Caned Hard by Leanne

"You wouldn't be able to take a real caning, you're all talk!" Leanne, my wife snorts derisively.

We are in the lounge of my late mother's house, and it is rather warm. I have a feeling that it is about to get somewhat ‘warmer’ for me in the near future.

I am three years older than Leanne; she is just twenty-nine, but there is no doubt as to who the senior partner in our relationship is.

"You think I'm a wimp, don't you? Okay, if I can’t take four hard strokes of the cane I'll give you forty quid - a tenner for each whack. But you'll get nothing if I do take them!"

"Deal!" she says.

In all the years I had been with her I had never known Leanne to pass up the chance to make an easy buck.

I take out my wallet, count out four brown ones and place the notes carefully on the arm rest of the sofa.

"Right, you'd better strip off, it'll be far more painful on bare skin!" she smiles wickedly.

Despite her protestations in the past to the contrary she is a sadist.

"I'll be back in a mo, don't go away," she says breezily before walking out of the lounge.

I remove all my clothes in compliance with her instructions and await with mounting tension her return…

The door to the lounge swings open and a few seconds later I feel a chill breeze over my unclad body. I shiver but only partly due to the sudden draft of cool air.

She is clutching a bamboo garden cane in her hand: "This will do the trick, I reckon!" she announces evilly.

"Right, I'll take my top off, I don't want anything restricting the power of my swing!"

She does this in part to torment me further as she knows how I lust after her; she is a sexy and beautiful lady and knows it too, uses it to charm men to her advantage.

She can also be a bitch. A complete and utter bitch.

She is golden blonde, and I'll be honest out of a bottle, with full hair tumbling down onto her small shoulders. She is petite and very pretty with a straight nose, high cheek bones and a wide 'Hollywood' smile. Her eyes, though a deep and delicious blue, hint at an inner cruelty.

I loved her, loved her absolutely, how could I not?

I cannot help but watch her pull her black chunky knot jumper over her head and then unhook her black lace bra revealing her golden tanned flesh and large pendulous tits.

"Are you ready to experience some real pain now and pay for it to boot?" she gently, but menacingly, taps her cupped left hand with the cane in her right one.

I am scared, fucking scared, but I can't bottle out now as I will forfeit forty quid!

"I'm ready." My balls tingle with the fear.

"Four, four, hard ones we agreed on, wasn't it?" She cannot resist the temptation to prolong my mental torture prior, of course, to the real torture.

"Okay, bend over the back of the armchair so that you are on tiptoe, I want your buttocks really taut. If you straighten up or request me to stop then the money's mine. Keep quiet if you can manage it. Nothing more pathetic than the sound of a crying man!"

I comply meekly with her instructions. Agony is just seconds away.

I sense her pulling her bare right arm back as far as possible. I hear a whoosh followed immediately by a 'crack' and the pain sears across the middle of my naked buttocks. I grit my teeth as the agony peaks then wanes slightly.

"One, only three more of those to go!" she sneers with venom.

Another whoosh. I tense myself.

"Aaahhhh," I scream. The pain is even worse. I just want it to be over.

"Quiet!" she commands and then whispers in my ear: "You're trembling, trembling like a leaf, the money's mine!"

The third swish of the cane lands making me feel as though a red-hot poker has been laid across it and it takes every ounce of my crumbling resolve not to straighten up but I remain in position despite the searing pain.

"Hmmm, looks like I've lost the money, and that pisses me off, so this is to remember me by!" She sounds genuinely annoyed by that.

There's a pause - I think she is taking a couple of steps back – and I brace myself for the last cruel stroke…

Whoosh!

I cry out loud with the agony - it is as though I have been cut with a sword and simultaneously my legs straighten pushing the armchair a couple of inches forward.

"You've cheated. I demand another stroke!"

I can't take anymore; my buttocks are aflame with pain.

"Okay, okay, I've made you suffer enough, come on, give me a cuddle!" her tone is soft now.

I turn round and hug her, tell her how much I love and worship her.

"Let me take away some of the pain now, darling," she utters soothingly.

She takes my hand in hers and then leads me gently across the room to the long leather settee. She sits herself down on the cushions and then beckons me to lie across her lap.

She takes my achingly hard penis in her hands, kisses it, and then slowly at first begins to rub it up and down. I groan with the pleasure. She increases tempo and within a few seconds I climax strongly calling out her name…

"My, you were horny I've never seen you so stiff before and your spunk shoot so far. I shall have to cane you again and then get you to fuck me but," espying the sorry state of my buttocks laced with red and purple stripes as I stand up to clean myself off, "we shall perhaps wait a bit!"

God! I love that woman: cruel, loving, and avaricious.

I put the notes back in my wallet and promise to treat her to a curry. I kind of like my life hot and spicy…