Pain slut

I'm a little late in posting this but here goes, about a week ago Miss H was in the middle of a quite extreme session of caning my ass when she suddenly stopped and I heard a muted laugh. I wasn't really sure what was going on but like a good slave I maintained my position, bent over grabbing my ankles, and patiently waited for what I assumed would be the next cane strike. Instead, Miss H motioned me to stand up so I could see the reason for the temporary pause in my beating.

In her outstretched hands was the beautiful red rattan cane, splintered and snapped in two. Miss H had caned me so long and hard that night the cane had actually broken over my ass. This wasn't a cheap piece of junk either, but a gorgeous, hand dipped cane that I had acquired at Le Chateau Exotique several years ago. Standing there looking at the broken implement of torture I wasn't sure if I should be upset over losing such a nice cane, or weirdly happy that I had taken such punishment without cracking myself.

Since Miss H prefers the cane over a paddle, belt, etc we've already begun looking into getting a nice new one. Pretty sure it's going to be another rattan cane but just to be thorough were also looking at synthetic materials like lexan and even steel as well. Speaking of which, Miss H also told me she was interested in getting one of those telescopic police batons as well. I found one on Amazon.com that I think she'll like and it's only like $20 which isn't bad. The idea of her using though? That makes me a little nervous...