♥ Site recommended story ♥
A repeat of this hot spanking fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne. All the characters are aged 18 or over. Strictly adults only!
Jasper tumbled through the front door, tired after another hectic day at the warehouse. It seemed that every day, the work got busier and busier but his low pay stayed the same. Anyway, he was dead beat. Much to his annoyance, he bumped into his sister. Her movie starlet looks and now a place at college were constant irritations to him, “Lesbian! Lesbian! Lesbian!” he shouted, taking his frustrations out on her.
Jasper’s cruel taunting soon had his younger sibling in tears. Just turned 18, young Hilary had man trouble. Or more strictly, no man trouble. For it was true, she had never had a boyfriend. “Lesbian, Lesbian!” he shouted again. Forced laughter followed from Jasper, but it soon stopped when he felt his father’s firm hand on his shoulder.
“I think you and I have some man to man business to discuss, young Jasper. Up to my bedroom. Now!” A while back, such a discussion would have resulted in a session with the slipper. Jasper was sure such indignities were in the past, at least for him. For he was almost 20, and proud to be working hard for a living.
In the bedroom, Jasper looked worried as his father removed first one, and then the other of his rubber-soled slippers and placed them on the bedding. Father spoke quietly to son, “Didn’t I warn you about picking on your sweet sister? Several times? And yet you still carry on, don’t you?”
“Sorry Dad.”
“It’s no good being sorry now, young Jasper. And just because now I’ve got my slipper ready.”
“Oh Dad, come on! The slipper? The slipper? Really? I’m almost 20!”
“You mean you’re still a teenager, son! A rude, disobedient, heartless one at that! In short, a bully. I think you are long overdue for a reminder of how much the slipper can sting.”
“No Dad, really! I’m almost 20, and Hilary will hear!”
“Yes, I’m sure she will. And perhaps that will teach you to be a lot kinder to her. Really, the way you treat her is nothing short of disgraceful. She’s a delicate girl, and now to top it all you are being a coward.”
“Dad, Dad, come on, be reasonable, I was only teasing her. She can take it.”
“I don’t know about that! But I do know that you can take a good slippering. From me. Right now. Bend over the bed, son. And take your trousers and pants down for me.” Jasper hesitated and played for time, but his father was having none of it, “Do it! And do it now, unless you want me to take them down. Or perhaps I should ask your sister to?”
Father seemed undecided which slipper to use. Left or right? Either one would pack a punch, of that there was no doubt. Outside the bedroom door, Hilary giggled to herself. Nasty brother Jasper was about to get his comeuppance, and she was about to get to hear all of the action. The slipper was soon connecting with the tender bare teenage flesh. Jasper groaned and yelped as the pain got through to him. Hilary was listening, enjoying every single whack, but regretting that the panelled door had no keyhole that she could spy through. She knew there would be no comeback, for she was her father’s pride and joy. A particularly severe blow caused Jasper to cry out, “Owww! For fuck’s sake Dad, I’m too old to be slippered!”
“What did you say? Did you swear? In my house! How dare you?”
“Sorry Dad.”
“You will be! You will be! So, you say you’re too old for the slipper? That’s good to hear because it just so happens that I found my mother’s old cane the other day. The one that kept me and your uncles in line for so many years. Let’s try it out! I’m sure it will prove to be a most effective remedy for bullying, cowardice and swearing.”
“No, Dad! No! Please! I’m sorry I swore. I’m sorry for teasing Hilary. Really I am.”
Father feigned deafness and moved over to the dressing table, opening the lowest drawer. He extracted the cane. It was a traditional schoolmaster’s model, with curved handle and a wicked swoosh as father practised swiping it through the air. The noise alone was enough to fill Jasper with dread and sincere regret.
“On all fours. Stick your bottom out more! I need a good target.” Father had barely-suppressed sadistic laughter in his voice as he instructed his son, “That’s it, higher!”
The cane cracked down for the first time. Outside Hilary was unsure what was happening. She heard the difference in the sound. It sounded something like a whip, crop or cane. It couldn’t be, could it? She couldn’t be sure. How cruel though! But then she remembered how Jasper had treated her over recent months and giggled softly to herself. Yes, Jasper deserved it.
The second stroke was much more powerful, catching the lad by surprise. The almighty crack of the rattan was followed by waves and waves of hot, flaming pain. Jasper collapsed flat on the bed, his hands clutching at his bottom,
“What the? Get up, this instant!” Father ordered, “In position. Now! Four more strokes to come!”
So it was to be the traditional six of the best, thought Jasper. Father lashed strokes three, four and five down rapidly. Jasper felt overwhelmed as the pain went way beyond bad. Outside, Hilary was so excited, she almost felt as if she might wet herself. She was certainly feeling light-headed.
“Last stroke son. Take it properly and we’re done here.” That was a challenge Jasper would have to rise to. He wiped a tear from his eye, and stuck his bottom out submissively, willing his father and the cane to do their very worst. And they did, once again the cane lashed down with a resounding crack which seemed to echo around the sparsely-furnished bedroom.
“OK, son. Get up!” Father flexed the cane right in front of his son, saying, “Now, we’ll have no more of this swearing. Or any lesbian talk, Jasper. Especially from someone who only seems to have male friends at the moment.” Father winked at son. Jasper was worried. He couldn’t know, could he?
Poor Jasper’s bottom was on fire. He looked at his sore bottom in the dressing table mirror. The flesh was flaming red all over, with the added bonus of six ugly cane weals which throbbed and itched and ached and burned. One thing was certain. There would be no mooning the other lads in the warehouse toilets for a good long while.
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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.
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Story © MMXVIII by Rod Cayenne. All rights reserved.
Photo model: Rod
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