Entrapment

***

The following evening Alan arrived at the flat. It was around eight o'clock and I had been home for the last two hours waiting for him. In his hand, he was carrying a long thin brown paper package. The butterflies in my stomach, which had been present since I woke in the morning, had got worse as evening approached. I had tried to distract myself by cleaning and tidying the flat but soon I realised I was doing a half-arse job and stopped and sat and mindlessly watched a reality show repeat.

Alan entered the hallway and kissed me on the lips before looking earnestly into my eyes.

"You're sure you want this?"

"No, but yes."

"Very well. Go upstairs. Take a shower then come to the lounge, naked apart from your bathrobe. Be quick. Ten minutes. No more."

I did as I was told, and a few minutes early, I entered the lounge. The radio was playing loudly. He had pushed the armchair and settee against the far wall and the coffee table had been moved out of the way to clear a space in the middle of the room where he had positioned a wooden kitchen chair. He was sitting on the settee waiting. It was then that my eyes were drawn back to the chair where a cane and ball-gag sat waiting. The cane was light brown, about three feet long, and the thickness of my little finger. It was then that I suddenly realised I was scared.

He stood and crossed to the chair and picked up the cane. He spoke softly.

"Do you want a gag?"

"No."

"OK, the radio should cover any noise we make but if you are too noisy I will make you wear it. Now, when I tell you, I want you to take off your robe, bend over the back of the seat with your legs apart, stick your bum out, and hold onto the seat of the chair. I am going to give you twelve strokes at twenty-second intervals. You must not move or take your hands off the seat or feet off the floor. If you do you will get extra strokes. And remember... you asked for this. But I agree you deserve what is coming. Now strip and bend over."

My bum is in my opinion just a little big and plump and my thighs are just a little meaty which I suppose makes them well-built to receive corporal punishment. Strangely, that is what I was thinking as I bent over to take my punishment.

The thought did not stay with me long. I felt the rod rest lightly across my bum cheeks as Alan took aim, and then it lifted, and I heard a high-pitched whistling sound followed by a crack as the cane landed. For a millisecond I felt nothing but suddenly my world was all pain as an atrocious fiery band of pain appeared simultaneously across both nates. The pain peaked over a few seconds before slowly ebbing into a residual unpleasant soreness. I remember hanging onto the chair seat for dear life and I must have bent my knees because I heard Alan speak.

"Keep your legs straight and bum out. Don't look back."

And then the cane landed again, and a second band of fire appeared to flare and recede just in time for the cane to strike again. The cycle seemed endless as the cane whistled and cracked and pain built on pain. I had resolved not to cry out but by the third stroke, I was gasping loudly after each one.

Alan later told me that by the second stroke was bum was rotating slowly first in one direction and then the other, and my bum cheeks clenched and relaxed as he caned me, and I resisted the temptation to rub them and white-knuckled held on tightly to the chair.

The twelve strokes took a little under four minutes to apply. Those were the longest four minutes of my life up until then. I had lost count when the last stroke fell, and the punishment suddenly ceased.

"Stand up and face me," he said.

Gingerly, I rose to my feet, and with a hand rubbing each bum cheek I turned. My bottom felt hot and swollen with parallel ridges palpable under my fingers. Alan dropped the cane and held me tight.

"Put your arms around me," he whispered.

I felt his strong hands replace mine and slowly massage each of my throbbing globes as he pulled me tight against himself and I felt his prick, hard and erect, against my belly.

"You've been very brave. Please bend over again."

I bent and waited. I remember thinking, no more. please no more. I should not have worried. I heard movement behind me, the rustling of clothes being shed, and then I felt Alan's hands on my hips and his penis head between the lips of my cunt. He slid inside me with no resistance. My cunt was wet with my juices and ready for filling. In my pain, I had not realised how horny my caning had made me.

Alan was not gentle. He may not have wanted to cane me but now it was obvious how it had aroused him. He was as hard as rock as he drove rapidly in and out of me; long powerful strokes as his balls and belly slapped against my bruised bum cheeks. He leaned forward and I felt his hands on my tits and then my nipples, hard and erect and oh so sensitive, between his fingers.

My orgasm had been building, and as he squeezed my nipples this took me over the edge, and I came long and hard. In those moments there was nothing in my universe but my clit and my cunt. My vaginal, bum, and thigh muscles relaxed and contracted, and, in my ecstasy, I heard a faraway screaming and then my voice.

"Don't you stop you bastard. Don't you dare fucking stop?"

My orgasm was brain-melting. I had never experienced anything like it. It went on and on. He had no intention of stopping and his prick was like a piston going to the heart of me, whilst waves of sexual pleasure washed over me.

And then he groaned loudly, his strokes shortened, I felt a fluid warmth deep inside of me, and my senses returned me to the real world. As I slowly became aware of the residual burning in my buttocks I wondered how much damage had been done.

It turned out to be relatively little. A trip to the hallway where there was a full-length wall mirror revealed my arse to be bright pink with a series of parallel red lines superimposed but with little bruising and no bleeding. It occurred to me that Alan had not struck me full force and I wondered just how much more painful a really severe caning might be... The sort of caning Ursula might administer.

***

Later that night I lay naked in Alan's arms. We had just made love again, but this time it had been soft and gentle, and I was basking in the afterglow when I spoke.

"Alan, let me telephone Ursula in the morning and call it off. You don't have to do it. She's going to hurt you badly."

He turned on his side, supported himself on one elbow, and replied.

"I think you took a caning today because you felt guilty and wanted to be punished for it. The punishment was fair, and you were very brave, but you are no masochist. I think you are a very confused sadist.

I AM a masochist or at least I think I am. I AM certainly submissive. We both know that. I am truly sorry that I was unfaithful to you, but in my defence, you set me up to be unfaithful. Both you and Ursula knew that if she offered it on a plate I would fuck her. I wish I hadn't. I wish I could have shown you a better person.

I will take my caning tomorrow not because I am guilty of something but because I want it and need it. You guessed that, and that's why you did what you did. If I had not fucked Ursula I would still want her to cane me. This is my opportunity to experience something I've wanted for a long time.

You don't ask a submissive masochist whether he wants to be caned, you just do it.

The only rule is no lasting damage. You were right to ask Ursula. The whole point of the exercise is to hurt me, and you can be sure she'll do that. She doesn't love me."

He paused smiled and looked me hard in the eye.

"Promise me that you'll not tell Ursula anything about me knowing about your little ruse."

I said nothing.

"Promise now," he said gently.

!I promise," I replied.

***

Late, the following afternoon we arrived at the house in Plympton and Ursula met us at the door. As usual, despite having "worked" earlier that day she was impeccably groomed and dressed. She wore designer jeans and a white tee shirt and not a hair of her head was out of place. Her outfit only served to accentuate both her curvy femininity and the raw power of her body. I wondered which of these qualities Alan had found most appealing.

The three of us sat together in Ursula's lounge. She sat on a chair facing Alan and leaned forward as she spoke to him.

"Do you know what you are here for?" she asked. Her voice was calm and conversational.

"I slept with you and cheated on Fiona?"

"No. That's the reason you are here. I asked why you are here."

"To be punished."

"That's right. More precisely, to be caned. And you are not being punished for fucking me. You are being punished for cheating on Fiona. I understand you were warned. Have you ever felt the cane?"

"No."

"You soon will. Hard across your bare buttocks. Fiona has asked me to discipline you. She wants to watch you suffer. It's my job to make sure you do."

She stood and picked up the cane which was lying on the glass and steel coffee table in front of her. It was a smoke-brown dragon cane, a yard long with, a plaited red leather grip. It appeared more formidable than the instrument used on me a few hours before. She slashed it whooping through the air a couple of times and looked earnestly at him.

"I'm a professional dominatrix. I'm very proficient. Just because you fucked me don't think I'm not going to hurt you. Now, do you agree you deserve to be punished?"

He didn't hesitate.

"Yes," he replied.

"I agree. Infidelity is a sin; a carnal sin and you deserve appropriate punishment. Illicit physical pleasure paid for with physical pain. You are very lucky. Today you are going to receive my services for free. Normally I charge people up to fifty pounds to deliver the twenty-four strokes you are going to receive. By the time I have finished with you, your arse will be swollen, burning red, and covered in ridged welts, but don't worry I shan't do you any permanent damage.

Now I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. You are going to go upstairs to the room at the end of the corridor where you will find a bed with a cushion on it. You will strip naked, fold your clothes neatly and place them on the chair by the wall, then lie on the bed with your belly on the cushion and your arse in the air, and wait for us. We will be along shortly."

Five minutes later I followed Ursula into the bedroom where Alan lay naked and exposed on the bed. The double bed, which sat in the centre of the room was old and metal framed, and the mattress was uncovered. Apart from the bed, the only other furniture in the room was an old wooden kitchen chair set against the wall, where his clothes lay folded, and a cheap self-assembly cupboard. The walls were painted white and bare apart from a few small mirrors and a large round clock high on one side, The only window was small and had net curtains drawn across it. I remember thinking how incongruous the expensive thick-pile carpet was.

Ursula was holding the cane in her right hand and silently strode up behind Alan, before, without warning, she raised it high above her head and brought it down across his buttocks. As he shrieked in surprise and agony and rolled about on the bed, she struck him a second time.

Alan frantically rubbed his bum.

"Fuck," he shouted.

Ursula laughed.

"Those were tasters. I wanted you to know what the cane feels like whilst you wait for me to cane you properly an hour from now. Those were love taps compared with what you're going to get. You have a choice. You can put your clothes on and walk out of here, or you can give Julia your clothes. sit on the chair over there and watch the clock."

She pointed first at the wooden chair placed against the wall and then at the clock hanging on the wall opposite Its second hand was jerking as it moved around the face. She continued to speak.

"I can promise you It will be your last opportunity to sit for a while. Don't you dare touch yourself either. It's in your own best interest to be horny when I thrash you. It will hurt less and if I think you've been wanking I'll add twelve strokes. When I return it will be to discipline you. You will do exactly as I tell you promptly and without question, you will speak only when you are spoken to, and you will address me as ma'am. If you forget any of this there will be consequences. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Your clothes, please. You can give them to Julia."

Obediently he picked them up and gave them to me.

"Come along Fiona. Don't forget his shoes and socks. Would you like a glass of wine or a G and T whilst he waits and thinks about what I am going to do to him?"

***

Back in the lounge, I made myself comfortable whilst Ursula poured us both a glass of cold white wine.

"You're right," she said. "He wants to be caned. But didn't he suspect he might have been set up?"

"Apparently not," I replied." I told him that it was a coincidence that you were a dominatrix and that if it wasn't going to be you caning him, I would find someone else."

"Fair enough. Let's let him stew for a while and enjoy our drinks."

***

Precisely one hour later, I followed Ursula into the room where Alan sat nervously waiting for us. He had been given ample time to anticipate what lay in store for him and his beautiful, long, uncircumcised, and bulbous cock was stiff and erect.

I watched as she walked over to where he was sitting and stood looking down at him. Alan was tall, well over six feet in my estimation, but Ursula towered over him and must have been an intimidating sight as, cane in hand, she spoke.

"It's time. Place the chair at the head of the bed and lie, arse up, over the cushion."

As Alan hurried to do as he had been told, she glanced over her shoulder to where I was standing by the door.

"Why don't you sit down for now Julia? You'll get a nice view of his "pain face," and if you want to see his bum getting it, you can always walk around and stand opposite me and watch from there."

I sat facing Alan and Ursula placed the cane by his side on the mattress before crossing to the cupboard where she retrieved the restraints she needed.

"He'll need to be tied," She remarked conversationally.

She attached his outstretched arms and legs to the four corners of the bed using leather wrist and ankle straps and short lengths of rope. Spreadeagled on the mattress he reminded me of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian man as he might have been drawn from behind. His broad, round buttocks lay across the cushion. Their skin was white and for now unmarked.

Ursula then immobilised him further by passing three broad leather straps under the bed and over his waist, thighs, and lower legs, before pulling each one tight and fastening the buckles.

Finally, I watched her pick up a large towel from the foot of the bed, fold it over several times and place it over his lower back.

"Perfect," she said.

***

"The punishment for infidelity," she said. "Twenty-four strokes, half from the right and half from the left. The first dozen thirty seconds apart. The second dozen in two sets of six without stopping."

She paused and smiled gently.

"Shall we begin Alan? Are you ready? "she asked.

I hear him reply.

"Yes ma'am."

"Then prepare yourself. This will hurt."

First, she kicked off her house-shoes and then she stood a couple of yards to his right and measured the cane across his buttocks. I saw her eyes narrow and then she suddenly brought the cane high above her shoulder and in one fluid movement brought it slicing down again. As she had raised the cane she had bent slightly at the knees and then straightened them on the downstroke. The cane whooped as it moved, and then cracked as it impacted, and I heard Alan gasp. I looked at Alan and his mouth was open in an expression of pain, surprise, or maybe disbelief.

Thirty seconds later she repeated the process and Alan gasped again. His eyes were wide with pain I saw Ursula watch the clock and as the second hand moved around, she placed the cane gently across his bum cheeks and struck again, This time Alan whimpered gently. She struck him three more times before she paused. Adam had whimpered quietly throughout.

"That's six," she said before walking around the end of the bed to stand on the opposite side to his left.

Alan lay quiet and waiting. I was now inquisitive to see the damage that had been done and went to stand opposite Ursula. I looked down at Alan's buttocks and saw that they were scored with six red parallel stripes. At the end of each stripe, the flesh was beginning to darken into an angry purple where the tip of the cane had bitten more deeply into his bum cheek.

"This is when the punishment starts," she said.

Whether she was talking to me, or Alan I do not know.

And then the cane flew high into the air and arced down across his backside. As it bit and bounced away, a white line formed and then slowly turned red, his buttocks twitched and quivered, and Alan sobbed loudly.

Ursula remained impassive, Five more times the cane rose and fell whooping and slicing into his meaty arse and when she paused again it was scored with red and purple welts.

I had been watching with growing interest as his punishment was slowly meted out and could feel the dampness between my legs. I suppose I should have felt guilty, but I didn't. I felt horny.

"That's twelve, and now we wait five minutes," she said. "You'll feel the last dozen more if we wait."

Ursula stood at the end of the bed where Alan could not see her and then walked back to the wall and beckoned me over silently with her finger.

"Now we let him stew some more. The next dozen will be much harder," she whispered.

"He asked for it," I said softly.

A few minutes later, I sat back on the wooden chair, looked Alan directly in the eyes, and smiled sympathetically. I saw Ursula take up her position to his right, legs apart and sideways on. There was a look of fierce concentration on her face. As she rested the rod on his bum I spoke.

"Not long now"

And Ursula exploded into action. She bent her knees, arched her back, and threw the cane high over her head before bringing it sweeping downwards, straightening her body as she did. The sound of the cane was much louder than before, and I saw Alan open his mouth wide, but no sound came out. She did not wait, but a few seconds later struck again, and this time, as the cane bit deep into his bum flesh, he cried out. It took her less than twenty seconds to deliver all six strokes.

"Eighteen."

I stood and looked down at his bottom, now lined with red and blue ridged welts and the skin a shiny blue on the far cheek where the tip had landed most. His bottom was slowly rotating, first clockwise, then counterclockwise, and then back again. I thought back to my caning and wondered at the pain he must be feeling.

"I think he's had enough," I said to Ursula.

"That's up to you," replied Ursula as she stepped back. Then she walked to the end of the bed and looked down at Alan.

"We are finished. Say, thank you to Julia. She's a far nicer person than me."

She stood waiting, cane in hand.

Alan remained silent, breathing heavily.

"Well? Do you have something to say?"

What Alan said next shocked me.

"I don't want pity. I'm due six more. Get it over with."

Ursula shrugged.

"Very well."

She crossed to his left, stood for a moment, and examined his buttocks closely.

"Keep still," she said.

Then she let fly. As the cane rose and fell and rapidly rose again, his globes writhed and wriggled in a vain attempt to escape the rod. It was as if they had a mind of their own. Alan was very noisy but fell silent when the last stroke fell.

"Twenty-four," said Ursula.