The first one I got right away. I had forgotten a towel to protect the bedding. He gave me a tremendous hard smacking with the cane for that one, and then I leaped up to fetch the towel.
The next ones I wasn't sure about. I returned to lie face down on the towel.
"You don't like me wearing socks, Master?" I ventured.
"No, that isn't it." SMACK, smack, smackity, smack he went on my ass.
"I haven't sucked your cock?"
"No, I didn't tell you to do that yet". More smacking.
I thought some more but couldn't come up with anything that he usually required.
"Where are we?" he asked sternly.
"In bed, Master".
"And what collar are you supposed to wear there?"
Derp. "The leather collar", I answered.
After another really hard blow from the cane, he let me up to change from the silver to the leather. I hadn't figured this for a rule, except at night, and this was the middle of the day yesterday, but now I know, hey?
I was feeling sheepish, utterly submissive and could not even look at him now as I went to the dresser drawer, switched collars and came back to lie in front of him. He has this effect sometimes.
One more thing still to guess. I thought and thought and could not come up with it. He continued to cane me. Finally he told me he wanted some ropes to tie me down. Now that one I couldn't be expected to guess, could I? I didn't think so. Hmmmph.
I fetched the ropes. First he had me suck his cock and fuck him a little bit, then he tied me face down, my legs together with ropes up to my knees. He went around the the headboard and said "Wrists through."
I swiftly stuck my wrists through the rails of the headboard, and he tied them. Now I was stretched out in a pretty immobile line and I had a flash of fear about not being able to get away, before I relaxed against the ropes. Why was I even thinking of getting away? I have no idea, it is just the certainty of being tied completely down that brings on a flash. But then the security of the ropes comforted me. I wiggled against them and relaxed, secure and happy in my bondage.
Then he began to strike me in earnest with the cane.
"One and one is two". That equals 5 strikes with the cane, following a rhythm of the inchworm song.
"Two and two are four". That is seven strikes right there.
"Four and four are eight." That was 17 blows, the way he does it. One heavy one for each beat of the song rhythm, and then eight really fast ones after, for the "eight" part.
I lost track of what he was singing, and when he stopped matching number of hits to the song and went simply with the rhythm, until he got to the "approximately 32,000" part of the inchworm song. I know that were probably a lot of strokes though.
My butt is sore, but what really hurts today is my thighs where he gave my bruises another thorough punching on top of the first bruises.