Erotica by Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2012.
The two ladies were enjoying a pot of Darjeeling tea together. Only the finest china was appropriate for such an occasion. They sat at the kitchen table sharing chocolate biscuits and tittle-tattle.
“Look at this!” said Brenda producing a laptop. “It’s a computer! I’m on the internet now!” She booted the machine up and was soon showing her friend Audrey family snaps and websites on knitting and ballroom dancing. “It was a present from my nephew Tony, he’s a such a good boy. He’s got a top job in computing.”
“It’s impressive, Brenda,” said Audrey admiring the silver machine. “But aren’t there a lot of dangers with these things, people stealing your identity, stalkers and pornography?”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you read, Audrey. There is a lot of pornography, yes, but let’s be honest, everyone likes to look don’t they?”
Audrey spat out her tea in disbelief, “Brenda, I can’t believe you just said that! Bless my soul!”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude, you old fraud! Look at these for example.”
There were pictures of handsome men with proud erections, gorgeous bottoms and muscled physiques.
“Oooh! Well yes, bless me, I can see the attraction, I suppose. Couldn’t we be arrested for looking at this?”
“By a hunky young copper, I suppose? No, don’t be ridiculous, everyone looks at this sort of thing these days.”
“They do? My, my, what a sheltered life I’ve lived!”
“I’m looking for a toy boy online. After all, there’s more to life than tea and knitting.”
“Yes, one I can mother, pamper and spoil. And spank his bottom when he’s bad. A man in his 30s I should think.”
“I especially fancy the idea of the bottom smacking, actually. It seems a lot of younger men are looking for a strict maiden aunt figure.”
“Gosh Brenda, I’m seeing you in a new light.”
“Yes I feel quite liberated!”
“Well don’t go burning your bra just yet!”
“No I’ll do that when I’ve found my naughty boy online.”
“I used to use the cane at school, you know…”
“Well, no I didn’t know. Come on then, tell me more.”
“Well perhaps it would be best if I brought my canes around. I kept a few as souvenirs when abolition came along. Now you mention it, I’d quite like a toyboy to thrash as well.”
“Well, when I said you were a fraud I hadn’t expected such a rapid confession.”
“Must be the cane. It always seems to get to the bottom of things!”
“Yes, don’t remind me. I used to be on the receiving end.”
“Why am I not surprised? You have always been a naughty girl, Brenda. I’ll go and fetch the canes, then we can talk about luring us some toyboy action.”
A few months later, Brenda is thrashing her thirty-something boyfriend with a harsh, thick leather strap.
“Twenty! That’s it for now. Now lick my boots! That’s it. Nice aren’t they?”
“Oh yes, I love them!”
“Of course you do! Now lick me out!”
“That’s it! Good boy!”
“Now, how about a surprise?” Brenda asked, staring at the clock.
“Mmm, yes please!”
“How about an appointment with the headmistress and her cane?”
“Ooh yes, beat me with the cane!”
“Well, that’s the surprise! I’m not the headmistress. My friend Audrey is! It’s just coming up to 12 – she’ll be here in a minute. Go downstairs and wait by the front door. Don’t bother to get dressed. She only canes bare bottoms!”
Soon Audrey drew up the drive in her old Beetle. She was dressed in a tweed suit, but with shiny white Mary Quant-style boots. She looked a good ten years younger than usual, the blue rinse gone and her hair dyed blonde and swept up in a bun. She walked over to the passenger side, opened the door and retrieved a long bag.
“Ah, you must be Wayne,” she said as he timidly opened the front door, hiding his nudity behind it. “Gosh, what a red bottom you have. It’ll be black and blue by the time I’ve finished with it!”
“Audrey. How nice of you to drop in. I’m afraid young Wayne here says he deserves an appointment with the cane. Can you oblige by some chance?”
“Oh, I suppose so. It’s dreadfully inconvenient though. I should be out walking the dog. He’ll have to convince me that he’s fully deserving of my attention.”
“That won’t be necessary Audrey. I can give you a full report. Wayne is a wanker. He plays with himself incessantly. He has a boot fetish and licks my boots when I am not around. He also has a crafty cigarette despite my clear decision that he should give up.”
“I see, he sounds thoroughly disobedient. Wayne, take this bag upstairs and empty the contents on to your bed! Hurry up lad!”
“Gosh this is fun Audrey! How long since you caned in anger?”
“Not that long actually, my dear. I had a neighbour who liked a touch now and then.”
“Oh Aud! You really are a dark horse, aren’t you? Anyway, there’s a naughty boy waiting upstairs. Can I watch?”
“Of course, darling!”
“Good. Thank you. I do so like to watch!”
Upstairs young Wayne emptied the bag as instructed. He could only gulp as half a dozen canes and a solitary riding crop dropped onto the floral quilt.
“Well Wayne! What do you think to those? Have you had the cane before?”
“Let’s make up for lost time then. I will give you thirteen strokes. Brenda will watch. Bend over the bed.”
Wayne was wondering if there was any significance to the number thirteen when suddenly the first stroke of the cane whipped down. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt! He wanted to swear out loud but before he could, a second stroke lashed down. Brenda clapped her hands with joy.
“Oh yes! This is great!” exclaimed Audrey as she cracked a harsh third stroke down on Wayne’s peachy naked cheeks. “I’ll have to borrow him from you Brenda!”
WHACK! A fourth one landed on Wayne’s red bottom. The two ladies laughed simultaneously. Wayne didn’t feel like laughing. Instead he grimaced and offered his bottom up for another stroke.
WHAACK! He didn’t have long to wait for the fifth. The burn was intense and all-consuming.
“Do it harder, Audrey, he can take it!”
WHAAAACK! Brenda was right. He could take it alright. He offered himself up for more and more.
Wayne was a tough fellow who could take a lot of whipping. Audrey changed canes.
“Last four now Wayne. Take them like a man, not a wanker!”
“Well, you were a bit noisy there Wayne, but I’ll forgive you just this once. What do you say – shall I give Brenda thirteen strokes as well?”
Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne
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.
Comments from the original 2012 post are here