Cane Week

I am new to this.

So new, that I do not know where my limits are. Oh, there are the ones that Sir calls the “Big Four”, which I agree with.

  • No animals
  • No children
  • No dead things
  • Nothing that belongs in a toilet

Anything else is cause for discussion.

The past few weeks, Sir has been devoting a week to each impact implement. By spending a week with each thing, we both learn a lot. I learn what I can handle. Sir learns how I react to impact, placement, and recovery.

We finished Cane Week last Saturday night.

The cane is an iconic item in BDSM. Its fame/infamy has been highlighted in sensational news stories, and literature. It can do a lot of harm. It is exquisitely painful; made of snap and sting.

I was afraid that I would not be able to handle the cane. But, for me, being afraid means that I need to do it. I must do it. We headed into the week.

The first day, my knees buckled a bit with the third strike. Sir had to keep reminding me to breathe. I still ended up light-headed and dizzy by the end. It hurt a lot. The pain, along with its residual sting, never became dulled. It was as if I could not get used to it. Sir says that is due to its whippiness.

My body seems to like it, though. A few strokes in, and I’m wet.

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