Home

Back to the Stories Page

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

The Dominafuhrer

The New Recruit

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

Julia

An Introduction

VO Stories

Jenny
Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss
Programme

I Sign A Contract

The Convict

The Convict/My Prison Folder

Stories

65
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
Charles
George
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Kim
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Penitence
Plimsolls
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters
Z

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1

Norseland

The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood

EXIT

EXIT THIS SITE

My Visit - An Incredible Experience

A Brief History

I have been active in the S&M and Fem Dom scenes for plus of 20years, I love many different aspects, but CP has always been one of my favourites. Over the years I have built up an affinity with several Mistresses who love to cane and over the years I have had some pretty heavy sessions with the cane. About five years ago I visited a Mistress in the Midlands, simply because she claimed to be one of the best canners in the UK. Since the arrival of the Internet I have searched for sites, were it is obvious the Mistress concerned likes to give severe canings. Locations are pretty irrelevant once my attention has been grabbed! A couple of years ago several sites started using the term Judicial Canings, I had however little idea what this actually involved. Then several months ago I came across the site of Miss Spiteful.

A page was dedicated to this subject, I was on an instant high, and the concept fascinated me, terrified me and drove me wild with desire all at once. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I knew that this would not be possible at that time, but was the future.

I saved the page and tried to forget what I had seen, the thought was never far a way however and I started dreaming about it. Then the day came when I woke up at five in the morning, telling myself the time had arrived. After showering and taking breakfast, I logged on when to the web page, clicked contact and set about e-mailing Miss Spiteful. However when with only a couple of mins to spare before I had to set off for work, I pushed the send button, I got the dreaded error message. I quickly noted the phone number and logged off. Latter that day I decided to bite the bullet and make the call. Part in terror, partly not wanting to be thought of as a time waster I said I was interested in various things but predominately CP. A time was given and the clock was running. I spent quite a while thinking of what I was going to say! Would my nerve hold, to ask for it? When I arrived Mistress took me to her dungeon and whilst removing my clothing I told her what I had come for! Now for the purpose of this article I will emit the parts of my visit that are not relevant to the subject.

Mistress said did I know what I was asking for? Mistress said she would love to give me a Judicial canning, it was explained that there would be a mandatory 36 strokes using a heavy dragon cane, that they would be given full force ands without a warm up. There was to be no safety word and would be know mercy. Madam likened it to a Singapore style canning. Madam pointed out I would be bloodied and heavily bruised, in fact” your bottom will never be the same again” Madam said. I told Madam I was terrified but needed to go through with this!

I was told to button the uniform of a convict, which Madam handed me. The material was a very heavy course material and the uniform similar to a pair of pyjamas. Once I was dressed Madam led me to a bench and ordered me to lye down over it. At this point, I don’t know why but I thought with this uniform on it can’t be that bad! Well Madam methodically strapped me down, till I was going know were! At this point Madam yanked down the pants, baring my backside! In retrospect it was ridiculous for me to think this would not be happening. This I call the mirage effect. (Brain needs to give the body hope).

Madam then told me that I was to receive 6 sets of six strokes, with sufficient time between strokes to get control of myself. There would be a short recovery break between the sets. However it was pointed out that if my behaviour was not acceptable Madam would be adding additional strokes. The point was once again made that 36 was mandatory but the punishment could be extended.

Madam then tells me that I have two minutes to contemplate my fate, before the punishment will commence. I make a conscious decision, that I am not going to look at Madam, as the strokes are applied. I hear the swishing as Madam flexes the cane several times through the air. Madam taps the cane on my buttocks several times, I presume to get the aim spot on. I remember thinking that the cane felt heavy although they were only taps. Then it happened I gasp in a mixture of shock and pain, as the first blow lands. I was surprised by the ferocity of the stroke, causing a searing pain through my buttocks. Suddenly the second lands, I struggle to get a grip of the pain being generated as the third lands. Only half way through the first set, I start to doubt I will get through this! The next three land in a similar fashion to the first three. Madam said I had taken the first six surprisingly well, Madam then examined by buttocks, remarking that to her surprise I had not bled! The next six commenced as brutally as the last, I gasp in pain then await the next by the tenth the pain is considerable but I try to focus on getting through the next two then the short break. After the first 12 Madam is amazed by buttocks still are blood free, so Madam asks if I minded being photographed, I said if I could have a copy I would be happy for Madam to take the photo’s.

The third set gets under way as I grit my teeth and count. The 14th stroke lands lower than the rest and the pain is incredible, yet Madam says it was to low and therefore the stroke would be repeated. I consider this somewhat unfair, but no better, than to argue. During the next couple of strokes Madam lets me know that she has now drawn blood. As this series came to an end, Madam examines my buttocks takes more photo’s and remarks that there was a small unmarked strip that to Madams surprise had escaped attention. Can I lay the stroke in the gap remarks Madam? This set me thinking were things about to get even worse, as all the strokes were now going to go over previous ones.

The fourth set, had me crying out at the pain of every stroke, Madam said I could cry if I liked as she liked that but I would still receive the full sentence. Madam then took further photos. The fifth set was probably the worst each stroke was just so painful. Some of the strokes were probably striking areas that were already sliced open putting an added dimension to the meaning of pain.

Before the finally six Madam complimented me on the way I had taken the punishment, further photos were taken and the final six commenced!

By this point I was of the opinion that the pain had reached a peak and I only had six to survive. I was also reaching a very odd feeling. I loved Madam for what she was doing, I felt I needed the pain, my buttocks can’t be that bad I told myself. The last stroke was a mighty one, but I had reached the end and that mixed with the intense pain started to arouse me. Then Madam said one for luck and another stroke came crashing down. Once Madam un-strapped me I was allowed to take a look in the mirror, before Madam cleansed my wounds. I found I had several bleeding welts and an area about two inches deep across both cheeks that was all bloodied.

That night I arrived home some three hours later, a glance in the mirror as I got in said that the bleeding had seeped through the towelling, my underpants and both cheeks of my trousers. Removing my underpants was quite a traumatic experience as it felt like my skin was being peeled off. Checking my bottom I found it a swollen mess, with several parallel-bloodied lines underlined by an area 1 ½ - 2 inches deep were the upper layers of skin had disappeared leaving a bloodied grazed area. I bathed my bottom with TCP then gingerly rubbed on some savalon cream, before going to bed. Lying down was painful, but thoughts of what had happened made me very stiff and I had to relive myself again.

When I got up the next morning I was shocked at the amount of blood on my sheets, I got showered disinfecting my wounds. I got dressed, with nice clean white underwear, clean trousers ect. Sitting down was just about bearable, but very uncomfortable. Through out the day if I had to go to the toilet, I would remove my pants and sit, each time my pants were stuck to me with blood. I used to clean the seat, then spend five minuets in front of the mirror, fascinated by the state of my bottom. I changed my pants again, then try to carry on as normal! By the evening I was experiencing a pulsating throbbing in by buttocks as I sat. This may sound weird but I found that particularly erotic and finished up wanting to relieve my self again, thankfully I had enough self-control to leave it alone. When I when to bed, with my nice clean sheets, I decided to be safe and lay a white T-shirt on the sheets where my bottom would be.

Waking up on the Sunday I found the T-shirt was bloodied. An examination of my buttocks showed little change other than all the bleeding was coming from that area of 1 ½ - 2 inches were I think I had been skinned! I cleaned the area again putting on clean clothes, before having breakfast. After breakfast, on going to the toilet I was somewhat surprised at how bloodied my pants had got, within an hour. I decided to use a padded dressing over the largest wound, with a lint dressing over the other, side. That afternoon on removing my trouser I noticed that the wound was still seeping through the dressing. Sitting was very uncomfortable and I was having to use my quilted coat for padding on my chair. Despite all the discomfort I find myself increasingly aroused, by what I can only call an incredible experience.

Monday morning wounds still weeping, bottom now has areas turning black and purple, with bruising. I put a clean dressing on the wound after applying some skin closures to the two most open wounds. Later that morning I see that the seeping has come right through the dressing again. Sitting has to be avoided at all costs, this proves difficult at work.

Tuesday most of my backside is a blackish purple colour as the bruising spreads; it also now includes the top of my thigh. Wounds still weeping so I have brought some more skin closures and dressings.

Wednesday change the dressings and use the new skin closures, problem is it does not cover all of the largest wound (right side). Wounds still seeping. My backside is now a work of art. I now understand why Madam said my bottom would never be the same again. Sitting is still painful.

Thursday have left the skin closure dressing in place as the continual seeping from the two main wounds are preventing the wound from scabbing, hopefully leaving the closures in place for a few days may achieve this. Right side still very painful.

Friday 2 little change although sitting is becoming easier.

Saturday little overnight seepage discovered that the lowest of the welts that was still swollen was wear the latest weeping was coming from.

Sunday 2 had long soak in bath with tea tree oil, removed all dressings and skin closures. This left a lot of raw areas, some which soon were weeping again. I have used a fresh load of skin closures and will try to leave them in place for at least six days.

Monday 2 sitting at work is ok now and my pants stayed white today!

Tuesday 2 had a meeting sat for several hours on plastic type seating. Result of this was a couple of closures came stuck to my pants. When I lowered them it ripped the closures off, exposing a couple of raw welts. I dream of what Madam has done to me! Such Female power! Such a sadistic woman!

Saturday 2 as I prepare to remove the dressings, I feel like patient who has undergone plastic surgery and is just about to have the dressings removed, not knowing what to expect.

It is quite a slow removal as the last thing I need is to open the skin up again. I am quite shocked at what I find. It is a combination of dead and dying dried up skin that looks like it has been sliced from me, with two fairly large areas of pink raw colour skin. It soon becomes apparent that the skin will now keep snagging on my pants, so I run a hot bath add a few essential oils and soak for an hour. This removed around 40% of the dead skin. I then spent a couple of hours doing house work naked from the waist down to allow the area to dry out properly.

Sunday 2 using a cocoa based cream that is for dry and dead skin removal I have several sessions at removing the dead/dying skin. By the end of the day I at least have a fairly smooth bottom for the first time in 17 days. I also still have 8 small areas of dried blood plus the pink raw areas of which the biggest measures 11/2 inches x 2 inches. That area would appear to be scarred for some time!

END


Back to the top