The Bucket List (M/M) NEW!

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A brand spanking new story by hot guest author JOELSTRAP.  This story is exclusive to The Canery!  All the characters are 18 or over. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!

The Bucket List by Joelstrap

“Worst I ever got,” said Brian, “was six on my gym-shorts for calling the games-master a bloody slave-driver. He wasn’t meant to hear, of course, but the bastard must have had ears like a bat. He wasn’t best pleased. Slave-driver, am I? says he with a nasty smile. Right. You’ll come back at the end of the day and do a run up to the lake and back through the woods; and when you return, I’ll give you six of the cane. But if you take more than forty minutes to complete the run, I’ll make it twelve with the cane. Well, I ran my guts out to get back in under forty minutes and managed it with barely a minute to spare. I’m standing there, hands on my knees, lathered in sweat and panting like hell. Good, Greening, says he. By the look of you the threat of a dozen with my cane drove you very hard indeed, didn’t it, boy? I had to admit it was true, because no way did I want twelve of his fucking cane across my arse. Bastard didn’t even let me get my breath back before he told me to bend over and lashed six of his best into my behind. Boy, did he make sure I felt them!”

“I once got four on the bare for skiving a couple of lessons so I could get tickets for a pop-concert before they sold out,” vouchsafed Liam.

“Yeh? I thought they weren’t supposed to do that,” said Jimmy.

“The deputy-head was allowed to at my school,” explained Liam. “The guys said he liked it and if you were quite good-looking or had a neat arse, he’d always cane you bare if you were sent to him for punishment; but if you had a face like the back of a bus or didn’t have a cute bum, he’d just beat you over your trousers.”

“Must have been true then,” said Ali, “since he caned you on the bare; and you’ve got a hell of a cute arse.”

Liam flushed.

“Well, just keep your hands off it, or I’ll set my girlfriend on you,” threatened Liam.

“Be scared; be very scared,” interjected Brian. “I’ve seen his girlfriend playing hockey and she’s vicious. You don’t want her hockey-stick mucking around with your balls.”

Ali instinctively crossed his legs.

“What was the worst you got, Ali?” enquired Liam.

“You know I went to school in Scotland, so I never got caned. I just got the belt. Strip of dense, hard leather, slit into two thongs along about half its length and used on your hands. Stings like hell and makes your palms blaze. I got six a few times over the years but the worst was actually a time I only got four. It was the Easter hols and Seelongs, our French master, had taken a group of us to Paris for a week. We went across on the ferry and then got a train; and when we reached the Gare du Nord he strides off and says to me, Bring my suitcase, Ransome. So there was me, swearing at him under my breath, and trying to carry out my own case plus his great big one. Anyway, I get off the train and lay my own case down and then reach in to get his, and it’s pretty hefty and I stumble back a bit, trip over my case and his falls to the ground. Ransome, he yells furiously, how dare you treat my possessions like that, boy? I’m trying to explain that it was an accident when he suddenly whips out his belt from where it’s hidden over his shoulder under his jacket and orders me to hold out my hands. I can’t believe that he’s gonna leather me there on the station-platform in front of everybody; but he is. Like I said, I only got four; but they were screamers and had me jumping and hugging my hands against my body; but even worse was the fact that all these people stopped to look. The bugger made my palms bright red; but I think my face was even redder.”

“Shit, that sounds horrendous,” said Liam. “Why’d you call him Seelongs?”

“That’s what it sounded like when he said Silence in French; and he always seemed to be saying it,” explained Ali.

“You’re keeping pretty silent, Matt,” said Jimmy.

Matt looked uncomfortable.

“They didn’t use the cane much at the school I went to,” he confessed. “I saw a few guys get it over the years; but I never got caned. To be honest, most of us didn’t.”

“Do you think you missed anything, Matt, after hearing our stories?” asked Brian.

“Course not. Who’d want to be caned?” retorted Matt, going slightly red.

“You got the kind of cute arse that Liam’s deputy-head would probably have caned bare,” said Ali.

Matt flushed.

“You’ve got arses on the brain, Ali,” accused Liam.

Ali shrugged.

“I know what I like,” he said.

“Well, I’ve warned you to keep off……..” began Liam.

“Yeh, yeh, I get the message. I’ll leave your precious bum alone and concentrate on Matt’s instead,” declared Ali.

“Keep your back to the wall, Matt,” advised Brian, as Matt blushed even more furiously.

The conversation slid off into other channels and later in the evening, after a few beers had been necked and fish-suppers consumed, they began to talk about bucket-lists. Various outlandish suggestions were put forward about things the boys thought they would like to do before they died; and then Liam suggested they each make a list of six things they’d like to try to do before the summer was over. They agreed the wishes had to be things which there was, at least in theory, a reasonable chance of accomplishing. Paper was found and silence fell as they pondered and then wrote down their ideas. Once the task was completed, each boy read out his list.

Getting laid featured in a number of lists; but there were also various other aspirations like flying in a plane; dining in a posh restaurant; riding in an open-top sports-car; visiting a lighthouse; going down a coal-mine. Matt was the last to read his list out; and was a little hesitant about it.

“Maybe I’ll just keep it to myself,” he said shyly. “It’s a bit personal.”

“It’s supposed to be bloody personal,” objected Jimmy. “It’s the things you personally are gonna try and do by September.”

“I know that! I just don’t think I want everybody to know,” said Matt.

“So how we gonna know if you managed to do all your list, if we don’t know what’s on it?” asked Brian.

“Come on,” urged Ali. “We’re not gonna laugh at you.”

“Oh, okay,” agreed Matt reluctantly. “1. Find a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend?” queried Liam. “Not a girlfriend?”

“A boyfriend,” said Matt firmly.

“I never knew that…..” began Brian; but Ali interrupted him.

“What’s number two, Matt?” he asked, giving Brian a fierce glare.

“Get a rabbit,” replied Matt.

“A rabbit?” repeated Liam and Jimmy simultaneously.

“I always wanted a rabbit when I was a kid; but my parents wouldn’t let me,” explained Matt. “No 3,” he went on swiftly before anyone could say anything else, “drive a tractor.”

“Oh, yeh. I wouldn’t mind doing that,” enthused Ali. “What’s next?”

“Slide down a helter-skelter,” said Matt. “I’ve never done that but it looks great.”

Only Brian had done such a thing and he confirmed that it was an exciting experience.

“Do a streak,” said Matt, folding up his sheet of paper.

“A streak?” queried Liam.

“Yeh; you know; run naked through a public place,” explained Matt.

“Like down the High Street on a Saturday afternoon?”

“No,” retorted Matt; “but maybe down the High Street at midnight.”

“Why?” asked Brian.

“Why not?” retorted Matt.

“That’s only five,” objected Liam. “You should have one more.”

“Yeh, well, that’s enough,” said Matt, his ears glowing red.

Jimmy suddenly lunged forward and snatched the paper from Matt’s hand. Matt leapt to retrieve it, but Jimmy bounded across the room.

“That’s mine,” said Matt quietly. “Give it back, Jimmy.”

“In a minute. Number 6,” he read out, “Get a caning.”

There was a stunned silence. Matt went scarlet and looked at the floor.

“It’s okay,” said Ali. “We all know what corporal punishment feels like; and it’s natural you want to know too. I hope you manage to get yourself caned; and that you’ll tell us about it if you do.”

“Thanks,” said Matt softly.

“Give him back his list, Jimmy,” said Ali. “And if I had a cane, your arse would be as red as a post-box by now.”

Jimmy glanced round at the others but detected no sign of support and so he handed back the paper to Matt.

“Sorry, mate,” he said, “I was out of order.”

“It’s okay,” replied Matt. “It wasn’t just the conversation earlier. I’ve always sort of wondered about it. From what you lot were saying, it hurts like hell; but I’ve just got this feeling that I need to find out for myself.”

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Ali asked Matt if he’d like to go for a run with him the next morning and the two lads spent an enjoyable couple of hours pounding along the beach and then through the woods, up a hill and back down into the town again. They showered at the gym and then went into the cafe for refuelling.

“I kind of wondered if you might be gay,” said Ali. “It was brave of you to come out like that last night though.”

“I wanted to for a while,” Matt admitted, “and it suddenly seemed like a good chance to just do it. I wish I was as confident and open about it as you are,” he added.

Ali shrugged and remarked that everyone was different.

“Coming out about wanting to be caned was even tougher,” said Ali.

“Yeh! I wish Jimmy hadn’t done that; but maybe deep down I wanted you all to know, because I put it on the list and I knew we were gonna read our lists out.”

“Jimmy’s a crass oaf,” said Ali.

“You really sounded like you would have caned him if you could yesterday,” said Matt with a grin.

“Fucking right I would,” declared Ali vehemently. “He shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that.”

Matt looked at him curiously.

“What?” demanded Ali.

“Yesterday you said I had a cute arse; and you got all defensive on my behalf; and you’re still a bit worked up about it today; and you’ve invited me out to run with you, which you’ve never done before in the six months I’ve known you,” said Matt.

“So? I like you.”

Matt flushed.

“I like you too,” he said shyly. “You got a great arse too; and gorgeous ears.”

“Ears?”

“Yeh; just perfect the way they peep out from under your hair.”

“Er…right,” said Ali, somewhat at a loss for words.

 

Ali and Matt grew closer as the summer advanced and by the end of July Ali had achieved all the things on his list; but Matt still had three to go.

“Do a streak; find a boyfriend; get caned,” said Matt. “That’s half my list still to do.”

Ali kept to himself the pang of disappointment which he felt when he heard that Matt didn’t seem to think he’d found a boyfriend. He knew that Matt was rather reserved and so simply resolved to try harder to advance their relationship in the hope that by summer’s end Matt might realise that he’d actually achieved that particular aspiration after all.

“How’d you like to come home with me for the last week in September, before the new Uni term begins, Matt?” Ali asked. “You should be finished your summer-job by then and so will I. We could have a little holiday to ourselves without having to spend much money. My mum’s a pretty good cook,” he added.

“Yeh? You sure? I’d love that, Ali. If your mum and dad don’t mind.”

“Course they won’t mind; but I’ll give them a call and check. It’s still six weeks away yet anyway.”

Later in the week, Ali reported that his mum would be delighted to have Matt for the week when Ali returned home.
Ali was delighted; and continued to plan. He had high hopes that by the end of a week when they spent all the time together, Matt would recognise that he had a boyfriend; and he also had an idea of where they could do a public streak to fulfil the penultimate of Matt’s bucket-list. The caning was more of a problem, but he wondered if Matt might accept a light beating from him with a garden-cane and consider that as fulfilling the requirements.

*********************************

“So, Matt, this business of wanting to do a streak,” began Ali as the pair lay on loungers in the evening-sun in the garden of Ali’s parents’ rural abode. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeh? Tell me,” said Matt eagerly.

“Well, I guess you don’t want it just to be running in our birthday-suits down the village-street at two in the morning when there’s no-one about,” said Ali.

“Oh, yeh! It needs to have a bit of danger to sort of spice it up,” replied Matt.

“Right; well how about on Thursday evening about ten o’clock when the weekly whist-drive is coming out? They meet in a room at the local pub; mainly ancient crones. We can time it to zip past while they’re leaving and give them a thrill; and we’d be too fast for them to recognise us – or catch us.”

“Great!” said Matt enthusiastically. “I’m up for it!”

Thursday evening saw the two boys behind a large tree at the entrance to a footpath, just opposite the pub. They’d stripped in the bushes a few metres along the path and were now waiting for the women to emerge from the building opposite. Matt nudged Ali as he saw the first two or three ladies emerge; and they waited until several more had come out and had begun to slowly amble up the street. The boys glanced at each other and then sped out of the path-entrance and on to the road, turning swiftly to streak past the emerging ladies. There were gasps; there were shrieks; there were shocked stares; but before anyone could fully register what she had seen, Matt and Ali had rounded the corner and dashed into the empty playground of the local school where they went to ground behind a high wall, panting and laughing at their success.

“Did you see the face of that fat one when she clocked our junk?” asked Ali.

“Yeh; probably the biggest thrill she’s had since her husband lost his pyjama-bottoms,” giggled Matt.

They continued to trade comments on the women’s reactions and then decided that it was time to make their way back to where they’d left their clothes. At the back of the playground, a gate led to a path which linked up with the one at whose entrance they’d begun their streak. They were about to stand up when they heard voices.

“Young hooligans like that should be whipped,” declared one female angrily.

“And have their bits chopped off,” said another. “They came out of that path opposite the pub. I wonder if they went through the playground to get to the path that would take them back there? Let’s go and have a look.”

Ali peeped round the corner of the wall.

“Shit! This pair’s not so ancient and they look like they could run a bit. We best get outta here fast,” he declared.

The pair darted across the playground towards the gate leading to the path; and were spotted by the two women.

“There they go!” shouted one of them and suddenly took off in pursuit.

Ali and Matt sprinted for the gate and then Matt yelped in shock: “There’s a woman coming towards the gate from the other side!”

Instinctively the boys wheeled about and charged headlong round the back of the school-building, to be faced with a stone wall, blocking their way.

“We gotta go over,” urged Ali. “Jump!”

The two leapt high and scrabbled with their hands at the top of the wall, desperation giving them strength to haul themselves up even as an irate female voice shouted, “That’s them!”

She actually caught Matt’s ankle as he threw himself over the top of the wall; and the two landed painfully on the well-kept lawn of the schoolhouse garden on the other side.

“Fuck! That was close,” panted Matt. “But I think we’ve escaped.”

“Er…what about him?” enquired Ali; and Matt turned to see a large Labrador gazing curiously at them.

“Nice doggie,” said Matt tentatively.

“Grrrrrr!” replied the Labrador menacingly.

“Oh, hell!” gasped Ali. “I don’t feel very happy about those big teeth being so near my naked junk.”

“Come on, boy,” wheedled Matt.

He extended his hand and the dog sniffed it suspiciously.

“See? We’re harmless,” Matt informed it.

“Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!” declared the dog very loudly; and then repeated himself several times, increasing the volume when the boys tried to edge past him.

Matt and Ali glanced at each other but before they could do anything else a man came round the corner of the house and then stopped and stared at them.

“And what exactly do you pair think you are doing?” he demanded angrily.

“Well, er….that is….we, er……” began Ali.

“A couple of ladies rang my bell and told me that there were two naked young men in my back-garden,” said the man. “And it seems they were right. Ran past the pub just as they were coming out from the whist-drive, they said. I take it that would be you?”

“Er, well, yeh,” said Ali, covering his tackle with his hands and going bright red in the face.

“You’d better come in,” said the man.

“It’s okay,” replied Matt. “We don’t want to bother you. If you’d just hold the dog, we’ll………”

“You’d better come in,” repeated the man.

“I don’t think it’s an invitation,” hissed Ali. “We gotta go in.”

The man led them into a comfortable sitting-room and sat down. He looked at the two highly-embarrassed youngsters standing before him.

“I’m George Black, the headmaster of this school,” he informed them. “Names?”

Ali glanced at Matt who shrugged. Ali told him their names.

“Your parents live here, don’t they?” he asked Ali.

“Yeh; but please don’t tell them what we’ve been doing. It was a dare; to run naked down the village-street; and we did it; but we shouldn’t have.”

“We didn’t mean any harm,” put in Matt.

“You don’t think subjecting elderly ladies to the sight of two naked young men running past them was harmless?”

“They might have enjoyed it,” suggested Matt recklessly.

“What my friend means,” interjected Ali quickly, giving Matt a furious glare, “is that we never meant to upset anyone; and if we did, we’re really very sorry.”

“Are you indeed? Behaviour like this is completely unacceptable, but fortunately we have here the means to deal with it. Stay!”

He rose and went out of the room.

“You’d think we were fucking dogs,” objected Matt. “What do you think he meant?”

Ali shook his head, but before he could say anything, George Black returned, carrying a cane. He showed it to the boys and then whipped it viciously through the air so that it whined menacingly. Both Matt and Ali winced.

“Now here I have a cane,” said Black superfluously, “which is the ideal thing for dealing with young hellions who don’t know how to behave in a civilised manner. A cane, however, requires something on which to work if standards of conduct are going to be improved. Fortunately, you two miscreants have provided just what is required: two bottoms, bared and ready for the punitive rod.”

“No!” gasped Ali.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean,” Ali amended hastily, “please don’t beat us! I know we were stupid, but it was just a joke.”

“Of course I could just ring up your parents……….”

“No!”

“No?”

“Please, no!”

“You’d rather be caned?”

“Yes,” said Matt loudly before Ali could reply.

“Good, there’s no more to be said then. You, Alistair, bend over with your hands on that chair.”

Ali threw a despairing look at Black and then obeyed. Matt watched closely, trying in vain to conceal his towering erection behind his hands. Black rapped his cane several times on Ali’s bottom and then suddenly swept it back and drove it in ferociously hard. A sharp snap echoed across the room as rod met boy-flesh at high speed. Ali clenched his glutes and blinked rapidly several times. Matt observed a red line emerging from his mate’s skin. The cane was wielded twice more with explosive power, each stroke landing just a short way below the previous one. A gasp of pain escaped Ali at the third cut. Matt slid a hand between his legs and pressed firmly on his perineum.

“Feeling that, boy?” enquired Black.

“Yes, sir.”

“Learning not to run about naked in public?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll never do it again.”

“It appears that the message has reached your brain,” observed Black. “But I now need to ensure that it lodges there. Keep still.”

As Matt watched, simultaneously horrified and fascinated, Black wielded his cane a fourth time and drove it in brutally hard on the sensitive skin where Ali’s lower buttocks merged into tops of his legs. Ali yelped and squirmed, clenching desperately as the fiery burn roasted his flesh.

“Touch your bottom,” Black informed him softly, “and I’ll repeat the stroke. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ali tightened his grip on the sides of the chair and steadied himself. Black gave him a few seconds to anticipate and to fear, and then he hit him hard a little lower, the lithe cane lashing savagely on tender flesh and delivering a searing blast of pain. From Ali, a violent clenching of his buttocks and a half-stifled squeal; and from the watching Matt, a sharp intake of breath and an urgent pressing of his perineum as he fought to stave off the incipient eruption from his balls.

Ali braced himself for a diagonal lash of the cane, but instead got another stroke which landed almost on top of the throbbing welt raised by the fifth hit. Pain exploded like a volcano in Ali’s rump. An agonised squeal was forced from him as he writhed, hot tears trickling down his face, panting with the effort to maintain position and resist the insistent call of his tortured flesh for some soothing caresses.

“Think the message is lodged in your brain now?” enquired Black.

“Yes, sir,” gasped Ali brokenly. “Definitely, sir.”

“All right. Up you get and go and stand over there. You, Matthew, bend over the chair.”

The boys exchanged rueful glances as they passed each other. Ali stood with his hands, fingers splayed, feeling the blazing heat in his bottom. Matt positioned himself to feel, for the first time in his life, the fiery blast of a retributive cane. Black didn’t rush things. He flexed his cane a few times and then showed it to Matt before slashing it twice through the air, making Matt flinch. He ran the limber rod over the boy’s behind slowly, savouring the nervous quiver in the lad’s legs; and then, before Matt was expecting it, he lashed the cane hard across the centre of his buttocks. Matt yelped and bucked, clenching his gluteal-muscles hard, as he learned what a powerfully-wielded cane could do to him.

Swiftly adjusting his expectations, Matt stiffened his resolve, steadied himself, breathed deeply, and awaited the next stroke. Aware now of the level of pain to expect, he processed the sting of the next three much better, flinching hard and crunching his glutes, but maintaining a determined silence. As he settled after the fourth stroke, he knew that Black was approaching the sensitive area of flesh at the lower edge of his bottom; and he remembered vividly how Ali had reacted to the cane hitting him there. Matt tried to prepare himself for the agony to come, his young body taut, his knuckles white as he gripped the chair.

Black whipped the cane viciously hard across the boy’s crease and a blazing streak of flaming fire seared his skin, forcing a squeal from him and driving him to scrub desperately at the tortured flesh.

“Do you remember what I told Alistair about rubbing while being beaten?” enquired Black.

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did I tell him?”

“That if he did it, he’d get the stroke repeated.”

“Repeat stroke coming up,” declared Black.

Matt swore ferociously to himself, gritted his teeth and tried to hold his tense body motionless. A few seconds elapsed and then the cane lashed again into the tender flesh of Matt’s crease, forcing a desperate yelp from him as he writhed in torment; but his hands did not leave the chair.

A sheen of sweat glistened on Matt’s skin and he stood, shuddering with pain, panting as he fought to master his body’s urge to jump up and run. The cruel cane was probing once more at that part of the boy’s behind where his upper legs began. He forced himself to steady the persistent tremor in his lower body and awaited the sixth stroke. It came at a slight angle, deliberately cross-hatching the welts raised on his skin by the two previous cuts, and Matt uttered a snarling yell. He bucked violently, squirmed – and then failed to prevent his right hand from flying back to scrub urgently at the fire-blasted flesh.

“Well, boy?” asked Black.

“I….I couldn’t help it, sir,” answered Matt.

“Then you’d better learn to help it, hadn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happens now, boy?”

“I get the sixth stroke again,” replied Matt reluctantly.

“Indeed you do. Keep still.”

Matt struggled to resist a pang of despair and told himself fiercely to stop being a baby and take the pain. Black made him wait; but that gave Matt a chance to get himself in hand. Resolve stiffened and he locked his knees and pushed his bottom out. He wasn’t going to let Black see his fear. Black admired the youngster’s resolution, but also made up his mind to challenge it. He lined up the rod with the sensitive flesh along Matt’s crease and then whipped his lithe cane in as hard as he could. Once more Matt bucked and squealed, his lower body dipping to the floor for a few seconds; but his hands remained clamped firmly to the edge of the chair. Panting with pain and effort, he nonetheless felt, rising like a tide within him, a soaring sense of achievement. He’d taken eight brutally-hard strokes with a vicious cane on his bare bottom; and he’d survived.

Ali stared in amazement at his pal. He was embarrassed to find himself powerfully aroused at the sight of Matt’s exquisite bottom being so savagely beaten; and he wondered at the boy’s stoicism as he processed and absorbed the excruciating sting of eight mercilessly-delivered cuts. Ali knew only too well how much it hurt; and he’d only had to endure six.

Both boys were ordered to stand, hands on head, side by side, while Black delivered a lengthy lecture on the standards of behaviour expected of young males in the community. Once the lecture was over, Black asked where their clothes were and then told them that he’d go and fetch them.

“You will remain standing there until I return,” he informed them. “You will keep your hands on your head. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Once he’d left the house the pair exchanged comments about what they’d experienced. Within seconds, two eager young penises were reaching for the ceiling; but neither boy removed his hands from his head.

“He’s probably gonna ask when he gets back, if we moved,” said Matt, “and I want to be able to honestly say we didn’t.”

Black did indeed ask just that; and got a quiet but firm assurance that they had remained in position as he’d instructed. He told them to get dressed and then dismissed them. They walked slowly back to Ali’s house, painfully aware of the pulsing heat in their beaten bottoms. Retiring to Ali’s room, they stripped and massaged cold cream tenderly into each other’s welt-scored skin. After that, it seemed only natural to relieve the pent-up feelings in their randy bodies, and soon two pairs of balls were sending copious quantities of boy-spunk to spatter chests and faces.

“So that’s your bucket-list complete, Matt,” said Ali.

“Yeh?”

“You’ve done a streak; got yourself caned……”

“…not half!” interposed Matt.

“…and got yourself a boyfriend,” ended Ali.

“Boyfriend?”

“Me,” said Ali firmly. “And if you argue about it, I’ll get one of my trainers, turn you over my lap, and spank the living fuck out of you until you accept it.”

Matt gazed adoringly at Ali.

“Okay. I’ve got a boyfriend. You’re hell of a sexy when you’re dominant like that, Ali.”

“And you just drive me crazy for you,” said Ali. “Are you glad that you didn’t get the cane at school, now you know what it feels like, Matt?”

“N..n…no, not really. It wouldn’t have been as brutal as that at school and I think it might have been kind of exciting,” Matt confessed.

“You want to go back to old Black and ask him to cane your bare arse again, Matt?”

“Er, no. Eight scorchers on the bare from him will do me. But,” he added shyly, “if you were serious about spanking me, I think I might enjoy that.”

“You want me to spank you?”

“Well, not right now,” admitted Matt, caressing his cane-marked bottom carefully. “But one day soon when you’re feeling dominant.”

“I feel dominant most of the time,” said Ali.

“So if I add a seventh item to my bucket-list: get spanked hard; you think I’ll be able to cross it off before the week’s out, Ali?”

“I guarantee,” Ali assured him earnestly, “that you’ll be able to cross it off your list before tomorrow is out, Matt. I’ll be able to cross off the seventh item on my bucket-list by then too.”

“Yeh? What’s that then?” asked Matt.

“Spank Matt’s bare arse fucking hard,” replied Ali.

Each boy duly added the seventh item to his list; and the following evening, while Matt stood rubbing his soundly-spanked bottom, his penis stretching desperately for the ceiling, Ali scored item seven from his own list.

“Go on, Matt,” he said, handing him his list and a pencil, “score off your seventh one. You’ve done it.”

Matt duly crossed out the hope to get spanked hard.

“I guess it’s okay to do things on your bucket-list more than once,” he said, glancing at Ali.

“I bloody well hope so,” Ali assured him, “because I’m gonna be doing my number seven lots and lots of times.”

Matt scrubbed at his burning behind and grinned.

“That’s good,” he said, “’cos I want to do my number seven lots and lots of times too.”

And he did.

 

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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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Story ©MMXXIII by Joelstrap, used here by very kind permission.

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Joelstrap’s excellent earlier stories for The Canery are available here.  Further great stories by Joelstrap may be found at this external link.