It was a Thursday. Our day for maintenance punishment so I was sent to fetch the cane.
Mistress fastened me to the bench and started caning me with the thin Dragon – full force with the thin Dragon, as our normal rules.
I’d not been caned in weeks and this hurt so much. I’d only had six, I was moaning and saying I couldn’t take it. I said I felt sick, which I did.
Then Mistress laid into me with six more, rapid fire and really hard. Then tossed the cane aside, bent down to unfasten me from the bench and told me to pack everything away. “I’m not putting up with this fuss,” she said. “You asked for weekly punishment. You said all along you felt there was a need for severity. I agree. But, I’m not putting up with this fuss any more. If you’re going to whine like that you can go without. Go on, pack it all away.”
How could I be so stupid? We both knew punishment was overdue. And even if it wasn’t, it was a Thursday so I was due was maintenance punishment .
I left it a while and then went back into the lounge and apologised to Mistress for my pathetic behaviour.
I felt very down. With myself for being such a wimp. But more for letting Mistress down.
That night in bed she knew I wasn’t feeling good about myself. “It’s no good you being grumpy. You brought this on yourself. You know you needed a dose of the cane to bring you back in line but you blew it. No one else. I’m fed up with your moaning.
“I don’t want any talking from you during punishment sessions – do you understand? You told me that years ago when you used to have appointments with professional disciplinarians, you never moaned and took your punishment well. So why has your behaviour slipped?”
I explained that in all my previous experience, I was caned with thicker canes and with longer breaks between strokes. Mistress uses the thin Dragon which has a biting sting and barely leaves any time between strokes.
“If that’s the case I’ll use the thicker canes and give you longer between strokes.”
I told Mistress that was her prerogative but that I felt our punishment sessions, although severe were exactly what were needed and it was me who should change – not the severity of the punishment.
“If that’s the case, then I think we need to gag you in future,” she stated. “I want you to get one for next Thursday’s punishment because I don’t want to hear your incessant moans. Is that understood?”
I meekly responded with a “yes Mistress”, and snuggled close. Her authority made me melt. I hugger her tight.
“It’s no good you thinking that’s going to make any difference. You can get back on your side of the bed.”
It’s now Friday evening and there’s been an uneasy atmosphere in the house because I expected Mistress would complete Thursday punishment at any time.
However nothing happened so I asked if I could go to the computer room while Mistress watched TV. I was granted permission but typing this up was interrupted by Mistress coming into the room to find out what I was doing. She told me to bend over the chair and pulled my plastic pants down and tucked my mackintosh into my belt.
“I didn’t say you could get changed. And you’ve been up here far too long.”
I got a couple of dozen whacks with the airbrush then I’ve no idea how many with the light leather tawse. Again, I didn’t take them well.
I’d taken the tawse, kneeling on all fours and was still there, looking up at Mistress.
“It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday. We’re going to see my Mother in the afternoon and when we get back home in the evening, I’m going to make sure you get the punishment you should have had Thursday.
I feel that I may suffer on Sunday. But we won't have the new gag by then. The thing worrying me is not the severity of punishment I'm facing, but whether I can suffer in silence this time?