My First Caning

I’m stripped, and tied and bent across the chair,
My bottom trembles at the gentle touch,
Of the cane you’ve placed across my quivering cheeks,
And the moment of anticipation fills my universe.

Ready? I nod, and a wisp of stray, blonde hair,
Falls across my shame burned face,
Ready. The touch vanishes and I imagine,
The cane. Poised, ready to descend.

I shut my eyes, my bottom trembles. Swish,
Such an innocent, nothing kind of  sound,
The cane lands across my cheeks with a snap,
And my body leaps at its command.

I strain against the dressing gown cords,
Holding me in place for your pleasure,
The air leaves my lungs in a gasp, transformed,
To a moan as the burning sting takes over my world.

My eyes open and widen in disbelief,
And tears start to run down my face,
Behind me, the cane is raised,
Ready for the next stroke.