Caned for Adultery

It was then that she started to spank me again. As her fingers moved her hand cracked down onto my bum flesh and now pain and pleasure were indistinguishable. After a time she stopped, and I lay still.

"And now the paddle," she remarked. "You want to feel the paddle, don't you honey?"

"Yes," I croaked.

"Very well. I want you to stand at the side of the bed with your legs apart and your hands flat on the bed. Do not take your hands off the bed or your feet off the floor. You can watch in the mirror. Six strokes."

I did as I was told. Both in front and behind, two large wall mirrors stretched the length of the bed from floor to ceiling. In the mirror, I could see both Joanna and my own bare arse.

My bum cheeks, which only shortly before were a pale milky white, were now a bright tomato red,, Behind me, Joanna was standing, about to inflict further damage and pain. She stood with her legs apart holding the paddle in both hands and above her shoulder, as a baseball hitter might hold his bat.

For the first time, I was able to observe her voluptuous body. She was a big woman with well-muscled arms and wide haunches with thick thighs. Her huge pendulous tits hung down in front of her. In the mirror, I could see the reflection of her fat flabby arse. I barely had time to register this, her thigh gap, and her hairless minge, when I saw her eyes narrow and saw her bring the paddle sweeping down across the centre of my bum.

It hurt like hell as it impacted and cracked, and as the force of the blow pushed me forward I groaned. In the mirror, I watched her as she stood, udders swaying and her lips moist with the sexual pleasure that she derived from delivering pain.

I planted my feet firmly, pushed down with my hands onto the mattress, gritted my teeth, and watched her drive the paddle, once more, into my buttocks. As the paddle bounced away, the pain arrived, and I shouted. My bum was slowly rotating first right, then left, and back again, when the paddle landed again, and this time I screamed.

Joanna was merciless. Three more time times she swung the paddle, and three more times it cracked across my nates. I stayed in position as she threw the paddle onto the bed and ran her finger across my swollen bum flesh, shiny blue blotches now superimposed on tomato redness.

"You're very brave," she said. "I'd like to cane you now. Twelve strokes, if you can take them."

"Do your worst. I'm planning to be very bad when you've finished with me."

"Very well, but I suggest you use your fingers whilst I flog you. We'll take it slow and steady."

I lay, arse raised across the pillows, reached down, and found my clitoris. I was sodden. My cunt was leaking fluid down the inside of my thighs, and my bud was hard beneath my touch. I could not recollect ever being as horny as I was at that moment. My fingers were a blur as I rubbed and groaned in ecstasy, whilst In the mirror I watched Joanna. She too was masturbating, She stood open-legged watching me, holding the cane in her left hand, and frigging herself with her right.

I saw and heard her come. She threw her head back open-mouthed and groaned, whilst her fingers moved rapidly between her lips, her thighs quivered, and her knees bent. Her climax lasted maybe twenty seconds. After she had recovered she transferred the cane to her right hand and measured it across my bottom.

Then in one movement, she flicked the cane overhead behind her back and brought it slicing it down again, bending her knees and straightening them just before the cane tip bit deep into my bum. As the rod moved through the air I heard the characteristic whooping of a heavy rattan cane and the abrupt crack as it impacted across my flesh.

The pain should have been atrocious, but it wasn't. Instead, I felt an almost pleasant burning where the rod had impacted, and I lifted my bottom to welcome the next stroke still working my clitoris as I did.

I was in rapture. The pleasure I was feeling was indescribable when she struck again. I watched her take aim with a look of fierce concentration on her face. Her body was glistening with her sweat and her nipples were hard and erect.

My orgasm was building fast when the second stroke arrived, but it was the third stroke that took me over the edge. Joanna was an expert; she placed the stroke just where the bum cheeks meet the thighs and where the skin is most tender. An exquisite band of fire spread across the point of impact and then I came. It was mind-bending in its intensity, and I screamed in pain and ecstasy. I felt my cunt spasm and my thighs shook uncontrollably. On and on it rolled as I wailed and writhed and ground and humped myself against my fingers. My orgasm was starting to ebb, when dimly in the distance I heard the whooping of the cane, and once again I felt its sting across the centre of my wriggling buttocks. The effect was dramatic and immediate as a fresh series of spasms engulfed me and my orgasm grew strong again. I do not know how long my climax lasted, but it seemed like forever, and whilst it lasted there was only bliss. I saw nothing, heard nothing, and felt nothing but pleasure in my cunt and clitoris.

Slowly the world returned, and I became aware of Joanna standing by the bed, legs spread, frantically working her clit, and taking a further orgasm.

I lay calm and still on the bed, At that moment I felt fulfilled and strangely calm, I did not know for sure how many cane strokes I had to come, but I knew I would accept them...and more if necessary.

Joanna spoke.

"That's enough"

And I felt that strange mixture of anticlimax and relief that I often experienced when a beating finished.

***

She climbed onto the bed beside me, reached into the bedside drawer, and retrieved a tube of cream, before gently working it into my bruised and battered bottom.

"You've been spanked and caned before," she said softly.

"My mother used to punish me by spanking me and later when I got older she used a cane on me."

"Did I hurt you very much?"

"Oh yes, but it was worth it. I've never come like that before in my entire life. And I've never been caned by anybody but my mother before or had sex with a woman."

"Are you ready to?"

"Oh Yes."

"Then I'll show you how a girl licks pussy. Only a girl can do it well cos, she knows what well-licked pussy feels like."

I was tempted to disagree; I don't have a dick, but David's told me that I give great head. Nonetheless, I said nothing. It was neither the time nor the place. I wanted my pussy licked.

Soon, I got my wish, and as we sixty-nined, In deference to my sore behind I lay on top. She was very good, holding my thighs apart and spreading my labia wide before starting to slowly lick my slit. I felt her tongue against my clitoris and as she licked me I licked her.

She came first, thrusting herself up and onto me as she moved her legs together and her thighs stiffened. Moments later I came too. moaning loudly as I climaxed.

I thought I'd had enough but Joanna didn't. As I lay belly down, bum up, and legs spread wide, she knelt behind me. In the mirror I watched her slide a dildo into her snatch before she placed a wand vibrator between my legs and held it firmly against my clitoris. Then, as it gently hummed and Joanna admired my bum and her handiwork, I took one last quivering orgasm, whilst she cried out in unison with me.

I took a cab home from Joanna's. There was no mention of us meeting again. I think both of us knew that wasn't going to happen soon. We had both obtained what we wanted and needed. She had fed her need to discipline a female bum and obtain sexual relief whilst doing it. I had discovered I was truly bisexual and received the sound punishment I craved and felt that I deserved.

At home, and alone in my bedroom, I stripped naked, stood in front of the mirror, and took a good look at my bum. Much of the redness had faded but blotchy bruising caused by the paddle was clearly visible with four parallel bruises caused by the cane superimposed. The cane marks were most pronounced where the tip had bitten deeper into my left cheek and thigh. I remember regretting that Joanna had not given me the twelve strokes she had originally planned, but then thought better of it. The marks needed to fade before David returned from the Mediterranean in a month.

I lay in bed but could not sleep. It was not arousal that kept me awake but my old friend, guilt. It had come on slowly as I realised that I had been unfaithful to David and was planning to hide it from him, and now it wouldn't go away. It felt wrong. Over the following day, I wrestled with the question of what to do, and finally, I decided. I would tell him. I just didn't know how I would do it.

***

Punishment

Two days later, everything went pear-shaped. A series of coincidences conspired to take things out of my hands. It was a Monday morning, and ordinarily, I should have been at College, but the lecturer was unwell, and the class had been cancelled. I had gone for a run, and after returning home I had showered and washed my hair. I was standing, naked, at the washbasin brushing my teeth when the bathroom door opened, and David appeared.

"Hi, honey, I'm home early. The job was cancelled. I tried to ring before I got on the plane, but you were engaged," he said. "I thought I heard the shower running, But why aren't you at college?"

The moment I heard his voice I turned towards him, hiding my arse from his view.

"What a lovely surprise," I said, hurriedly. "My class was cancelled."

I stepped towards him to kiss him and saw a puzzled look appear on his face. He must have seen my arse.

"Can you turn around and show me your bum?"

"It's nothing, " I said.

"Really? Well, you won't mind showing me then. NOW!"

I turned, and behind me I heard him take a breath. Time stood still, and then after a long pause, I heard him speak.

"Please turn and face me. I'm only going to ask you once. Don't even think of lying to me. Now, who did that?"

"Joanna."

"Who's she?"

"She's the American friend of Cousin Irene, who arranged the baby shower I went to on Saturday. She spanked me afterward when everyone else had gone."

"You let her do that to you?"

"Yes, She likes to spank women."

"So you let her? Willingly?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"I needed her to punish me. I wanted her to hurt me. I wanted her to hurt me because I fancied her. I'm bisexual. I let her touch me and I enjoyed it. I'm sorry. I was unfaithful to you, I'm so sorry."

"So am I," said, David. He appeared abnormally calm.

"I'm going for a walk. I need to clear my head. We'll talk some more when I get back. Get dressed and wait for me."

About ninety minutes later he reappeared. We sat in the lounge.

"OK," he said. "I've had a shock but need to know two things. Do you love me? Was this event a one-off or are you planning to see her again?"

"Of course, I love you. No, I will never see her again."

"So let's get this straight, You get off being hurt? Please be honest with me, I really need to understand."

"Yes," I said. "Sometimes I need to be properly disciplined with a cane on the bare bottom just like my mother used to do. I like to think it's Catholic guilt, but it can't be because I wouldn't get so horny before and after would I?"

"Why didn't you tell me any of this? I'm your husband."

"Because I only thought that I might be bi, and I was scared you'd think there was something wrong with me."

"Because you're a bisexual and masochist?"

"Yes."

"So instead of telling me you risked our relationship and committed adultery with a woman who caned you?"

"I suppose yes. But please believe me I regretted it the moment I did it, I feel so guilty. I was planning to tell you anyway. Really I was. I didn't want you to find out like this. I'll never do anything like this again."

For a minute or two, he was silent. Finally, he spoke.

"I love you, Anne, I really do. But you have been extremely stupid, and you have betrayed my trust. It's going to take time for me to trust you again. I won't forgive you if you ever go behind my back again. You should have told me of your kink. It might have saved a lot of mental hurt for both of us.

Your mum told me that she used a cane on you and advised me to continue using it. Maybe I should have listened to her. She said you were wayward. So, If that's what you want then that is what you'll get. Somebody is going to have to do it and that somebody will have to be me.

But first, we need to deal with your adultery. For that, you will receive a sound caning. You are in no fit state to receive more punishment quite yet, so next Saturday you can go to London and buy the cane and anything else we might need."

***

The following Saturday morning, I travelled by train to London and went to Soho. I had to visit several sex shops before I found what David wanted for me, and then I brought it home wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string.

"I will decide when you are to be caned," he said. "Don't ask."

I knew that he was very angry with me. He had not fucked me since the night before he had left home for his aborted trip to the Mediterranean. I had learned that the survey vessel he had meant to board in Naples had developed a fault, and that, I supposed, was the reason why his trip was cancelled, and indirectly the reason I was to be disciplined.

Every morning he made me strip and inspected my bum cheeks rubbing his hands across them as he did. Every morning he had said, "Not yet."

Two weeks passed and then on Sunday morning as I was dressing to go to church he entered the bedroom.

"After church, when you arrive home, take a shower, stay naked, sit on the bed, and wait for me. You are going to receive eighteen strokes."

He turned and left me to dress.

My mind was in turmoil as I walked to church, and I was distracted throughout the service. I felt the familiar emotions of fear of, and need for, the rod. I had seen the cane that David planned to use on me, a fearsome yard-long dragon cane, and knew that it would hurt. I visualised myself bent over in front of him as if he was going to fuck me doggy style, but instead, he was measuring the cane across my bare bottom.

I knew that I deserved my punishment and hoped that it would help to take away some of the guilt I had been feeling since the day of the baby shower. I hoped that David would find it in his heart to properly forgive me for what I had done. In the church, I prayed for both of these things.

Back home, I went straight to the bedroom to undress and shower. David had already made his preparations. In the open space at the end of the bed he had placed a wooden kitchen chair, and sitting on its seat was the cane.

A little later, I was sitting on the bed as instructed, when he entered the room.

"It's time to pay your debt."

"I know."

"Bend over the chair, legs apart, and place the palms of both hands flat on the seat and don't move."

And then he caned me. Implacably, he delivered eighteen hard strokes to my naked rump. Each stroke fell at measured intervals, perhaps twenty seconds apart. That way he made sure that I felt every individual stroke before the next one fell and had plenty of time to anticipate it. He methodically worked his way from the top of my bum to my thighs. Each stroke brought with it a rapidly spreading burning band of fiery pain that peaked and ebbed just as the next arrived. It was almost six minutes of sheer agony.

He did not talk. The only sound was the rhythmic whooping of the cane, its crack against my flesh, and first my sobs and then my wailing. I did not ask him to stop what he was doing or ask for mercy. I knew that I deserved what I was getting and perhaps more.

After the first few strokes, I lost count. There was nothing in my world but the sound of the cane and the awful pain it was inflicting on my arse. On and on it went until suddenly the cane stopped falling and it was over. Slowly the outside world came back into focus, and I heard David speak.

"It's over. You can stand."

I stood and turned and faced him. Then for the first time in days, he put his arms around me, pulled me towards himself, and held me tight.

It was all too much, and I started to cry,

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, " I sobbed. "I love you so much. I really do."

He held me tight until I was calm, and then he kissed the top of my head, and then my eyes.

"I love you too," he said.

"Do you want to show me? You won't get a better offer today,"

I took his arms from around me and bent back over the chair in the same position I had assumed for my beating. With my legs apart I Knew that I was giving him a view of my bald camel toe. Over my shoulder I watched him strip naked. His penis was stiff and ready.

"No foreplay," I demanded. "Just put it in me and fuck me hard."

I was dripping. No further lubrication was necessary. I felt his bulbous tip nudge between my lips and slowly penetrate me. He was rock-hard and very aroused and drove himself hungrily into me. His belly and pelvis slapped against my sore swollen bum, but I did not care. The pleasure in my cunt and clitoris and my pure animal desire to have a long hard dick fill me and fuck me trumped everything else, and I screamed as he gave me what I both wanted and needed.

I felt his penis seemed to grow inside me, and he grunted, and I knew that soon he would come. As he shortened his stroke and dug his fingers into my haunches he rutted frantically, and my orgasm hit me. It was long, powerful, and wonderful, made better by the guttural noises he was making, and the sticky white sperm dribbling out of me when he withdrew his softening and satisfied dick.

***

He helped me into bed; and there, in his arms and lying on my belly with just a light sheet covering me, I fell asleep. I was exhausted by the emotional and physical toll of the morning and when I woke it was mid-afternoon.

The first thing I saw was David. He was lying naked on his side watching me and smiling. Right then I knew that I was forgiven.

"How do you feel," he asked.

"Cleansed, as if I've been to confession." I replied. "How do you feel?"

"I'm trying to come to terms with what I've learned about myself today. I never dreamed that caning you could be so erotic. You'd better hope I don't get to like it too much."

"I'm sure we'll come to an arrangement that suits us both."

I paused, then continued to speak.

"Just now when you asked me how I felt. I omitted something. I feel horny as hell. You're going to have to do something about that."

I reached down and took his penis, now hard as iron in my hand..... It was going to be a long afternoon.

***

Epilogue

The events that I have described above happened almost a quarter of a century ago, and David and I are still together. He still works in the oil industry, but nowadays his trips abroad last days not months.

I am a senior partner in an accountancy firm.

My mother once shrieked, "Marry in haste. Repent at leisure," when she first learned of our marriage. Thankfully, she was wrong, but if David had been a lesser man, she might have been proved right.

My mother and I did not speak to one another for several years after I eloped with David, but eventually, several years later we were reconciled. She was still the joyless woman I had always known. She lived just long enough to see her granddaughter, Mary, born, and then she died a year later.

I have never betrayed David since that afternoon in 2001. Although I still fancy women, I have not been tempted to stray again. There is no need. I get everything I need at home.

The sex is still wonderful. He knows when I need a long slow screw or when I need a hard animalistic fucking, and he knows when I need more than this.