♥ Site recommended story ♥
A brand spanking new story by hot guest author JOELSTRAP. This story is exclusive to The Canery! All the characters are 18 or over. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!
Out Of The Bottle by Joelstrap
“What’s that, Buster?” asked Lee, pointing at an old, dirty-green bottle which was sitting on the end of a bookshelf in Buster’s room.
“It’s an ….er….old bottle,” replied Buster vaguely.
“Funnily enough, I managed to work that out for myself,” retorted Lee. “So, why you got an old bottle on your shelf?”
“Why not?”
Lee gave an exasperated sigh.
“Shit! Getting an answer outta you is harder than getting a loan outta my dad,” he declared.
“You don’t just keep an old bottle for nothing,” observed Marco. “there’s gotta be a reason.”
“There is,” said Buster.
The boys looked at him expectantly; but he said no more.
“So, you maybe gonna tell us the reason?” enquired Robbie quietly.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Okay; maybe we will. Is that so bad? It’s not like we’re gonna smash the bloody thing on your head!”
“It’s the genie’s bottle,” said Buster, flushing slightly.
“Genie’s bottle,” repeated Marco. “Like in Arabian Nights?”
“Yeh. I found it on the beach when we were on holiday when I was a little kid and dad told me the story of the fisherman who found the bottle with the genie in it; and said this might have been the bottle. He said I should keep it in case the genie came back and granted me a wish. So I kept it,” declared Buster defiantly, standing up and glaring round at the listening boys. “Any of you guys got a problem with that?”
“Course not,” said Lee pacifically. “You can keep anything you like.”
“But I guess the genie hasn’t come back yet to give you a wish?” asked Marco with a barely-concealed grin.
Buster shook his head and said, “Let’s leave it, guys.”
“But…….” began Robbie.
“Shut it, Robbie!”
“I was only going to…….”
“I said shut it,” snarled Buster, taking a step towards Robbie; and there was a tension in the air.
“If a genie gave me a wish, I’d like to have a castle to live in,” asserted Marco quickly in an attempt to defuse the situation.
“But castles are usually in the middle of nowhere,” objected Lee. “You’d be bored outta your skull.”
“Nah, I’d invite lots of guys to come and stay and we’d have a ball.”
“So, what would you really like to do if you got a wish then, Lee?” asked Buster, sitting down again and looking more relaxed.
“I’d go off on a cruise right round the world for a year,” declared Lee.
“That sounds as boring as being alone in a bloody castle,” retorted Buster. “I’d go to the moon.”
“Oh, yeh? I’d guess the moon could be as boring as a castle in miles of emptiness,” said Marco.
“But he might not come back,” added Lee.
“Yeh, well, I guess there’s a bright side,” admitted Marco.
Buster gave him a slap on the head.
“You’re saying nothing, Robbie,” continued Buster. “What would you wish for?”
“To get the cane,” said Robbie.
“Whoa!” yelped Marco. “Did you say get the cane?”
Robbie, who had gone very red, nodded as every face turned to him.
“Why the hell would you want to get the cane?” demanded Lee.
Robbie shrugged.
“Well, you must have a reason,” said Buster.
“I have.”
There was a silence before Buster snapped irritably, “Well, what’s the reason?”
“I’ve never had the cane,” said Robbie.
“What; never?” asked Lee.
Robbie shook his head.
“But you’re eighteen! You must have got the cane sometime in over twelve years at school.”
“I went to a small private school, remember,” said Robbie, “and they didn’t do caning. I didn’t come here until I was in my fifth year at secondary-school, when I was sixteen. I’ve seen a couple of guys get the cane, but I never actually got it myself. Well, you guys know that.”
“I don’t think we ever thought you hadn’t got it when you were younger, before you came here though,” said Buster, “but the fact you’ve never had the cane doesn’t sound like a reason to want to get yourself thrashed.”
“Look, I dunno why I want to get the cane,” declared Robbie angrily, “but I know I do, okay?”
“Sorry,” said Marco, “it’s your wish and we shouldn’t be giving you a hard time. But now we’ve left school and we’re at college, it’s not likely to happen, is it?”
Robbie looked somewhat mollified; until Buster said, “Maybe he hasn’t worked out how to wank himself off and he thinks if he gets the cane, he’ll cum.”
“Go fuck yourself,” snapped Robbie getting to his feet and heading out. “And you need to read The Arabian Nights so you can get your stories sorted out,” he added as he slammed the door.
“I was joking,” protested Buster uncertainly, as the eyes of the other guys turned on him.
“Maybe we should each take off our belts and tan Buster’s hide,” suggested Marco.
“You fucking try, mate!”
“What did he mean about getting the stories sorted out?” asked Lee; but nobody replied.
Conversation slid off into other topics.
On his way home later in the evening, Marco noticed Robbie’s bike outside a late-night cafe, and went in. Robbie was sitting alone in a corner, an almost-empty mug in front of him. Marco went over.
“Hi. Like another?”
“Eh? Oh, well, yeh, if you’re offering,” replied Robbie.
Shortly, Marco returned with two mugs and sat himself down.
“We didn’t mean to offend you,” he began. “It was just guys’ banter.”
“I know,” replied Robbie. “I guess I over-reacted.”
“But you wouldn’t have over-reacted unless it was important to you,” remarked Marco perceptively.
“I shouldn’t have said what I’d wish for.”
“But you did.”
“I fucking know that!”
“And you’re not stupid,” added Marco.
“I fucking know that too!”
“And do you know that I’m not stupid either?” asked Marco.
“Of course I do.”
“So, I think you said it because you wanted us to know that you wanted to get the cane; and you knew it wasn’t going to be ignored,” said Marco.
“Okay, maybe I did,” conceded Robbie.
“So why did you storm out in the huff?” asked Marco.
“You’re the one who’s so clever,” retorted Robbie. “You tell me.”
“I think you expected a strong reaction, and you got it; but it wasn’t the reaction you hoped for,” said Marco.
“And what reaction was I hoping for?”
“I think you hoped one of us might volunteer to get hold of a cane and beat you.”
“Why the hell would I want one of you guys to beat me?” demanded Robbie.
“Why not?” asked Marco simply.
“Well, if that was the reason, it didn’t fucking work, did it?” retorted Robbie.
“Why do you think that?” Marco enquired.
“You were there! You heard what happened,” snapped Robbie.
“And now I’m here,” said Marco quietly.
“I can see that! I’m not…….”
“I know. You’re not fucking stupid! So, how about you tell me why I’m here.”
Robbie stared at him for several long seconds and then took a deep swallow from his mug.
“You’re offering to give me the cane?” he asked.
“No!”
“Well, what the hell are you……..?”
“I’m not offering to give you the cane and I’m not volunteering to give you the cane. I’m here because I’m going to give you the cane,” declared Marco firmly.
“Oh.”
Robbie was silent and took another long drink from his mug before glancing into Marco’s eyes.
“My place; ten o’clock Saturday morning,” said Marco.
“Eh? But I can’t…….”
“Yes, you can.”
“But I……”
“No!”
“But, Marco, we need to……”
“No!”
There was a lengthy period of silence until Robbie said tentatively, “You just want me to come to your place and get the cane? Just like that? No discussion first?”
“You don’t discuss getting the cane,” asserted Marco. “You bend over and you get it. The genie’s outta the bottle, Robbie. You let it out. So you either persuade it to get back in bloody quickly, or you get a caning.”
Robbie winced as his penis tried to force its way out of his denims. He blinked rapidly several times.
“Understand?” asked Marco.
Robbie capitulated.
“Yes,” he replied.
He sat looking at his coffee-mug for several seconds and then glanced up at Marco from beneath his brows.
“Where you gonna get a cane from?” he asked.
“Never you mind. I’ll get one.”
“And you knew they were mixing up the fisherman’s genie in the bottle story and Aladdin’s genie in the lamp story, didn’t you?”
Marco grinned broadly.
“Like we agreed, I’m not stupid. You played the Aladdin wishing-game like the rest of us, even though you knew Buster’s dad was confused and mixed up the story he told Buster when he was a kid. But by doing that, and saying you wanted to feel the cane, you let the fisherman’s genie out of its bottle That’s the genie that’s on the loose now; and like the fisherman’s genie, he’s coming for you with something nasty. A beating’s gonna happen unless you shove the genie back in, by not turning up at my house at ten on Saturday morning.”
***********************************
Robbie swithered about whether or not to go to Marco’s house on Saturday morning. He wanted to feel the cane across his bottom, but he was also nervous about it. He’d seen one or two older boys getting the cane hard and he knew from their reactions that it caused them intense pain. He wondered if perhaps he liked the idea of getting the cane more than he’d like actually getting it. He liked Marco and realised that he’d probably had to ‘borrow’ a cane illicitly, putting himself at some risk of being tanned if he was caught. That put some responsibility on Robbie to turn up as arranged. He definitely didn’t want Marco to fall out with him by letting him down. As he drifted off to sleep on Friday night, he resolved to go.
His resolve remained as rock-hard as his erection when he awoke the next morning; and he resolutely denied himself the relief his body wanted. Showered, dressed and breakfasted, he walked a long roundabout route to Marco’s house and arrived just before ten o’clock.
A grinning Marco admitted him and took him into the kitchen where he made coffee.
“Genie still out, huh?” Marco asked.
“Yeh. I want….I need to know,” replied Robbie. “So you managed to get a cane then?”
“No sweat. My uncle James is a teacher and he lives just a few streets away. He’s away over the Easter holiday and so I went into his house and borrowed his. My mum’s got a key so she can get in if there’s any problem while he’s away,” he explained.
“But wouldn’t he keep his cane at school?” asked Robbie.
“Yeh, he does; but he’s also got a cane which he keeps in his study at home. And if you want to know why he has a cane at home, it was so he could use it to cane his sons if they fucked up at home. They’re grown up and away now but the cane’s still there.”
“He gave his own boys the cane? Shit! I bet they didn’t like having a teacher for a dad,” opined Robbie.
“He’s given their cousin the cane a few times too,” said Marco.
“Yeh? Must be hell to have a cane in the family.”
“I’m their cousin,” said Marco.
“You mean……..you mean he’s caned you?”
“A few times,” Marco admitted. “And he fucking well knows what he’s doing too. Stings like the blazes.”
“So, where is it now?” asked Robbie. “Up in your room?”
“No. It’s here,” replied Marco; and he pulled open a cupboard and took out a cane which he sent whistling through the air in a vicious downward slash.
Robbie’s chair rocked perilously on two legs as he instinctively leapt back in alarm and, “Fucking hell, Marco! That’s brutal!” he gasped.
“And that’s what you’re gonna be getting,” Marco told him.
Robbie blinked rapidly several times and then took a drink from his coffee-mug. He eyed the cane anxiously and glanced once or twice at Marco from beneath his thick black curls.
“You….you’re gonna hit me that hard?” asked Robbie.
“Sure! I probably can’t hit quite as hard as my uncle, or some of the real hard caners at school, but I guarantee you’ll feel it,” said Marco.
Robbie rubbed his rump thoughtfully and said nothing.
“You wanna change your mind?” enquired Marco carefully.
“Yeh,” Robbie confessed; “but I’m not going to. I’m a bit scared, but I still need to feel it. I don’t really know why; but I definitely do.”
“Okay, mate. Let’s just do it. Come on up to my room.”
Marco took the cane and headed for the stairs followed by Robbie.
“Right, boy!” said Marco harshly as soon as they entered the room. “Jeans and briefs down and bend over with your hands on that chair!”
Robbie obeyed with alacrity, positioning himself as instructed. Marco rapped the cane across his buttocks several times and Robbie’s eager penis stretched desperately. There was an expectant pause and then a clear, sharp snap echoed through the room and Robbie flinched as a fierce, demanding sting blazed in his flesh. He quivered and then settled. The cane was wielded again and another furrow of fire lashed across Robbie’s behind making him clench his glutes urgently as he processed the sting. A third stroke, slightly lower, elicited a gasp and an urgent tensing and relaxing of his bottom. Robbie felt his cock straining for additional length. Twice more Marco wielded the cane and etched streaks of blazing pain across Robbie’s rear, making him squirm and forcing half-stifled yelps from him. A sixth stroke to his crease, where he was most sensitive, made him partly rise as he scrubbed at his flaming skin with both hands.
“Not allowed,” declared Marco. “Get your hands back on the chair. I’m giving you that one again.”
Reluctantly, Robbie positioned himself once more and then, as his penis rose to the occasion, he pushed up his buttocks in a provocative invitation. Marco accepted and lashed the cane hard across Robbie’s crease a second time. Robbie squealed and writhed but his hands continued to grasp the chair determinedly. Slowly the ferocious pain eased and he steadied his breathing and tried to still the quivering in his lower body.
“Stand up!”
Robbie obeyed slowly and stood, his head back and stomach forward, his body forming a perfect bow from hair to heels, while both hands caressed his throbbing bottom. For several seconds he stood, eyes closed, fully aroused; and then he straightened out, opened his eyes and glanced shyly at Marco.
Marco watched, fully aware that he himself had been rock-hard from the moment he’d first given Robbie the order to bare his behind and bend over.
“Okay,” declared Marco. “You got your wish. You’ve had the cane. What did you think of it?”
“It hurt a hell of a lot more than I thought it would, but…….”
He paused and rubbed his buttocks again as if he couldn’t quite believe what had been done to them.
“….but it got you in the balls as well, huh?” said Marco.
Robbie flushed and then, “Yeh. Fuck! I’ve got a boner I could make a hole in a brick-wall with,” he admitted.
“Me too,” agreed Marco. “I loved giving you the cane.”
“Your first time as well, eh?” said Robbie. “Never used a cane before?”
“No; never.”
“You felt like you knew what you were doing,” said Robbie.
“Aim right and hit hard,” replied Marco. “It’s not so hard to do.”
“It’s fucking hard if you’re on my end of the cane,” riposted Robbie with a rueful grin.
“Wouldn’t be much point if it didn’t hurt,” Marco pointed out. “But I should tell you; that wasn’t as hard as it could have been if I’d really been giving you a punishment-force caning.”
“I wondered if you were holding back a bit; but it still definitely hurt,” Robbie assured him. “And thanks,” he added. “That was awesome!”
“Great! Right, let’s go back down and finish our coffee. I might even find a chocolate-biscuit for you as a reward for being a brave boy,” said Marco.
“Bastard!” retorted Robbie.
The two boys talked for some time about the cane and then slid off on to other topics. After about half an hour Marco said he wanted to get the cane returned to his uncle’s house.
“Mum and dad aren’t due back from golf for about an hour, but I still want the cane out of the house and back at Uncle James’ place as soon as possible,” he told Robbie. “You wanna come along with me?”
“Yeh. Come on.”
The pair walked swiftly to Marco’s uncle’s house and Marco used his key to admit them. He led Robbie to the small study, replaced the cane in a cupboard and then the two lads left the house, locking it carefully behind them. They returned to Marco’s house, put the key in its place, and then went up to Marco’s room.
Half an hour later, Marco’s parents returned and were just coming in the door when the phone rang and Marco’s dad answered. He listened for a short while and then called Marco downstairs. Robbie followed. Mr. Aubrey looked grim.
“That was Jack Blake, next door to Uncle James. He knows James is away and he says he saw two young lads going into his house about half an hour ago. He wasn’t sure, but he thought one of them might have been you, Marco. Anyway, he rang up to check that it was you and that everything was okay. Was it you?”
“Yes,” said Marco.
“Well, at least I can ring Jack and thank him for his concern and assure him it wasn’t burglars. I do have another question though, Marco. Can you tell me what it is?”
Marco shuffled his feet uneasily and for several seconds was silent as he tried desperately to think of a plausible excuse as to why he and Robbie had taken the key and entered his uncle’s house. Nothing which he thought had a remote chance of convincing his father came to mind and so, reluctantly, he decided on the truth, explaining Robbie’s unusual wish and his visits to his uncle’s house to fetch and return the cane so that he could fulfil that wish for his friend.
“I see,” said Mr. Aubrey.
He turned to Robbie and asked, “So, how did you like being caned for the first time, young man?”
“It hurt,” admitted Robbie, “but it did give a bit of a buzz. I don’t know why. It just did. Er, Mr Aubrey?”
Marco’s father looked at Robbie interrogatively.
“I know we’ve behaved badly,” said Robbie, “and….and you’re going to punish Marco, aren’t you?”
“That would seem appropriate, don’t you think, Marco?”
“Yes,” replied Marco quietly, “but….…”
“In that case,” interrupted Robbie loudly, “since I’m to blame as well, I’ll take whatever punishment Marco’s getting.”
“Marco will be getting a very hard spanking with the bath-brush,” said Mr Aubrey.
“And, if you’re willing to do it, so will I,” declared Robbie firmly.
“I think this will hurt a lot more than what Marco gave you,” Mr Aubrey informed Robbie. “Your parents might not…..”
“I’m eighteen, sir. I can make my own decisions. I’ll take the spanking, please.”
“You don’t need to…..” began Marco, but he was silenced by a look from his father.
“Go and get the bath-brush and then wait in your room, Marco.”
Silently, Marco went out and left Robbie alone with Mr. Aubrey.
“You’re sure about this, Robbie? Marco is used to getting his behind thrashed with the bath-brush; and his uncle has caned him, along with his cousins, on a number of occasions. You, however, are not used to corporal punishment and will probably find a spanking difficult; not least since you’ve been caned already this morning.”
“I know. But I deserve it and I’m willing to take it.”
“Very well. Go and wait upstairs with Marco.”
Robbie headed for the stairs and then paused and looked back.
“Mr Aubrey,” began Robbie, “you will……you know……punish me the same as Marco, won’t you? I don’t want any special treatment.”
“I don’t think you’ll have anything to complain about in that regard,” he replied grimly.
Robbie swallowed.
“Thank you, sir,” he said softly.
Up in his room, Marco was pacing nervously. Robbie found the sight of him almost unbearably appealing.
“You don’t need to get this,” said Marco again, nodding at the bath-brush which lay on his bed.
“Yeh, I do.”
“I wish I could explain how much this is gonna hurt,” said Marco unhappily. “What I did to your arse with the cane earlier is gonna feel like a fairy-tickle compared with this. Honest.”
Robbie shrugged and, “I’ll do my best,” he said simply.
Both boys turned towards the door as they heard the sound of feet coming up the stair.
“Take a big mouthful of the bedding and don’t let go,” hissed Marco quickly. “And try not to rub your bottom. It’s hellish hard not to, but you’ll just get even harder swats.”
“Got it,” replied Robbie as the door opened and Marco’s dad entered.
He picked up the bath-brush, slapped it against his palm with an intimidating crack and then ordered, “Get ready, Marco.”
Marco kicked off his trainers and slid off his jeans and briefs while Mr Aubrey sat down on the edge of the bed. Robbie’s penis rose at the sight of his friend’s exquisitely-formed bottom. At a nod from his father, Marco placed himself across his dad’s knees, spreading his feet wide and taking a chunk of bedding in each hand. He laid his forehead on the bed and waited. Robbie watched as the spanking commenced. Mr Aubrey didn’t appear to be hitting terribly hard and certainly wasn’t raising the bath-brush high, but there appeared to be something in his wrist-action as the brush connected with Marco’s bare skin which delivered a fierce sting and made the spanked boy squirm and gasp, his gluteal-muscles clenching and relaxing urgently. Within a remarkably short time Marco’s gasps had morphed into yelps and he sank his teeth hard into the bedding so that his squeals were muffled but still audible to Robbie who was simultaneously horrified and thrilled. As the spanking continued relentlessly and Marco’s bottom turned a deeper and deeper red, he writhed desperately, his legs kicking.
When he tried to protect his buttocks with his feet, his father ordered him harshly to get back into position; and when his hand flew round in a vain attempt to ease the blazing heat in his behind during a ferocious series of swats along his crease, he got a sharp crack on the knuckles which forced him to withdraw the offending hand with a yelp of protest. It seemed to Robbie to go on for a long time and when Mr Aubrey ceased to ply the bath-brush, Marco was lying quivering across his father’s knees, his breaths coming in noisy, gasping sobs. Ordered to get up, he obeyed slowly and Robbie was shocked to see tears trickling down his face as he stood up straight and pressed both hands carefully to his flaming rump.
“Over and face the wall,” ordered his dad and Marco obeyed, flashing Robbie a watery smile as he did so.
“Get ready, Robbie!”
Robbie stripped as he’d seen Marco do and then placed himself across Mr Aubrey’s knees. He was told to spread his legs further and he did so uneasily because his sensitive inner-thighs were exposed and he’d heard and seen the increased sound and movement forced from Marco when the fire-dealing brush was working on those areas. As he’d observed Marco do, he took a couple of large handfuls of bedding and also got his teeth ready to bite down hard. The head of the bath-brush slid over his mounds for a few seconds and then the spanking began.
Never had Robbie believed that such pain could be delivered by something as innocuous-looking as a wooden bath-brush. It felt as if the gates of hell had swung wide and poured out a fiery torrent across his defenceless bottom. Pain blazed and seared as he yelped and squealed and snarled into a huge mouthful of duvet. He kicked and writhed and struggled to escape the ferocious onslaught, but Mr Aubrey had a leg firmly hooked round one of Robbie’s and the boy was going nowhere.
Marco’s dad was an expert spanker, reading the boy across his lap easily, perceiving where he was having the greatest effect and ensuring he returned again and again to those areas which Robbie clearly found most tender. When he attacked the sensitive skin of Robbie’s crease, upper-legs and inner-thighs, he couldn’t stop himself from attempting to protect himself with his hand but after several sharp cracks on the knuckles, he desisted. Still the spanking went on, driving Robbie to more desperate writhing and more urgent howls of agony, partly stifled by the bedding.
When it stopped, Robbie couldn’t quite believe that it was over. Pain throbbed fiercely in his bottom and he eased himself slowly into a standing position when told to do so. He felt hot tears trickling down his cheeks and was aware that his chest was heaving as he took deep gulps of air. He felt his way wonderingly across his buttocks with both hands, astounded at the flaming heat in his spanked skin.
“Go and face the wall.”
Robbie joined Marco and stood in silence facing a blank stretch of wall. After a few seconds, he glanced sideways and Marco gave him an encouraging grin. The silence went on and neither boy moved. Fully ten minutes elapsed before they were told to get their clothes back on.
“No more behaviour of that kind, boys. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” replied two thoroughly chastened young lads together.
“Put this back in the bathroom,” said Mr Aubrey to Marco.
Marco took the bath-brush and went out.
“First ever spanking, Robbie?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You took it well in that case.”
“Thanks, sir.”
Marco came back into the room and his father went out.
“Yes, well,” said Robbie. “I guess we won’t be doing that again.”
Marco grinned at him.
“Wishing you’d put that genie back in the bottle when you had the chance, huh?”
“No. I guess he’s been shut in for a hell of a long time, so he’s pretty annoyed; and he’s taking it out on my arse. Your dad is a bloody fantastic spanker!”
“Fantastic?” queried Marco doubtfully.
“He knows what he’s doing and he knows how to make it hurt like hell; and that’s just for starters.”
“You got your wish to get the cane; and you got a hell of a bath-brush spanking into the bargain; so, you happy now, Robbie?”
Robbie caressed his still-throbbing buttocks slowly.
“I’m hard as a lump of granite,” he observed.
“So I see,” agreed Marco. “You want me to deal with that for you?”
“Would you? That’d be awesome,” declared Robbie eagerly.
“Drop them, Robbie,” ordered Marco with a grin; and Robbie slid down jeans and briefs, baring his well-spanked bottom.
“You’re going over my knee again, mate,” declared Marco.
“What? No!”
“On your back this time.”
“Oh; right.”
Robbie duly positioned himself and Marco began working expertly with both hands on his towering erection, bringing Robbie to the brink and then denying him release several times before allowing the floodgates to burst open and a series of powerful spurts to send Robbie’s spunk soaring in a smooth arc over his shoulder to spatter on the floor.
“Shit! You got a powerful pair of balls there, Robbie-boy!”
“And you know what you’re doing,” added Robbie, eyes shining.
“So, you gonna show me what you can do?” asked Marco shyly.
For answer, Robbie spun round and leapt to his feet before diving on Marco and yanking down his jeans and briefs to release a bounding boner on which he worked expertly until Marco sounded the bass strings of delight as his balls shot forth their load.
“Oh, yeh!” declared Marco appreciatively; and Robbie blushed coyly.
“It was almost worth that ball-busting session with the bath-brush to get an orgasm like that,” said Robbie. “I never felt one like it before.”
“Me neither. But your hands had a lot to do with it too, Robbie.”
“Well, yeh; so did yours with me; but still………and the cane was brilliant.”
“You really liked the cane, didn’t you?” said Marco.
“Yeh. I mean, it stung like the blazes, but it got to me somehow. I’m kind of disappointed you can’t borrow your uncle’s cane again so you could give me some more sessions.”
“I’m not risking another bath-brush spanking like that one,” asserted Marco determinedly.
“Mmmmm,” Robbie said, “but it’s a pity about the cane.”
*************************
It was a few weeks later that Marco and Robbie were on their way to Marco’s Uncle James’ house one Saturday morning to deliver a bottle of whisky which he’d won in a raffle.
“You ever tasted whisky?” enquired Marco; and Robbie shook his head.
“Might be fun to try sometime. I mean, we’re old enough.”
“Yeh; but not from this bottle. The genie that would set free would be in a flaming hot temper and wielding a fire-dealing cane,” warned Marco.
The boys duly delivered the bottle and then were taken into the kitchen because Marco’s uncle said he wanted to talk to them. It transpired that he’d heard from Marco’s dad about the boys’ illicit borrowing of his cane while he’d been away.
“Not acceptable behaviour, boys,” said uncle James. “Since you took my cane, it would seem appropriate that you should be caned.”
“But dad punished us!” protested Marco. “He took six layers of skin off our arses with the bath-brush!”
“You too?” asked uncle James, looking at Robbie.
“Er, yeh. I kinda felt I was as much to blame as Marco, so I took the spanking as well. He’s right. It was horrendous. Felt like I was getting my behind blasted with a flame-thrower.”
“All the same, it seems to me that since your fault involved my cane, you need to feel some punishment with my cane as well. Six of my very best on the bare should make an impression on you, Marco. I’ve no right to discipline you, Robbie.”
“But if Marco’s getting it, so am I,” declared Robbie swiftly. “Like the spanking, that’s only fair.”
“Go through to the study and wait,” ordered uncle James.
“This is so bloody unfair!” raged Marco when they entered the study. “We’ve taken our punishment. We don’t need a caning as well.”
“Sounds like your uncle doesn’t agree,” said Robbie. “He’s determined to thrash us again.”
“You don’t need to……..” began Marco; but Robbie interrupted him.
“Yeh, I do! We’re in this together.”
Marco eyed his mate doubtfully and remarked, “You’re really not gonna put that ferocious genie back in the bottle, are you?” he asked.
“No! I let it out when I told you and the guys I wanted to feel the cane; and I’m not a coward. I’ll take the consequences,” Robbie stated firmly.
“Hey! I never said you were a coward! I just thought you didn’t need to take a beating from my uncle James.”
“And leave you to get the shit beaten outta you while I go free? Yeh, that’ll be right,” said Robbie.
Marco glanced swiftly at the door and then gave Robbie a quick kiss.
“You’re brilliant,” he said softly as the colour rose on Robbie’s cheeks.
James entered and took his cane from a cupboard, arching it slowly to let both boys see what he was going to give them.
“Jeans and briefs off, Marco, and bend over the chair,” he ordered; and Marco obeyed silently.
Robbie watched as the cane was wielded brutally hard across Marco’s bare bottom, a series of parallel welts rising steadily from the skin as James incised six powerful, fleshy cuts from the centre of the youth’s buttocks down to his sensitive crease. Marco clenched and squirmed but remained silent until the fifth stroke forced a small yelp from him; and the sixth a more desperate squeal as he writhed from the hips. His hands remained clamped to the sides of the chair.
“Stand up and get your clothes back on. Robbie, jeans and briefs off and bend over.”
Robbie complied and duly positioned himself. He felt the cane probing his bottom for a few seconds before it lashed viciously hard across his tense mounds and made him buck in shock at the intensity of the sting. He understood in that moment that when Marco had given him his first taste of the cane, he’d been holding a lot back. This was a different world. This wasn’t an introduction to a new experience. This was young adult-male corporal punishment and it was meant to hurt like hell.
Steadying himself, Robbie breathed deeply as the cane slid across his skin again and when the second stroke came he coped with it better, scrunching his glutes fiercely and riding the searing burn. All the same, the third challenged him as it blazed a fiery path still lower on his behind and drove an audible gasp from him. He told himself furiously to grow up and stop being a baby; and although the next lash of the punitive rod delivered an even more intense sting, he gritted his teeth, squirmed, and made no sound.
Number five broke his will. The cane screamed in, just where buttocks merge into upper legs and inflicted a furrow of searing fire which forced a squeal of agony from Robbie and made his right hand leap back to scrub desperately at his tortured flesh.
“Get your hand back on the chair!” ordered James harshly. “Do you know enough about being caned to know that you don’t rub your bottom in the middle of a punishment?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Robbie in a slightly unsteady voice.
“And do you know what happens to a boy who breaks that rule?”
“He gets the stroke again,” said Robbie, remembering what Marco had done in his initiation with the cane.
James said no more but stroked the rod along Robbie’s flesh where a welt had been raised by that fifth cut. Robbie quivered as he realised that James intended to try to inflict the repeat-stroke on the same tenderised skin. He gripped the edges of the chair as hard as he could and waited. The pain of the ferocious stroke came like a lightning-blast, ripping a flaming path through Robbie’s skin. He didn’t quite manage to land the stroke on top of the welt made by the previous one, but it was so close that the two weals merged into one. Robbie squealed again and writhed with urgent desperation as he fought his agony and regained control of his trembling body. The final stroke was lower still, full on the crease, and excruciating in the level of pain it delivered. Yet again Robbie squealed and he could feel scalding tears trickling from his tightly-closed eyelids; but he’d learned to keep his hands away from his bottom.
“Stand up and get dressed.”
Robbie obeyed silently, wincing at the touch of his briefs on his fresh cane-welts.
“Go through to the kitchen and put the kettle on and make some coffee, Marco,” ordered his uncle; and when Marco had left the study, James turned to the newly-beaten Robbie who was standing carefully caressing his bottom.
“I hear that the reason Marco purloined my cane was because you wanted to find out what a caning felt like,” he said.
“Yeh. I never got caned at school and I sort of wanted to know. Marco obliged, you might say.”
“But what I’ve just given you hurt a lot more than what Marco gave you, eh Robbie?”
“Oh, yeh. Marco was gentle compared to that. That was a real punishment caning,” agreed Robbie.
“Which is what you really wanted when you asked to find out what it felt like to be caned, eh Robbie?”
Robbie nodded.
“Now I really understand,” he said, still rubbing at his throbbing bottom, but also very much aware that there were things happening in the front of his jeans as well.
James observed this and then said, “Never been caned until recently, Robbie. So there must be many occasions when you were grounded or did lines or detentions instead of bending over for a thrashing; yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unfinished business, perhaps?” suggested James, flexing his lithe cane. “I can help you to finish it. It will take a while, but we’ll make a start on Tuesday evening. I want you here at seven o’clock, prompt.”
“T…Tuesday, sir? That’s just three days away, sir,” stammered Robbie.
“I can count, boy!”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I just meant that……I mean you’ve just given me seven strokes and I’m sore and……..”
“You’re too namby-pamby to take another six hard ones in a few days. Is that what you’re saying, boy?”
“No, sir. I……I’ll be here, sir.”
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“You’re outta your fucking tree!” yelped Marco when Robbie told him as they walked back to Marco’s house. “He’s just caned the living shit out of your bare arse and you’ve agreed to go back and let him do it again on Tuesday? What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“I dunno. I don’t think there’s anything the matter with me. I just feel I want it; I need it. Could I come to your place after though, so that you can massage some cream on my bum and then….er…..you know….reward me for being a brave boy?” asked Robbie, smiling shyly.
“As long as you reward me for my efforts,” agreed Marco with a grin.
“You’re on!”
Back in Marco’s bedroom the two saw to each other’s cane-welts and relieved each other’s tensions.
“I really like you,” said Marco softly, kissing Robbie gently as they lay side-by-side on their fronts on his bed.
“Me too,” agreed Robbie, returning the kiss with interest. “I’ll look forward to this while I’m getting caned on Tuesday evening.”
“You’re really gonna go?”
“Sure! Maybe I’ll learn to take six stingers as well as you can,” said Robbie.
“I’ve a feeling you’re gonna learn to take a lot more than that and a hell of a lot better than I ever could,” said Marco. “That genie really is outta the bottle and your gorgeous arse is gonna pay the price. Tuesday is just gonna be the start, isn’t it?”
“Yeh. I’ve thought of a lot of things I could have been caned for over the years and so I guess it’s gonna take a long time to deal with them all.”
The pair began to get tangled up with each other again and after a lengthy session of intimacy found themselves massaging their boy-cream into each other’s skin.
“Wow!” gasped Marco, “you’re one white-hot guy, Robbie. I think a passion-genie has just been let out of its bottle; and we’re not gonna be trying to put it back!”
“Nah; these genies are just too powerful for boys like us to control,” agreed Robbie. “We just gotta let them go wild with us and……..”
“…..and enjoy the ride,” ended Marco enthusiastically. “Let’s go down to the bric-a-brac shop.”
“Huh?”
Marco leapt up and began to dress and Robbie, mystified, followed suit. At the shop, Marco prowled around for several minutes at a large table with a miscellaneous assortment of bottles and other glassware; and eventually came up with two ancient-looking bottles which he duly paid for. Sitting on a wall outside in the sun, Marco explained.
“This dark-red one is for the genie that drives you to get caned,” he said. “And this scarlet one is for the genie that drives us into a passion so that we need to fuck like bunnies in the spring. We’ll put them in my room as a sign that the genies are on the loose.”
“And we won’t be putting them back in their bottles?” grinned Robbie.
“We can’t,” said Marco. “I made sure that I bought bottles without a stopper!”
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D I S C L A I M E R
All characters and businesses appearing in this story and pictures are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Story ©MMXXIV by Joelstrap, used here by very kind permission.
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Joelstrap’s excellent earlier stories for The Canery are available here. Further great stories by Joelstrap may be found at this external link.