Jasmine arrived on time on a Saturday night, showing I thought she showed a mixture of lust and nervousness. Her favourite gin and tonic, with not too much gin and plenty of tonic, went down very well. Jasmine was afraid and shook a little as I held her.
“What’s wrong Jasmine?” I asked.
Jasmine nervously replied, “Janet, what are you going to do to me? You know that I’m in your debt and you can do almost what you like, but please don’t go too far.”
So that was the problem! I sat her on the couch squeezing her hand and said, “I promise to be careful, remember, I’m a girl too and I know what a caning feels like. You are a treasure, and I must take care of you.”
Jasmine went on, “Last week it was wonderful, but please don’t think you can do anything you want. I’m only a girl and there’s a limit to what I can handle. Talking with my aunt about things I’ve done, she warned me not to go too far. She told me that someone hurt her during a caning by getting carried away. She said I should talk to you before we did anything else.”
I hugged her and said, “I just did what seemed natural. Let’s talk through anything we plan to do tonight.”
She squeezed my hand. “Yes,” she said, “That’s what I want. It caused me enormous arousal when you whipped me with that belt last week. But it hurt a lot and afterwards, if I had not been feeling so sexy, it might have been too much. So let’s be careful, please.”
It was a timely warning not to be ignored.
“What else did your aunt tell you?” I asked.
Jasmine thought for a moment, bit her lip, and then replied, “She told me she sometimes whips her boyfriend. Afterwards, he whips her. I want to try being whipped because I think I may have quite a high pain threshold.”
“My mum told me I didn’t cry much when I fell over as a little girl and I didn’t cry very much after my dad’s canings, although they were agonising.”
My mouth dropped open in amazement and I said, “Jasmine, I can sort that out for you if it’s what you want.”
She lowered her eyes just a little modestly but replied, “I expect you might have to get a whip, but I do want to try it!”
I replied, “Jasmine, I’ve got a little whip and a few canes. Would you like to see them?” I said.
This time, it was Jasmine’s turn to be surprised.
She said, “You have been quick. Let me see them, please!”
I brought them from their hiding place in the bedroom. Jasmine looked apprehensively at the whip, fingering its tapering tip, but was less concerned at the sight of the canes.
She said, “That little thin one looks similar to the one they used on us in the classroom, but those two thicker ones look more like the cane that my headteacher used on me. But none of them looks as long and as thick as the one my dad used!”
She kept fingering the end of the whip, still looking nervous. I gently took it away from her and put it back in the cupboard in the bedroom.
She followed me in and said, “You promise not to beat me with the whip unless I ask you?”
“Sure,” I said, “We need to talk it through. Now, are you hungry? I can feed you here if you are?”
“Janet,” she said, “I ate at midday. My aunt told me love-making is better on an empty stomach!”
She put her arms around me, and the clouds cleared away as we hugged and kissed, then helped each other to undress. In the bathroom, I opened her legs as she peed, which she still didn’t like, but seemed to have resigned herself to it.
Jasmine said, “Help me clean up please Janet,” as she sat on the bidet. Afterwards, we showered together and ended up back in the bedroom.
Jasmine giggled. I said, “Do you want to be tied up?”
“No,” she replied, “Not yet.”
With her up on her knees, bum in the air, I went down on her from behind. I had hidden one of the thin canes under the bed, where I could grab it in a hurry.
“Can you take a couple of stings with the cane?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, hurry,” she moaned.
Giving her a couple of medium-strength, quick cane strokes, Jasmine made convulsive jerks and little yelps. I immediately went down on her again. Little welts rose on her bum.
Jasmine’s arousal was obvious as she started dripping. “How was that?” I asked,
“Give me a couple more and a little harder,” she breathed.
This time, she collapsed onto the bed and rubbed briefly at her bum before getting back onto her knees and I gave her more oral attention.
I asked, “Was that OK?”
“It stung, but it feels great afterwards,” was the satisfied reply.
“Janet,” she said, “Give me a couple more please.”
I brought her close to the brink with my tongue, withdrew, and then landed two more strokes, the last one with greater force, getting a bit of a yell out of Jasmine. “Ow.”
“Jasmine,” I said, “Will you accept a ‘six of the best’ caning as a punishment for your naughty activities at work, please?”
Jasmine looked me in the eye and replied, “Yes, I deserve it, but please don’t break the skin. Please, will you take care of me afterwards?”
This was more ‘symbolic’, but I thought Jasmine should know that my actions had a serious as well as an erotic side to them.
I used the medium-sized cane and gave her six medium-strength strokes, with thirty seconds between strokes. Jasmine jerked and yelped with each stroke.
In a tone of mock severity, I said, on completion of her ‘punishment,’ “Do you feel you have paid for your wickedness? Now is the time to request more strokes if you feel you need them.”
Jasmine was rubbing at her bottom, but she said, “I know I was a bad girl and I’m in your debt. You could have ruined my life, but you did not. Your natural approach is wonderful. Yes, I deserve six more strokes, please.”
Jasmine lowered her head and pushed her bottom out, staring straight ahead. I gave her six more strokes. I was naughty and gave her the last stroke at an angle to the rest and a little harder. Jasmine gave a frantic squeal, lay down on her tummy and rubbed frantically at her welted bum.
Allowing her to recover for a few minutes, I said, “You have paid the price for your naughtiness. We will never mention it again. You are very brave and a tribute to your parents.”
Jasmine burst into tears and lay there, sobbing her heart out. She needed the release. I sat on the bed and she put her head in my lap. Jasmine was shaking with sobs, but she steadily calmed herself. I carefully massaged the cane marks. It took about fifteen minutes before Jasmine was back to normal.
Jasmine said, “Please go down on me. The caning has made me so horny, please!”
I went down on her, still rubbing her marks. It turned me on doing it and I was desperate for my relief. Jasmine had one more orgasm. We were on the bed together.
As Jasmine recovered, I said, “Let me clean myself up. It’s my turn at last.”
Jasmine followed me into the bathroom. Needing a pee, I sat on the loo with my legs wide apart so Jasmine could get a good look, then I squatted on the bidet, ran the water and Jasmine got down beside me.
Hoping Jasmine would get the hint, I hoped she would help to wash me without a request. Jasmine granted my reward. She shyly soaped my vulva and finally washed my bottom. Afterwards, she helped me to dry.
I sat on the edge of the bath with my legs apart. Jasmine kneeled in front of me and kissed my clitoris. It was heavenly. Balancing on the edge of the bath was difficult when waves of pleasure swept over me. We soon went back into the bedroom. Jasmine proved herself an expert at oral sex and gave me two massive orgasms.
Small tears oozed out of my eyes, and we clung to each other. We gently fondled each other, kissed each other’s breasts, and had a lovely relaxing time together.
Jasmine said, “Get the whip now and give me a few gentle strokes. I want to feel what it is like.”
Getting the whip out of the cupboard, I said, “I will give you a couple of cuts across your bottom first and you can compare it with the cane.”
I stood back to one side of the bed and flicked the whip fairly gently onto her bottom. The tip landed with a sharp little “crack” and Jasmine jerked.
The next stroke carried a little more force. Jasmine yelped and grabbed at her bum. I gave her a few seconds to think about it and said, “How does it compare?”
Jasmine said, “It’s similar, but perhaps just a little more intense than the cane. If you did it hard, it would sting terribly.”
She looked round at me, eyes wide open, and said softly, “Janet, give me a couple of hard strokes, please. I deserve it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked gently,
“Yes,” she replied quietly but firmly, “But two only.”
Taking careful aim, I swung the whip back over my shoulder and brought it cracking down with some force. Jasmine went rigid and then writhed about, letting out a series of high-pitched squeals and rubbing frantically at her bottom.
I let her regain her composure and looked at the result. A deep red welt ran across both cheeks of her bottom. It had curled around a bit, but it had not broken the skin nor appeared to be near to having done so.
I needed to move back a little. I didn’t want it to wrap around. “Are you ready?” I asked.
She nodded her head. I saw her elevate her bottom, gripping hard at the bedclothes. I thought she stood the last one well and that a modest increase in force was in order.
Cracking the whip down, with it whistling sharply through the air, it landed with a sharp SNAP across her rump. Jasmine leapt to her feet, writhing about and rubbing at her bottom, not caring what I saw.
“OWWWOWWWOWOWOWW” she howled, but not actually in tears. Eventually, she looked at me still wriggling about and gave me a little lop-sided grin.
“Janet, I feel better. That was almost too much to bear, but I know it’s doing me good.”
I got her to lie down on the bed and had a good look at the whip marks. They had formed angry-looking ridged welts that were turning purple and would certainly cause bruising. The second one looked very red and almost raw in places. It was about as hard a whipping as I could give her without breaking the skin, which would be excessive.
With more ice cubes, I went to work on the whip marks to help relieve the swelling.
She sucked her breath in sharply whenever I touched the marks, saying, “Janet, be careful, they hurt.”
I eased her shapely young rump into the air and went down on her. Jasmine made contented little moans as she shut her eyes and rotated her bum against my face. If I thought she was getting anywhere near orgasm, I gave the whip marks a hard rub and that immediately slowed things down!
Jasmine eventually said, ”Keep licking my clitoris, keep the whip ready and give me one stroke at a time to stop me coming to orgasm.”
Following her request, I got her back onto her feet with her elbows on the bed. Jasmine was close to orgasm, as I could already sense activity in her involuntary vaginal muscles.
Working on her clitoris, it was not long before Jasmine said urgently, “Give me one quickly, fairly hard.” I got her to elevate her bum and cracked home a hard whip stroke, as hard as I had given her to date.
I went back down on her whilst she was still yelping and trying to deal with it. My rapid action calmed things down instantly. Rubbing my face against her hot little rump, she moaned a bit.
I asked, “How does it feel, darling?”
Jasmine replied between sexually stimulated gasps, “The whip is agonising and the marks hurt like hell. The pain shoots right through to my clitoris and I almost explode. It’s so painful but so good too. When you rub against the marks, it hurts, but it turns me on too. OOOHHH give me another one HARD NOW!”
I got her bum in position and laid a hard stroke on her. She screamed and wiggled her arse from side to side. I got back down and carried on sucking her clitoris. She was moaning and groaning in a sort of delirium of pain and pleasure.
I looked down and could see that I was close to doing her damage, with the last welt showing the dark red beads of blood blisters just under the skin. She had taken enough on her bottom and deserved another orgasm, so this time I carried on until she almost exploded.
Jasmine crawled into the centre of the bed and lay there rubbing at the whip marks. “Janet, I’m in pain. I had a fantastic orgasm, but it hurt a lot getting it!”
I looked again at her bottom. It felt hot to the touch, so I had yet another go at her with ice cubes. Without a doubt, they help if used promptly. As I finished, Jasmine asked me if I had a mirror that she could hold close to her bottom and get a good look at the marks.
I found a small mirror and helped her to keep her legs up whilst she lay on her back and looked at it.
Jasmine said, “We mustn’t do this too often. I’m going to be marked for days,” sounding a little shocked.
Eventually, Jasmine stood up, walked stiffly, stark naked, into the kitchen and tried sitting on a moulded plywood chair. She stood up abruptly, wincing and rubbing again at her bottom.
“Oh dear,” she said, “I will have to bring a cushion to work next week. I must make sure my mum doesn’t see my bum until these fade.”
She looked at me and grinned. She wasn’t mad at me. I put my arms around her and she snuggled up against me.
“Janet, what have you done to me? I never thought I would enjoy doing this sort of thing! I’m not sure if I can take much more tonight.“ (We had been at it for about an hour and a half on and off).
“Come on,” I said, “Let’s clean you up after all that,” and led her back to the bathroom and the bidet. She squeaked a bit when the pressure came on the cane and whip marks as her bottom contacted the rim of the bidet. So I held her up under her arms to take the weight off her bottom. She washed herself, reacting strongly when the water played on her clitoris.
After a few minutes, I got her to squat over the end of the bidet with her legs apart. I picked up the thin cane again, parted her legs, and rubbed the cane against her clitoris and labia. “Ooooh Janet, you naughty girl.”
I gently swung the tip of the cane against her clitoris. She bucked and moaned as I repeated this a few times, and then I carried on with another dose of oral until she had another orgasm. Her clitoris and labia were dark red, a sure sign of arousal. I gave her one more quick wash, then helped her to stand up and dried her, taking care not to put pressure on the cane and whip marks.
Eventually, we went back to the bedroom. I gathered up the pillows and helped her to lie down on top of them in the middle of the bed with her bum in the air. I found some cold cream and softly rubbed it into the worst of her marks. Poor Jasmine squirmed about and gasped if I pressed too hard on a welt. The cane marks were less intense than the whip marks, which, if I pressed on them, produced a powerful reaction from Jasmine.
After about half an hour of soothing treatment, Jasmine got up and went over to the mirror. She turned around and admired the marks on her bum, saying, “They are not too bad, nothing like I had after my dad beat me! Janet, I trust you.” That was what I wanted to hear.
Jasmine said, “I am hungry. Is there something to eat, please?”
I had made a curry the previous evening and put it in the fridge. I got it out, warmed it up in a saucepan and put some rice on to cook. About a quarter of an hour later, it was all ready.
Jasmine came into the kitchen and stood there enveloped in a cotton wrap. “Janet, I can’t sit at the moment. You don’t mind, do you?” she said, smiling a little.
In admiration, I replied, “How could I mind? I admire your spirit and bravery!”
Jasmine tucked in and I thought this was a moment to ask her how she felt about things.
Jasmine said, “You’ve given me a terrific experience. I have had as much as I can stand at the moment. I need to get over this, and it may take a week or two.”
After she finished, she stood there, rubbing her bottom through the cloth of her wrap.
Jasmine said, “I’m tired because of all this activity. Let me have a sleep please,”
“Sure,” I replied, “You have earned it.”
Jasmine went into the bathroom, cleaned her teeth, and came back to bed.
After cleaning myself up, I joined her to find her fast asleep, lying on her tummy. I lay down beside her and soon drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.
On waking a few hours later, I heard Jasmine in the bathroom. She emerged and...
