I don’t do canes

Canes are a hard limit of mine, the look and feel of them gives me flashbacks and triggers panic in me.

However I felt my sadist was missing out. I decided I should make him a cane. I took a branch from one of our fruit trees (morelo cherry) and I spent a couple of hours whittling it away with a Stanley knife. All the bark is gone and the bumps where new branches jutted out are now smoother. The surface is not utterly smooth, but it is now safe. Along the “cane” you can see darker bits of wood grain that have been sliced into.

Cane
The branch itself was not straight and perfect, but the bends and kinks add to the pain. It has a gradual curve along the branch which makes it good for flicking too.

I presented it to him as he got in from work and I almost regretted giving him a new toy. I was shrieking. I had tears in my eyes and was tempted to safe word, then I caught a glimpse of his face. His face had a massive grin and was clearly loving it. A few more strikes and he rolls me over in a dominant manner and passionately kisses me. I feel safe, warm, protected and loved.

No words were needed but he let’s me know he’s proud of me. I melt in his arms, feeling utter love. He is my Top, my sadist, my Husband, but he’s also my safe place. I’m learning to trust him as much as I love him.

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