«-Now, Mara, I want you to count and claim each stroke of the cane, do you understand girl? -Please, Daddy, can I have the first cut on my bare, striped ass?
He answered me with his cane, a sharp retort that stung me like a dozen wasps in the ass. I drew in my breath and let it out slowly, fighting for control. Mastercane was an expert at caning.
"One. Thank you, Daddy. Can I have the second please?"
Thwick! The cane bit me and I flinched. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was distinct. After a few seconds, the pain was gone and I could breathe again. I wouldn't be comfortable for a while after this!
Thwick! Thwick! Thwick! the cane came. It stung me again and again. Each stroke was meant to sting a fresh spot. Tears welled up in my eyes and I squirmed in my chair. My breathing was labored and hard to count. "T-twenty-three, Daddy. Thank you. Can I please have another?" Thwick! My erection was massive, I had to do something. I can't describe the horror of those hours in that chair. The time was endless. I gritted my teeth and held my position with all my strength and will and prayed constantly for the punishment to end. It was slow and laborious, the only sounds of my labored breathing, the gentle movement of the cane and my weak satisfaction and "Can I have another?" Mastercane was cutting the teenage buttocks with thirst. He must stop whipping for the moment, Mara made some inhuman sounds It wasn't the pain that made it so awful, it was the resistance. I was forced to participate in my punishment and it broke me. By the end I was crying, tears streaming down my face. It seemed too good to be true that it was over, but I couldn't stop crying. Daddy stopped beating me. And it was only 1 p.m. I stayed in position until another order. Now in the corner with my hands on my head for an hour. And no rubbing, you understand girl? .By Mastercane»
«-Now, Mara, I want you to count and claim each stroke of the cane, do you understand girl?
-Please, Daddy, can I have the first cut on my bare, striped ass?
He answered me with his cane, a sharp retort that stung me like a dozen wasps in the ass. I drew in my breath and let it out slowly, fighting for control. Mastercane was an expert at caning.
"One. Thank you, Daddy. Can I have the second please?"
Thwick! The cane bit me and I flinched. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was distinct. After a few seconds, the pain was gone and I could breathe again. I wouldn't be comfortable for a while after this!
Thwick! Thwick! Thwick! the cane came. It stung me again and again. Each stroke was meant to sting a fresh spot. Tears welled up in my eyes and I squirmed in my chair. My breathing was labored and hard to count. "T-twenty-three, Daddy. Thank you. Can I please have another?" Thwick!
My erection was massive, I had to do something.
I can't describe the horror of those hours in that chair. The time was endless. I gritted my teeth and held my position with all my strength and will and prayed constantly for the punishment to end. It was slow and laborious, the only sounds of my labored breathing, the gentle movement of the cane and my weak satisfaction and "Can I have another?"
Mastercane was cutting the teenage buttocks with thirst. He must stop whipping for the moment, Mara made some inhuman sounds
It wasn't the pain that made it so awful, it was the resistance. I was forced to participate in my punishment and it broke me. By the end I was crying, tears streaming down my face. It seemed too good to be true that it was over, but I couldn't stop crying. Daddy stopped beating me. And it was only 1 p.m.
I stayed in position until another order. Now in the corner with my hands on my head for an hour. And no rubbing, you understand girl?
.By Mastercane»