Sandi's Lesson, Part 4

[MichiganHeadmaster]

Part 4

Sandi waited for what seemed like an eternity. She ran the complete gamut of emotions: loneliness, jealousy (that she was stuck in here while Carol had Tony all to herself), fear, anticipation, anxiety and helplessness. At times her anxiety approached panic. It would be bad enough to face a severe whipping with one of the supple canes on the table
in front of her; it would be far worse to be stuck here indefinitely if for some reason Tony didn’t return. She pulled on her restraints. The wrist straps were not ncomfortably tight, but her hands were not going to slip through the leather that held her arms pinned to the forward legs of the whipping bench. Nor were her feet going to slip through the ankle
straps. She was firmly in place, almost as though she were a part of the bench. She was at the mercy of anyone who would walk through the door, whether it was Tony, Carol, or anyone else who could make their way into the building, invited or uninvited. Suddenly she remembered the one novel that turned her on and scared the daylights out of her at the same time: Stephen King’s “Gerald’s Game”, the story of the husband and wife who
went to their remote cabin for their little bondage game and, after he had handcuffed her to the bed frame, she decided she didn’t really want to play. He ignored her pleas as though they were part of the game and began to force himself on her. She pushed him off of her with her legs with such force that he sustained a fatal heart attack, leaving her stuck and vulnerable for the rest of the novel.

Were Tony and Carol coming back? As much as she dreaded any more punishment, the idea of them not coming back filled her with dread. She pulled at her bonds some more. There was no way off the bench nor any way to prevent any intruder from having his or her way with her. Caning or no caning, Sandi hoped against hope to hear the door open soon. As she lay straddling the bench, Sandi began to notice every little itch all over
Her body. With no way to scratch, she just had to endure it. The sense of helplessness was overwhelming. And the longer she waited, the more she had to relieve herself. The champaign she had drank, barely enough to get her tipsy but plenty enough to have gotten her horny, had passed though her system and was screaming to get out. How long would she have to hold it? She couldn’t just pee where she was. She would be humiliated, and
would likely be punished more severely. Would Tony even let her go before commencing her caning? If not, she would surely lose control in front of them. She decided to beg for a potty break as soon as they returned, whenever that would be.

Finally, the sound of the knob turning and the door opening. Sandi, relieved, craned her neck around and watched Carol, clothing now disheveled, enter first with Tony right behind. Carol walked over to Sandi, caressed Sandi’s bare backside, then moved in front and looked Sandi in the eye. “I hope you were quite comfortable, dear,” she said. “If it seemed like we were gone a little longer than expected, it’s because we were. Tony likes to take it nice and slow with me.”

Sandi was now feeling humiliated in more ways than one. “Please, I’ve got to get up. If you don't let me pee first, I’ll lose control right here.”

“That’s up to Tony; he’s in charge right now. He’s made me hold it until he’s ready to let me go. And I’ve paid the price for having an accident, too. But I’ll bet he’ll go easy on you this time. I’ve put him in a great mood.”

“Sandi, you will go when I tell you to go. Carol is right, though. I won’t make you wait too long. Just before your caning starts, I’ll let you go. First, Carol needs to get you warmed up. I don’t like to use the cane without a good warm-up; it is much too severe.” While waiting, Sandi’s bottom had indeed “cooled down.” She just now realized that the sting from the hand spanking and paddling had completely worn off. In fact, her rosy cheeks were now a pale pink. As much as the spanking had hurt, Tony had exercised great restraint this time.

“Please, just let me up for a minute,” Sandi pleaded. Carol ignored her and walked to the table. She picked up the leather paddle, and slapped it against her palm a couple of times while Sandi watched. “This is going to be fun,” said Carol. Carol moved behind Sandi,
caressing her from her shoulders down to her lower back. She ran her hands over Sandi’s buttocks, while explaining what would happen next. “Sandi, you are going to receive twelve swats with this paddle and six strokes with the tawse. You will count each and every one after I give it, then you will say ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Is that clear?” “Yes,” said Sandi, fearful that she might not be able to comply. Carol rubbed her some more, then took a step away.

Carol held the paddle lightly against Sandi’s left cheek. Sandi tensed against her restraints. Carol reared her hand back, waited a second or two, then brought the paddle back hard against Sandi’s bare cheek, snapping it at the last second to make it more effective. Sandi gasped. “One! Thank you, ma’am!” she shouted. She tensed up for the
next one. Carol selected a spot on Sandi’s right cheek and swung the paddle again. “Two! Thank you, ma’am!” The sting was incredible. She didn’t know how she would last through ten more. But she knew she had no choice. She steeled herself. The third one landed on her left cheek, in the same spot as before. “Three! Thank you, ma’am!” she shouted again, tears forming anew. Carol aimed for the right cheek again. After
catching her breath, Sandi counted again and thanked Carol again. The next swat landed on the outermost part of Sandi’s right cheek. She yelled the count again. The next three were on the underside of Sandi’s left cheek. Sandi screamed the count now, looking up tearfully at Tony, who was clearly aroused again.

Sandi lasted through the first dozen somehow. Carol exchanged the paddle for the tawse. Sandi held her bladder as tightly as she could. “Six strokes with the tawse, Sandi,” said Tony. “Count them the same as before. If you lose control, you will get six more.” Carol took her place behind Sandi again. She stood one step to Sandi’s left, and aimed. The first stroke landed across both buttocks. “One, thank you ma’am!” she screamed, desperate to avoid any additional strokes. Carol paused for thirty seconds or so to allow the sting to penetrate. Sandi’s tears flowed freely once again. Carol aimed the second stroke to curl around Sandi’s right hip. Sandi screamed but managed to correctly count the stroke. Carol took an additional step to her left before aiming the third stroke across Sandi’s left buttock. The tips struck the inner part of Sandi’s right cheek. She screamed longer now. It took fifteen or twenty seconds for Sandi to regain control to count the stroke. A few seconds longer and Carol would have made her retake the stroke. The next one landed diagonally across her left cheek, but this time the tips just nicked Sandi’s pussy lips. The scream this time was shrill. And she waited too long to count the stroke. “Time’s up, Sandi. Let’s do that one again,” taunted Carol. “No! Please!” screamed Sandi, holding her bladder as tightly as she could. She was determined to count the last
three correctly. The next stroke also landed across Sandi’s left cheek, again striking deep into her crevice. “Four! Thank you, ma’am!!” Sandi screamed again. Another stroke across both buttocks followed, again counted correctly. The last one was delivered across the underside of both buttocks, and Sandi screamed the count again. This part was over.

“Very good, Sandi,” said Tony. I think we are ready for the final part of your punishment. Carol, please prepare a pan for Sandi.”

“No, please!” sobbed Sandi. “Let me go to the bathroom.” Carol retrieved a narrow hospital-like pan. Tony raised Sandi by the hips while Carol slid the pan between Sandi’s legs. “I don’t think privacy is much of an issue right now, Sandi,” said Tony. You have two minutes to relieve yourself, then we will continue. I suggest you take the opportunity
now.” With any sense of pride now vanished, Sandi proceeded to fill the pan while Carol watched. “Good girl,” said Carol, taking the pan to the washroom to empty it. She then returned and mopped up the few spilled drops with a tissue.

Tony picked up the more slender of the two canes. He swished it through the air a few times. Sandi instinctively flinched. The main event was about to begin.


CONTINUED IN PART 5