Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne.
“You know what I’m going to do with this, don’t you?” she said as she stroked the black strap-on penis.
“Paul always takes it like a man. I hope you can do the same for me boy. I bet your father didn’t have one of these did he?”
“Er, no, just the cane,” I replied somewhat stupidly. The lube squelched out of the tube with a rude noise.
Just then her husband Paul slammed the front door and crashed in to the room we were in.
“Paul where the hell have you been? You are late. You are disobedient and you will pay! I’ve had to beat our guest to relieve the boredom. Mind you I think our guest might have enjoyed it. Isn’t that right boy?”
“My name is Peter,” I replied as I was getting rather tired of being called a boy. “But yes, maybe I did enjoy it in a funny kind of way. Are you going to cane Paul now, that’s what I came to see?” I was being cheeky and assertive, anything to divert her from the thought of ploughing me with that hideous strap-on thing. My arse was throbbing and my eyes were already moist. The last thing I wanted was that plastic cock making life even more uncomfortable.
“Yes indeed. What an excellent idea! The senior cane, I think. Twenty strokes. Bare. Drop them, Paul!”
She strode off and came back with a thicker looking cane. It was darker-coloured than the one she had used on me and it had the most beautiful crook handle.
“This will teach you not to be late!”
The cane thrashed down on his cheeks. They were already reddened by the misty morning’s cropping. Nasty welts were appearing.
“Fifteen.”
“AAArgh!”
“Sixteen, Seventeen.”
“AAAAARGH!”
“Eighteen.”
“OWWWWW!”
“Nineteen.”
“AAARGHHH!”
“Twenty.”
“OWWW!”
The last couple were cross strokes, I think. Boy, did his arse look sore.
“Now then boys,” she said. “I want you to be friends. Peter and Paul. How cute. Play your cards right Peter, and you could replace Paul in my affections.”
If this was a taste of her affections, I wasn’t so sure I wanted it.
“Now to show me you are good friends, Paul why don’t you lick Peter’s sore bottom and then Peter you can do the same for Paul. The one who does it best may get to lick mine – not that mine is sore, of course.” How humiliating this evening was turning out to be.
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Content ©2011, Rod Cayenne
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