♥ Site recommended story ♥
Hot caning fiction by new special guest author Clifton Castigo. All the characters are aged 18 or over. Strictly for adults only!
It was Gareth’s idea. We were all members of the Young Entrepreneurs Association – for entrepreneurs between 18-25. Some of us were still at University with a side business, and others had started their ventures after leaving school. The association selected a charity to support each year, and this year we had decided to hold a school themed disco to raise money for the good cause. We had split off into groups of five to come up with and put in practice an additional fundraising idea.
In our case our group of five lads had gone down to the pub to get inspiration.
“What about a raffle?” Said Paul
“Nah, I heard one of the other groups talking about that, maybe a tombola?” said Dan.
“Sounds more like a church fête than a disco” said Gareth, “We should do something in keeping with the school theme.”
“Maybe a kissing booth?” Said Mike.
“Who’s going to pay to kiss your ugly mug!” said Dan laughing, “Anyway, I’m pretty sure the girls will come up with something like that.
Gareth suddenly perked up and said “I know something we could do which is school themed!”
“What?” we all asked in unison.
“A sponsored caning! Think about it! It doesn’t require us buying anything other than a couple of canes and should be pretty easy to organize. Even better, once it’s over we can enjoy the disco while everyone else is busy selling their raffle tickets and manning their kissing booths.”
“Won’t it hurt though?” said Dan.
Gareth looked pensive for a moment and replied, “It can’t be that bad, they used to use it in schools, didn’t they?”
“Where shall we buy the canes?” I asked
Gareth quickly replied “on eBay”, a little too quickly. I suspected that he knew more about the subject than he was letting on, although I had to admit that the idea intrigued me.
A few searches later on a smartphone determined that it was indeed possible to purchase canes on eBay.
Dan was browsing the various options “Which one should we go for? I guess we should get the senior ones. But what’s the difference between Kooboo and Dragon?
“Go for the Dragon” said Mike, “ Sounds cooler and it’s a little more expensive so it must be better quality. Don’t want it breaking!”
“Dragon it is, I’ll order two so we have a backup.”
I then brought up the other matter of logistics, “Who’ll do the caning, I mean we can’t do it ourselves in our school uniforms, we need a teacher.”
Gareth piped up, “I have a neighbour I’m sure would help, it’s for a good cause, I used to cut the lawn for him and my brother still does. He looks the part and I think he was a schoolmaster for a time, so he probably even has experience in caning.”
Gareth, who lived five minutes away from my house, looked at me and said, “Let’s go and see him on Sunday.”
Sunday came and I joined Gareth on the doorstep of Mr Waters, his neighbour. He pushed the doorbell and I heard a barely perceptible ring from somewhere deep within the house. A short time later the door was opened by an imposing man in his 60s wearing a blazer, shirt and tie.
“Ah, my boys, come in, come in. I was just making a cup of tea. Won’t you join me?”
He led them into a living room decorated in a traditional style and subdued colours which would not have been out of place many decades ago. He served them tea and a slice of battenburg cake each and then sat down.
“What can I do for you young gentlemen?”
Gareth explained their fundraising concept.
Mr Waters smiled and said “I would be delighted to help you. I must say I think it is very admirable of you all to do this for your cause. I’ll make sure your Sponsors get their money’s worth. I still have a mortar board somewhere so I’ll look the part as well. And who knows? Maybe a little discipline will do you all good.”
We continued talking for a while and finally Mr Waters bade them a fond farewell.
A week before the event Dan sent us all a message to say that the canes had arrived. We arranged to meet up that evening at his flat (he was the only one of us with his own place) to look at the canes and for a takeaway from the Chinese and off-licence.
When we had finished eating we were sitting around enjoying a beer and Dan said “I´ll get the canes out so we can have a look.”
He left the room for a moment and returned with a long flat package printed with Fragile – do not bend. He opened the flap and produced two crook ended shiny yellow canes a little more than a metre long. He put one down and took the other by the crook end and swished it through the air. Everyone jumped at the noise when he gave a stroke of the cane to the armchair. SWISH CRACK! He gave a few more, SWISH CRACK! SWISH CRACK! Everybody looked at each other and I got the impression from their looks that they were thinking that having listened to Gareth wasn’t such a good idea.
Dan pointed to Gareth with the cane and said “It was your idea, you can try first. Bend Over!” Gareth tried to stutter a reply, but Dan was having none of it. “Bend Over!” Gareth bent over, he was wearing jeans, as we all were, and as he bent over the jeans tightened and hugged his buttocks. Dan swished through the air with the cane a few times and Gareth flinched. Then Dan tapped the cane across the centre of his bottom, drew the cane back and brought it back across Gareth’s bottom with considerable force. There was a SWISH CRACK! Similar to that from when he had being hitting the armchair before. A moment later Gareth let out an anguished AHHHH and stood up, cupping his buttocks with his hands.
“Thought it wouldn’t be that bad!” I said. Gareth looked at me and gasped, “I was wrong.”
Dan said “Well, to reach our fundraising target, we all have to take 12, so we all better have a try so we know what to expect.” He pointed the cane at me, “You next, bend over!”
I reluctantly took Gareth´s place bending over the armchair. I felt the cane tapping across the centre of my bottom as Dan aimed and then a moment later I heard the SWISH and both felt and heard the CRACK. For a moment it didn´t seem too bad but then an incredible burning sting surged across my buttocks causing me to let out an involuntary gasp much the same as Gareth had. The pain seemed to penetrate right to the bone and spread out in waves across my arse. I also stood up and like him cupped my buttocks to try and alleviate the pain. I felt a tear forming in the corner of my eye.
Dan pointed at Mike and barked “Bend Over!” What followed was a similar performance to Gareth and I. The cane cracked across his bottom, he let out a yell and then stood up nursing his sore bottom. Paul followed with an identical performance.
By this time, Gareth had recovered somewhat and took the cane from Dan and said, “Now your turn. Bend Over.”
Dan said “No Problem! I´m not like you cry babies! I´ll take it like a man!” He bent over and Gareth took some time to aim and drew back the cane, lashing it forward with all the force that he could muster. Contrary to his proclamations, Dan did not take it like a man, but instead screamed louder than any of us and jumped up and down as if trying to jump away from the pain while clasping at his ravaged bottom.
“We can’t go through with this!” gasped Dan. He pointed at Gareth, “Look at the mess you’ve gotten us into! Thought it couldn’t be that bad!”
Gareth said, “I´m sorry, I didn’t think that anything could hurt that much!”
We all stood around standing up looking at each other, still suffering in silence. Mike was the first to break the silence. “We have to go through with it! We have all of the sponsors now and it’s too late to do something else.”
Paul then had the genius idea “Why don’t we just put a magazine down our boxers to protect us. That way everyone gets their show, we get the fund raising money and nobody’s the wiser.”
We all breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was a great plan and would be easy to get away with. We continued drinking beer and played a few games of cards, albeit sitting a little more gingerly than we usually would.
When I got home I looked at the single stripe across the centre of my bum. As I thought of the cane my cock got harder and I wanked myself off thinking of the caning.
The night came, we were all dressed as schoolboys with our grey shorts, white shirts with striped ties, and school caps. At the door of the community centre where the disco was taking place we mingled with the arriving attendees and persuaded a few last minute sponsors to sign up for the good cause.
Mr Waters then arrived and we gave him the canes and installed him in a seat close to the bar with a drink. At one end of the hall there was a small stage where the DJ booth was located. We had arranged with the DJ to introduce us and he provided a cordless microphone headset for Mr Waters to use. We helped Mr Waters to put this on and told him that we would be on in ten minutes. We then all ducked into the toilets and put our magazines in place.
At the appointed time the DJ announced “Hello boys and girls!” there was a roar from the crowd. “I am sorry to tell you that we have some naughty boys here today. Don´t worry though, we have the headmaster with us to make sure that they get their dues. He is going to publically cane them. It’s all in aid of our good cause and they are sponsored for every single stroke. If they reach their target they will have raised over £400!” Another roar of approval rose from the audience.
Mr Waters and the five of us got up onto the stage where a chair was placed in the middle. Mr Waters took over from the DJ and addressed the crowd. “I have seen some disgraceful behaviour here this evening! Boys kissing girls, people imbibing the devil’s vomit – What is the world coming to?” The audience laughed at his performance. “We have to keep up the standards here in this school and I will not allow such behaviour to go unpunished!” He pointed at us with the cane, “These young rascals are the worst troublemakers of the lot. What do you think? Should I be hard on them? Or soft?” The crowd roared back, “HARD!“
“So be it.” He pointed at Gareth, “You first, Perkins.”
Gareth bent over the chair. The material of the grey shorts tightened. The outline of the magazine was clearly visible. I hoped that neither the audience nor Mr Waters would notice.
Mr Waters addressed the crowd again, “Now, I have decided to give these naughty boys twelve strokes each. I need you all to help me count”
He tapped the cane in the centre of Gareth’s bottom, drew it back and lashed it down with considerable vim. The crowd shouted “ONE!” Mr Waters frowned and looked at Gareth’s bottom. He addressed the crowd again and said, “I think we have some skulduggery at work.” He reached inside Gareth´s waistband and after a moment pulled out a copy of a men’s magazine, “What is the meaning of this boy? Not only are you trying to avoid punishment but I find you in possession of this filth!” He dangled the magazine at arms length in disdain, the crowd laughed. “Two extra strokes, and of course the first stroke doesn’t count. Let’s start again. Bend over!”
Gareth bent over again. This time the grey shorts snugly hugged his buttocks, their rounded form clearly visible through the fabric. Mr Waters commenced the caning as we all looked on in horror, contemplating our own impending doom.
SWISH CRACK! Went the cane, “ONE.” shouted the crowd.
SWISH CRACK! “TWO.”
Gareth let out an AAARGH with each stroke.
SWISH CRACK! “THREE!”
At the third stroke Gareth straightened up and started to rub his bottom. The audience laughed. Mr Waters barked at him, “Stay in position boy! If you get up again you’ll get extra strokes.”
Gareth bent over again his knuckles white gripping the sides of the chair for dear life. The caning continued and Gareth somehow made it through the fourteen strokes.
He straightened up and caressed his bottom but Mr Waters was having none of it, “Get your hands on your head boy, and get back in line.”
Next was Dan. Mr Waters again discovered a magazine with the same resulting penalty of two strokes. Each of us came forward to a similar performance, nobody escaped the detection of our subterfuge.
My turn was last, unfortunately Mr Waters was not losing any energy, indeed the enthusiasm of the crowd was appearing to encourage him to keep up the energy of his caning if not add to it.
By this time Mr Waters knew we all had magazines and asked me to produce mine before bending over.
I bent over the chair feeling the shorts mould around my buttocks. I felt the cane tapping and a moment later the first Whack. “ONE.” shouted the crowd. That burning sting zipped across both cheeks, as it was reaching its peak the second stroke came down with a new line of fire.
As the strokes continued I felt welts forming, throbbing against the tightness of the shorts.
After stroke eight, each stroke was landing on spots that had already been caned. This reawoke the pain of the original stroke and added its own new pain. I struggled to maintain position. It took all my will to stay down but I made it through to the end of the fourteen strokes. My arse was on fire. I couldn’t believe that an innocuous stick like that could produce such agony.
Mr Waters sent me back to the line with my hands on my head.
As Mr Waters was giving a final address to the crowd, praising our bravery after our initial cowardice and outlining the money earned for the good cause, I noticed that I was starting to get an erection. I looked at the crotches of my companions and noticed that Gareth and Dan were already swelling against the grey shorts.
Finally we left the stage. Mr Waters gave Gareth back the canes and said, “I’m sure you’ll continue to make good use of these.” He then winked at him and bade us all farewell.
Paul and Mike stayed at Disco but Gareth and I went back with Dan to his flat. We were all standing around drinking beer and admiring at the results of the caning. Each of us had sets of red parallel stripes across our bottoms and where the strokes had doubled up there was darker colouring in deep red and blue.
“Wow that really hurt!” said Gareth
“It did.” said Dan, “But afterwards it kind of turned me on. What about a couple of extra whacks?”
And so it came to be that on many a Friday night the canes did get good use in Dan’s flat and often provided the precursor to other forms of entertainment.
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 or businesses, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Story © MMXIX by Clifton Castigo, used here by very kind permission of the author. All rights reserved.
Comments welcome, please use the link at the top of the story.