Peter lived alone. He was in his early twenties, and found relationships difficult. Consequently he spent a lonely life, masturbating to porn on the internet. He was particularly drawn to girls his own age who were into spanking. Where this interest came from, he wasn’t sure.
His apartment was quite small, but immaculately kept. It was within walking distance of work, which was just as well, as he had no car. This made trips back from the supermarket a bit difficult as well, for he had to avoid buying too much heavy shopping.
He enjoyed the trips to the supermarket. He always tried to go to the checkouts with sexy, spankable girls. He would often masturbate about his favourite checkout girls when he got home. How shocked those girls would be if they could read his mind or watch him playing with his penis and with a finger inserted in his anus! His favourite checkout girl was Amanda who had the most beautiful peach of a bottom. How he would have loved to stick his finger in her anus! It was just a shame that he couldn’t seem to date any of the girls.
Peter always tried to pick quiet days for his shopping so that he could linger and chat to the checkout girls. As luck would have it, he found he had to go shopping one Friday evening – just when the supermarket was at its busiest. The queues at the checkouts were really long so he joined the shortest one he could find. He had miscalculated as he soon noticed that the checkout was manned by an old grey haired chap instead of one of his favourite girls. He was annoyed with himself, and then embarrassed when he realised he’d forgotten to bring his reusable shopping bags with him.
“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten to bring any bags with me,” Peter said when he got to the till.
“That’s a black mark for you then!” said the checkout guy with just the hint of a wicked grin.
Peter was taken aback by this remark. He’d expected a “No problem,” or a “That’s OK,” not a “That’s a black mark for you then!”
Too many spanking websites were on Peter’s mind as he immediately replied, “Are you going to spank me then?” Peter blushed and felt incredibly foolish as soon as the words left his mouth. The old chap raised an eyebrow and then winked at Peter. There was an awkward silence as Peter packed the shopping away in the free bags. “Bye then,” Peter said as he left the checkout.
“Be good,” was the reply he got from the cheeky old fellow.
Peter went home slowly as the bags of shopping were heavy. He was thinking about the old guy. He was kind of handsome. Distinguished grey hair and piercing blue eyes. He thought about him some more. He wondered whether perhaps he was into spanking too?
When he got home he put the shopping away and then flaked out on the sofa. Later, he got up to draw the curtains shut, dropped his trousers and started to pump his penis. Instead of the checkout girls though, it was the old fellow who was in his thoughts. Would he really like to spank Peter? One thing was for sure – Peter would like to spanked by the old guy. Peter pumped furiously and then came heavily.
Peter resolved to look for the guy next time he went shopping. Sure enough, there was his big, unmistakable frame perched on a checkout seat, with sexy girls at the checkout tills either side. The girls were of no interest to Peter any more.
Peter got to the checkout. The old guy smiled, and Peter noticed from his name badge that he was George. “I’ve remembered my bags this time…Sir!” Peter said, excitedly.
“I should hope so too, but the black mark still stands,” George replied. “Don’t worry I’ve got an extra pair of underpants on,” said Peter. Clearly both were enjoying their mutual joke.
And so it went on for several weeks. Both would make vaguely spanky comments, and Peter often teased George by rubbing his bottom.
George wasn’t there every time. When he was absent Peter felt disappointed. He enjoyed chatting to the checkout girls, but it just wasn’t the same.
One day, Peter went shopping and was struggling home with the heavy bags, when George pulled up in an old Rover.
“Want a lift?” George asked.
“Yes, please…Sir!” said Peter. He put the heavy bags in the boot and they drove off.
After a little small talk, George suddenly said “Let’s cut the crap, shall we? Do you want me to spank your bottom?”
Peter’s face went bright red. His cock stiffened, “Err…err…yes, I think I do,” he said rather sheepishly.
“Don’t you mean I think I do, SIR?” said George forcefully, “and don’t forget to say please!” he added. “That’s two more black marks for you.” He chuckled, “Your place or mine?”
“Well, I have got frozen food in the bags. It had better be mine,” said Peter.
They parked up and went in. George took off his fleecy supermarket jacket while Peter unpacked the frozen food. George walked into the kitchen and pinched Peter’s bottom. Hard. He chuckled again and rolled up his shirt sleeves, “I’ll be in the living room. Don’t keep me waiting boy,” he said.
Peter walked in nervously.
“Over my lap!” commanded George. He started spanking straight away.
“Trousers down!” The smacking resumed…
Peter’s erection could clearly be seen. He was turned on by the whole thing!
“Please, no more!”
“Please stop, Sir!”
By now, Peter was wriggling and squirming to avoid the punishing blows from George’s hand. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he was becoming much more vocal with his protests. His cock was rock hard, but George chose to ignore it.
“Fetch me your hairbrush,” George commanded.
“I don’t have one, Sir,” said Peter.
“Well then, I have one in my bag in the car. Stand in the corner while I go and get it. Hands on head. No rubbing. And don’t you dare try to pull those pants back up!”
George went out to the car. He opened the boot and pulled out a sports bag, which he used for keeping his spanking implements in. He unzipped it and took out a dark coloured hairbrush. Then he said, “No!” and threw the brush back in. He decided to bring the bag in with him.
Peter was still stood in the corner, hands on head, as instructed. The lad’s bottom was still a bright pink from the spanking it had received. George unzipped the bag and pulled out the hairbrush, “Back over my lap, boy!”
Peter draped himself over George again, “That’s a very sexy arse you have, son. It can take a lot of punishment. It’s nice and pink now. But this brush will make it as red as the rising sun! You have accrued fifteen black marks for your lewd behaviour in my supermarket. So that’s fifteen with the brush, boy. Now, I want you to count each one out loud please.”
There were a lot more tears and cries from Peter as the hairbrush did its work. George was enjoying punishing Peter, but was the boy liking it too? “Oh yes, Sir!” He thrust his pert cheeks out for each blow…Thirteen, “OWWWW!” Fourteen, “AAARGH,” Fifteen, “AAARGH!”
After Peter had recovered a little, he showed George around his apartment. In the bedroom, George noticed a hairbrush lying neatly on the dressing table. “So, you lied to me! I CANNOT STAND LIARS!” George shouted. “Six of the very best with my cane, I think. Stay here while I fetch it!”
George hadn’t planned to use his cane on this, his first visit to Peter’s. Caning was his favourite pastime. He adored canes. He unzipped his sports bag and pulled out the cane. Oh yes, his favourite! He whipped it through the air a few times. Oh, how he loved that sound! The cane was a golden-yellow colour with a beautiful crook handle. This will teach that naughty liar a hard lesson, thought George.
He walked in to the bedroom whipping the cane through the air. Peter flinched at the sound. “I’ve never had the cane before, Sir. Please don’t hit me too hard!”
“The cane does nearly all the work. I hardly have to put any effort into it.” This wasn’t strictly true, although George was remembering that this particular cane seemed to have a life and momentum all of its own. “I hadn’t planned on using the cane today. I don’t like liars and this will teach you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry!”
He swished the cane through the air a couple of times. He felt a massive erection coming on. His black supermarket trousers strained as his cock grew harder.
“I want all your clothes off, NOW! That’s it. Bend right over the bed. Stick your bottom out. More! I want to see it begging for my cane! You are getting six. If you get up, I will give you extra strokes, and they will be extra hard ones. I want you to count each stroke out loud and I expect you to thank me after I have finished your caning. Is that clear and are you ready?”
Swish – Crack!
The first stroke landed in the middle of Peter’s manly arse. Oh, the pain! It was scorching like a flamethrower. Somehow Peter managed to stay bent over. After another second or two he suddenly remembered to count, “One, Sir!”
Swish – CRACK!
The second stroke was louder and absolute agony as it landed on the pert target. Peter cried out in pain, “Two, Sir!”
George was getting into his stride now. Oh, that cane gave him such joy! “Stick it out more for me boy,” he demanded.
Peter obliged. Although this was hurting he was enjoying it in a strange, challenging way. He was feeling emboldened, cheeky almost, as he said, “I’m ready, Sir.” His cock was stiffening nicely.
Swish – CRACK
Swish – CRACK!
Two strokes in rapid succession, Peter only just managing to count the third before the fourth fell.
Swish – CRACK!
“AAAAARGH! Five, Sir!” An extra hard stroke had caught Peter off guard.
“Mmmmm that was a good one,” said George, licking his lips almost, and chuckling to himself. “This will be your last stroke, but only if you stay down for it. It’s going to be a severe one and I want that bottom sticking out more. That’s it! Ask me for it, boy.”
“Sir, I’m ready Sir, please beat me.”
Swish – CRAAACK!
“OWWWWWWWWW! Six, Sir! Thank you for caning me, Sir.”
Well he certainly was a polite boy! But George was a little disappointed that Peter had been so well-behaved under the cane. There had been no getting up, no swearing, and no extra strokes. This boy was tougher than he’d expected! George vowed that next time he would break and humiliate the lad. Something to look forward to.
Warning: Contains adult material. Forbidden to those under the age of 18.
This blog is intended for adults only. All listed sites, pictures displayed or referred to in this blog feature consenting adult models and players over the age of 18. All stories and artwork featured are fiction only and refer to adults in role play. This blog is not suitable for persons under the age of 18.
The owner of this blog does NOT condone, promote OR encourage the corporal punishment of minors or non-consenting adults.
Many people use the rattan cane in their adult relationships. Sometimes this is for domestic discipline. Others use it to spice up their sex lives. Some just like recreating experiences from long ago. You will find fictional stories here which explore these themes. All the characters are aged 18 or over.
All characters appearing in this blog are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey" - Kenji Miyazawa, author and poet (1896-1933)
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"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what" - Harper Lee, author (1926-2016)
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This site is dedicated to the memory of Jonathan (aka jaybee300), friend, muse, gentleman and master, 1954-2014, R.I.P.
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