Another first

With the training I had had recently, I was getting better and better at binding a girl in any position I wanted her in. I pretended I didn’t notice how Barbara sneaked in with us when I dragged Helen into the kitchen, and took a quiet place in the back with a good view.

I draped Helen face-down across the kitchen table, then tied her wrists and ankles to the legs of it. When I realized that her ass didn’t quite have enough focus, I took a pillow and pushed it underneath her underbelly, so it stood out even more. I did a thorough job, making sure there was as little slack in the ropes as possible, and that she would be completely immobilized for the punishment I had in mind for her.

All in all the binding took maybe ten minutes. She didn’t protest, partly because she was still dazed by the afterglow of her illegal orgasm, partly because she knew she deserved every bit of what was coming, and partly because she knew it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. And maybe, just maybe, partly because she actually enjoyed being handled this way, being tied down and ready for anything I wanted to do to her. Yeah, a lot could happen to a frigid bitch in a short amount of time, I mused.

I had never actually handled a cane before, but I had been looking forward to use it ever since I included it in the online toy order. Now I took it from the box, and let the length of it run through the palm of my hand. It was made of rattan, about three feet long, supple and springy. I felt an immense sense of power by holding it in my hand, and watching Helen’s body stretched across the table, struggling in her shackles, incoherenly uttering a weird mix of humble pleas, angry insults, and frightful cries.

“There is no point, Helen. You have been disobedient to the Rules. Illegal orgasm, that’s about the worst felony there is. You can scream all you want, but you WILL be punished.”

The sound of her whinings turned even more to desperation and misery. She could see the cane in my hand, and she recognized how her **** ass was set out to receive it. She realized the size of her crime, and that she couldn’t possibly escape her punishment.

I put the cane on her ass, just laid it down without any slap at all, across both buttocks, and let it rest there, allowing her to feel the material on her bare skin.

And then she submitted. Her body stopped struggling and her protests and pleas died down to a silent sobbing, as she resigned to the ordeal ahead. Her voice was suddenly completely clear, though on the verge of breaking nito weeping: “Then let it be. Just get on with it, get it over with. “

Which wasn’t exactly what I had planned; and right now, MY plans were the deciders, not hers. I would certainly not “get it over with”, like some anonymous procedure which happened to need to be followed. I was going to make this a memorable event, for me, for her, heck even for Barbara, who still followed every move we made with a keen and intense interest, though she didn’t utter a word.

I lifted the cane from her ass and started walking around the end of the table, left to right and back; and started tapping the cane ever so slightly on Helen’s ass, taking every possible angle towards it. I moved the impact spot as I walked around her, creating rounds around the entire area of her buttocks and upper thighs, and just started a new round when the previous one had finished. Her ass was a lovely sight, especially now that there was no more need to hide my interest for it to her and the rest of the world; I could just unabashedly feast my insolent eyes on the inviting round curves of it. She still wore the buttplug I had applied to her this morning, and the end of the handle was sticking out of her asshole, looking like an occupying flag on a conquered city. This wasn’t really her ass anymore… it was mine now.

Her breathing was heavy, but hasty and irregular, with a small yelp on many of the taps, as if her mind needed a few milliseconds to figure out if this was still mere tapping, or if the real deal had already started. Her skin chilled into goosebumps when the cane approached, then the muscles twitched when it got there. Her anxiety hovered around her body like a fog bank, damp and thick.

I gradually increased the **** of the tapping. The rattan started making cracking noises when the taps hit her tender skin now, still muted now but very clear. The impacts left a trail of pink welts behind as the cane moved on to the next area of maiden asshood. The marks still quickly dissolved into the skin again, until the cane visited the same spot on its next round, when the taps would be just a little bit harder, gradually turning into slaps, and the dissolution took just a little bit longer. After a while, the reddish weals on her skin were still there when the cane returned to the same spot on the next round. Her entire ass was a big palette of welts now, in a constantly changing pattern which followed the motion of the cane across. Behind me I heard Barbie sigh in admiration of the view.

When my little walk around her brought me in a right angle to her, so the cane could aim a horizontal strike across both buttocks, I mingled in the first real stroke. I heaved the cane a full two feet, then landed it low in an almost horizontal swing, close above the long wrinkle where the buttocks gave way to the thighs.

She howled a long wail and all her muscles convulsed as the first full blow of pain hit her. I resumed the rhythm of slaps, taking care to avoid the new, long weal which flared up across her ass in a deep red hue, much sharper than the previous ones from the tapping. I allowed her to recover for a bit, before I said: “Illegal cummings. I really don’t want to see them, wifeslut. They breach the rules, and they must be punished severely. Twenty of those are coming your way, so you best brace yourself, and contemplate the nature of your sin. “

After that first big blow, I continued slapping her ass softly with the cane for a minute. Helen’s wails died down into a jerky sobbing, but burst into full volume again when I administered the second blow, four inches above the first, then the third, another four inches above that.

I stepped back, took a sip of water, and inspected my handiwork. The three welts ran across both buttocks almost perfectly in parallel, but the top ones were bright red, while the bottom one had already started tarnishing into a dark purple. I stopped the tapping between the strokes, and concentrated fully on aiming and delivering my next blow. The back of her thighs was my target now. I found it was pretty hard to hit both legs in tandem on a single stroke, and was a bit chagrined to see that the same stroke left a different shade of marking on each leg. The difference couldn’t be heard in her wails, which were as vigorous as before, but I felt the need to improve on it, so I aimed for the thighs again. The fifth stroke was slightly better, and the sixth seemed perfect: it looked like a single weal, only broken by the space between her legs. I delivered two more strokes to her thighs, just to make sure I really mastered the technique, then moved up again.

It was Barbara who interrupted me, saying: “Do you see what I’m seeing?”

I paused to check what she meant. Her eyes were fixed on Helen’s pussy, squashed between her legs in her bent position. And I saw what Barbara meant. Helen was dripping. Literally. This wasn’t some cunt juice left from her previous session, the one which had made her cum; this juice was obviously fresh. While Barbara and me watched in amazement, several drops of it started running in drops down the inside of her legs. Her sobbing and wailing hadn’t diminished in any way, and she was clearly in the agony - yet her crotch sent an entirely different message. She wasn’t just getting aroused, she was developing a mother of a horny storm between her legs. If this was possible now… how bad had I known my wife for all those years!?