Loger No. 2

They stayed like that for a minute more before he said, "Given your guilty plea, I think the court will suspend the remaining sentence for the time being," desperate to consummate this wonderful union.

"What! Absolutely not," he was taken aback by this, "I'm not quitting now, you have a job to do and I need to go through with this. You have no idea how many times I have played this through in my mind, never believing it would happen yet wishing it would. Even if I can't bear it, I need to go there, I need to fully open that door and run through." She took a step backwards and in what appeared to be a single movement, lifted her top over her head somehow taking with it her bra, and before he'd had a chance to take in her breasts she'd thumbed her thong to the floor, picked up one of the canes from the bed and returned to face him offering it in two hands. "Please use the cane on me...darling, please." She tailed off as she too had confirmed their love. His eyes wide, mouth dry, eyes soaking up her nakedness, hands slowly relieving her of their proffered gift. "Please, do it properly...don't hold back...I need this. I need to feel the bruises as I sit at work tomorrow and play back what is about to happen...and what will certainly be happening right after."

His head was swimming. He'd caned a girlfriend properly once when he was younger but he'd known she was doing it for him, his wife had not even agreed to more than a few medium strokes. Now, it was happening for real and the adrenalin was pumping. The cane was light, the weight of expectation, heavy. "Ok, but you need to do as I say, understand?" She nodded and he indicated she should return to her position. "I will rest the cane on your bottom like this and as soon as you feel me do so you must expel all the air from your lungs. I will then deliver the stroke after which you are encouraged to breathe. When you are ready for the next one you must count out loud the stroke you have just received so I know you are ready. I will give you six strokes and after the last one you will remain in this position. Do your best not to stand and remember the first one provides the biggest shock so be prepared." She turned her head, looked at him apprehensively, and nodded.

He watched her breathing, almost hyperventilating, determined to accept this sensation. He ran the tip of the cane between her shoulder blades and down her back and in turn she seemed to relax and offer her bottom up to him. He rested the cane across her cheeks and saw her shoulders drop as she pushed the air from her lungs, and then he whipped it in with a crack that surprised him given the surrounding silence. The rattan bit in and immediately a white-hot line appeared across the centre of her beautifully red globes. In an instant her knees buckled and came to rest on the edge of the bed, but the lack of air in her lungs meant she could only groan a few seconds later. "Try to welcome the sensation, see it for what it is and step outside the pain," and to her credit she appeared to take it in, pushed her knees back and after a few breaths she spoke.

"One, thank you Sir." Again he was bowled-over. She had gone the extra mile, given him more than he'd asked. The white line had turned to an angry-red raised welt that seemed to decorate the surface of her bottom like a red sash. She shifted the weight on both feet and visibly relaxed as he laid the cane on its resting place and saw her abdomen contract. Stroke two landed with equal force a little below the first and again a small mewing noise escaped her lips, but her knees remained. She's going to do this, he thought as she rose on to tip-toes in reaction to the after-shock and then performed a little jiggle. The count came quicker this time but he could tell the throb hadn't yet subsided so he gave it a few seconds before he parked the cane once more. Ensuring she had time to breathe out he snapped his wrist a little sharper for the third landing it lower than number two and catching the most sensitive part of her under-cheek. "Oh, ow, ow," she complained but kept her composure while doing another little jiggle on her toes. Half way there now, he ran the cane up the inside of her right thigh and slowly across her sex, she bucked wildly at the unexpected coolness of the rod, "Oh, ah, you sod, that is so not fair," she said but he continued to slide it between her legs with just enough friction to cause her to cock her hips back in order for the rattan to make contact with the front, most-intimate area. "Three, Three, Three, thank you Sir," she squealed but not before her lips had parted and left a thin film on the cane. This so engaged Mike that he almost forgot to give her the warning and ended up swishing the cane through the air, making her jump, causing her to emit a relieved giggle.

"FOUR, THANK you Sir," as she hopped from one foot to the other trying to calm the wave-upon-wave of pulsating pain that was evidently emanating from somewhere above the first well-established welt. This one had been perfect with the cane smartly wrapping around the width of her right cheek but not so much as to reach the side. Again he let her gather her senses before the fifth came whistling in somewhere between the second and third ridges, catching both in a couple of places, the resulting groan seemed to come from deep within her. She'd definitely be feeling that tomorrow as her skin raised in to an inch-wide welt where the three tracks combined. "Five, thank you Sir." It came more measured than any other, almost whispered, and then, "Please make it a good one," as she again cocked her hips back and pushed up on to her toes. The crack of the final stroke pierced the air but was followed by absolute silence. How had she taken that and remained in place? It had landed between the first and fourth strokes breaking both lines and wrapping enough to leave a tip mark at the very edge of her buttock. And still she was silent.

"You can get up now," her reaction wasn't immediate but she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her face was red as the blood had run to it and there was a trace of tears in her eyes but there was also a huge grin on her face.

"Did it," she said, and then almost threw herself at him, her mouth reaching to meet his in a kiss that seemed to go on forever. Eventually she slid a hand down his front and prised its way down the front of his jeans until further progress was blocked and she had to break from the kiss to free him from his own personal bondage.

They fell on to the bed and fucked, and fucked, and fucked some more until sleep eventually overcame them. He woke first and as consciousness returned he pulled the duvet back - no, no dream, that was the most breathtaking sight he would ever see. They managed another as she woke on her front and obliged by lifting her hips to let him in. Looking down at her now well-bruised bottom as they pushed in to each other was a memory he knew he would never forget.

She did eventually get to work, he worked from home but not much work was actually done. Lots of explicit texts were sent though.