Hot Time For A Valentine (F/M) repeated

♥ Site recommended story ♥

Erotic fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne.

“Mmmm, a dozen red roses, my favourite artisan chocolates and breakfast in bed.  My, you really have pushed the boat out, darling, haven’t you?”

He just grunted, exhausted temporarily from their lovemaking.  She kissed his stubbly face and then dabbed copious amounts of cum away from his cock with a tissue, before announcing, “Actually, I’ve bought something for you.”

“You have?” he asked, with barely disguised surprise.

“Yes, just a little something.  Something you’ve wanted for a while, and something I wanted to give you.”

She reached under the bed and retrieved a long, white cardboard box, tied with a bonny red ribbon. He took it from her with a kiss, and was immediately surprised by the light weight of the box, immediately suspecting that it was empty, or some other kind of wind-up.  He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box.  Inside was black tissue paper, which he parted to reveal a rattan school cane!

“Oh good lord!” he exclaimed.  “What’s this for?”

“Well, it’s for you of course, my darling.  You said you’d missed out on the cane when you were younger, and that you’d often wondered what it was like.”

“Oh!  I didn’t mean it.  I’ve changed my mind!”

“Nonsense, darling.  Don’t lie to me.  You know you really want it!  Let’s try it out.”

“No way!”

“Don’t you like my present, darling?” she pouted, “I’m hurt.  You said you wondered what it was like and I thought, at 52, it’s time you found out!”

“Alright, alright.  But I’m a damned fool for saying yes.  Just don’t do it too hard, will you?”

They both climbed out of their peachy duvet, and she picked up the cane.

“Right darling, bend over the bed then.  I think a dozen red marks to match the dozen red roses!”

“A dozen sounds a lot.  Go easy on me!”

“No!” she cried, lashing the cane down with a laugh and all of her strength.  The cane wrapped around badly, cutting his haunch painfully.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!  That’s not meant to happen!” he cried.  “Look, you’re holding that cane all wrong!”

“Nonsense darling.  I’m holding it by the handle.”

“Exactly!  As I understand it the crook handle is just for show, or for hanging the cane up by.  You need to hold it a few centimetres down the shaft, otherwise you can’t control it properly.”

“Quite the expert, aren’t you?”

“Well, all boys know this stuff.  Let’s try again shall we?”  The second stroke was hard but landed accurately on his ample arse.  He gasped at the pain.  Had he really wanted to try this?  Just two strokes in, and it was proving to be quite an ordeal.

“How was that darling?”

“Fine, just fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

A third stroke whipped down, accompanied by a manly grunt.

The fourth however, was met by a boyish squeal.  She laughed and laughed.  “This is really turning me on darling,” she chuckled.

“I’m glad someone’s enjoying it!” he moaned.

Strokes five and six landed on top of the earlier ones, causing more discomfort and grunts.

“Can we leave it at six of the best, darling?” he asked.

“Certainly not!” she said, becoming ever more turned on, “This cane is a present we can both enjoy!”

A seventh stroke hit hard and he cried out, “I can assure you I’m not enjoying this at all!”

She whipped the eighth and ninth strokes down, saying, “Maybe not now, but later you will.”

“ARRRGH!” he exclaimed as the tenth stroke hit, clearly not enjoying it one bit.

“Elevensies,” she laughed and then “Last one darling!”  Her face was flushed, not so much from exertion, more from being really turned on.

After the final stroke, he leant over and dabbed the cum-soaked tissue on his wounded haunch.  That seemed to help with the pain.  Just then they both heard a key in the front door, followed by a loud cry of “Yoohoo, darling.”

He dropped the tissue, saying, “Shit!  It’s your mother!  Doesn’t she know it’s fucking Valentines Day?”

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Story © MMXVI by Rod Cayenne

Heart image: Creative Commons

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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, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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 Comments welcome

Married To The Cane (F/M, M/M) repeated

Erotic fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne, repeated from 2012…

1. WELL BEFORE THE HAPPY DAY

“Gerald, may I have a quiet word?”

“Yes, of course, wedding nerves?”

“No, it’s not that.  I’m quite relaxed about that, as is Judith.  I’ll try to be a good husband and make you a proud father-in-law.  It’s about that early wedding present.  The cane you’ve given her.  What’s that all about?”

“Oh that!  Well, it’s just in case, really.  I don’t approve of hitting women, but I am a great believer in males needing a touch of discipline.”

“But I’m twenty-nine!”

“Yes, and Judith is a good deal older and more responsible than you are, son.  I just thought it might help.  Just in case there are problems.”

“Help?  Problems?  It sounds pretty barbaric to me!”

“Oh I don’t think so Jason, my boy.  You see, I have experience of these matters.  Two successful marriages, and a successful teaching career.  I hope Judith will never need to use that cane.”

“Well I’m not happy about it.”

“Take my tip, Jason, just be loyal, hard-working and honest.  Judith won’t need to use the cane then.”

2. A LITTLE NEARER THE HAPPY DAY

“Hello Gerald, I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unexpectedly.”

“Not at all, Jason.  The door’s always open, you are family now, or will be soon.  What brings you here?  Missing Judith while she’s on her course?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really.”

“You’ve come here about nothing?”

“No, no.  It’s that cane thing again.  I’m worried.”

“Nothing to worry about, Jason.  Just be sure to behave yourself.  Come and sit down.  Let’s talk.”

“What’s worrying me is, it’s going to hurt.”

“Yes…”

“Well, I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Judith if she does decide to use it.  I need to know how bad it is.  I wondered if you could demonstrate?”

“Eh?  Let me see if I’ve got this right?  You want to sample the cane?  And you want me to give it to you?”

“Er, no.  I don’t really want it.  But, maybe you should.  I want this marriage to work, even in the bad times.”

“Well, I don’t know.  This is a most unusual request.”

“Well, you caused it Gerald, by giving Judith that damned cane!”

“Hmmm.  We do seem to have an attitude problem, Jason.  Perhaps a taste of the cane would be appropriate.”

“Oh!”

“Not so keen now, then?”

“I’m not keen at all, it just seems like a good idea.  Oh, and I don’t want Judith to know, please.”

“Tut, tut!  Secrets, too!  Alright, alright.  I can see your point of view is reasonable enough.  Let’s do it, and keep it our little in-laws secret!”

“Thanks, Dad, er Gerald I mean.”

“You probably won’t feel like thanking me afterwards!”

“No, maybe not, how’s this going to work then?”

“Well, let’s see then.  I think six of the best to get rid of any residual attitude problem.”

“Six!”

“Yes, a good round number.  You can keep your trousers on.  Not that Judith may be that kind if it comes to it.”

“Oh!”

“We’ll do it in my study room.  You can bend over the desk.  Upstairs now, please.”  The two men climbed the stairs.  Jason went first, which gave Gerald a good chance to survey the bottom he was about to cane.  It was a peach!

“In here?”

“Yes, that’s it.  Over the desk!” Gerald instructed as he wandered over to the brass umbrella stand in the corner and selected a crook-handled cane.  He sliced it through the air a few times.  Jason flinched each time the cane swished.  Gerald was minded to offer his future son-in-law the opportunity to back out, but then he decided not to.  After all, in some ways he was looking forward to demonstrating just who was the boss.  He looked at the rump offered submissively before him.  It was a very tempting target.  Best get stuck in!

SWISH-CRACK!

“AARGH!”

Jason leapt up clutching at his sore arse.  This was murder!

“JASON, JUST YOU GET BACK DOWN THIS INSTANT!” boomed Gerald.  He was minded to award a penalty stroke but decided to see how the next stroke was received.

SWISH-CRACK! “Yeeeowwww!”  At least he stayed down this time.

SWISH-CRACK!  “Arrrghhh!”  What a noisy boy he was!  Hardly like a twenty-nine-year-old…

SWISH-CRACK! “Arrrgghh!”

SWISH-CRACK! “Owww!”

SWISH-CRACK! “Ouch!”

The prescribed six strokes had been delivered.  Gerald returned the cane to the umbrella stand, giving a hearty laugh as he did so.  “So how was the picnic?” he asked Jason who was still bent over the desk.  “You can get up now.”

“Thanks, and yes, that was no picnic!”

“Now, let me see the marks.

You didn’t take it very well, Jason, I’m afraid.   In fact, it was a pretty poor performance.  Leaping up and all that noise!”

“Sorry Gerald.  I was surprised how bad it was.”

“Good, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.  Now you know what to expect from Judith if you mess her about.  And it goes to show I was right about your immaturity.  Any trouble, and you’ll have me and my cane to reckon with as well.  Is that clear?”

“Er yes, of course!”  What an alarming development for Jason…

“Now if my calculations are right, there’s six weeks until the wedding.  I suggest I give you another caning one month from today, so that’s the 12th of September.  That will give your bottom time to be cleared up in time for the honeymoon.  It’ll do you good and you need the experience.”

“Gosh no, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.  Believe me, I know what some men need and you are definitely in that category.”  Already, Gerald was thinking in terms of twelve strokes for the next session.  He was proud of Jason in a way.  The lad’s peachy arse was just made for the whippiest of canes.  He mused to himself that some more, perhaps monthly thrashings might be required, even after the wedding.  Maybe not?

3. AFTER THE HONEYMOON

Judith stared at the mess in the kitchen.  The living room was no better.  Her new husband was turning into a bit of a slob, if she wasn’t much mistaken.  He was sat on the sofa eating crisps and watching rugby on the TV.  It was now or never!

“Jason, come here.  What’s the meaning of this mess?  Get me the cane, it’s under our bed!”

“Oh Judith, I’m sorry, let me tidy up.”

She scowled at him and ordered, “The cane!  Now!”

Sheepishly, he went upstairs and retrieved the cane from its hiding place.  He gulped as he realised the moment he had been dreading had arrived.  At least Gerald’s canings had prepared him.  He knew what to expect.  Or did he?

“Right!  Give me that cane now!  I’m  going to give you a bloody good whipping.  I’m not putting up with this any longer.  Have you had the cane before?”  She whipped the cane through the air.

“Er yes, a while back.  Twice.  On my trousers.”

“Well those jeans are coming off, I can tell you.  And your boxers!  You can keep your rugby shirt and socks on.  I rather like them!”

He was relieved that she liked those, perhaps this was just going to be a sexy sort of game?  She made him bend over a little coffee table in front of the TV.  He was on all fours with his arse sticking out nicely.

“How many?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Bah!  How many will it take to make me happy?  Maybe ten or twenty!”

“Twenty?  That’s a hell of a lot.”

“No, it’s not.  Yes, we’ll make it twenty.  Prepare yourself!”

Soon the air was full of the sound of the cane swishing down on the peachy buttocks.  It landed with a resounding and satisfying thwack each time.  Judith was enjoying it enormously, and chuckling out loud!  Jason wasn’t enjoying it one bit, but at least the strokes were not quite as beastly as those given by Gerald.

“My naughty, naughty husband!  Don’t mess with me!  Stick your bottom out for the second ten!”

Just then her mobile rang.  Should she answer it?  Yes, she should.  It was her dad on the line.  He must have a psychic link!

“I’m  just using the cane for the first time.  It’s the best wedding present we could have had.  Yes, bare bottom!  The place was a real pig sty.”

Jason blushed.  Oh, the embarrassment!

“Twenty I think.  You think it should be twenty-four?  Yes, more traditional, I suppose.  But no, I’m going to stick at twenty.  No, he won’t be doing it again in a hurry.  I’m halfway through.  Yes, lovely red lines.  He’s making a lot of fuss.  How’s mum?  Yes, we’ll come over for tea later.  Bye.  Love you!”

SWISH-CRACK!  The eleventh stroke hit with a vengeance.  Jason cried out.  Judith flexed the cane.

SWISH-CRACK!  The twelfth was even harder.  Was it her dad’s influence?

SWISH-CRACK! He gasped.

SWISH-CRACK! He said he was sorry.

SWISH-CRACK! She laughed.

SWISH-CRACK! He said he was sorry again.  He certainly was!

SWISH-CRACK! She was thinking about her dad.

SWISH-CRACK! The wedding present was terrific.

SWISH-CRACK! He was close to sobbing now.

SWISH-CRACK! His cock was stiffening.

“All done.  Go and get into bed, I’ll be up in a minute!”

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(________________

Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne

Comments welcome

Comments from the original 2012 post are here

Grading The Punishment (F/M) repost

♥ Site recommended story ♥

Reposted hot erotica by guest author Fred Spankmanbare

So if my wife uses her canes more often than her hairbrush, and always on my bare bottom, what other ways do we use to deal with the question of grading my punishment to suit different offences? As I said in my previous post (“How I Became a Spanked Husband”) we don’t use corner time, cross-dressing or any sort of humiliation; none of those things is a turn-on for either of us and adds nothing to the simple effectiveness and mutual satisfaction of straightforward adult domestic spanking. Nor do we agree with spanking or caning on underpants or pyjamas, even for milder infringements, since any garment tends to defeat the whole purpose of the exercise. Instead, my wife varies the number of spanks, their severity, and the position in which I have to present myself to be disciplined. In terms of the number of cane strokes, an “ordinary” offence usually gets 15-20. From time to time, however, I have to stay in position while she applies 24 strokes or even more.

For special offences, a more lengthy session takes place. On first presenting my bottom, and despite what I said earlier about always on the bare (this is for special sessions, remember) I am allowed to wear what we call my Punishment Panties. These are tight-fitting, male, cotton underpants of the jockey type, and when I have pulled them on taut and smooth she makes me bend over and gives me 24 hard strokes of the cane. Then there is a pause. I have to get up, still gasping, take down the Punishment Panties and bend over once more, presenting my sore, striped and now completely exposed, unprotected, bare bottom for the second part of my punishment – another 24 hard strokes. These are events to remember, I can assure you. During a severe punishment such as this, and especially when she has finished, my wife likes to see (and feel) the weals raised by her cane.

Severity can also be varied to match the offence by choosing the appropriate instrument. My wife’s increasing order of severity for disciplining me is hairbrush – cane – leather riding whip, or even a mixture of two or more of these. Variety is the spice of life, after all! The black leather riding whip is very effective. My wife uses it like a cane, and the little tab on the end makes a nice ‘whap’ sound on bare buttocks as she lashes it across my bottom (she doesn’t just flick me with the end-tab). Before the session, she tells me why and how I am to be punished, for example: “Your behaviour has been absolutely terrible. You simply have to improve, and you know you deserve some really strict discipline. Go up to the bedroom now. I’m going to give you the cane.” My stomach churns, and after a moment I reply “yes, very well. How many strokes do you want to give me?” “You need lots”, she says, “but 24 should be enough if I cane you hard.”

 

On other occasions, the tension may build up to very high levels before such a discussion, and at those times I frequently ask her directly if she would like to use her cane or hairbrush on me. I tell her that we both need her to do it – a tension reliever for her, retribution for me. She usually agrees, and we make an appointment for later. Sometimes, instead of asking directly (particularly if things are really bad) I get ready for bed before her (without my pyjama bottoms), take out her favourite cane or her whip and lay it on her pillow. I wait under the blankets, heart thumping in anticipation. Her usual reaction is along the following lines. “Ah! Good!” she would exclaim when she comes in and sees the punishment instrument laid out ready for her to use, “I’m glad you understand that you deserve some strict attention. I want to spank you really thoroughly because I have a lot of steam to work off, so I’m going to cane you very slowly as well as hard. I want to use my whip on you as well, for the final strokes”. She peels off the blankets completely. “I’m glad to see you’ve already bared your naughty bottom. Now – turn over and present it for caning. Put your pillows under you. You know the position I like to have you in for discipline. How many strokes do you think I need to give you?” I think about this for a moment; better not choose a number that’s too low or she may well double it,  so I clear my throat and murmur “at least two dozen, please”. She agrees, so the required and mutually welcome disciplinary session gets under way. By the time she has finished (the two dozen may have been increased to 30, the final six being with her riding whip) her mood is much lighter and more relaxed, as it always is after she has administered discipline. When my bottom stops quivering I too have a great feeling of release.

 

My wife also grades the punishment severity by varying the way in which she makes me bend over. For hairbrush spanking it’s OTK, of course, with her sitting on the edge of the bed. Her preferred position for a caning or whipping, however, is to have me lie flat on our double bed with a pillow or two under me to raise my bottom into a more rounded presentation. She kneels on the bed and briskly administers the agreed discipline. I am allowed to wriggle and squirm, as long as I keep my bottom up. For a more serious session (like with my Punishment Panties on) I have to kneel on the bed on elbows and knees, bottom right up in the air, skin taut (and panties taut too, when they’re being used). Sometimes I get whipped downstairs in the dining room or kitchen, using a chair reversed against the table. I fetch her cane from the bedroom as instructed, or her riding whip if she has chosen to use that, and return downstairs. I have to bare my bottom as usual, and kneel on the chair with my head and shoulders on the table. The agreed number of strokes is then administered deliberately and thoroughly. I find that these positions, where I have to bend right over so that my buttocks are stretched, result in a more severe punishment than being whipped lying on the bed when my bottom is soft and relaxed.

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Story © Fred Spankmanbare, 2011 

Comments welcome

How I Became A Spanked Husband (F/M) repost

♥ Site recommended story ♥

 

Red hot erotica by very special guest author Fred Spankmanbare, repeated from 2011.

 

Ouch!

As a disciplined husband I am regularly spanked on my bare bottom by my wife, who sometimes uses her hairbrush but her favourite is a thin whippy cane. Let me tell you how it all started.

Many years ago my wife and I started spanking for sex play. During that phase she got spanked as well as me, of course, but gradually things developed so that it was me who was given a warm bottom much more frequently than her. We also introduced the cane. I had to teach her how to use it properly, because although she had been spanked as a child and was therefore pretty good with the hairbrush, her only experience of the cane had been on the hand at school, when such things were still permitted. She had no experience of bottom caning, but I was glad to find that she was a willing pupil and a quick learner. When she was on the receiving end she preferred to get the hairbrush rather than the cane, but she was perfectly happy to use both on me.

During our more adventurous sex sessions we would sometimes use a sag bag (bean bag) on the living room floor – they are very good for support in a variety of positions, including spanking. During the spanking intervals my wife would get into position first. She would lie across the top of the sag bag and cheekily display her pert buttocks for me to use her own hairbrush on her, which I would do briskly and noisily until her bottom was rosy pink. We would then resume sex very excitedly, only to break off again later (before climaxing) so she could take her turn at administering the spanking.

Over quite a long period the spanking and caning sessions moved almost imperceptibly, but steadily, from sex play to something more serious and even more gratifying for both of us. For some time now she has been the one who administers the discipline, very thoroughly, strictly, and to our mutual benefit.  We both find that the best way of dealing with problems is for her to give me a good spanking or caning on my bare bottom. We both find this very satisfying, and much better than arguments and days of angry silence. It clears the air wonderfully.

She has insisted from the outset that I am always punished “on the bare”, and although she still uses her hairbrush from time to time, her preferred instrument is the cane. Her favourite cane is a thin, whippy crook-handled one about 27 inches long and no thicker than 1/4 inch. I fully agree with her bare-bottom approach – it’s the only way to properly apply the hairbrush or the cane, or anything else that she may use for the purpose. So whenever I need to be punished, I take down my trousers and underpants, or my pyjamas, and bend over obediently for her. I know it is for my own good, and that my wife also has a need to administer her discipline in this way in order to relieve her tension, anger, disappointment or whatever else has made the discipline necessary.

A hairbrush spanking is always very effective, but sometimes it is too noisy. Perhaps some disciplinary wives/girlfriends regard the possibility of other people overhearing the spanking as part of their man’s punishment, but my wife prefers discretion (she always closes any open windows before dealing with me). So unless we have the house to ourselves, we find the cane a better alternative. The menacing whisper of the cane doing its work, and its mean whap on contact, while more severe on my bottom, make much less noise than the loud smack of the hairbrush on bare buttocks, especially when my oohs and aahs are added! For the same reason, my wife has a shorter straight cane, the same thinness as the crook-handled one, which she brings with us on holidays for the occasions on which she needs to make me “bare and bend” in a hotel room or in the bedroom of a friend’s house. She has three canes altogether – the third one is a straight cane 25 inches long and thicker than the other two; she sometimes uses this one when she feels I need more strict attention. Her favourite is the crook handled one, however.

 

I get the impression that in America the paddle is the usual instrument of choice, but in Britain most couples seem to prefer the cane. I have heard the cane described as a totally feminine instrument, not just in the sense that it is a very effective way for a wife to administer discipline, but also in the sense that the cane itself is essentially feminine. It is lightly built, very efficient, gets on with its work without fuss, and leaves a lasting impression! True, don’t you think?

Another nice approach I heard about is the one used by a disciplinary wife in Australia, writing in ITC spanking magazine. She has names for her punishment instruments, and makes appointments for her husband with Harriet or Caroline. Harriet Hairbrush, and Caroline Cane! Neat.

In conclusion I can say that although my wife’s discipline is painful while she is dealing with me, the after-effects are well worth it. Anger dispersed, friends again, air cleared completely, a great sense of release and a well-marked, glowing, tingling bottom to remind me of the experience for some considerable time afterwards. Its like coming down from a sort of a high.

We don’t use corner time, cross-dressing or any sort of humiliation; those things may be OK for other people, but not for us. In my next post I’ll tell you how my wife grades my punishments to suit different offences.

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© MMXI byFred Spankmanbare, and used here by kind permission

All rights reserved.

______________

D I S C L A I M E R

All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

_______________

If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment.