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That’s when the idea hit me and I asked, “Would you pay me to take the caning for you?” I could see Charlene giving that some thought. As she did so did I. My credit card bill was due for payment and I knew I couldn’t pay it all off. It was getting me down. Other bills were sitting on my sideboard. I reckoned the gas could get cut off pretty soon and that would give me all sorts of problems. So actually taking money could be better than having sex, I quickly realised. Suddenly I was taking the conversation seriously. The cane didn’t really worry me overly. I had been caned several times at school. Sure it hurt, for a while, but it wasn’t as though the pain lasted for ever. More like just a few hours. I knew the system, though. A friend of mine, Jackie, had been caned a couple of weeks before. She showed me the email so I knew about the unique code. I walked with her to the Discipline Centre and waited for her in the Companion’s Room; where anyone accompanying the person being caned. She could think of nothing except finding new places to touch, new things to stroke. She continued to flash on the vision of a nude Professor Wells. Now, he held his swollen prick in his hand. He was jerking it up and down in the same rhythm that Karen was using to fuck herself with the washcloth.She felt a tension building up inside of her. She was sure that she was about to experience that same orgasmic release which she had felt the other night when Jay had fucked her so tenderly. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to happen. She realized with a return of the shame that she had experienced earlier, that she was masturbating. She had always been taught to think of masturbation as "self-abuse", a sinful and disgusting practice. But this didn't seem disgusting in the least. Then she felt the first wave about to begin. With a moan, she pulled the cloth from her cunt."No!" she said aloud. She quickly rinsed the soap from her body and turned off the water. Even though she felt a kind of.
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But there’s only one way to find out.” Kneeling down now, Kerry turned toward me and offered one of the shoes to my right foot. I lifted my foot a few inches off the floor, and Kerry took it in his hands. He ran his fingers over the length of my insole, making my cock stiffen even more. He then effortlessly slipped the shoe on me, but it felt as if he was caressing my whole foot the entire time it was happening. He then extended the left one to me, and I put my right foot down. I did my best to balance, but had to reach out to the wall to steady myself. Again, I felt a gentle but purposeful touch from Kerry’s graceful hands as he placed the second shoe on my left foot. I had never worn any shoes with a heel higher than wingtips, and I felt intoxicated as I replaced my left foot on the floor, now appreciating the full effect of how both elevated heels enveloped my lowest extremities. I also became acutely aware that Kerry, still kneeling in front of me, had his head no more.

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