Six of the best with the cane. It’s the standard punishment, the old cliché. Only, it’s not quite so ‘standard’ when you’re plucking up the courage to face it for the first time.
See, for a kinky girl, it’s easier in a way than for the schoolgirl in the story. The story-girl can’t walk away: when the headmaster tells her to bend over, then bend over she must. Whereas the kinky girl’s choosing to be there: she can always back out, say no, decide that she doesn’t want to be caned today thank you very much. She has the power, the right of escape.
But, see, for a kinky girl, that makes it even harder than for the story-girls. For she can escape. She doesn’t need to bend over, to be obedient, to take the ‘punishment’. So there’s a huge line to cross – to take that giant leap from imagining a caning, to experiencing it for real. It’s a leap that takes immense courage and bravery.
Since Smudge started commenting on the blog earlier in the year, and we started swapping notes, she’d always confessed to a sheer terror of the cane. She’d stayed with us a few weeks ago, and been spanked for the first time – her heart pounding as she stretched over my lap. She was so sweet, so brave. But the rattan? It had taken her until the third morning before she could even face looking at a cane, never mind taking a succession of light whacks and that one harder stroke. Only, it wasn’t that hard, really. Just a taster. For what was to come.
This time was different. I held the Malaysian cane in my hand: thin, long, flexible, whippy. She looked at me, looked at it; I could see her weighing the implications of what she was about to do. And then she stepped forward.
She bent over with her hands on the desk, did our sweet heroine; I made her bend lower, straighten her legs, present her backside properly. Smudge’s six were going to be done right. She looked back at me in the mirror that ran the length of the desk. (Was it too cruel to make a girl watch her first caning, to be a spectator at the event?). I measured out the cane – and started her journey.
The first two strokes across her jeans were delivered just hard enough to connect, to bite, to make her look surprised. But the third was hard: properly hard. She hadn’t expected it; in the mirror, I watched her reaction – shock, pain, the wavering-bravery moment. The even-braver moment when she stayed in position for the next. And the fifth, and the final sixth: the should-have-been-the-hardest but I didn’t have the heart to make it so after that third cut.
And then Smudge could stand, and be hugged. A girl who had been caned. Fiction, imagination replaced by reality. And I was honoured to have been the one to have been trusted to take her across the divide.
But, I know… it’s not me you want to hear from. You’re far more interested in Smudge’s description of what happened. And that’s coming tomorrow…
Aww…! You go, Smudge!
Looking forward to that, Smudge. By the way, where do you get a Malaysian cane? Is it somewhat like the ones used for canings in Singapore?
Tina – I wouldn’t be so cruel as to use a Singapore cane on a girl getting her first caning! No, it was one of the canes we bought on our trip to Kuala Lumpur at the end of last year:
http://www.spankingwriters.com/blog/2007/12/20/guess-what-we-bought/
Hhmm, Smudge, if you were a little more on the geriatric side, you could have claimed you couldn’t bend over that far…
Seriously, I agree with Kate– and I’m definitely looking forward to hearing your side of the story, too!
Nice job Smudge!
Aww, wow, your first caning – you brave girl!
I’d like to say they get easier over time… but that would be a lie 😉
Well done Smudge! Big hugs, can’t wait to meet you xxx
Way to go Smudge – and you managed to stay down as well – I’m seriously impressed! Looking forward to reading your account of what the scary man did to you 😉
Indeed, congratulations to Smudge. And how very nice of Abel to let her keep her jeans on.
Aww, thanks guys. LOL Eliane, he kidnapped me, and beat me, and locked me up in his hotel room. Oh, and wouldn’t let me watch my very favouritest Olympic athletes on TV, when I really, *really* wanted to 😉
“Oh, and wouldn’t let me watch my very favouritest Olympic athletes on TV, when I really, *really* wanted to”
OK, I’m in shock, is there no level of callous evilness that the man will not plunge to?! A caning is one thing. Preventing someone from watching the Olympics is another altogether.
Awww well done Smudge
Though am shocked at not being allowed to watch the Olympics…I would have started a riot!
How very brave (and perhaps a bit lucky)! I have to admit that while I’ve on plenty occasions made acquaintance with a cane it has never been for a traditional “six of the best.” Reading this blog has made me both incredibly curious and quite nervous at the thought.
Well done Smudge, first of many canings I’m sure… are you?
You are a clever girl finding Abel to give you your first caning, I can’t think of a nice person for the job
Umm, Sarah? Did you mean ‘nicer’? I think that’s the best Freudian typos I’ve ever seen!
Indiana – thank you for pointing that out. I think Sarah needs to learn a lesson in proofreading before very long…
I noticed my mistake but was far too busy laughing my head off to add a correction!
Also Abel, I’ve had more “lessons” in proof reading than you’ve probably had hot dinners… and they obviously didn’t work so it must be time to give up and declare me a hopeless case mustn’t it?
OMG it’s worse than I thought… noticing the error and leaving it uncorrected… shocking!
There are times when I manage to remain uncorrected 😉
Well, I’ll correct mine, as it isn’t as interesting as Sarah’s– should be one of the best Freudian typos, or the best Freudian typo, as you will.
For the record, I prefer Sarah’s original comment to any corrected version.
Sarah – I’ve tried that reasoning numerous times before and I’m always told that it just means he has to work harder to get the lesson across, not that he should admit defeat as I propose.
If you are ever successful in arguing that point please do share your winning logic so that we can all benefit from it!
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