♥ Site recommended story ♥
It’s high time for another brand spanking new story by very special guest author JOELSTRAP. This story is exclusive to The Canery! All the characters are 18 or over. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!
Where’s Reece? by Joelstrap
Jordan and I were sitting in deckchairs in his front-garden, chatting in a desultory manner while lapping up the sun. A perspiring Reece came running towards us along the road, clad in a thin vest and close-fitting shorts.
“Fuck! He’s hot!” I remarked to Jordan. “And I don’t mean his temperature.”
Jordan grinned. “And you’ve got the hots for him huh, Bran?”
“Well, yeh; but I don’t know if he’s interested in me. Shit, but those running-shorts are hot too!”
“And your breath’s coming in hot pants, eh Bran?”
“Hey! Reece! Come here a minute,” shouted Jordan. “Bran’s getting all hot and bothered at the sight of you.”
“You bastard!” I snarled furiously at Jordan. “Why the hell did you say that?”
“Because it’s true,” retorted Jordan, smiling unrepentantly. “He’s coming over.”
Reece slowed to a trot, pushed open the gate and came into the garden. He stood, hands on hips, partly bent over, breathing hard. In the centre of his vest was a dark patch of sweat and rivulets of perspiration trickled down his face and neck.
“Boy, it’s hot for running,” he admitted. “You couldn’t find me a cold lager, could you, Jordan?”
“No trouble,” replied Jordan, getting up and heading for the house.
Reece plonked himself down on the grass at my feet and looked up into my face.
“Was that right, what Jordan said; about you being all hot and bothered at the sight of me?” he enquired shyly.
“Jordan should keep his bloody trap shut,” I said.
“So it wasn’t true?”
“I didn’t say that,” I replied.
“Well, was it or wasn’t it?” demanded Reece with a touch of asperity.
I felt myself going red in the face and Reece grinned.
“You definitely look hot,” he opined.
“Okay, okay, I said to Jordan that you were red-hot in these tight shorts; but he’d no business shouting to you; and why would you be interested in me anyway? It was just a throw-away comment. Just forget it.”
“Like hell I will! You meant it, didn’t you, Bran? You think I’m hot?”
“Yes; but you don’t have to……..”
“I think you’re pretty hot too, Bran,” interrupted Reece.
“Mmmm! So we agree that we’re both hot stuff. That’s a good start. How about you meet me down the pub tonight and we have a couple of beers and get to know each other a bit better?”
Jordan returned carrying three cans of chilled lager and handed them out before sitting down and demanding, “So, fixed up a date yet, guys?”
“Yes,” I said smugly.
Jordan stared at me.
“When?” he asked.
“Tonight, in the pub.”
Reece nodded confirmation and Jordan shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“One minute you’re furious with me for telling Reece you think he’s sizzling-hot; and the next you’ve made a date to get into his pants!”
“You’ve got bloody pants on the brain,” I objected. “Who said anything about pants? We’re meeting for a drink and a chance to talk.”
“And if Bran tries to get into my pants in the pub, I’ll punch him in the goolies,” warned Reece.
“No way was I ever even thinking about getting into your pants in public,” I protested.
“Maybe after a couple of beers, behind the bushes in the park?” suggested Jordan mischievously.
Reece and I glanced at each other and then simultaneously each grabbed a leg of Jordan’s deckchair and tipped him on to the grass.
“Sodding bastards!” yelled Jordan. “Half my lager’s away, you rotters!”
“I don’t think he’s pleased,” observed Reece.
“No, he’s not,” I agreed. “A bit hot under the collar I’d say.”
Reece and I got on very well and began seeing each other regularly. He was studying chemistry and loved running. Monday and Wednesday evenings he trained with a running-club; and most Saturdays he went off on a competitive run somewhere. I was studying history and got my exercise at the gym and playing football for the college team. We met several evenings a week and at the weekends fulfilled Jordan’s prediction of getting into each other’s pants to our mutual delight and pleasure.
The weeks turned into months and we moved out of halls and into a small flat together and were deeply happy.
Over a year had passed and on an autumn Monday evening, I happened to be near the sports-centre as the first of the runners were returning from their ten-mile run. I decided to wait for Reece, but the tail-enders came in and there was no sign of him. I went into the building.
“Where’s Reece?” I asked; but no-one knew.
When I got back to the flat, Reece was already there and I asked where he’d been.
“Oh, I didn’t feel right; maybe something I ate,” he said, “so I gave the run a miss.”
It was three weeks later on an October evening that I was sitting in the local pub with Jordan who remained a good friend. Jordan was straight as they come and played the field tirelessly among the girls at college; but we respected each other’s sexuality. I always felt that I owed Jordan something for getting me and Reece together, even if I’d resented the way he did it the previous year.
My mobile rang and I was listening to Nigel. “Where’s Reece?” he enquired “Is he with you?”
“Nah. It’s Monday. He’ll be at the running-club,” I told him.
“Oh! That’s probably why he’s not answering his phone. Look, Reece was at my room in hall earlier to get some lecture-notes he wanted and when we came out my phone rang and so Reece locked the door; and he must have pocketed the key without thinking, because I haven’t got it and I need to get into my room.”
“Right! Me and Jordan are at the pub, but we’ll pop up to the sports-centre now and see if Reece has got the key in his jeans. He’ll be out on a run, but the guys there know me, so they’ll let me look in his things. If it’s there, we’ll get it to you as soon as we can.”
“Thanks, mate. You’re a pal.”
At the running-club’s changing-rooms, Gordie looked blankly at me.
“But Reece isn’t here,” he said. “He still comes on Wednesdays and does the competitions on Saturdays; but I’ve not seen him on a Monday for weeks.”
“Oh! I guess I got mixed up,” I said. “Thanks anyway.”
We walked in silence down the road back towards the pub. I was aware that Jordan was giving me frequent sideways glances; and eventually he asked tentatively, “So what do you make of that, Bran?”
“I dunno. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t go tonight.”
“What about the other nights?”
“How should I know?” I replied irritably.
“Did he not tell you he wasn’t running on a Monday evening any more?”
“No,” I said.
We entered the bar, Jordan ordered pints, and we sat down.
Jordan raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, okay! I don’t know what to think. He goes out as usual every Monday evening with his sports-kit; and I don’t know where the hell he goes. Satisfied?”
“No, I’m not satisfied; and neither are you. So where’s Reece on a Monday evening? What do you think’s going on, Bran?”
“Look, it’s none of your fucking business,” I riposted angrily.
“You’re my friend,” said Jordan.
I took a long swallow from my glass.
“Yeh. Sorry. It’s not your fault. Do you….do you think he’s maybe seeing somebody else, Jordan?” I asked, voicing my fears uneasily.
“Any reason to think he is? Are you still getting on well?”
“We’re fine, honest. Blissfully happy. Really, Jordan, there’s no reason he’d go off with another guy. Anyway, even if he did fall out of love with me, I honestly think he’d just tell me and be open about it. It’s how Reece is.”
Jordan nodded. “Yeh. I agree. So there must be another explanation. You’ll just have to ask him.”
“Yeh,” I replied, not meeting Jordan’s eyes. “I guess I should.”
“And what about Nigel’s key?” asked Jordan.
“Oh, shit! I forgot that. I’ll try Reece’s mobile. Maybe he’ll have it switched on by now. He should be on his way home from…….wherever he is……shortly.”
Reece answered and I told him about the key; and after a moment when he was obviously rummaging in his pockets, he confirmed that he did indeed have it and would ring Nigel to say he was on his way with it at once.
“That’s that sorted anyway,” said Jordan.
“Yeh. I think I’ll get off home now,” I said, draining my glass. “See you.”
I argued with myself all the way home and by the time I reached the flat, I’d decided that I didn’t want to let Reece know what I’d accidentally discovered. Instead, I made up my mind to follow him the next Monday and see where he went.
It felt like a long week, but at last Monday came round again and Reece picked up his kit-bag and set off. I followed like a shadow, helped by the fact that it was dark and I could dodge from street-light to street-light and doorway to doorway and so avoid being seen should he look back. Not that he did. Nor did he make for the sports-centre, but headed to a rather posh part of town and then into a narrow mews which formed a cul-de-sac running behind a row of large, detached houses. Here the former stables-buildings for the mansions had been converted into small cottages and as I watched from behind a convenient tree, Reece rang the bell of one of these and was admitted. Unfortunately I couldn’t see who answered the door and as nothing was said, I couldn’t even tell the sex of the person who let him in. I made my way along the mews and gazed at a couple of dark windows at the front of the house. Going on a little, I found a narrow alley leading down the far side of the cottage, presumably giving access to the courtyard at the back. It was almost pitch dark as no light from the street-lamps penetrated down here. I made my way cautiously forward and came to a high wooden gate barring the way. Turning the handle carefully, I found that it was locked.
I hesitated and then decided that since I’d come this far, I had to see if I could find out more. I jumped up, grabbed the top of the gate and then hauled myself up with a considerable effort until I was perched on top. The courtyard into which I was looking was in near darkness, but there was a little light which I assumed came from a rear window. They had to be in there! I half slid and half jumped down and suddenly there was an offended screech and a cat shot out from under my feet. I had a feeling that I might have landed on its tail. Next moment all hell broke loose when a huge dog set up an almighty barking as it came pelting round the corner and danced excitedly around my feet.
I tried to kick it away, but it tripped me and I landed heavily. For a moment I saw in the gloom a large mouth and lots of teeth; and then it was licking my face enthusiastically. Even as I struggled to push it away and get up, a light came on and a young guy appeared and looked down at me.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded irately. “And for that matter what are you doing here? This is private property.”
“I….er…..oh, shit!…..I can’t explain…….” I stammered before grinding to a halt.
The young man strode forward, yanked me up by the collar and hauled me towards an open French Window beyond which was a brightly-lit room. He shoved me through the doors and as I regained my balance, I gave a gasp of astonishment. In front of me, stark-naked and bent over a chair, was Reece. He turned his head to see what was happening and I heard him take in breath sharply as a tide of red swept from his neck up over his face.
“Oh, fuck!” he swore viciously.
I was still stunned because I had also noticed that not only was a nude Reece standing bent over a chair; but on his bottom were four neat, parallel cane-welts.
“What the……?” I began; and then the young guy shoved me into an armchair and demanded that I explain my presence.
“Why is my boyfriend here?” I asked quietly.
That shook him. He glanced at Reece and then back at me. “Your boyfriend?” he repeated. “Reece? Stand up and come here, hands on your head.”
I stared in disbelief as Reece obeyed and stood before the young man. I noticed that he was semi-erect.
“Is this your boyfriend, Reece?” he enquired, nodding at me; and Reece said, “Yes, sir,” very softly.
“I see. I also see that I may be able to work out why you’re here,” he said to me, “but I’d rather you told me yourself.”
I told him my name and explained exactly what had happened; how I’d found that Reece was no longer where he should have been on Monday evenings; and how I’d trailed him tonight and then caused something of a commotion in the courtyard.
“You thought I was cheating on you?” asked Reece, looking outraged.
“You went off as if you were going running, but you weren’t; and you didn’t tell me what was going on,” I accused. “What was I supposed to think?”
“Right,” said the young man. “I’m Barry, but Reece calls me ‘sir’, and you can do the same, Bran. Understand?”
There was a natural authority about him and I instinctively responded, “Yes, sir.”
“Now listen, Bran. Reece is not cheating on you. I dish out spankings, including use of the cane, strap, paddle, belt and a few other things, to young guys who feel they need some discipline or who just find it exciting. Reece has been coming to me for the past five Monday evenings for spanking. As no doubt you observed, I’m in the middle of caning him, so before we go any further I’m going to finish that. Get back in position, Reece.”
“But, sir,” pleaded Reece urgently, “you can’t in front of Bran. Please!”
“Are you permitted to argue with me, Reece?” asked Barry quietly; and Reece looked at his feet and muttered “no, sir.”
“That will be two extra strokes for disobedience,” said Barry. “Position, Reece!”
For a moment I saw a hunted look flash across Reece’s face and I wondered if he was going to make a run for it; but then he turned and bent over the chair once more. Barry picked up a nasty-looking cane from the sofa, gave a practice-swing, which made an intimidating whine and caused Reece to flinch; and then hit my boy hard twice at a slight angle across the four welts already showing on his skin. Reece gasped audibly and clenched him bottom fiercely as he fought the sting. My penis, swollen and throbbing desperately, tried to force its way out of my denims.
“Two more for disobedience,” said Barry and I saw Reece tense himself in readiness. The cane lashed hard across his lower bottom and the sting forced a yelp from him as he twisted from the hips. Barely had he steadied himself than Barry wielded the cane again, now full on Reece’s crease, making him writhe and scrub at his skin with his right hand while a squeal was driven from him.
“You never argue with me, boy. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” responded Reece submissively.
“Stand up, hands behind you, and hold your tongue.”
Reece obeyed, and then Barry addressed me.
“Bend over, Bran,” he commanded, arching his lithe cane menacingly.
“Me? You think you’re gonna cane me?”
“There’s no ‘think’ about it. I am going to cane you. You’ve climbed over a locked gate into my courtyard in the dark, presumably to break into my house and…….”
“Break into your…………no fucking way! I told you why I’m here. I’m not a flaming burglar and you know it!”
“Do you think the police will see it that way when I call them?”
“Behaviour like yours needs to be punished, Bran. I’m sure you can work out the choice you have. So, what’s it to be? Police or cane?”
I eyed the limber cane anxiously, remembering what it had done to Reece. I considered how my activities might well appear to an officer of the law, were Barry to summon one. Curiously, I also considered the question of why Reece was volunteering for the cane; and a small part of me wondered if there was something here that I needed to experience for myself. All the same, I really didn’t want my behind to get the sort of treatment Reece’s had received.
“Neither,” I declared with more conviction in my voice than in my head. “I’m leaving now and you can call the police if you want to; but no way are you going to use that vicious cane on my arse.”
I made for the French-window, turned the handle and then jumped as there was a resounding crash and the dog outside set up a horrendous barking. Barry strode across, flung open the door and switched on the outside-lights; to reveal Jordan simultaneously trying to fight off the over-affectionate mutt while struggling to pick himself up from a mass of broken flowerpots.
“Jordan!” I gasped.
“You know this young hooligan?” enquired Barry with a slight smile on his face.
“Hooligan? Don’t you call me a hooligan,” protested Jordan, succeeding in getting to his feet.
“He’s a friend of mine,” I told Barry.
“Where’s Reece?” asked Jordan.
“Is he a friend of yours too, Reece?” enquired Barry, stepping to one side so that Jordan could see Reece standing there.
“Yes,” admitted Reece softly.
“You seem to have some very badly-behaved friends,” observed Barry. “Two potential burglars in one evening and you know them both. I think that your bottom and my cane are going to need to become a lot more familiar before you go home tonight, my lad.”
“What? No!” I objected angrily. “You can’t beat him again! He didn’t know I’d be here; and I didn’t know Jordan would be here. Why are you here anyway?” I asked Jordan.
“I know you. I could tell you weren’t going to do the sensible thing and just ask Reece what he was up to on a Monday evening. I guessed you’d try to follow him and find out where he was going; and so I followed you. I saw you come round the back here, heard the dog and realised you’d been caught. But then nothing seemed to happen and I got worried, so I came over the gate to see what was going on.”
“There’s a very simple and ubiquitous invention,” remarked Barry conversationally, “called a doorbell.”
Jordan and I rolled our eyes.
“Reece comes here to get spanked and caned because it excites him and he likes it,” continued Barry. “Bran has arrived in highly-suspicious circumstances which I think the local constabulary might view as trespass with a view to breaking-and-entering. I’ve offered him the choice of being reported or of a caning but he seemed to want neither and was about to leave when you arrived so dramatically. Another event which might be viewed by agents of the law as very suspicious; and which has included vandalism, witness my broken flowerpots.”
“Witness your bro…….for fuck’s sake! That was an accident; and I’ll pay for new ones,” said Jordan.
“So I now have two young guys whose behaviour merits a good dose of my cane across their bare bottoms.”
“Bare bottoms?” I queried. “Bare bottoms? You really think we’re gonna let you beat our bare arses with that bloody cane?”
“The arrival of Jordan on the scene and Reece’s admission that he knows both of you, has however led me to think that maybe he is the real culprit here and has told his nefarious mates (that’s you pair of trespassers) that this might be a good house to burgle, being in a quiet mews. It was just unfortunate from your point of view that he happened to be here on the evening you chose to break in.”
“Reece never told us any such thing, you bastard,” shouted Jordan angrily, losing it completely.
“It’s just chance you tried to break into a house he knows about?”
“We didn’t try to break in,” yelled Jordan. “Aren’t you listening? I think you’re assaulting Reece and keeping him here against his will; and I’m gonna be reporting you, mate!”
“Am I assaulting you and doing anything to you or with you against your will, Reece?” asked Barry.
“No,” replied Reece softly.
“Oh,” said Jordan.
“So if you two would now like to leave, preferably via the front-door, I can get on with giving Reece here a good, hard caning to punish him for encouraging his criminally-inclined mates to break into houses; and to persuade him to find some more respectable friends,” said Barry.
“I already told you,” I intervened, “that Reece knew nothing about us coming here. It’s not his fault. You’re not touching him with that cane again. Come on, Reece, we’re going home.”
“No,” said Reece quietly. “If Barry says I’ve to be beaten again, then I’ll stay and take it.”
“But you didn’t tell us to come and break in here!” I shouted in exasperation. “He’s making it all up! No way do you deserve another thrashing!”
Reece said nothing. I turned to Barry.
“Please,” I said, “don’t cane him any more.”
“I’ll let him off any more of the cane if he’s really innocent,” said Barry thoughtfully, “but that must mean that you and Jordan did indeed come here off your own bat, allegedly unaware even of what the other was doing…..”
“Allegedly my arsehole!” shouted Jordan. “We didn’t bloody well know!”
“….illicitly entering a private courtyard with the probable intent of house-breaking. If each of you is prepared to bare his bottom and take a hard dose of the cane, then there will be no need to punish Reece. There is of course still the option of summoning an officer of the law, to ask him to consider trespass, suspicious behaviour and vandalism,” continued Barry calmly.
Jordan and I glanced at each other and moved away into a corner of the room together where we had a hasty, whispered conversation.
“That sadistic bugger is gonna lash Reece with his cane again; and Reece isn’t gonna resist. I don’t understand what he’s up to, but I don’t want him beaten again tonight.”
“I don’t think he’s gonna get the police,” said Jordan, “and anyway we can just walk out and there’s no evidence we were ever here. That hairy mutt out there could have knocked over the flowerpots. But if we do that Reece is gonna get it.”
“So we gotta take it instead?” I asked.
“Looks like it. You up for it, Bran?”
“Yeh. It’s funny, but there’s a little bit of me’s kinda curious about how it feels to be caned.”
“Me too. After all, Reece is a level-headed kind of guy. He must be getting something out of it.”
“You seen the stripes on his arse?” I asked.
“Yeh, I know; but there must be something else.”
“Okay, we’re agreed. We’ll take it.”
We returned and faced Barry.
“We don’t want Reece to be caned for something he didn’t do,” I said, “so we’ll take the cane instead.”
Barry inclined his head in acceptance of our decision and placed another chair beside the one over which Reece had been bent.
“Okay, boys, bend over,” he ordered.
He said nothing about dropping jeans or pants and I decided to keep quiet and just do as he said. I felt nervously vulnerable, but my penis was registering some unexpected excitement; and I observed that Jordan seemed to have some swelling in the front of his denims; while the naked Reece was almost fully-erect. The first stroke stung but was rather exciting; and the next few raised the intensity of the sting without spoiling my arousal. After six, Barry turned to give Jordan the same treatment, while I wondered at the way my body was reacting. Caning, it appeared, wasn’t as horrendous as I’d expected.
Barry came back to me and told me to drop my jeans and pants, which I did quite willingly. He stroked my behind with the cane – and then hit me hard. Pain seared like a lash across my globes and I uttered a squeal and clenched my buttocks desperately. My brain, lulled into a foolish confidence by the first six strokes on my jeans, was urgently racing to catch up with reality; while my body fought to keep still and show that I wasn’t a kid. The cane bit deep again and I writhed from the hips, grasping the edges of the chair with white-knuckled ferocity as I rode the vicious burn. Two more followed in swift succession, low on my bottom, etching blazing streaks of fire on my skin and forcing half-stifled yelps and gasps from me. A fifth stroke along the tender flesh where my behind merged into my upper legs detonated a savage blast of agony which had me rising and scrubbing urgently at my skin with both hands. I could feel hot tears trickling down my face; and my cock had gone into complete retreat.
“Get back in position, Bran!” ordered Barry; and I took a deep breath before slowly obeying.
The sixth stroke came immediately and forced yet another yelp from me as I twisted my lower body and scrunched my glutes. A few seconds later I heard Barry ordering Jordan to bare his behind and turned my head a little to watch. Barry hit hard and accurately, vivid crimson welts rising on Jordan’s beaten flesh; but he remained in position and silent throughout. What astounded me most of all was that after he’d had all six, he was fully aroused.
We were told to pull up our clothes again and then we stood, freshly beaten, and waiting in front of Barry.
“What did you learn from that, Bran?” he asked.
“That you’re a brute with that cane,” I retorted.
“And not to go trespassing on other people’s property,” I admitted a little sulkily.
“You learnt that too, Jordan?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Jordan. “Next time, I’ll ring the front door-bell.”
“Next time?” I burst out, startled.
“Well, yeh. I think I sort of get why Reece is here; and I think…..I’m not absolutely sure yet……..but I think I might come back. If you’ll let me?” he asked, looking at Barry.
“When a boy asks me as politely as that to beat him, I can hardly refuse,” replied Barry with a grin. “But you don’t want any more to do with the cane, eh Bran?”
But I did. I really and truly did. It was embarrassing, but I forced myself to say it.
“I want to learn how to use it,” I said quickly. “I never knew that Reece was into getting his arse tanned; and he never said, or asked me to thrash him. But now I know he wants it, I think I could really enjoy giving it to him.”
There were several long seconds of silence into which I muttered, my face burning, “I guess you all think I’m a sadistic pervert.”
“Not at all,” said Barry. “I love to dish it out. Why shouldn’t you?”
“It’s just that I was thinking; since it looks like Reece is into getting his arse tanned, maybe you could show me how to do it? I’ve a feeling things are gonna be a little bit different in our relationship from now on.”
“Sure. It’d be a pleasure to help you thrash him so he really feels it. Come on! Let me see what you can do with a cane. Bend over again, Reece.”
Reece obeyed in silence.
“Hold it like this; stand a bit forward of his arse; aim for the near buttock, because the cane will naturally go further across when you use it; keep your eye on the target until you’ve actually hit him. Like this.”
Barry took up position, touched the cane to Reece’s bottom, and then delivered a firm stroke which made the boy wince silently.
“You hit me a lot harder than that,” I remarked.
“Yeh; but you were being punished. Now we’re just letting you get a feel for the cane as a giver. Here; take it and remember what I said.”
“You okay for some more, Reece?” I asked.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Barry.
“I just thought he might think he’s had enough,” I said.
“Who’s caring? It doesn’t matter what he thinks. If you say he’s getting more, he gets more. End of story. You’re in charge, Bran. Always.”
I took up my position, tapped the rod on Reece’s behind a few times to get the range right; and then delivered a fairly hard stroke on the lower half of his bottom. He flinched and I heard him draw in breath sharply. My penis surged.
“Oh, yeh! You’re a natural,” enthused Barry. “Nicely given and beautifully aimed. Now, let me see if you can give him another a little lower. Don’t try to hit too hard. Just concentrate on aiming accurately.”
I focussed determinedly on the area of skin about a centimetre below my first stroke and then brought the cane down firmly, giving my wrist a little flick to see if I could add a bit of zing to the sting. Reece gasped aloud and clenched his buttocks and I watched in fascination as a neat red line emerged from his skin a short distance below my first one. Beneath him, I observed that his resilient penis was rising steadily.
“Oh, boy! Brilliant, Bran! He felt that. And that little flick at the end just gave the stroke an extra bite. You’ll need to get yourself a cane. Here! I’ll show you where to order one,” he said, picking up his laptop.
After that, Reece was allowed to get up and dress and we all sat down to coffee and cake with Barry.
The three of us walked back together until we reached our flat, and then Jordan went on alone to his own place. In our living-room, Reece placed a hand on my chest and looked into my eyes.
“Are you angry with me, Bran? The only reason I didn’t tell you what I was up to was because I thought you’d think I was weird. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’d never do that.”
“Yeh, I know; and I probably would have thought you were weird; but you had me worried.”
“I’m sorry, Bran.”
“It’s maybe worked out for the best,” I told him, “because I found out that dishing out a thrashing is very exciting; and since you like to get your arse tanned, we’ve got another thing to enjoy together.”
“You’re gonna spank me, Bran?”
“Yeh; I am.”
“You’re not really gonna get a cane though?”
“I am so. It sounds like Jordan will be going back to Barry to get himself beaten; but you won’t need to go back; because you’ll get all you want from me. And that means the cane as well as a hand-spanking or a dose of my belt.”
I saw a spasm of pain flit across Reece’s face and glancing down I observed that his cock had risen swiftly and was causing him considerable discomfort as it tried to force its way out of his pants.
“Like that idea, don’t you, Reece?”
“You’re fucking hot when you talk all dominant like that,” Reece admitted.
“Yeh? Well get yourself stripped!”
“Because I’m gonna take you to bed, spank you hard and then fuck you through the mattress.”
Reece gasped as his cock protested again; and headed for the bedroom, pulling off clothes as he went. My mobile rang.
“Hi, Bran. It’s Nick. I need some help with a chemistry assignment. Where’s Reece?”
“Reece,” I informed him, “is in our bedroom, naked as the day he was born, waiting for me to come and spank him.”
There was total silence on the phone for several seconds and then, as Nick began to speak, I ended the call. I went through and put Reece across my knee and spanked his bare bottom long and hard, making all his cane-welts glow and blaze with fresh heat, until suddenly I was aware that he was thrusting harder and faster against my thigh until he exploded in a fountain of cum.
“Hmm,” I said as I eyed the globules of his boy-cream spattered far across the duvet, “not bad. But you’ll fire your load even further than that when I cane you.”
A few days later, once my new cane had arrived, he did!
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.
Story ©MMXXII by Joelstrap, used here by very kind permission.
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