The cane: no, really … tell me what you really think!
A smart and fun spanko blogger named Graham (who is “a young American woman currently living in Eastern Europe”) has the cane on her mind. (And who doesn’t, really?!) In a recent post she demands:
So, be honest. Tell me what the cane does to you. No euphemisms, no down-playing the effects — and no exaggerating them, either. Or it’ll be canings for the lot of you!
Alright then! The truth, and nothing but the truth! (Although I still want my caning!)
A caning hurts. Quite a lot. It’s a white-hot slash of pure pain that shocks you upon impact … and then builds up and up until you think you may go crazy. And then, when it’s died down to the point when you are thinking that maybe sanity is an option again … the next stroke comes slashing down…!
And it’s the hottest, hottest thing in the whole wide world.
When I first met my Master, I’d never tasted the cane. He was delighted by this, and I was glad I could give him that “cherry” to be popped.
For those of you who don’t know our history, I was seeing another guy (Bear) in an open relationship when I started seeing my Master. It’s wonderful that my Master and I “clicked,” and that we have the wonderful relationship that we have had for the past five years … but it was deeply unfortunate that I had to break another’s heart to get to the happy place where I am now.
After the break-up with Bear, I went to my parent’s house Back East for a month, to get my head back on straight. I had loved Bear (just not as much as I love my Master, it would seem…) and having to hurt him had really injured my own heart … and I needed some healing time before I started being with my Master 100%.
(Of course, this was a good idea in theory, but it turned out that we called each other about twice a day (nevermind the emails), with long talks every evening where he read me stories from Janus or I told him sexual fantasies while one or the other of us masturbated. The separation did nothing but make us closer … and meant that I missed going to a Rubber Ball with him. [Doh!] Although he did call me [quite drunk] in the wee hours, and was really very gushingly romantic … as well as doing surprising things when sober, like sending me a picture of a street sign for “Love Lane,” which pretty much had me all melty, all the time!)
Anyway, all of the above was relevant because he decided that when I came home, that very night would be a formal caning: my first (obviously). It would be some amount of “six of the best,” done entirely “—of the best” … no lighter “first timer” sample strokes for me!
I was terrified, but drenchingly wet whenever I thought of it.
My original write-up of the event is here. But I have more thoughts to add to it, with the perspective of having had many a caning in the years since that first one.
Simply put: the cane turned me from someone who fantasized about pain into a true masochist. For many years, while I masturbated to thoughts of being spanked, whipped, etc., reality was just too, well, painful. I remember the first time I tried being a masochist; I was so surprised that it just hurt – it wasn’t hot and sexy the way it was in my fantasies!
And over time I had kinda given up on it. I knew I was a pervert, I knew I was a submissive … but being a real, actual “I love the pain” masochist seemed beyond me.
That all changed in six strokes from my Master’s Senior cane….
Yes, of course pain still hurts for me. Sometimes, the pain just-plain-old-hurts, and I simply have to grit my teeth and get through it.
Other times, however, some implement (usually one made of rattan or leather – wood is evil!) lands just right – and the pain is just like in all my fantasies: a commingling of pain-and-pleasure that turns pleasure into something far more interesting and satisfying!
But, the lessons the cane (and, err, my Master) have taught me is how to get through those times when “it just hurts,” and get a mental/sexual satisfaction from them, even as I physically suffer through them.
So my opinion of the cane is: find someone who is experienced and whom you trust completely … and then let go of trying to control the situation (and don’t let your fears overwhelm you – ask for help to deal with them!), and don’t look back!
Northern Spanking
I Feel Myself.com

Ooh, I loved this. Thanks Zille! (What does it say about me that I’m excited by a description that suggests caning might make me go crazy and become a masochist?)
Silly Graham! It says you’re a pervert, like me!
Welcome to the club!
I love this description:
“A caning hurts. Quite a lot. It’s a white-hot slash of pure pain that shocks you upon impact … and then builds up and up until you think you may go crazy. And then, when it’s died down to the point when you are thinking that maybe sanity is an option again … the next stroke comes slashing down…!
And it’s the hottest, hottest thing in the whole wide world.”
I think my issue is, I’ve never quite learnt to love the pain, still working on that! On the other hand, even though I don’t welcome the pain, being caned still turns me on, big time
Zille, such wisdom from one so young.

Still I think that caning a woman that both fears and yet loves it, and loves and trusts the one who administers it, is an experience to be savoured, as often as is safe.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.
Eliane — well, I don’t love the pain every time the cane strikes me (heh, the times it’s more a physical turn-on than a physical agony to be gotten through are really in the minority!) … it’s just that the cane taught me how to get turned on even when it just plain hurts, no masochism to the rescue!
Paul — Aww, go on! You know how to flatter a girl!
And you know I agree fervently with you on savouring it as often as is possible and safe!
Oh, a most excellent post. Thanks for this. And I love how you teased out that the cane
“taught me is how to get through those times when “it just hurts,” and get a mental/sexual satisfaction from them, even as I physically suffer through them.”
That’s an important distinction–the different ways of “taking” or absorbing pain in a scene. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I think it may have been similar with the cane for me. I tend to think it has something to do with the limited, formal context of a caning–maybe it provided some kind of structure for containing the pain. I am not sure. But I’m sure going to have fun thinking about it!
Thank you, Caroline!
I think you’re just right that the formal context, with the known limits, changes everything.
Before I had only done BDSM, where you start with the warm up and then you add pain until the point it becomes overwhelming. It’s a very different animal!
And I like Brit-style discipline much better…!
weee… everytime i drop by i’m more and more your loyal student… my girl and i are interested to experiment cane… thanks zille…