Conrad’s Caning

This story by trishah is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.

Conrad’s Can­ing

By trishah

I’ve sort of been hiber­nat­ing since The Sadist Dom moved back to Cal­i­for­nia in June. I’ve been miss­ing him ter­ri­bly. But last week a good friend invited me to go with him to a play party and I decided to go. The party was last night.

Now, I don’t play pub­licly. I mean, I have. But that was with The Sadist Dom because he had a way of insist­ing. **blin­kety wink wink wink** But it’s not my norm.

So we went to this party and I was pleas­antly sur­prised to find that I knew many of the folks there. I adored the set up.….lots of play space, lots of “sta­tions” and equip­ment. And a hot tub out back which was also the smok­ers paradise.

My friend and I were sit­ting on a bench along a wall, watch­ing a Domme play music on two subs who were hold­ing on to side by side crosses (that was *won­der­ful* to watch!) when a man came into the room. My friend said, “There’s Con­rad and his entourage.”

I looked. Con­rad is in his mid­dle years, not tall, but hand­some and with a cer­tain pres­ence. He was wear­ing a gor­geous laven­der silk poet’s shirt with huge bil­low­ing sleeves. I told my friend I wanted that shirt. He said that Con­rad wears it all the time so he didn’t think he’d give it up. And he pro­ceeded to tell me about Conrad’s can­ing abilities.

At first I just lis­tened but my friend knows me well and knew that it had been a long time for me. He also knows that I don’t just “play” with folks. My play is usu­ally in a rela­tion­ship. But still he went on about this guy’s can­ing and sug­gested that I go tell Con­rad I wished to “expe­ri­ence” his abil­i­ties first hand. We ban­tered back and forth about this for quite some time, my resolve weak­en­ing and my desire height­en­ing with each quip.

So I gave in and went up to stand in the group sur­round­ing this icon, Con­rad, think­ing to wait my turn for his atten­tion. He was so busy that I chick­ened out and lit­er­ally ran back to my friend, ter­ri­bly embarrassed.

A few min­utes later my friend gained Conrad’s atten­tion and over he came. We were intro­duced, with my friend mak­ing the over­ture for me. I am not usu­ally a timid woman but I was almost par­a­lyzed. **grin** A nice start. It seems that Con­rad was inter­ested and said he would be back in a bit.

Con­rad was very gen­tle and under­stand­ing of my dis­com­fort dur­ing our nego­ti­a­tions for this scene. He explains things thor­oughly. His ques­tions showed great respect for me and his desire to know of any prob­lem areas he needed to avoid, both phys­i­cal and men­tal. After a bit of this, though, I told him I was bor­ingly nor­mal and there sim­ply weren’t any. *laughing*

One thing did come up because of his thor­ough ques­tion­ing, though. And it’s an inter­est­ing point. It seems that he’s been a sen­sa­tion player for a hun­dred years but has just been involv­ing D/​s into it for the last year or so. My expe­ri­ence has been the reverse, begin­ning with D/​s and just recently involv­ing more SM into it. We agreed to put D/​s into this scene with him using it to experiment.

He then said, “Lose the clothes.” Now, this is a small sen­tence. But for me, the world stopped. arg. Naked. In front of a kazil­lion peo­ple. I am not fond of this. He doesn’t know it. I bat­ten down the hatches and lose the clothes. As I lie down on the bench, I admit my dis­com­fort to him. He tells me about peo­ple and skin and bod­ies. I can’t say I was really lis­ten­ing, but it did relax me.

So did how he began. He inter­est­ingly began with a hands on mas­sage. My back, my bot­tom, my thighs, my calves, feet. He rubbed and jig­gled and tapped with the out­side edge of his hands. It felt won­der­ful. And he explained as he did it how he wanted me to relax and about breath­ing prop­erly and lots of stuff. Of course, I just wanted him to hit me…**grin**

While he was doing this I told him about The Sadist Dom and it turns out that Con­rad knew him! He’d played at TSD’s house in LA a while back. I felt more com­fort­able than ever.

Then he began tap­ping with a cane. I could feel that it was one of those light, very stingy ones.….the kind I always tell peo­ple I’m not fond of. He tapped and tapped me all over. Then there were harder taps but still, they were only taps. He used his hands as he caned me. Run­ning his hand down my back, over my bot­tom, hold­ing my leg, stuff like that. As the taps inten­si­fied, he would occa­sion­ally run his whole arm over my back. Now I know why he wears a silk poet’s blouse all the time! That sen­sa­tion is won­der­ful! He began learn­ing my body and it’s responses.

He’d arranged the bench so he could access me from both sides. I noticed the first time he switched sides, but not after that. I think he used a sheep skin thingie on a stick, too, to stroke me. He moved me to a place where I wasn’t think­ing about my responses any­more. But I know my bot­tom was com­ing up, my back arch­ing. He would grab my neck or shoul­der and hold it firmly and cane. Or grab my hair, pulling my head back (oh god!) and my bot­tom would come up and he’d cane harder and faster. I still can’t say any of this hurt, except for cer­tain spots that he seemed to like and con­cen­trated on. I think they call them “sweet spots”. **grin** He caned the inside of my thighs, some­times hold­ing my leg apart when I tried to close them. He caned the edge of the crevice between my cheeks, too. But how could he not with me lift­ing my bot­tom, offer­ing it so sweetly. **groan**

Then he whis­pered to me, “I want you to take some deep breaths now.” And I knew he was going to hit me. And he did. And it hurt. And it was wonderful!

He took a cou­ple of breaks when he thought I was get­ting too excited. Dur­ing one of these, we talked about how my wires are crossed…*laughing* He has an inter­est­ing the­ory about how most peo­ple have sep­a­rate wires for sex­ual stuff and wires for D/​s stuff and wires for SM stuff. And some­times a cou­ple of those wires cross in folks. He seems to think it’s not too often that all of those wires are con­nected in a per­son, and I am one of those. It’s **all** con­nected for me. D/​s is sen­sual, SM is sex­ual, sex needs to be D/​s and SM makes it deli­cious. I think he had a good time know­ing he was mak­ing me wet­ter than hell, too.….

At one point he also men­tioned that my responses were not those of an inex­pe­ri­enced per­son but that my skin was. I was amazed that he could tell that I’d not played in a very long time by my skin, though I have heard and believe that it makes a difference.

Towards the end, he brought out an African Sjam­bok. I like thud more than sting so he tapped me with it a few times and I said it felt great. He got this gleam in his eye and said he wasn’t fin­ished yet. There came three good strokes, each with his admon­ish­ment to “breath”. They hurt. He does this won­der­ful thing of just doing noth­ing after a good stroke to give you time. It’s lovely. Then he said that he was an aes­thetic kind of guy and needed to give me one more to “make it sym­met­ri­cal” and that was the hard­est stroke. He told me it was a medium. *groan*

We talked some more and then I got dressed. I’m not too sure what we talked about, though…**laughing** I felt won­der­ful! It didn’t hurt to sit, either. Endor­phins! I think he enjoyed him­self and I’m sure I did. I didn’t get to meet Mar­garet but I enjoyed one of her truffles…mmmmm!

When I got home and pulled my jeans off, there was a lit­tle place that stuck to my bot­tom where I was seep­ing a lit­tle blood. Boy, my skin is really out of shape! But the col­ors are start­ing to show and it’s lovely. **huge grin** And yes, sit­ting this morn­ing is done a bit gin­gerly. All in all, I highly rec­om­mend Con­rad if you wish to expe­ri­ence a good can­ing. But you have to get in line behind me. *laughing*

trishah, the well caned cheeky one.

Per­mis­sion is granted to old​-tom​.com to host this story col­lec­tion. This essay is the prop­erty and copy­right 1998 of trishah all rights reserved. Please don’t repost this or make it pub­licly acces­si­ble via FTP, mail server, or archive site with­out explicit per­mis­sion. Per­mis­sion is granted for one hard copy for per­sonal use.

 

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