressed and made up. I will not bore you with the details of her scolding. Suffice to say she made her points precisely. “Now, strip and take your position.”
I did and felt the belt tighten over my wrists and ankles. “Oh, she has put out the wrong cane.” I knelt, bottom up, as Hannah found the right cane. The heavier rattan, pre-soaked while I had my shower. I received another well measured piece of her mind and, when she was certain I knew precisely what I was to be punished for, Hannah began. A brief, full on, hand spanking warmed my bottom.
Now it was time to feel the bite of the cane. It took Hannah two strokes to find her range and weight. There was a swish as she brought the cane home, with authority, for the third time. This was a hard caning. Each stroke a bit harder than the last, the swish a little higher pitched and longer, until the last four or five which were much harder. Had Hannah continued, and she could well have, I would have been in tears in a matter of another half dozen. As it was my eyes were watering and my relief indescribable when, at last, fourteen or fifteen strokes in, Hannah was satisfied I’d learnt my lesson.
“There, we’re done.” she said as she unbound my wrists.
“Thank you darling” I managed. Hannah left for cocktails. I lay panting slightly. Eventually I got off the bed. In the mirror I could see the stripes, one of which had, at the tip, raised a welt. As I type I know that the rest of my bottom is bruised. I will remember the lesson.
A lesson given with such love and firmness. I am a very lucky man indeed.