Cajun (M/F)

Erotic fiction by guest author Loki_Darksong

Jeanette stood in the office, waiting.

“Se courber la bas le chaise, Jeanette.”  Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, Jeanette bent over the back of the chair. She took a firm grip on the seat.

“Lever votre jupe et haler en bas votre culottes!”

This slightly irritated Jeanette. Couldn’t he have ordered her to pull up her skirt and pull down her panties before she bent over? She frowned, exposing her bottom. She gave him a nice view of her panty covered rear, black cotton over dark brown skin. “Combien?” she asked pulling down her panties.

“Vingt coup,” was the answer. “Avec de canne!”

The butterflies got worse. Twenty with a cane was a tough lesson. “Comme de avec le pagille au lieu de canne?” she asked as if a paddle was any better!

There was a chuckle. “Non! Vingt avec de canne.” The cane lightly tapped Jeanette’s rear. “Et tu veux compte chaque coup.” The cane stopped tapping. It lay on the center of her bottom. “Comprende!”

“Oui maitre,” answered Jeanette. Her bottom felt cool right now. Twenty strokes would definitely change that. She hoped that she could keep count. Extras were not on her agenda for this session. She steadied herself for the first stroke.

There was a quick whooshing sound, followed by a thud as the cane bit into her skin. Jeanette gasped! It had a sharp sting that seared across her rear. “Un!” she hissed as the pain grew.

Then the cane lifted off of her skin. Jeanette could not see it, but she could feel the welt that had grown there. The cane flashed down again! Jeanette tightened her hands. Her legs rubbed together, trying to fight the smart. “Deux!” she grunted. Another stroke made her lift her heels up of the floor. “Trois!” came out as a bitten back yelp.

Jeanette’s chastiser was thorough. Taking his time, he carefully placed each stroke across the bared bottom before him. “Quatre!”  A gasp! “Cinq!” A whine! “Six!” came out through clenched teeth! A minute later she jackknifed her knees and cried out, “Sept!” as the cane caught her low in her across her sweet spot.

The count continued. “Huit!” “Neuf!” “Dix!” “Onze!” “Douze!” Jeanette’s dreads flew as her head snapped back. The stroke had caught her again her sweet spot, hard! While it did not redden in the regular sense, the double ridge welts stood out quite well on her skin. Combined with her weaving from side to side, Jeanette’s bottom made a very appealing sight. It was almost tempting enough for her caner to stop and pursue another course of action.

Almost, but not quite!

“Treize!” yelled Jeanette. “Quatorze!” “Quinze!” “Seize!” “Dix-sept!” She was crying now! She didn’t try and stop the tears. There was no point. She felt every welt throbbing! She gave up on trying to keep still. Each stroke made her jump and dance to its painful tune.

“Dix-huit!!” “Dix-nuef!!!” The last one was coming up. And Jeanette knew it would be the worst. “Vingt!!!” She hated being right!

Jeanette’s backside was on fire! She wanted nothing more than to jump up and try to put it out! But she had to remain bent over until permission was given. Extra strokes were not in the game plan right now! Of course staying bent over did not mean she had to stay still. Jeanette had to comfort herself by twisting slightly as the throbbing slowly ebbed and waned. The tears had slowed, but she could not help her sobbing.

The caner waited a few minutes, quietly taking in the sight from just outside of Jeanette’s vision. Then he finally said, “Tu pouvoir se lever, Jeanette.”  The order was given somewhat reluctantly. He always did like the results of his work!

Jeanette groaned as she slowly stood. She hissed through her teeth when her hands first touched her rear. Catching her reflection in a nearby full length mirror, she could see plainly what her fingers felt. Rich lines stood out on her chocolate skin. Some of them were actually darker in color than she was! And all of them were beyond sore. “Bastard!” she growled. “Did you have to be so hard?”

Her friend and impromptu tutor smiled, unfastening his own dreadlocks. “Well you wanted to be tutored for your test,” he said toying with the cane in his hand. “And I didn’t hear you suggest something else.”

Jeanette rolled her eyes. “Well anyway, how did I do?” She hissed as she traced another welt. “I would be pissed if this was all for nothing.”

“Pretty good.” Was what her ‘tutor’ said, kissing Jeanette on the back of her neck. He had come up behind her while she rubbed. “Translation and punctuation were all fine.” He lightly placed his hands on her bottom, feeling the heat of his handiwork. “Even under duress you kept it up. I’d say you’re ready for the test.”  A hand strayed around to her front. “And I think something else too,” he whispered into her ear.

Jeanette purred. She could ‘feel’ him and knew what they both wanted. She walked back over to the chair and suddenly turned it around so that if a person could see themselves if they were bent over it.

Which is just what she did!

“I want you to do one more thing for me” she said as her tutor came up besides her. She lifted her skirt back up and clear of her backside.

“Ok,” he agreed, stroking her nether lips. “What do you want?”

Jeanette moaned softly, lustfully at his touch. “I want you to take that cane and give me six more strokes!” She didn’t know where that came or why, but she didn’t care! She arched her back, pushing her bottom full out, feet planted on the floor.  She looked at herself in the mirror, eye to eye bracing herself.

“And I want to howl with each one!” In the mirror, Jeanette was grinning. And the cane flashed through the air, she grinned as she howled!

                                                       Fine!

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© Loki_Darksong 2012, used by very kind permission