The List 2: Caning

This story starts here:

The First Part of The List

He was waiting for her in the bedroom, naked, sitting on the bed with his feet outstretched. She nodded in approval at the towel under his ass, and the cane in his hands.

“You don’t like the cane much do you?”

He shook his head. “No ma’am.”

She shrugged. “No point in warmup then. I think I’ll do one foot, then the other. That way it can last a little longer.”

He grimaced and she slammed the cane into the sole of his left foot, watching the meat and skin distort with the force of the blow. His leg jerked, the force traveling up his body in a spasm. He exhaled sharply, forcing the air out of his lungs, trying to breathe through the searing flash of pain that erupted in his foot.

She felt a sudden warmth travel through her, and her eyes slid half closed as she watched the pain travel through him. “Do you want to count them, or should I?” She pitched her voice several octaves higher, and tilted her head to the side. “Because I’m such a silly billy sadist, I might make a mistake.”

“One!” He breathed in and clenched his fists. “One ma’am.”

She nodded. “Smart boy.” Then she hit him again.

His body jerked and his breath rushed out of him, more pain erupting in his foot and traveling along every nerve ending in his body to his brain. Somewhere in his chocking pain he croaked out, “Two, ma’am.”

She pushed him as hard as she could, her own excitement building, barely letting him recover before hitting him again. The cane whipped through the air, the sound a charming prelude to his sounds of torture. The meaty slap as it hit his flesh, the shock that coursed back through the cane and down her arm to some place deep inside her, the sound of him counting out the strokes.

“Three, ma’am.”

The cane slashed through the air, and his body jerked again. “Four ma’am!” The pain started to pile up faster than he could deal with it. “Five ma’am!” He wasn’t trying to breathe through the pain anymore, just to breathe. “Six ma’am!” His body jerked further and harder with each stroke, and her breaths got faster. “Seven, ma’am!” His hands were balled into fists, holding tight to the towel, and she could feel her fingers itching to play with her cunt. “Eight, ma’am!” His eyes were clamped shut, trying to block out the pain, and she licked her lips at the sight of his contorted face. “Nine, ma’am.” He was holding his leg down with his hands now, forcing it to stay flat on the bed, and her thighs were trembling at the sight of how hard it was for him to submit to this torture for her. “Ten, ma’am, fuck!” The last blow bounced off his foot, ten angry red lines across the bottom of his left foot. She loved the contrast, the sight of the horizontal streaks on his skin. She wanted to run her tongue across them, to taste and feel the broken skin and popped blood vessels.

She exhaled sharply, and smiled at him. “Good boy. I’m very proud of you.” She watched him rock back and forth slightly, looked at his still clamped shut eyes and his posture. He needed a break. For that matter, she needed to get herself a little more under control as well. “Go get the black marker from the dresser.”

He nodded and slid off the end of the bed. She watched him hobble over to the dresser, favoring one foot, hopping slightly each time it hit the floor. She slid the cane through her hands, itching to make his other foot match, to restore symmetry to him. He hobbled back, wincing with each step, and held out the marker. She shook her head. “Oh no, that’s for you. I want you to write what your foot is for on your foot, the top I think, and then we’ll start on the right.”

He nodded then sat back on the bed and pulled his foot up to himself, sitting half cross-legged. He pulled the lid off the marker, and awkwardly scrawled “For caning” on the top of his foot in blocky, jagged letters. His hands still trembled slightly in pain, and her fingers twitched in pleasure. He put the lid back on the marker, and set it down on the bed, then looked up at her expectantly.

She grinned back, and stepped to the side, lining up her body to start working over his right foot. The cane smacked into him, and he started counting again. It happened faster this time, both of them were closer to the edge, more eager to get there. The initial doubts and hesitations, the uncertainties about whether they were in the mood for this sort of thing, if they’d be able to connect, if there were too many other things going on had disappeared.

She inflicted pain on him, and it reflected back onto her as pleasure. He saw her pleasure, and it made him want more pain. His hands still held his leg down, his body jerked and spasmed and complained regardless of what his mind wanted. Nerve endings frayed and fired, and he began to sweat. She swallowed hard, almost drooling at the sight of him suffering, and forced herself to set a deliberate pace and not just hit him as hard and quick as she could. To let the pleasure build rather then gorge herself on it all at once and swallow it as fast she could, let it run down her chin and splash on her tits.

“Ten, ma’am!” He counted out the last stroke, and her breathing was as hard and fast as his. She waited for his eyes to flutter open, and pointed at the marker. “Write it down.” She tried to think of a way to make it funny, to add a joke or a comment, but all she could think of was the wonderful feelings bouncing around her body and mind.

His hand shook as he scrawled out the big, block letters on his other foot. She nodded when he was done, and thought about the list. “Next is crawling, I believe.” She chuckled then, and smiled. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought.” One eyebrow bounced up. “Or maybe not.”

Preview: The List 3: Crawling

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Eventually

She pushed him against the wall, face first, and stepped back. His skin shined in the dim light, and she licked her lips. “Which gag for you tonight? I think the penis gag, you look like the kind of guy that will really struggle to keep a cock in his mouth.” She shoved gag past his lips, making sure the bottom of the fake cock rested on his tongue, and let the straps dangle from the base.

He turned his head expectantly, waiting for her to fasten the straps, but she just shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to beat you as long as you have that cock in your mouth, and not a second longer. You want to suffer? Tonight you’re going to prove it. Spit out the gag when you want it to end.”

She shucked her pants down and off, then pulled a bullet vibe out of the toy drawer. It hummed to life, and she carefully slid it down her panties, making sure it rested snuggly against her clit. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll willingly spit it out. I think you’ll keep it in your mouth as long as you can, but eventually you’ll scream, and it’ll fall out.”

She grabbed his hair and turned his head until he was facing the wall, then leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait to hear you scream.”

The rubber band snapped into the skin on the back of his shoulder. Thick skin that was constantly being rubbed and abraded by clothing and sheets, skin with relatively few nerve endings. Skin that could take a lot of punishment. Blood vessels rose to the surface and popped as she pulled the rubber band back and let him snap into his body again and again, methodically working on one side then the other. Ten snaps on the left, ten snaps on the right.

He wasn’t even breathing hard yet, and she purred in appreciation.

When those spots were tenderized, she moved on to the crop. Light, stingy pain. Quick flicks of her wrist on the same spots she had been working on earlier. He liked his marks, liked to check them in the mirror when he woke up in the morning, and she was happy to give him a few. He’d have an abundance after tonight. He didn’t mind the crop much, it didn’t weigh enough to really hurt him with one stroke, so she made the blows light and quick. Made sure the pain built up and never had a chance to subside.

When his breathing started to get harder, and the air rushed out past the gag harder and faster, she shifted her hips and rocked the vibrator buzzing against her cunt.

More quick slaps with the crop, now on his ass. First one cheek, then the other, alternating back and forth while the skin on his shoulders was still hot and burning. She could have plugged him, left him with a plug in his ass or a tail dangling between his spread legs, but she didn’t want him slipping away into being a thing. She didn’t want him to slip away into the feeling that he he was some thing that deserved to be violated, to be used for his holes and his pain. She wanted him to be fully aware and feel every second of agony.

Sometimes subspace was fun, but sometimes it really annoyed her when he started to enjoy her carefully orchestrated beatings. Not tonight, not until the very end. Not until she had gotten off.

She switched to the evil stick, a light carbon something-or-other rod that stung like a motherfucker. She kept working on his ass, then bounced a quick his off one shoulder. This could hurt with one hit, and she kept working her away around his body, starting a pattern then deliberately veering off in a random spot. From his shoulder to his ass, back to his shoulders, down to the back of his thighs, back to his ass, a sharp jab to his balls, working her way around his body.

She used the stick in one hand, and twisted the waistband of her panties with the other. The vibrator was pulled harder against her cunt and she gasped in pleasure. His breathing was harder now, and she could tell he was trying to exhale when she hit him. She twisted her panties in time with his breaths, giving herself sharp bursts of pleasure every time she hit him.

She hit him until she saw his body start to slacken, and could tell he was getting used to the pain. Time to change things up a little. The wooden paddle was heavy, thuddier, more impact pain than stinging pain. She lined it up carefully, and laid a sharp slap across his ass.

His hips jerked, and slammed into the wall as he rose up on his toes. “God, I should have tied some weights around your cock to keep you from fucking the wall.” Another slap, this time only across one of his ass cheeks. That leg spasmed and the knee jerked, and she angled her wrist to hit the other side. She worked one side of his body, then the other, letting him jerk and twist. He bounced off the wall, and she looked at his face as it jerked into view every time she slapped the hard wood into one side of his body.

His eyes were screwed closed, and he was breathing hard. His lips were pulled back, and she could see him biting into the gag to keep it from falling out of his mouth. She started hitting him harder, across his entire ass now, putting more of her arm into it. His hands were curled into fists and he was sweating. She kept hitting him, twisting her panties.

When he started gasping around the gag, making animal sounds even with his mouth full of fake cock, she set the paddle aside. She picked up the cane, and poked him under the chin. “Open your eyes.”

His eyes slid open, and his body slumped. He groaned at the sight of the cane, and she nodded. “You will scream, eventually.” Drool poured out of his mouth around the gag, and she knew his jaw ached, but he still held it in his mouth.

She reached into her panties and flipped the vibrator to high, then started to cane the back of his thighs. She had left this area virtually untouched, wanting the skin to be fresh when she got to this point. She wanted this to last.

The cane thudded into his body, and she laid bright red lines across the back of his legs. The cane whomped into him, sinking into his flesh then springing back. His body convulsed with each blow, and tears, drool, and sweat all poured out of him. She felt the vibrations rocking through her cunt, and felt her orgasm building quickly. She kept hitting him, kept slapping the cane into his trembling body, and forced herself not to come. Not yet, she told herself. Not until he screamed.

The cane thudded into his body again. And again. And again. She felt the frustration building within her, and started to hit him harder. She fought to keep herself in check, to keep from damaging him, and succeeded. Barely.

The heat in her cunt spread through her body, and time slowed down. She could feel the smooth varnish on the cane against the ridges of her fingerprints, and hear the air swish as she swung. The cane moved through the air slowly, then thudded into his body. She was hyper-aware of the force being moved down her arm, through the cane, into his body, and back. She could see the shock traveling up and down his body, making his muscles jerk and contort, all down his legs and up his back.

She moved around to his other side, and continued beating him. The lines across his body were and angry red and purple now, and small trails of blood ran down his legs, pooling and knotting the fine hairs on his legs. He suddenly sensed that she had moved, and turned his face to follow her to the other side of his body. The can caught him halfway through the movement, and pain exploded in his brain.

The gag flew out of his mouth and bounced on the floor, and she stared at it for a second before her hips spasmed and she came. The cane thudded down to the floor, and she groaned and sank to her knees as the orgasm slammed into her. She ground her teeth together and smashed her thighs against one another, riding the wave of pleasure as it washed across her body.

She pulled the vibrator out of her panties, and turned it off. She carefully stood, her legs still slightly wobbly, and carefully pulled him to the bathroom, making sure he wasn’t dripping blood on the floor. She’d have to remember that in the future. Blood was a bitch to get out of the beige carpet.

He followed her into the bathroom with small, mincing steps, and sagged gratefully on the sink. She could hear him hiss as she rubbed alcohol down the welts, carefully cleaning each one. Her thoughts were still warm and fuzzy, and she played with the abrasions she had left on his body as she carefully sterilized them and put bandages over the worst.

She slowly licked her lips, and spun him around so that he was facing her. She wrapped her hands around his balls, not squeezing, just applying enough pressure that she got his attention. “Who owns this cock?”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “You own that cock, ma’am.”

She shook her head and tugged on his balls, just enough to make him wince. “That didn’t sound sincere. Look in my eyes and tell me who owns this cock.”

He opened his eyes, and looked down at her, and smiled, just a little bit. “You own that cock ma’am.” His cock twitched as she ran her thumb along the shaft, teasing the head.

“Yes I do. And I decide if I’m going to punish you by hurting it, or reward you by making it cum, isn’t that right?”

His cock twitched again and he raised himself on his toes slightly as she continued to rub the sensitive skin. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” She slid her lips over the head of his cock, teasing it with her tongue, then letting it pop out of her lips. “You have no say in the matter.” She licked down the length of his cock, swirling her tongue around the head. “You took quite a beating, and you will have an orgasm.” She wrapped her lips around his cock again, working more of the hard flesh into her mouth.

He groaned and she sucked a little harder, pushing him closer to orgasm. She glanced up and his head was back, his mouth open and breathing hard. She worked her free hand behind his body and jabbed her fingernail into one of the welts. He whimpered and jumped, his cock almost falling out of her mouth as she went back to working on his cock.

“Ugh…” He growled deep in his throat, and she paused, holding his cock in her mouth, letting his pleasure die down a little before building it up again, a little further each time.

“May your cock please come, ma’am?”

Ever so slowly she dragged her lips along his cock until it popped out of her mouth. “There’s no permission here. My cock will come. And then we’ll put the gag back in your mouth, and I’ll bet you until you scream again.”

She shoved his cock in her mouth, sucking hard as his the words sank into his mind and his hips jerked. His legs shuddered as he came, and she could feel his cock convulsing in her mouth. She waited patiently for it to end, slowly running her tongue over his skin, teasing the frantic nerve endings, then stood up.

Small hands pushed her hair out of the way as she leaned around him to spit in the sink. She scooped a handful of cold water into her mouth, swished it around, then spit again. His legs were still trembling and his breathing was still hard and fast, his cock half-hard and wet with her spit.

She kissed him lightly on the lips, her hands on his shoulders in case he collapsed. “You did very well, pet. Now crawl back into the bedroom while I get a sheet of plastic for you to stand on. I don’t want to worry about you bleeding on my carpet.”

He started to sink to his knees, but one finger under his chin stopped him. Her lips were a fraction of an inch from his ear when she whispered, “You did very, very well, but it’s going to get more difficult each time. I just want you to know, keep impressing me, and I’ll have that cock I let you borrow coming in my cunt.”

He shuddered and she smiled. “Eventually. Not the second time, but around the fourth or fifth scream, I think I’ll want my cock to feel my cunt.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded and his shoulders slumped as he started to sink to his knees.

Her finger on his chin stopped him. “Make it to double digits, and I’ll lock that disgusting appendage up, and keep it in a hard plastic cage while you suck on my tits and eat my pussy, unable to get even a little bit hard.”

His body froze, but his sharp inhalation told her exactly where his mind was determined to be by the end of the night. He crawled into the bedroom, and she went to get a plastic drop cloth from the linen closet.

She already had the package torn open and was pulling the plastic apart when she walked through the door. He was standing, facing the wall again, the cock gag in his mouth and the straps buckled tightly around his head. She dropped the plastic next to him, and chuckled as she undid the buckle to the gag.

“Nice try. It gets harder each time though, not easier. I don’t want my cock to be spoiled.” He let out a soft mewl of protest as she pulled the cock out of his mouth, and dropped it in the drawer. She came back with a dildo, larger than the cock gag, harder to keep in his mouth. “Open.”

His mouth opened the fake cock slid into his mouth, disappearing inside him inch by inch. The balls dangled obscenely in front of him as he wrapped his lips around the cock, applying pressure with his teeth to keep it in his mouth.

She rubbed his hair, then slid him over so he was standing on the plastic. “Don’t worry, you won’t get a bigger cock every time. At least not in your mouth. I’ll be plugging some other holes too. Eventually.”

She slipped the vibrator back in her panties, and turned it on low. He turned his head to face the wall, pinning the base of the dildo there to keep it from falling out of his mouth. His lips sank a little further onto the fake cock, and she grinned.

She couldn’t wait to hear him scream.

Preview: The cardboard scraped against his cheeks as he slid his head inside the box.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Choose Your Own Adveture 5: More Suffering!

Probably make more sense if you started at the start… Chapter 1

Finally he whimpered and fell over, pulling his legs up to his chest. “Please, no more…”

She arched an eyebrow, and hefted the cane in her hand.

She swung it above his body like a pendulum, looking down at him, clinically observing his reactions. Trying to determine if he really could take a little more, or if his body couldn’t be pushed any further without breaking.

“Well Navaux, it seems the rumors overstated your passion for corporal punishment. Get back up on your hands and knees, and take five more strokes, and I’ll let beg me to suffer in some other manner.”

He groaned and took a deep breath, but slowly pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

She didn’t hesitate, and the cane smacked hard into his body again. He barked a short yell, and his body jerked.

“What do we say Navaux? I would hate to think you weren’t grateful.”

His eyes blinked, trying to clear the tears that were flooding them. “Thank you Citizen Ma’am.”

The cane thudded into his body again. “Thank you for what, Navaux?”

“Uhhhhh… Thank you for letting me suffer in some other way, Citizen Ma’am.”

Again the cylinder tore into his flesh, nerve endings sending signals of damage and harm to his brain. He tried to push them aside, to focus on the words. “Thank you for punishing me Citizen Ma’am.”

“Hm.” She murmured a happy sound, and hit him again. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you for punishing me ma’am.”

His body slumped, and she smiled. “You can beg to suffer in some other way now.” Red welts were already forming, and she ran a finger lightly along one scarlet line. She dragged her finger along his spine, walking around to stand in front of him, and kneel down to look into his eyes. “You need to beg to suffer some other way now.”

He nodded, and his lips moved, but no words came out.

She nodded back. “Start with the word ‘Please.'”

“Please…” He swallowed and tried to focus. “May I suffer some other way?”

She nodded. “That will do. On your back, hands at your side.”

She waited for him to roll his body over, feeling a tremor work its way over her body as he flinched when his skin touched the floor. She settled herself carefully over his chest, then lowered her weight onto his sternum. His breathing became shallow, and sped up as her weight kept his lungs from fully inflating.

She started to punch him, her fist crashing into the meaty part of his pectoral muscle, high on his body. She watched him flinch, felt him trying to breath, and smiled as his eyes rolled back into his head. Her fist hammered into his body until he was twitching in time with the blows, little tortured gasps working their way out of his lips.

She slowed down, lifted herself a little, let some of the fog clear from his head, then patted his cheek. “Navaux? I let you off easy last time, but I’m going to need you to beg me and tell me how you’d like to be tortured now. And if I don’t like your suggestion, it’ll be off to the guillotine.”

He took a deep breath, and blinked his eyes, trying to clear his head. He wasn’t thinking about trying to win the game anymore, or worrying about the storyline, he just tried to imagine what would please her.

“Citizen ma’am, please torture my cock and balls…”

…and here’s the voting part…

1. Citizen Ma’am accepts that and tortures his cock and balls.
2. Nope! Off with his head!

Preview: Ink always aided the discovery.

Copyright Jerry Jones.