♥ Site recommended story ♥
Erotic fiction by Roderick Cayenne
Reposted to celebrate Bonfire Night (November 5th in the UK)
THE FACT (INSPIRATION FROM 2011):
Fire crews were called to tackle a large fire on Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh on Bonfire Night. Lothian and Borders Fire Service said the gorse was alight. Arthur’s Seat is an extinct volcano and a popular spot for watching firework displays on Bonfire Night (November 5th in the UK).
Arthur Smith was enjoying his holiday in Scotland. He’d visited a lot of the popular tourist destinations and now found himself in Edinburgh for three days.
One highlight of his visit was to be a session with local disciplinarian Hamish McDonaldson. They had corresponded via an internet spanking contacts site, and now on this cold, rainy evening they were to meet.
“Come in laddie!” Hamish greeted Arthur. “Wipe your shoes and follow me. You can hang your coat there.”
Hamish was pleased to see that Arthur had bought himself a kilt.
“So you want a taste of discipline the Scottish way, do you laddie?”
“Yes, please Sir.”
“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for! And is this discipline to be on your hands or on your seat?”
“I’d prefer it on my arse, Sir!”
“DON’T YOU EVER USE THAT DISGUSTING WORD IN MY PRESENCE, LAD!”
“YOU WILL BE, LADDIE!”
“Yes, Sir, Sorry Sir.”
“Your punishment has been doubled, whether you like it or not.”
He went to a cupboard and drew out a couple of canes, and three tawses.
“Oh yes, you’re going to be one sorry lad!”
He pointed to a leather-covered stool in the corner of the room.
“Bring the spanking stool to the middle of the room. Then bend over it.”
As Arthur bent over, Hamish flicked the kilt up with a cane.
“Ah good lad, no underwear!”
He put the cane down and caressed the cheeks before him. A little hairier than he liked. Perhaps a little more ample than he liked. But the flesh was tender and begging for discipline.
“Twelve with this light tawse. It was going to be six originally.”
The strokes were hard and stinging. The twin tails of the evil tawse wrapped themselves around the generous contours of the bottom. Arthur gasped, and cursed silently. Hamish enjoyed a certain sadistic pleasure as blow after blow reigned down on Arthur’s cheeks.
“How was that laddie?”
“Well, we’ve only just begun. Twelve with this senior belt!” Hamish picked up the dark-coloured Glasgow Corporation tawse from the chair next to the spanking stool.
He surveyed the bottom looking for places to aim. This was difficult as the whole bottom was already covered in marks.
WHACK! A first blow landed and Arthur let out something close to a scream.
“Aha! Getting to you now are we, laddie?”
“I’ll teach you to use disgusting language in my home!”
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The evil tawse did its master’s bidding. Arthur squirmed on the spanking stool. Oh how that beastly leather hurt!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“Please Sir, I can’t stand any more!”
“REALLY? I think you can, you cowardly wee sassenach! Final two with this belt, laddie. See if you can enjoy them.”
The triple tails wrapped around the bare bottom offered so submissively to Hamish.
“AAARGH!” A final cry from Arthur, as Hamish laughed heartily.
“Did you enjoy those last ones, laddie?”
“No Sir. Not really.”
“How strange! I enjoyed them immensely!”
“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”
“Right laddie! Next up I was going to give you a couple with this XH belt. It’s severe. Of course, the couple has been doubled to four. Very appropriate for the four letter word you said.”
“I only said arse, Sir.”
“Are you trying to provoke me, lad? I wouldn’t recommend it!”
“Aye, you will be. You will be. Now shall we play a little game?”
“A game, Sir?”
“Hold your tongue, lad!”.
WHACK! The tawse lashed down. “A!” said Hamish.
WHACK! A harder blow, causing Arthur to buck and squirm. “R!” said Hamish.
WHAAACK! Instant agony spread across the submissive cheeks. “S!” said Hamish, laughing with delight.
WHACK! A fourth blow fell. “E!” said Hamish.
Arthur then felt the hands of his tormentor exploring his naked, disciplined cheeks.
“Laddie, that sure is one fine bottom. It’ll be caned in a minute.”
“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”
But the wandering hands were not finished yet. They caressed the cheeks. The fingers strayed towards the arsehole where they began to probe gently. Arthur moaned submissively, pushing his bottom towards his master. Suddenly six hard smacks reigned down. Hamish then applied a little lubricant and thrust his middle finger up Arthur’s seat. The finger moved in and out and around and around, causing delighted, approving noises from Arthur.
“Time for the cane, laddie.”
Hamish picked up the junior cane. He flexed it and swished it around.
“It was going to be a dozen, but I think you can cope with 24!”
Arthur wasn’t so sure as the first stroke fell. Successive strokes of the beastly cane confirmed his doubts. He had miscalculated when he chose Hamish for his first foray into Scottish discipline. He had met his match and grew ever sorrier as the cane lashed down mercilessly.
At last it was over.
“Well done laddie. Bedtime now. Take this senior cane with you.”
Arthur’s seat was already on fire but would become further inflamed upstairs…
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.
Story by Rod Cayenne, © 2011
Republished again by popular demand, possibly!