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”.
“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!”
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.”
“AAARRRGH. Three Sir!”
“Only just in time there boy, keep up!”
“AAAAAAAAHHHH, four Sir.”
“SIX SIR!” he shouted.
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Seven Sir.”
“AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHH . Eight, Sir.”
“Nine, Sir, oh please…”
“Flagging a little are we boy?”
“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 from the original 2011 post are here