Real Stories - May 2005

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I introduced the idea by bringing home a smooth canelike 36-inch 3/8 inch diameter carpenters dowel and suggested that, since men sometimes act like children, they sometimes need some old-fashioned schoolboy discipline. It worked. Her curiosity overcame reticence, and she soon had me nude, on all fours atop the bed. I encouraged her to be aggressive, and disregard any reaction on my part, but insisted on a safe word安全词 — a word that means stop until we were both comfortable with each other (she chose 1200, her score on the SAT which was annoyingly above mine of 1160). Though somewhat tame at first, by about the 10th stroke she had worked up enough passion and sexual energy to affirmatively use the cane. I was unsure how much I could really take, or whether she knew to stop before any genuine damage was done, so I used the safe word安全词 — a word that means stop at about the 25th stroke, by which time I was trembling uncontrollably and crying hysterically. I hugged her and thanked her, and after a few minutes went to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My bottom was covered with thick red welts and two very prominent bruises. Anna admitted that she did not understand my desire to be caned, but began to feel the power of the cane as it swooshed though the air, and liked it. She also admitted that, while the sight of me in tears was initially distressing, she did enjoy the feeling of power that reducing me to tears gave her.