♥ Site recommended story ♥
Hot and explicit caning fiction by very special guest author Joelstrap, repeated from 2017. All the characters are aged 18 or older. Adults Only!
The Bright Red Briefs
Jordan looked down at the bright red briefs and at once asked himself why they were there. The walk along the cliff-tops had brought him to several rocky bays, some of which he’d gazed into from above before moving on; and some had been sufficiently interesting-looking to entice him down steep paths on to the shore. He’d made the perilous descent to this one because it was almost one o’clock and he’d spied a good place to sit and eat his picnic-lunch. Approaching the rock which was just at the correct height to allow him to sit comfortably with his feet on the ground, he’d looked round at the bay. Behind him the cliffs rose steeply while in front, beyond a jumble of rocks, the sea heaved gently under an azure summer sky. To his right and left more rocks were scattered haphazardly around, as if dropped there by some giant who’d become fed up carrying them.
It was while engaged in this survey of the bay that he spotted the incongruous splash of brilliant red among the greys and blacks and browns of the rocky landscape. Unable to enjoy his meal until he’d found out what it was, he got to his feet and walked over to where the jarring, out-of-place colour, blazed at the foot of a tall, steep rock. There was a small patch of grass at the base of the rock and against that background the red appeared more violent than ever. Jordan bent down to look closely although he didn’t touch. There was no doubt about it, however. What lay there was a pair of bright red briefs. Probably belonging to a young man or late-teenage boy, he thought. They looked decidedly brief too and Jordan suspected that they would barely contain the tackle of even a moderately well-endowed youth.
His first thought was that perhaps the owner of the briefs was in the immediate vicinity, but there was nobody in sight. This was a remote bay and it had taken Jordan over an hour’s walk to reach it. Had the briefs been washed there by the sea? But there was no sign that the tide came up anywhere near the base of the rock; certainly not in summer. It may of course be that they’d blown there in the wind, although the calm weather of the past week or so seemed to make this unlikely; and they looked clean and fresh as if they’d not lain there for long.
A pang of fear struck him as he considered the possibility that some young guy had removed them to bathe naked in the sea and had come to grief. In such serene summer seas it seemed improbable, but it had to be considered possible. Jordan returned to his rock, sat down and proceeded to consume his picnic. Once he had finished, he leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. The sun was warm on his face and he felt comfortable and relaxed. The only sounds were the soft lapping of the wavelets against the rocks at the sea’s edge and the intermittent cries of the sea-birds as they soared and swooped among the cliffs.
“Not while that bastard’s there!”
Jordan blinked. He realised that he’d been dozing and his first thought was that he was hearing the gulls calling to each other; and then fuller wakefulness reminded him that gulls don’t speak. He shook his head and looked cautiously around him. In spite of the little bay being apparently bereft of any human life but his own, Jordan realised that there had to be at least two other people about. He listened carefully but heard no more words. He stood up and walked over a stretch of sand and then climbed up on to a rocky slab, a folded table of rock formed in long-lost oceans and exposed here after millions of years of erosion. Even from this vantage-point, he could see no-one.
He walked across the rock-surface towards its edge and it was when he looked down from here that he saw, sitting with their backs to the rock on which he stood, a pair of young lads of maybe eighteen summers. One wore dark blue briefs. The other was naked. Their two heads were very close together, thick hair mingling, as they talked softly, making it impossible to hear what they were saying. The comment which he’d heard must have been spoken loudly in urgency, perhaps as one dissuaded the other from going to retrieve the briefs.
Jordan was feeling mischievous. A respectable businessman in his early forties he may have been, but he retained still a boyish enthusiasm for pranks. He slipped quietly back to where his rucksack lay by the rock where he’d lunched, took out a cup, filled it with cold water from his bottle, and padded over to the top of the rock where he could look down on the two boys. They were still sitting, deeply engrossed in conversation; and Jordan also noticed that they were holding hands.
Aha! So that’s the way the wind blows, he thought to himself with a smile.
He watched them silently for a few moments and then gently tipped the cold water down on the bare shoulders beneath him. There were a couple of offended bellows of shock and Jordan stepped swiftly back from the edge so that the boys saw nothing of him as they turned outraged faces upwards. In seconds he was back sitting demurely on his rock; waiting. There was absolute silence. Out of both his sight and his hearing, the boys were conversing in urgent whispers.
“Of course it wasn’t a bloody cloudburst. There isn’t a cloud in the sky!” protested Matt. “Somebody tipped water on us; and it’s gotta be that bugger who we saw sitting on the rock near your briefs.”
“But why’d he tip water on us?” demanded Phil. “What’ve we done to him?”
“I’d like to tip him in the bloody sea,” muttered Matt vengefully.
Phil laid a restraining hand on his arm.
“Okay, okay. I’m not going to,” Matt said.
For a couple of minutes they waited; and nothing happened.
“Do you think he’s gone?” asked Phil hopefully. “Maybe I could go and get my briefs back.”
“How should I know?” replied Matt unhelpfully.
Phil sighed.
“I’m gonna have a peek,” he announced and he stood slowly up and pushed his head carefully over the edge of the rock.
Matt joined him. Jordan watched as two pairs of eyes surveyed him as he sat calmly on his rock. He decided to leave the next move to them, so he simply looked back steadily at them. That seemed to unnerve them, as they glanced uncertainly at each other before one of them spoke.
“Was that you?” asked Matt.
“Was what me?” replied Jordan.
“Somebody threw water over us.”
“Somebody called me a bastard,” said Jordan.
Looks of consternation crossed both the faces opposite him.
“Er, sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that,” said Matt.
“We don’t really think you’re a bastard,” added Phil. “We just didn’t expect anyone else to be here and I got a shock when I saw you there when I was going to come and get my briefs.”
“I see,” said Jordan. “But if it’s not too personal a question, why are you over there and your briefs over here?”
“That was him,” said Phil, glaring at his mate.
Jordan looked interrogatively at Matt, but that boy returned his look with an enigmatic smile.
“So you’ve been fucking each other inside out behind the rocks, eh?” asked Jordan brutally.
There was a shocked silence while the boys looked at each other and then back at Jordan.
“No!” they said in unison.
“You were having a deep, philosophical discussion about the meaning of existence?”
Matt snorted.
“No,” he said with a grin. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you. We were spanking each other.”
Jordan was taken aback.
“Spanking?”
“Yeh; you know. I put Phil here over my knee and smacked his bottom hard. He liked it,” added Matt.
“And I spanked him,” supplied Phil. “He liked it too.”
“Got you hard, did it?”
“Oh, yeh! We were both solid as these rocks here. Then Matt said he wanted to spank me on my bare arse.”
“And he pretended to be all shy,” said Matt.
“I wasn’t pretending!”
“So I just ripped the briefs off him,” continued Matt.
“And when I tried to snatch them back, the bugger tossed them away over there,” explained Phil. “Then he spanked me bare. I liked that too,” he added thoughtfully.
“I see,” said Jordan, nodding in comprehension. “I like to have things explained; and I’ll admit that the briefs lying there by the rock were a bit of a mystery.”
“So……um……could I have them back, please?” asked Phil tentatively.
“Come and get them.”
Phil went as red as his missing briefs.
“But I’m…you know….bare,” he objected.
“So? I’m a guy. You’re a couple of guys. I’m sure you’ve got nothing I’ve not seen before, have you?”
“No, no, of course not,” replied Phil, still blushing.
“You should see the size of his balls,” interposed Matt unexpectedly. “Kinda balls a bullock would be proud of.”
Phil went crimson.
“Matt!”
“Well, you have,” Matt insisted. “You got nothing to be embarrassed about. So get up there and get your bloody briefs back or I’ll spank you again.”
Phil stared helplessly. Jordan laughed.
“I think,” he suggested, “that threatening to spank him again is going to make him less likely to come and retrieve his briefs. He looks to me like a boy who can’t wait to be spanked again.”
Matt surveyed his friend for a few seconds.
“Just go and get them, Phil,” he said.
For a moment Phil stood in an agony of indecision; and then he made up his mind. In one fluid motion he vaulted on to the top of the rock and strode purposefully across to where his red briefs lay. Jordan watched delightedly. The boy was beautifully proportioned, lithe and muscular, becoming a man but still with the slenderness of youth. He was sporting a massive boner above a pair of large balls, nestling in a thick fuzz of dark hair. He picked up his briefs and pulled them on swiftly. They just about held him, although much of his towering erection protruded well above the waistband of the close-fitting garment. Matt emerged from behind the rock to join him and the two youngsters stood side by side and looked uncertainly at Jordan.
He fished some biscuits out of his rucksack and offered them to the boys who accepted eagerly.
“Sit down and tell me about this spanking business,” he said firmly; and the boys obeyed, seating themselves cross-legged on the patch of sand at his feet.
“It was just an idea we had,” said Matt through a mouthful of biscuit. “We thought it might be exciting to spank each other. And it was,” he confessed.
“And we were gonna fuck each other after,” admitted Phil. “But I thought I’d best get my briefs back first and then I saw you and….well, you know the rest.”
“We like fucking,” supplied Matt, “and we thought spanking would make it even better. I think it would have too….if you hadn’t appeared,” he added resentfully.
“I’m sorry,” said Jordan. “I’ll go away and let you get on with it.”
“Hey, no!” protested Matt. “I didn’t mean that. It’s okay. We can fuck any time we want. I wasn’t meaning to be rude.”
“Okay, no offence taken,” replied Jordan with a grin. “But calling me a bastard; that’s a more serious offence.”
The boys glanced at each other.
“It was nothing personal,” urged Phil. “Honest; and you’re definitely not a bastard. I mean, you’re talking to us like we’re normal even though we spank each other.”
“Nothing odd about wanting to be spanked,” said Jordan. “I think you both need to be soundly spanked for calling me a bastard.”
This statement produced sudden consternation on the part of the boys and two pairs of eyes flashed a series of messages at each other. Eventually Matt spoke.
“You wanna spank us?” he enquired carefully.
“I think a sound spanking is called for, don’t you?”
Again the silent communion of eyes before Matt turned to Jordan again.
“Yes, sir,” he said softly. “We behaved badly and we should be spanked.”
“But,” began Phil.
“Yes?”
“Can we fuck after you’ve spanked us, please?”
“Of course.”
“You can watch if you like,” offered Matt generously. “We wouldn’t mind.”
“I might take you up on that,” said Jordan. “However, to more serious matters. When I said that you both deserved a spanking, I was using the word in its widest sense.”
Phil, who had been sitting with his eyes on his feet, suddenly looked up; and as he did so, the slightly-sagging erection in his briefs bounced up to full length again.
“You mean you wanna take your belt to us?” he asked.
“Well, you get the idea,” agreed Jordan. “I wasn’t just speaking about a hand-spanking. I meant something that would make more impression on a pair of big, healthy young bucks like you two. How old are you anyway?”
“Eighteen,” supplied Matt. “So………um……..if it’s not your belt….what were you thinking of tanning our hides with? Your trainer?”
Jordan shook his head.
“No. I’m going to cane you.”
Two surprised faces gazed silently at him for several seconds before Matt spoke.
“C…..cane us? With a cane?”
“That’s the idea.”
“But you haven’t got a cane!”
“What makes you think that?”
“But….but……you can’t have! Nobody goes wandering around the countryside with a bloody cane in his rucksack!” protested Matt.
“I do.”
Matt was about to speak again when Phil laid a hand on his knee and he remained silent.
“I’ve never even seen a school-cane,” said Phil. “Corporal punishment was abolished yonks ago. My dad says he got caned when he was at school though,” he added. “But he’s ancient; well over forty.”
“Thank you,” said Jordan sardonically.
“Eh? Oh, no! I didn’t mean…..you’re not over forty, are you?” gasped an embarrassed-looking Phil.
“Forty-three,” said Jordan.
“I didn’t really mean ancient,” Phil burst in again. “I mean it’s just another word for old, and I……”
As Jordan raised his eyebrows, Matt turned to his friend.
“Phil, shut up,” he ordered. “When you’re in a hole, at least stop digging.”
“Sorry,” muttered Phil.
“Why have you got a cane with you?” asked Matt.
“I like dishing out canings to guys. When I’m on holiday, like I am just now, I can go on to a contacts website and if there’s someone locally who wants his bottom dealt with, I can volunteer my services. It’s surprising how often I get to cane a guy; and so I always have my cane with me, just in case.”
“Can I see it?” asked Matt eagerly.
Jordan registered the boy’s shining eyes and straining erection; and then he reached for his rucksack, unzipped a compartment and slowly withdrew a limber cane with a crook-handle.
“Wow!” breathed two fascinated boys in unison.
Jordan handed the implement to Matt who accepted it as gingerly as if he’d been given an adder to hold. He arched it experimentally, savouring its pliancy. He ran the pad of a finger along the length of it and then looked up at Jordan.
“This isn’t a toy,” he said. “This is gonna hurt, right?”
Jordan nodded.
“Oh, yes. It will hurt; a lot. It’s meant to. No point in punishing you for calling me a bastard if you don’t feel it, is there?”
“I guess not,” Matt agreed, still bending the cane carefully as he tried to assess its potential for causing him pain.
“And you’ll cane us properly?” enquired Phil, suddenly rejoining the conversation. “Six of the best, like in the old school-stories?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I dunno,” admitted Phil honestly, “but I implied you were ancient as well, so I reckon I deserve to be properly punished. I’ll take what you think I need,” he added.
“Same here,” concurred Matt. “We’re both up for a caning. I’ve always kinda wondered what it felt like to get the cane; and sometimes when I was writing lines, I wished I could just have bent over and got a few strokes; and it’d all be over and done in a few seconds. Painful seconds,” he added as an afterthought.
Phil took the slender cane from his mate and examined it critically.
“It’s quite thick and heavy,” he observed.
“It’s called a senior-cane,” said Jordan. “Suitable for older boys.”
“That’s us,” Phil said. “So, you gonna cane us now?”
“Right now, if you’re ready,” agreed Jordan and he got to his feet and took back the cane.
He whipped it hard through the air with a vicious whine and both boys drew in breath sharply. Two pairs of eyes were fixed on the punitive rod; and two penises were reaching for the sun-filled sky.
“I think this should do,” said Jordan, indicating a large rock at almost waist-height. “You first, Phil. Briefs off and bend over the rock.”
There was a stunned silence before Phil eventually muttered, “Br…..briefs off?”
“Boys of eighteen get caned on the bare,” said Jordan. “Get them off!”
Phil obeyed, laying his briefs on the edge of the rock, and then bending over it with his hands supporting his upper body.
“Legs further apart.”
Phil complied; and Jordan admired the taut, firm, muscular buttocks, neat and fully-rounded. He rapped the cane on the smooth skin which showed only a slight trace of redness from the spanking Matt had given him recently. The boy flinched involuntarily at the touch and then settled his feet firmly in the grass at the base of the rock.
“Uh!”
Phil’s breath came out in a gasp as Jordan brought the cane down hard along the centre of his buttocks. Matt’s eyes widened as he saw the red welt rise slowly from the creamy skin, showing exactly where the cane had struck. Jordan took careful aim and delivered a second stroke just a short way below the first, etching another neat red mark on the youngster’s bottom. His buttocks clenched hard and quivered for a few seconds as he processed the fierce sting. The cane lashed across his seat for a third time and elicited a grunt from Phil as a line of fire scored a further throbbing welt across the lad’s behind. The fourth stroke caught the boy full on his crease and he uttered a half-stifled yelp as his right leg kicked violently before a sturdy foot was returned determinedly to its place in the grass. Aiming at the narrow gap between the third and fourth weals on the youngster’s skin, Jordan hit his target accurately, creating one broad, pulsating welt. Phil’s head came up abruptly and a groan escaped him before his head went down again and his shuddering buttocks eased slowly into stillness. He forced himself to relax a little as he waited for the final stroke. Jordan brought the cane down hard on a diagonal which cross-cut four of the previous marks on Phil’s flesh. He let out a strangulated squeal and writhed from the hips, his body dipping towards the surface of the rock as he absorbed and assimilated the ferocious pain.
“Well-taken, Phil. Get up.”
Phil rose slowly to his feet and felt his way wonderingly with both hands over his throbbing globes. Ridged flesh was under his finger-pads; hot skin was beneath his palms. Jordan watched him closely and, even as he rubbed at his caned bottom, his resilient young penis was rising again eagerly. The boy glanced down at it and gave an embarrassed laugh.
“I guess I kinda liked that,” he admitted, “but it stung like hell!”
“Good,” said Jordan, grinning at him. “It was meant to.”
Matt was standing to one side, a hand inside his briefs, cupping his balls while his thumb stroked his rampant cock.
“Ready, Matt?” enquired Jordan.
“Okay,” replied Matt with only the barest hint of a tremor in his voice.
He arguably had the tougher place in that he’d seen his mate get the cane and knew what to expect. He swallowed, pulled off his briefs and cast them aside, and took up his position over the rock. Jordan eyed the delectable target with pleasure, aware of the pulsing organ in the front of his own jeans. Matt was slightly broader than Phil and a faint covering of light-coloured hair showed on the surface of his globes as the sun caught them. The boy’s behind seemed to Jordan to be inviting the cane and, as he ran the rod along the skin to get his range, he saw the buttocks being pushed up eagerly as though he couldn’t wait to feel the punitive sting of the rod. Jordan let him have what he was asking for and Matt winced silently as he experienced the cane’s sting for the first time in his life.
He absorbed the second and third strokes with barely-audible gasps, and a powerful clenching of his gluteal muscles. Jordan felt that he had to try to force a little more reaction from the stoical lad and so he delivered the fourth stroke much harder, the tip of the cane, flying at high speed, biting viciously into the boy’s sensitive flesh just on the top edge of his crease.
“Oh, ya bastard!”
Matt reached round with his right hand and scrubbed desperately at the tortured skin.
“What did you say?” enquired Jordan softly.
“Sorry. That one just took me by surprise,” replied Matt, his voice unsteady.
“What did you say?” repeated Jordan.
Matt stopped rubbing his bottom and turned his head to look at Jordan.
“I said ya bastard,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. It just came out. I couldn’t help it.”
“You’ll have to learn to help it,” replied Jordan. “You’re getting that stroke again.”
“Aw, please!”
“Are you arguing with me, boy?”
Matt swallowed and took a deep breath.
“No, sir,” he replied submissively.
“Number four coming again. Keep still.”
To his credit, and Jordan’s admiration, Matt absorbed the searing burn of the repeat stroke, which was delivered very hard to a line immediately above the previous stroke’s mark, in almost total silence; and with only the desperate tightening of his quivering glutes betraying the agony with which he was coping.
“That’s better. You’re learning,” observed Jordan. “Two to go,” he added remorselessly. “You’re not going to give me any trouble, are you?”
“No, sir.”
The boy tensed his body as the cane explored his bottom before being raised and brought down hard and fast on his crease. A half-snarling squeal was forced from him as he squirmed and a deep-red welt was raised on tender flesh. Jordan didn’t allow him long to recover before he drove in the final cut and made the youngster buck violently. When he was told to stand up, Jordan noticed that there was evidence of a few tears on his handsome face. Matt rubbed carefully at his buttocks.
“Oh, boy! That was horrendous; but it was brilliant too. Does that make sense?” he asked.
“Sure,” replied Jordan. “You wanted it; and your cock seems to like it too.”
Matt grinned sheepishly.
“Yeh. I don’t half want Phil to bring me off now,” he confided. “Would that be okay?” he enquired respectfully, sensing that it was right to seek Jordan’s permission before proceeding.
“Go ahead,” said Jordan with a grin. “And you’d better both put on a good performance or I’ll give your young arses another dose of my cane!”
The boys required no second bidding and were soon writhing together like a couple of mating snakes, Jordan forgotten, enclosed in their own thrilling, lust-fuelled activity. Driven to new heights of ecstasy by their burning bottoms, they kissed and stroked, clasped and squeezed, thrust and pumped until boy-cream spurted and athletically-active young bodies slowly relaxed into contented stillness.
Phil tore his attention away from his mate’s kisses for a moment to turn an enquiring look on Jordan.
“Was that satisfactory, sir?” he asked, his eyes dark with sated desire.
“One of the best performances I’ve ever seen,” said Jordan, and was rewarded with a sudden rush of blood to the faces of both boys as they went bright red to the roots of their hair.
For a little longer the pair continued to lie entwined; and then they slid reluctantly apart and rather self-consciously retrieved and put on their discarded briefs.
“Thanks,” said Matt. “That cane is fucking awesome. And you sure know how to make a boy feel it,” he added with a grimace.
“No resentment about the stroke I made you take again?”
Matt shook his head.
“I deserved it. I shouldn’t have sworn like that; and I didn’t do it again, so I guess it worked,” he ended ruefully.
“Yeh, thanks a million,” said Phil. “I’ll be wanting more of that soon; we both will,” he said turning his head towards Matt.
Nothing was said, but once again Jordan caught that swift communion of eyes as the boys confirmed to each other that they were both up for further meetings with the cane.
“Are you two on holiday here as well?” asked Jordan and the boys nodded.
“We’re from Edinburgh but we’re walking through this area for a few weeks and just going where we feel like.”
“Edinburgh, eh? I think I can probably help you there. I know a guy who I think would be only too pleased to put a neat pattern of cane welts on your bottoms for you on a regular basis,” vouchsafed Jordan.
“You do? Ace!”
“I’ll check with him first and then, if he’s agreeable, I’ll give you his email address and you can contact him when you get home.”
“Thanks a million,” said Phil, “and all because Matt threw my red briefs against a rock.”
“You never know what’s going to happen in life,” observed Jordan sententiously. “Now come and tell me all about how you felt when I caned you. I love to hear a guy describing his thoughts and feelings when he was getting it. In fact,” said Jordan with a smile, “you could call it a kind of de-briefing!”
The two boys rolled their eyes and, silently agreeing that they wouldn’t sit down, lay side by side on their fronts at Jordan’s feet and, with shining, happy faces, told him exactly about their first ever experience of having their bare bottoms soundly caned.
The Canery 