My husband brought home a school cane that he found in an antique shop. When the kids were in bed, he told me that I was going to be caned for misbehaviour — but not what the misbehaviour was. He bent me over the arm of the sofa, lifted my skirt and pulled my p****** down to below my knees. Then… WHACK! Ouch! WHACK! Oh, my God… WHACK! Christ, that hurts. WHACK! Darling, please stop, it hurts so- WHACK! I started to cry. WHACK! He took photographs of my red bottom with its straight, parallel tramlines. He said he used to be a prefect at school and he used to cane the class beauty. She loved being caned. I said, in that case, I love it too.
