It started in the sixth form, when Tom thought he had been given two detentions, on separate occasions, by his favourite teacher, Miss Brown.  

Tom was seventeen, and at sixth form college. The second detention had been given two days before the detention class was due to happen. Throughout those two days, all Tom could think about was the fact that two detentions would have earned him four strokes of the cane by the headmistress, Miss Johnson. 

In fact, neither detention had been given, but, as well as relief that he wasn't going to be caned, came his obsession about wondering what it would be like to be caned. The regret that he wasn't caned increased his obsession. 

That obsession intensified when, due to overcrowding in prisons, a new level of punishment was introduced by the creation of Discipline Centres. Offenders were sentenced to the cane, with anything up to seventy-two strokes on their bare bottoms on one day. If the offence justified more than that, then the offender had to return on a second day.  

In fact, Discipline Centres were very successful in reducing crime, because offenders, in the main, hated being caned, and when they were caned, that quickly turned them back into law-abiding citizens. 

The more that Tom read in the newspapers about offenders struggling with these punishments, with the offender strapped to a caning table to take away any chance of avoiding every stroke, he just couldn’t get out of his mind what it might be like to have to attend one of those Discipline Centres and to be caned himself. That was the way his obsession grew. 

The punishments at the Discipline Centres were given by fully trained officers. Tom quickly started to fantasise about dating one of those officers, always a woman, because he definitely only wanted to submit to a woman, and not just the once, but submitting to her constant disciplinary control. 

Practically every night, Tom masturbated, imagining himself each time strapped to the caning table, and being caned by a gorgeous-looking police officer, in a short-sleeved shirt, and skirt, both beige in colour. Whenever he was out and saw any girl dressed in that colour, he immediately got another erection. 

The obsession became an addiction that stayed with him for years and years after that. He would be thinking about it all the time, whether at work, out with friends, or even when watching a football match. Something would suddenly click in his mind, and the thoughts of being caned would immediately take over whatever he was doing.  

Slowly but surely, thinking about being caned started to affect his daily life. His thoughts and fantasies of being caned at a Discipline Centre kept returning, disrupting his concentration on whatever he happened to be doing at the time. That meant he made mistakes at home, and he quite often would stop mid-sentence, even when having a chat with friends or work colleagues, because an image of him being strapped to a caning table and being caned suddenly took over his thoughts. 

It was a constant frustration for Tom, as well, because he never plucked up the courage to discuss this with any of his friends. In fact, none of them were aware of his obsession. 

When Tom was thirty, he had gone into a sex shop and purchased a cane. It was wrapped carefully so as he travelled back home on the train, no one could see what he was carrying. 

As soon as Tom got home, he quickly undressed, and started to cane himself with the cane. It stung, a little bit, but he soon realised that there was no way that he could give himself a proper caning. That got him even more frustrated, and further intensified his obsession. 

By the time Tom was forty, he was constantly on the Internet, looking at photographs and watching films all about a woman caning a man. He definitely preferred it when the woman was in the uniform that the police officers wore at the Discipline Centres, as shown in various newspaper articles still. 

It was when he was looking at one of these websites, an advert appeared. It was asking if you wanted to attend a Discipline Centre to be caned, but hadn’t committed any offences. That certainly got Tom intrigued. 

Tom delved further, and discovered there was a whole market of offenders who, through this third-party website, were able to sell their Punishment Forms. The third-party produced a false ID, and so the purchaser would be able to attend the Discipline Centre, as though they were the offender, and suffer the punishment. 

Because Tom was so obsessed, he didn’t think through that it might be a scam, and wanted to investigate the matter further. To do that, he signed up with the third-party company, called “PFD,’ which was short for ‘Punishment Form Deception.’ 

Tom looked through the website eagerly, and saw there were two forms for sale for punishments that were due to take place at the Discipline Centre closest to where he lived. In fact, it was just three miles away. One of them was for thirty-six strokes of the cane, and the other for seventy-two strokes. 

Tom supposed it made sense that the form for seventy-two strokes was actually cheaper than the one for thirty-six strokes, which Tom quickly worked out was because there would be a greater demand for those wanting to take thirty-six strokes than there would be for those wanting to take seventy-two strokes. Tom knew that, because of his obsession, he just wanted to dive right in and take the form with seventy-two strokes. 

Even though the price was stated, it was actually a minimum price. To get the form, you still had to bid for it. Tom was so obsessed that he immediately submitted a price at double the amount of the minimum. He then waited to see if he had offered enough. 

As it turned out, the wait wasn’t very long, because, within ten minutes, he got a reply to say that he had won the auction. Tom supposed he wasn’t surprised at that, and even wondered whether the auction was false. Well, even if it was, he was certainly happy to make this payment to experience the caning that he had wanted to experience for so long. Of course, had he been caned for the two detentions he never got, he would have got away with four strokes. Now, it was going to be seventy-two strokes, but maybe that was one of the penalties he had to pay for allowing his obsession to take such a strong hold of his mind.  

The process was then quite simple. He had to forward a photograph of himself, and within less than an hour, the Punishment Form was sent back to him, giving all the details of the offender, but using his photograph. It seemed that the photograph was the only ID needed, but that made sense because it was probably pretty rare for someone wanting to be punished instead of the actual offender. 

When Tom read the form, he saw that his appointment at the Discipline Centre was in two days' time. He therefore decided to submit a form at work requesting a day off. Before he submitted the form, he thought, just for safety, he would take two more days off after that, because his bottom was bound to be very tender after getting so many strokes of the cane, and he thought he should have time to recover before going back to work. 

The holiday request form was accepted, and for the next two days, Tom could think of nothing else but his forthcoming visit to the Discipline Centre. 

On the day, Tom decided to go by bus rather than drive, just in case he wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind to focus on driving home. 

When Tom got to the Discipline Centre, he knew that he had driven past it several times before now, but, today, his feelings were completely different. He did, momentarily, question whether he should actually go through with this. The trouble was, it had been made very clear to him when he purchased the form, that if he failed to attend, there would be very serious consequences. Whilst they weren’t actually outlined, Tom could just about imagine what those consequences were likely to be, and he wouldn’t like that. Like always, though, he knew his obsession, or was it even an addiction, had led to him making so many mistakes, but he just hoped this wasn't going to be one of them. 

What Tom hadn’t realised, was that the actual offender was standing quite close by, because, if Tom hadn’t appeared, but had bailed, the offender would have had to go in and take the punishment. Of course, he already had the payment, so it wouldn’t have all been bad. 

As soon as Tom entered the Discipline Centre, he went up to the reception desk, showed the form to the receptionist, who Tom thought looked very attractive in the exact prison uniform that he knew she would wear. She looked at the form, pretty much ignoring Tom, checked it on the screen, handed it back to Tom, and said, pointing, "Go along that corridor to the men’s changing room, and you will be told what to do there." 

As Tom walked along the corridor, he had to admit to rather liking the officious tone of voice that the receptionist had used. It was telling him more and more how much he wanted to do this. 

Once in the changing room, he showed the receptionist there the form, and, to Tom’s delight, bearing in mind she looked to be about twenty, she was also dressed in the uniform, and talking officiously, literally talking down to him as though he was the real offender. She told him to go into the locker room adjacent, and find locker number twenty-four. Then, he was to get undressed, put all of his clothes in the locker, and take out the gown that was in the locker. He should put that gown on, then go out through the door with the sign, 'Punishment Rooms,' where there would be several seats, and he should sit there and wait to be called for his punishment. As he was registered as having arrived, she told him, sternly, that he had just five minutes to do all of that, or else his punishment would be increased, which, given the number of strokes he was going to get today, would mean a second visit. She ended by ordering, still officiously, "Now get going.” 

Tom couldn’t resist, as he took the form back, saying, “Yes, Miss,” and then did exactly as he was told. As he got changed into the gown, he did think, perhaps only momentarily, that he could take more than five minutes and so have to be called back for a second punishment. However, his nerves took over, and he thought better of that. 

Once changed, Tom did look in the mirror, seeing himself in the gown, which was bright yellow and a hospital-type gown, tied at the back, so when parted, the whole of his back, including his bottom, would be naked. He wondered if that was the idea, or whether he would have to be totally naked for his punishment. He thought that the articles he read stated that the offender was naked when punished, to add to their humiliation. Tom hoped that was going to be the case.  

As Tom sat in the outer room, waiting to be called, there were two other offenders. There was a big sign up saying, ‘Silence or else,’ and all three of them obeyed that. There was very clear tension in the waiting room, which Tom certainly felt. 

However, as tense as he was, Tom's obsession quickly took hold of him again, and he felt himself get an erection as he waited, picturing himself tied to a caning table, and being caned. He found it very surprising that he could start to think in such an aroused way, almost as though all of this was just a fantasy, whereas he knew it wasn’t a fantasy. He just hoped that, even after this punishment, he would still want to be caned again. After all, if that wasn’t the case, then all of the times he had thought about being caned over the years would have been a total waste of time.  

Suddenly, the door opened, and three police officers came into the waiting area. Two men and one woman. To Tom’s absolute delight, the one lady officer, who's name tag said, Officer Merton, called out his name. Tom thought that she was the most beautiful looking woman, in her early thirty's, he reckoned, her dark hair tied in a bun, her well-toned arms on show because of the short-sleeved shirt, and with bare legs. What a turn on, he told himself. 

Even as Officer Merton called out his name, and he stood up, Tom knew that he still had his erection. He even thought it funny when Officer Merton looked at the bulge that was now pushing out his gown, although he quickly realised that she wasn’t smiling at all. 

Officer Merton gave very short, sternly given, instructions, as she led Tom to Punishment Room Two. 

As Tom entered the punishment room, he quickly looked around because he wasn’t sure what he would see. There was a desk, with a chair on either side, a sink, but most importantly, the canning table. He gasped when he saw it, and several thick hook-ended canes, but realised that the caning table was exactly like the ones he had seen pictures of in those articles that described what went on at the Discipline Centres. 

As he was looking at the caning table, Tom heard Officer Merton instruct, “Get your gown off, offender. Then go and bend over the canning table, placing your wrists close to the leather cuffs.” 

That confirmed to Tom that he was going to be fully naked when being caned.  

Officer Merton was watching Tom as he slipped his gown off, and she said, “As this is your first time here, then I need to tell you that these proceedings are filmed, and there are officers watching this at all times. Do anything other than obey me, even saying something rude to me, and those officers will be in here like a shot.” 

Tom knew that he had no intention of doing anything other than obeying everything he was told, because, after all, he was here to satisfy his obsession with being caned. He didn’t want to do anything to prejudice that, not now that he was here. He just felt so submissive now, as he said, respectfully, "Yes, Officer Merton." 

So, moments later, Tom was naked, had gone and stood in front of the caning table, and bent down over it, placing his wrists very close to the leather cuffs, all as instructed. 

Officer Merton didn’t say anything as she tied both of Tom‘s wrists securely in the leather cuffs, tied another strap around his waist, two more leather straps around his thighs, and, finally, two more leather cuffs to secure his ankles in place. 

Tom pulled lightly at the leather cuffs, but knew that there was simply no movement, and he was totally unable to move around to try to avoid any of the strokes of the cane. Actually, he was happier with that feeling of helplessness, because it put less pressure on him. 

Officer Merton kept any instructions to a minimum, and never asked Tom to say anything, but just expected him to do as he was told. As she stood behind Tom, having positioned herself exactly correctly so that she would be able to land the cane wholly on Tom‘s bottom, making sure that the end of the cane landed on his bottom rather than in the air to ensure maximum pain, she smiled wickedly as she said, "Don’t worry about screaming out. I wear ear muffs specially designed to make sure I hear very little, and the room is soundproof in any case.” 

As Officer Merton was explaining this to him, Tom had the weirdest of sensations. Instead of being worried about the pain he was going to receive, he was relishing the feeling of helplessness, being tied as he was to the caning table, having no way of defending himself, and knowing that there was no one who was going to help him, no matter how much pain he struggled with.  

As he had those feelings of helplessness, he also felt himself getting another erection. In those moments, he thought that by experiencing what he had been obsessed with, which was being caned, it was actually making his obsession so worthwhile. After all, if he hadn’t had the obsession, he certainly wouldn’t have searched the Internet, found the site where he could purchase the Punishment Form, and end up here, at his local Discipline Centre, about to be caned.  

When Tom was being secured to the caning table, he saw, not far from his face, a computer screen. It had a huge zero on the screen. That was good, he told himself, because he would be able to see how many strokes he had received so far, and, therefore, know how many more he had to receive. He hadn’t read about that anywhere, and had often wondered when fantasising about being caned, how he would keep count. Would he be able to keep count, in fact? Well, now he knew he didn’t have to. That was really cool, he told himself. 

Perhaps Tom’s only concern was now the number of strokes, but, then again, that was what he wanted, as he had the choice at the time to go for a Punishment Form with thirty-six strokes or seventy-two strokes. Why else would he have gone for seventy-two, if he really didn’t want it? 

Even then, he told himself that, if he wasn’t able to cope with the pain, he didn’t care. He just wanted to suffer it. Wasn’t that what being obsessive was all about? Experiencing the obsession no matter what happened? Wasn’t it better that it really did hurt, because then he would work out better whether his obsession with being caned was strong enough to want to happen again. After all, he was already feeling sexually excited as he was secured to the caning table, and had certainly read up on several websites how submissive's dealt with the pain, cried their eyes out, but, once it was over, were smiling, and, so often, gave themselves huge orgasms, whether they were men or women. 

As happy as Tom felt up to then, from that moment on, things changed for Tom. 

What Tom couldn’t have seen, even if he had seen Officer Merton‘s face, was how she smiled to herself, because, having seen Tom’s erection in the waiting area, she would love to have said to him, ‘Enjoy yourself, offender,’ because she certainly knew that this wasn’t the first offender she was going to punish who clearly wanted to be punished in this way. She knew that, when she filled in the post punishment form, she would be stating that, in her view, he was a willing participant, because the authorities were trying to keep a record of the likely percentage of offenders who offended on purpose to be sent to the Discipline Centre. So far, it was still a relatively low percentage, and the good results clearly overrode that small percentage. 

So, Officer Merton had the full intent of making sure this was a really hard caning, right from the start, because she certainly enjoyed giving the cane, to both men and women, and she knew that she regularly went to the toilet between caning sessions to finger herself to huge orgasms. She knew this was her job, whereas for people like this particular offender ,who wanted to come here, it was an obsession, but people like him were helping her to satisfy her own sexual arousal, and, she was being paid for it. 

Officer Merton didn’t wait after that, pulled her arm back, landed the first stroke, which, as always, was a very hard one. There was no buildup, or anything like that which would be more likely to happen in a sexual setting, because, after all, this was an official punishment. 

As Tom felt the cane bite into his bottom for the first time ever, he yelped. That stroke hurt much more than he had even come close to contemplating. After all, he had spoken to friends of his who had been caned, and whilst their eyes were red even after six strokes, they had all said it wasn’t as bad as anyone imagined. Well, this wasn’t as bad as Tom had imagined, but worse. 

As stroke after stroke landed, Tom was definitely questioning his obsession. How could anyone want this level of pain, he asked himself, even as he yelped louder and louder as each stroke landed. 

As each stroke still landed, and each time Tom let out another loud yelp, his eyes were closed tightly as he struggled with the pain, and knew that he was hissing in and out through clenched teeth. He had even counted to himself how long a gap there was between each stroke, and, in those first few strokes, counted fifteen seconds. At least he managed to recover within those fifteen seconds, open his eyes, and see the number of strokes he had already received steadily increasing. 

Tom remembered seeing the number twenty-four on the screen, and then happily told himself that he really was coping much better than he had expected. Yes, the strokes were much harder, and he hated to think what his bottom looked like then, not to mention what it was going to look like at the end of the seventy-two strokes. On the plus side, though, if this was as bad as it got, then he reckoned his obsession was worthwhile, and he would have to buy more punishment forms in future. 

However, after just a few more strokes, whilst Tom did manage to open his eyes in that fifteen second gap, he saw that his vision was becoming blurred. The last number he remembered seeing, was thirty-six. That reminded him about the form that he could have purchased with just thirty-six strokes as the punishment. 

As the strokes still continued to land, one after the other, persistently, with what Tom was still pretty sure was a fifteen-second gap between each one, he found himself letting out sobs, and then crying. How could he cry, he told himself, being in his forty's? What a wimp he must be. 

As the strokes still continued, and the pain was so bad, Tom was struggling so much, but he still managed to work out that this level of pain was the whole purpose of the punishment. It was supposed to hurt, just like any caning, to convince the offender not to offend in future. In fact, even as Tom was crying, he told himself that this was the right type of punishment, and far cheaper than building a whole load of additional prisons. 

As stroke after seemingly never-ending stroke landed, and Tom couldn’t make out the number on the screen in front of him, he just lay there, pulling at the wrist cuffs, but knowing that that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He just took stroke after stroke because, after all, he had no alternative. 

Eventually, the caning did stop. What didn’t stop, was the intense stinging of his bottom, nor the tears flooding down his face. However, as he calmed down, whilst the intense stinging of his bottom continued, he realised that his erection, which had disappeared after the first few strokes, had now reappeared. This told him that, as much as it was painful, it was also sexually arousing. He knew that he got aroused fantasising about the pain, but was ecstatic finding out that he was still aroused with the actual caning. 

As his erection stiffened, Tom also told himself that he was so pleased that he had gone with the seventy-two strokes rather than bottling it and taking thirty-six strokes. That was a real win for him as well. 

Even as Officer Merton was undoing each of the leather straps, Tom was already thinking about the next time he wanted to come here and be caned. Well, that told him he was going to keep his obsession about being caned, but just hoped that he would now be able to keep his obsessive thoughts well away whenever he was at work or with his friends, and only think these thoughts when he was by himself. 

Tom was dismissed by Officer Merton with just a finger pointing to the door, and the instruction, “Get going, I have another offender to cane.” 

Tom really didn’t mind now being spoken down to like that, because, after all, in her eyes, he was an offender. So, now that his eyes had cleared slightly, he walked out of the punishment room and back into the waiting area, where he went to his locker and quickly got changed back into his clothes. Well, quickly, until he pulled his underpants up too quickly, scraping his bottom, and he gasped with the pain. He was more careful after that, and saw it as a good pointer for the future. 

After completing getting dressed again, Tom made his way out into the corridor. As he walked along the corridor to the main reception, he saw Officer Merton coming towards him. She had come out of the ladies' toilet. She didn’t see him, or at least so far as Tom could tell she didn’t, but that left him smiling as he walked to the reception, thinking that, just maybe, Officer Merton had just been to the toilet simply to give herself an orgasm. That was a thought he took with him as he made his way home on the bus, deliberately standing in case the seats were too hard for him to sit on comfortably. 

Once home, Tom immediately went to the bathroom, pushed his trousers and underpants down to the floor, turned to look at his bottom in the mirror, and gasped at all of the raised thick welts that covered his bottom. He now knew exactly why his bottom was stinging so much. 

As Tom ran his fingers along the welts, he immediately got his erection back, so, kicking off his trousers and underpants, and taking off his shirt, he went to his bedroom, lay on his bed on his side, and clasped a hold of his erect penis. As he stroked his penis, thinking about being back on the caning table with the beautiful Officer Merton disciplining him, he exploded in a huge orgasm, knowing that his cum was soaking his tummy and the sheet. 

Tom knew then that there was no way he was going to stop wanting to be caned again. He was so thankful that he had had the obsession all those years, and was just sorry that it had taken so long to experience being caned.  

He knew that, going forward, he would be able to control his obsession better, hopefully not losing focus when at work or talking to friends or like, and that having experienced being caned he was now stronger for it. After all, this particular obsession didn’t harm anyone but himself, and now he knew all of that pain produced the most fabulous sexual arousal, he was already looking forward to the next time.