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Alison woke full of Sunday morning joy, her confidence brimming over, thrilled by the sight of Adam in tight black boxers bearing two steaming mugs of coffee. She smiled at her man as she sat up to take her mug from him, relishing the warm aroma.

This morning she must face him, her lie, and the cane. It was their new currency. He'd asked if there was anything he should punish her for and she'd said 'No', when the truth was 'Yes'. Her nerve may have failed her, but it was no excuse.

Her taste of the cane yesterday had warned her it was not to be trifled with. She'd met its challenge. The more it hurt, the more meaningful it was to accept it with grace. Overnight, her guilt hadn't eased. Yesterday she'd faltered. Today she'd have her weakness thrashed out of her. She deserved it, and he cared enough to do it. Despite her caning yesterday, they'd agreed not to let the lie linger.

He leaned against the wall beside the window and sipped his own coffee while they chatted. Draining his mug, he said, "I have to discipline you for lying. Neither of us wants outright lying in our relationship. You let yourself down. I'll be back at 10am to cane you. When you're ready, sit on the bed and think about what it means to lie to me."

She acknowledged his instruction. She had an hour to get ready - plenty of time to think, consider her behavior with a sober attitude and prepare herself to be caned.

"You understand I must do this," he said, dissatisfied with her brief acknowledgment.

"I do, and I appreciate it. I'll be ready."

"Good," he said, leaving their bedroom and closing the door behind him.

She put down her empty mug, flung off the covers and went to the ensuite. Stripping off the white panties she'd slept in, she turned to see the remains of her three cane stripes in the mirror. They were already fading and didn't sting anywhere near as much as yesterday.

Turning on the shower, she stepped under the warm stream of water. It was a brisk awakening for her bare bottom. Jets rained against the faint ridges on the bottom, reviving a pleasant, warm sting. She twisted the knob to increase the intensity.

Lying to his direct question had been the work of a moment, but a stupid moment. It hurt her to think about it. It shouldn't have happened. At least she'd confessed without further delay. She wanted him to deal with her hard. It would be more proof that she could rely on him.

Patting her curves dry with her thick cream towel, she padded naked into the bedroom and stood in front of her drawers. She was a girl in her twenties being caned by her boyfriend and wanted to be mature about her punishment. She selected black bikini panties, slipped them on and turned to admire her bottom in the mirror.

Turning back, she delved in her drawer and extracted black Calvin Klein string bikini panties instead. Exchanging her underwear, she studied her behind in the mirror again. A sharper cut, the panties exposed much more of her bare bottom. Proud of her choice, she added a plain black bra for sexy neatness.

She made the bed, sat on it and waited. Being strapped on her hand, all she could do was hold it out and she'd done that in college with Nina. But having her bottom punished provided more ways to cooperate. Her string bikini panties felt pleasant and vulnerable.

He entered the bedroom at 10am, still in his tight black boxers but with a plain black tee as well.

"Bring me the cane," he commanded.

She walked to the wardrobe and reached for the cane he'd placed on top. Her panties rose as she stretched. She let them, walked back across the room and handed him the cane.

This was the girl he adored. Confident, despite the inevitable pain she faced and unafraid to apologize with her body. He'd seen her skimpy choice as she'd walked across the room and admired how she'd let them rise.

"Turn. I want to check you're not too sore from yesterday."

His finger traced one of her ridges from the edge, across her panties and back to bare skin again. Pleasure flashed through her sex as he inspected the mark he'd made.

She turned back to face him, her face hot, her nipples rock hard.

He flexed the cane between his hands. "You lied. It's simple. Your punishment will be too. Six of the best with the cane across your panties, hard. I don't want to add to your discomfort this morning, but I must. Bear it with the same dignity you showed yesterday."

"I will," she said. His subtle compliment thrilled her.

"Pile pillows on the edge of the bed and bend over them to raise your bottom," he instructed.

Stacking three pillows to support her, she bent over and placed her arms on the covers. It was where she wanted to be.

"Your standard of behavior slipped," he said. "Sometimes owning up is going to cost you a sore backside. You must accept this, be honest and take your punishment."

His tone scorched her mind. She deserved this. She needed it.

The rattan rod lined up against her bottom and tapped a soft warning.

It sliced across her cheeks and took her breath away. Her mind leaped to hold her still. She panted through the pain. It seared another thin line of torment into her tender cheeks. She hissed with fury, not at being beaten, but at her behavior. She'd lied. He was right to cane her hard. She let the pain wash over her and accepted her agony. Molten heat poured into her sex and blossomed to soothe her distress.

The cane impacted the soft skin low on her bottom. Sharp pain sizzled and deep hurt shot into her behind. He branded another hard stroke beside the last, doubling her discipline. She squeezed out a yell between clenched teeth.

Her deep acceptance electrified her body, pumping pleasure from head to toe. It was more than she'd bargained for, but what she deserved. She bore her pain, but it hurt. It fucking hurt. So did lies. Rich contrition flooded her. The cane was fair discipline.

"Next time you feel like holding back; don't. Just bend over and we'll deal with it."

His scolding reached deep inside her. She turned her head to the side, "I'm sorry. I deserve this."

"Two last strokes. They'll come fast. Stay still."

She pressed her arms into the bed, determined to take it with honor. The cane cracked against her panties, branding two more lines of harsh punishment through her thin cotton. Her heart soared. He hadn't let her off, and she hadn't faltered.

"Stand up," he said.

She held her punished cheeks as she stood. The pain was sensational, but sincere.

He reached up and put the cane away. "You took it well. Come here."

She went to him. He wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight. The pain didn't lessen, but it softened with his kind embrace. He'd been hard on her, just as she'd wanted. She respected him.

She broke free and stood back. "Thank you for caning me. I'm sorry I lied. It was s stupid loss of confidence for a moment, but it's no excuse. I'm your girlfriend and I will not lie to you."

"I respect you. You are my girlfriend and nothing could make me happier."

Her face lit up. She was his, and she'd have a distinct reminder all day. She leaned into him and whispered, "Now fuck me harder than you caned me."

He grabbed her hips and steered her to the bed. Her bottom burned into the covers. He climbed onto the bed and held himself over her. His kiss penetrated her lips and delivered firm respect.

He whispered, "You chose skimpy panties. I'm proud of you. You respected your punishment, and you respected me."

"I wanted it to hurt as much as possible so you could forgive me," she breathed.

"I forgive you," he said, rolling and shucking his shorts. He ripped off his tee as she flung aside her bra. His fingers beat hers to her panties. She lifted her hips as he swept them down her long, sexy legs.

Splayed naked, she massaged her desperate clit and skimmed her tight nipples, unashamed of her exposure. He moved over her, holding himself on one arm and thrust deep. She grasped his hardness, desperate to hold him deeper.

Every nerve ending burned. "Oh god, don't stop," she breathed.

She grabbed his bum. He plunged hard and burst his pleasure. A torrent of orgasms roared through her sex. She shook under him, overtaken by the rapid outbreak.

As he fell onto the bed beside her, she said, "Fuck. You meant that. God, you're good."

"Thank you," he grinned, "but it takes two and you're the hottest girl in the world."

Fucked, forgiven and bathed in Sunday morning sunlight, she felt like it.