Watching my girl’s caning
Posted by Abel on 17 Aug 2007 at 09:45 am | Tagged as: Real-Life Spanking
Haron took a pretty hard thrashing from a friend recently.
Actually, strike that. Haron took quite the hardest caning I’ve ever seen her get. Stripped, tied in position, an improbable number of strokes laid on in rapid succession at full strength from a hard, experienced, unforgiving player
Whilst I stood silently to the side, and watched.
Interest experience, that, observing one’s beloved taking such a severe, relentless whacking. The flogging had been long-anticipated: her sentence pronounced by email, the date fixed, the event anticipated with dread curiosity.
My natural instincts, of course, were to rush to protect my girl - especially once she started to struggle. To really struggle.
Yet I didn’t. I just watched. Saw her writhe, heard her cry out. Observed as he took her into a deep, dark, beaten place.
And then - soon, yet an eternity after starting - he finished: the binds came off, and I could comfort her. Tell her how beautiful she’d looked, how brave she’d been. Held her especially tight. Re-assured; soothed; admired her stripes. And before very long she was bouncing around as usual, a quite spectacular set of marks and a wincing reluctance to sit down the only visible evidence of her recent ordeal.
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“And then - soon, yet an eternity after starting - he finished: the binds came off, and I could comfort her.”
This bit made me catch me breath. Only once did my husband and I briefly discuss the idea of someone else punishing me, and it was after a thrashing and the same day that I’d read another of your posts about a mislaid stroke, too high on Haron’s backside. The idea, at first, made me a bit queasy, despite his surprising lack of discomfort. I mean, I am his. But the thought of being freshly unbound, still gasping a bit, heaving for breath, tears in my eyes, being comforted not by the man who beat me but by the man I love is sexy. Knight in shining armor sexy. That is, a sadistic, slow-to-act, sexy knight in shining armor.
A gorgeous and all too vivid post. (And a fun typo note: while I was proof-reading my comment, I saw I had written “the mean who beat me” and “my the man I love.” That about sums up my real thoughts on that, I suppose!)
Is it wrong to be jealous of Haron here? Great post, thanks Abel.
Wonderful post, I think it must be incredibly hard to watch, and even harder to be the one doing the thrashing of someone you love, I’d much rather be on the receiving end.
Having watched a video of myself being birched I felt incredibly sorry for the poor sobbing me I saw on the screen, I just wanted to protect her and give her a big hug, but my wonderful birch weilding man held strong and carried on birching, despite feeling exactly the way I did, wanting to comfort me and hold me and kiss my tears away, but knowing he mustn’t, not until the time was right and the punishment duly over.
I admire him so much for that, as I admire Abel for holding back and waiting for his turn to comfort and of course I admire Haron too for taking what sounds like the most amazing caning