Mathiu pushed open the door and, at once, heard his boyfriend Dani jump to his feet.

“Hey!” Dani flung his arms around Mathiu for a hug.

“Hi!
 “So…what was it like? I’ve been dying here, thinking of you!”

Mathiu shook his head and rubbed his bottom.

“More painful than I expected!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come on, I want to see what it looks like.”

They went up to the bedroom and Mathiu gingerly lowered his trousers and underpants. He winced as the cloth dragged across the wounds that the cane had made.

“Wow, he really laid into you!”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, lie down. I’ll rub some ointment on, and you can tell me about it.”

Mathiu pulled off his shirt and lay face down on the bed. It had been quite a day. He had taken up Dani’s offer of a session with a professional master for his birthday.

Mathiu had kept his interest in corporal punishment from his previous boyfriend. But, with Dani, he had been able to open up and share his fantasy, which he had held since his earliest adolescence. They’d tried spanking, but something about it didn’t satisfy Mathiu. He wanted more, and he had read that a proper caning should only be administered by an experienced master. Dani had surprised him with a one-hour, seventy-euro session.

“So, how was it?” Dani asked, “Tell me everything.”

Mathiu felt a cold liquid on his sore bottom. Dani was rubbing it gently.

“Well, I knocked on the door. The master opened. He was tall and thin. He was about fifty years old and he had grey hair. He shook my hand and explained that the session would start in ten minutes. First, he told me the ground rules. We’d agreed in emails that I would receive six of the best, but more strokes could be added for non-compliance, you know, standing before the punishment is over, trying to rub or swearing. He told me a safe word that would mean I didn’t want more.

Then, he told me to change into a set of pyjamas and knock on the door of his study when I was ready. The pyjamas, he provided them, were blue and white and seemed to be brand new.  

I took them to the bathroom and changed. I was really nervous now. My hands were shaking. My heart rate was through the roof, Dani, I swear!

Trembling, I went to the door. I knocked on the door.

“Enter!”

The guy’s voice was loud and authoritative. He sounded like a headmaster.

“Marquez. Here,” and the master indicated a spot by the desk.

There was a desk and a leather armchair. It really did look like a headmaster’s study.

“Get those pyjama trousers down, boy,” the master barked. I lowered my pyjamas. My erection popped up immediately. The master went over and picked up a cane from a choice of four. He swished it through the air.

“Six of the best for you.”

I stared at the cane, suddenly afraid. He wasn’t messing around. He looked like he was planning to flog me, hard.

“Bend over. Grasp the other side of the desk and hold tight. You are about to learn a very painful lesson.”

My bottom stretched tight when I leant over the desk. It was exciting, scary, and hot, all at the same time. I told you; I’d thought about this since I was old enough to get hard. Well, it was certainly hard!

The master took up his stance behind me and tapped my bottom, lightly, three times with the cane, then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, his arm swinging upwards. Two seconds later, I felt the cane hit me. A second later, the pain made itself felt. Ow! It was like I’d been bitten by a dog. I gripped the desk hard.

His arm swung back again. The force of the blow threw me forward and I bit my tongue, which hurt. But it was nothing to the kind of pain my bottom was in, now I’d had two strokes. The master had landed the second stroke almost exactly where the first had landed.

“Enjoying yourself there, boy?”

“No, sir,” and my voice trembled as I spoke. This, if ever there was one, was a half-truth.

I closed my eyes. I gripped the desk, awaiting the third stroke. It was…or felt like…the hardest one yet. I could feel a line of pain run across my buttocks as if hot curling tongs had been pressed to it.

My dick was so hard. I wanted to reach down and jerk. But I couldn’t let go of the desk. I’d already decided that six would be more than enough. The fourth stroke hit me and, this time, the pain was such that I yelped.

“You’re feeling that, aren’t you boy?”

“Yes, sir,” I stammered.

“Two more.”

There was a brief pause, then he raised his arm again. Crack!

“Ow! Ow!” I yelped. The cane had struck me where the flesh was already bruised and wounded, and the exposed nerve endings beneath the broken skin had been cut into. It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced. For the first time, my erection dwindled a little. It was just too painful back there to think about sex.

The sixth stroke seemed to take an age to come. I think the master was a masochist. He was prolonging it, enjoying my suffering. I felt the air blowing around my throbbing backside, and this restored my hard-on.

At last, the cane smashed into my bottom again, and the pain flared up again back there, worse than ever. There were tears in my eyes, I admit it.

“Stand up.”

I did so.

“Get dressed.”

I pulled my trousers up and over my erection, which felt like it was about to burst.

“The bathroom is through there. Now, get out!”

I limped across the room, clutching my burning buttocks. I went into the bathroom and jerked off, hard. I came within thirty seconds into the toilet bowl.

When I was dressed again, I went out and thanked the master. He couldn’t have been friendlier now! He asked if it had been as I had expected it. I told him it had been much more painful than expected, but I was glad I’d tried it. We shook hands and I left. I could not, really, seriously could not sit down on the metro though! It hurt far too much.”

Dani laughed and slapped Mathiu’s butt cheek.

“Ow!”

“Ha! I think I can make you feel better, sweetheart.”

Dani rolled Mathiu over and worked his erection up with his hands. When he was hard, Dani knelt and sucked his partner gently, layering his saliva across the tip of his cock, then pulling firmly with his jaw.

When he had come, Mathiu dozed off.

In his dreams, he saw the imposing master standing above him. Mathiu was naked and bent over the desk, at his mercy again. The master was rubbing his bare buttocks, laughing and admiring the stripes that the cane had drawn in fire and blood across Mathiu’s bottom.