As he admonished me for my misdeeds, I wondered what punishment I would be given. He sounded very severe so I had to assume the worst - the cane. He came to the end of his lecture and I knew by his tone what my sentence would be before he finally said: "I'm going to beat you. Take off your trousers and underpants and lift up your shirt."
My hands dropped to my belt and I started unfastening my trousers. I took them off and then my underpants. He was watching me intently the whole time. I lifted my shirt at the front and back as instructed. He walked round behind me to inspect my bottom and then stood in front of me. Like many boys in this position I had a semi-erection. Standing exposing myself with the thought that he was about to commit a physical act on me, I couldn't help myself. He looked pleased and smiled and said: "I don't think you're going to enjoy yourself."
He placed a cushion on the desk and told me to bend over. I bent over the desk and held on the the far edge with both hands. The cushion under my hips made me more comfortable but it was there to lift and position my bare bottom so that it was a well presented target for the cane. I could hear the canes rattling as he chose a suitable one. I like having a welted bottom but the caning itself is agonising. I would just have to make the best of it. I wriggled my hips on the cushion to settle myself and took a tighter grip on the desk edge.
He had selected a cane and was now testing it by swishing it through the air. My bottom twitched in anticipation and I stared ahead as I couldn't bear to look at the cane which was going to thrash me.
What is it like to be caned? The bare bottom is ideal for the application of corporal punishment. It is a large, convenient target and there is little danger of permanent injury. It is also very sensitive to pain. A spank with a slipper can cause a very painful sting. The cane has a whip-like action. At the beginning of the stroke, the cane bends backwards and at the end of the stroke it accelerates forwards and is moving faster than a rigid rod would. Imagine a thin, whippy cane applied with full force slicing into an unprotected bottom. The pain builds up with each stroke and eventually seems to spread throughout your body.
I quite enjoy the preliminiaries to a caning. He took up his position behind me and to my left and tapped and stroked my bottom with the cane. I heard him say, "Not bad." I have been told more than once that I have a nice bum so I am quite proud to display it. I get strange stirrings of guilty excitement which I try to enjoy before the pain starts.
He was in no hurry to begin. I imagined he would be admiring my bottom as he worked out the number of strokes and where to lay them on. All bottoms are different. Small thin bottoms suffer the most under the cane whereas large plump ones can absorb more punishment and therefore usually receive more strokes. Three was the minimum number of strokes going up to about twelve. My bottom was about average size.
Eventually he said: "I'm going to give you six strokes. Keep completely still." There was a firm tap of the cane across the centre of my bottom and then a swish gave me a split second warning of the arrival of the first stroke. The first stroke feels as though you have been cut open and blood is pouring out. However this is just part of the excruciating sensation of being caned and blood is not normally drawn.
He allowed time for the pain to build and start to subside before applying the second stroke. Another swish and then a line of fire exploded across by bottom just below the cleavage. This was a saddle stroke and began throbbing immediately.
I guessed the next stroke would be a crease stroke, just between the underbottom and the tops of the legs. This is the most sensitive part of the bottom and therefore the most painful. I gripped the desk even tighter as I heard the swish. Sure enough, the cane sliced into the crease of my already hot and burning bottom with savage effect. The pain was unbearable as it coursed through my bottom and spread out to my body. I screamed in agony and twisted my bottom in a vain attempt to relieve just a little of the pain. "Keep still!" he said. He sounded pleased and was no doubt enjoying watching me writhe as the cane cracked across my unprotected, sensitive bottom leaving a vivid red, double-ridged welt.
I was now half way through the caning. This was a bad time. My bottom felt as though it was on fire and so painful that I couldn't bear the thought of it being touched yet alone being caned three more times.
I tried to clench my buttocks but couldn't because of the bending position. As I realised there was no hope of escape and the pain was getting worse with each stroke, I felt completely alone and helpless and began to feel like crying.
The fourth stroke caught me by surprise but my bottom felt so painful and swollen that I couldn't tell where the cane had landed. There was another large increment in the pain level. I could feel tears in my eyes but was determined not to blub.
He was preparing the fifth stroke. My bottom was blazing and my whole body was tingling. I was sweating and breathing heavily as I tried to fight my way through the pain overload.
Swish....crack! I was taken to a pain level that you cannot image. The intensity was unbelieveable. I wanted to stand up and grab my bottom but I knew I would get extra strokes if I did. I only had one to go, so somehow against all my instincts I managed to hold on to the desk and stay in position. My only relief was to cry out and this did help a little.
Swish....crack! The last one. My whole body now seemed wracked with pain and my bottom felt as though it had been cut to ribbons. I had to scream out again. I let go of the edge of the desk but remained slumped over it panting hard and in some distress. I daren't move until told.
I heard him walk round behind me to view his handiwork. What had been a white unmarked bottom a few minutes ago was now covered with a pattern of angry welts.
"Very good." He seemed pleased with himself. "You may get up and get dressed. Do not touch your bottom." To prolong the punishment, we were forbidden to rub our bottoms although I was longing to do so. I would have to wait until I got back to my room. However as I pulled my underpants up, I surreptiously ran my fingers over the welts. They felt very hot and swollen and would be excellent trophies once the pain subsided.
I had carefully pulled my trousers up and adjusted my clothes. I noticed he had a large bulge in his trousers. He had obviously enjoyed caning me. I was dismissed. My bottom was stinging and throbbing and at first it was painful to walk. When I got back to my room I had a good long rubbing session and then examined my bottom in the mirror. I had a fine set of welts, evenly spaced from the cleavage to the crease and all horizontal. He had caned me well and as I studied them I got a very strong erection. My bottom continued to blaze for the rest of the day. When I woke up the next morning it was still very sore but eventually became a warm and not unpleasant glow. I continued to enjoy my welts as they turned from red to blue then black and then faded to yellow bruises over the next few days. In fact, it was nearly two weeks before they disappeared altogether. However, it would not be long before I had a new set.