A Caning

The cane tapped softly on the back of my thighs. First the right one and then the left, right, left, over and over until I was feeling a warm, delicious glow building in my ass.

"Hold your position."

"Yes, Sir."

The words were spoken softly yet the command in them was unmistakable and I could feel a warm gush between my legs as my hungry pussy happily responded to both the words and music of his voice.

Anything. I would do anything this man demanded of me so that he would continue his magic... magic, tapping, harder strokes, soaking wet cunt.

"This one is going to hurt. Will you take it for me?"

"Yes, Sir."



How I wish I could have taken that caning. Especially that last stroke and the fucking that was sure to follow - I was so turned on when I woke up.

Yes, sadly, it was all a dream. I had rolled onto my bad shoulder during the night, somehow dislodging the pillow that was supporting it and throwing off the heating pad that was wrapped around it as well. So I suppose the pain from that combined with the frustration of not getting fucked in so long I can't even remember how anymore=wet dreams.

I just found it interesting that I dreamed about being caned considering I've never been caned, never even seen a cane. And while we do own a flogger... Allan is pretty handy with it when he's in the mood, a cane is another one of the things that makes him turn green and look at me like I'm a freak. *sigh* He's probably right and I would hate it since I'm a wuss about pain, but I'd just like the chance to TRY it once or twice, ya know?