♥ Site recommended story ♥
Erotic fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne. Repeated from 2013 as part of the new “Birthday Present” season.
All the characters are 18 or older. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!
I’d grown very fond of Uncle Robbie as I left my teens and moved into my early twenties. When I was younger, I’d found him to be rather stuffy and old-fashioned. As I matured though, I began to appreciate his ways. After all, he was a product of his harsh upbringing.
He had often regaled me with tales of his school days. Of his permanently sore bottom, courtesy of strict teachers and sadistic prefects. Then again, he eventually became a caning prefect himself. He was less forthcoming about that! I suspected he was a little ashamed about how he had become a small cog in the machinery of institutionalised brutality.
We used to joke about how I could have benefited from just such a regime. After all, it was no secret that I was a bit lazy and lacking in ambition. Despite this and the depressed local economy, I had managed to secure a part-time position at a local outlet.
Every now and then, it had become customary for me to spend a weekend at Uncle’s place – a timber-clad bungalow in a lovely wood, miles from any neighbour. Those weekends were really special, as we would spend hours exploring the woods, and catching up. There was no TV, but the radio was almost always on, usually blaring classical pieces and often from a foreign station.
This particular weekend, he picked me up straight from work in his beaten-up old Ford. I’d had a bit of a struggle securing the time off, I told him as we headed back to his place.
I knew it had been his birthday the previous day. I’d bought him a little something, and wrapped it neatly in one of my more productive moments. I handed it to him as soon as we got into his place. He looked surprised, although it wasn’t the first time I’d remembered his birthday.
He took his time unwrapping the present. As the contents were revealed he gasped, then chuckled. It was a school cane with a crook handle. It was rather aged, as I’d bought it from an antiques dealer near where I lived.
He picked it up and swished it around. A broad grin crossed his face. He slammed it down on the arm of the chair next to him. It made a fearful crack, causing us both to laugh heartily.
“Well, thank you for the present,” he said eventually, “And really, you shouldn’t have.”
“It’s OK, Uncle. I thought you might like it. It’s not new you know, it’s from an antiques bric-a-brac place.”
“No, Liam. When I say you shouldn’t have, I mean I might be tempted to use it this weekend!”
I laughed nervously. Stupidly, I hadn’t foreseen that eventuality.
“Yes, a very dangerous present. A cane begs to be used, you know? You’d better watch your step, my lad!”
We both laughed. It wasn’t my step I had to watch, it was my arse! I was glad when the subject was dropped as we decided to eat. Over teacakes and jam, there was no more talk of it.
As it was a lovely fresh autumn evening, we took a stroll out into the woods. We saw a deer in the distance. I was quite captivated by it as it seemed so wild and untamed. Uncle told me all about the mating habits of deer, and about the rutting he’d seen more than once.
Back at the bungalow, we both stared at the cane lying on the coffee table. Its presence was making me nervous and I was regretting buying the thing. We didn’t talk about it during the rest of the evening, as Uncle was keen to hear about my job and the family. Only when it was time to turn in, was the subject of the cane brought up, somewhat awkwardly.
“I must thank you again for the cane, Liam. Most thoughtful. Now, why don’t you hang it on the hook on your bedroom door tonight? It’ll remind you to be good. No wanking tonight, mind!”
I was shocked to hear him use that word. In truth, by this time I was terrified of that cane. I did as was expected, however, and hung the cane on the back of the bedroom door. After washing, I lay silently on the bed. The ghostly light from the corridor shone through the glass panel above the door, and onto the cane. The pale light seemed to emphasise the curve of the handle of the cane.
In some ways, I wished I was back home with Mum rather than spending the weekend with Uncle Robbie. Perhaps because of what he had said, my urge to masturbate was strong. As I played with my stiffening cock, I stared at the cane. I wondered what it would feel like to receive a good thrashing from it. I didn’t want it, I told myself, but it would certainly be an experience to remember. My cock was rock hard and desperate for relief. I fantasised about Uncle Robbie caning me as I rubbed my cock frantically. It was a strong orgasm, with cum spurting everywhere. I used some toilet paper I’d sneaked in from the smallest room to dry up the evidence. I didn’t want Uncle to find it. My arse was on the line!
It was a beautiful morning. Sunlight was streaming into the room through the thin curtains and the glass panel above the bedroom door. Time for an early morning wank, I told myself. But evidently, it was later than I thought as suddenly I could hear Uncle Robbie calling me and telling me I had twenty minutes before breakfast was ready. I rushed to the bathroom and had a quick shit, shower and shave.
I dressed hurriedly. As I pulled on my jeans I saw the cane glistening in the sunshine. I took it down and flexed it. As if in a trance, I brought it with me as I made my way into the kitchen/diner.
I put the cane down on the small table. Uncle Robbie looked surprised to see it. We sat down to eat. I tapped at my boiled egg, and we made small talk about the weather and the morning. After breakfast we enjoyed a second cup of filter coffee.
“So, why is the cane here, Liam?”
“I thought you might want it back,” I sighed.
“Nothing you want to confess to then, Liam?”
“Quite sure, thank you, Uncle.”
“Really? I thought I heard noises in the night. Wanking noises.”
“Well, maybe just a little, Uncle.”
“Come off it Liam. No-one has a little wank. A quick one, or a slow one maybe. But you had a full one, didn’t you?”
“Yes, alright I did.”
“Aha! So I’m getting the truth now. Tell me more about it! Uncle wants to know!” he said, picking up the cane.
“Come on Liam, tell me about it. We’re both grown men. No need to be shy with me.”
“Well it was a very good one, if you must know.”
“Tell me honestly, Liam, was the cane in your thoughts?”
“Errrrr. Yes, a little, Uncle.”
“Pah! There’s that ‘little’ word again. You had a good wank and you found the thought of the cane exciting, didn’t you boy?” Uncle Robbie had adopted a more authoritarian air.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Good. In that case a caning does seem to be in order, as you disobeyed me and played with yourself. And you want to find out what the cane’s like don’t you?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I did want to find out what a caning was like. I was ready for it, but not what came next.
“Very good. Now, drop your trousers and pants, and bend over this chair.”
“Bare, Uncle?” I asked, the horror of the thought only just sinking in.
“Of course! I’m not caning you through those bloody thick jeans. You’d hardly feel a thing. The pants won’t make much of a difference but I’ve never caned a bottom that wasn’t bare, and I’m not going to start now. Get them down, lad.”
Slowly, I eased my jeans down, followed by my pants. I felt incredibly foolish with my bottom bared towards him.
“Come on, come on!” he goaded me, “I want to try out my present!”
I bent over submissively, offering my bottom for chastisement. It felt like a very strange thing to have to do. Strangely too, it felt quite thrilling.
Suddenly, the first stroke whipped down. It stung like blazes, I’d never felt anything quite like it! I felt hot all over, but my bottom was definitely hotter still and rapidly overheating. I reflected on how stupid and naive I’d been to furnish Uncle with this instrument of torture.
After a lengthy pause, a second stroke landed a little below where the first had marked me. Again, I was astonished by the severity and intensity. I felt flushed in the face, as I suddenly began to realise that the pain was starting to bring pleasure, too.
As the third stroke fell, I realised I was enjoying the caning. Of course it hurt, but the pain and sting produced waves of erotic pleasure. I wasn’t sure how to react, as I’d never experienced sexual pleasure from a man before.
I let out a most unmanly squeal as the fourth stroke cut into my naked cheeks. I heard Uncle chuckle behind me.
“Feeling it then?” he asked, but it was a question I had no intention of answering.
He slashed another stroke down, saying, “I asked you a question, lad. Are you feeling it?”
Well, as questions go, it was a pretty stupid one. No-one could not feel a caning. Especially one like that. I grunted an affirmative. I’d had five strokes and was hoping that number six would be the final one. I was enjoying the session, and was becoming turned on, but felt that six strokes was all I could take.
After another long pause, stroke six slashed down, slicing into my sore cheeks with real force. My arse throbbed and ached. My cock was stirring. I told myself I’d had my six of the best, so I decided to stand up.
“Not so fast, young man!” Uncle Robbie admonished, “I do believe you can take a little more. Besides which, I’m enjoying using this present of mine too much to stop just now. Bend back over for me please. Bottom out a bit more. That’s it!”
Well, I had to admit I admired his mastery, honesty and even his sadism. As the seventh and eighth strokes hit home, I had to admit to myself that I was enjoying the proceedings too. Nine and ten followed rapidly, which I hadn’t expected. I gasped at the double dose of pain.
Another brace of strokes followed. That was surely it, I told myself. I’d taken a sound caning of a dozen strokes. I started to rise. He pushed me back down again, roughly. I heard the swish and crack of stroke thirteen. Waves of pleasure and pain rushed through me. He whipped a fourteenth stroke down.
That was it! He helped me up, rubbing my bottom gently as he did so.
“Go and sit on the sofa,” he commanded. Soon he joined me. He put his arm around me and said, “Thanks for the cane, Liam.”
“Thanks for the caning, Uncle.”
I seized the initiative and kissed him on the cheek. He followed through immediately, and our lips met passionately. We went to bed. I had lost my caning virginity that day. My anal virginity joined it later that morning too. He was quite the skilled lover. We didn’t see much of the woods the rest of that weekend. I did see rather more of the cane, and my bottom got several more workouts from the rattan and from Uncle’s cock.
As soon as I passed my driving test I moved into the bungalow in the woods. I never regretted buying him that birthday present. It was used constantly, and always with me on the receiving end. He died a few years ago. Now I have a younger lover, and he is the one on the receiving end. I think Uncle Robbie would have approved.
Story © 2013 by Rod Cayenne
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