Several years back, I made multiple visits to a major city in SE Asia, often of two to three weeks duration.  I was taking part in the planning and pre-mobilisation of an offshore project.  This project was to take place elsewhere in the region but the excellent support facilities in the city were vital to get it up and running. 

The main contractor for the project had a modern office in a new office block.  Their office manager was a delightful local young lady whom I guessed was in her mid-thirties. 

 She didn’t seem to be married and it soon became clear to her that I would be spending time in and out of their office over the next couple of weeks.   Once this became known, Susan made it absolutely, and to my amazement, publicly clear that she was available. 

 I hesitated during my first visit.  It’s not a good idea, when you are the client, to get too close to any of the contractor's staff.  It was one of my ‘golden rules’ before then, never to get involved with contractor’s female staff.  Or males, come to that.  But the day after I arrived on my next visit, I thought, “To hell with it,” and invited Susan out for the evening.

 I was getting older; I could take an immediate non-discounted pension if the worst came to the worst.  There was a buoyant consultancy marketplace.  Knowledge of an affair at my company headquarters would not, alone, be the reason for dismissal or an investigation, etc. 

 I was one of the very small numbers of people who could be entrusted to ‘go anywhere, do anything.’  They would be stupid to upset me.  But then, they could be stupid sometimes.  But who cared?

 I had to be discrete.  I knew her mobile number, because, as I had guessed, Susan found an excuse to call me when I was away looking at the mobilising marine unit.   Her number had popped up on my phone.  I added her to my contacts list.

 This young lady like so many of the locals, lived with relatives in what I believe was a government flat.  I could not go back there. 

 I was staying in one of the biggest hotels on the Island.  The large number of rooms and the fact that the place was very busy made it more anonymous.

 Susan was not the least bit bothered about coming back to the hotel with me, and I had enough of a brass neck to get a card key for her.  She had to produce her ID card to get it.  Good for her!! The dimensions of her brass neck matched my own. 

 Susan was almost as tall as me, was in perfect proportion, and was not overweight.  Her larger build than the South East Asian average was not the norm.  She would not pass the Asian girl's index finger and thumb around the wrist bone size test.  The tip of her index finger just failed to meet her thumb, which indicates larger bones. 

I guess this was down to her ancestry.  She told me her ancestors, unusually for the area, came from north of the Yangtze where the people tend to be taller than most of the southern Chinese. 

 She was nice-looking, and her general attitude was just what I liked!

 It became clear immediately that Susan was desperate for sex.  Her sexual appetite was even greater than my own, but then, she was younger.  She liked to have sex at the hotel straight after work and go out late,  When we got back from work, it was get naked, into the shower then as much sex as I could manage. 

 I used to arrive with a stock of Mars bars and I would eat one as soon as we got back to the hotel to get the blood sugar level up, I find it helps.

 Susan would be wet (inside) as soon as we finished showering and could not wait to get into it.

I was in my early fifties and say what you like, I didn’t have the sexual stamina of my twenties.  The desire was there and technical knowledge was much greater than it was then, but age gets to be a problem.  God bless Viagra. 

 It was all fairly vanilla at first, but that didn’t last long.  Susan loved me to perform oral sex on her, almost always as a preliminary to penetrative sex, and give it to her cowgirl, doggy fashion or sometimes in the diaper position.  

 She said that with me being reasonably well endowed, a good seeing-to in the diaper position could hurt a bit.  But she could always squeeze the last drop out of me. 

 She liked cowgirl because I could caress her breasts as she rode me.  She had cute breasts, so typical of Asian ladies.

 If she stood bent over in a standing position for doggy fashion, I could play with her clit or her breasts. 

 Susan was in ecstasy when I kissed and licked her clitoris while fingering her G spot.  I could feel a definite small but slightly harder area.  She would arch her back and cry out in pleasure. 

 Susan said, “It’s a so strong feeling when you finger my G spot and kiss my clit.  It’s nice when I squeeze my finger but your stimulation is so much better, I think it’s even better than sex sometimes.”

 I think this created a bond between us, I had taken her to sexual places that possibly she had never been to before. 

 Susan was a bit inquisitive, which I liked.  She wondered what the G spot was about, despite enjoying the apparent possession of the item.  We looked it up on the internet.  We found an article describing the female nervous system and musculature of the pelvic area and she was fascinated.

Susan was very interested in sex, telling me that there are semi-pornographic writings in Chinese which talk about the sexual training of girls.  She said that she and a small number of liberated friends had as teenagers, used ‘biofeedback’ with a finger in the vagina. 

 They taught themselves to squeeze the finger via the autonomous pelvic floor muscles. 

Susan told me that her old grandmother, now deceased, instructed her how to go about it!! 

 I wondered what grandmother had got up to in her day but didn’t like to ask.  Some things skip a generation.

 I think this is maybe how the phenomenon known as the ‘Singapore Grip’ came about.  It is a wonderful thing to have experienced.  When I mentioned the phrase ‘Singapore Grip’ to Susan she laughed like crazy. 

 She said, “Jim, it's good we are known for something human and not only for the squeaky clean image the Government likes to portray.”

 Maybe this explains why she was so fascinated by the website's female pelvic anatomy details.

 She had a smallish pussy with delicate inner lips.  I would never have thought it could grip so tight!  Now I knew why!

 At first, she made no move to go down on me and one night asked me if I missed it.

 I replied, “Don’t worry, take your time, if you never do it, it's fine, it’s up to you.”

 Susan looked somewhat shyly at me and said, “Jim, now I see how you are, how you keep yourself clean, I will go down on you,” 

 I got to enjoy a series of the best blowjobs I have ever had.

 Susan hadn’t shaved, which can be a bit unusual in SE Asia.  I got around to talking about it and she said, “How would you like to do it for me?” 

 Susan went on, “I can’t do it at home.  They would wonder why I was spending so long in the bathroom.”

 I rose to the occasion, in more ways than one. 

 The bathroom at the hotel had a large bathtub with a little seat set into one side of the tub.  I got her to sit there and went to work with a clean blade in my razor.  I gave gentle attention to sensitive places whilst shaving her and she was in seventh heaven.

 Susan was quite noisy during sex but fortunately, there were no complaints – ‘priez ne vous crie en amour’ (or something like it) as I have seen on a wooden plaque above the bed in the cheaper Paris hotels.

Susan liked occasionally to go to the more raunchy bars in town.  These were around in fair abundance in the first decade of the millennium although I have read that post-Covid, a lot of them have gone or relocated well outside the downtown area.  She was a bit of a voyeur and I think got a vicarious pleasure out of watching the antics of the ladies of the night! 

 We were not in one of those establishments but at the outdoor part of a waterside bar on a fairly quiet Thursday evening.  Susan took the lead in quite a few things.  She got the conversation around to ‘kinks.’ 

 I had been very careful to avoid that sort of thing with the project in the offing; it was risky enough to be enjoying her company and what came with it without inviting anyone to look too deeply at one’s inner psyche. 

 I said quietly, looking around to be sure no one was listening, “I am well into kinky sex.  I like orgasm denial, spanking, and switching.  I’ve done a bit of restraint fun, mostly giving it too.  I wanted to make sure we were very comfortable together before I got into any of this with you.   I didn’t want to rush things.”

 Susan laughed and replied, “Jim, please don’t worry, there is no need to wait.”

 With eyes a little cast down she went on; “Now that I know you, Jim, I can let you tie me up a bit, do some spanking and delayed orgasm.  I’ve heard about ‘switching’ but never done it. Spanking is quite a kink amongst the Chinese.”

 That I didn’t know. 

 Susan went on, “Spanking has been going on for years as a prelude to sex in China as well as a bygone punishment for adults.  There are drawings of it and mentions in ancient texts. I must find some to show you.  Nowadays there is an underground industry of making spanking videos in China. 

 “They are scared to make them in China because video porn is a bit of a grey area in Chinese law.  When you watch their videos, you rarely see a face.  Some take the risk but many go to Japan or Taiwan to make the videos, or they go to other SE Asian countries. 

 “They can move the videos on for money wherever there is the internet and if in the place concerned, it’s not censored regarding that sort of thing.  Japan has a huge video sex industry and offers banking facilities.”

 I was sure that nothing like that went on where we were.  I asked the question. 

 Susan replied, “Oh no, nothing like that happens here, the sale and distribution of that sort of material is banned but it goes on ‘underground.’ and some people make quite a bit of money, but it can be risky.

 “There is a BDSM movement but it’s not a good scene, some of it is dominated by gangs.  I won’t go near it.  I have had us avoid establishments where I know the gangs have influence.”

 It was a weekday and getting late.  We needed to be in the office the next morning by eight o’clock so we went back to the hotel.  I had packed with me a coiled-up length of round-section leather cord about two metres in length and about two millimetres in diameter. 

I figured that I could make a martinet with it and it was cheap enough, if necessary, to allow ‘disposal’ of the martinet before onward travel.

 The untouched leather cord attracts no interest at customs and one could always say, “It’s in case my shoelace breaks.” It can be fashioned into a martinet with the aid of a penknife.

 I showed it to Susan and explained how it could be turned into a spanking implement.

 I said, “It’s a weekday, it’s late, we have been drinking.  Let’s come straight after work tomorrow when we are sober and we can have fun.  It will be Friday anyway!”

 Susan looked just a little relieved.  She said, “Yes, I’m tired.  We need to get some rest, tomorrow sounds like a great idea.”

 The next evening after work I made a little martinet with the strands about thirty cm long.  Keeping them a bit short makes it much easier to control. 

 Susan was fascinated by this and was in a state of excitement.  There had been no time to procure anything or plan for anything else.  But I needed to have a little talk with her. 

 I got her in bed and after the warming up preliminaries, I said, “Is this the first time you have done any spanking or similar with a man or for that matter, another lady?”  I was pretty sure she wasn’t bi and she was fairly unshockable.

 Susan replied, “I haven’t been spanked since I was a girl.  When I grew up twenty years ago, spanking at home was quite common past age sixteen.  It’s less common now because the Government has had to listen a bit to the UN.  But I have wanted to try it as an adult for a long time.  I decided I could talk to you about it because you seem to have a good understanding of sexuality. 

 “So many men just see me as a sex object.  I know I love having sex, but you bring more to it than most.  You are never shocked when I mention anything and you didn’t rush into anything last night.  I am sure you have things planned.”

 She was right.  I sometimes wondered if Susan was clairvoyant. 

 I have learned from experience that with a new spanking partner, one of the best things to do is to try to find out exactly what the other half wants or expects.  These can be two different things.

 I got her in my arms and said, “So no one has put you over his knee and spanked your bum as an adult?”

 “Well no,” replied Susan, “but I want to try it as an adult.” 

 “For sure,” I said, “Would you like first to see how another adult reacts to being spanked, what I mean is, would you like to spank me first?”

 I went on, “By letting yourself be spanked you are taking a risk.  I know you trust me, but don’t you think it would be better for you if you could see how I react to quite a hard spanking?

 “You will be able to see that I feel pain, and react to being spanked, possibly like yourself.  It should give you confidence that I will understand how you feel and will not go beyond what you can handle. 

 “For you, there is safety in this method, you will see that I am not a beast about to torture you.  I believe you shouldn’t give it if you can’t take it and this is my way of showing I can take it.

 “What you are perhaps not aware of is that you may find that spanking me will be a huge turn-on for you.  If so, you need to get as much out of it as possible.  When you are spanking me, if you are getting turned on, please tell me because I would love you to get the best out of it.”

 Susan stared at me in amazement; whilst we had talked about’ switching’, I don’t think it had yet moved into the realm of reality with her. She pulled me to her and hugged and kissed me, she was a bit moved. 

 Her voice shaking a little, Susan said, “No one has ever talked to me in such a considerate manner.  You are a lovely sexy man; you had that look in your eye the moment you arrived.”

 Nobody has said that to me before or since.  What was it about Susan?

 I said, “Now’s the time, would you like me to show you how to use the martinet?”

 Susan could not wait.  “Jim, what do I do?” she asked, “I’ve never seen one of these.”

 I got up and put a pillow on the end of the bed.  “Now imagine that’s my bum,” I began,

 “Swing the martinet at it, mostly horizontally.  You need to hold the martinet at the end where I have knotted the strands together.  There are two good size knots that will fit nicely into your hand.”

 I continued, “The idea is to let the strands contact my bum and be pulled across it after impact.  I expect those little strands to sting a lot, so please don’t use all your strength when you start using it on me.

 “Now try doing it to the pillow.  You need to stand to the right, hold your arm back a bit then swing the martinet quickly towards the pillow.  Give it a stroke every ten seconds or so.  Go on, give it a try.”

Susan got into position and did as I asked.  I noted she was not scared to use a bit of force.  The strands landed with a healthy little crack on the pillow.  I guess when you have received a spanking from an implement, it gives you a fair idea of how to give one.

 I wondered what I was in for. 

 I let Susan do this about ten or a dozen times before saying, “OK, I think you have got it.  I’m going to kneel on the bed on all fours with my bum up and out.  So I get a bit of warning, you could gently swing the strands onto my bum twice.  On the third swing, you do it with some force.  One hard stroke about every ten seconds, please.  How does that sound?”

 Susan stared at me.  “You are sure now?  I’m sure this will hurt.”

 “I know it will,” I replied, “But don’t worry, I’m a naughty boy and I deserve it.”

 Susan looked for the first time since I had known her, to be just a little unsure of herself.

 She admitted, “I feel a bit horny already, I’ve never known anything like this, I’m getting wet, come and feel.”

 I did as requested and she was right.  I thought, “This is going to be something.”

 I got on the bed on all fours. 

 "I'm ready," I said.

 I felt the strands swing lightly across my bum a couple of times and then a sound of them moving in the air and ‘crack’.  The resulting sting was horrendous.  I had no idea it would be that bad.  I gasped but kept still.

 Susan said, “Are you OK?”

 “Yes,” I replied, trying to sound as normal as possible, “Please carry on”.

 The very sharp stings kept arriving, I tried to think of something else, and it always helps.  When she got to number six, I got up off the bed rubbing my bum.  I looked at it in the mirror; it was a mass of dark red lines. 

 None of the strokes had broken the skin.  But I was surprised; I had thought the individual leather strands would be too light to have such an effect. 

 Susan was a bit concerned.  She said, “Are you OK, I didn’t think it would leave marks like that?” 

 I was more surprised that the sting wasn’t subsiding much.  The pain from a caning dies away a lot quicker in my experience.  But it gave me a warning to go easy with it on Susan.  This was the first time that the martinet had been used on me.

 I had got into it only as a result of reading about it on spanking websites but up to that time had never used or received one ‘in action.’

 “Don’t worry, I ’m used to this sort of thing, you have caught on quickly, you are good at it,” I said, managing a smile.

 I got her in my arms and gave her a big kiss.  She put her hands down and felt my bum saying; “But it’s so hot and the marks are swelling up a bit.”

 I replied, “That’s just for starters, it was only six of the best.  At my age I need a dozen; you need to give me six more.  But first, how do you feel?” 

 For the first time, I saw her blush a bit, saying, “Jim, I’m so horny, come and feel.” 

 Susan was soaking wet.  I thought, “Let her give me six more and we will see what happens.”

 I got back up on the bed.  I turned around, looked at her, and said, “Susan, please give me six more, if you feel things creeping up on you, please just stop and take care of yourself, you deserve it.  This time, please put a bit more effort into it, I have been a bad boy, I deserve it.”

 Susan looked a bit concerned but replied, “OK if that’s what you want, now get ready.”

 I put my head down, steadied my breathing, and said; “I’m ready.”

 The next one made an impact on my already flaming rump.  I think the first six must have numbed me a bit because these were harder strokes as requested.  I could feel the physical impact as well as the sting but it didn’t get on top of me.  I kept myself under control and after a few seconds I called out, “Ready” again. 

 But I was going to have difficulty in dealing with these, and it was giving me a lot of respect for the power of the martinet to punish. 

 I made it through the second set of six strokes i.e. twelve in all.  I thought, “Keep going,” so I said, “Please give me six more, it’s OK, I need it.”

 After the third stroke of the third set of six strokes, I heard Susan, breathing erratically, I looked around and she had sunk to her knees, shaking a bit.  I thought she must be in the grip of a huge orgasm.  I got up and eased her over onto the bed.

 “Jim,” she said, “It got the better of me, I’ve never had an orgasm like this without physical stimulation, it’s all in my mind but my body has reacted to it.”

 I gently opened her legs and could see her clitoris moving in and out.  No doubt about it.  I thought I would see if she would like me to kiss her clit and gave it a try.  Susan stopped me, saying, “If it gets any stronger I might damage myself with muscular spasms, please let it die away a bit.”

 She went on, “When I mentioned spanking to you last night, just sitting there, I felt horny and started getting wet.  I always get wet if I think about it, I don’t know why.  Doing it gives me feelings that are out of this world.  They can be stronger than when we have sex.” 

 This reassured me that I had not corrupted her; the urge was in her anyway.  What a wonderful coincidence that we had met up. 

 “Susan,” I said, “I thought you would find it a turn-on, I wonder how you will feel when I spank you?”

 Susan replied, “I can’t take a spanking right now, not until my pussy stops jumping and I calm down a bit.  I’ve never known anything like this.  Let me recover please.”

 She got into bed and lay there dozing and occasionally shaking.  I caught up with a bit of work on the laptop and waited.  

 I took another look at my bum in the mirror.  A couple of strokes overlapped each other and where that had happened, the skin was just oozing a bit.  I found some plasters and stuck them onto the affected places.  Be careful with the martinet, it is a cousin to the cat of nine tails.

 Susan eventually roused herself and said, "Let's get cleaned up and go for a snack, I'm starving now." 

 It was only about eight-thirty, we still had time.  I was ready, thinking that Susan would be hungry as I doubt she had much lunch.  We had come straight from work, as usual, the light of sex in her eye! 

 We walked to one of the few areas where we knew several small cafes and bars still existed in the modern town.  On the way, we went past what I thought was a small old-fashioned type of general store.  There were not many of these left.  It was still open at that time of night. 

 I noticed Susan glance over as we passed and she slowed the pace of walking. 

 We had walked on about twenty-five yards or so, enough for the shopkeeper not to be too interested in us as potential customers.   Susan looked around to see if anyone was likely to be listening.  

 It must have been all clear because she said, "Did you see what he is selling in there?  He's got a stock of small canes, of the same type that I was caned with.  We could buy three or four and make double or triple canes out of them; a single small cane is not much use on an adult."

 I was surprised.  I had vaguely heard about this but had never seen those canes in reality.

 "What do you want to do?"  I asked, "If you go back and buy some, right now we haven't brought anything to hide them in!"

Susan laughed a little and said, "He will find a thin cardboard box or something and disguise them in that.  It's the usual thing here.  People don't like to be seen carrying them around in public."  

I replied, "Buy them now or in the morning?" 

 Susan said, "Now, we won't need to come back in the morning and it might be raining." 

 Susan was right; I was a bit slow as usual. 

 I said, "You had better make the purchase.  How much will they cost?  I guess we need to pay cash?" 

 Susan named a figure and I handed over the cash.  I was going to hang back while Susan went to the shop, her presence would seem normal to the shopkeeper. 

 Five minutes later Susan was back with a long thin cardboard enclosure that looked like it had been quickly made out of corrugated paper and tape. 

 "Come on," Susan said, "Let's go and eat.  Only one drink each, then we can have fun.  We have all day tomorrow to recover,” and smiled.  She didn't need to say any more. 

 We found a little cafe and no one should be surprised when I say I have no recollection of what we eat.  My thoughts were focused on 'what might come next’. 

 We went back to the hotel.  We got the little canes out.  They were only about sixty cm long and five mm in diameter.

 Susan produced some thick string that she had bought with the canes and began to tie two of them together in the manner of ‘whipping the end of a rope.’ 

 She said, “Here we make a double cane for use on those who don’t respond to a single one.  They are usually older ones who have got hardened to the single cane.”

 “How do you know this?”  I asked,

 “Just imagine,” Susan replied, laughing a bit. 

 Susan, I realised already, was a live wire and quite a hard case. 

 She said, “Please help me, it’s much easier to tie a couple of them together if there are two of you.  Hold them about three inches up from here I am starting to wind the string around the two ends.”

Within about five minutes Susan produced a neat double cane with a sewn-together handle end that held the two rods securely in place.   The way she had varied the winding technique as it advanced away from the bound end of the rods forced them to separate by a couple of inches at the open end.

 I said, “You have done this before, haven’t you?”

 Susan smiled and said, “I did tell you that it's quite common here, many of us in our youth will have seen parents do this.  It’s not the sort of thing you forget, especially if you have been on the receiving end of the finished article.

 “I want my first spanking experience with you to be a caning, I’m familiar with that and I want to go back to something I know.  There’s comfort in repeating known experiences.”

 I agreed with that and replied, “Whatever you feel ‘comfortable’ with for sure.”

I didn’t think she would feel ‘comfortable’ for very long once the twin stings from this implement began in earnest.  

 Susan swished the finished article in the air.  The noise it made cutting through the air was impressive.  I wondered if the impact on the tight skin of a presented bottom would be similar.

 Susan said, "It is my turn, but please, I need a hand-spanking warm-up first."

 I was relieved to hear her come straight to the point and ask, I was going to offer it anyway.  I loved her direct approach.  Susan knew exactly what she wanted and usually went after it by the direct route. 

 But I was concerned about the noise of a hand spanking.  The room was fairly well soundproofed with a thick door.  You couldn't hear much noise from the corridor but I wondered if the rhythmic sounds of a hand spanking might attract unwelcome attention.    

 I said, "Let's move a chair into the bathroom which is better soundproofed than the bedroom and hand spank you in there, we can go back to bed for the 'main event'(!)"

 Whilst I was in the bathroom I quickly removed the plasters from my bum, hoping that if and when the time came, Susan would not notice the slightly raw places.

 Susan replied, "We need to freshen up in the shower anyway so let's do that." 

 We took a shower together and then moved a chair into the bathroom, which for a hotel was of a decent size.

 I think Susan was the most relaxed I had ever seen her, whatever I had been doing, it was the right thing for her.   

 Susan said, “I have been waiting for this for years.  I realise now that the feelings I had in my late teens were the awakening of my interest in spanking.  I wondered why I felt like that at the time, but I was ignorant about the erotic side of spanking.  Before we know better, we think we are the only person in the world experiencing those feelings.

  “I could talk to my girlfriends about a lot of sexy things but somehow, spanking never came up.  I was well into my twenties before I was exposed to spanking on the internet and I began to realise I was not alone.

 “I had been scared that my feelings were not normal and the knowledge that there were others like me was a huge help.  I found I could focus better on work and other activities in my life.”

 I had been through a similar thing.  It took the arrival of the internet for me to wake up to the fact that I wasn’t alone. 

 I hugged her and said, “Don’t worry; I am going to make this as good for you as I know how.”

 By that time my spanking experience encompassed a fair body of knowledge garnered in several countries.

 I said, “OK, get over my knee.”

 We had arranged the chair such that when Susan went over my knee, the upper part of her could rest on a towel on the side of the bath, so she was well supported. 

 “Susan, are you ready?” I asked.

 Susan just nodded.

 I said, “I’m going to spank you until you ask me to stop, or until I think your bottom can’t take anymore, or my hand gets too sore.”

 “Go on,” Susan said, “I’m more than ready.”

 I started in on her, one spanks every four or five seconds.  I did it quite hard, it was hurting my hand.  She jerked just a little sometimes and made a few little gasps, but no yelling or crying out.  I spanked her all over her bottom, down to the crease and, not just closer to the centre but moving out towards the flanks.

 Her bottom began to redden a bit and feel warm to the touch.  I could tell that Susan was very aroused because she was starting to drip on my knee.  It was quite tiring and my hand ached. 

 Susan began to wriggle about and her breathing changed.  I kept on with the hand spanking, but not for much longer.

 Susan suddenly said, “Please stop, if I’m going to be caned I must not let myself be carried away so soon. Would you like to start caning me while I am over your knee?  Please, or I will die of frustration.”

 This was unusual but very welcome. 

 I said, “Let me fetch the cane and move back into the bedroom.   We can use the chair and the bed; it will be more comfortable for you.  The cane is less noisy than hand spanking so we can do it in there.”

 Susan said, “Have you got a clean handkerchief, please?  I would like to bite on one, and then if I would yell due to the sharp sting, I yell into it and not out loud.  I used to make a lot of noise when caned as a girl, I remember.  Come on, hurry up, I can’t wait.”

 The handkerchief thing was a timely reminder.  A few years before, another local young lady turned out to be a real screamer during vanilla sex.  The hotel was not amused.

 Susan wanted a sore bum and was going to get one.  She got into position over my knee with her chest on the bed. 

 She looked at me and said, “Give me a warm-up with twenty to thirty very light strokes so I get used to it.  I will tell you how it feels as it goes on.”

 She bit on the handkerchief.

 I started caning her quite lightly on the fat part of her bottom a few inches down from the start of the crack between the cheeks.  I allowed about ten seconds between strokes.  Susan gave little muffled gasps after each stroke.

 “This is lovely,” she said, “Little sharp sting, it makes me feel so sexy.” 

 Her bottom began to redden slowly; the individual cane marks were quite faint.

 I must have gotten to about stroke eighteen when Susan said,” I’m used to it now, do it harder but leave a longer time between strokes please.”

 I increased the force of the twin cane strokes and let it ‘bounce’ when it made contact.  Susan jerked after each stroke and the little gasps were replaced by louder moans.  The individual cane marks became a bit more pronounced. 

 Suddenly Susan said, “Stop, If I carry on like this I will come in no time.  I want to get up and kneel on the bed.  When I’m ready give them to me a lot harder, I think that will hurt more and stop me from feeling so sexy.  I want to feel what it is like compared to years back.  Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

 She must have had thirty or so light to moderate strokes so far.

 Susan got into position on the bed.  “I’m ready,” she called out. 

 I said, “I’m going to give these according to how you react.  If you want me to rub the marks after each stroke or after a few, just ask.   Just tell me to stop if you have had enough.”

 “Go on please,” Susan said, “I’m ready.” 

 She had done away with the handkerchief.

 I cracked home the first one with more force than I had used to date.  Susan arched her back and said, “One,” in quite an anguished voice. 

 I let her calm herself and resume the position before I carried on.

 “Two,” she cried out, wagging her rump from side to side.

 I cracked home numbers three and four with a gap between them.  She kept on calling out the stroke numbers.

 She buried her head in the bedding and squirmed about, more in the grip of her sexual feelings than in pain, I thought.

 She said, “Give me two real stingers for five and six, and don’t hold back.”

 I did as requested and after number six, she cried out, “Rub my bum, it’s on fire.”

 I rubbed at the very pronounced marks which were forming hard ridges.  Susan moaned in pleasure.  Those marks were going to last at least a week.

 “Give me oral and finger me,” she demanded.

 I did as asked.  “Stop,” said Susan, “Get inside me NOW!”

 I could feel the muscles around her pussy in strong motion as I gave it to her doggy fashion.   In less than a minute she had a colossal orgasm which triggered my own.

 “Let me get on my back now, try and stay hard,” Susan said.

 I managed to stay stiff and got back inside her.  She was still in the grips of an orgasm which I could feel with a vengeance.  She dug her nails into my back, moaning with pleasure and breathing quite fast.

 I guess we hung on to each other like this for about ten minutes, making what Shakespeare called ‘the beast with two backs’.  I was very pleased to be able to maintain my erection for as long as that.

Susan pulled herself out from under me and stood up, rubbing her bum.  She looked at it in the mirror.

Susan said, “I’m well marked and it feels sore but the impact pain has about gone, you did a great job.  I want to sit on the bidet and see what it feels like.  Come and help me please.”

 This was new, Susan, despite her large sexual appetite had always been conservative about the bathroom, apart from the shaving activity.

 She waited for me to follow and then first tried to sit on the loo.  Her face screwed up a bit as the marks touched the seat, but she soon relaxed, saying, “It hurt initially when my weight came on the cane marks but now I’m sitting on them it’s more of a sensation.”

 She had a pee not caring that I was present. 

 She got up off the loo and sat on the bidet facing the taps and spout.  The bidet rim is narrower than the loo seat and I could see she was feeling an increased sensation as she sat there.   She turned on the water and let it run onto her parts.

She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Help me wash myself down there please.” 

 I did as requested and I could feel her clitoris in motion.  Susan was caressing her breasts as this was going on.  She was in seventh heaven. 

 After a couple of minutes, Susan said, “That’s enough.  Please turn off the taps.”

 I turned them off.  Susan stood up, turned around, and sat on the bidet facing me, legs apart.

 “Go on,” she said, “Eat me.”  That’s not an invitation to refuse.

 As the oral attention went on, she rocked back and forth. 

 When Susan had finally had as much of this as she could handle,  she said, “Your oral, with the sensations as I rock backward and forwards on the cane marks, is out of this world.  I always found that the pain of a caning faded quickly.   In my late teen years, I didn't recognise the sexual element in the sensations.

 Susan went on, “We don’t have a bidet at home but we have a spray thing attached to the toilet water supply.  The problem is it makes the floor wet around the toilet.  That doesn’t matter as there is by design, a drain in the bathroom floor.

 “But if I do it too often, they might wonder why.  It’s great to have access to a bathroom with a bidet installed, I can use it every day if I feel like it and there is no one to know.”

 This was another revelation.

 I smiled and said, “You must be very tired now.  I can’t ask you to do anything else.” 

 Susan said, “What do you have in mind please?”

 I replied, “How about a dozen with the cane if you can manage it.”

 Susan laughed a bit and replied, “I wondered if you would ask, I was even going to suggest it, you deserve it for nearly cutting me in half with the cane.”

 I was a bit shocked; I didn’t think it had been that bad.

 I said, “Was it that bad?”

 She laughed again and said, “It was the most painful caning I have ever experienced.  It must be due to the twin cane landing on twice as many nerves as a single one.  But I could handle it as I was getting so much pleasure out of the enormous stimulation. 

 “I would have stopped you if it got on top of me, but it never did.”

 I got on the bed, bum up and head down. 

 I said, “Please give me twelve stingers right now.”  I could still feel the martinet strokes; this was going to be interesting.

 She got lined up, tapped by bum twice with the cane, the sound of it cutting the air and whack.  It certainly hurt a lot, but was not as bad as the martinet. 

 I said, “Count up to twenty and give me another please.”

 I took the twelve without a problem and my bum was on fire.  I took a look in the mirror and there were a lot of reddish lines slowly turning purple.  I was rock hard again.  Caning usually does that to me.

 Susan said, “Let me rub the marks for you.”

 So I got back up on the bed and she went to work with two stiff fingers and a damp flannel.  It helped reduce the ache and in ten minutes or so, the pain had mostly gone, as usual in my experience.  I was left with an increasingly pleasant hot feeling. 

 Naughty Susan said, “Go and wash your dick and I will see to you.”

 I washed, lay down on m back, and was rewarded with one of her excellent oral efforts.

 This was how things went for two years, as business continued to take me out there, or I managed to make a quick visit when working ‘nearby’.

 Susan did not want to leave and come to the UK.  She had a good circle of relatives and friends.  She wasn’t interested in having children and found comfort in what she knew.

 I think her interest in what we got up to had scratched a big itch but she needed to move on.

 Whilst she enjoyed our time together, eventually she found another companion in a longer-term situation than I could offer.  I was happy for her.  It had been a great experience and I cherish the memory.

 One thing in my life I don’t regret is having had pleasurable sexual encounters around the world.  I will say I never had enough of them!