Hannah was right, it had been too long. Holidays, good behaviour, the lasting effects of a daily ten minutes pressing her panties into my corner and thinking of her. Perhaps the little black chastity cage where my cock has been since New Years Eve reminds me to be on my best behaviour. But I had not been whipped for weeks.
There was no nonsense with Hannah. I took my position and I heard the cane slice through the air. The first six strokes were fairly light as Hannah found her range. The next six were firmer and the cane began to bite.
“Lovely. All nice and red. But now dear it is time for you to have some real stripes. Six should be sufficient today.”
With that Hannah drew her cane back and put some real force into the next stroke. She has whipped me harder but not much. Three more strokes lined my bottom and I knew what was coming. After the straight strokes are the crosses where Hannah brings her cane down at 45 degrees and each place it crosses an earlier stroke is blistered. I braced for the first cross stroke and vocalized as it came. Two more each an inch away from the last and Hannah was done.
“Now, you can go to your corner and think about how much you want to avoid a punishment caning this year. And no rubbing.”
Hannah peeled off her moist panties and pointed me to my corner, bottom blazing.
“I’ll call you when you’re done.” she said leaving me in my corner.
Loved, cherished and slightly bruised.