Appointment for a Caning

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It took me several weeks to pluck up courage to contact Mr B again, after going to him for my first spanking. But I did finally contact him and told him how much I had enjoyed being punished by his firm hand and asked if I could visit him again. When he responded, I was overjoyed that he said how much pleasure he had taken from making my bottom sore and he would happily do so again. I remembered how he had told me about one of his other “boys” who he had taken to his bed and used fully after a spanking, so I asked if he would consider using me in the same way. I said my bottom would be totally his.

His email reply came through the next day. He would grant my request of being fully used by him, but I would not gain access to his bed by merely being spanked; I would have to take a caning to prove myself worthy. I pondered this for a while, but then messaged back that I accept. I really wanted to please this man and let him have me totally. His dominant air had me under its spell and, right now, I could not think of one thing I would not do to gain his affection.

An appointment was fixed for the following week and I had to count the endless hours before the time came and again I found myself shivering nervously at his grand front door. Like the time before, it was his house-keeper who answered and ushered me into the lounge with a wry smile on her face, no doubt remembering me from last time.

“Remove all your clothes and wait here for Mr B” she instructed.

I did as I was told and stood waiting, trembling for several very long minutes before Mr B came in, dressed in his tweed suit complete with bow tie, like an English country doctor, with that lovely stale smell of pipe tobacco about him.

Surprisingly, he came over and hugged me to him, his tweed rough on my bare skin, his hands firmly on my buttocks, whilst he bent down and kissed me lightly on the lips.

“Nice to see you again my boy, you are quite a brave little fellow, aren’t you?” he said,

“I am so looking forward to ploughing this tight little bottom!” giving my cheeks a tight squeeze,

“But first you must go through the pain barrier, so to speak.” He chuckled then said,

“Be strong, it will be worth it.”

“Now, let’s get that bottom warmed up… bend over the chair, don’t move, don’t squeal, don’t blub.”

With that he started spanking each of my cheeks in turn, with firm rhythmical blows. I held on tight to the chair and took it as best I could, trying hard not to move; trying to earn his respect and earn a place in his bed. I kept this thought in my mind as the blows got harder and the pain in my backside intensified.

After several minutes he stopped for a rest and gently caressed by bottom, during which the house-keeper came into the room with a tray of tea. I stayed in position over the chair, as she poured Mr B a cup.

“Thank you Mrs Walsh, what do you bets10 think of my handiwork so far?”

“Very nice, Mr B, coming up a lovely shade of red.”

“This young man wants to earn a place in my bed, so he’s being very brave.”

“He’ll be in for a caning, then, I know you like purple stripes on a red cheek!” Mrs Walsh replied, as if this were a normal conversation about the weather.

“He certainly will, but I need to go upstairs and get ready, so will you take over and administer the cane please, Mrs Walsh? Remember, I want to feel raised welts but don’t break the skin, I don’t want blood on my nice clean sheets. Send him up when you’ve finished.”

With that, he left the room; leaving me feeling very naked and very vulnerable in the company of a middle-aged house-keeper, who had very soon procured a stout cane, about three feet long, from the corner cupboard.

“Needless to say, this will hurt… a lot” said Mrs Walsh,

“But you obviously want to impress Mr B, so I suggest you try to take it the best you can… No silly squirming or yelling. If you can’t take it, you can get dressed at any time and be on your way home.”

The first blow stung like hell, she didn’t hold back and I let out an involuntary yell.

“Don’t be silly!” she said “we haven’t started yet!”

The second blow was equally painful and I really started to think what had I let myself in for? was it worth it? But I bit my lip and thought of Mr B upstairs in his big bed and tried to put the pain out of my mind. This was easier said than done as the cane seared into my soft skin again and again, at the hand of a woman who clearly took great pleasure in her task. She rested after a dozen or more strokes and came over to feel my red hot buttocks, admiring her work.

“Coming along nicely, starting to raise welts already – you’ve obviously not had many canings have you boy?”

“Right, next dozen” she said and my heart sank. The strokes seemed harder, the pain was certainly more intense, but I now felt the stirrings of more than pain; a deep feeling of arousal, where the intensity of pain triggers feelings deep within similar to pleasure. I was spurred on also by the thought of joining Mr B upstairs. There was no way I was going to let the agony keep me from my goal. More strokes came thick and fast until, after what seemed like for ever, they stopped and Mrs Walsh said I could stand up, tears in my eyes.

“Let me feel” she said, trailing her finger tips over my punished buttocks.

“Mmmmm, like railway lines, just how he likes it!” Her face came close to mine and she gently wiped a tear from my cheek…

“Just five more, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t believe this innocent looking lady could be so cruel, but my goal was in sight and I went back over the chair, exposing my naked backside to her gaze and to the cane. I took the blows the best bets10 giriş I could, uttering an almost constant moan from tightly closed lips. After she had administered her bonus five, I stood up again and she told me to follow her, not to Mr B’s bedroom upstairs, but to the bathroom.

“In there, douche yourself out, you want to be clean for Mr B… oh and there’s some lubricant; I suggest you use a lot, I understand he has quite a girth.”

She waited outside the door until I had finished, then led the way upstairs and opened the door to Mr B’s bedroom, where Mr B was under the bedsheet, working on a laptop.

“Here he is, Mr B, freshly caned to your liking, cleaned and ready for you.”

“Thank you Mrs Walsh, you may go now” She hesitated at the door,

“Do you think I could cane him again before he leaves? I particularly enjoyed this one.”

“We shall see, Mrs Walsh. If he wants to stay the night, he will have to earn the privilege, so yes, you will have another turn.”

“Could I suggest the inner thighs and perhaps the stomach, Mr B?”

“Perfect I’ll send him down, but only, of course, if he chooses to stay.”

Mrs Walsh left with a smile on her face, whilst Mr B kept working on his laptop. He looked up and beckoned me over to his bedside and made me turn round to inspect the state of my backside.

“Mmmmm jolly good work, Mrs Walsh! Now…” he threw the sheets off his lower body, exposing his flaccid but impressively thick member,

“get to work on that, boy, whilst I finish my emails.”

I knelt at his bedside and took his weighty cock in my hand, lifting it off this hairy stomach and dipping my mouth to meet it. I had suffered a lot for this, so I savoured every second, taking his cock into my warm, willing mouth, running my tongue all round his exposed glans, kissing down the increasing length of his shaft, cupping his heavy balls in my palm. I spent ages getting to know every millimetre, every vein of this wonderful member, marvelling that soon it would be deep inside my body, taking pleasure from my tightness and the heat of my rectum. His cock had grown to a full seven or eight inches, despite Mr B’s apparent ignorance of my presence as he continued working at his laptop. Eventually, he put his laptop aside and said to me in a gentler voice

“Good boy, now climb up here and let me make it all better for you.”

I got on the bed and lay on top of his naked torso, my head up on his chest, his engorged cock under my stomach, as he took my face between his hands and kissed me so gently, on the lips, then all over my face, sweet gentle caresses of his lips. He moved his hands down my back and onto my sore and scarred buttocks. I shifted my position to give him better access, bringing my lips to his and opening my mouth enough to allow his tongue access. I felt his fingers gently tracing the lines of the bets10 güvenilir mi raised skin where the cane had seared into my buttocks, moving from one welt to another. His cock seemed to twitch between us as he did so, obviously deriving pleasure from my punished backside. His big hands grasped my buttocks, squeezing them together then pulling them apart and up, so that his stiff cock nestled between them.

“Did Mrs Walsh have you cleaned out and lubricated?” he whispered in my ear.

“Yes, Sir”

“Did she tell you I don’t use condoms?”

“No Sir, but I don’t mind.”

“You don’t have much choice, boy” and with that I felt his cock head penetrate my rectum, with an exquisite blend of pleasure and pain. Thankfully, I had been very generous with the lubrication, but his girth stretched me to the full and made me gasp as he slowly but forcefully pushed to full depth. He withdrew slowly, then pushed back in with a groan. He kissed me again, his tenderness in complete contrast to the harshness of the caning that he had made me endure. This really was a reward earned the hard way, but right at this moment, I knew it had been worth it and that this is what I had craved since my first visit to the house. After a while, my internal muscles became more used to the intrusion and with each thrust, the I had intense feelings of fullness and a wonderful closeness to him, his firm hands guiding my buttocks up and down, his face next to mine, his heavy breathing, his beautiful power so close, feeling so content that he was taking pleasure from my body, so happy that my arse was such a silky warm sheath for his hard cock, tightening my muscles to increase his enjoyment, kissing his face and neck, getting lost in the frenzy of pleasure, desperately wanting him to release deep into me. He held my face close to his as he kept thrusting from below, sweat forming on his brow

“Do you want my cum, boy?” he gasped.

“Yes Sir, deep inside me, please Sir”

He kissed me deeply, his tongue roaming inside my mouth, before his whole body went rigid, his cock at its deepest point within me, his mouth broke away from mine and he let out a shuddering groan and I could feel his hot seed release into me, filling me, possessing me, owning me… I knew I needed him and I wanted to be needed by him, to be the receptacle for his seed from now on.

We lay still for a while, him stroking the back of my head as we recovered our breath, both content in the afterglow, neither wanting to do anything but lay together for as long as we could.

“Good boy, very good boy” he whispered so gently, as his softening cock slipped slowly from me. His arms enveloped me, anchoring me to his hairy chest, whilst he stroked my hair and the side of my face.

“What a wonderful houseboy you will make for a needy old man like me. Would you like to stay the night in my bed? Your beautiful arse needs to be filled several more times yet. Also, Mrs Walsh does a wonderful cooked breakfast!”

“Yes please, Sir, I would love that.”

“Ok,” he said softly, “go down and see her and ask very nicely for the cane again, I’ll wait here for you.”

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