Good old fashion caning

A swishing sound broke my internal monologue as a cane cut into my backside. I say cut, because it wasn’t a stroke or hit. The rattan cane, that seemed more proper for judicial punishment of prisoners than for young students, left a bleeding welt that had me screaming my lungs out. A timid little voice that arguably sounded like mine spoke aloud “One, thank you Master.”

Where the hell did that come from? I was almost out of breath. The last thing on my mind was speaking, let alone thanking the sick wanker for flogging my arse with a cane like he was a glorified deity!

Another whack made me, the desk, and in my world the floor, lurch several inches forward. Tears were streaming down my cheeks unchecked by now. “Two, thank you Master” my entire body jolted back and forth with each blow. Shuddering and convulse in pain as he continued raining down five more blows on me, I only remember the exact number because I counted them aloud, each time with the specified title that seemed to burn into my memory. Master.

“Stand up” oh you’ve got to be kidding me!

I ambled to my feet, unsteadily.

“Kneel” pointing in front of him like I was some dog learning to come to heel.

And just like a stupid mutt, I walked over and, I admit this one time, gratefully fell on my shaky knees without thinking more to it. Tears still rolling down my cheeks, framing my new face in its own macabre manner that Toshis cock obviously seemed to find intoxicating.

“Look at the mirror” being right in front of me, I would probably have noticed sooner rather than later even if he hadn’t been all bossy about it. I looked at the appalled face of a woman kneeling, legs splayed impossibly wide apart, both hands holding the rim of my red skirt up - lewdly displaying my moist pussy to Toshi and my own reflection. Despite myself, despite the burning pain I felt in my rear, I felt impossibly ashamed of the unmistakable feelings in my loins. This lifting my skirt thing wasn’t part of his order, was it? It sure as hell wasn’t my idea! Perhaps the programming really was as extensive as he boasted.

‘What IS going on here? I don’t like this, this is NOT me!”