A Caning Story
She lingers in the hallway in front of his office door waiting for him to finish what he is doing. He looks up and nods slightly, acknowledging her presence.
She shifts her backpack on her shoulders and leans against the door jam, watching him. There is something about him. She looks at him intently. He is good looking, that's for sure, but that isnt it. He has something......a quality.... that makes her swoon whenever she sees him. She cocks her head to one side and absently twirls a lock of her hair as she thinks. What is it? Authority. That is the first word that comes to mind. Authority? No. That isnt quite it.
Her eyes follow him as he moves around the office, straightening things, moving stacks ofungraded assignments, checking his voicemail. Dominance. That is it. The word gets caught in her throat and she blinks. Dominance. There are times when he literally radiates dominance. And it makes her swoon.
His voice breaks her train of thought and her eyes dart back to his face as he speaks. "We have some things to talk about don't we? Why don't you come in and shut the door?" She numbly follows his instructions, her body moving almost automatically. "That's right, shut the door and lock it. Put your pack over there. No, over there. Pull that chair intothe center of the room and sit down. Yes, right there and after we have taken care of business, we can go to lunch."
Before she knows it, the office door is locked and she is sitting in front of him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "How long have you been struggling?" His question makes her cringe and she looks at the floor. She knows she is in trouble with him, and she also knows that she is going to be punished. She should have asked him for help weeks ago. But she didnt.
His words from the beginning of the semester ring clearly in her ears: Do your best. No matter what, I expect you to do your best. And ask for help if you dont understand something. Disciplined students know when to ask for help, got it? Well, I guess I didnt get it, did I? Sighing softly to herself, she says meekly, "For a while. A couple of weeks I think."
"A couple of weeks? So you are telling me you have been struggling and chose to plow ahead on your own anyway, thus causing you to fall further behind. Didnt you think it would catch up with you?" He asks as he stands up and moves to the bookcase next to his desk. Pushing several stacks of books aside, he retrieves the cane. Her eyes get wide when she sees the thin, whippy, crooked handled piece of rattan. "Um, I didnt think I needed help. I thought I could figure it out on my own." Her words come out softly, haltingly, and her eyes remain locked on the cane in his hand.
"That is not good academic practice, and you know it. Your failure to ask for help eithershows false confidence, or shyness or procrastination. All of those are poor reasons. And I think we talked about you asking for help when you need it, didn't we?" She nods numbly again and whispers, "Yes Sir."
He moves toward her slowly until his form is towering over her, and she feels like she is going to suffocate, the cane in his left hand. He considers her for a moment before gripping her upper arm and pulling her to her feet, startling her. "Well, there really is only one thing to do about it." He says as he turns the chair around, and then grabbing her arm again, he positions her body in front of the chair and pushes her forward, bending her over the back of the chair.
"Put your palms on the arms of the chair and do NOT move. I am going to cane your bottomfor not asking for help and for having to punish you again for something that we have already discussed. You will learn, Young Lady."
She blanches at his words and her ears begin to ring as she allows herself to be placed over the back of the chair, her bottom properly positioned for the cane. She has no choice but to obey. She flinches when she feels his hands reach for the button of her jeans and she struggles to stay still as he lowers them to her knees and then pulls her panties down soon after. Her face grows hot and she lets her head fall forward to hide her blushing.
She jumps when he places the cane against her bare bottom.
*tap* *tap* *tap*
"We have talked about this before havent we? About coming to me if you needed help. About doing your best. Haven't we?"
*tap* *tap* *tap*
She can barely think as he taps the tip of the cane against her bare buttocks. She shifts from foot to foot as he taps relentlessly.
CRACK!
The first stroke catches her off guard and she bites her lip as the cane comes down hard on both cheeks.
"Well, haven't we?"
*tap* *tap* *tap*
She nods, her stomach churning, her body tensing for the next stroke, and the remnants of the first still burning hot on her skin. "Yes Sir" She croaks as he raises the cane again.
CRACK!
The next stroke falls just below the first and she hisses between clenched teeth, as another line of intense fire begins its slow burn on her bare cheeks. Her cheeks flush a deep scarlett and she tries to exhale deeply, the but the air in her lungs only comes out in small ragged huffs.
"Yes, well we both know how much I dislike having to repeat one of my lessons."
CRACK!
The third stroke comes immediately after the last one, landing just above the other two. Her knees buckle and she leans heavily against the front of the chair as the pain fills her head. Her hands slips off the chair arm while she tries to catch her breath.
"I told you not to move!"
His voice is loud. Sharp. Like a cane. She straightens her legs and pushes her bottom back out, her body trembling. He brings the cane down hard, and then quickly brings it down again, leaving two more white lined imprints on her already stinging bottom.
She tenses, gasping loudly, her eyes filling with tears as she wills her body to stay inposition. Her tongue thick in her mouth and her body shakes.
He leans over her, his lips close to her ear, his voice soft and almost menacing. "If I have to tell you not to move again, I will make you a very sorry little girl. Do you understand me?" "Y,Y,Y,Y,Yes Sirrrr." The words tumble out and she her head bobs up and down frantically to emphasize her understanding.
She looks at him teary eyed, silently pleading. His face softens for a brief instant before returning to the familiar masked expressionhe wears when he is punishing her. He examines her bottom for a moment, his fingertipstracing the marks left by the cane.
"That was five. You have ten more coming. Are you ready?" His voice is still stern but also reassuring and she gathers strength from it before continuing. Her knuckles are white from her tight grip on the arms of the chair. She takes a deep breath and her voicecracks as she answers. "I am ready."
He brings the cane down over and over again, leaving more thin lines of burning fire on her naughty bottom. She leans over the chair gasping for air, writhing as the cane makes contact with her bruised and tender flesh. She closes her eyes and begins to cry silently as the pain overwhelms her. The skin on her bare bottom becomes alive with prickly heat that dances over the stinging lines and she when she begins to think it will never end, God
please let it end!........ it does.
"What did you learn today, Young Lady?"
She hears his voice from far away and she struggles to focus. He chest rises and falls unevenly and her body is limp over the back of the chair. She speaks slowly, thoughtfully, at first. "To not wait until it is too late if I have fallen behind. To come to you if I am having a problem. To not. To not have. Not have you repeat your lessons." Her words convey the thoughts of a very sorry girl. Her sentences, are simple and fragmented. "I am sorry. I am really sorry." Her face is filled with emotion and uncertainty and remorse.
"I know" he says softly as he turns toward the bookcase, and it is when she hears those words that she knows it is over and the slate is clean.
She hears him put the cane away on the shelf but she doesnt move. She is accustomed to the ritual of punishment with him and she remains bent over the chair, her jeans and panties pooled around her ankles, a well punished girl, while he attends to other more mundane matters. After some time, the familiar sound of clicking keys on a keyboard stops and he is beside her, telling her that she may get dressed.
He watches her get dressed and smiles slightly at the sight of his naughty girl struggling to pull her clothing up over her sore bottom. She finishes getting dressed and then looks up, aware that he is watching her.
Authority. And Dominance. Authority and Dominance. He is both.
"Well?" He asks finally, placing his hands firmly on his hips. She looks at him and thinks for several moments before responding. "How about falafal?" He smiles and nods as they head out of his office and down the hall. "Good choice. I haven't had falafal in a long time. I'll buy".
She shifts her backpack on her shoulders and leans against the door jam, watching him. There is something about him. She looks at him intently. He is good looking, that's for sure, but that isnt it. He has something......a quality.... that makes her swoon whenever she sees him. She cocks her head to one side and absently twirls a lock of her hair as she thinks. What is it? Authority. That is the first word that comes to mind. Authority? No. That isnt quite it.
Her eyes follow him as he moves around the office, straightening things, moving stacks ofungraded assignments, checking his voicemail. Dominance. That is it. The word gets caught in her throat and she blinks. Dominance. There are times when he literally radiates dominance. And it makes her swoon.
His voice breaks her train of thought and her eyes dart back to his face as he speaks. "We have some things to talk about don't we? Why don't you come in and shut the door?" She numbly follows his instructions, her body moving almost automatically. "That's right, shut the door and lock it. Put your pack over there. No, over there. Pull that chair intothe center of the room and sit down. Yes, right there and after we have taken care of business, we can go to lunch."
Before she knows it, the office door is locked and she is sitting in front of him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "How long have you been struggling?" His question makes her cringe and she looks at the floor. She knows she is in trouble with him, and she also knows that she is going to be punished. She should have asked him for help weeks ago. But she didnt.
His words from the beginning of the semester ring clearly in her ears: Do your best. No matter what, I expect you to do your best. And ask for help if you dont understand something. Disciplined students know when to ask for help, got it? Well, I guess I didnt get it, did I? Sighing softly to herself, she says meekly, "For a while. A couple of weeks I think."
"A couple of weeks? So you are telling me you have been struggling and chose to plow ahead on your own anyway, thus causing you to fall further behind. Didnt you think it would catch up with you?" He asks as he stands up and moves to the bookcase next to his desk. Pushing several stacks of books aside, he retrieves the cane. Her eyes get wide when she sees the thin, whippy, crooked handled piece of rattan. "Um, I didnt think I needed help. I thought I could figure it out on my own." Her words come out softly, haltingly, and her eyes remain locked on the cane in his hand.
"That is not good academic practice, and you know it. Your failure to ask for help eithershows false confidence, or shyness or procrastination. All of those are poor reasons. And I think we talked about you asking for help when you need it, didn't we?" She nods numbly again and whispers, "Yes Sir."
He moves toward her slowly until his form is towering over her, and she feels like she is going to suffocate, the cane in his left hand. He considers her for a moment before gripping her upper arm and pulling her to her feet, startling her. "Well, there really is only one thing to do about it." He says as he turns the chair around, and then grabbing her arm again, he positions her body in front of the chair and pushes her forward, bending her over the back of the chair.
"Put your palms on the arms of the chair and do NOT move. I am going to cane your bottomfor not asking for help and for having to punish you again for something that we have already discussed. You will learn, Young Lady."
She blanches at his words and her ears begin to ring as she allows herself to be placed over the back of the chair, her bottom properly positioned for the cane. She has no choice but to obey. She flinches when she feels his hands reach for the button of her jeans and she struggles to stay still as he lowers them to her knees and then pulls her panties down soon after. Her face grows hot and she lets her head fall forward to hide her blushing.
She jumps when he places the cane against her bare bottom.
*tap* *tap* *tap*
"We have talked about this before havent we? About coming to me if you needed help. About doing your best. Haven't we?"
*tap* *tap* *tap*
She can barely think as he taps the tip of the cane against her bare buttocks. She shifts from foot to foot as he taps relentlessly.
CRACK!
The first stroke catches her off guard and she bites her lip as the cane comes down hard on both cheeks.
"Well, haven't we?"
*tap* *tap* *tap*
She nods, her stomach churning, her body tensing for the next stroke, and the remnants of the first still burning hot on her skin. "Yes Sir" She croaks as he raises the cane again.
CRACK!
The next stroke falls just below the first and she hisses between clenched teeth, as another line of intense fire begins its slow burn on her bare cheeks. Her cheeks flush a deep scarlett and she tries to exhale deeply, the but the air in her lungs only comes out in small ragged huffs.
"Yes, well we both know how much I dislike having to repeat one of my lessons."
CRACK!
The third stroke comes immediately after the last one, landing just above the other two. Her knees buckle and she leans heavily against the front of the chair as the pain fills her head. Her hands slips off the chair arm while she tries to catch her breath.
"I told you not to move!"
His voice is loud. Sharp. Like a cane. She straightens her legs and pushes her bottom back out, her body trembling. He brings the cane down hard, and then quickly brings it down again, leaving two more white lined imprints on her already stinging bottom.
She tenses, gasping loudly, her eyes filling with tears as she wills her body to stay inposition. Her tongue thick in her mouth and her body shakes.
He leans over her, his lips close to her ear, his voice soft and almost menacing. "If I have to tell you not to move again, I will make you a very sorry little girl. Do you understand me?" "Y,Y,Y,Y,Yes Sirrrr." The words tumble out and she her head bobs up and down frantically to emphasize her understanding.
She looks at him teary eyed, silently pleading. His face softens for a brief instant before returning to the familiar masked expressionhe wears when he is punishing her. He examines her bottom for a moment, his fingertipstracing the marks left by the cane.
"That was five. You have ten more coming. Are you ready?" His voice is still stern but also reassuring and she gathers strength from it before continuing. Her knuckles are white from her tight grip on the arms of the chair. She takes a deep breath and her voicecracks as she answers. "I am ready."
He brings the cane down over and over again, leaving more thin lines of burning fire on her naughty bottom. She leans over the chair gasping for air, writhing as the cane makes contact with her bruised and tender flesh. She closes her eyes and begins to cry silently as the pain overwhelms her. The skin on her bare bottom becomes alive with prickly heat that dances over the stinging lines and she when she begins to think it will never end, God
please let it end!........ it does.
"What did you learn today, Young Lady?"
She hears his voice from far away and she struggles to focus. He chest rises and falls unevenly and her body is limp over the back of the chair. She speaks slowly, thoughtfully, at first. "To not wait until it is too late if I have fallen behind. To come to you if I am having a problem. To not. To not have. Not have you repeat your lessons." Her words convey the thoughts of a very sorry girl. Her sentences, are simple and fragmented. "I am sorry. I am really sorry." Her face is filled with emotion and uncertainty and remorse.
"I know" he says softly as he turns toward the bookcase, and it is when she hears those words that she knows it is over and the slate is clean.
She hears him put the cane away on the shelf but she doesnt move. She is accustomed to the ritual of punishment with him and she remains bent over the chair, her jeans and panties pooled around her ankles, a well punished girl, while he attends to other more mundane matters. After some time, the familiar sound of clicking keys on a keyboard stops and he is beside her, telling her that she may get dressed.
He watches her get dressed and smiles slightly at the sight of his naughty girl struggling to pull her clothing up over her sore bottom. She finishes getting dressed and then looks up, aware that he is watching her.
Authority. And Dominance. Authority and Dominance. He is both.
"Well?" He asks finally, placing his hands firmly on his hips. She looks at him and thinks for several moments before responding. "How about falafal?" He smiles and nods as they head out of his office and down the hall. "Good choice. I haven't had falafal in a long time. I'll buy".