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The soft pink flesh awaits. Exposed, bare, warm. The bottom is unmarked, two blemish-free buttocks pointing upward, the body bent over the leather caning bench in the punishment room. White knickers are pulled down and stretch across the long slim legs, halfway down the thighs. The woman is taking short shallow breaths. She is nervous.
Enter the Mistress. As she walks into the room, she swishes the cane through the air. The woman takes a short sharp breath. The Mistress surveys the scene. She sees the woman.
She sees the bare bottom. She sees wisps of dark hair between the woman’s legs. She puts her leather-gloved hand on the woman’s back, and runs a finger down to her bottom. She gently runs her hand over the flesh of the woman’s buttocks. The woman moans.
‘Now then,’ says the Mistress sternly.
She takes a step back. She reaches out her arm, and lays the end of the cane on the woman’s buttocks. She readjusts her footing, tapping the woman’s bottom as she does. The woman tries to look round. She can see black thigh-length leather boots…skin tight cream-coloured jodhpurs…a white blouse. An arm in black gloves holding a cane with a crooked handle. She pulls her arms but the ropes hold her tight. She drops her head.
‘This is going to hurt,’ says the Mistress.
A moment goes by. Silence. The woman is holding her breath. She is only aware of the room, the floor she is looking at, wooden parquet flooring, quite new by the look of it. She is aware of the ropes biting into her wrists and her ankles, of how she feels exposed, totally naked, with her bottom in the air. She feels cool air between her legs, suggesting that her vagina is exposed to view. Her anus too. She doesn’t think. She is just there, present. She is emotional, about to cry. But she knows something worse is about to happen to her.
She hears the cane stroke just as it lands. It is like it all happens at once. The swish, the loud crack, the searing pain that explodes like a star-burst in her mind. Her body immediately tenses and jerks against the bonds holding her. There is nothing she can do to escape. The pain of the stroke enters her body, hardest and most urgent across her bottom where the cane strikes, but then it moves into her genitals, and through her anus, then up into her stomach and with a wave it surges up her body, along her back, her shoulders, into her neck and then up, deep, into her brain. She screams out, involuntarily. Her body doesn’t know what else to do.
The Mistress watches the cane land. She sees a red line appear across both buttocks. She hears the scream of pain. She sees the woman fight against the ropes holding her. She lifts the cane back, raises it again, and pauses to decide where to strike next. She smiles.
‘Cane stroke’ is an extract from Alex England Shorts – Erotic Moments (Vols 1,2 and 3)
© Alex England 2015
Alex England is writer of erotica and divides his time between Australia and the UK. He has published two series of short stories – I’d Rather Be Fucking Vols 1,2 and 3; and Alex England Shorts – Erotic Moments Vols 1,2, and 3. He is currently working on a novel.