The Prince and the CanebyBruno1027©
This story is just for fun. I don't feel I portrayed anyone in a bad way and I didn't mean to offend anyone. My intention was to write something different and I hope no one gets offended. That said, enjoy...
The room was spacious, overlooking a still lake that shone in the morning sun, casting rays of light over the green countryside. Kate admired the view and cracked the window open to smell the fresh air of the morning.
She'd been exploring the night before. As William lay asleep, his naked body breathing deep, calm breaths, she'd slipped out of the master bedroom and toured the house on her own. Despite the size, it was cozy and she remembered all the stories he'd told her of summers here growing up. It was his mother's, he explained, and one of her favorite places in the world. It was their solace from the responsibilities of a royal life, cameras and daily life. The country home was a place where they could just be a family, he said.
It was during that late evening when she'd found it. It lay resting in the corner of a back bedroom, harmless and forgotten. She'd reached for it tentatively, wondering of its past, what stories it could tell and all it had seen. It was a piece of history. She held it against her body and felt its stiff texture across her naked breast. She remembered gasping and pulling away, as if it were meant for her. Surely it had brought about many a tear from those it addressed.
It hadn't left her hand since. She kept it in her soft palms, stroking it like a lover, feeling the delicate strength in the thin elastic reed. When she returned to the bed, it rested beside her pillow. He was deep asleep and she clutched herself to his body, never forgetting the thin piece of wood that lay just beside.
She dreamed happily, imagining herself as queen, making love to the king on a grand bed and an overstuffed mattress. Servants and handmaidens attended to her every need, curtseying and bowing. Every night she'd please the king, taking him into her mouth, between her legs and satisfying him as was her duty.
She turned from the window, feeling the warm sun on her bare back and looked at him. He was deep in slumber, his fair hair mussed from the evening of lovemaking the night before. As usual he was magnificent. Hard, demanding thrusts that belied his true nature beneath the soft spoken demeanor. He was insatiable, pleasing her in every way a man could before taking his satisfaction from between her parted thighs. As he flowed into her she was struck speechless. Such a brilliant man, handsome, charming and loving- the perfect specimen for the man who would be king. She will be his Lady.
She rested on the corner of the bed, inches away from his bare body. His member, which hours before raged inside her, filling her body to the utmost, lay dormant on his opened thigh. His chest, covered in lean, toned muscle, rose and fell slowly. She sat beside him, her naked bottom warming the silk sheets. As if sensing her presence, he awoke, blinking slowly. She greeted him with a kiss. Their tongues didn't touch, they merely savored the affection of each other's lips.
"Good morning William," she breathed happily.
He smiled rakishly and stroked the small of her back just above the swell of her buttocks. How she adored his touch! Her entire body flared. Noticing the instrument in her hand, he sat up slightly and reached for it. His face changed and she noticed his playful grin had disappeared to be replaced by a show of concern.
"What is it?" She asked. Curiosity overwhelmed her. Obviously the Prince had a past with it. How well acquainted was he with the thin piece of rattan?
"It's my mother's cane," he said softly, lost in thought. She didn't press, only waited for him to continue. "I haven't seen it in years. Where did you find it?"
When she told him it was in the next room he responded, "That was my governess' room." She nodded, understanding. There was no need for him to explain. He ran it through his fingers and struck it softly against his palm. It left a bright red line across his fair skin and she knew, when used as it always was against all British schoolboys, it would sting much worse.
She climbed to him and rested against his body, watching as he examined the implement that held such childhood memories for him. His hands held it tentatively, as if it were a snake that would rise up from his hand and bite him. He spoke quietly, sounding as if he were talking to himself.
"I could live without seeing this ever again. I hated this thing." She said nothing, only petted the top of his head, reminding him of her presence. "She wasn't lenient with it. Both Harry and I got a good striping whenever we acted up. She made sure of that."
"All boys do. It's nothing to be ashamed of." She offered.
"Especially those of royal standing. More is expected of you."
The room was still and they rested against each other quietly. "Mother too..."
"She wasn't shy about the cane either. All boys need a good caning from their mother, she thought." His hands slid over the wood lovingly. "Often we'd be on tv, acting politely, trailing behind her at dinners, photo events. If you could have pulled our shortpants down you'd see the reason why. Our behinds were covered in red stripes from a sound caning."
"Oh, William," she gasped, pressing herself against him. They clutched each other and she found herself reaching to his bum, feeling the warm muscles and imagining his own mother, the Princess of Wales, caning him bare like any errant boy. He winced at her touch, remembering the times he had received it from his mother.
"Stand up William." With her pulling his wrist he stood by the bedside. His cock had begun to swell at the site of her naked body. She took the cane and, brushed it over her bare breasts, ink nipples stiffening at the sensation. His deep blue eyes looked at her skeptically. "Perhaps we can instill some pleasant memories in place of the old ones."
She reached to place a hand on his bare flank and urged him to turn but he did not. Her hand pressed a little harder but he remained solid. "Surely you don't mean to..."
The sentence hung in the air. She waited, motionless, for him to finish, for him to put into words what she could not say. "My dear," he continued. "This is not a child before you but a man. A strong, intelligent, traveled man. I'll not be caned anymore."
She froze and, when he reached to her, he opened her fingers and gently took the cane from her grasp. As he came to her, she hoped he would take her in his arms and make love once more. But he did not, instead his hand wrapped around her elbow. He was firm but not overly so. When he guided her over the bedspread there was no force. She went willingly, although a bit confused.
"Please William, you mustn't"
She had a beautiful bottom, full, round and sculpted from her exercise routine. Many nights he'd held it, finding comfort in her soft, womanly figure. It pleased him when they made love and was one of the first things he noticed about her when they were first introduced.
Now it trembled slightly. The pristine white of her naked bottom shook and William placed his hand warmly at the top of her crease. "Kate," he spoke, his hand stroking her gently. "You are an amazing woman. One day you may be queen but you must learn what it means to be humbled. You can't understand the people unless you feel their pain, feel what it means to experience the shaming of a proper caning."
She didn't say a word but felt as if she would burst into tears any moment. She had faith in William, he'd always proven himself to her and she trusted his judgement, but a caning? Never before had she had to experience such a thing. It frightened her more than she would admit.
William's hand caressed the warm flesh of her buttocks. No doubt she'd never been caned before. Having been raised as she was, he would be surprised if she was ever given more than a stern warning. She was a good woman, and more than likely never needed such a punishment as a well behaved girl. This was nothing more than play between lovers. Still, it would do her well to remember who was in charge.
"Ready, my love?" She managed a small peep and sighed as his hand left her bare skin.
Will raised the cane and brought it down halfheartedly across her rear. Nevertheless, the bolt of pain caused her to cry out and she rose up. He did not move but held his hand on her bare shoulder and waited for her to calm. A slight pink stripe colored her otherwise pristine bottom. Her instinct was to cry out, to complain, but she knew she couldn't. All she wanted was for him to be proud of her. If that took dozens of stripes she would take them proudly.
Without a word from him, she placed her palms against the bedspread and steeled herself. He stepped back, measuring the distance and admired the sight of his beautiful girlfriend presenting her bare rear to him. His cock swelled proudly. In some way it was a test. He already loved her and knew what she was capable of but proving it, just one more time, would please him greatly.
The rattan whistled through the air and struck the full flesh of her backside. Rather than cry out and embarrass herself, she bit her lower lip. Unable to stop them, tears flowed down her flush cheeks.
William noticed her crying and eased his strokes. He lay three more across her full backside.
"Please, William!" She cried out, hands anxiously rubbing her backside. She was too embarrassed to admit how much it hurt. The round cheeks of her bum were lined with thin pink stripes. It raced through her body, causing her to tremble and cry. "No more, please. It stings like the blazes," she sobbed openly now.
He knew the point had been made and didn't have it in him to inflict more distress to the woman he loved. He turned her body, now weeping and shaking, so she faced him. His arms wrapped around her and he she sighed deeply. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she hoped he didn't notice.
"It's ok, my sweet," he said, lowering his lips to her face and softly kissing away her tears. It made her swoon. She gave in and held him close. They swayed slowly, two lovers holding to one another. He felt the thin layer of fur between her legs and his cock hardened pressing against the folds of her sex.
She was wet and moaned softly as his hardness responded to her body.
"Did I take it well?" Her eyes looked up at him, pleading. "How was I?"
His lips pressed against her, a warm, wet touch that she succumbed to easily. "You were magnificent. I'm very proud of you." His thumb circled her nipple and she breathed heavily, pulling him into her. She grinded against him, forgetting the burn of the cane and followed his lead as he pushed her onto the bed.
She was ready for him, wet and dripping. Looking into her eyes and the tears just now starting to dry on her cheeks, he slowly slid his sceptre into her. Her body rolled, twisting on the mattress as the feeling overwhelmed her once more. This man, one who knew well the pain of the schoolboy's cane, pleased her like no other. Once more she quaked, this time from her coming orgasm, as the Prince replaced the glowing pain with a rending orgasm that awakened the attendants downstairs.