The Story of Thao Pt. 01

"We wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable," said Aimee.

She picked up four leather buckled straps and handed them to me, and I busied myself binding his ankles and wrists to the table legs. Christopher knew what was expected of him, and it was the work of only a few minutes to have him immobilised and ready.

Aimee had placed a chair in the corner of the room to the left-hand side of the table where I had a perfect view of his broad pale muscular bum cheeks which lay stretched tight and waiting.

I sat and watched as Aimee retrieved the cane from on top of the sideboard where it had been waiting. She held the ends in each hand and flexed it, and for the first time, I was able to get a good look at it. The rod was about a yard long and half an inch in diameter with a black corded handle. As the cane bowed in her hands, the suppleness of the rattan from which it was made was readily apparent.

She stood behind him and swished the cane back and forth behind him, before taking up a position to his right. It was just then that two things occurred to me. She had dressed for the occasion, and she was left-handed.

She tapped the cane lightly across his buttocks as she spoke,

"Now I'm going to teach you what happens to a man who has a stiffie in front of anyone but me. Now, what do you have to say before I start, Christopher?"

"Please cane me hard, Aimee. I'm sorry. I deserve it."

"Very well. It's my job to make this hurt very badly and be sure I will."

No sooner had the words left her lips than she exploded into action, and in one fluid and rapid movement she brought the cane up behind her back before bringing it down, in a wide arc, across his bum. The cane whistled and cracked, his buttocks jerked, and I heard him grunt, Seconds later a long red wheal, appeared as if by magic, on the skin the cane had impacted.

Christopher's buttocks had clenched in pain for several seconds and then stilled. Aimee waited for another ten seconds or so before she struck again. This time she struck a little lower and a fresh red line of burning flesh appeared, Christopher let out a long groan of anguish and his nates jerked and clenched for longer than they had before.

She lay the cane gently across his cheeks, took fresh aim, and drove the cane once more into his flesh. As it cracked and bounced away, he groaned again and his glutes rhythmically clenched, relaxed, and clenched again.

I sat silently and watched in awe as Aimee continued with her task. She too said nothing as she concentrated on delivering hard accurate strokes to his rapidly reddening behind. The only sounds were the whistling of the cane, the sound of its impact, and Christopher's increasingly strident moans of pain.

I felt no sympathy for Christopher. I was far too aroused by the sight and sounds of what I was witnessing.

Aimee was tall and powerfully built. Her already severe features were accentuated by the look of grim determination on her face. As she swung the cane, I was able to see her breasts moving under her tee shirt. Her nipples were erect under the flimsy fabric, and I realised that she too was sexually excited.

After six strokes his bum was taking even longer to stop writhing after each stroke and dark blue bruises were visible on his left cheek where the tip of the cane had bitten more deeply into his bum flesh. She was implacable and paid no attention to his cries but waited for him to stop moving before she struck over and over again.

When she had delivered the full dozen strokes, she stopped. His bum was swollen and traversed by a dozen parallel red lines turning a deep blue over the left side.

She placed the cane on the sideboard, turned to me, and spoke.

"Now we give him a ten-minute rest. It will give his bum a chance to cool a little and ensure that the next dozen really hurt. He can take the opportunity to think about what's coming next."

It was at that moment that I made my decision.

"Is the offer for me to give him the last twelve still open?" I suddenly asked.

For a moment she appeared surprised.

"Do you think you can?"

"Oh yes."

"OK then. But can I suggest you tie back your hair and take off that dress? It's far too tight."

As Aimee went to find me a hairband, I slipped off the tight red ao dai (traditional Vietnamese dress) I had been wearing. Underneath, I was wearing a black bra, panties, and stockings. I had shed my shoes at the door. Aimee appeared with the hairband and soon I was ready.

"Do you mind if I give you a couple of pointers?"

"Please do."

"Most important. We want to hurt him, not harm him, so avoid the coccyx."

"Sorry?"

The tailbone. Strike between the fleshy part of his bottom and the tops of his thighs. Don't try to hit him too hard until you get your aim. Don't worry. Any strokes that I think aren't painful enough won't count and I'll give to him as extras. Hold the cane loosely. That allows more of the cane's kinetic energy to be delivered where you want it to go... his bum. It's good that you're right-handed. His right cheek will feel the tip. Make sure you don't overstretch and wrap the cane around his flank."

She smiled.

"Caning isn't just hitting someone with a stick. Before you start show him yourself. Let him see who it is who is going to punish him. You look good."

***

I felt so sexy and empowered as I picked up the cane, walked around the table to the end where Christopher could see me, and looked down at him.

"What do you want me to do, Christopher?"

"He looked back at me and spoke quietly."

"Please cane me, Thao."

"I can't hear you. Speak up."

"Please cane me, Thao."

"Very well. If you insist."

I measured the rod across his buttocks and took a deep breath. I was determined to make sure that every stroke counted. As I watched his muscles start to twitch in involuntary anticipation of the pain about to be inflicted upon them, I felt absolutely no pity and was determined to make the next few minutes as unpleasant as I could.

I was no longer caning Christoper. I was caning Dinh and all the men who had conspired to cause me so much pain in life. He had become my whipping boy, and I was going to take my opportunity to punish him properly.

My first stroke surprised everybody. I raised the cane high above my head, bent my knees, and then brought the cane down as hard as I could, straightening my legs and flicking the tip into his right bum cheek. I put all my strength into it driven by the long sublimated pent-up rage against men that I was feeling.

The cane sang loudly, bit deeply into his behind, and then bounced away leaving a vivid crimson stripe. His posterior jerked upwards, his muscles quivered, and I heard a long screech.

"Oh Bravo!" said Aimee.

I waited until his arse stopped moving and placed the rod across his nates and was pleased and aroused as his muscles started to quiver in dread. I aimed for a spot slightly lower before I unleashed my second stroke. This time I was a little more confident of my aim and was able to strike harder flicking my wrist to drive the tip deep into his right globe. The loud whoop of the downstroke was followed by a loud crack and for the first time Christopher spoke.

"Ohhhh Fuckkkk!"

And I watched another tramline rapidly start to develop.

As I measured my third stroke, Aimee had moved to the opposite end of the table and was talking to him.

"Does it hurt? Does it hurt?"

I heard a soft unintelligible response before she spoke again.

"Good. Only ten to go. And she's going to hurt you even more than I already have. She's going to give you the thrashing of your life, and I'm going to savour every single fucking cut."

That was when I delivered the third stroke, and he yelled and jerked against his bindings with such strength the table moved.

Five minutes later it was over. Twenty-four parallel stripes had coalesced into a swollen mass of crimson with dark blue bruises over each of his globes. Here and there, where strokes had inevitably overlapped, a little blood oozed.

***

Aimee declared herself "well pleased."

"He's had enough," she said. "He'll be right as rain in a couple of weeks, but he won't forget tonight in a hurry."

She untied him and left him to lie and recover over the table whilst she rubbed salve onto his wounds. Twenty minutes later she helped him rise from the table and I saw that she had been right, and his prick, now flaccid, hung down between his legs. She gave him some paracetamol and ibuprofen and escorted him upstairs to bed.

When she returned, I had slipped my dress back on and was sitting in the lounge.

"Time to crack another bottle," she remarked and went into the kitchen returning with a full bottle of white wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. She quickly uncorked the bottle, poured two glasses, and handed me one.

"I'm not often surprised, Thao, but girl you are a fucking natural. Was that really the first time you've handled a cane."

"Yes, but I practice Yoga and I'm sure that helped."

"Do you have anger issues?"

"I dislike men intensely. This evening I discovered just how much."

"You're gay?"

"No, but I wish I were. Not trusting men as far as you can throw them, but simultaneously wanting to fuck one is not the best of places to be."

"Shit. I thought Christopher had no chance when I learned he fancied you."

"How did you find out?"

"He's the only man who ever gets to fuck me without a rubber, so when I found a pack of them in his wallet, I guessed he must be planning something. I confronted him and he knows better than to lie to me. Now I've got a question for you. Why do you dislike men so much?"

So, I told her of the war, the voyage, the pirates, the years in the camp, my father, and my dickless ex, Dingh. I told her that Christopher did not know I had been married and was waiting for a divorce, and he thought I was a virgin.

"This evening, I took it out on Christopher. Except it wasn't just revenge, it was the most erotic experience of my life. I enjoyed hurting him. I enjoyed watching his bum wriggling as we applied the stripes. I enjoyed his sounds of suffering, even though I like him. Is there something wrong with me?"

Aimee looked straight at me.

"If there is, then I have the same problem. We are sadists. Christopher is a masochist. The perfect match."

We stopped talking. There was an elephant in the room.

Before I could speak, Aimee did.

"You want to fuck him, don't you?"

"He's very beautiful."

"He's also a fucking memorable screw. Well?"

"Of course, I want to fuck him."

"Give him a few weeks and you can have him. After everything you've been through you deserve to experience something good that a man can provide, and I like you. After that, if you want him again, and I'm pretty sure you will.... Well... I'm sure that something can be arranged, but he's going to have to pay for the pleasure."

***

Ninety minutes later I lay naked in bed, I had showered, washed my hair, and brushed my teeth, and was now going to devote some time to myself. The experience of the evening had been one of self-discovery and I had learned things about myself that I supposed I must have been denying. It is not every day that you learn you are a sexual sadist. Watching Christopher writhing and moaning as he was caned had been erotic enough, but the feeling of power I felt as I delivered his punishment had been a step beyond. I knew then that my vanilla life was over forever.

I had a more pressing concern which was fortunately easy to deal with. I was as horny as hell and desperately needed relief.

As I replayed the caning in my mind, I felt the familiar moistness between my legs. I reached down and found my button and slowly started to rub, and soon I was very wet indeed. My vibrating dildo now slid inside of me with ease, before I fucked myself to two shuddering orgasms, and turned to sleep.

As I lay there in the dark, my thoughts returned to Christopher, but now I imagined his long thick penis deep inside of me, and the knowledge that this would soon be a reality had me wanting more. This time I used my wand before I switched off the light.

Paradoxically, after the cruelty of the evening, my last thoughts before I dropped off to sleep were charitable. I Imagined Christopher lying with his bum striped and sore and his beautiful dick hard and erect, and I hoped that Aimee had been considerate enough to give him hand relief.

***

Two weeks later, on a Saturday morning just before midday, there was a ring on the doorbell and when I answered it, I found Christopher waiting.

"Hello, Thao. I hope this isn't a bad time. Aimee sent me. She said you had a job that needed doing. She said you'd tell me what needs doing. "

Me, I thought to myself, as I innocently asked him how much time he had got.

"All day. Aimee's at work. She'll not be back until this evening."

"Ok. I'll show you what needs to be done in a moment, but first would you like a cup of tea."

"I'd prefer a coffee. If you're not in a hurry."

As we drank our coffee, we made light conversation until I decided it was time to let him know why he was sitting in my kitchen with me.

"How's your bum?"

Just for a second, he looked down in embarrassment.

"Come on. Don't be shy. We're both adults."

I paused and looked straight at him.

"Better still, why don't you show me? Please lower your trousers and underpants, turn around, and show me your arse."

Christopher did some of what he was told to do. I had spoken softly but firmly and his previous treatment at my hands appeared to have impressed upon him of the need for him to be subservient to me.

First, he turned his back to me, and then he unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers and then his underpants until they lay around his ankles. His buttocks were now exposed to view, and I could still discern the faint marks of the cane tracks with residual bruising from the tip of the cane.

"You're almost ready for more," I said conversationally. "I asked you to lower your trousers and pants and then turn around, and not in the order you did it. In future, please do exactly as you are told. Now, turn and face me."

He turned, and I made a point of looking down between his legs and watched with pleasure and anticipation as his sleeping penis started to swell and lengthen until it was rock hard and pointing directly at me.

"Aimee has sent you here so that you can use that on me to your and my mutual satisfaction," I said. "Don't worry she's given us her blessing and you've already received your punishment for anything we do today. You're not even going to be unfaithful. Oh, I don't suppose you've brought your rubbers, but don't worry we won't need them. I'm on the pill.

Please go to my bedroom at the top of the stairs, get naked, and get into bed. I'll be along shortly."

As I had been talking, his face first registered surprise and then he smiled. It's not every day that a pretty, tiny, and sexy Vietnamese lady tells you to fuck her.

I suppose he had no choice. Aimee had sent him to me, and although he wouldn't get caned if he bedded me, he sure as fuck would have been if he didn't, or if he didn't provide full satisfaction.

Christopher knew what was best for him, as I was about to find out. Satisfaction was guaranteed.

***

When I entered the bedroom, he was already in bed, looking expectantly across at me. Despite my apparent self-confidence, I was nervous. My knowledge of sex was negligible, and I had never made love, although I was under no illusion that that was what we were about to do. We were going to fuck. I may have liked him, but I didn't love him.

Aimee had told me not to be fooled by Christopher's submissive nature, and that he was "all man in the bedroom department." Dingh had certainly not been. In the half dozen or so times he had put his tiny dick in me it had always been with him lying awkwardly and uncomfortably on top of me, then thrusting for a short while before grunting and rolling away. He never had any thought of my pleasure.

I Put these thoughts away and looked at Christopher watching me and saw something I had never seen before. A man was looking at me with lust in his eyes.

That morning I was wearing a figure-hugging ao dai, which I removed before unclipping my bra, stepping out of my panties, and revealing my yoga-tuned naked body. My light-brown skin was smooth and flawless. M pubes were unshaven and a wispy downy black. My boobs the size of large oranges stood firm, and I turned to show him my tight round arse.

Aimee - God bless her- had warned me that she was sending Christopher to me, and I had showered and washed my hair and applied makeup. My lips are small my nose a little snub and my eyes are big and brown. Aimee had told me I was beautiful, and I was starting to believe her. Nobody, apart from my mother, had ever told me that. I didn't value my mother's opinion very much. Isn't there an Arabic proverb that says, "In the eyes of its mother, a monkey is a gazelle."

I pulled back the bed sheets and climbed into bed next to Christopher. He turned to face me, put both his arms around me, and pulled me gently tight against his chest. I felt his prick, hard against me, and started to itch in anticipation.

He looked into my eyes."

"So beautiful and so cruel

"And oh, so horny," I replied.

Then, he kissed, me and I hungrily kissed him back. That kiss was long and deep and the most passionate thing that I had ever done. That was soon going to change.

"Have you ever been with a man?" he asked gently.

"Pretend I haven't."

As I lay on my back, he gently kissed both of my breasts in turn, taking both my nipples between his lips and sucking them. He stopped for just a moment and threw the bed sheets onto the floor so that we could see to one and move unimpeded.

I tingled with the pleasure of it as he returned to kissing my breasts, and then his right hand gently parted my thighs before he placed two fingers between my labia found my clitoris - erect, wet, and exquisitely sensitive, and started to rub. It was wonderful, and I could see that Christopher was enjoying his work. His penis was so very hard and angry looking, and I longed to hold it in my hand. I hesitated slightly and Christopher seemed to sense this.

"Hold him in your hand near the tip and pull the foreskin up and down slowly."

I reached across, held him, and pulled the foreskin down, and saw his swollen mushroom appear. Then I rubbed him, slowly moving my tiny hand up and down his swollen shaft, and watched the tip appear and disappear.

Whilst I was wanking him, he had placed a hand under my bum as he continued to work my clit, and my passion grew and grew.

Eventually, I could wait no longer.

"Put it in me," I pleaded. "Put it in me now."

He rolled between my wide-spread thighs and supported his body weight on his elbows. My head was against his chest, and I could smell his manliness. I felt his penis-head nudge against my sex and slide between my lips before pushing slowly against me. I was dripping, but his prick was thick and long, and the fit was tight as he slowly stretched me and slid inside. I had never felt so full when Dingh tried to fuck me. His peanut barely touched the sides.

At that moment I was not thinking of Dingh. All there was in my universe was Christopher's penis, the overwhelming pleasure in my cunt and clitoris, and my desperate need.

Then he started to properly fuck me. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, he moved up and down, my cunt muscles gripping him tightly as he moved. He was a human jackhammer as he relentlessly pounded away at me.

I could hear the bed creaking and banging against the wall, and the peculiar noise of penis slurping on pussy, when I heard myself start to moan and entreat him to fuck me harder and faster.