I was caned at school and I still feel the need to be caned occasionally. I now have a 'headmaster' and when I feel I deserve the cane, I ring him up and make an appointment. I'm still always very nervous and apprehensive when I knock on his door. I tell him my offence and he decides how many strokes I will receive. He has three straight backed dining chairs. He places two side by side and the third behind them back to back. As he goes to fetch the cane, I strip off, except for my tee shirt and underpants, and stand by the chairs with my hands on my head. He checks the cane by flexing and then swishing it. He is an expert with the cane which is like an extension of his arm and he can place each stroke with great accuracy. He then gives me a short lecture explaining why I'm going to be caned. I can feel my heart pounding.
He then pulls down my underpants and gives my bottom a slap. I feel very exposed and vulnerable and I can sense him looking at my bottom which is going to be completely at his mercy. He orders me over the chairs and I step out of my underpants and put one knee on the seat of each of the two chairs which are side by side and then bend over placing my elbows on the seat of the third chair at the back. In this position my knees are wide apart and my bare bottom is stretched and high in the air - perfect for caning. My head is low down and it is not easy to get up or even move. I am now prepared and ready to be caned. I quite enjoy the anticipation of a caning and I usually get the beginning of an erection at this point.
He takes up his position and taps my bottom several times with the cane. He warns me: "Do not move until I have finished caning you. Are you ready?" I reply: "Yes," but I think to myself "Oh no! This is it, I'm going to be caned. But I deserve it. I've got to take it." I grit my teeth and shut my eyes hard although this doesn't really help. I sense the cane being drawn back for the first stroke. I bite my lip so I won't cry out. There's an agonisingly long expectant pause before I hear that terrifying hum of the cane which gives me a split second warning that it is about to lash into my bare waiting bottom. I hear a sharp crack almost before I feel the pain. At first the pain is like the worst penetrating sting you can imagine but then to your horror the pain increases in intensity to a fierce burning sensation and it feels as though your bottom has been branded with a white hot poker. It's a unique and unforgettable sensation.
As the pain subsides a little, the second stroke arrives. This builds on the pain from the first stroke and is even more painful. As the caning continues each stroke is worse than the last. I can usually remain quiet for the first three strokes but, with the pain building and building, I have to cry out at the fourth and each succeeding stroke, louder and louder as the punishment continues. Crying out is the only relief a person being caned is allowed and it does help quite a lot.
When he has finished caning me, I blurt out "thank you, thank you" - meaning thank heavens it's all over. I remain bent over as he puts the cane away. My bottom is burning and throbbing and feels swollen but as the pain eases a little I begin to feel slightly aroused and sometimes get another erection. When I have recovered enough, I stand up and get dressed. My headmaster congratulates me on taking the punishment and I shake his hand and go home.
The next day, my bottom is still hot and sore and in the following days it feels tender and itchy before finally recovering. Then I wonder how long it will be before I'll need to be caned again.