♥ Site recommended story ♥
Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2013. All the characters are aged 18 or over.
“Kevin! Downstairs immediately!”
Carl Jacobson was a strict father, and he knew his 18-year-old son would jump as soon as he was summoned. The two lived alone, following the untimely divorce caused by the unfaithfulness of both parents. The modern terraced home backed on to a car park, maintained by the local district council. The car park was shielded from the road by brick walling interspersed by sturdy wooden fencing panels.
“In the living room, now! I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Come on. Get your sorry arse in gear!”
Kevin hurried down the stairs, passing his father. Glares were exchanged, and father landed a resounding slap on his son’s bottom as he passed. Kevin reasoned that his dad must have had a bad day at work.
“Kevin, I thought I’d told you not to take a short cut through the car park?”
“Yes, you did, Dad. But it’s hard to resist when the fencing has been vandalised. If I cut through rather than walking round the block, it saves a good couple of minutes. That’s the difference between catching the bus and missing it.”
“Don’t worry about that, son. I’ll be waking you up earlier in future! I told you not to cut through there as it only encourages the vandals who damage the fence every time the council repairs it.”
“Dad, it’s the will of the people. The council should take the fence down and let people cut through.”
“Rubbish! That wall and the fencing give us tenants a bit of privacy and shields us from the noise of the main road. Little kids are prevented from rushing into the busy road.”
“Yes, Dad. Whatever.”
“Don’t adopt that attitude with me, Kevin. I went to see my old teacher, Mr Grimworthy yesterday. You know, the old chap who lives on the other side of the road?”
“Oh him! The shrivelled oldie!”
“Respect, Kevin! Show some respect! Anyway, I was chatting to him the other day. He told me he’d seen you and Wayne vandalising the fencing, pulling down the uprights.”
“Yes! Oh indeed! I’m not happy, Kevin, I’m not happy at all. What are you going to do to make amends?”
“Shit Dad, I don’t know! I’m sorry!”
“I don’t like that shit word, Kevin! Although you are very much in it! You’re making me very annoyed. Very annoyed indeed! Very, very annoyed. Mr Grimworthy felt sorry for me, which must be a first! He never felt sorry for me when he was leathering and caning my arse at school!”
“No, Dad. This is all very embarrassing.”
“It’s more than embarrassing son. Mr Grimworthy had a suggestion as how to make things better, however.”
“Yes. The nice old chap has lent me one of his school canes. Possibly one that was used on me all those years ago, I suppose.”
Kevin was feeling a bit mellow after a full week at work, so the significance of what his father was saying was lost on him, to start with. However, Jacobson soon outlined his plans.
“I am going to cane you, Kevin. I’m going to cane you hard. On your bare bottom!”
“Dad, you can’t! It’s illegal!”
“Shut up, Kevin. You’re really for it. I’m going to beat you black and blue tonight.”
“No, Dad, you can’t. Please!”
“I can and I will. Now, I’ll do it later this evening, when I’ve had a chance to practice on some cushions. In the meantime, you can arrange a suitable time with Wayne for the pair of you to repair the fencing. At your own expense!”
“You’re not going to cane him then?” asked Kevin, resigned to his fate.
“No, I’m not. He’s not my problem and I don’t particularly like his folks.”
“Dad, it’s not fair!”
A couple of hours later, Kevin could hear the unmistakable sound of the cane in action. His father was whacking some cushions in the living room. The sound could be heard in Kevin’s bedroom as it was immediately above. His father was admiring the cane. What a wicked weapon it was! Yes, Mr Jacobson’s mind raced back to his school days and his many encounters with the rattan rod. It was even worse than Grimworthy’s old brown leather strap, which stung like mad, but didn’t mark and cut quite like the cane.
It was a sound Kevin had dreaded even more than the sound of the cane in action. It was the sound of his father calling him down, just like a naughty boy. And, just like a naughty schoolboy, he was going to get his bottom caned!
“Dad. I’m sorry for what I did. Can’t we sort this out like adults?”
“No we can’t! You are a petty teenage vandal, and I cannot think of anything more appropriate than a good thrashing. I wanted Mr Grimworthy to watch, but he’s not very mobile at the moment. So I’ve arranged to call him on the cordless phone. He can then listen to your beating on his speakerphone.”
Dad wasn’t listening. Instead he was dialling his old teacher. The former pupil and teacher had a jovial conversation for a minute or two, while Kevin shifted from foot to foot, biting his lip with barely suppressed aggression. Father laid the phone on the sofa, and fetched the crook-handled cane from its hiding place. Kevin had never seen a cane before. It looked fearsome. His father swished it through the air a few times before slamming it down on the sofa next to the phone. It made a wicked and frightening crack as it made impact. Jacobson picked up the phone to ask his old teacher whether he’d heard it OK. Indeed he had!
“Right then! Jeans and pants down, Kevin, and the bend over the arm of the sofa. Mr Grimworthy will then be able to hear everything!”
It dawned on Kevin that it might be best to suppress any yells or cries. But how easy would that be? He’d barely been spanked before, let alone thrashed! He thought about it some more. His bottom was now naked as instructed and sticking up in a most humiliating and submissive posture. The shame of it! Then suddenly, the cane whipped down, biting the teen flesh with a vengeance and leaving a distinctive red line. Kevin gasped and then groaned as the pain kicked in. A second stroke followed rapidly, then a third, then a fourth. Kevin couldn’t control himself! Each stroke was now accompanied by a loud exclamation of pain. Grimworthy was listening intently on the other end of the line, trousers and briefs lowered, and cock in hand!
“AAAARRRGH!” Kevin cried as a fifth stroke lashed him. Jacobson was now getting the hang of it all, and enjoying himself. In a frenzy, he lashed further strokes down viciously and relentlessly until a baker’s dozen had been delivered. By now, Kevin was sobbing uncontrollably. Father delivered one last stroke right on target, before throwing the cane down on the sofa, next to the phone. Old Mr Grimworthy’s penis was stiff and throbbing as he’d enjoyed listening to the action. Both Jacobson senior and junior were also experiencing erections. It had been a fulfilling evening for all involved!
“How did I do?” asked the father.
“Sounded just right,” said Grimworthy down the line, “You can keep that cane. He might need a reminder.”
“Indeed, he might. Am I still sending him round a week today for him to apologise in person and take a caning from you as well?”
“Yes. I’ve got plenty of canes. Send him round. You can come and watch if you like. I’ve found my faithful old leather strap too.”
“Oh I remember that only too well. Shall we say 7pm, next Friday.”
A few days later, the fence had been repaired by Kevin and Wayne. Kevin walked past the fencing, only to find it had been tagged by a graffiti artist. The word ‘CANE’ had been sprayed in bright orange! Was it a threat or a warning? Who had sprayed it? Surely it wasn’t Kevin’s father?
Story © MMXIII by Rod Cayenne
D I S C L A I M E R
All characters appearing in this story are over 18 and are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Comments from the original 2013 post are here