THE STORY OF T

Chapter 12 - My First Eighteen Strokes

I sensed her move up beside the trestle, and felt her cane pressed gently against my ass.  Her cane moved gently up and down, massaging my ass.

I was desperate. This was it!  Suddenly, I thought of a way out.....

‘Please Madame, please, may I not be caned this time?' I gasped frantically.

'I promise I will be completely obedient from now on…..please.....may I have a double punishment next time, and not be punished this time? Please Ma'am! Please!' 

She paused.

I held my breath. Maybe I could talk my way out of this caning!

‘Sorry.....the answer is "no"! Double punishments are automatic for a second offence! And triple punishments after a third offence! Get the idea? But this is your first offence, so you only get 36!”

She pressed the cane to my ass. ‘It’s the cane for you! It’s time to pay for your errors! Right now! And nothing you say will make any difference!’ I felt the cane moved away from my ass.

The audience of ladies were hushed. 'This is what you get for disobedience, here, boy’ I heard one of them call out.

“Yes, indeed!” said Ms Grange.

A rushing sound, then...

CRACK!!!!!

A stripe of burning fire blazed across my buttocks. It was all the pain of the strap, but concentrated into a single narrow line of white-hot flame. It was ten times as intense as the strap! It was intolerable! Unendurable! An animal moan of agony burst from my mouth. Despite my effort to not make any sound.

I strained with all my strength against the leather straps.  They would not give! I waved my hands and feet wildly, trying to find a surface to push against. I found nothing but air.  I lay helpessly strapped across the trestle. I gasped for breath. It was hard to breath, the straps were so tight. The single line of pain still burned across my ass.

I heard one of the watching ladies laugh, and the murmur of their voices.  A bell gave a soft chime. ‘Your ten seconds are up, boy, so that stroke must be repeated’ said Mrs. Grange calmly.

Again the cane was pressed to my ass.

‘No! Please!  One! Thank You Madame!  Please, please, I forgot to count!  Please Madame’

'You are much too late. You poor stupid boy! You must count every stroke within 10 seconds, or get it again. I told you that! You have to be made to learn your lessons!

The cane moved away. I heard the cane whistle again, and a second line burned across my ass, ¼” below the first, and exactly parallel to it.

I gasped with pain, then, as fast as I could, I called out  ‘Two, thank you Madame’. 

She laughed

‘No boy, that count is wrong! That was a repeat of the first stroke. That was stroke number one!

‘It’s just simple arithmetic, boy. But since you can’t keep a proper count, you must get that stroke yet again!’

“NOooo, NOoooono, pleeeaaaase” I shouted. 

Again the cane rubbed gently over my ass then withdrew, and a third line of pain seared below the first two, again spaced ¼” further down, and again exactly parallel. This time I screamed in pain, I could not help myself.

‘One, thank you Madame” I yelled frantically. 'And please, no more! Please! Please!! Please!!! I can’t take any more! I really can’t! Please Madame, that’s enough!  I can’t take anymore! 

‘You can't take any more? Really? Because you’ve got another thirty five coming!’

“NOooooo!!!!!!!"

'Please........please, please, please! I can’t take that many! I can’t! Please, no more!” I heard myself yelling.

CRACK!

"Two! Thank you, Ma'am! Please.....please......please...."

and again....CRACK!…..

"Please!  Please! Oh God! Three!!! Thank you Ma'am!.... no more!

CRACK!

‘Nooooo.....Pleeassse.....Four! Thank you Ma'am! No more! Please!!!!!'

Between my sobbing and begging and cursing, I counted each stroke, and thanked her for each, as clearly as I could. After a while, I forgot to count. The pain was all I could think about. The caning continued at a steady, regular pace, despite my yelling. I was out of control after a while, just yelling and struggling with the tight straps, held perfectly in position. I heard Mrs. Grange breathing louder with the effort she was putting into her strokes. She began to laugh out loud as my shouting got louder. Between the steady pace of strokes, she spoke into my ear. ‘That’s it, boy…..howl away!…. that’s how I know its hurting!….. you have lost more to come! A nice steady pace, no matter how much you yell! And remember, it’s going to hurt more and more as I go on!’

CRACK!  CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

A wordless, animal howl of agony was now coming from my throat after each stroke, and my tears and sweat was soaked into the leather face mask. I sobbed, and my nose ran, and the tears and slime dripped down on the floor.. I was soaked in sweat. Faintly, I heard applause and laughter from the watching ladies.

‘You are starting to howl beautifully, boy…. is your bottom starting to hurt a little bit now….?’

The strokes continued, a completely steady pace, every stroke delivered hard, and accurately placed just below the previous one. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

I had lost count of the strokes. But finally, she stopped. She stepped back and I heard her turn towards the audience of ladies.

A loud round of applause came from the audience.

My ass was on fire! 

I babbled, completely out of control.. My ass was burning in a continuous, wide band of fire. I was striped at 1/4" intervals, every stroke exactly parallel to the rest. I was being caned by an expert! I had completely lost count of the strokes. Thank god it was over! I could not have stood even one more stroke!

I was beside myself with the pain. I babbled incoherently to myself. 'Please, please, please....I'll be good, madame....I will I will I will....fuck... fuck....no.....no more.......please, madame, please....I will be good,..i will....I will...please.......oh...oh...oh....please...please....oh....fuck.....fuck, fuck.....please.....please.....i won't be bad any more...i'm sorry....please.....please.....please....please...... I can't.....I can't........please....no more.....please.....please.....please.......PLEASE.......I'll be good...I will I will,  please...

Noone took any notice. They stood around me, talking and laughing amongst themselves. As my sobbing and babbling gradually subsided, I began to hear the clink of wineglasses. The sound of women’s voices grew louder, and I heard the click of their high heels and the rustle of their dresses as they moved close around me.  

‘Look…he’s dribbling, the beast! Give him extra for that!’ The lady shrieked with laughter.

‘He’ll be made to lick up his mess afterwards, I hope, Ms. Grange?’ Another woman laughed.

‘Let me see what mess he’s making around there…. Oh, it’s disgusting…. yes,  I'll make him lick it up….. provided he's still alive after the next eighteen’. 

I shuddered. Had I only had eighteen?!!!!! That meant I had another eighteen coming! I began to moan and babble again.

The women shrieked with laughter. I heard the clink of wine glasses, the sound of high heels....I felt dizzy.....please God, let me lose consciousness....

After about 15 minutes, I heard the group of women moved away, laughing and chatting. 

'Let's continue. Quiet, if you please, Ladies, please be seated. We'll give him another eighteen, then we will retire to the dining room' said Ms Grange loudly.

So it was true! I had only had eighteen! She was going to give me another eighteen!!!!! A thrill of horror ran though me. I simply could not take another eighteen! The first twelve had been unendurable, and the next would be even worse!

Oh Christ, I thought, she loves doing this! She's going to give me another eighteen! And she will!!! There's nothing I can do to stop her!

I felt Mrs. Grange's gloved hand caress my cheek.  I felt her hair brush my heaving shoulders. I heard her whisper, close to my ear. 'You have beautiful weals my pretty boy. You mark very well! I'm very pleased..............we'll do this lots more times!............you do know you're here for ever, don't you. You and the other prisoners!.....I'm going to keep you all chained in your cells, naked, on straw, ready for caning whenever I wish.......Mmmmm........I'm so enjoying this....'.

She stepped back and spoke loudly, so all could hear.

'I'm going to give you another eighteen strokes now!


To continue this story, click My Second Eighteen Strokes.


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The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute
I Enter The Institute
Legal Arrangements Concluded
I Am Taken To My Cell
Chained Up
My First Day In My Cell
My Second Day In My Cell
My Third Day In My Cell
Six Months Later
The Trestle
My First Eighteen Strokes
The Second Eighteen Strokes
After Caning
I Finally Realise There Is No Release
My Sentence Continues
Locked Up Again
Same Again
Finale

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 Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

The Dominafuhrer

The New Recruit

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

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

Episode 1 - A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1

Norseland

The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood

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