all materials are copyright serijules unless otherwise noted.

please do not copy or reprint without consent of the owner.

 

This is a story Abel and I started writing together after he emailed me apon reading some of my stories on the newsgroups and enjoying my style. I was flattered and honoured to write with him, and gained a wonderful friend out of the process :)

It's taken us all of oh, a year and a half to write this, but what the heck, enjoy <g>

The Cane and Abel

“Dear Seri,

Good news! I wanted to let you know that my business trip to the States is definitely on for next week. I’ll be flying out from London on Saturday morning, and should be at my hotel by about 3pm. I’ll be staying in the Ritz-Carlton, where I’ve reserved a suite.

Sooooo… if you do really want to meet up, and do really want to experience for real what we’ve chatted about by e-mail for so long, I’d love to see you. But I do mean what I say - as an Englishman, I understand what applying sound discipline is really about. And if you do come to stay with me, you really must expect to end up experiencing what we’ve discussed at first hand (and believe me, it won’t only be my hand you’ll be experiencing!).

Anyway, do write back and let me know if you do want to come and stay on Saturday night. If you do, I suggest you call the hotel from your mobile once you get into the City Centre, and ask them to put you through to me. I can then let you know my suite number. I do so want to meet you for real after all of our chats.

Write back!

Bye for now

Abel.”

"This is it." he thought, his finger hovering above the keyboard. "We really are going to get to meet." To get to know one another at last. To see how far their shared taste in cyber-spanking (and whatever else follows a good, sensual spanking!) could convert to real-life.

He so want to meet up with her.

Abel hit SEND, and sit back, wondering how quickly she would reply, hoping and praying that she’d say ‘yes’.

* * *

Seri saw the return address before she even opened the email, and she felt a familiar flutter in her chest. She knew what the email said, and her finger nervously hovered over the read button while she willed her heart to stop pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath and tapped her finger twice on the mouse…a little harder than she needed to… bringing up the body of the message. The words were neatly typed and there for her to see, but at first look were just a jumble of black and white emotions, matching her own inner turmoil. Seri chided herself, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, just tell him you changed your mind!”

Seri bit her lip and forced herself to focus on Abel’s words….so calm, so simple….just like all his emails. He seemed so pulled together, yet easy going, and had instantly put Seri to ease since the very first note he had written her. “How can he be so CALM?” she thought to herself as she read his last line, ‘I do so want to meet you…’

Seri smiled despite herself and took another deep breath to confirm her instincts. She DID want to do this. They had become fast friends, spending many hours in emails and instant messages talking back and forth, everything from his gentle chidings and teasings, to serious discussions about both of their urges and desires. Seri wanted to explore this in person…the words and fantasies no longer satisfied her.

She hit reply, typing hesitantly at first, soon her fingers flying over the keyboard and she typed a short and sweet reply.

“Dear Abel,

That’s good news! I do wish to meet with you and look forward to it. I will ask the hotel to put me through to you as soon as I check in, and we can arrange a time to meet. I should be in about 6:00 pm or shortly thereafter. I will be wearing red! (how cliché, giggle)

On a more serious note, I do understand and accept the discipline that you see fit to apply. I will arrive prepared to yield to your hand…and whatever else you choose to enforce this discipline with.

See you soon

xoxo,

Seri “

Seri looked her words over for a moment, positioning her mouse over the SEND button and closing her eyes. This was it.

She clicked the mouse once.

* * *

Abel had to admit that his heart was pounding as he walked through US customs. How on earth would he explain one or two of the contents of his luggage to them? ("Yes, Sir, I've just brought them along in case I happen to need them to discipline any young ladies I might meet"??!!!). Fortunately they all looked half-asleep, and the sight of a hassled but respectable-looking English businessman didn't stir them into action.

The cab ride was quick, and the reception as smooth and professional as one would expect of a good hotel. Abel checked for messages, to see if Seri had arrived, but clearly she hadn't.

It was only mid-afternoon: as he went up to the Executive floor of the hotel, he remembered that she'd promised to arrive by early evening, and if she had any real idea of what was in store for her, she'd probably not want to be early! Of course, Seri did have SOME idea.... they'd written about it enough, but Abel did wonder whether she REALLY understood what it would be like to be on the receiving end of what he had in mind.

He found his room, and clicked the plastic card into the door, wondering offhand why the hotels never used proper keys any more. The suite was great - comfortable, and more importantly spacious: plenty of room to swing one's arm!

He unpacked, smiling as he looked at some of the items he'd brought with him, which he placed in the top drawer of the dressing table. Then he took a shower, changed into a jacket and tie, poured himself a long drink and settled down in a chair to read some documents for the meeting he'd be attending the following day.

It must have been a good hour later that the phone rang. A female voice. Seri's, of course. So good to actually speak to one another for the first time.

"Hi. Abel?"

"Yes. Seri?"

"Sure. I've arrived. I'm in room 502." She sounded nervous.

"Excellent. I'm looking forward to seeing you. You're not having second thoughts?"

A pause? Maybe? "No. No, not at all. Do you want to get together. Have a drink - something to eat?"

"Not only do I want to get together, but there are some aspects of your behavior that we need to discuss before dinner, young lady. I'm in suite 1011. You have five minutes. I expect you to be on time, and I expect you to be looking smart."

And he put down the phone.

And sat back.

And waited.

* * *

Seri hung up the phone and bit her lip. There was no turning back now, no changing her mind, nothing left to do but meet him. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress, checking her reflection in the mirror. Her long auburn hair fell over her bared shoulders, a slim silver chain accenting her neck. The crimson dress showed off her curves nicely, the skirt falling around her ankles, the silky material felt good against her cool skin. She doubted it would be cool much longer.

Grabbing her purse before she lost nerve, she headed toward the elevator, heart doing flip flops in her chest. The elevator seemed to take forever and stop on nearly every floor; Seri remembered Abel’s warning to not be late and fidgeted with the strap of her purse, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to remain calm. What did he mean about discussing her behavior? She was hungry, having not eaten all day, and hoped they would grab some dinner first.

The DING! of the elevator arriving as the proper floor startled her out of her thoughts and she stepped out into the hall looking up and down the rows of doors. “It had to have been more than five minutes since I hung up the phone.” she muttered to herself, finding the proper hallway and striding down, glancing at the numbers perched on the doors as she passed. Finally she reached #1011, took a deep breath and knocked.

Abel answered the door almost instantly, and Seri smiled at him shyly. The first thing she noticed was his eyes…deep and intense, sweeping over her figure and causing a flush to creep into her cheeks as he nodded, smiling at her. He held out his hand to her, and Seri relaxed as she slipped her own smaller hand into his large palms, suddenly realizing this was the hand that would be spanking her before long. They hadn’t spoke yet, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. She was instantly at ease with him, just as she had been online.

Abel lead her over to the bed and motioned for her to sit. Seri perched on the bed and watched him, trying to read his face for reaction…for anything. His quite, stern voice broke the silence. “Seri, what time is it?”

Seri squirmed and glanced at the clock by the bed. It read 7:10. They had hung up the phone at 7:01. She was 4 minutes late. She silently cursed herself for taking the elevator and looked at the floor, mumbling softly “Its 7:10.”

Abel nodded, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his, continuing in that infuriatingly calm manner. “And what did I tell you on the phone 9 minutes ago?” Seri fidgeted on the bed, trying to avoid his burning gaze as she answered in a tiny voice. “That I had five minutes and not to be late…”

Abel nodded, “You are four minutes late young lady. Dinner is going to have to wait, we have some things to discuss and your tardiness just now tells me that we need to start our discussions sooner rather than later. Isn’t that right?”

Seri hmphed softly, biting her lip to keep back any retort that would get her in any more trouble. Suddenly, she wasn’t so hungry anymore.

She looked up at him, and he could see the fear glistening in her eyes…the moments hesitation and inner struggle to convince herself that it was okay and she really could do this. He rubbed his thumbs gently in circles over her shoulder blades reassuringly while she pondered his questions, feeling her slowly start to relax.

Abel looked into her eyes. "Are you nervous, Seri?"

"A little...yes."

"And why's that?"

"Because... because... of what we're talked about on the Internet.... and because I was late...."

He turned, and took her face in his hands. "And what did we talk about on the Internet, my sweet?"

"About my behavior. My attitude." She muttered.

"And what did we agree should happen to young ladies whose behaviour and attitude are like yours."

She paused. Bit her lip. "We agreed that they should be spanked"

He corrected her. "No, Seri. Not just spanked. SOUNDLY spanked." He moved his hands away. "So I'd like you to stand up"

Slowly, nervously, she got up from the bed, uncertain where to go. He pointed towards the large, full length mirror, and she walked towards it. "Face it, with your hands on your head."

"Yes, Sir." He smiled to himself, noticing the 'sir'.

"That's a lovely dress, Seri."

"Thank you. I bought it specially." she informed him with a shy smile.

"That would have been a good investment," Abel chuckled, "if you'd been likely to wear it much."

He walked up to her, behind her, very close, and placed his hands on the outside of her thighs. The skirt crumpled beneath his palms, as he pulled her back towards him, his mouth almost touching her neck, her backside pressing into him. He whispered into her ear: "Are you ready to be disciplined, Seri?"

She nodded. His hands came up and rested on her bare shoulders, gently massaging them. "Take off your dress."

Seri took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. She slowly unzipped the back of the dress, slipping the thin spaghetti straps off her shoulders and sliding the material down her trembling body. She hadn’t realized she was this nervous, but her shaky hands betrayed her. The dress fell in a bundle at her feet and she stepped out of it, Abel’s hands sliding off her shoulders as she moved forward. Her chest was bare, she had not worn a bra because the dress had support, and she crossed her arms in front of her, suddenly shy of her nakedness.

“Hands at your side Seri. There's no hiding from me tonight.” She obeyed, hesitantly lowering her arms to her side, a flush growing from her cheeks and spreading down to her chest. Her nipples hardened in the cool air, a shiver running through her body as she stood before him in only her panties.

Abel gently turned her around, examining her figure, his eyes traveling from her eyes and down her chest, admiring her small, round breasts and the smoothness of her skin. Her hips curved gracefully down into long legs. The cream panties she wore clung to her hips. He smiled, nodding his approval, continuing in a soft, firm voice that sent shivers down her spine and caused goosebumps to prick her arms.

“Tell me what you deserve Seri.” He requested, eyes locked to hers, holding her gaze.

A moment's silence. Both looking into one another's eyes. Knowing that this was the point of no return.

She broke the gaze, nibbling on her lip and staring at the floor again, “I deserve to be punished, Sir.”

“Yes, Seri. Quite right. You're learning. You deserve to be punished." He paused, and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes back to his. "After all of our conversations in the past few months about your behaviour. After all we'd talked about. And you turn up LATE? Not only do you deserve to be punished, young lady, but you are going to be punished, and punished severely. So, you tell me. How many strokes do you deserve to start with, for being late, Seri?” he prompted.

“Umm, I was four minutes late…” She trailed off, leaving the question unanswered.

“I don't actually care whether you were four minutes late, or four hours. The point is that you were late. That you disobeyed me. That I seem to be starting to find that your behaviour now we've met is quite as disappointing as I'd feared it might be. So we are going to discuss that, firsthand.”

She gritted her teeth at the lecture, glaring at him with a soft hmph.

Slowly, he placed his hands back on her shoulders, gently holding them and then allowed his hands to glide down her back until they rested on her hips.

He leant forward, his chin almost on her shoulder as he whispered into her left ear. "I've told you what I do to young ladies who are disobedient, and you should have considered that before you were late."

She nodded and mumbled "Yes, Sir."

"And you were already in trouble to start with. Those delays in answering e-mail's. Your cheek and insolence on Instant Messenger. And then - on top of that - to be LATE?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, really I am." She looked at her feet, a blush creeping to her cheeks.

Still standing close to her, so she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, he slipped his hands down further into the elastic of her panties and started to slide them down, over her buttocks.

And then he stepped slightly back, opened his palm and cracked it across her right buttock, watching as she jumped slightly into the air at the surprise of the blow, and then looking with satisfaction at the reddening outline of his fingers.

He walked over to the large, double bed, and sat on the pure white linen sheets. "I'd like you to take off your panties altogether, and come and bend over my lap, Seri."

She hesitated, tugging her panties back up almost nervously.

"And I mean NOW, young lady."

Seri stood there, biting her lip and playing with the elastic band of her panties defiantly. Suddenly, he was on his feet again, and grabbing both her wrists hard in his left hand. He pulled her towards the bed, unbalancing her, and in a practiced maneuver threw her over his lap.

He started spanking immediately, hard blows, causing her to kick her legs into the air in protest as she wriggled within his grasp. "I am not going to take your attitude any more, Seri. The time for misbehavior stops right here, right now." he lectured as he continued to spank.

Seri continued to squirm and kick, the surprise at being thrown over his lap causing a rush of defiance in her. Abel's strong hands rained down on her still pantied bottom, which offered little protection from the sting. He kept a steady pace; drawing gasps and squeals from the lady draped over his lap. He paused after a few dozen smacks, his hand rubbing gently over her silken globes, his fingers running under the edge of her panties. Seri shivered slightly at the light touch.

“Are you ready to obey me, Seri?”

Seri sniffled, nodding sulkily. “Yes Sir…”

“Then I want you to stand up, remove your panties, and drape yourself back over my lap.”

Seri slid off his lap, brushing her long auburn locks away from her face, trembling as she tried to get a grip on her nervousness. She subconsciencly placed her hands over her tummy, as if trying to calm the butterflies that had taken refuge there. He watched as she slowly slipped her panties down her legs, stepping out of them and standing before him, a trembling image of flushed, creamy flesh. She hesitated again, a firm glance from him spurring her into action and she draped herself back over his lap, presenting her now bare bottom.

Abel reached beside them on the bed, selecting a small hairbrush-style paddle. Seri squirmed, her body pressing into his. Abel placed his hand on the small of her back, quieting her without so much as a word. He settled the smooth paddle against her warm flesh, the new sensation causing her to gasp in recognition of the coolness of the wood.

SMACK!

Abel raised his arm and connected the paddle with her right cheek, finding its target just as quickly with the left.

“Ouch!” Seri whimpered, her breath coming in endearing gasps as Abel continued to warm her bottom with the paddle, bringing forth more whimpers and yelps as the smacks came harder and faster. He waited until he had her bottom a glowing hue before stopping, and continuing his lecture.

“Young ladies like yourself need to learn discipline, Seri. There is no room for sassiness or disobedience here with me tonight.”

Seri whispered “Yes sir..” She desperately wanted to rub her bottom, and fidgeted nervously in his lap. He hadn’t mentioned the cane as of yet…Seri wondered foolishly if he had forgotten it. Not that it would matter, he had plenty to punish her with!

Abel paused, looking at the satisfactory glow of her buttocks. He waited, knowing that the silence and anticipation could only increase the young woman's apprehension of what might be to come.

After a moment, she whispered: "Have we finished, Sir?" Hopeful, pleading.

"Yes," he replied. "Yes, Seri, we have. Please stand up."

Nonplused, she rose to her feet, her hands reaching first to cover her front, and then drawn irrespective of any embarrassment to her burning behind. "T..t...thank you, Sir."

"Not at all, Seri. And thank you for your politeness. It seems like my lesson is working."

She smirked to herself and replied, "Yes, Sir."

"Now. As I said, we have finished the spanking over my knee. We are now going to move on to the next stage of your discipline."

She looked startled. "But sir... I mean, I thought we were finished. Completely."

"Did I say we had finished completely?"

She stared at the floor. "No, Sir."

He took her face in his hands, and lifted it till she looked into his eyes. "Only I will say when we're finished. And we won't be finished for some time yet, Seri. Not until I've made damned sure that you're taught a lesson you won't forget."

He walked over to the wardrobe, opened it, and took out a long, leather strap. "Have you ever been punished with a tawse, young lady?"

Her eyes widened. "No, Sir, Please, Sir...."

He pointed. "I want you to kneel on the bed."

Under his gaze, she obeyed.

"Knees twelve inches apart, then bend forward until your forehead and elbows are touching the sheets."

She hesitated - a mistake, as swiftly the lash cracked through the air across her behind, giving her her first taste of its sting and causing her to cry out - first in shock, then as the pain of the stroke welled up. Resisting (just) the temptation to clutch her buttocks, she leant forward gingerly - and as she did so, realized what a view the position must expose to her punisher.

She felt the cool leather against the inside of her left upper leg, and drew breath as he started to slowly tap it back and forward on alternate thighs. His voice was firm: "Let me explain. The tawse was traditional in Britain, but mainly in Scotland, where it was the main form of corporal punishment in many schools. I find it a most satisfactory instrument for making badly behaved ladies start to realize how seriously I take their misdemeanors. I shall give you eighteen strokes, and you will count them aloud and thank me after each one."

She gasped in surprise - eighteen? Eighteen? That first one had been bad enough. But in spite of herself, she nodded, feeling the strap still tapping her thighs, and then shuddered as she felt him slowly run the leather upwards from her left thigh, tracing an arc down across her most private areas - where it paused briefly - and down onto the inside of her right thigh. And then he moved the tawse away, stepped back, and cracked it down across her buttocks with a degree of force that had only been hinted at by his initial warning blow.

Seri howled and scampered forward on the bed, gulping when she looked over her shoulder into Abel's disapproving face. He clenched his jaw and simply waited for her to get back into position, which Seri did so, and quickly. Her body trembled as she softly whispered “I'm s-sorry Sir.”

Abel nodded, although she could no longer see him, and informed her “That cost you two more young lady, and we shall start again, bringing the total to 20. Do not let it happen again.”

"Whatever." Seri muttered sulkily.

Abel sharply demanded, “What was that Seri?”

“Nothing Sir."

He stepped back again, the tawse cracking down across her buttocks once more with the force of the earlier blow, and Seri squealed as the strap bit sharply into her warmed up flesh. She gripped the bedsheets in her sweaty palms, vowing not to break her stance, and gasped out “One! GEEZ!” He waited until she muttered out a sullen "Thank you Sir.", noting the condescending tone to her voice.

Abel brought the strap down again, barely letting Seri catch her breath before the next blow landed perfectly below the previous. Seri bit her lip, flinching at the sensation and muttering sulkily, “Two…Sir…Thank you Sir….” She no longer cared that her position exposed her most private parts to him as she struggled to keep her composure, willing her body to obey while her mind screamed profanities and defiance's that her lips struggled to contain. Oh how she wanted to lash back!

At nine strokes, she lost her composure and squealed out "DAMN IT, THAT HURTS!", pounding her fists into the mattress with an angry yell.

Abel didn't say anything, just waited for her tantrum to pass calmly. They would have time later to deal with it. Seri realized after a few moments of silence that her tantrum was not going to stop him from finishing the strokes, and she muttered tearfully, "Oh just get it over with!"

Abel shook his head at her insolence and continued to rain the blows down on her bottom, leaving red streaks upon pale pink flesh. The sounds of Seri's whimpers and gasps soon gave way to wails and pleadings, yet she counted each stroke and thanked him, her body tensing in anticipation of the next. After 15 strokes, the tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she hiccupped her replies. Finally, she choked out a relieved “TWENTY!” Sir, thank you sir!” and buried her face into the already damp sheets, the nervousness, defiance and tenseness fading away for the first time that evening, the profanities she had struggled to contain only 18 strokes earlier long forgotten.

Abel set the tawse aside, sitting on the bed next to the chastened woman and laying a hand on her trembling back soothingly. She jumped slightly at his touch, but relaxed as he rubbed her back and bottom tenderly, willing her to relax. Soon her breathing settled back to a more normal pace, her body trembling less...but her bottom still glowing a warm red. Abel smiled as he continued to soothe his palm over her strapped bottom, noticing the gleam of wetness on her thighs. Perhaps she wasn't quite as chastened as he had thought.

"Are you ready for the next part of your punishment, Seri?" His voice was firm, but the gentle, trusting undertone that Seri needed to hear was clear. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, not trusting herself to speak too quickly. He was patient, and finally she nodded, her face still buried in the pillows.

"Look at me, Seri, and tell me what you deserve."

She turned flushed cheeks and tear-reddened eyes towards him, knowing better than to avoid his gaze, and answered softly, "I deserve to be caned, Sir, please punish me with your cane."

Abel nodded and murmured his approval, his hand still stroking her back and bottom, giving her time to let the gravity of her request sink in. This was a punishment, a punishment she had long ago admitted she needed, craved, deserved...but did not necessarily want. He intended to give her everything she so richly deserved.

She got to her feet shakily with his help, her emotions running wild on her. Her punishment was hurting far worse than she had ever imagined, but to her surprise, she could feel a tingle of arousal between her legs. She blushed a little, wondering if he would be angry at her obvious wetness, or pleased.

Abel turned away, and walked to the cupboard, from where he selected a cane, showing his charge the slender implement. It looked so harmless, so simple. He pulled out the straight backed chair from under the desk, and motioned for her to get in position. Seri hesitated momentarily, but a quick look from him spurred her to obey, and she quickly bent over the back of the chair, gripping the legs and spreading her feet slightly. Her hair fell into her face, and she was glad of the little privacy it allowed her.

"Tell me why you are being punished Seri."

She licked her dry lips and answered softly, "I have been misbehaving, Sir."

He settled the cane across her bottom, a soft tap to the top of his canvas. "You didn't answer me earlier when I asked how many strokes you deserved. So perhaps you'd care to answer me now? How many strokes do misbehaved young ladies get, Seri?"

Seri gritted her teeth and responded "A dozen, Sir."

"Yes, Seri, a dozen strokes on a well-strapped bottom. Please count the strokes and thank me properly. And if you move out of position, we will start over again. Is that clear?"

"Y...yes Sir."

"Tell me again why you are here."

A pause, a gulp. "I am a naughty young lady Sir, and naughty young ladies get caned."

He smiled again. She was learning her lesson well, and they had barely begun.

He stepped back, flexing the cane in his hands, walking to Seri's left side. He whipped the cane through the air - testing it, but still making her flinch. He tapped the cane gently across her buttocks again, waiting, pausing, allowing her to contemplate what was to come.

"I'm going to cane you very hard, Seri. I'm going to punish you for your insolence, for your brattishness AND for your disobedience. You've been asking for this for a very long time. And now it's time to stop talking, and start…."

CRACK!

"…correcting your behaviour."

She gasped, the shock of the blow surprising her, and the searing pain that followed surprising her even more. He observed, calmly, watching as the white line that the cane had imprinted against her strapped red buttocks darkened, as the red tramlines started to crystallize. He listened to her breathing - deep, fast, gulping for air, gulping away her temptation to cry out.

And he paused. Waiting. Watching as she settled down, quieted. Silent.

And then he delivered the next stroke. Low, just above the top of her thighs, the rod tracing its mark across her bottom. A sharp intake of breath; she rocked backward than forward again, controlling herself, maintaining her position against all her instincts, just settling when…

THWACK! Whipping it down equally low, the cane line nestling just above the trace of the previous stroke. He smiled to himself, satisfied with his work, and satisfied with the low groan that came from Seri.

And then he walked away, set down the cane and sat on the edge of the bed. Watched her. Waited again. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Longer. A minute. Then he spoke: "Young lady, I wouldn't usually remind you, but you do realize that until you start counting, none of these are going towards your total of 12?"

Seri felt the blood rush out of her face at Abel's reminder, suddenly realizing that she had been so focused on processing the sensations that she hadn't obeyed his order to count the strokes outloud. She clenched her jaw, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She felt out of control for a moment, wanting once again to lash out, yet at the same time she struggled to embrace that submissivness, a fuzzy beginning of a mental state that she needed to embrace.

She let out the breath she had been holding with a rush, answering with a forced respectfulness, "I'm sorry Sir, thank you for reminding me."

Abel didn't reply for another long moment, leaving Seri squirming and fuming in her position over the chair. The first strokes had been hard, he had not started out lightly like he might have, as her attitude told him she needed to be put in her place from the start. Perhaps he wasn't getting through to her as much as he had hoped, given the tone to her reply.

He stood up, and placed his palm on the middle of her bare back. "Seri, we will start over," He informed her, ignoring the soft groan from her and continuing firmly, "and this time you WILL count the strokes."

Abel got up off the bed and moved his hand on Seri's shoulder, coaxing her out of her position and turning her towards him. Seri looked at him questioningly, her face still pale.

Abel lead her over to the bed, patting the mattress. "Face down."

Seri hesitated, curious about the change of position; but she obeyed, stretching out on the bed, clutching a pillow under her chest.

Abel waited until she settled, selecting a spot and bringing the cane down expertly on her backside, the stroke harder, more precise, then the previous ones.

The sudden swish of the cane distracted Seri, delaying the processing of the first stroke. She gasped loudly, her fingers digging into the pillow. The stroke stole her breath away momentarily, and she let out a low whimper, finally managing to count the stroke. "O...one Sir...Thank you Sir..."

Abel calmly moved to the other side of the bed, settling the cane below the fresh line on Seri's behind. She flinched, but relaxed a little at the preparation. The second stroke came just as hard as the first, a full arc that dug sharply into her bottom, blooming from a sharp sting of pain to a deep burn, leaving a puffy welt to form beneath the others laddered down her bottom.

"TWO, Sir! Thank you Sir!" she squealed.

Abel went about the punishment in a no-nonsense manner, giving the lady only a few moments to prepare for the next stroke, switching sides with each. Strokes three through six came swift and fierce, and Seri counted out the strokes tearfully and thanked him after each one, her fingers now clutching the pillow in a death grip, all traces of insolence gone from her manner.

When she'd talked to him on IM, she had anticipated the impact, the strength of the blow. But nothing, nothing had prepared her for that searing pain. Nothing had prepared her for the time he would take, pausing, watching, allowing the heat to build in her buttocks before the next blow THWACked against her.

The counting was hard, too. Getting the words out: trying not to stumble over them, not to cry. But more than that: without the counting, she'd be able to switch off. Blank her mind. Drift off, float, with the occasional interruption from his stick. Yet every blow forced her to switch her mind back on and count.

And count she did. Seven, eight, nine, ten. All measured strokes, the cane dancing across her backside, forming a rhythm, metronomically, a regular drum beat. He delivered them in quick succession, the rod cracking down harder than before, whipping, being drawn back, whipping again before she could open her mouth to cry, never mind tally the score. Taking her to a state of… of pain, but of intensity of another sort as well. Then those final two strokes. Measured once more. Allowing her to count once more, to thank him sincerely and tearfully through deep breaths, before he spoke, soothing her.. "You are a very brave girl Seri. I am proud of you."

Abel laid the cane aside and placed one soothing hand on her behind, the other soothing hand on the inside of her thigh.

Seri gasped out a sob as she realized it was over. It was over, she had been disciplined and truly FELT disciplined for the first time in her life. It was a relief that made her feel calm despite her trembling, aching body. she slowly eased out of her position and threw her arms around Abel, burying her tear-streaked face into his chest and hugging him. He held her, stroking her flushed, glistening flesh with his strong hands, running his fingers over the angry welts on her crimson bottom. Seri moaned into his chest, her body taking on a different sort of tenseness than her previous nervous stance as his hands continued to sooth and tickle at her flesh, awakening her body in ways she would never have thought possible after enduring so much pain.

Seri shifted and peered up at Abel through long lashes, her voice calm and sincere. "Thank you for punishing me Sir. I promise I'll be a good girl now."

Abel smiled and kissed her forehead, his hands still stroking her slowly, noticing how her thighs glistened with her arousal, feeling the heat rising off her bottom, hearing the enduring way she whimpered softly with each touch. "You are welcome Seri....you are very welcome."

He doubted she would be too well behaved for long.