Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne.
Originally titled “Aunt’s Medicine – Fourth Dose”
It was late on Friday night. Aunt Judy was in bed masturbating. She was thinking about her niece Jane and her attractive body. She was thinking about the 23 strokes of the cane she had applied to the beautiful bottom earlier that day. Her threat to double the dose turned her on more and more and as she thought about it she climaxed noisily.
In the bedroom next door, Jane was lying on her side. One hand was feeling the ridges on her caned bottom, the other was gently massaging her clit. How she loved Aunt Judy and how she loved that cane. It was just what she needed, and the regular Friday sessions were going to be painful pleasure all the way. She too was thinking about Aunt Judy’s threat to double the dose. 46 strokes didn’t bear thinking about!
The following morning the two were in the kitchen having breakfast. Both were still in their bedclothes. Judy was dunking toast in her egg as usual while Jane was pouring cereal into a bowl.
“I heard you enjoying yourself last night!” Jane blurted out to her aunt.
“You what? You what? Don’t be so damned cheeky! Anyway, you are always playing with yourself, you minx! I’m still not convinced those canings aren’t turning you on. Remember what I said about double doses”.
“Yes I remember Aunty. But we are both enjoying the sessions aren’t we? Let’s be honest!”
“So, I was right! Double for you in future, I think. Anyway, now we’re on the subject, I want to see that bum of yours. I want to see how the marks are.”
“What, here in the kitchen?”
“Yes, why not? No-one can see in the window. Bend over the table and lift up that nightie. NOW!”
Jane obliged. Her bottom bore the tell-tale tramlines of a well-applied caning. There was bruising, too. Aunt Judy couldn’t resist running her fingers over the cheeks.
“Mmmmmm that’s nice!” said Jane.
“Really!” said Aunt Judy, although whether the tone was seriously shocked or not was debatable. She started to massage the cheeks. And then she pinched each one!
“Owww! What was that for?”
“That was for my pleasure and your pain, Missy! Now listen to me. I have ordered a stiffer cane. A senior one. That should teach you a lesson or two! And also a leather spanking paddle. You will get to feel them as soon as they arrive, even if that’s before your weekly Friday session.”
“It’s not fair!”
“Of course it’s not fair! That’s half the fun. Now pull your nightie down unless you want me to tan your hide now!”
Friday soon came around and both were looking forward to the caning. The new implements had not arrived, so Jane was instructed to fetch the old cane from the hook on the bedroom door.
“How many do you want?” Aunt Judy asked. This was of course a trick question. She would double whatever number Jane came up with.
“Er, well I’ve been pretty good this week. So maybe six would be sufficient as a reminder.”
“No I don’t think so. A double dose is due, but a double six is nothing. It will be more. I will decide as you are being so coy. Bend over!”
Jane bent submissively, thrusting her naked cheeks up ready for her aunt’s discipline.
“I’m sorry Jane. Thinking about it, these will be extra hard ones for you.”
“Why is that?”
“Why not?” her aunt laughed. “And it will be twelve doubled up to 24! The most you’ve ever had. So far, of course. Count them out for me.”
The first one was not too bad. Jane was surprised and a little disorientated.
“You forgot to count. That stroke doesn’t count. Here it comes again!”
“You forgot to count again. So we are back at two.”
“Four – Owwww.”
Aunt Judy was playing a game. The strokes weren’t any harder than usual. In fact they were quite mild. But that was about to change…
“Stick that bottom out for me, Sweetie.”
“AARGH – Twelve.”
“You’re doing well, sweetie!” Aunt Judy said. “We’ll take a break there. Or rather I will. You stay where you are and keep that arse ready for my cane.”
Jane heard the kettle being filled and put on. What a nerve! Aunt Judy was making tea.
“Do you want a cup, sweetie?”
“Errr, no thanks. Can we get on with it?”
“Don’t be so cheeky. You’ll get the rest of your beating when I am good and ready.”
Judy pottered around the kitchen for a couple more minutes while Jane remained bent over with her bottom offered up for the next twelve strokes. Eventually her aunt emerged, with a cup in her left hand and the whippy cane in her right hand.
“Mmmm, nice arse!” Aunt Judy cackled. She put down the cup and the cane and started massaging Jane’s striped cheeks. Jane found the attention welcome, and quickly became moist down below. Aunt Judy couldn’t help but notice, especially as Jane began to moan gently with pleasure. “Yes, you and I could have a lot of fun together, couldn’t we?” Judy said. “But first things first. That arse needs a good, hard whipping!”
“Oooh, thirteen Auntie.”
“Oh, I’m really enjoying this, Jane. Your bottom was made for the cane. It’s just perfect.”
“Why, thank you. I think!”
“Stick it out for me girl!”
“Just another six, sweetie. Ready?”
“Oooh yes, Auntie. Make them hard please.”
Judy did not need any encouragement. She sighed as she flexed the cane.
Jane was breathing heavily.
“AAARGH. Twenty two!”
“No – Owwwwwwwww! Twenty three.”
“Twenty four! Oh thank you, Auntie. Thank you!”
Aunt Judy didn’t need thanking. She threw down the cane and started to massage the beaten cheeks again. How contented aunt and niece were.
Later that day, Jane was checking her stripes in the mirror of the toilet at work. Kitty came in, as Jane had forgotten to lock the door.
“My, my Jane. Looks like you have had a good beating!”
Picture © jessandr and used by very kind permission
Story © Rod Cayenne, 2011
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Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne
It must have been the largest car boot sale in the county. It was quite easy to spend over an hour walking around surveying tables and tables of useless tat. On one of the last tables, I found something I’d been looking for ages for. It was a school cane. Possibly a vintage one, a bit smoother than I’d been expecting, with a beautiful crook handle.
“How much?” I asked the distinguished gentleman behind the table.
“Five pounds for that, it’s really a family heirloom.”
I wasn’t going to haggle on the price. I wanted it desperately. I handed a crisp fiver to him, saying, “I’ll take it please. Can you tell me anything about the history of this item?”
“Why yes, of course.”
Just then a load of customers showed up so he scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper and said, “Call me!” and winked at me. I felt I had found someone with a similar kink to me!
That evening I rang him. We chatted briefly and suddenly he said, “Come over and see me and we can try that cane out!” He had obviously rumbled me as a spanko.
We arranged to meet the following afternoon. His house was big and imposing. He lived alone and was obviously prosperous. In fact, it was odd that he felt the need to do a car boot sale at all. I tackled him about this.
“Aha!” he said, “You are one of my cleverer customers. I like the car boot scene, and as you gathered I have an interest in caning. Therefore I buy these canes at about eight quid each and sell them for a fiver at the sale.”
“But that means you make a loss!”
“Only in one sense. Yes I lose three quid, but in return I get to meet a lot of adults who share my interest. Nothing like a fresh arse to cane, although I like to receive too! And you’d be surprised how many people want to haggle about the price!”
Well this was interesting! He came and sat down next to me and put his arm around me. “You fancy some action then?”
“Yes please!” I replied in my best tarty way.
“OK then, up to the guest room! First right at the top of the stairs.”
Pretty soon, he had my jeans and pants down for 18 merciless strokes. These were given by three different canes. He obviously hadn’t sold his complete stock!
I then spanked and caned his naked arse. It was a real peach, just made for caning.
We became good friends, although it suited us to stick to one particular role each session. More often than not, I was the sub due to his commanding manner. I even became a regular helper at his car boot stall. We perfected the cane sales technique between us and lured a succession of males and a few females back to his place for disciplinary fun and games.
One of the dominant games he played with me was that on each sale of a cane, he made me pay the £3 loss. Now, that really hurt! Ouch!
Story © 2011 by Rod Cayenne
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Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne
“Well Ben, the day of reckoning has come! You will take your final 30 strokes like a man today. But you have to promise not to behave like a boy any more. Otherwise the three of us will be down on you like a ton of bricks,” the Superintendent smiled sadistically.
“Or a ton of canes,” his stepfather Charles added. They chuckled.
PC Tim Johnston joined in, “Today Sara will give you ten strokes, Charles will give you ten strokes, and I will give you ten strokes. These may be the last strokes of the cane you will ever experience. But it’s up to you.”
“Take all your clothes off!” demanded the Super, “except for your underpants and your right sock.” Things were getting weird.
“Bend over the stool.” She pulled his underpants part way down and groped his arse cheeks. “Ready for your worst ever caning, Ben?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” the humbled 23-year-old replied.
She picked up the junior cane and waved it under his nose. “I want complete silence and complete obedience from you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, perfectly clear, Superintendent,” Ben replied, although he felt sure he wouldn’t be able to remain silent. Secretly he relished the challenge and was beginning to enjoy the humiliation from this dominant lady.
He was expecting the first stroke but instead she waved something else under his nose. It was a pair of scissors! Surely she wasn’t going to trim his pubic hair? But no, instead she snipped at his underwear, until it fell to the ground.
“I will keep these underpants as a souvenir. Of a very naughty boy.” She sniffed them and then stuffed them in her pocket.
Ben was finding it hard to keep quiet under the stinging caress of the cane.
“AAAARRGH!” Ben cried.
“Ben, I am very disappointed. I told you to be quiet. These are meant to be your last strokes of the cane, but you can’t even follow a simple instruction. No! Don’t speak, don’t apologise, just stick that arse out for me!”
He duly stuck his arse out submissively for the last strokes.
It was over. Or rather, her part of the caning was. She smiled and laughed, “That was fun. Charles is taking over now. He is less experienced with the cane. His aim may not be so good. Consequently, he will be using the senior cane today. You can make as much noise as you want for these.”
Ben was feeling humiliated but also a touch defiant. He decided he would try to be silent for these ones too.
That one was agony as it wrapped around his thigh.
“AAAARRGH!” his resolve was broken as another poorly aimed stroke hit his thigh.
“Very good, son,” Charles said to his stepson. “I enjoyed that, which may not be such good news for you!” The three disciplinarians laughed at this.
Now PC Johnson picked up the junior cane.
“Let’s review things, shall we Ben?” he said.
“You are being beaten for your total disregard of the law.”
“You are being beaten as an alternative to a custodial sentence.”
“You are being beaten for our entertainment and pleasure. Isn’t that right, Sara?”
“Oh yes! Do it harder my love!” she replied.
Ben was in tears now.
“The Superintendent will review your punishment to decide whether it is sufficient or whether more is required.”
“Your friends aren’t getting the luxury of this alternative.”
“Perhaps prison awaits them.”
Today’s 30 strokes had been delivered. It was over – or was it? What Ben didn’t know was that his friends would get off comparatively lightly.
“I am satisfied with the punishment, Ben,” said the Superintendent. “All charges are dropped.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Ben.
“Don’t interrupt me or I may just change my mind,” she continued. “I suggest nonetheless, that we reconvene in a month or so to review your general behaviour. In the meantime Charles, you have the canes should they be required. And don’t forget Tim here is just up the road if you need any assistance.” She winked wickedly.
©2011 by Rod Cayenne
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Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne.
PC Tim Johnson and Superintendent Sara Llewelyn strode purposely up the drive. Charles had noticed them coming, so he quickly got up and let them in.
“You’ve got the wrong day! Ben’s not here.”
“And where exactly is he? And when will he be back?” Superintendent Llewelyn demanded.
“Oh I’ve arranged to pick him up much later, at 11. He’s at a friend’s.”
“Not one of those speeders, I hope?” Tim asked.
“No, I’ve told him to drop them. Anyway, come in and sit down.”
“The truth is it’s you we’ve come to see Charles,” Tim said.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about Ben’s behaviour,” the Superintendent sighed, “I think it may be due to his stepfather’s neglect of his duty of care! Be a love and go and fetch the canes.”
Now it was the turn of Charles to sigh. She was right of course. But he couldn’t help feeling he had been set up by his good mate Tim. Maybe he’d told her about their little session a while back and how much enjoyment Charles had found in having his arse thrashed?
“No, it’s not OK!” said Superintendent Llewelyn. “Now hurry along and bring me those canes.”
Charles received 12 severe strokes of the whippy junior cane from Tim. He was surprised he was allowed to keep his trousers on for this.
“My turn now. It’s the senior cane for you now! I shall take your trousers and pants down. Let’s play a little game, shall we? How about we demand complete silence from you for the next 12? Unless you want extras?” she laughed sadistically.
She pulled his trousers and pants down, and groped his cock and arse. He moaned a little.
“Charles, I thought I told you I wanted complete silence! Six extra!” With that she thrust her unlubricated finger up his arsehole. Just as she and he had done to Ben. Although not entirely unpleasant, it hurt and was all that Charles could do to remain silent as she probed him thoroughly.
Under the cane, Charles was not silent. She had a very good technique and he was soon gasping and cursing. The cane left bright red tramlines all over. The final few strokes were given at the tops of his thighs and he made a lot of noise, so he felt sure he would be awarded another set of extras.
Fortunately for him, Superintendent Llewelyn had other ideas, “Wow! That was quite a turn-on, thank you, Charles. 30 strokes, just like Ben,” she said. “How about the three of us go to bed now?”
Story and picture © 2011 by Rod Cayenne.
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