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Life With Sis

With my new rules for life under the control of my cruel sister-in-law, Sis, posted on the kitchen board, I began the first day of my unlimited sentence. She decided that although I hadn't yet had a chance to do anything wrong, I needed to be punished to get my 'head in the right place'. I was already naked, as per the rule, so I didn't need to undress, and I literally ran to get the cane as instructed, and knelt in front of Sis, holding the cane up towards her, but with my head lowered, looking ant her feet. She took the cane and instructed me to stand, turning me round to face the back of a kitchen chair, then pushing me over to grasp the front legs. My wrists were secured to the chair legs with two pairs of wrist cuffs, then she picked up a length of tow rope, which she'd found in the shed, and proceeded to tie a knot around the base of my balls, then laid the rope across the kitchen table and tied it to the far legs, tightening the tension until my balls were pulled up to be trapped between the chair cross brace and the edge of the table. She had obviously worked this out carefully, as it put me in the most precarious position. My balls were already in pain from being stretched by the rope, and secondly by being trapped between the two pieces of furniture, with me pressing against the chair to ease the pull of the rope, but increasing the pain from the squeezing. I immediately realised that if she hit me hard enough to cause me to jerk forwards, I would end up crushing my own balls!

Sis put some music on, Wagner, Ride of the Valkyries, very funny! She stood behind and to the left of me, swishing the cane in her right hand. She asked me if half an hour would be about right, and I groaned and pleaded with her to make it less, but she just laughed, and told me that it wouldn't be less but might be more, especially as she hadn't set a timer or anything, so if she enjoyed herself she could easily go way over the time.

I briefly heard a slight whistling sound, a split second before my arse exploded in pain, which was immediately followed by an excrutiating pain in my balls! 'How was that for you?' Sis asked, chuckling, but before I could answer  my bum exploded again, and again the pain in my balls followed. I realised that although the pain in my arse was about the same, my balls hurt more, and that I had to stop flinching, or I would be in even bigger trouble. I tried so hard to keep rigidly still, but Sis kept changing her rhythmn, pausing for a few moments, then launching a volley of about 10 blows in rapid succession. Try as I might, she always seemed to catch me out, and my testicles were getting more and more painful.

After what seemed like forever, Sis stopped caning me, and sat down on a kitchen chair to look me in the eyes. She was very flushed, partly from the exertion, but also, I believe from sexual arousal. This quickly proved to be an accurate guess, since she removed her jeans and thong and climbed onto the table. She grabbed a couple of cushions and put them under her sexy bum, lifting her to a height where I could just about lick her ****, although I had to strain my balls against the rope to reach her, and at the same time squeeze the chair forward, further crushing my balls. It was agony, but she made it clear that if she didn't get several ******* pretty bloody quickly, she would give me another half hour session with the cane.

I licked with all the skill and enthusiasm I could manage and she was soon building towards her climax. As the peak hit her, she grabbed my hair and pulled me as hard into her undulating, wet, smelly **** as she possibly could. I couldn't breathe, and her pulling on me caused me to squeeze my chair, and therefore my balls even more than I had so far, which was unbelievably painful. Despite my lack of air, I could not hold back on an uncontrolled primeval scream. Sis was screaming 'yes!yes!yes!' for ages, obviously receiving an even better ****** due to my screaming int her ****. Finally she released my head and slumped back onto the table.

She told me I had made a good start, but she wanted at least two more *******, however first she needed to pee, and with that she pulled my head into her **** again and proceeded to fill my mouth with ****. I desperately tried not to scream, so I could swallow her ****, and just about succeeded without spilling any. I was then directed to lick her clean, including her arse, which had a very unpleasant odour and taste, especially when I followed her instruction to push my tongue right inside her puckered anus, after which she set me back to work on her ****.

I don't know how long the ordeal lasted, but it seemed like forever before she finally climbed down off the table and released me. Once I was freed, Sis gave me a typed list of jobs, and told me to get on with it. I was in agony and exhausted, but I had no choice. Throughout the day Sis would wander in to a room I was working in, and make comments about my laziness, give my arse a quick swat with the cane, or knee me in the balls. By the time my wife came home at about 6:30pm, I was completely destoyed mentally and physically. My beautiful wife asked Sis how the first day had gone, and was told that it had gone quite well, but there was a lot of work to do. I just kept my head down working, and tried not to show my tears as my wife told her sister that she was so grateful for her taking the time and trouble to train me.

krsoundman krsoundman 56-60, M 1 Response Jul 2, 2012

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You can't expect life to fulfill you, but you can do things to fulfill your life.
When you think of it, in a society that has no tolerance for tears, affectionate caning can be an intimate blessing.

What she did was an act of female power conducting, the opposite of man-hating!
There was nothing detached about it, and i experienced nothing of what she did as being cruel, or in any shape or form wrong.
Like most Dutch girls she is a natural born feminist without ever having to read a word about it: it's in her DNA and I'm glad of it!

(I walked her through similar experiences I had with pro doms years ago; I stopped seeing pros once I learned enough to train amateurs to go through the events with me! This was the first caning Leah ever gave, but certainly not the first one for me to receive. It was much safer than two amateurs going at it for the first time! If you accuse me of taking her "virginity" as a corporal punishment administrator, you must also admit i did get my hide tanned for it!)

Caning was still legal throughout my childhood, and I was horrified of it.
As an adult, one Saturday afternoon in August, naked, I bent over a bar stool and touched the floor in front of me with the tips of my fingers.
The effect was to spread my bare buttocks wide apart completely exposing the sitting muscles, soon for a time to be less comfortable for sitting on.
Dutch pretty, sincerely polite, considerate, utterly charming, ever so girlie girl Leah gave me six-of-the best.
With black electrical tape I had wound around the stem just before the crook handle so as to give her a good grip on it, and to make it a true English school--I had it shipped over from England--"Bognor," she used the 5/16" rattan.
This was the first time she had ever even held a cane in her hands, but she knew what she was doing because she had listened to the instructional audio, Miss Marianne Martindale's "The Art Of Caning."
Strong, flexible, fluid, whippy, good "crack" and a good "fall" to it, there were low whooshes and six loud smacks.
And, six tramlines on my bottom afterwards.
With each stroke, there was a caress across my bare bottom, followed a few seconds later by the pain.
The thin red lines stood out for a few days.
It was like she was still with me.
By the next Saturday they were absolutely gone.
Whenever I sat down, for a couple of days immediately after the incident, I had a mild raw feeling, like something was missing .
I put an extra cushion on my chair.
That solved the problem.
Not a big deal.
There was no other subsequent discomfort than this tenderness.
By getting it as an act of friendship--and education--I conquered that one terror in my life, much like turning snake poison into an antidote.
The experience gave me power and took none away.

It was a totally satisfying experience for Leah, and that makes it totally satisfying for me.
While using it she felt the cane was a part of her. So did I.
I don't so much feel that the cane was used as that it was shared.
I opened myself to intimacy, and it was quite a forceful connecting, a fusion, a very personal energy going into me.
"I liked everything about it," said she. "I did it on your bare bottom because on the seat of the underpants it would have been like eating a candy with the wrapper on it. I stopped only because I felt sorry for you. I didn't use follow through because I didn't want to cut you in two. You have a cute asphole."
It was more than just a somethingness, a lack of a void.
Pain, and the possibility of transcendence, there is something empowering about having "survived" a good thrashing!
I feel love for Leah, but it isn't.

It is a unique kind of bonding.

It's like she got a piece of me and made it a part of her, but the piece also grew back quickly and without a trace, and I have a piece of her which I treasure as a part of me now.

Thirteen years later, grade ten dropout, two kids by two different men, a never wore her seat belt car accident, god knows how many cigarettes, experimenting with drugs to keep from getting fat, arrested for stealing form her employer, I wonder if she still giggles, and just how aware she is that, as I understand it, no man since has ever been willing to let her do anything at all like what she did with me to him.

Resignation is giving away your power.
Surrender is getting your power back. In no way did I resign myself to the cane, but rather I surrendered myself to it, and just thinking about it right now electrifies me.

I loved feeling the air against my bare skin, and the cane against my bare bottom.

She got the right end of the stick for her.
I got the right end of the stick for me.
I feel closer to women for it.

A satisfied woman is always an accomplishment to a man who loves them!
Three cheers!

If you try to hold onto wisdom it will just run through your fingers. The more you share of it, the more you keep.
All the things you love about another person are inside you, and can never be taken away.

And of course, now that she has educated me, I apologize for ever saying women are wrong to go topless in public!


One Type Of Cupid's Bow!

drawing

the

bow

the

snap

of

the

string

when

she

shoots

an

arrow

raising

the

cane

the

whoosh

of

the

cane

when

she

starts

a

stroke

huting

she

loves

to

drop

the

meat

on

the

ground

with a

perfect

arrow

kill

and

later

me

on

the

floor

with a

perfect

cane

stroke