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A brand new story, set on New Year’s Day, by very special guest author JOELSTRAP.  This story is currently exclusive to The Canery!  All the characters are 18 or older. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!

 

The Gate Of The Year by Joelstrap

Half-blinded by tears and fury, I kicked the stone hard into the pond and the ducks, which had clustered round expecting bread, scattered in alarm with much flapping and splashing. I took aim at another stone.

“Don’t you kick that stone, boy!”

I whirled round angrily, ready to do battle.

“Listen, mate, I’ll kick all the bloody stones I want to and you can go and……….”

I came to an abrupt halt as I took in the guy who had addressed me so peremptorily. He stood just on six feet and was clad entirely in black leather from his boots to his trousers and jacket. A heavily-studded belt girt his waist and a knotted leather thong hung round his neck. Close-cropped black hair added to the slightly menacing look, as did the dark shadow along his upper lip and chin.

“Yes?” he enquired softly. “I can go and do what?”

“Nothing,” I replied swiftly, accepting that he was an inch taller and a good bit broader and heftier than I was.

“You going to kick any more stones at the ducks?”

“I wasn’t kicking the stone at the flaming ducks! I was just kicking it into the pond!”

“I know a very good optician and I could……”

“What!?” I interrupted rudely.

“If you couldn’t see the ducks right there in front of you,” he continued quietly, “maybe you need glasses.”

“I don’t need fucking glasses!”

“So you did see the ducks?”

“Of course I saw them! I wasn’t aiming at them!”

He raised his black eyebrows. I looked away and then back at his face.

“Okay!” I admitted sulkily, “I was being thoughtless and stupid and selfish. Satisfied?”

“You are a bad-tempered brat, aren’t you?” he observed. “Maybe I should beat the living shit out of you.”

“Like hell you will!”

“You don’t want me to beat you?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“A perfectly natural one. I think you need a good beating to improve your behaviour. Unfortunately I can’t give you one unless you consent; so I’m asking,” he replied, making it sound as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“You think I need a beating?” I asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Look, chum, I’ve no idea who you are, but there’s no way I need to be beaten and there’s no way you’re going to beat me, okay?”

“So who did you fall out with? Brother, friend, boyfriend?” he enquired.

“Why the hell do you think I fell out with anyone?” I flared, taking a step closer to him and balling my fists, rage making me over-confident.

He wasn’t intimidated, and simply said, “Maybe the young lad who cannoned into me as I came into the park, and didn’t even have the good manners to say sorry?”

“Nicky bumped into you?”

“Ah! Nicky is it? Hmm. Let me guess. Boyfriend; and you had an argument and he stormed off?”

“It wasn’t an argument and we………hey! This is none of your fucking business!”

“Sit down and tell me, then,” he commanded and pointed to a bench at the edge of the duck-pond.

I glared at him briefly, turned on my heel, and began to stride away.

“Come back and sit down,” he said, so softly that I only just heard him.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” I hissed furiously.

“I just did,” said he calmly. “Now, the real question is, are you going to do it?”

“I suppose you’re gonna beat me if I don’t?” I enquired sarcastically.

“Just sit!”

To this day I don’t know why I sat; but I did.

He came and sat beside me and asked my name and age.

“I’m Simon. I’m eighteen,” I replied meekly.

“So, Simon, tell me about Nicky.”

I decided that perhaps to tell a stranger, whom I’d probably never see again, might be quite a good idea.

“He broke up with me,” I said. “Arranged to meet me here because he said he had something to tell me; and then the two-faced little bastard says he’s been seeing another boy for the past three weeks and would rather be with him. Great start to the year, huh? First day of January and the sadistic bugger does this to me! Happy New Year….and I don’t think!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “So, what are you going to do now? Take it out on a few more innocent ducks?”

I leapt to my feet, ablaze with anger.

“Are you bloody thick or something?” I stormed. “I wasn’t aiming at the bloody ducks! Now fuck off, and leave me alone!”

He continued to sit there, looking up at me, a slight smile on his sexy features. I made a big effort and resisted the urge to punch him on the nose. Instead I took a deep breath, turned and ran away towards the shrubbery. I was aware that there were hot tears trickling down my face, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get out of his sight among the bushes. I heard a thumping sound and realised that he was pursuing me; and that he was a faster runner than I was. I was within a few yards of the shrubbery when he rugby-tackled me to the ground and I found myself face-down, with his weight pinning me to the wet grass.

“Get off me!” I snarled furiously.

“Why?”

“Because it’s bloody assault, that’s why!” I yelled, turning my head to try to look into his face.

“It’s a rugby-tackle. That’s legal. It’s not assault.”

“It’s assault if it’s not during a game,” I protested. “In the middle of the bloody park and no rugby-ball in sight, it’s fucking assault!”

“So you’re objecting?”

“Of course I’m objecting!”

“Balls! Now, are you gonna grow up and talk to me sensibly?”

I couldn’t believe him!

“I’m not a little boy!”

“Yeh? Okay. Come back to the bench and sit down again.”

He rose to his feet in one swift bound and I followed more slowly.

“Look at my clothes,” I protested, “all damp and muddy.”

“Boo-hoo!”

“You don’t care, do you?”

“Not a whit.”

“A what?”

“A whit.”

I gave myself a shake, stalked over to the bench and sat down and waited until he came and sat beside me.

“You were going to tell me what you were going to do now,” he prompted.

“I’m going round to that slimy toad’s house to tell him what I think of him.”

“Haven’t you done that already?”

“Well, yeh, but…..”

“So, what good’s telling him again going to do?”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“You sure?”

“Well, what else can I do? He betrayed me, the lying sneaking bastard!”

“Yeh. You said. I get it. He’s a skunk. Now forget him and tell me what you’re going to do next.”

“I won’t be accepting any apology from him if it all goes pear-shaped with his new boyfriend. He needn’t think he can come crawling back to me like the snake he is.”

“So what you gonna do?”

“Do you know, I gave him a great Christmas-present and all he gave me was a bar of chocolate! Course he was already with the new bugger and probably spent all his money on him. Rat-arsed shit-bag!”

The guy suddenly stood up and planted himself right in front of me, tall, leather-black, menacing. He lifted his right foot and placed the sole of his boot between my legs, pressing firmly on my balls.

“Get the fuck off!” I gasped.

“Are you listening to me?”

His boot pressed much harder and I tensed and held my breath, gazing nervously at him.

“Yes,” I panted.

“Right. I’ve asked you several times about what you’re going to do and all you’ve done is hark back to the past. I’m asking you to look forward. Fuck Nicky. He’s history. He’s last year. What are you gonna do this year?”

The pressure on my balls was a dull ache.

“I…..I think I want to find a new boyfriend.”

“Great!”

He suddenly removed his boot and replaced his foot on the ground. I caressed my testicles carefully.

“That was bloody sore,” I complained sullenly.

He shrugged.

“Who’s caring? Right. You want a new boyfriend; and you’ve got one.”

I looked round, startled, as if a boy would suddenly materialise out of the deserted park.

“Me,” he said.

“You?”

“Don’t think I’m good-looking enough?”

“I didn’t say…..”

“Not sexy enough for you?”

“I never said…….”

“Want me to go away, right now?”

“Yes….no……how the hell do I know?” I burst out angrily. “Who are you anyway?”

He held out his hand to me and “Janus,” he announced formally. “Twenty years old, stunningly attractive and superbly modest. Pleased to meet you, Simon.”

In spite of myself, I cracked a little smile at his words as I extended my hand and shook his.

“Janus is a funny name,” I observed.

“My birthday is today, New Year’s Day,” he replied, as if this was an explanation.

I looked blankly at him. He placed a hand on my thigh, well up towards my crotch and a thrill streaked through me. I gasped aloud and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Stop it!”

“Don’t you like me?”

“Yes, no, look just leave me alone.”

“Take your hand off my wrist.”

Slowly I obeyed.

“Now think carefully. Do you really want me to remove my hand from your thigh?”

I was painfully aware that I had a massive swelling in the front of my denims and he couldn’t possibly have missed it either. I shook my head.

“Good. Now listen. Janus is the name of a Roman god. He had two faces, one looking backwards and the other forwards. He was the god of beginnings and doorways and gateways, and of course of the new year, because he perched between the past and the future, looking both ways. His name, and the name January, are related to a Latin word ianua which means door. This month is the doorway of the new year, with the past year behind it and the new year in front.”

“So that’s why you’re called Janus? Because you’re at the doorway between the old and the new year?”

“Yup. And so are you today. You’ve got to look back or look forward; back to Nicky….”

“….the cheating bastard!”

“…or forward to someone new: me!”

His hand slid further up my thigh and then his thumb moved firmly over the throbbing bulge in my groin. I drew in breath sharply as a stab of delight ripped through me, fierce as a laser, fresh as a blast of icy air.

“But I don’t know you!”

“You will. Are you ready to turn away from the past and look ahead?”

“How did you know I was here?” I countered.

“Know? I didn’t know. I was out for a walk in the park and I saw you kicking a stone at the ducks. I don’t approve of hurting other living creatures, so I realised you needed a bit of discipline; and when I spoke to you I found you were a bit of a brat, which confirmed my opinion.”

“I’m not a brat!”

“You’ve seemed like one for the past few minutes.”

“I’m well-behaved as a rule; but there’s an exception to every rule. I’ve just had a stressful experience. And anyway, why do you want me as your boyfriend, if I’m a brat in need of discipline?” I enquired.

“Because you’re as sexy as a cartload of monkeys; you’ve got an arse to die for, eyes like melting toffee, and look like you’ve got a massive load of junk in the front of your jeans,” he stated astoundingly.

I flushed bright red.

“And besides,” he continued, “brats can be cured of their brattiness by a good, sound beating or three.”

“Why do you keep coming back to beating me? You can’t beat me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t bloody well let you!”

“Scared?”

“I’m not scared!”

“So, you need a beating. I’m willing to give you a beating. You’re not scared of a beating. What’s the problem, Simon?”

“Boys don’t get beaten these days,” I objected. “Nobody ever even spanked me in my life!”

“Never mind. You’ve just been unlucky. But I can spank you too if you want.”

“But I don’t want a spanking!”

“You don’t like the idea of me stripping you very slowly until you’re completely naked and then pulling you across my knee, your stiffie pressed against my thigh; and then my hand caressing your bare bottom before starting to spank you slowly and steadily, gradually building the heat until it becomes a sting and then a burn and then a blaze; and maybe your balls suddenly squirming and pumping out your load?”

As he said this, his hand cupped my junk and squeezed just hard enough to make me gasp with pleasure and feel the pre-cum in my pants.

“Well, if you put it like that…….”

“But first I need to give you a beating to teach you not to kick stones at ducks and not to behave in a brattish way.”

“I told you before! I wasn’t kicking the stone at the ducks!”

“But the ducks were there right in front of you and you kicked a stone. Are you really trying to tell me there wasn’t a serious risk you might have hit one of them?”

“Well, okay,” I said reluctantly. “I guess it was a bit thoughtless.”

“So, you’re going to be caned.”

“Caned? The cane went out with the Ark! I’ve never even seen a cane for real; and I bet you haven’t either.”

“I’ve got one.”

I goggled at him.

“You’ve got a cane? A real live cane?”

“It’s not alive.”

“You know what I meant!”

“Yup. Come back with me now to my place and I’ll beat your arse with it.”

“No way! That’ll hurt.”

“Fucking right it’ll hurt. It’s meant to; and it will punish you for your thoughtless behaviour and go a long way to improving your attitude.”

For some reason my penis loved this talk and strained desperately to escape the constrictions of my clothing. I winced. Janus grinned.

“Yeh, you know you need a good beating; and you can’t wait to feel the sting of my cane. It’s another way of turning your back on the past when nobody bothered to tan your insolent young hide, and looking to the future where you’ll get a strong, sexy boyfriend who’ll give you the discipline you need.”

He stood up and extended a hand.

“Come on.”

I got to my feet and hesitated.

“Well, take my hand, you oaf!”

“But someone might see us!”

“So?”

“It’s just that……”

Janus sighed: “Look! Are you gonna take my hand or not? And before you answer, I might as well warn you that if you don’t, I’ll take it as a personal insult and give you extra with the cane.”

I gazed admiringly at him; and slid my hand into his. We walked swiftly to his flat where he took me into a small but comfortable sitting-room, sat me on a chair and handed me a cane.

“There you are. Have a feel of it; get to know it. I’ll make some coffee.”

As he clattered with crockery in the kitchen, I felt my way along the limber length of the cane with a wondering index-finger. I bent it with both hands into a smooth arc. I whipped it in front of me and heard the air whine. My penis was desperately struggling to break free from my jeans. My head assured me earnestly that being beaten with this cane would hurt. My balls couldn’t have cared less and screamed at me to offer my arse to the rod. Janus came in with two mugs of coffee and a tin of biscuits and laid them on the table. He perched himself on the arm of the chair where I was sitting and firmly took the cane from me.

“Ready to be caned, Simon?”

“I thought I was getting coffee and biscuits.”

“Sure; after you’ve been caned. Are you ready?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had anything like this before.”

“You agreed earlier that you’d behaved badly in the park and so you deserve to be caned. It will clear up your bad behaviour and help you look to the future.”

“Oh yeh? Quick blast with a ruddy cane and I’ll forget all about Nicky? Like hell I will!”

In one fluid movement, Janus rose to his feet and lashed the cane down with full power on the leather cushion of the sofa. The whistle of the descending rod and the explosive crack as it hit made me jump with a squeak of alarm. He smiled at me.

“Think you’ll be remembering Nicky when my cane’s lashing across your behind, Simon?”

I gazed in horrified fascination at the deep indentation which the cane had made on the cushion, and shook my head wordlessly.

“Right. Jeans and pants off. Quick!”

“I…….”

“Now, boy!”

Such was the dominant power in his voice that I got to my feet and began to unbuckle my belt. I was aware that he was watching me closely. I bent down to untie and remove my trainers and all the time I could sense his eyes on my bottom. I pulled off my denims, put my hands to the top of my briefs; and hesitated. Even although my throbbing penis was protruding well beyond the waistband and fully visible to him, I felt a sudden shyness at revealing everything.

“Hurry up, boy!”

His voice was harsh and threatening. I submitted and removed my underwear, setting my bounding organ free at last. Janus gave a low whistle.

“Wow! Impressive!” he breathed; and I felt myself blushing scarlet to the roots of my hair.

He arched the slim cane slowly and I eyed it warily.

“Turn round; bend over with your hands on the chair, legs apart, bottom up.”

I obeyed and he ran a hand over the curve of my globes.

“Fantastic arse, Simon,” he enthused. “Why are you getting the cane?”

“For acting irresponsibly and thoughtlessly when I kicked the stone into the pond; and for being a bit of a brat.”

“And?”

“I dunno. I thought that was it.”

“To help you turn your back on Nicky and the past and look forward to me and the future.”

“Oh, yeh, that too I guess.”

“Say it, Simon.”

I turned my head to make a cheeky comment, but caught a look in his eyes which made me change my mind.

“To help me turn my back on Nicky and the past and look forward to the future with you,” I repeated dutifully as my rampant cock pulsed excitedly.

The cane made gentle contact with the bare skin of my rump and I flinched at its cool touch. He drew it slowly back and forward across my behind and then rapped it lightly several times. I tensed my body in readiness, penis at full stretch, heart thumping, blood thundering in my ears. I realised that although I was afraid, I was also excited. Simultaneously I wanted, and didn’t want, to be caned. Janus lifted the cane away and I waited for an interminable few seconds before it whipped hard into the centre of my buttocks, delivering a fierce sting which made me wince. My penis seemed to approve and strained for another millimetre of length.

He hit me again, slightly lower down and the second streak of fire felt more intense as it burned its way into my flesh. I drew in breath sharply, clenched my glutes for a few seconds and then slowly relaxed a little. The cane tapped several times at my behind before cracking down lower still. I gasped and squirmed as a vicious pain seemed to tear cruelly hard into my body. For the first time my penis sagged a little.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I panted.

“It’s going to hurt more.”

“I know.”

“Scared?”

“Yeh.”

“Gonna stay down and take it like a man?”

“Do I look like I’m running away?”

“Mmmm! Seems the spunk in those big balls of yours isn’t the only spunk you’ve got. Okay; show me what you’re made of, Simon.”

He lashed the cane hard into the underside of my globes where the flesh was more tender and forced a squeal of pain from me. Furious with myself, I gripped the edges of the chair-cushion hard, gritted my teeth and stayed in position.

“Felt that, didn’t you?”

“Yeh.”

“Think I can make you squeal again with the next one?”

“No.”

“You sure, Simon?”

“Yeh.”

The cane was driven hard into my crease where the sensitive skin of my bottom merged into the tops of my legs. A lightning-streak of searing fire blasted its way across my behind and I sank my teeth desperately into the cushion, clenching my buttocks so hard that my whole body shuddered with the tension. I was just beginning to loosen my tooth-hold on the cushion when he wielded his cane again, hitting at an oblique angle across the three lowest welts. Pain blazed a fiery furrow deep into my flesh and I felt scalding tears trickling down my face as my teeth sank again hard and deep into the cushion. For several seconds the world shrank to a tight red circle of pain; and then slowly the fires began to ease and I dared to breath again. My behind throbbed with the violence of what the cane had done to it, but my penis, decidedly floppy for the past three strokes, came roaring back, welcoming the steady burn in my bottom.

“What have you learnt, Simon?”

“To behave responsibly, not to be a brat, and to be your boyfriend,” I replied submissively.

“Stand up.”

I rose stiffly and stood feeling with both hands the raised ridges the cane had made on my bottom. My penis was threatening to punch a hole in the ceiling.

“Are you sure you want me to be your boyfriend?” Janus asked.

“Will you cane me like that in future if I misbehave?” I countered.

“Of course.”

“Okay, I’m sure. I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“And you give your consent to me caning you whenever I think you deserve it?”

“Yeh. I’ll take the cane.”

Janus sat down with the cane across his knees and beckoned me to kneel between his legs, facing him. He handed me one of the mugs of coffee and we drank silently for several minutes, just enjoying looking at each other. He took a biscuit from the tin, took a bite and then held it to my mouth; and I took a bite too. For some reason it was incredibly erotic, and our eyes locked and remained entranced, held, until the whole biscuit had been consumed.

I felt that it was time I asserted myself a little.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked, placing a hand on each of his inner thighs, my thumbs just brushing the stretched leather which held his junk.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Well, you’ve beaten me and my body seems to think that it’s yours now.”

“What about your mind?”

“It’s getting there. I think if you kissed me it would help.”

He put a hand in my hair and twisted it firmly and then raised my head even as he lowered his face towards mine. I closed my eyes and felt his lips brush mine. A thrill ran through me. He repeated the action several times and then kept his mouth on mine as his lively tongue pushed between my lips and darted round my gums until I responded and we sank into burning ecstasy. When we drew reluctantly apart, he looked me in the eyes.

“So, does your mind accept that you’re mine?” he enquired.

I nodded dumbly, gazing wonderingly at him.

“And Nicky is history?”

“Who’s Nicky?”

The kiss which followed that swept me three times round the galaxy. As I emerged, my head was still spinning and I swayed on my knees in front of Janus. He steadied me.

“You okay, Simon?”

“Yeh; just a bit dizzy. You can’t half kiss a boy. I never felt anything like that before. Made my head spin.”

“But you know which way you’re going?”

“Oh, yeh. I’ve gone through the door and I’m going straight ahead, leaving the past behind. I got one question though. You said that you didn’t approve of hurting other living creatures. Well, I’m a living creature, and you bloody well hurt me with that cane of yours!”

“As a rule that’s true; but as you said yourself, there are exceptions to every rule; and as far as I’m concerned, boys are the exception to that rule. They need to be hurt for their own good.”

“Okay. I know when I’m beaten. Take me back to the park.”

“What?”

“So we can take some bread for the ducks; to kind of say sorry to them. Have you got any bread here?”

“Sure; but you’re getting a bit bossy, aren’t you?”

“It’s how I am,” I replied firmly. “Deal with it.”

“You do realise that dealing with it might involve the cane and your bare bottom, Simon?”

“I was counting on it.”

Janus stood up, grinning broadly, and fetched some bread from the kitchen. Outside, I took his hand and walked clear-eyed and confidently into the new year.

___________)

Story ©MMXX by Joelstrap, used here by very kind permission.  Please leave a comment by using the link at the top of the story.

Joelstrap’s excellent earlier stories for The Canery are available here.  Further great stories by Joelstrap may be found at this external link