5M (M/M)

♥ Site recommended story ♥

Hot and heavy BDSM fiction by special guest author sukemnsee.  Strictly over-18s only!

Bowater billed itself as the fourth largest town in Reeveshire which did not say much for the other towns as it had a population of only about 40,000. Various larger counties on the border had aimed to annex it but so far had been thwarted. The town usefully was at the intersection of two major railways, three roads including the pass through the hills and it was now within five miles of the Motorway. This kept it alive as a trade town, with plentiful light manufacturing and new pioneer business. Trade was what brought me here. I was currently back in Sales seeking orders for the range of brass ferrules our firm milled. A lot of our trade was office and internet-based, but the firms around here were quite old school and wanted to see the representative in the flesh. For me this was a useful diversion, time to travel in fresher air and hone my people skills. I also procured lots of orders this way and the trick of getting the decision makers to place orders was to offer little custom made treats which I could only do by getting to converse deeply. It also proved a good way of tasking the promising apprentices to design and construct novelties, and to assess their skills. 

I had found a pleasant hotel close to Town Centre. It had seen days of high occupancy in the past when tourism was more established.  This was my third visit.  On occupying my room I was pleasantly surprised to find some laundry awaiting me with three shirts on hangers already in my wardrobe. I had somehow forgotten to pick up my laundry from my last visit, so I was impressed by the service they had provided for me.

A while later I went to the ground floor restaurant and headed for a section towards the back that I liked, where I could look at my tablet with wifi and not feel overlooked. The waiter came over and suggested I might prefer to sit further forward as there was a men’s activity function in the basement and noise could sometimes travel. I said I was fine and would probably have my headphones on soon anyway. He gave me a killer smile and moved off. When he brought my aperitif, served exactly how I like it with olives as nibbles, I commented it was quieter than usual that night.  He said it would be busier from 9:15 when some of the club members would finish their evenings with drinks and meals. He left me to look over the menu.

And then I heard it. I know I have an active imagination but I was sure I heard the noise of a cane travelling through air followed by contact. I listened intently and heard it again and this time it was followed by a shout of pain. Just at that moment the waiter came over looking to take my order.  I saw from his name badge that his name was Eric.  I asked him what club was meeting downstairs. He said it was called 5M. I said I had not heard of this society but he said it was a one-off meeting held on the third Wednesday of every month. He looked around conspiratorially and said it was a naughty boys club. I am no poker player but my face must have expressed interest.  Luckily, he could not see the under my table, where I sported a stiff reaction to what I had already heard! He added, “It is for the broad-minded or adventurous. They call themselves curious, I think. Men spanking other men’s botties and a bit more. Quite an age range too with some fit blokes not just old saddos. Kinky.”

He said maybe I would like to dine later and see what some of the participants looked like, perhaps have a mental game imagining who does what.   I agreed I could do with going through some paperwork in my room and finished my aperitif with a promise to return later. I asked if he knew what 5M stood for and with another endearing smile he said it was Martin’s Mischievous Men Mended Monthly.

A few minutes later I was downstairs in the function suite area. I saw a sign by a door labelled ‘5M. Ring for admission.’ There was a little bell on a side table and so I rang that. Nothing happened immediately and I wondered if it could be heard. Then the door opened and a man in a towelling robe came to greet me. I said I was a regular hotel guest who had been given a notion of the activities going on and would like to attend. He asked me in, into an area that was curtained off to make a reception area.  I was told it was a private members group with an annual fee. A charge for each session but the first included in membership. A direct debit plan for regular access was a good option. No photography and phones except for the official organiser, and should advise him if there were any privacy issues. I agreed to join. He then asked if I was top or bottom, not leaving any scope for versatile. I decided to say bottom and was handed a bag for my clothes and a pair of hotel slippers and told to strip naked before going through the end curtain. He would pick up and store my clothes right after and if I needed toilet facility it was immediately right after the curtain.

I was immediately nervous and was rather slow undressing but this turned out fine for as fast as the robed man (later I knew him as Justin) went then the bell sounded and I was joined by a fit young hunk named Andy who was obviously a regular on the debit plan. He was told I was a newbie and to guide me. So it was that we both left the curtained area together, fully naked. I noticed his generous endowment and fine physique.

He led me straight to an area with several chairs facing each other. This was the compulsory warm up area. Tops would install themselves on the chairs and wait. We were required to stand and face a wall nearby with hands on head until called. Meanwhile others could if they wished touch our bodies. This area also remained in use throughout and not just on point of entry.

We both stood there a few minutes and were conscious of people behind us. I know Andy got attention immediately but it was not long before I too was being felt. Anonymous fingers rubbing my nipples, stroking my bottom, teasing me in front. My body is always responsive and it was a job to stay still. Suddenly I am grabbed by the left ear and hauled to a chair and virtually thrown over the knees of a stern older man, already seated. My hands found stability on the floor but with my bottom upended I am less sure of my feet. The man speaks not to me but to the delivery man. He asks Jones what he knows of me. He is told I am lewd and not able to control myself. He then says I am a smoker.  Well that is true and I am about to assert my right to smoke but as I plan to speak he declares that I was charging money or favours to help others with homework and not being kind to the stupid boys. I realise this is some kind of role play just as a big gym slipper lands heavily on my bottom. It hurts just as much, in fact more being bare bottom, as it did years ago at school. The slipper lands many times and I know I am squirming. After a pause, a very hard hand comes down relentlessly and really heats me up reaching more areas than the slipper did. I don’t care to cry out but I am surely not silent. I get told to stand and return to the wall and I obey. I see as I pass that Andy is getting a good hand spanking too but his tormentor is much younger. A few minutes later he comes up to me and feels my bottom commenting it is still warm. On invitation I check him out and he is quite hot and pink. He tells me to follow and he will show me the rest.

As we walk around I realise there are a lot of guys fully naked though some are wearing chastity devices. Most of the other men, the tops, wear fulsome jockstraps and some have an additional leather harness over shoulders.  We go past a few men fastened against diagonal St Andrews Crosses. At one the master is running a pinwheel at places and interspersing with swipes of a small flogger.  Andy leads me to a corner with a blackboard on easel and some school desks with inkwells. On a side table are some clothes and we dress in short grey shorts, a simple white shirt with narrow collar and add a ready made tie fastened with an elastic cord. We sit down with two others then a master comes in with flowing gown over a three piece tweed suit. He glares at us all and starts asking simple sums, writing up answers on the board. Suddenly I cry out as something hits my cheek. It is a blue ink pellet. The master demands to know who threw it but there is silence. We are commanded to hold out our hands and the culprit, one of the others, is evident. He is called to the front and told to hold his hands up front. From within the folds of the gown the master produces a brown leather tawse of about 15 inches length and 2 inches wide with the split end tails. The boy blubbers and pleads but is told to hold the inky fingers and hands high. He does so still trying to act bravely in front of others. The master knows his trade, just as he knows this boy well, and brings the strike down effectively. The boy screams and has to re-position the hands once more for another fiendish blow. Again he cries out and this time has to swap hands, hardly able to use the beaten hand to support the new target. Two more strokes but luckily that is all. As he returns to desk he holds his hands out. They are shaking and the redness shows they are throbbing. The master lays the tawse in vision ready for next use.

Sure enough, the next victim was Andy who was called forward and made to bend over.  We had a prime view of his muscles in shorts so tight they were like a second skin. He got four really strong strokes.  He stayed silent but had to readjust his position after each blow. After a pause, he stood up.  The master immediately asked whether this was to make it easier to unfasten his shorts!

“Hurry up and get back down.”

He dropped his shorts and as he bent over we could see four clear red bands where the tawse had impacted.  He then got four fresh strokes.  Each one caused him to  grunt, and each one left a strong red inflammation. He was sent back to his seat but was not allowed to pull up his shorts.  Instead he had to sit on bare wood. A few minutes later class was dismissed! We returned the uniform and carried on naked. We stopped by one of the crosses and waited with hands on our heads. This obviously excited Andy as I noticed a definite stiffy! When a master came over in a full leather outfit it was me he selected. I was tied forward with hands outstretched above. He started pumping and kneading my chest and twisting my nipples. I writhed in the agony it was but also with excitement. Next came a small flogger, never lashed heavily, but enough for stinging impact.  I was then turned around and refastened. Now my shoulders and back got light attention, and then my thighs. During all this Andy was on his knees below me, charged with keeping me excited using his fingers. He was good and I hoped I would not cum just yet. The flogging intensified on my buttocks. It was not enough to seriously mark but enough to get me hot and tender. The master let us go and Andy led the way back to the chairs. There we each had a fun master who roasted our behinds but also kept us right on the edge of peaking.  Just as our masters stopped tanning our hides, the little bell rang incessantly. Everyone now gathered in the centre by the trestle over which various people had been caned earlier. This was the finale! Andy had said there was usually a special planned climax each month. A hooded young man of dusky complexion and even more defined muscles than Andy was brought into the centre. He was already stiff, and I noticed he sported a Prince Albert piercing. The hood was now removed and he faced us all. A doctor figure wearing a white coat went through the charade of a medical.  It was that guy Justin who had greeted us earlier.  He played with a stethoscope and doing the cup and cough test.  A lubed and gloved finger also came into action, probing the desirable body. The doctor pronounced his patient fit for punishment. The lad was now bent over the trestle and secured with some padded cuffs. A man of stocky build with bare hairy chest and leather trousers stepped forward carrying an implement that seemed to be a series of light canes fastened into a handle. I had never seen one like this. I would not have called it a birch but it was going to mean that every strike had multiple impacts.

The room was momentarily quiet as the punisher got into position to the left of the young man. Reaching out he lightly tapped the implement on the unmarked flesh. The lad looked so vulnerable tied down, legs spread and a tasty pair of testicles on view. The punisher stood back and with a swish the first blow made contact. The victim gave a sharp gasp as the pain registered. We saw the rods splay on impact, leaving behind a whole series of parallel red lines. Someone called, “One!”  Another stroke fell seemingly overlapping the first.  This produced an unrestrained shout and the voice called, “Two!”  Everyone in the room was focused on the action. The third blow was lower still.  The whole bottom was red now.  The next strike was much lower but aimed upward as if to lift the under flesh it caught.  It was accompanied by a howl from the victim as the count of four was called. The next stroke was lower still but not angled, and punished the top of the thighs.  The victim screamed. Andy whispered to me that a thigh stroke was usually a personal punishment, reserved for the very naughtiest!  This was reinforced as the next one was almost in exactly the same point.  A lusty scream accompanied it. The count was now at six. The next one whistled through the air. The man counting said, “Seven!” and then told two men to step forward. On direction, standing one to each side they rubbed their hands all over the reddened bottom, tracing the multiple ridges with their fingertips.  They were told to get back and the punisher now approached from the right side and had transferred the birch canes to left hand.  A broad, powerful sweep followed, landing centrally. The blow was rewarded with another howl.  “Eight!”  The ninth was another undercut stroke, met with a long howl. The tenth was back to the upper thighs.  The lad screamed, and writhed, almost making the trestle jump about.  The same two men were called forward and spread the buttocks apart so that the unmarked flesh in the cleft was visible. The lad realised what was happening and started pleading.  The punisher paid no heed and aimed a vertical stroke hard into the cleft!  The victim started to sob.  Another stroke and it was back in standard fashion, quite central, with no cry at all this time. The count of twelve was given and the punisher dropped the tied canes at the man’s feet and walked off.  The evening’s entertainment was drawing to a close. The young man was unfastened and helped to stand. Some guys clustered around him, but I headed to collect my clothes. Andy asked if I was likely to stay for dinner and I told him I was in fact staying at the hotel and invited him to come and shower with me!  I resolved to time my future trips to coincide with 5M club meetings!

On re-entering the restaurant, Eric was still on table service. He commented that I had timed it well to be with those who attended the meeting!  He was probably fully aware I had indulged myself with a furtive visit to the club, but he was being mischievous.  Andy addressed him as Martin and asked why he was not around earlier.  The reason was a pair of young waiters had both dropped out of shift leaving him desperate for cover and with no time to arrange agency replacement. It turned out that Eric was the Catering Manager, but due to the staff shortages was having to wait tables that evening. Andy offered to take notes when Eric tackled the absent waiters over their attendance.  Both men smiled, which revealed volumes.

All in all, this had been a very successful trip.  Thanks to the club many of my fellow diners had seen this sales representative in the flesh.  I resolved to time my future trips to coincide with 5M club meetings!

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D I S C L A I M E R

All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real businesses or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Story © MMXVI by Sukemnsee, used here by very kind permission

Photos © MMXIII by Jonathan, R.I.P.

All rights reserved

More stories by this author can be found here

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Comments welcome

The Tomato Slicer (M/M) repeated

♥ Site recommended story ♥

A short retro fantasy by special guest author 11plus – repeated from 2013.

Oh no, it wasn’t at all easy working in the big old city in those days. I was finding it hard to come to terms with my bisexuality. I was young and impressionable and living in some very strange accommodation. I wasn’t earning much and I worked in a grim old office block, which resembled something from the DDR, or somewhere else from behind the Iron Curtain.

Strangely enough, the highlight of my workday was often going to buy a sandwich at lunchtime. I’d tried several takeaway cafés and sandwich bars when I hit upon one I really liked. The food – the sandwiches – tasted great. They were made to order, usually by an Italian guy I took to be the proprietor. I soon developed a gay crush on him. He wasn’t my first, but one of the early few. I think it was his sideburns, more than anything. Yes, it was definitely his bushy black Teddyboy sideburns. His hair was slicked back, possibly with something like Brylcreem. More likely, its Italian equivalent. That or olive oil! Anyway, at the time this extra virgin didn’t know what to make of my feelings for him.

There was something particularly sexy about watching him prepare your sandwich. His big strong hands held a sharp black-handled kitchen knife. He had great technique, and could cut a tomato into wafer-thin slices that seemed to defy gravity by staying together, rather than falling apart. Needless to say, I always ordered something with tomato in, just to watch this dusky, swarthy, sexy beast in action. After a few weeks, I think he had me rumbled. I felt my attentions were unwelcome and I didn’t want him to knife me! Sadly, I took my business elsewhere. That horny man still figured in my dreams and fantasies. In them, he’d put down the sharp knife and pick up a school cane to beat me with! Or have me over his knees for a hot and relentless hand spanking. Or thrust his Italian stallion penis towards my tender, youthful buttocks. Or maybe all three! Yes, he was sex on legs and figured in my fantasies for a long, long time.

I remember too, that in those far off days, decent porn was hard to find.  The Tom of Finland guys had those sideburns I loved alright, and a healthy helping of macho sex. But popular gay mags like Zipper and Vulcan just didn’t cut it for me. The lads were too young and, ahem, clean for my taste. Although in hindsight, I rather wished I’d had the guts to model for a photoshoot back then! Anyway, hot older guys just didn’t seem to figure in the gay porn I could find. You could find them in among the pages of fun in spanking mags like Februs, London Life, Janus, Blushes and Swish! but they were always thrashing beautiful female buttocks there.

They were hot enough, but sometimes only a meaty, hairy male arse will do, won’t it readers?

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© MMXIII by 11plus

All rights reserved.

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D I S C L A I M E R

All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment.

Duty Of Care – Part 7 (F/M, F/F) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011.  Adults only! This is the final part of the story, for now at least!

Roxy, the girl from the fetish sex shop, had enjoyed watching PC Tim caning his friend Charles.

She was turned on, in short.  Looking around the room, she had seen the “Bum Chum” leather strap.  She insisted on using it on both Tim and Charles.

Charles had felt it before of course, courtesy of his policeman friend.  But Tim hadn’t been thrashed for a long time and frankly found the strapping very hard to take.  With each blow, Roxy’s glee was apparent.  She shouted at Tim that he was a wimp and a girl, as the “Bum Chum” leather strap thrashed down.

Afterwards the three of them were lying naked in Tim’s double bed.  Tim and Charles had been telling Roxy about how the thrashing of Ben for speeding had led to all sorts of sexy and disciplinary games, especially with Superintendent Sara Llewelyn.

“I can’t believe I have fallen in with such a bunch of perverts,” she laughed.

“That’s good coming from a sex worker!”  PC Johnson replied jokingly.

“I’d like to meet Sara,” said Roxy, thoughtfully.  “Do you think she’d take the cane from me?”

“Unlikely, I’d say,” said PC Johnson.  “She’s pretty dom.  Like so many of my colleagues!  What do you think, Charles?”

“Hard to say.  She’s full of surprises.  I think she and Ben have become quite close.  I think you should ask her Tim.  If it’s a yes, I’d like to be in the audience!”

“Mmmmm, me too.  I must say, I’d like to see her taken down a peg or two.  Or a stripe or two.  I’ll ask her tonight.  Oh yes, I’d certainly like to watch as well…”

“Well if you can arrange it, of course you two pervs can watch.  No wanking though!”

And so it was that Roxy and Sara got to meet.  Sara had been intrigued when Tim told her about Roxy’s wish.  Sara had drawn the line at having an audience though.  Especially when one of them was from the junior ranks.  At least the two guys could have a wank together…

Roxy gazed into Sara’s eyes.

“So Sara, I hear you have been getting your kicks from caning Ben and Charles.  Abusing your position of trust and duty of care.  Screwing around as well.  Well, I am here to correct your behaviour.  You will remove your uniform now!”

Soon Sara was stripped to her bra and panties.

She was unaccustomed to being ordered around, but it felt good to abandon control.

“Bend over!”  Roxy ordered.  Sara did as she was told only to find Roxy’s hands immediately groping her bottom.  Roxy rubbed the cheeks gently for a while, then vigorously, and then delivered a resounding SLAP!

“What a naughty girl you’ve been Sara.  I do believe you have been trifling with my friend Tim.  That’s PC Johnson to you, of course!  And then you have been hanging around with that creepy Charles!  And beating his stepson!  I think we’ll start with twelve of the best, don’t you?”

“Yes, Roxy.  I deserve it”.

“Yes, you certainly do.”

Roxy picked up the cane.  It was a beauty.  With a beastly bite.  She swished it around.  The sound was thrilling.  She put the cane down and started to strip off her own clothes until she too was just in bra and panties.

“Exceptionally bad behaviour, I’d say.  Twelve very hard strokes.  On a naked bottom.  Get those knickers down for me!”

Once again, Roxy’s wandering hands massaged the bottom on offer to her.  Her fingers strayed towards Sara’s arsehole.

“I hear your fingers have been inserted into Ben’s rectum.  I think that may require additional punishment from my cane.”

“Yes, Roxy.  I shouldn’t have done it, of course.”

SLAP!

“Of course you shouldn’t have!  Don’t you think the poor boy was humiliated enough by having his arse thrashed by three different adults?”

“He’s hardly a boy.  He’s 23 and all man!”

SLAP!

“And what do you mean by that, Sara?”

SLAP!

“Oh, nothing!”

SLAP!

“I’ll give you nothing!”

And with that the cane swept down with a SWISH CRACK!

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!”

Sara had never been on the receiving end before.  It was hell!

SWISH CRACK!

“OWWW!”

SWISH CRACK!

“OoooWWW!”

SWISH CRACK!

“AARRRRGGHHHH!”

Roxy was enjoying this.  Sara was not.  She couldn’t understand how some people were turned on by being caned.  She felt sick.

SWISH CRACK!

“OWWW!”

SWISH CRACK!

“OW!”

The caning was relentless.  Her arse throbbed and throbbed.  The sting was unbearable.

Swish CRACK!

SWISH CRACK!

“Arrrgh.  No more!”

“Shut up you cruel bitch!” Roxy admonished with a certain hypocrisy.

CRACK!!

“Aaaarrrggh.  PLEASE!  No more!”

SWISH CRACK!  SWISH CRACK!

SWISH CRACK!

Sara was sobbing and howling.  She’d had no idea how much the cane could hurt.  She felt guilty about the way she had abused Ben.

“I’m so sorry Roxy.  I’ll never lay another finger on Ben.”

“And what about Charles and Tim?  They are not your playthings any more either.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Roxy.”

“And this anal fingering business is just disgusting.  Whatever were you thinking of?”

“Oh that’s nothing.  I think guys enjoy that sort of thing”.

“Well, let’s see if you enjoy that sort of thing, shall we?”

With that, Roxy wiped her finger on Sara’s moist cunt.  Roxy then shoved her finger up Sara’s arsehole.  Sara was suspiciously quiet.  It felt good.  It felt even better as Roxy moved her finger around and around and in and out!

“Six more with the cane!”  Roxy announced suddenly.  Somehow that would feel less good…

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Story  © Rod Cayenne, 2011

Comments welcome!

Duty Of Care – Part 6 (F/M, M/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011.  Adults only! 

“Hello Ben!”

“Superintendent!”

“What’s the matter, not expecting me?”

“Er no, not really.  My stepdad’s not here”.

“Oh well, never mind.  You going to let me in then, sonny?”

“Oh yes, of course, come right in”.

“So, Ben have you been behaving yourself?”

“Make yourself comfortable, Superintendent.  I’ve certainly been trying to behave better.  You know, those canings certainly made me focus.  All the same, I don’t think that it’s fair that I endured those three thrashings when Wayne and Barry got off with fines and driving bans.”

“Life’s not fair, Ben.  In the police you see all sorts of horrifying and unfair things.  I’m not here to discuss your friends.  But for what it’s worth, we are keeping a good eye on them and if they step out of line again they will get a nasty, nasty shock!  All the same, you do seem to have a bit of a chip on your shoulder about it.”

“So would you, if you’d had 90 strokes of the cane!”

“See what I mean!  You need to lose that grudge and that attitude, don’t you Ben?  Fetch both of the canes!”

“Oh no!”  Ben’s face flushed and he was on the verge of tears, “I didn’t mean it!”

“Oh yes you did!  Now listen to me, Ben.  You are a handsome young man.  Foolish but handsome.  I’m going to give you a caning as a reminder and if you take it well, then I suggest we go and celebrate in your bed.  How does that sound?”

“Errrr sounds great, thank you, thank you!  I’ll go and get the canes, thanks!”

He rushed upstairs and got the canes from the cupboard.  The Superintendent was hot stuff but even he couldn’t believe he was so keen.  This could make all the suffering worthwhile!

“Good boy.  You can call me Sara.  Now get all those clothes off.  Except for your left sock.”

What’s with the sock thing again?  Ben was puzzled.  He wasn’t going to spoil things by asking though!

“OK Ben.  Looking good.  Nice and stiff, I see.”

“Yes, Sara.”

She grabbed the stiff cock and pumped it a few times.

“Actually Ben, I’ve changed my mind.  I think we’ll stick to Superintendent while the cane is in action,” her voice hardened as she flexed the canes.  “Is that clear?”

“Er yes, Superintendent!”

“OK then Ben.  Just a gentle reminder.  Just twelve with this junior cane, I think,” she smiled sweetly.

Ben sighed with relief but it was short-lived as she then laughed and said, “And twelve with the senior to finish off!”

Ben wondered if she was some sort of psycho and whether entertaining her more than absolutely necessary was wise.  The die was cast however, and all he could do was bend over the arm of the sofa.  He thrust his arse upwards ready for the first stroke, not sure whether he was dreading or craving it.

SWISH-CRACK!

The cane struck his bare cheeks.  He squealed.  He’d forgotten how much the cane stung.

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

She was hitting hard.  Her panties were getting moist and she was looking forward to a romp in bed with Ben.  She had come to admire his body.  She had come to beat the hell out of it.

Meanwhile a little further down the road Ben’s stepfather Charles was lying in bed with PC Tim Johnson.  Tim was wearing only a black police vest.  Charles was as naked as the day he was born.

“Ah, that’ll be Roxy!”

“Who the fuck is Roxy?” asked Charles, somewhat alarmed.

“The girl with the sexy arse from the fetish shop.  I gave her a key.  She’s delivering a couple of canes.  For your bottom!   I promised her she could watch.”

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Story and photo © Rod Cayenne, 2011

Click here to return to the homepage and more caning stories 

Duty Of Care – Part 5 (M/M, F/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011.  Adults only! 

“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.

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

Ben was finding it hard to keep quiet under the stinging caress of the cane.

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

“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.

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK! SWISH-CRACK!

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.”

SWISH-CRACK!

Ben was feeling humiliated but also a touch defiant.  He decided he would try to be silent for these ones too.

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

That one was agony as it wrapped around his thigh.

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAARRGH!” his resolve was broken as another poorly aimed stroke hit his thigh.

SWISH-CRACK!

“OWWWWWW!”

SWISH-CRACK!

He grunted.

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAARRRRGH!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Arrrrrgh!”

“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.

SWISH-CRACK!

“You are being beaten for your total disregard of the law.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“You are being beaten as an alternative to a custodial sentence.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“You are being beaten for our entertainment and pleasure.  Isn’t that right, Sara?”

“Oh yes!  Do it harder my love!” she replied.

SWISH-CRACK! SWISH-CRACK!

Ben was in tears now.

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAARGGGH!”

“The Superintendent will review your punishment to decide whether it is sufficient or whether more is required.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Your friends aren’t getting the luxury of this alternative.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Perhaps prison awaits them.”

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

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

Comments always welcome

Part 6 will follow soon!

Duty Of Care – Part 4 (M/M, F/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011.  Suitable for adults only! 

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?

“OK.”

“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 © 2011 by Rod Cayenne.

Comments welcome.

Duty Of Care – Part 3 (M/M, F/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from the happy days of 2011. All of the characters are aged 18 or over. Strictly adults only!

 

A fortnight had passed since 23-year-old Ben’s thrashing by PC Tim Johnson.  Ben was staring out of the window, awaiting the return of his tormentor.  He scratched his arse idly.  The thrashing had been hell.  It had been the worst thing he had ever experienced.  More than that, though, it had been thoroughly exciting.  Now he faced the second half of his punishment.  His stepfather, Charles, had been teasing him mercilessly for the last couple of days.

Ben’s humiliation would be worse this time, as the audience would be larger.   PC Johnson would be bringing the Superintendent with him.  The Superintendent had agreed to the waiving of all charges if Ben agreed to the 60 strokes of the cane.  A police patrol car pulled up outside the house.  Ben felt sure some of the neighbours might be in on the secret.  But then, he always was a little paranoid.  His heart sunk further as PC Johnson and a leggy female police officer got out of the car.  Only then did the awful truth dawn on him.  The female was the Superintendent!

“Let them in boy,” Charles said to his stepson.

Introductions were made and Superintendent Llewelyn could hardly hide her glee about what she was about to see.  She quickly took command of the situation.  “Ben I am here because I have agreed to you escaping proceedings if you take 60 strokes of the cane on your naked buttocks.  Fetch the cane now and don’t keep me waiting!”

“Bring both the canes, son” stepfather Charles added.  “They are hanging in my wardrobe.  Hurry up unless you want extras!”

Ben ran up the stairs.  He could hear laughter from downstairs.  Nervously, he opened the wardrobe and found the canes waiting for him.  He quickly took them downstairs as he certainly didn’t want extras.  He was keen to get the remaining 30 strokes over and done with.

The Superintendent spoke, “Ben, you will take 30 strokes today, and 30 more in a fortnight.”

“But I’ve already had 30 strokes.  Two weeks ago!”

“Well, that maybe so but I didn’t see them did I?  I have to witness all 60 strokes.  Think yourself lucky you are getting off so lightly.  If you’ve really had some strokes before, you can regard them as a warm-up.”  Tim and Charles chuckled out loud.

“But…”

“SHUT UP!  Unless you want to go down to the station, perhaps?”

“No, it’s OK.”

“Good.  That’s better.  I like an obedient boy!”

Tim held the door open as Charles brought in one of the tall stools from the breakfast bar.  The Superintendent was playing with the canes, swishing and flexing them.  Ben was almost crying.  His sentence had been increased by 30 strokes and now he was worried that he would be caned by the the female.

“Over the stool” she commanded.  She unbelted his jeans and pulled them right down.  Roughly she yanked his briefs down too.  All was revealed to her.  The naked arse and a semi-erect cock.  She gently rubbed the naked cheeks, then a rapid SMACK – SMACK – SMACK as she spanked them unexpectedly.  Ben’s shame was complete, and his penis stiffened further.

“PC Johnson will do the honours.  Tim, I want all 30 strokes to be with this junior cane.  It won’t mark as much as the senior, which is to be regretted, but the sting should be much worse.”  She smiled sadistically.  “I want all 30 strokes delivered quickly without a break.  The pain should build up nicely for young Ben here.  Ben, I want no nonsense from you.  You are to hang onto the bottom rung of the stool.  Is that clear?”

“Yes Superintendent,” Ben said submissively.

One – Two – Three.  Ben was already yelping.

Four – Five – Six.  He was grunting and sighing. He was bucking and kicking, too.

“Ben – that’s enough of that behaviour!  You will be still under the cane or else.  I am thinking extras already,” she laughed.

“No, I’m sorry I will behave,” Ben assured her.

Seven – Eight – Nine – Ten – Eleven – Twelve – “AAARRRGGGHHH” shouted Ben.

“Last warning Ben!  Are you sure you’ve had the cane before?  You are acting like a little child.  Carry on Tim, make them hard ones.”

PC Johnston resumed the caning with renewed gusto.  He had a big grin as he slashed the cane down on the naked bottom before him.  Thirteen. Charles was also looking happy and lusting after both Superintendent Llewelyn and Tim.  How horny they looked in their black uniforms. Fourteen – Fifteen – Sixteen – Seventeen – Eighteen – Nineteen – Twenty.

 “Last ten now Ben.  I am really enjoying this.  Make them extra hard Tim!”

Ben couldn’t believe she was asking for the strokes to be even harder.  What a bitch, he thought.

21 – 22 – 23.  Ben was gasping now.  She was right, the junior cane stung much more intensely.  24 – 25 – 26. “OWWWWW!”

27 and 28 were the hardest yet and 29 and 30 were sliced into him as cross strokes.  He was crying heavily.

“Very good, Ben.  Bit of a tough nut aren’t you?”  she said winking at Tim and Charles.  “More of the same in a fortnight then.  I will then decide if you’ve had sufficient punishment to waive all the charges.  Now let us have a good look at that bottom of yours.  Ah.  A bit of a mess isn’t it?”

Ben was crying but still bent over the stool.  His agony was being prolonged.  Another 30 strokes and then she might think he needs some more!  This was terrible.

Ben was further humiliated as Superintendent Llewelyn thrust her middle finger right up his arsehole.  A minute or so later, stepfather Charles couldn’t resist doing the same.  Tim was a little more reserved but indulged in a good feel of the hot fleshy buttocks that he had enjoyed thrashing minutes before.

_______________)

Content © Rod Cayenne, 2011

Comments welcome

Duty Of Care – Part 2 (M/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011 with some minor revisions.  All the characters are age 18 or over.  Suitable for adults only.

The two men set off back with a view to beating 23-year-old Ben.  Charles reflected on events.  The original plan had been for them both to discipline Ben.  Now, however, it seemed that Tim had muscled in and would be doing all the caning.  Perhaps Charles would get a chance to discipline Ben once this speeding business was out of the way?   Worse, Tim’s commanding ways had resulted in Charles bending over for a caning himself.  Even worse, Charles had enjoyed it and the throbbing and pain in his arse was a reminder of that.

As they approached the house, Charles said, “Why don’t we take Ben for a ride to the prison to really scare him?”

“Good idea, we’ll pass the police station on the way,” said Tim.

“I’ll wait in the car shall I?”

“OK then, I’ll just unlock it for you.”

After what seemed like ages Charles emerged from the house, followed by a very sheepish-looking Ben.  Tim noted that Charles had given the mobile phone back to Ben.  The lad was clutching at it like it was a long lost lover.

“Hello Ben.  Who’s been a naughty boy then?”

“Er, hello Sir.  I’m very, very sorry for what I’ve done.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.  Get in the back of the car and keep your mouth shut.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.  Where are we going?”

“I SAID SHUT IT!”

Ben blushed furiously and stared at his feet.

“Charles, can you stop at the police station for a minute please?  I need to call in, there’s something I’ve forgotten.”

They pulled up outside the station.  Tim nipped inside but he wasn’t long.  He climbed back into the car.

“Next stop, HM Prison Greydale, I think, Charles.”

They pulled up outside the prison and all got out.  Charles and Tim were chatting to each other at length.  Ben surveyed the prison walls and the dark forbidding doors.  It was a Victorian prison and it looked absolutely horrible.

“How do you fancy calling this place home then, Ben?” Charles said to him. “Tim hasn’t been able to arrange a visit for us, but of course you maybe seeing it inside soon, anyway”.

Ben’s eyes moistened.

“Yes it’s pretty grim in there, Ben. A guy in his early twenties could be a real attraction to some of the older predatory inmates, if you get my drift,” said Tim.  “It’s a shame there isn’t time to organise a guided tour of the place.  It’s full of history.  There is even a whipping post.”

“Let’s head back. We have a lot to talk about,” said Charles.

“Sorry to be a pain, but I will need to pop into the station again,” Tim informed them both.

“That’s OK, Tim.  Duty calls, eh?  I’m sure Ben won’t mind waiting, will you?”

Ben shook his head. He was just glad to get away from the dark, satanic prison.  While Tim was back in the police station, Charles and Ben talked.

“You know my feelings about discipline, don’t you Ben?  What a shame that whipping post is out of commission, because that’s what you, Barry and Wayne deserve.”

“I only wish it was that easy,” Ben sighed.

Charles thought to himself, “Caught in the trap!”

Back at the house the three men went into the living room.  It was time for the serious chat.

Charles started, “Ben we have been to the prison. You didn’t like the look of the place did you?  Although maturely, you regretted the passing of the whipping post.”

Tim then took over, “I’ve spoken to the Superintendent. We have agreed that if you take a whipping from me, you will escape the charges.  But it will have to be severe.  On your bare bottom”.

Charles added, “But we are not cruel men. We won’t be using a whip on you.  Instead we will use these two school canes I found when I was clearing out your Uncle’s place.  Heaven knows what he used them for, but I’m glad I didn’t throw them away.  Do you agree to this?”

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” said Ben, looking very remorseful.

“No, not really.  Unless you fancy the slammer?”

“No, I don’t.  So, six of the best then?” said Ben.

“No!” said Tim taking over.  “You were doing sixty, so the Super and I have decided that sixty strokes would be appropriate.  Your step-father agrees.”

“Sixty?  I’d never be able to cope with that!”

Charles added, “As I said, we’re not cruel men.  We will split it into two sessions of thirty, a fortnight apart.  The Superintendent had planned to join us as a witness but that will have to wait until next time.”

“OK, OK, but I just know I’m going to regret this!”

“What you should be regretting is speeding and endangering life!”

“Now go to your room.  We’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Charles and Tim sat on the sofa and laughed to themselves.  “So all thirty to be bare?”

“Yes why not?  We might as well get the maximum pleasure from our little game.”

“Yes, it’s going to be fun.  I hope he is a real wimp about it.”

“No way of knowing, really.  Bring the canes, let’s go and get started!”

Up in the room, Ben was gazing out of the window.  But even that was little comfort to him, for there on the hill in the distance was the prison.  His eyes moistened as he dwelt upon his comeuppance.  Then he heard the two men coming up the stairs, still laughing.  How cruel they were, despite their claims to be otherwise.

“Well my boy, I think we’ll have those trousers off.  And the briefs.  Might as well take your top off, too.  And your socks!”

Ben was really ashamed now that he was completely naked.  Worse, he felt an erection coming on.

“Yes, exciting isn’t it?” said Tim, noticing the proud stiffy immediately.  “It’s not every lad who gets his arse caned by a policeman.  You are a very lucky boy.  Bend over.  There will be thirty strokes.  Eighteen with this cane, which is apparently known as a junior cane, and twelve with the thicker senior cane which Charles is holding.”

Crack! Crack! Crack! Three whippy strokes, not too harsh, but then Tim got into his stride laying on nine more strokes of increasingly harsh intensity.

“AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH,” Ben cried and huffed.  He wriggled like a girl as the cane whipped down harshly.

“OK stand up a minute, Ben. I want to see if that erection has gone”.

It had.  Ben was crying real tears after these first twelve strokes.

“Right over again! Six more with the junior cane”.

SWISH-CRACK!

“OWWWWW!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“ARRGH!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“OUCH!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

SWISH-CRACK!

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!”

“There.  Learning our lesson are we boy?  Laws are there to be obeyed.  People are to be respected. Speed limits are there for a reason!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Charles had been quiet until this point. “Stay down Ben while I check your bottom.”  He gave it a most thorough check.  It was something he had never had the opportunity to do before.  He was smoothing the flesh, kneading the flesh, feeling the ridges.  He even probed the arsehole with just the tip of his finger.  He withdrew his finger and sniffed it nonchalantly, saying, “He can take a lot more punishment, Tim. Twelve really hard ones with the senior cane.  Make him yelp.”

“OK Ben.  Final twelve for today.   With the senior cane.  You will count these like this: One Sir, Two Sir.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Sir, perfectly clear.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“One Sir.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Two Sir!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAARRRGH.  Three Sir!”

“Only just in time there boy, keep up!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAAAAAAHHHH, four Sir.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Five…Sir.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“SIX SIR!” he shouted.

SWISH-CRACK!

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!  Seven Sir.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHH .  Eight, Sir.”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Nine, Sir, oh please…”

“SHUT UP!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGH!”

“TEN”

“SIR”

“Flagging a little are we boy?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Well tough! This one will be harder!”

And so it was, and at an angle so that it crossed many of the marks of the previous strokes.

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!  Eleven Sir!”

Another mean cross stroke followed…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGH!  Twelve Sir”.

The lad had taken it comparatively well.  Too well.  Charles and Tim were a tad disappointed, although the caning had been thoroughly entertaining for both.  Ben was less entertained and lay on the bed arse upwards crying quietly.

“Same time in a fortnight lad,” Tim said.  Step-father Charles smiled and sniffed his finger once more.  He rubbed his arse, thinking about the caning he himself had not long ago received and looked fondly at policeman Tim.

____________________)

Story © 2011, by Rod Cayenne

Photos © Rod Cayenne

Comments welcome

Comments from the original 2011 post are here

Duty Of Care – Part 1 (M/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2011.

“Ben, at 23 don’t you think that you’re a bit old to be racing your mates?  PC Johnson says you were doing 60 in a 30 zone!  You know, we are lucky to have him as a neighbour.  He reckons he might be able to get you off the chargesheet but Barry and Wayne may not be so lucky.  He’s coming over tonight to talk to us about it.  This is all unofficial, of course.  I don’t want you to talk to your mates about it until you and I have discussed it with Tim.  By the way, I don’t want you to call him Tim.  PC Johnson or Sir will be fine.  Now I want you to go to your room and remain incommunicado.  So give me your phone.  I’ve already unplugged the wireless connection.”

“You’re treating me like a big kid!”

“As your step-father, I have a duty of care.   If you act like a kid you will learn the consequences. PC Johnson and I have an idea which could get you out of trouble.  You know, you could end up in prison for this.  You are – excuse my language – in deep, deep shit.  So give me your phone now!”

“Hello Tim.  Charles here.  Yes, it’s all going to plan.  I’m calling on his phone.  No sense in running up my bill.  I’ve got the canes.  I bought them at that fetish shop you recommended.  I’m going to tell him I found them in his Uncle’s place when I went to clear it out the other day.  Can I come over with them now?  We’ll need to practice on some cushions if we are going to be able to give him the hiding he deserves.”

“Ben.  I’m going out for a few minutes.  You are to stay in your room.  I’ve got your phone so don’t go looking for it.  I’ve also got the wifi box.”

“Oh OK.  I suppose.”

Very soon after that, Charles arrived at PC Tim Johnson’s.  Tim came to the door still in his uniform. They shook hands and both of them laughed, “Tim. I think we’ve got him.  He’s sulking already.  Mainly because he’s stuck in his room without phone and internet.  Still, I guess he can always have a wank or two to relieve the boredom!”

“Charles you really are a beast to him.  Still he does deserve it!  Show me the canes, then.”

“Here you go.  I bought two.  A junior and a senior, the girl in the shop said”.

“Was it the kinky-looking one with the heavy make-up?”

“Yep I’ll say, and an arse you’d just love to stick your tongue in.  Anyway, I’m not too sure about these canes she sold me.  They don’t look up to much if you ask me.”

Tim frowned.  “I’m not asking you about it Charles.   Just remember who’s in charge here.  You really do have no idea about this business, do you?   These will actually be quite severe.  Let me put a cushions on the arm of the sofa and I’ll try a few strokes.  There, that should do.”

“One!” Dust flew everywhere.

“Two!”

“Three!”

“Very nice.  Very, very nice.  Should make quite an impression.  Hand me the senior one, will you?”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

“Four!”

“Five!”

“Six!”

“Excellent, truly excellent!  These will have him yelping, no doubt.  Reminds me of my schooldays.”

“Are you sure they’ll hurt much?  I didn’t get the cane at school, so I’ve really no idea.”

“No, that’s the problem isn’t it Charles?  As I said before, you really have no idea, do you?  I suggest you take one stroke of each cane to get a feel for it.”

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly.  You’re having a laugh.  It wouldn’t be right”

“Nonsense, Charles.  We are friends, aren’t we?  Just bend over here now!  Hurry up. I’m waiting!”

“Well.  I’m not sure.  OK, but it must be our secret.  Don’t be too hard on me!”

“Charles, I really am fed up with your silly attitude.  You need to know how much this will hurt.  Therefore I will have to cane as hard as I propose Ben should get it.  Now, you can keep your pants on, but drop your trousers!  Over you go.  NOW!”

“First, the junior cane.  Here it comes…”

“AAAARGH  SHIT!  OWWWW, that bloody hurt!”

“Language, Charles, GET BACK DOWN NOW!  You wanted to try it and now you are leaping around like a kid clutching your arse!  Get back down.”

“Sorry Tim.  It was quite a shock.  Just what Ben needs though.  OK, I’m ready for the senior cane now.”

“Good.  Now bend over.  If you jump up, you will have to take it again!  Ready?”

“OWWWWWWWWW, OH, that thing’s a killer!”

“Yes I bet it is.  But you’ve got up without permission, so we’re going to repeat it now.”

“Eh?  I didn’t jump up, did I?  Oh, alright.”

“No, it’s not all right!  And now you’ve argued with me so it’s going to be two extras now.  BARE!   PANTS DOWN!  NO ARGUMENTS!  RIGHT OFF!  Good boy.  Now bend over.  Here comes number one.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAARGHH”

“SHUT UP.  Take it like a man.  Ready?”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH.”

“OK, you can get up now and rub your arse if you want.  You make a good schoolboy.  So how was it for you?  Just right for Ben?”

“Oh Boy!  I must admit that was quite a thrill.  I mean, painful!  I’m just worried that Ben might, er, enjoy it in some sort of perverse way.”

“Charles, you mean you did? Tut, tut.”

“Well, I don’t know.  I mean it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.  Phew, my bottom’s sore though.”

“Charles, I’m not sure what to make of all this.  Did you really enjoy that?   How many strokes do you think we should give Ben?”

“I think twelve maybe.  Six with the junior and six with the senior!”

“No, no, no, Charles!  You are too soft.  That lad was doing SIXTY and could have killed somebody.”

“How many then?”

“I would say sixty miles means sixty strokes!  Maybe split into two or three sessions.”

“Or five of twelve.”

“No, no.  We want it to hurt.  Twelve is too few for one session.  We don’t want him enjoying it.  Like you seem to!”

“I really don’t know.  I’m a bit confused by all of this as well.”

“Perhaps I should give you a few more strokes of the senior to see how you feel after that.  Shall we make it the round dozen – so eight more for you?”

“OK but I must be mad.  Can I pull my underwear back up?”

“No, I don’t think so.  Once the pants are down they should stay that way.  I think Ben’s hidings will have to be bare arse, don’t you?”

“Well maybe not for the first stroke or two, but after that, definitely.  He needs beating and he needs it hard.”

“Glad to see you are hardening your attitude.  That Ben has had it too soft for too long if you ask me.  Anyway, enough of this chatter.  Bend over!  I want you to count these strokes out loud!  Call me Sir!”

“One, Sir!”

“Two, Sir.”

“AAAARRRGGHH. Three Sir.”

“Stick your arse out more, boy!”

“AAAARGH.  Four Sir.”

“OWWWWWWWW.  Five Sir!”

“Six Sir.”

“OUCH.  Seven Sir.”

“OWWWW.  Eight Sir”

“Well done, Charles.  I needed the practice.  You took those well.  Apart from the noise, that is!”

“Well it wasn’t easy, I can tell you!”

“Maybe not, but then why do I get the funny feeling you could benefit from regular thrashings?  After all, you have let Ben down by not being strict enough in the past.”

“You’re right, of course.  Let’s talk about that later.  As long as Ben doesn’t find out that I am getting my arse tanned.  That wouldn’t do his discipline any good would it?”

“No I guess not.  Anyway, time you got up and got dressed.  We need to go and sort out Ben.  Do you want me to keep my uniform on?”

“Oh yes please!  That would be good.  Put the frighteners up him.  I’ve told him he’s in deep shit and that we may be able to do him a favour and keep him out of prison!”

“Haha, very good.  Don’t forget the canes…”

_____________)

Story and photo © Rod Cayenne, 2011

Model: Rod Cayenne

Comments are welcome.

Comments from the original 2011 post are here.

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