♥ Site-recommended story! ♥

Brand spanking new to The Canery is this long, hot story by very special guest author JOELSTRAP.  All the characters are 18 or older.  WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!

The Most Painful Lesson by Joelstrap

That guy’s checking you out.

Huh? Where?

Over there, by the window.

I glanced across the busy bar of the Well-Hung Boy and saw a young man, perhaps early twenties, dressed in black leather jeans, and with a heavy, studded belt about his waist. His denim shirt was open sufficiently to reveal a sun-browned chest with a smattering of hair in a well-defined cleft. His hair was thick, black, and untidy and framed an open, tanned face. He was smiling and, as I looked at him, he grinned more broadly and raised his glass. I felt a warm flush spreading rapidly from my neck to my hairline, and turned away.

So?

So what? I said.

Well, he wants you, you nitwit. Go and speak to him, replied Colin in exasperated tones.

How do you know he wasn’t checking you out? I countered.

Colin slapped his forehead in theatrical fashion.

Ye gods and little fishes, he moaned in exaggerated despair. He was looking at you. He was checking you out. He smiled at you when you looked at him. What more do you want? A bloody invitation written in gold ink?

Okay, okay; but if you’re wrong it’s gonna be so-o-o-o embarrassing. Maybe I should wait and see if he comes over here?

Don’t be such a wimp, Dek. Just go!

He picked up my glass and made as if to tip the contents into his own.

Hey!

On you go then.

I gave Colin a resentful glare and stood up. Over at the window, the guy was taking a long drink from his glass. I swallowed hard and walked across to his table.

Er….hi! I ventured nervously.

Hi! I’m Craig, he responded. Drink?

Thanks. I’m Derek.

He got up and crossed to the bar and I followed him with my eyes. The leather jeans fitted him well and revealed a taut, well-rounded pair of buttocks. The studded belt fascinated me. There was something masterful and dominant about it. It suited him. It occurred to me that he hadn’t asked me what I wanted, but I was happy enough with the pint of bitter he brought back with him and placed before me. As he sat down, I noticed that hanging from his belt and dangling down his right leg, was a short leather strap.

Cheers, he said; and I reciprocated.

I’ve been watching you, he announced solemnly.

Er….yeh….my mate said.

You had your feet on the empty chair at your table.

I stared at him.

Well, yeh, I guess I did, I admitted, but I don’t see…….

Don’t you? Would your mum let you put your feet on the sofa, Derek?

No, but this isn’t……..and what’s it got to do with you anyway? I demanded.

I don’t like to see boys behaving badly.

Behaving badly? For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t smashing up the place, or starting a fight, or trying to sneak off without paying, I protested. Anyway, it’s none of your business. Is that all you wanted? To tell me off like I’m your fucking kid?

What did you think I wanted?

Er……I kinda thought……well, that is I sort of wondered……..or at least my mate thought that…….?

That what?

That you were…..well, checking me out, I replied reluctantly, feeling my face burning again. I’d best go.

He placed a hand on my leg, high up, almost at my groin, and I froze. His thumb began to move slowly along my inner thigh and as it did so my cock responded with a violent thrust upward. I drew in breath sharply as it strained against my underpants.

Randy young bugger, aren’t you? he observed. I think you need to be leathered.

Huh?

You heard me.

You serious?

Craig lifted the strap which hung from his belt and showed it to me. This was just so weird that I felt out of my depth. I had to get away. I rose to my feet, wincing as my erection tried to force its way past my waist.

I don’t know what your game is, I said angrily, but I’ve had enough of it.

I stalked back across the bar to where Colin was sitting watching and plonked myself down at his table once again.

What you do that for? enquired Colin. You can’t have fallen out with him already.

He’s a weirdo, I said shortly.

A pretty gorgeous, sexy one though, remarked Colin. You sure you want to give him up so soon?

There’s nothing to give up, I retorted.

So, what did he say? Colin persisted.

I told him what had transpired during the brief encounter.

He scolded you for having your feet on the chair; and he said you needed a leathering? he demanded incredulously.

Like I told you; he’s a weirdo.

But he bought you a pint; which you left behind; and he made your cock leap like a salmon. He must like you; even if he doesn’t like the way you behave, mused Colin.

Well, if he likes me, he’s got a funny way of showing it, I snapped. Now shut up about the bastard.

Colin sighed and changed the subject and we chatted in a desultory manner about various things until he suddenly hissed:

Hey! He’s coming over!

What? Just ignore him, I instructed.

I was aware that Craig was approaching from behind me, but I forced myself not to look round. As he passed our table, he laid on it the short leather strap which he’d had hanging from his waist and which he’d shown to me; and then continued on his way towards the door saying as he moved away, See you when you’re ready, Derek.

What the hell……? I spluttered, staring after his retreating back.

Colin picked up the strap and ran his hand along it.

What the devil is it? I demanded.

A strap, replied Colin.

I can see that, I retorted sarcastically. What’s it for?

Colin shrugged.

Well, putting together your bad behaviour in having your feet on the chair, and your rudeness in walking out on him and spurning the beer he bought you, I’d say it was for strapping your sorry arse.

What! I spluttered.

Well, that’s my theory. You got a better one, Derek?

He’s not taking a strap to my arse!

Why not? Might do you good.

Now don’t you start! What kind of a guy leaves you a bloody strap?

Colin said nothing.

Well? I demanded.

I’ve told you what I think. What else can I do? He obviously wants you to take the strap back to him when you’re ready. That’s what he said.

Ready? Ready for what?

Colin looked at me in a pitying way.

Ready for him to use it on your little bum, he said.

Yeh; that’ll be right, I snarled. What kind of a twisted bugger wants to leather a guy’s backside?

One who thinks you’ve got a cute arse that could do with a good leathering? suggested Colin.

Go fuck yourself! I told him savagely, slamming my fist down on the table in a fit of temper.

Colin’s drink teetered and fell.

Now look what you’ve done, you bad tempered bugger! he shouted at me, as he tried desperately to catch in his glass some of the beer flowing from the surface of the table.

It’s your own bloody fault for being so damned supercilious, I told him furiously. And my arse is mine and I’ll thank you to remember it, I added, glaring at him and giving him a vicious two-fingered sign.

Charming.

I turned away and fixed my gaze on the far side of the bar.

I see there’s a tag with his phone-number on it, on the end of the strap, remarked Colin.

So?

So when you’re ready to be leathered, you can call him up and make an appointment, explained Colin.

I’m not going to be ready to be leathered, I half shouted at him. Anyway, what kind of a freakish half-wit makes an appointment to get his arse tanned? Now shut the fuck up about it.

Boy! He’s really got under your skin, hasn’t he? observed Colin.

I’m warning you…., I began, getting to my feet.

Sure. Keep your hair on.

We sat for another half hour or so and then rose to leave.

So, you not taking it? asked Colin.

Taking what?

Oh, you know fine, he said.

Why should I? I don’t want the bloody thing.

But if you leave it there, it might just get thrown out, Colin pointed out.

Tough. If he’s daft enough to leave his things with someone who doesn’t want them, that’s his lookout. It’s not my responsibility.

Colin shrugged and we made for the door.

Hey!

I turned and saw a young guy running up behind us. He was holding the strap and smiling shyly at me.

You left this on your table, he said, holding it out towards me. Cool. Bet you have fun tanning guys’ arses with this little beauty. You can tan mine any day.

Tanning guys’………, I began. I’ll tell you what I’m gonna tan; your bloody face with my fists if you don’t mind your own business.

But I thought……, the boy said before I interrupted him furiously.

I don’t want it. It’s not mine. You have it. It’s a present, okay? I snarled, throwing the strap back at him and heading for the door.

Outside in the street, I realised that Colin wasn’t with me. I turned back and was about to re-enter the Well-Hung Boy when Colin emerged, holding the strap.

What the hell did you bring that for?

Come on, Derek! The guy was being helpful.

Yeh; and now he thinks I go around with a strap so that I can leather guys’ bums with it, I protested. He’ll think I’m weird.

Seemed to me he thought you were pretty okay, observed Colin, pushing the strap into my hand.

Oh, shut up! I snapped and, coiling the strap and shoving it into the pocket of my denims, I strode off at top speed.

Colin caught up with me at the bus-stop.

Fuck, but you so want that strap across your arse, don’t you? he said.

I grabbed his t-shirt and balled it in my hand at his throat.

I told you to shut up about that bloody strap, I ground out angrily. And if you don’t, I’ll take it across your sorry arse; and I’ll make damned sure you feel it!

Hey! Cool it, mate. Don’t you threaten me.

I released him and a pang of conscience smote me. Colin was my best friend and had been since we were twelve.

Sorry, I muttered. I was outta line.

Colin put an arm round my shoulder.

You really gotta learn to control that temper of yours, he said with a sigh. Okay. Let’s forget it. Here’s the bus.

We boarded and made our way back to the flat.

Before I went to bed that night, I pulled the strap out of the pocket of my jeans and examined it. The leather was a dull brown, as if well-worn.

Fuck! This thing’s been used to tan guys’ hides! A lot. I wonder what it feels like to get your tail leathered with something like this? Craig seemed to think I wanted it. But why? He was checking me out; yeh, fine. It happens from time to time. I’m not a bad-looking guy. But all the boys I’ve ever known who’ve checked me out wanted to get into my pants; or to let me into their pants. Craig’s weird. He wants to leather me. I guess it could be quite exciting; and maybe I need to try it? Hell, I’m eighteen. If I don’t try things when I’m young, I’ll never try them. Can’t do any harm, after all. I mean, it’s only a leathering. I shouldn’t think I’ll like it, but at least I can say I gave it a go. The worse I’m gonna get is a sore arse for a few hours. My cock seems to be keen on the idea. Like a bloody fir tree in my pants.

I stroked the strap and slapped it on the palm of my hand a few times. It stung more than I’d expected. I looked at the little metal tag with the phone-number on it and decided to sleep on it and make up my mind in the morning. I stripped and padded through to the bathroom and then came back and slid naked under the duvet. I reached out and lifted the strap from the bedside-table. I laid it on the pillow just beside my face so that I could smell the leather. I began to play with my rampant cock and moved my cheek against the strap as I imagined how it might sting my bottom. Shortly after, my balls were pumping out their load of boy-cream. I settled down contentedly, face still resting on the strap, and fell asleep.

You called Craig about getting that strap across your arse yet? enquired Colin at breakfast.

No. Why should I?

You had your feet on the chair and you were very rude to him, replied Colin. You need to be punished.

Oh yeh? And who made you the judge? I demanded sarcastically.

Craig’s the one who gave you the strap and told you to contact him; not me, replied Colin. Give the guy a ring.

But I’ve never been leathered in my life, I protested. I bet it hurts like hell.

So? You’re needing it, Derek. You can’t get it outta your head, said Colin.

Huh?

Don’t try to kid me, mate. You’ve hardly said a word since you came through this morning; and for why? Cos you’re thinking about that strap and what it’s gonna feel like when Craig takes it across your pert little buns.

I felt myself going red as the accuracy of Colin’s reading of me sank in. There seemed no point in denying it.

Okay; so I been thinking about it. Why shouldn’t I? It’s not every day a complete stranger checks me out and gives me a strap and tells me to call him when I want him to leather my tail for me, I said peevishly.

Yeh, yeh; don’t get your pants in a paddy. I’m just saying that you obviously want it, so why not give the guy a call, arrange to meet him, and then you might be with it enough to stop stirring marmalade into your coffee, said Colin.

I looked down at my mug and at the bits of orange-peel floating on the surface of the coffee.

Oh shit!

I got up from the table to go and pour away the coffee, but Colin took the mug from me.

I’ll empty this and get you fresh coffee, he said. You go and call the guy.

Now?

Yes, now, Derek! Cos if you don’t, I’ll phone him and arrange a meeting for you; and I’ll tell him to give you a dozen extra licks with the strap for being such an idiot, he threatened.

Okay, okay! I’m going.

I went through to my room, picked up my mobile, and called the number on the strap-tag. Craig answered almost at once.

Er….it’s er……Derek. You left a strap with me when we met last night, and you er………well you sorta suggested that maybe if I wanted to……….

You wanna feel the strap across your arse, Derek? Great! Meet me at the Well-Hung Boy at eight this evening and I’ll bring you back here to my place for a leathering, he said cheerfully.

Leathering?

Yeh. That’s what that strap’s for. I’m gonna leather your behind with it.

It’s just that leathering sounds a bit brutal, I explained nervously. I thought maybe you were just gonna give me a few licks so I can find out how it feels.

How old are you, Derek?

Eighteen.

And you think that for a guy of your age, a few licks are suitable punishment for putting your feet on the chair and for being very rude to me, do you?

Hey! I’m not coming for a fucking punishment. I just think that I wanna find out what it feels like to get the strap, okay?

Oh, I’ll give you the strap alright, hard enough to teach you not to put your feet on chairs, replied Craig grimly. And then I’ll deal with you for your rudeness to me, he added.

You’re not strapping me twice, I said firmly. No way.

If you come here, Derek, he replied quietly. I decide how hard a beating you get.

Beating? When did it suddenly become a beating? You’re not beating me, chum, I retorted. That’s it. You can shove your strap where the sun don’t shine!

I stabbed at the screen of my mobile and terminated the call.

Kinky sadist, I muttered to myself as I went back to the breakfast-table.

So? demanded Colin as I sat down.

No, I replied.

He doesn’t want to leather your cute little bum?

Oh, he wants to leather it alright, I told him angrily. Not just a little spanking to find out how it feels; oh no! He wants to give me a bloody beating.

Quite right too, said Colin, nodding approvingly.

Balls!

So you chickened out, huh?

I did not chicken out, I yelled angrily. I don’t want a bloody beating; and that’s not cowardice; that’s common sense, okay?

Calm down, Dek. You’re getting hell of a worked up about this. I think you really want it; cos you really want to find out what a spanking feels like. Am I right?

I scowled furiously at him; but I knew that he was on the ball.

Okay, okay; I did want to find out. But that bastard wants to leather the shit outta me, I’m sure of it.

Nah; no way, replied Colin. I saw the way he was ogling you in the bar and how he was sizing up your tackle and eyeing your buns. He’s just acting dominant, that’s all. Go and phone him back, Dek, and tell him you’ll come.

I considered for a few minutes as I sipped the fresh coffee which Colin had brought me, and as I cooled down I decided to give it another go. I went through for my phone. Craig answered.

Er, hi, It’s me again; Derek.

Oh yes?

Well, I had second thoughts and I decided maybe I could come along and……..you know……..find out how the strap feels……..and…….and I’ll take what you think I need, okay?

You decided that, did you, Derek? I seem to remember you losing your temper with me just a few minutes ago, and cutting me off.

Yeh; sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting that stuff about beating and I kinda freaked out, you know?

No, I don’t know. Getting a bit freaked out is one thing; but losing it and hanging up on me is something I don’t take from anybody. So you can forget it, mate.

What?! I yelled down the phone. You can’t do this to me. I’ll……..

What will you do? Have a tantrum to yourself like the spoiled little brat that you are?

Brat? Don’t you dare call……..hey! If you hang………

Before I could say any more, the phone went dead.

Fuck!

I went through to where Colin was finishing his breakfast.

All set? he enquired through a mouthful of toast.

No.

Whaddya mean, no? he asked.

It’s a negative word. It means not at all; not in any circumstances, I elucidated sarcastically.

You gonna treat me like a human-being , Dek; or will I just go away and leave you to stew in your own juice?

A sharp pang of conscience sliced through me.

Sorry, Colin. I kinda lost it. The guy was annoyed that I hung up on him last time. He doesn’t want to see me, I explained.

You’re not gonna get to feel that strap? asked Colin.

I shook my head.

It was several days later and I was sitting in the Well-Hung Boy slowly downing a pint when a guy came up and plonked himself down at my table.

Hi! he began cheerfully. Remember me?

I looked into a smiling face, sun-browned and framed by a mass of unruly fair hair. Bright blue eyes sparkled like sunlight on water. Bee-stung lips were parted to show even, white teeth. Between my legs, something stirred.

Er, no, I confessed. But I wish I did.

I’m Ethan, he said; and then, when I still looked blank, he continued, I was the guy who ran after you when you left your strap on the table a few days ago. The guy you were so busy being rude to that you didn’t even notice him properly, he added, a hurt expression on his face.

Oh, yeh. I remember you now. Sorry about that. I was a bit annoyed and sometimes I lose my rag.

You sure do. I thought you were gonna punch my lights out!

I wouldn’t do that; besides, your eyes are gorgeous, I informed him.

He flushed and looked at his feet.

So are yours, he muttered.

Er…thanks. I’m Derek, by the way. Look; about that strap the other day. Let me explain.

I told him of my initial meeting with Craig and the subsequent phone-calls.

Wow! You pissed off Craig? Shit, your arse is toast, mate, he said, gazing at me wide-eyed.

No it’s not! I just told you; he won’t even speak to me. But you sound like you know him?

Sure I do. Come into the bog with me for a minute.

That’s the best offer I’ve had in ages, I said.

Ethan turned bright red.

I didn’t mean……..I just want to……oh, shit!

I took his arm and propelled him towards the toilets.

Don’t worry. I’m not gonna rape you, I assured him.

He stopped and looked into my eyes.

I don’t think I’d fight very hard if you did, he said softly, and plunged through the door, leaving me standing stunned for a few seconds before I followed him. In a cubicle he dropped his jeans and pants and revealed an exquisite pair of buttocks, fully-rounded, deeply-cleft; and marked with a neat set of eight cane-welts, parallel and close together on his lower bottom.

Fuck!

Guess who did that?

Craig?

Bull’s-eye! Know what I got that for?

I shook my head, and squirmed a bit as my cock struggled to fight its way out of my pants.

I put too much milk in his coffee.

I gaped at him and at his welted buns.

You got eight strokes of the cane for that?

He nodded.

That must’ve hurt like hell, I opined.

I can still feel them when I sit on a hard chair, he vouchsafed. He hits bloody hard.

But you don’t mind getting caned, huh?

Nuh. I need a bit of discipline. So, do you think you’d like to feel the cane, Derek?

I don’t think I could stand a beating like that, I confessed. I was just a bit curious about what the strap would feel like; but I’ve kinda burnt my boats as far as that goes.

Tell you what. I’m going there on Saturday morning. Come with me. I can’t guarantee he’ll let you in; but we could try.

I grinned.

That’d be wicked! Hey! We best get back into the bar or some toe-rag might have pinched our drinks.

Ethan pulled up his clothes and we returned to our table. We chatted for over an hour and we got on so well that, when we got up to go, I decided to be brave and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

What the hell was that? he demanded.

I’m sorry. I just felt like……….

If you’re gonna kiss me, Ethan interrupted, at least do it right.

So saying, he slid an arm round my waist, grabbed a handful of my hair, and gave me a prolonged open-mouth kiss which sent my blood singing through my body, my cock into paroxysms of delight, and set every fibre of my being tingling with desire. As he withdrew his lips from mine there was a small outbreak of applause from a couple of nearby tables. Ethan turned and bowed theatrically and I looked at him in helpless admiration as he made for the bar-door.

Well don’t let him get away, you silly bugger, said a guy at the next table.

I gave myself a shake, as if I couldn’t believe what was happening, and then leapt a table in a single bound and caught Ethan’s hand just as he reached the door.

And keep hold of him, called the irrepressible guy in the bar behind me as we went out.

It was a three minute walk to his home and I held his hand all the way. The walk actually took us almost twenty minutes; but we weren’t sure that we were doing the kisses properly and so had to engage in quite a lot of practice. I left him reluctantly and returned to Colin, who listened eagerly as I recounted my adventures.

Looks like you’ve landed on your feet there, he said. He was pretty stunning as far as I remember.

On Saturday morning Ethan and I met and went together to Craig’s home. It turned out to be a large, detached house sitting in a huge garden.

Hell! The guy must be loaded! I gasped as I ogled the extensive building.

Well his dad sure is, replied Ethan. Craig’s got a pad of his own in a converted stable-block round the back.

We went through an archway into a courtyard and Ethan led me to a door. He pressed the bell and I heard footsteps approaching.

Remember to be polite, hissed Ethan just before the door opened.

Craig looked at us.

Good morning, sir, began Ethan formally. I brought my……..

What the hell’s he doing here? demanded Craig.

I asked Ethan if I could……………… I began; but Craig interrupted.

I wasn’t talking to you! Ethan?

I met Derek in the bar and he was telling me about the strap and how he really wanted to feel it; and I offered to bring him along, sir, because I think he genuinely wants……….

Yeh; sure. He’s messed me about enough. You; get inside, he said to Ethan. You, he continued, looking at me, fuck off!

Ethan gave me a helpless look as he vanished inside and then Craig slammed the door hard in my face. I stood staring at the sun-blistered paintwork on the door for several seconds as I got my anger under control.

I’m not going to lose my temper. I’m going to wait here quietly until Ethan comes out and then make a calm, polite request to speak to Craig; and if he still refuses, then I’ll take Ethan’s hand and walk away.

I sat down on the step in the shade and waited. I strained my ears to hear any sound of Ethan being spanked, but could hear nothing. The minutes slid lazily past and I half-dozed in the warm sunshine, so that I was startled by the sound of the door opening. I leapt to my feet even as Ethan emerged and closed the door behind him.

Aw, shit! I wanted another chance to speak to Craig, I said.

Ethan took my arm and led me out of the courtyard and down the driveway; before suddenly plunging aside into the bushes.

What are we doing in here? I asked.

Kissing, said Ethan, suiting action to word in a most exhilarating display of the delights of his bee-stung lips and squirming, darting tongue.

So how was your spanking? I asked after several minutes.

Good. I got the strap and then the paddle. Six of the best, hard on the bare, with a broad wooden one with holes in it. Stung like fuck and then some, Ethan informed me, caressing his rump reminiscently.

Wow! Can I see?

Sure. Help yourself. You can touch too if you want, he offered.

Touching Ethan’s fully-rounded, taut buttocks was a pleasure beyond words. They were red and there was some light bruising near the top of his thighs.

Looks nasty, I said.

It’s not that bad, you know; and besides, I like it.

Yeh; looks like you do, I said, nodding at his partly-aroused cock.

You should talk, he accused with a grin. You got a boner you could hang a kilo of potatoes on. Seeing my spanked arse got you going, you randy bugger.

I felt myself going red as I glanced down at the considerable bulge in the front of my own denims.

That was you kissing me like a sex-starved maniac that did that, I protested. No wonder I gotta hard-on like a clock-tower.

You liked that, huh, Derek?

Of course I fucking liked it. What’s not to like? A sexy guy with a body like yours; hell, any red-blooded guy’s gonna get it up faster than you can say erection! Come on, I said. Let’s go somewhere that we can give each other a hand.

Oooh boy! I thought you’d never get round to asking, said Ethan as he slid his hand into the back pocket of my jeans and moved his fingers thrillingly in time to the play of my gluteal-muscles as I walked.

Back at the flat, however, we found that Colin was in with some mates, so we decided to head to Ethan’s place instead. He stayed with his olds, but he said they should be out; and indeed when we arrived the house was empty and we went up to Ethan’s bedroom where we soon got tangled up together on his bed; and it wasn’t long before neither of us was wearing anything but his briefs. Ethan placed his hands at the waistband of mine and, even as he eased them down over my tumescent penis, I heard the sound of the front-door and a chatter of female voices.

Shit! Mum’s back; and with friends by the sound of it, Ethan said as we both struggled to get our jeans and t-shirts back on.

You said they’d be out, I hissed angrily.

I said they should be out, corrected Ethan.

Oh yeh! And so I’m left with my cock up and my balls near bursting just because you don’t know what your fucking mother’s doing!

Don’t you talk about my mum like that, Ethan riposted.

That’s right! All hang together! Happy fucking families!

Aw, c’mon, Dek. It’s just bad luck. And I’m frustrated too, you know.

Oh well; we can’t have you all frustrated, can we? I said selfishly and sarcastically.

Dek! Ethan protested, sounding hurt.

Look; is your mum likely to come into your room? I asked.

No, Ethan conceded, but she might. I can’t risk it, Dek.

Okay; suppose we lock the door? Then if your mum does come up, we got time to get some clothes back on before you open it? I suggested.

But there’s no key, said Ethan.

Why the hell not? I demanded furiously and unreasonably. You’re bloody useless. I’m outta here!

I slammed the bedroom door behind me, bounded down the stairs two at a time, glared at Ethan’s mum and her friends as I passed them in the hall, and headed out into the street.

Relieving pent-up feelings in my bed that night, I was angry at how I seemed to be experiencing frustration at every turn. Each time I tried to get Craig to leather me, I was stymied; and now I couldn’t even get my rocks off with Ethan. Not that I wanted him any more anyway. Or rather, once I’d cooled down, the guilt set in. I knew I’d treated him badly and I was too embarrassed to speak to him. I kept well out of his way over the next few days and if we came within sight of each other, I turned away. Once, I thought I heard him say my name as I stalked past along a corridor, but I didn’t stop.

By the end of the week, I was thinking increasingly about Craig and that leather strap, which still lay under my pillow. Colin said I should have another go.

Just be calm, Dek. Don’t go off at half-cock. You create most of your own problems because you can’t keep your temper in check, he said.

Look, I don’t need you talking like a bloody bishop, and telling me…….

See? You’re doing it again, pointed out Colin.

Go screw yourself! I shouted and headed out.

All the same, I conceded to myself later that he was right and that I needed to have another go at Craig. On Saturday morning, with the strap coiled in the pocket of my jeans, I went up to his house and round towards the courtyard where his pad was. As I did so, he emerged from one of the sheds on the opposite side and made for his front door. I could have sworn that he saw me; but if he did, he gave no sign and strode into his house and closed the door firmly. I felt a rising tide of anger at the casual way he ignored me. I ran up to the door and pressed the bell hard and then waited. Nothing happened. I tried again, but with no result.

The bastard! He knows I’m here; and I know he’s in there. Well, I’m not going away. I’ll make him answer this bloody door if I have to ring his bell for the rest of the day.

I put my finger to the bell and gave it a very long ring. Nothing happened; but I thought that maybe I detected a slight movement through the frosted-glass panel in the centre of the door.

The bugger’s there! Right! I’ll teach him to ignore me!

I gave the bell what was by far the longest ring yet before withdrawing my finger. The bell continued to ring. I jabbed at it repeatedly, but it appeared to have jammed; and still the bell rang. I tried to insert my nail at the edge of the button, but to no avail. It wouldn’t budge and the ringing went on and on. I’d just decided to go away when the door was wrenched open and a furious-looking Craig burst out.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? he yelled at me.

I’m sorry; but it’s not my fault. The bell just jammed, I protested.

Craig went inside and a few seconds later the ringing stopped. He re-emerged.

I turned off the power, he said. So what do you want? As if I don’t know.

So why can’t I have it? I asked. I’ve said I’m sorry about messing you about before. I’ve said it until I’m blue in the face.

You want a spanking with that little leather strap, huh? You’ve brought it back to me? Okay. I’ve changed my mind. I’ll spank you after all. Come in.

I stared at him, momentarily taken aback; and then I followed him into a large lounge. He took the strap from me.

This what you want me to leather your tail with? he asked.

Yes, please, I said, wondering at the incongruity of conventional manners when requesting something as unconventional as a spanking.

He slapped the leather hard against his palm and I flinched.

Get your jeans off, he said curtly.

I complied and stood uneasily but fully-aroused, with only my briefs for protection. Craig sat in the centre of the sofa and beckoned me to come and lie across his knees. I did so, manoeuvring myself awkwardly into the unfamiliar position. He stroked my buttocks with his hand, feeling its contours.

Very nice, he said softly as if to himself. Exquisitely-formed; fully-rounded; just begging to be spanked.

My cock roared at these words, thrusting forward instinctively against his thigh. He began to spank me with his hand, steadily covering my whole behind until I could feel it glowing and burning. Never had I experienced anything like it. I loved it. I wanted more of it. Craig, however, intended to move on. He told me to raise my hips and he pulled down my briefs. His hand rested for a few seconds on the crown of my behind and then he resumed spanking. On the bare it stung more and I felt the heat rising. The pain was exquisite, driving my cock wild, making me moan and pant in ecstatic delight. Some of the spanks were aimed at my upper thighs and hurt more than I’d have expected; but I revelled in the pain. I’d never have believed that being spanked could be as good as this.

Now I think you’re ready for the strap, said Craig, picking it up and holding it in front of my face so that I could see what he was going to give me.

I felt a pang of doubt but squashed it swiftly. Craig slid the strap sensuously across my bottom, the leather thrilling on my bare skin; and then he snapped it on the lower half of my right buttock. A fierce sting flared across the flesh, and then died away. He repeated it over and over, covering my bottom and extracting a series of gasps and groans, yelps and squeals, as the fire of the strap burnt its way into my body and drove me half-crazy with pleasure and pain, mingled and screwed up to an intensity which took all my attention and enclosed me in a world of flame where the blaze in my bottom was everything; and I wanted nothing more.

When he stopped I felt exhausted, wrung out like a wet towel. I lay limply across his lap and steadied my breathing. More than anything else now I wanted release. My balls were swollen with spunk; my penis was long, rigid, throbbing with desperate need. I looked round at Craig.

That was incredible. Could I……you know…….wank myself off?

Stand up.

I rose to my feet and stood with my hands carefully exploring my hot, leathered buttocks. Craig flicked my towering erection with his strap and I flinched.

Randy young bugger, aren’t you? he said. But don’t worry. I’ll deal with that for you.

Wow! Thanks!

He stood up and crossed to a cupboard from which he took a cane. A sudden panic shook me like a violent gust of wind.

I’ll soon get rid of your erection for you, Craig informed me, smiling. After I’ve caned you, your cock will be as limp as a piece of ancient celery.

But I don’t want to be caned, I protested. The spanking was great and that strap was brilliant.

And my cane, said Craig, still smiling, will be excruciating.

But I……..

You didn’t really think that after you’d made such a bloody nuisance of yourself; messed me about; and finally broken my door-bell, that I’d suddenly changed my mind about introducing you to spanking, out of the goodness of my heart, did you?

Well, I……..

You loved being spanked, didn’t you?

Yeh. I told you.

And you’d love to come back for more very soon, wouldn’t you?

Yeh; definitely.

You’ve got a good pair of buns there and I enjoyed spanking you; and I’d like to see you back again very soon too; but first we’ve got to deal with your bad behaviour. You’ve had your fun; now you’re going to be punished. With this, he ended, slamming the cane down with terrifying power on the seat of an old leather armchair. The crack echoed round the room and I jumped in alarm.

No!

Don’t you think that you deserve it, Derek?

I….well, I know I was a bit outta line and that……but hey! I’m a guy. I’m not perfect. You can’t cane me for breaking your door-bell. Hell, it even sounds like a stupid reason for a caning!

Oh, I think you know better than that, Derek. The door-bell is just the culmination of your bad behaviour. I’m not going to beat you for that. I’m going to beat you for being a snotty little toe-rag who’s so taken up with himself that it’s a wonder he doesn’t disappear up his own arse-hole; and who isn’t mature enough to control his own temper and feelings; and who wanted to use me for his own selfish pleasure and when I didn’t play ball, behaved like the spoiled young brat that he is.

You finished? I demanded sarcastically. No other faults you’d like to bring up?

Yes, said Craig calmly, there is something else. There’s Ethan.

What’s Ethan got to do with the price of fish? I enquired.

Ethan is a great guy, said Craig. He looks good; he’s sexy as hell; and he’s fun, kind, good-natured and decent.

So?

So a selfish, arrogant, young egomaniac like you, who can’t keep his temper under control, doesn’t deserve him, said Craig.

Listen; what goes on between me and Ethan’s our business, so you keep your fucking nose out of it, okay? I retorted, firing up at the criticism.

Oh, it is my business, Derek, when Ethan comes to me and tells me all about your appalling behaviour, and ends up in tears because he’s so upset at losing you. I like Ethan; and I’m bloody furious with you at the way you’ve treated him.

Tears? I asked.

Not that you’d care, said Craig.

Over losing me?

Heaven knows why, said Craig, rolling his eyes.

I turned away as the memory of the scene in Ethan’s bedroom, which I’d been repeatedly and determinedly repressing for days, came flooding back; and the folly of my own behaviour hit me hard. It hit me so hard that it hurt. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt in my whole life. On a sudden it was as if a curtain had been torn violently aside, and I saw myself exposed for what I was; and even worse, I saw Ethan as the decent, loving, forgiving boy that he was; and the contrast made me deeply ashamed. I looked at Craig.

Do you…do you think I can sort things out with him? I blurted out abruptly.

First of all, I’m going to sort you out, said Craig grimly. Now, are you ready to be caned? Eight strokes, hard on the bare.

Eight strokes? Not fucking likely, mate.

I’ll give you extra for language like that, said Craig calmly. Ten strokes. Now bend over the back of that chair.

No way! I’m not daft. You’re not gonna beat my arse with that ruddy cane.

I’m waiting. You’ve already got ten strokes coming. Make me wait more than three seconds, and I’ll make it eleven.

Eleven? With a cane on my bare arse? You outta your tree? Why would I take that?

Because you need it to make you into a better boy. You’ve behaved badly and you have to be punished so that in future you’ll modify your behaviour. You’ve got a fantastic boyfriend there in Ethan; and he deserves better than the kind of boy you are just now. And deep down, Derek, you know it. Don’t you?

I……I……

Suddenly and inexplicably I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. I blinked angrily.

You don’t think I’m good enough for Ethan?

Do you?

I stared at him in sullen silence.

You’re up to eleven now, since you’re still making me wait. Bend over, Derek.

Couldn’t I just come back for another spanking tomorrow with the strap?

Bend over.

Eleven’s a hell of a lot, I pleaded. Couldn’t you just give me six….or even four? I’ve never been caned before.

Bend over.

Eight then? That’s a lot for a first time. I don’t think that I could take more than that and I…….

I stopped. It had just dawned on me that I had accepted that he was going to cane me and I was going to submit to it. I tried to work out how that had happened without me realising; but I couldn’t quite see it. I looked at Craig. He was standing in front of me, the cane bent into a smooth arc as he held it between his hands. His eyes moved to the side, indicating the back of the armchair.

Eight? I pleaded softly.

Craig’s expression was implacable. I felt that I was running up against a brick wall, and suddenly my temper snapped.

Oh all right! I yelled furiously at him. Go on then. Cane the living fuck outta me! See if I care!

I threw myself violently over the back of the armchair, bottom in the air.

There you are! I’m bent over, see? So……you gonna beat me?

You really do have a problem with that temper of yours, don’t you? said Craig with infuriating calm. But the answer to your question is yes; I am going to beat you; and you are going to feel it. You’re getting eleven hard strokes with my cane and I promise you that they’ll hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt in your life. But you’re going to stay in position until I’m done and I tell you to stand up. Is that clear, Derek?

I took a deep breath and brought myself under control.

Yes, I said sulkily. Just get on with it.

He tapped my rump several times with the cane. I wondered what to expect. Never having been caned before, I had no idea of the kind of pain that he was going to inflict on me. That it would hurt a lot was beyond question, but exactly how it would feel remained an unknown. Not for much longer. The cane was lifted away and I heard it sing as it descended and lashed hard across the centre of my bottom. For a split second I registered only the powerful impact; and then an intense pain seared deep into my flesh. I clenched my buttocks hard and rode it, relaxing my glutes carefully as the burn ebbed.

I waited, tense, anxious, armed with knowledge now, but fearful as a result about my ability to cope. The cane whipped across me again, just a little lower down and that same fierce pain streaked across my rump and then slowly eased. He hit me a third time, lower still, and the fire was more intense, forcing me to take a swift, audible breath. My buttocks were quivering.

Getting through to you, am I? asked Craig.

I said nothing and instantly regretted it, as the cane was flicked hard across the backs of my legs causing me to jump and let out a yelp.

Well?

Yes, I responded sullenly.

Good. That wasn’t one of your eleven, by the way. How many have you still to get?

Eight, I answered.

He slid the cane over the three parallel welts on my bottom and I winced just at the light touch. Could he be intending to land a stroke there, on the throbbing, tender flesh? I gripped the cushion very hard indeed with both hands and gritted my teeth. The cane was lifted away and I held my breath. He was still moving down, etching a fourth weal on my behind, pulsing with its own load of pain. I forced myself to remain absolutely silent. The next stroke was coming perilously close to my crease and I felt the pain more acutely on the more tender skin. I heard myself groan as I fought the burn.

A boy is more sensitive on that band of skin where his bottom merges into the tops of his legs than anywhere else on his buttocks, and Craig drove his cane viciously hard into that strip of flesh. Pain exploded with a ferocity which took my breath away, so that for a moment my mouth was open but no sound came out; and then I yelled and reached round with my right hand, scrubbing desperately at the tortured skin. My whole body was shaking and I was breathing hard, as if I’d just sprinted a hundred metres.

Felt that, didn’t you? observed Craig.

Yes, I panted, knowing that I daren’t fail to respond.

Get that hand away. I’m going to be lenient and let you off with a warning, since this is your first caning; but if you put either of your hands anywhere near your bottom again, the stroke will be repeated. Understand me?

Yes, I whispered.

The cane was exploring my bottom, gliding smoothly from crown to crease, as if trying to decide where to detonate the next pain-bomb. I was breathing hard, and I couldn’t still the quiver in my lower body. Across my bottom the fires blazed on relentlessly. Before I was ready the cane lashed me a seventh time, on a diagonal cross-cutting most of the earlier welts. I squealed and writhed, gripping the cushion in desperation to avoid touching my ravaged behind, twisting from the waist as my bottom dipped towards my heels while I struggled to process the agonising pain. My breathing was ragged and noisy; my bottom was a seething mass of churning fire; my body was stretched taut as a bow-string in fearful anticipation at what was yet to come.

It felt as though he bounced the cane off my bottom, making it connect with a vicious snap just above where the first stroke had landed, and delivering a lance of pain which scored its way across my skin. I yelped and bucked, gasped and steadied. The ninth returned to the assault on my crease, whipping the quivering flesh with a lash of liquid fire.

Fuck!

The expletive was forced out of me on a gust of violently-expelled breath. I bit hard on the chair cushion as the inferno raged across my rear.

What did you say?

I was aware that Craig was addressing me and I tried to gather my scattered wits and focus. He repeated the question and I realised that I’d committed another sin, possibly worse than rubbing my bottom.

I’m sorry. It just came out.

You’ll take that stroke again, said Craig remorselessly. And you’ll learn not to swear when I’m beating you.

I felt him lining up the cane before he drove it hard into the centre of my behind, firing at least two of the earlier weals, and making me drum my feet on the floor.

Two still to come, Craig informed me, as if I didn’t know. Keep still.

He sent his cane very low, so that the tip of the rod bit cruelly into the top of my right leg. I yelped and stretched out the leg horizontally behind me as I absorbed the agonising sting. Even as I brought my foot back to the floor, he was tapping my buttocks with the cane yet again before bringing it down once more on the diagonal, barring the band of pulsing welts with a line of excoriating agony. I yelled. I writhed. My breath came in choking sobs. Sweat and tears trickled, mingling, down my face. My body trembled, wracked with a pain it had never before experienced. As the worst slowly ebbed away, I relaxed and lay slumped over the chair-back.

It was then that it happened. Like a tide flowing in swiftly over the sands, a sense of euphoria spread through me. I felt a wave of elation, a triumphant tsunami of achievement. I’d done it; and I was still alive. My fire-blasted buttocks still sizzled with pain, but beneath me my penis was slowly but steadily filling with blood and hardening into an erection of which any boy would be proud.

Stand up; hands on your head. Touch your arse and I’ll give you another six, warned Craig grimly.

Wincing, I straightened and placed my hands on top of my head. Craig came round in front of me, arching his cane slowly. For some time he just watched me as I stood there regaining control of my beaten body. He suddenly rapped my erection with his cane.

So you liked it, huh?

No, I didn’t. It was horrendous, I told him.

But you feel good now that you’ve taken it?

I conceded that I did, the evidence of my arousal being impossible to conceal as I stood before him.

Don’t move, ordered Craig, and he left the room.

Even although I knew he couldn’t see me, I resisted the temptation to touch my buttocks. I was left alone, standing there, bottom burning like a beacon in the night, for several minutes before he returned and issued a curt command to me to get dressed. I pulled up my underpants, wincing as the material touched the battered flesh; and then carefully eased my jeans over my rump and buckled my belt. I was then sent to stand in the corner of the room, facing the wall, hands clasped behind me at my waist, and warned that if he saw a muscle move or heard a single sound, I’d get another beating. The minutes inched painfully by and I remained submissive, motionless, silent, freshly-caned and sore. Above all, however, I felt a growing sense of guilt as thoughts of Ethan flitted persistently across my consciousness. I resolved to make herculean efforts in future to keep my temper very firmly in check.

There was a sound of knocking at the door and Craig went out. He didn’t remind me not to move. I think he already knew that he didn’t need to. It was only a few seconds later that I heard the door open and he came and stood right behind me. I felt his breath hot on my neck.

You’re fucking gorgeous when you’ve just been beaten, said a voice; but it was the voice of Ethan.

I turned then, and he took me in his arms and hugged me until I thought he’d drive the breath from my body. I disentangled myself and held him at arms– length, gazing into his dancing eyes.

But…but what are you doing here? I asked.

Craig called me a few minutes ago. Said you’d come round and lost your rag again and broken his door-bell; so he’d given you a beating and thought you might want me to console you, explained Ethan.

But I was so unreasonable to you; and I really fucked up; and I lost it and……..and you didn’t deserve to be treated like………

Hell! Isn’t it enough for Craig to beat the shit outta you? Do you have to beat yourself up as well, Dek? he interrupted.

Craig’s right, I whispered, feeling my eyes swimming. I don’t deserve you.

His response was to close his sensuous mouth on mine; and soon we were lost, plunged fathoms deep in a kiss which sent sensations of exquisite delight from my scalp to the soles of my feet. Surfacing at last, we looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

So, you got your first spanking, huh? asked Ethan. Used that little leather strap on you, did he?

Yeh. It was brilliant. I loved it. Had a stiffie like a flagpole.

You’ll be back for more?

I dunno. I mean, I want to; but I’m not sure about Craig. He was mightily pissed off with me losing it again, I said.

He’ll be fine. I’d love to get spanked alongside you, Dek.

Yeh; but there’s more. You said he told you he’d beaten me, yeh?

Yeh. I reckoned he’d given you a bloody good spanking, said Ethan.

He did more than that.

Ethan looked straight into my eyes and I saw there a rising concern.

Tell me, Dek.

He caned me, Ethan. Fucking hard. It was agony. He said I had to be punished for losing my rag and…and hurting you. And did punish me, Ethan. Ferociously.

Ethan slid a hand down to my rump and caressed the seat of my denims; and I winced at his touch. His eyes opened wide.

You gonna let me see?

I don’t think it’ll be a pretty sight.

Ethan said nothing, but began to unbuckle my belt. I tried to do it myself, but he slapped my hand away and gave me a look which said plainly that he was in charge for the moment. I capitulated willingly. He opened my denims and slid them carefully to my ankles. He then removed my trainers and made me step out of the jeans. Finally he put his hands to the waist-band of my briefs and eased them down. I gasped as the fabric moved over my welted rear.

Sorry, whispered Ethan as he pulled them to my ankles and then I stepped out of them.

He was kneeling at my feet to do this and he remained on his knees as he slowly but firmly turned me round so that he was looking straight at my freshly caned bottom. I heard his sharp intake of breath as he saw the marks of Craig’s cane on my behind. He didn’t ask permission to touch, but with infinite gentleness began to lick the still-tender welts with the tip of his tongue. I moaned with pleasure as he worked, and my penis strained for the ceiling. He didn’t hurry and it was a long time before at last he stopped. Throughout, he’d been unable to speak because of what he was doing, and I remained silent, giving myself to his ministrations. Finally, he stood up and turned me to face him. There were tears shining in his eyes. I very gently kissed each eye in turn, pushing my tongue-tip into the corner and tasting the salty fluid.

I never got a caning like that, said Ethan at last. What do you think about it?

It wasn’t the question I was expecting.

I think I deserved it, I admitted.

Ethan resumed licking my welts, but while he did so, his hands slipped round in front of me and one cupped my balls, the thumb stroking them carefully, while the other clasped my penis and drew the skin repeatedly back while occasionally brushing the pad of a finger across the exposed tip until he had me quivering on the brink of release, like a diver poised ready at the very edge of the diving-board.

Not getting to fuck the other day was pretty frustrating, said Ethan, so maybe we’d best do it now and then there’s no danger of you losing your rag because of sexual tensions.

Fuck? Here? But if Craig catches us he’ll skin us alive, I protested. Honest, Ethan, I couldn’t stand another beating like that today.

Hey! Craig asked me to come here for you, said Ethan. He’s not stupid. He knows fine what we’re gonna do.

And you want to? With me, I mean? Even after the way I treated you? Even when my arse is like a beetroot?

Especially when your arse is like a beetroot. You’re sexy as hell any time; but when you’ve just had the shit caned outta you; boy! you are unbelievable!

I stripped him slowly, and when he was standing naked before me in all his stunning male glory, penis at full stretch, eyes dancing, lips parted, his whole body quivering like a volcano about to erupt, I reached forward and kissed him with infinite gentleness on the mouth and felt a tremor like an electric-current thrill through my being. I made to kiss him again, but he touched a finger to my lips and then proceeded to bare my body. We stood face-to-face, hands on each other’s shoulders, and then slid forward until our chests touched and our cocks bounced together. The kiss which ensued was deep, passionate, erotic and powerfully intimate. When we emerged from its depths, we were already in the grip of potent forces beyond our control. In a frenzy of lust-fuelled exploration of our nude bodies, we collapsed on to the floor and writhed together in paroxysms of ecstatic delight.

Ethan pushed me on to my back and I yelped as my caned buttocks touched the floor; but he didn’t offer the apology I expected. Instead he told me to be quiet and then he knelt across my chest, facing down my tummy, leaned forward and began to lick my throbbing penis. His tongue flicked this way and that in teasing motions which drove me half crazy. I wriggled, I beat a tattoo of frustration on his back, I winced as my bottom was pressed hard to the carpet, and I tried desperately to achieve a climax. Ethan, however, denied me repeatedly. Just as I thought I’d got to the point of no return, he reached a hand between my legs and pressed hard on my perineum, bringing things to a halt. He took my cock in his mouth and continued to lick; and then slid his lips all the way to my penis’ roots so that I felt that I was half way down his throat. This time he allowed me to go all the way and my balls exploded in an orgasm which made my head spin and the room, for a few seconds, seem to disappear. My body pumped out its load of boy-cream until there seemed nothing more to come; and then gradually I lay still, panting, fulfilled and utterly content.

Ethan released my cock, sat up, turned round to kneel again astride my chest, but this time looking into my eyes. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the floor either side of my head and we indulged in a very long series of kisses. After we had come up for air, Ethan looked at me.

So, you gonna let me get my rocks off too, huh?

Yeh. Of course I am! You want me to do the same for you? I asked.

Ethan shook his head.

I want you to take me up the arse, he said. And after that caning, it’s gonna hurt.

I didn’t care. If that’s what he wanted, then he could do it.

Okay. Get off me.

He stood up and I rolled over on my chest and presented him with my bottom.

It’s yours. Hard as you like.

He wasted no time and his thighs pressing on my beaten flesh gave me pain which was delight. He entered carefully but determinedly and soon his pubic hair was scratching at my tender buttocks as I took the full pulsating length of him. When he thrust, his body pounded relentlessly against my caned rump and I caught his rhythm and tightened my anal-muscles in time to his thrusts, while the pain became pleasure and all that mattered was that he got what he wanted. I felt his spunk spurting deep within me and when the final orgasmic contraction died away, his body relaxed and he was heavy and fulfilled upon me.

You liked? he asked eventually, his lips at my ear and the words released on a breath of air.

Oh yeh!

Hurt?

Yeh; but no. See, I wanted it to hurt because it was you and I wanted you to have my arse; and it didn’t really hurt because I loved feeling you taking me like that, I told him.

I heard the door opening and a pang of anxiety streaked through me.

Okay, guys? asked Craig.

More than okay, replied Ethan.

Definitely, I added.

Stand up then, both of you.

Ethan lifted himself from me and we both got to our feet and stood rather shyly side-by-side, hands behind our backs. I took hold of one of Ethan’s hands and he squeezed it hard and continued to hold it.

No more bad temper, Derek?

No. I’ll try very hard to be good and keep it under control.

You know what I’ll do to you if you fail?

Yeh; I know. You’ll punish me.

Tell me.

You’ll beat the living fuck outta me; even harder than last time.

Much harder than last time, Derek. Understand?

Yeh. I got it.

I became aware that Ethan was gazing at me with shining eyes and almost dog-like devotion.

Look, I’m not worth……. I began and then was silenced as Ethan’s mouth closed on mine and his lively tongue pushed its way down my throat.

You were saying? asked Ethan with a mischievous grin when we paused for breath. That you’re not worth my adoration, huh? Right then; just listen. You’re gonna be worth it from now on, cos if you’re not, I’ll be asking Craig to cane you until you can’t sit down. Okay, Dek?

I slid my tongue carefully along his lips and pushed my erection against his groin. I felt his hands slide down from my shoulders to my bottom and pull me hard against him. His breath was hot on my face and his eyes were dark with urgent desire.

Okay, I said softly.

The kiss lasted for a very long time and was ended by Craig pulling us apart, firmly but gently by the hair. He looked into our faces.

Right, I want to see both of you back here in a fortnight’s time for spanking. Now I’ve got something for you. Come with me.

We followed him to a small room at the back of the building, still holding hands and glancing coyly at each other as we walked. Our cocks were fully erect once more and I was aching to get tangled up on the floor with Ethan again. The room appeared to be some kind of workshop and we were led to a bench where there lay a short leather strap, similar to the one Craig had originally given to me in the pub. He picked up a small tool, switched on the power, and began carefully to etch the name Derek near the handle of the strap. He then turned it over and etched Ethan’s name on the other side. Ethan and I grinned at each other.

Reckon that’s for our bums, huh? asked Ethan.

It’s got our names on it, I agreed.

Craig made us stand face-to-face, hands behind us and he held the strap between our mouths and told us to hold it lightly with our lips. I placed my lips on the flat leather and pushed it gently against Ethan’s lips which applied careful pressure from the other side.

Don’t move, boys. Just stand and think about being spanked.

It was incredibly sexy standing there like that, only the thickness of the strap separating our lips, and the scent of leather in our nostrils. We couldn’t speak but our eyes exchanged intimate details of what we wanted to do to each other; and by moving carefully we could rub our bounding cocks together without attracting Craig’s attention.

He left us standing thus for several minutes before removing the strap and handing it to me.

The only reason you’re getting a fortnight before I tan your hides, is that I think Derek will need a bit longer to recover from being caned; but after that you’ll come here every week. You’ll always bring the strap with you and, whatever else I use to spank you, you’ll each get a good dose of that at every session. One of you will take it home and keep it one week and the other the following week. You won’t hide it away. It will sit out on clear view in your bedroom when it’s your turn to keep it; and it will remind you that you’ve been spanked and that you’re going to be spanked. Understand? asked Craig.

We nodded.

Okay; get your kit back on.

We dressed reluctantly and were then escorted to the door by Craig. Ethan was holding the strap as we walked out of the courtyard and down the drive to the road. We took hands as we walked.

Happy? asked Ethan.

Yeh!

He held up the strap.

And you’re happy about this?

Oh yeh! I wanna be spanked.

And it’s good that you’re really going to try hard to get your temper under control, said Ethan. You will try hard, won’t you, Dek? he asked and his eyes were anxious.

I promise, I assured him. I’ve learnt a very painful lesson.

Yeh. That was some caning you got; but I’m glad it’s cured you.

Cured me? The caning? No way! That was just punishment; and I deserved it for the way I’ve been behaving.

Ethan stopped and stared at me.

But you said you just learnt a painful lesson, he objected.

I did. Craig told me how upset you’d been at me losing my rag and storming out on you for no sensible reason, and…….and that you….you were crying about losing me.

But I don’t understand, said Ethan.

I treated you like shit; and you were upset about me; and when he said you were in tears…….Ethan, that hurt worse than anything I ever felt in all my life; far worse than the caning. It was like my heart was torn out of my chest and forced through a mincer. I’ve never ever felt so bad and so….so disgusted with myself. I know I don’t deserve you; but I decided then that I was gonna do everything I could to behave better and keep my temper.

I felt my eyes swimming and blew my nose hard. Ethan kissed me on the mouth, softly and gently.

I’ll try to deserve you, I swore quietly. That guy in the Well-Hung Boy was right. He said I shouldn’t let you get away; and I won’t. Never again.

We’ll be fine, said Ethan. Remember that strap Craig gave us? We’re gonna bend over and get it side-by-side every week, and it’s gonna keep us together.

I ran my hand through his hair and grinned at him.

If they’re together for the leather, boys will stay together, huh?

A dazzling smile lit up Ethan’s face and his eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine.

Yeh, he said, and besides, I love you.

These three unexpected words seared me, scoring a furrow of glowing elation across my psyche; and I was silenced. I kissed him and we walked hand-in-hand towards the town.