I picked up my cane, long and thin, and swished it through the air above Melinda’s back. She tensed as the rattan whistled just inches from her flesh.
Standing beside her left hip, I lined the cane up with the middle of her bottom, touching it lightly across her shivering flesh – the muscles in her thighs and buttocks tightened at the touch of the wooden implement.
Knowing that she was still new to the idea of a cane across her bottom, I decided not to use my full strength in delivering five strokes. It was unlikely that even at half-impact, Melinda would be able to take more than five of the fiery strikes.
Slowly I drew the cane back, and without further hesitation, snapped the rattan forward.
The cane met her flesh with a meaty smack, and Melinda immediately screeched in pain. She wiggled her ass and raised a foot, but otherwise maintained her control. A single tear dropped from her lovely eyes to splash on the seat of the chair that she gripped tightly.
I waited for her to regain her composure before I delivered the next stroke, tapping her bottom cheeks lightly with the rattan. It would take a few moments for the pain to settle, and with only five strokes, I wanted this caning to last as long as possible.
I heard Melinda snuffle back her tears, and she settled once again into position. I drew the cane back yet again and landed a second stroke, crossing the first.
Melinda yelped out her agony, and her bottom cheeks danced with the fire of the stroke.
Three more, I thought, admiring the little ‘x’ that crossed both of her cheeks.