Bending over for Lady J

J was my lover, companion and disciplinarian for several years in the 80s/90s. She had been my lover for several months when we were very young - but not like this.
Now we were divorced grownups, having a second chance. Sex was all that mattered - but of course there's more than that to a stable relationship.
Despite everything, I found it hard to behave. Typical event: descending a steep staircase, after a late business meeting, my hand found its way up a colleague's skirt. It went further, and I know that J also had her moments.
So we decided on a pact. Misbehaviour = punishment, of a bare bottom nature.If nothing else, it made minor infidelities feel better.
I was the first to get it: six with a sandal, while kneeling in the bath.
Then, after a certain Sharon Stone moment, it was her turn.
Then we invested in a cane. Slender, swishy, sexy. It hurt. Suddenly, this was J's show.
Another typical event. I arrive home. J sits there in her dark uniform - very Head Mistress. She hands me a restaurant bill. The cane stands beside her.
No - I had not been buying some floozy lunch; it said Table 2 - not 2 Covers. For once, I am totally innocent.
But there's no going back.
I don't think we're playing anymore; J is angry.
I drop my trousers and pants. Bend over to touch my toes. Hear her flex the cane. I'm terrified but aroused. I know that the centre of her view is a swollen scrotum.
"I'm giving you 12." Swissh! Whack!! She pauses between every stroke. Ever since my first over-the-knee by my mother, when I was six, I have had an erection when beaten by a lady. Even if I could hardly stand.
She gives me one more for luck. I stand up with raging cheeks and a huge hard-on. But it would be all wrong to fuck Teacher, wouldn't it? So as she pulls her pants to one side, I kneel and pleasure her orally.

J had become the perfect dominatrix. She loved that view of quivering striped buttocks, vast scrotum and giant penis. I'd never been so swollen.
We took the cane everywhere; it was inspected with a grin by a Customs lady, who asked us who used it.

In the end, it became too important. There was less fucking. The relationship faltered and ended.

But to this day, if (as most people do) I masturbate in the shower, it's J's cane I hear over the running water.

If you're a lady between 40-odd and any age at all, you might like to exchange notes.

Ricxx