Friday 13 August 2010

Needy

I need to be dominated. I need to be bent over, to be caned, to be made to stay in position. To take the strokes, slowly but surely. To know that there will be no turning back, no matter how much I whinge and whine, but that it will be done in such a way that I will make it through. I need to release.
I really, really, need to be caned "properly".

That is all.

3 comments:

Abel1234 said...

Oh, how I wish I was in the UK right now...

SoundPunishment said...

I AM in the UK :-)

I really enjoy applying a cane to a girl's best advantage and enjoyment. I would love to cane you.

If you ever consider filming that scenario for SoundPunishment.com then please let me know!

Anonymous said...

I hope that you are not too particular the cane as such. I know that many regard it as the classic instrument of domination and pain. But I have forsaken it in favour of the dressage whip, which serves me excellently. It is beautifully slender while having even more 'spring'than the cane. And the noise it makes swishing through the air brings even me out in goose bumps.

In my experience each stroke with the dressage whip is more precise - I might say more delicate - than the cane. So each produces a more particular sensation - indeed I think it is quite unique - while adding to the rising reservoir of accumulated pain. I never increase the strength of the strokes, knowing that with whipping (or indeed caning) when strokes are delivered with a constant weight, each new one always hurts just that nice amount more.

When administering the whip, I always wear a dark suit and tie, with black shoes. I maintain an air or detached calm throughout.

You would be required to pull down your knickers, grasp your ankles, straighten your legs, and to maintain this position throughout. There must be no standing up, or reaching back with your hands. Such infringements would simply mean starting again.

You would, of course, be required to keep count. Not aloud. I hate that vulgar practice. For you may depend upon it that I will question you from time to time - and woe betide you if you lose count.

Silence is another stipulation. Since it is a taxing one, I would provide a thick leather whip handle for you to bite on. It would be entirely up to me to determine if and when the silence rule is broken.

At the end you would pull up your knickers, kneel and thank me. If you were to do this well, you would be allowed to kiss my signet ring