Crazy for Canes – Part II

We left off in Part I with the newfound knowledge that “Caning is an art. Being caned is a practice.”

“This is a great choice of a Delrin Cane.  It has a very nice flex to it, but is very firm.  Use care as this cane really packs a wallop.” –CANE-IAC

And they’re not kidding about the wallop! The delrin cane kept me guessing and swearing and begging. It is a creature that I can’t figure out. One that I cannot pin-down or put my finger on. And definitely one that I cannot, for the life of me, top from the bottom. Ha. My kind of playmate.

According to my play-partner, the Delrin Master’s Choice Jr Cane is harder to control than the rattan cane by quite a bit. The same power, intensity, and focus of swing leaves him guessing where on my body it will strike and at what force. (I’m not the only one surprised by my screams!)

Now, I’m sure that with more practice and experience, this cane won’t be such a wild-card. For now, though, it’s a sizzling Joker.

In my infinite infamous wisdom, I asked (read: begged) my play-partner if we could play a game with the canes. Wouldn’t it be fun, I asked, to blindfold me and cane me with both…to see if I can guess which is which?

A smirk settled across his face. My ass was in the air, yet again. The lights were off. And I couldn’t see for shit. The rain fell on my ass. My thighs. The sweet-spot. Lightly, at first. Then harder. Faster. Rhythmically. Drawing me in… pulling me into meditative bliss.

Rattan, I whispered. The next thing I knew I was screaming, but the sound of the air was the same. The strokes were still so even. The feel so smooth across my flesh.

Silly, I said. You didn’t switch yet, did you?

The only answer to my question was more rain on my reddened, burning behind. Falling from the heavens. That place which I could not see, and had no desire to question. (No desire to question. Not that I could not question it, but rather, that I chose not to question it.) It was rain. A natural phenomenon.

In between my moans and sighs, staggered-breathing and screams, another layer of redness made its way onto my ass. A few times I thought about using my safe-word, but opted instead to turn my body away from the cane. To cry out, Please stop! Please! I need a break!

…Reaching behind to caress my ass & thighs, asking if there was a line because I could tell that certain stroke had left a mark and having it confirmed somehow made me feel better. A strange reassurance, surely, but it helped me to keep going.

When the White Delrin Master’s Choice Jr Cane bit my flesh, it was at times insanely bouncy and made me feel like a cartoon character or blow-up doll. Hee. Other times, I screamed bloody-hell, and prayed and prayed and prayed for the strength to stay present.

It made very subtle noises as it slashed through the air on the way to reaching me. It is heavier, undoubtedly. Whippier, too. The guessing-game helped me to not run away from the pain. I had to stay aware. Had to stay embodied during my practice. During the session. Throughout it all.

I learned that I don’t like being told that I’ll be thwacked hard with the White Delrin Master’s Choice Jr Cane in “Three… Two… One.” <Insert your approximation of my blood-curdling scream here. With whimpering. Lots of whimpering. And begging, too. For it to stop. For it to all be over.> But seriously, y’all, the countdown-bit is a whole realm of mind-fuckery that I just don’t need, thank-you-very-much.

If you are, or have ever been a cane-slut, & are so.over.rattan, check out the White Delrin Master’s Choice Jr Cane by CANE-IAC.

Alternatively, if you’re a sensate looking for a new sensation to get your wheels spinning, or a sadist who needs a new toy to (consensually, obv.) punish those silly, disobedient sluts, you can get your very own here!

Disclaimer: This product was provided free-of-charge by CANE-IAC  for the purpose of unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the guidelines set forth by the FTC.