This is a story involving light to moderate domination, spanking and scat play between adult males. All characters depicted in any sexual situation are eighteen years old or over, and all acts are wholly consensual. If this isn't your sort of thing or it is illegal for you to view it wherever you are, please leave now. This story and its characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual individuals is coincidental.
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Exploring Raffe's Perversions
Part Three
I didn't see Raffe for a couple of weeks. He was busy at uni and I was working a lot so the chance just didn't come up. In the meantime I ordered my cane. It was a beautiful thing, a heavy, whippy rattan of the kind they used to use on older schoolboys. Just holding it gave me a tremendous sense of power. I'd used a cane a couple of times before but I figured I should get used to this one so I practised on a cushion fastened over a chair. In my mind's eye it was the naked bottom of the cute student intern we had at work, and I caned him until he was crying and begging me to stop. The cane was bringing out my sadistic side, and I couldn't wait to use it on Raffe.
I showed it to him a couple of days later, when I'd mentioned I was working from home and he had a morning off classes. In the event he got a meeting scheduled and didn't have as long as he'd thought, but still he messaged me when he needed a poo, came over and did it in the toilet. I sat on the laundry basket to watch, dick in hand, as he pushed his jeans down round his ankles and then lowered himself onto the seat. He sat just how I'd imagined him, his legs well apart so that his tackle was on display, leaning his body forward in a beautiful curve until his elbows rested just above his knees and his T-shirt rode up a few inches from his naked bottom. For a few seconds he sat still and I took in the deliciously taboo sight of him on the toilet, but then he grunted, and his bottom hissed and squelched...
`Plop! Ploop, plomp, plop!'
The sound of him having a shit seemed to echo round the room, and I'd switched off the fan so the smell really filled the room. It was potent that day and I sniffed at it hard, drinking deeply of cute Raffe's vapour trail, which grew stronger when he strained and his bottom squelched faster, and he did another long string of plunks and plops. When he was done he showed me the jumble of thick brown logs in the toilet, then sat back down. He was nursing a semi, I saw when he opened his legs and settled back into position, and a thought seemed to come to him.
You should cane me for leaving your toilet with a smell and skidmarks!' he chuckled. You got your cane, didn't you?'
`Yup. But you don't want it now, do you?'
`Oh no, not now. No, sometime when we've got time, and I'm in cloth trousers for you to cane me over, really hard like they used to at school. Let's see it, though?'
So I went and got it, stood over him and flexed it, and gave it for him to hold so he could feel its weight and suppleness. He frowned, as though he could imagine what it would feel like applied to his backside.
`That's gonna hurt, isn't it,' he said ruefully.
`Yup, and if you really want me to do it properly you'll have welts.'
`That's okay, I'll just have to not let anyone see my bottom for a bit! No, really, I do want it hard. I wanna know what it felt like back then! What are you doing on Sunday morning?'
`Erm, nothing, I don't think. Why, can you get over? Nice and early, before you need your shit?'
`Ha, that's just what I was thinking! Okay, keep your phone on, and I'll message you!'
That Sunday morning he stood in his grey suit trousers and shirt, looking sheepish and twisting his fingers nervously together, his eyes fixed on the cane that I was flexing in front of him,
I am going to give you six strokes,' I told him sternly. You will keep still, and if you straighten up before I tell you then you'll get an extra one. Do you understand?'
`Yes Sir,' he said in a small voice.
`Do you need to go to the toilet beforehand?' I asked, hoping the answer would be the same as when he'd arrived twenty minutes ago.
`No Sir.'
`Very well. Go and stand over there. Face the wall.'
He turned and stepped over to where I pointed with the cane, his shoes clumping loudly on the laminate floor. I followed, brandishing the cane, and swished it a couple of times. He flinched as it swooshed through the air.
`Bend over.'
He'd read enough about school beatings to know what to do. He bent right forward until he was touching the ground, his knees slightly bent and his round bottom sticking out. His trousers tightened across it so that I could see the outline of his briefs underneath. I fixed my eyes on his buttocks, their smooth skin the canvas on which I was going to paint my art, and held the cane out across them to establish my aim. When I tapped his seat I heard him draw breath. Then I raised it high into the air and lashed it down across the middle of his arse.
`Swoosh-whack!'
I wasn't playing with him. He'd asked me to lay on the kind of caning an older schoolboy got for something serious, and that was what I was going to give him. I swung from the shoulder with pretty much full force, so that the cane really cracked into his cheeks, biting in deep so that it would raise an instant welt and send a stinging bolt of pain all through his body. I heard him gasp softly, but there was no more reaction, not until twenty seconds later when I tapped the cane on his bottom again, and swung hard. This time it hit low, almost at the junction with his thighs where the padding was less and the pain was agonising.
`Ah!' he gasped.
The sense of power came back to me then. I settled into what I was doing and I started to enjoy it, and then when I gave him a third stroke and he grunted loudly and jerked upwards I started to nurse a semi. Half way through his first caning I could feel his submission and helplessness and pain, and it spurred me on to do more, to make him cry out. It was what he'd said he wanted, and unless he used the safety word we'd agreed I could assume it was still what he wanted. And that made hurting him like this not just alright, but wonderful! I raised the cane for the fourth time, fixing my eyes on his upper bottom, where there'd be a broad untouched stripe between the first and third strokes.
`Swish-crack!'
Now there was just another grunt, and a sharp tensing up of his body. He'd have got over the initial shock now, gritted his teeth and forced himself to show no reaction, to take it like a man. Sometime afterwards he'd almost certainly have to do that other manly thing, and for a moment I contemplated what might happen when he needed to empty his stinging arse. But no, that must wait until the job I was doing was complete. I fixed my eyes back on his waiting cheeks and held the cane across them again. I'd spaced the first four out, but these last two would fill in the gaps, and strike skin that was already bruised and wounded. Sadistically, I gave him the fifth one low, right across his bumhole with a resounding `crack!'
`Ow!' he yelped, flinching up again with his hands coming well off the floor before he forced himself back down.
I made him wait for the last one, holding the cane out and tapping it on his seat for several seconds, before finally I swung and cracked it down. I wasn't merciful to him then either. It struck just above his bumhole, right by the welt from an earlier stroke and made him gasp. He didn't flinch, though, but just tensed up as he absorbed the shock and rush of pain, and then relaxed again with a grunt.
`That will do, now stand up.'
He stood up gingerly with his hands going to his bottom. I might have told him to stand with them on his head, but he looked too cute massaging his blazing cheeks, his face all drawn and stiff. For a moment I contemplated him like an old schoolmaster must have looked on the teenager he'd just beaten, but then I put down the cane and went back to normal.
`That hurt enough, then?!' I grinned.
Yes,' he said ruefully. Ow, it really stings actually.'
`Go on then, let's see it!'
He went and stood under the light to pull his pants down and show me my own handiwork. I'd raised beautiful purple tramlines, well spaced out but for the two together across his anal area, and his whole bottom was red and hot to the touch. When he straightened up again I saw he was half-hard, his cock, thick and weighty, swaying when he moved.
`Now,' how about some coffee?' I said with a wink as he pulled his pants up.
`Ooh, yes please!' he laughed.
Half an hour later we got naked in the living room, for him to do his poo on my knee. I sat on a low seat, legs slightly apart, and he came and stood in front of me with his sore bottom at my eye level. When he lowered it onto my knee he could feel the welts against my thighs. I'd got him to sit on the toilet before, just to see it, and he'd squeaked as his backside made contact with the hard seat. Even on this gentler seat he drew breath sharply, before he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his thighs. He was bearing some of his own weight, but he was a big guy and heavy on my legs. He had a semi, and I reached under and tugged at it, and ran my fingers over his smooth skin before I leaned back again, looking up the glorious curve of his spine to where the light glinted in his thick hair.
He grunted and I felt him relax, and then his cheeks pressed more firmly into my thighs as his bottom heaved and his hole twitched and puckered, and then the pointed end of his turd pushed it open. It grew slowly out of his bum like a crooked brown finger, but then his lips flared wider and he laid a thick brown cable, and a wave of his rich smell assaulted my nostrils. The finger thudded to the floor, a moment later a fat brown sausage dropped on top of it and bent double, and then his bum slowly grew another dull brown column that tapered off and pulled away. As it flopped down and curled across the pile he strained and pushed out the end, grunted and went still on my knee. I'd been fondling my dick as he did his shit, but now I reached up and put a hand on his back.
`First shit after a caning. Feel nice? It smells really good!'
Mm, yeah,' he grunted. My bottom hurts a bit when I poo!'
`Ha, that's the idea! I love it when my bum still hurts and I have to sit on the toilet seat. Have you finished, though? This is starting to hurt my legs!'
'No, but I really need to pee.'
I fumbled next to us and picked up the mop bucket, and he held it between his legs and directed his cock into it, lifting himself up a bit on his legs to give mine some relief. Piss splashed loudly against the side, and as his bladder emptied he let out a little sigh of relief. When he was done he put the bucket to one side, then settled back on my knee with a contented grunt. I felt his bottom heave and sensed his gentle strain, and right in front of my throbbing cock he did a snaky turd. A long, glistening rope extended down towards his pile and then fell across it, the broken end curled up towards me and snapped off, and then another one extended down, and another. If I'd wanked I'd have cum all over his back and bum there and then, and instead I let my cock jerk and twitch at the sensations and the smell of Raffe doing his big poo on my knee. Two more slim turds fell onto the pile before his brown lips puckered in a little squeaky fart, and then closed up again.
When he was done I wiped his bottom for him while he was still sitting on my knee, just getting him to shuffled forwards a bit so I could reach down between my thighs and rub at his hole. He liked having his bum played with, and he grunted and fingered his dick excitedly as I did it, using a lot of paper to clean the smears from around his tight little anus and then probe deeper in. Finally he was clean, and I got him to kneel down on the floor.
Cum all over it,' I told him gently. Cum all over your shit.'
I got down with him and we wanked off together. Almost at once his face contorted and he began to breathe hard, and then his head went back and he yelped out loud as he fired all over his beautiful pile, before I got him to turn round and let me shoot mine all over his sore bottom.
Raffe had liked being punished. He told me afterwards that the feeling right before it started, bent over with the hard cane tap-tapping on his bottom, was the most intensely submissive thing he'd ever felt. The next time I saw him, one morning when I was working from home, he said he was craving it again. He said that sitting on the toilet with six red lines still just about visible on his plump cheeks, amid the thick air he'd made with his big, gassy, plop-plopping shit.
It smells disgusting,' I told him before I wiped his bum, and I was only half-joking. I should cane you for that!'
Yes, and hard!' he grinned. Nine next time?'
`If you want!
He got his nine strokes one day the following week, and he took them manfully, with only a jump and a gasp or two, and a strangled yelp when the last one lashed down. Then the time after that, once again a few weeks later when his welts had disappeared completely, he got me to cane him on his bare bottom. Once again he was wearing a shirt and trousers, but this time I made him take them down, and his pants, and then pulled his shirt well up from his behind when he bent over the table, with his wrists cuffed to the chair opposite. He looked especially helpless and vulnerable as he waited, his balls and semi dangling between his legs and his smooth cheeks presented for six of the best. I had a semi too as I held the cane across them. For the first time I'd get to see the results of my work in real time, and the thrill of having such power over him was more acute than ever. He'd said he wanted me to push his limits, and that was what I did. I swung from the shoulder, so the cane lashed down on his backside as hard as ever it had, and his cheeks rebounded from every stroke. Yet he was toughening up fast, and he showed almost no reaction as I laid on the first four strokes. They were well spaced out, but the final ones hit between them, where the skin was already bruised and tender, and I could tell that hurt. He gasped and jerked upwards momentarily as the fifth stroke cracked down across the centre of his bum, but then forced himself back down, breathing quickly as he waited for the last one. I made him wait for that one for a long time, tap-tapping the cane lightly on his skin and fixing my aim on the top of his thighs. Then I swung hard.
`Crack!'
`Ow!' he yelped, flinching upwards for an instant before he sagged back down, breathing hard and trembling.
I kept him standing there for a while, absorbing the stinging pain in his welted bottom whilst I admired my own handiwork. When I told him he could stand up he got up stiffly, and stood there rubbing and massaging his cheeks and shuffling on the spot with his pants around his ankles. He looked as pathetic as any freshly beaten lad, but there was a hint of cheeky defiance in his eyes as if to say, `you've not broken me yet!'
Then, like we'd once talked about, I led him over to the table, shuffling along with his pants down, and bent him over it. I donned a condom and smeared some lube on it, came forward and pressed my swollen head to his tight, hard little hole. As I did so his cock started to get properly erect.
I fucked him hard, just how he'd fantasised about it back when we'd worked together and he'd wanked off over the thought of me dominating him. His arse was tight and yielding, and though I'd fucked him before it felt new and exciting doing it to him like this, with him grunting painfully as my hips slammed into his lined backside. Again and again I drew right back until only the tip of my cock was in his anus, then went all the way back in in one smooth thrust that impaled him and made him squeal.
`Harder Jamie, harder! Make it hurt!' he panted.
I responded eagerly, and pounded him madly. Bathed in sweat we writhed and grunted together, until he came all over the floor and I shot deep inside him.
`That was amazing!' he smiled afterwards.
`What, me fucking you right after the cane?'
`Yeah. It's like you say, it's dead intense being fucked and played with right after you've caned me. But ... well, I've had a thought too.'
`Go on...'
`Will you cane me when I really need a poo?'
`Ooh, yes! Bare-bottom, so if you can't hold it you go on the floor?'
`Or in clothes so I poo my pants?!'
`If you like! Okay yeah, let's do it!'
Enjoyed this? You can find a complete list of my stories on the prolific author page. Name: namab mas
Feedback and ideas are very welcome: namabmas@gmail.com