He roughly kicked her legs apart and in until she stood just outside the metal legs of the bench. He attached her ankles to these with Velcro straps. 'Bend over!' he snapped. She draped herself over the block and he shoved her hard against the end then used more Velcro straps to attach her wrists to the front legs of the bench. The additional pressure on her belly made the butt plug rise from her slightly and the dildo shift uncomfortably. Considering her available position and Peter's recent predilection to penetrating her from the rear, she considered that receiving a good fucking was a fine price to pay for her disobedience. Instead, he started one of his lectures. 'You didn't make a mistake and speak. You wilfully disobeyed me despite my stressing the importance of your silence. I thought we had an understanding?' She silently played along and batted her eyes lids at him a few times. 'I also told you about eye contact, that's six.' He went on, 'I expect you think what you've received so far has been painful, but this will hurt a great deal more. If you truly want to be a pony you will take this without a word and show me you agree. No red ball this time. Tell me to stop and that's it. End of punishment. End of pony-play for good, Finito. Capice?.' She gulped and started to cry. She had not realised quite how important this, and hence she, was to him. She longed to hug him and beg forgiveness but had to suffice with blinking back her tears as she gazed down at his feet. He left the room. 'Oh shit' she thought to herself. 'Well done girl, you've just blown another one.' She choked back a sob and her mood lightened when he returned a couple of minutes later. He had removed his shirt and held a whippy cane like the type one reads of in Dickensian schools. She looked up and down his muscled body. For a guy in his late thirties in a sedentary job he kept himself in pretty good shape she thought eyeing the flat stomach and the start of the hairy trail she loved to follow down with her tongue. Her attention turned to the cane. Corporal punishment had long been banned at her school when she went there and she had no experience of the cane, but felt it couldn't be that much worse than the crop so she tensed herself to receive her punishment. It was the vicious sound of the noise as the cane hissed though the air that made her revise her assessment of just how much different this was. The pain seemed to start simultaneously across both buttocks as a dull thump, like being punched. It immediately tore into her like dozens of red-hot knives until it reached the very pit of her stomach and caused waves of nausea to flood over her. She gasped and clenched her fists as the burning waves bounced back and forth. 'Oh God!' she silently screamed. She'd never felt anything like that before and the tears ran down her face. 'One' he simply stated then braced himself to deliver the next blow. He lined the cane up just above the previous target and Lucinda felt the plug shift inside her adding to her feeling of nausea. The second blow exploded in her mind as a dark red bloom and she felt her bowels spasm as the plug transmitted the force to her organs. The third was on the base of the dildo and across the tops of her thighs. This time her cervix received the transferred force and she gagged and tasted bile in her mouth. She coughed it out as her thighs seared. Peter leant and whispered in her ear, 'Stop?' he enquired. She slowly shook her head and felt her mind start to escape to the haven of her inner space. He kicked her knees closer to the bench such that her sex thrust out and he rubbed the cane over the part of the strap that separated the top of her labia and covered her clitoris. She felt rivulets of perspiration run down her upper arms and from her face in anticipation of what this would do to her most delicate part. She just hoped the strap would deaden the impact somewhat. The blow sent a shaft of pain through her abdomen that swelled into a dull ball of pain then mushroomed up to her breasts and nipples before it suffused her entire body with a warm glow that made it impossible to distinguish whether it was pain or pleasure. It was like the pegs multiplied ten fold. On the fifth blow, her body dissolved into hundreds of tiny spasms that sparked and chased each other like an electric discharge with no identifiable source. It was similar to the prior feelings she had with her nipple only stimulated orgasms. She was acutely aware now of the twin intruders penetrating her and, gripping the bench with her hands and thighs, instinctively started to hump the foam block as she both moaned and sobbed uncontrollably. Tears, sweat, gel, mucus and vaginal secretions ran from her as the last blow took her over the edge into a 'soft' climax that made her tremble and shudder with her conscious mind curiously detached as it observed her reactions.

The reality of the physical abuse brought her back to a melee of fiery knives a bone numbing aches. Exhausted, she lay panting with her cheek in a pool of saliva and mucus. Peter stroked her cheek. 'You may speak. Are you alright?' She nodded slowly, unable to speak. He released the straps and massaged her shoulders and arms that just hung limply. He carefully turned her face to him and, ignoring her state, kissed her on the mouth and sought her tongue. The familiar affectionate probing brought her round and she half rolled over and hugged him as she returned his kiss with passion. 'I love you' he whispered softly and stroked her hair. She paused a while, 'I know,' she smiled. Without another word between them, he helped her to part stand and lean groggily on the bench before leading to the centre spot where he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again as he held her tight. She could feel the heat of his chest against her still aroused nipples and the straining of his penis at her belly. She ran her gloved fingers through his hair then kissed his neck. 'I came' she said. 'Huh?' he grunted. 'I'm not absolutely sure, but I think I climaxed.' 'I know,' he smiled, 'That was the idea.' She moved her head back and held his face. 'You knew?' He nodded. 'You have to experience it to understand that pain and pleasure are simply our mind's interpretation of the almost same thing. It's just that we generally take over-stimulus the wrong way.' She just stared at him. 'What?' he asked. 'But you do love me?' He hugged her again, laughing. 'Yes, I do love you.' 'That's good then because, despite feeling like my bum is being boiled like a lobster, I love you too,' she grinned and added, 'Master'. She pawed the ground and, pointing at the bridle, opened her mouth and gawped. 'In a moment,' he replied, 'let's get you cleaned up... a bit.' She didn't rise to the bait.

He fetched a bowl of warm water and a large, soft bath towel and gently bathed her buttocks and spread thighs. She fought back more tears and smiled bravely. He went on to bathe all the visible parts of flesh while she held her arms out then, patting her dry, massaged some cream into her wounds. She smelt strongly of soap and aloe vera. As a finishing touch he lightly rubbed baby oil over her skin and clothing until it gleamed.