♥ Site recommended story ♥
New to The Canery is this exciting spanking and caning story by very special guest author Baddlad17. All the characters are 18 or older. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!
My nephew Shane was on the whole a good lad, though he often sailed close to the wind. Unlike my own lads he had been brought up without the benefit of a paternal hand to keep him in line, and up till now my sister had always taken care of things as best she could.
He had recently reached the age of eighteen, no longer a boy in the eyes of the law, though his attitude and behaviour was most juvenile in almost every way. The previous evening the telephone had rang loudly, I answered to hear my sister’s distressed voice on the end of the line. Shane had finally gone too far, and she had had enough of his behaviour.
She started to tell me how bad things had become in recent times. Coming home drunk, treating the house like a hotel, and his mother like an unpaid servant. That evening had been the final straw. She had walked in and literally found him masturbating in the lounge, with a porn movie on the TV. She nearly died with the shame because she had invited a couple of the ladies from her weavers club in for coffee. This had caused her, and them acute embarrassment and the ladies were blushing furiously, yet Shane merely stood up and smiled, his manhood still swollen he calmly put it away before reaching for the remote and turning off the movie. He seemed to find the entire episode highly amusing, which just made matters worse.
In desperation she had telephoned me to see if I could take the young pup in hand, and finally give him something he should have had a long time ago. The fact he was now eighteen did not cause me any qualms. I had used corporal punishment on both of my boys till they were in the early twenties. A smile crossed my lips as I extracted the slender cane which had been used many times to curb their bad behaviour. Young Shane needed to feel this cane biting into his bottom, and it was my intention to give him something he would never forget. I was so angry to think of how he had embarrassed his mother, and her friends, and then found the incident funny. It did not occur to him that she had to face those ladies next week, and no doubt the bush telegraph would have gone round the class. How could she ever look them in the eye again? I was determined he would be laughing on the other side of his face, and his bottom would be far redder than his mother’s face.
I placed the cane into a bag and shortly afterwards, made my way across town to my sister’s home. Jean was waiting for me when I arrived, looking anxious.
I don’t know if I can go through with this John, Shane will never agree to this, and he only make life more unbearable for me if we try to force him.
Leave that to me love, and don’t worry. I suggest you make yourself scarce, I will await the little runt’s arrival and deal with him in a way that has been long overdue. I assure you there will be no further behaviour like this, he will be a changed young man by the time I am finished with him.
Jean reluctantly decided to follow my advice and headed out for the evening, leaving me to await the arrival of my errant nephew. It was over an hour later that I heard the front door bang shut and Shane bounced in. He had been straight to football practice after finishing at college, and he had skipped the shower, coming home still in his kit. Despite being indoors he thought it was fine to bounce a football up and down as he came down the hall. I knew this young man needed to be dealt with harshly. I had seen for myself how he treated his home. He was about to have a huge shock.
Shane come in here son.
The door to the lounge opened and my nephew popped his head round the door. He was a little taken aback at my presence, and seemed a little uneasy. He was a good looking boy, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, his face was round with dimpled cheeks and he had a cheeky smile that could melt most hearts, but not mine. He was athletically built, his body toned. His peachy arse was firm and meaty, and his thighs and legs which were covered in thick curly hair were solidly built.
Where is Mum, and what are you doing here Uncle John? He said in a voice that betrayed his sense of unease. I had often threatened to take his pants down and smack his backside for him over the years, which had made him uncomfortable to be alone with me. He knew how his cousins had been punished when they were at home, so he was under no illusion that given a chance I would carry out the threat.
Close the door lad. I am here to see you, we have a lot to discuss, and your mother has left us to it. We need a man to man talk. Now where do we start lad? Yes you can put that ball down over there, and stand here.
I was used to being assertive, and my tone got an instant response from the lad. I eyed him up and down for a moment, making him feel like a little boy before launching into my tirade.
Right lad where do we start? I know we shall begin with you wanking in here and watching porn on the telly. That will do for kick off. Your mother brought her friends home to be greeted by the site of her son playing with himself, and you found it amusing. Think how mortified she will be next week when she has to go to her class and face those ladies. Do you think that will be funny for her? Then we turn to the way you have been treating your mum recently. Dirty laundry strewn across the bedroom floor, turning up for meals as and when you feel like, generally treating the place like a hotel, and your mum as your personal slave. Well it is going to stop do you hear me Shane? You have been behaving like a lout and I know how to deal with louts.
And what’s it got to do with you?
I stood up and in shock slapped him across the face. He reeled back for a moment, then came towards me, fist raised ready to punch me. In an instant I had him pinned down, his arm up his back.
Listen here young man, from now on you will do as you are told. You have treated your mum with contempt for the last time. Now you are going to find out what happens to brats who think they are grown up. You are not too old to get your arse tanned, and that is what I intend to do. Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, but whichever way you choose I am not leaving here until I have given you the sore arse you have been asking for-for years.
I held him in position for a few moments longer ensuring he knew who was in charge before I let him up.
You can’t do this Uncle John, I am not a little kid, and I am not your son.
Well you have behaved like a little kid, so you can expect to be treated like one. Stand by the chair, drop those shorts down, and then bend over the back of it.
Shane glared at me for a moment, defying me to do my worst.
Well lad here is the deal. You have a choice to make and let’s hope for your sake it’s the right one. You can either bend over and take a long overdue hiding from me, or we go upstairs and pack your bags. Your mother has had enough.
Jean had not said anything about this, but I had used the threat on my own lads when they got older and it had always worked. One mention of being thrown out on the streets soon had them dropping their pants, and it was no different with my nephew. Shane stood facing the chair back for a few moments, contemplating his fate, then with great reluctance he edged his football shorts down off his arse and down his thighs, leaving them hanging mid-thigh. I began to unbuckle my leather belt, pulling it clear through the loops. I intended to warm his backside up with the belt before taking the cane to his arse to finish the job.
Over the chair back, and grip the arms. Keep hold and don’t get up or try to cover yourself or it will be worse for you.
Once he was in position I took a firm grip on his ’under armour’ jockey shorts and pulled them down to land on top of his shorts. This caused the lad to panic and plead for them to go back in place. I curtly told him he deserved a bare arse thrashing for his behaviour, and to keep quiet. I looked at the naked cheeks before me. Pale, lily white, virgin mounds, never before had they felt the kiss of leather or rattan against them. That was about to be ratified, and my nephew would soon learn what a sore backside felt like.
I doubled the belt in two, and tapped it against his bottom a few times before raising my arm to shoulder height, and letting it fly to land with a resounding and noisy splatt across the expectant cheeks. The lad winced and let out a loud wail as the first swathe of red appeared across his tail. This was his first ever taste of corporal punishment and it had taken him by surprise. I raised my arm again and lashed down for the second time, landing it lower. This produced an audible grunt, and a second layer of red was imprinted across his previously unblemished bottom. Having set the mark I began to lash the belt above and below the first strokes until his entire bottom was a deep shade of red from the top of his thighs to the crown of his rump.
Ten leather strokes left Shane crying like a little boy, his bare rump, blazing like a furnace, and for the first time in his eighteen years he realised what getting a good hiding from a man felt like.
I threw down my belt and unwrapped the cane from the bag.
Right lad, six with the cane now to ensure you never forget what happens to naughty boys who misbehave, and then cry when they get their bottoms smacked.
Shane pleaded for mercy as I lined the rod up across his red-raw cheeks. I was used to this which was something my own lads often did. Getting the cane over a red hot, leathered backside was one of the worst punishments I inflicted on them. I knew how effective it was, and felt it was something that my nephew should benefit from too. Selecting my spot near the base of his buttocks I raised the cane, and cracked it down. The response was immediate, he screamed, his hands flying round to protect his bottom from further arse torture.
Move them away now or I shall crack the cane across your knuckles lad, and I mean it.
My threat was taken seriously, he quickly put his hands back on the chair arms, leaving his reddened bottom clear for further arse pain. I watched the first stripe swell across his cheeks before preparing for the second cut. I swiped number two higher up the smouldering cheeks, and got a similar reaction to the first stroke, though this time his hands stayed firmly on the chair arms. Slowly I delivered the remaining four strokes between the first two, ensuring I kept them all close in a two inch band on the lower portion of his backside. Each cut produced a squeal, his buttocks quivering as they absorbed the punishment. Number six hit the sit spot and his hands once again flew round to grasp the ravaged flesh.
I stood back for a moment, observing the red, weal corrugated buttocks. Satisfied the job was well done I put down the cane, picked up my belt and began to re-thread it.
You can get up now Shane.
Very slowly he pulled himself up from the chair, his hands reaching back to gently grasp his stinging arse cheeks. His face was red, and tear streaked. He kicked off his football shorts and his trunks before turning round to face me. I caught an eyeful of his flaccid cock, hanging low from his pubic bush. He had no thoughts to cover his manhood as his hands were far too busy trying to comfort his backside.
Have you learned your lesson young man?
Tearfully he nodded his head.
Pick up your shorts and go to your room. If your mother contacts me again to say you are still behaving like this I will be back. Next time it will be worse; much worse. Do you understand?
Still snivelling he nodded at me, then reached down and retrieved his clothing before hobbling from the room, his one hand pressed against his burning behind, while in the other he was carrying his football shorts and pants. My last sight was of him a rear view image of my handiwork. I was certain he would not be coming back for more, well not anytime soon.
When Jean returned I told her what had happened. She was shocked that her son had accepted his whacking so readily. I never mentioned the ultimatum I had given him. I left shortly after ensuring I had the cane firmly wrapped up again. Jean promised to ring me if Shane got out of line again. It may have been his first tanning, but I felt sure that once the fire in his arse had died out, and the bruises faded he would start to forget tonight, then I would be called on again to give him another tanning. Boys have short memories, but I don’t, and next time, well I would do my utmost to keep my promise. Shane’s backside now belonged to me and I intended to make these sessions a regular occurence.
Story ©MMXI by Baddlad17, and used here by very kind permission of the author.
D I S C L A I M E R
All characters and businesses appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Baddlad17’s excellent earlier stories for The Canery are available here. Further great stories by Baddlad17 may be found at this external link.