Introduction to the cane...

Caning.

Oh, we thought about caning. He felt like it was too violent and for me, the stories sort of scared me. You could do damage with those things!

But as we delved deeper into the seduction of erotic pain, of testing my endurance and willingness, caning began to seduce me too. I found myself gravitating towards shoots that including caning shots, pictures that showed caning welts. Stories about being caned.

I read articles about safe caning. About how it felt and where you can and where you shouldn’t cane.

Slowly, it crept into my fantasies.

When I finally mentioned that I might sort of kind of possibly but not really only maybe be interested in trying a cane out, I was surprised at his enthusiasm. Somewhere along the way he had changed his mind too.  I stashed away some funds in paypal here and there and researched, researched, researched. I posted to get recommendations on a good place to get quality canes at affordable prices and asked people’s opinions on which canes they liked and why.

I settled on two. One rattan, one delrin. One long and really thin (the rattan) and one thicker and shorter (the delrin, an OTK cane).

They sat in my cart for days as I danced with my inner demons. Could I, should I, would I buy a cane? Or two canes? In and out of my cart they went, and back in. Caning looked intense. Could I tolerate the sensation? What if I hated it?

…could I tolerate never finding out?

I began checking out and was sort of shocked at my boldness. I was ordering a cane. So that my husband could beat me with it.

And once I ordered it, I promptly shut it out of mind. Me? Order a cane? Nope!

…but it came in the mail, a rather intimidatingly large package, particularly when I knew exactly what the contents were.

Before I gave them to my husband, I tested them on myself. I was excited, and wanted to know if it was a sensation I liked before allowing him to ramp it up. The long thin rattan one was tough to control in such close range, and left remarkable welts on my left thigh that lasted well past a few days. It stung, and I liked it, a lot, but I knew that it was a lot more dangerous because it was very flexible and would be harder to aim with.

The delrin one…mmm. Embarrassingly, I left myself almost immediately with a rather large and obvious bruise on my right inner thigh. Oops! It was thick enough to not sting nearly as much as the rattan cane, but thin enough that the impact was much more focused than anything we’ve tried before. It was shorter too, which made it a lot less flexible and thus easier to control. It stung more than anything else we’d done and…I was excited. Despite the chagrin of marking my own thigh, I had a feeling this was going to be something we’d enjoy.

When he came home, hiding behind false bravado, I handed him the canes – butterflies fluttering futilely in my tummy. I was so nervous, although I wasn’t going to show it. I was handing him instruments that both terrified me and aroused me…a strange, strange combination. I had the gall to lecture him that he needed to read cane safety before I let him use the rattan one on me  - I got an interesting smirk in response, because it was one of those “Duh, Ekho!” type things that I couldn’t quite believe came out of my mouth. I’m going to blame my cheekiness on nerves, because the delrin cane, I graciously allowed (haha) was close enough to other things we’d been doing that I thought he could handle it.

Definitely nerves. Though in my defense, we have not done a lot with submission, much as I’d like to – only bottoming and topping. We’re only starting explore what my submission would mean for us, but it felt impertinent anyway. Couldn’t help myself though - fearexcitementnerves type thing.

Immediately that night, he told me to put my corset on and return quickly.

When I came out, he settled me into a new position on the count – almost like prayer, with me on my knees, forehead pressed to the couch and arms stretched out in front of me. The result: My ass in the air, the rest of me stretched out in a way that’s not uncomfortable, but totally…vulnerable feeling. Different.

When the first blow fell, I knew he’d pulled out the cane and I was shocked. I don’t know – I guess I thought he’d start with hands? Wait on the cane? I don’t know. The first one fell and it was…indescribable. It wasn’t a line of fire, but this incredible stinging flare…OW!  He kept it paced nicely, but with the position I was in I could never tell when the next blow would fall. My butt, my thighs, my upper back, the soles of my feet? It was never so intense that I felt like it should stop or slow down or even considered my safe word, but to be honest I was so turned on and lost that time … well, I had no idea how much time had passed. Intermittently he took me from behind, where I tried to beg to be allowed to come (damn orgasm restriction – speaking was so hard, I was all but beyond being able to verbalize, but I tried!) with no dice. I remember hearing rough breathing and realizing it was mine, and I remember the incredible soreness as his hips slammed into my ass as he fucked me..time was really blurry.

When he finally came and granted me permission to come, it was almost painful it was so intense…I was so ready. Afterwards I collapsed on the couch, beyond speech. Hazy.

What’s strange is the beating wasn’t even that hard. I don’t know. I’ve had worse spankings. In terms of bruising, I had a nasty one coming up on the outside of my left thigh. I had some lovely pink welts across my ass and on my back. I knew there were small bruises, but…I’ve had harder beatings and bigger welts and bruises.

He told me afterwards it was hard to get used to how much less force the cane needed, and my reaction was pretty strong to even soft blows…he thought I was going to safeword and responded by softening things even more. He said my ass turned pink incredibly fast.

I don’t remember ever being close to wanting or needing it to stop, I just remember the intense sexual energy and contrasting lethargy that made me not want to move at all. Did I wiggle away from blows or arch my butt higher to receive them? I don’t know, but that orgasm was…intense.

And the aftermath? The next morning, the bruise on the outside of my thigh was pretty wicked, but on my butt, there were only a scattered smattering of tiny bruises – my guess is from the tip of the cane.

Not so scary afterall, other than for the fact that I know he took it very, very easy on me….