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The cane on my wall. A constant
reminder what will happen when I misbehave. My stepmother is a strict one.
As long as I live in her house she'll discipline me like a schoolgirl.
No matter how old I am. And I'm already twenty-one. The older I get the
more severe my punishments become.
After a caning, back in my room, I always look at the stripes in the mirror. My boyfriend likes them too. He thinks my bottom is more cute with welts and stripes. He has no idea about the pain of it. I better get going. Stepmom is waiting. She saw me and my boyfriend making out in my room. I'll get at least a dozen strokes. Maybe more. And all on my bare bottom. Would you like to watch? |
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I hand her the
cane. I ask her to punish me severely for my bad behavior. I have to ask,
that's part of the rules. I pull my panties down. All the way to my knees.
Then I bend over, my hands on the seat of the chair. Stepmom says I'll
have to count the strokes.
Then I get my ass thrashed and blistered. I miscount several times and each time the dozen starts all over from the beginning: "One!" I don't know how to describe the pain in words. It feels like the cane cuts into my bottom. The stripes feel like on fire, and the more stripes the more my bottom burns. After a while my tears are falling steadily on the seat of the chair. Finally I keep correct count and the caning is over. I pull up my panties. I thank her. She hands me the cane. Back to my room. First thing I call my boyfriend on my cell phone. I look at myself in the mirror. I count at least thirty stripes. It hurts so bad! He tells me to touch myself. To use my fingers. Yes, I really am a naughty girl... |
