Her First Caning

Abel, he of The Spanking Writers, posted this nice bit about giving “Smudge” her first caning. Excerpt:

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.

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