M/M, M/t Spank, Anal)
(Usual disclaimers apply)
The group of small boys watched as one of their number was lead into another room. They caught a fleeting glimpse of his bared buttocks before the door was closed to prevent them from seeing the ritual.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
As the sound of the caning carried to the waiting boys fear consumed them because their own bottoms were destined to meet the same fate. Each boy wondered if he would manage to remain silent despite savage hurt being inflicted to his nether regions, in order to teach him a lesson.
The door opened and the beaten boy emerged, pale of face and limping slightly.
"Churchill" intoned the chastiser. The cherub answering to that name slowly walked into the execution chamber.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Later, a tender-hearted mother gasped when the nanny pulled back a sheet revealing blood-filled weals on the boy's tender flesh.
Danny hit the 'off' button on the TV remote.
"You arse-hole, Danny ! I was watching that". 13 year old Nigel snarled at his older brother.
Danny sighed. He'd been out of the country for ten years, teaching in the Pacific Islands. Danny had almost forgotten how feral English boys could be.
"I realise it's Friday night but don't you have homework to do ?"
Nigel glared at his 30 year old brother. Danny met the hostile eyes without flinching. Nigel got out of the easy chair and walked out of the lounge, slamming the door behind him. Their mother who was busy in the kitchen put her head through the servery hatch.
"Everything all right ?"
"Yes Mum". Danny smiled at her. "Just Nigel doing his homework".
"I wish you'd knock some sense into him". She closed the hatch.
Danny thought of his brother and how the boy seemed to resent having to learn. He had every advantage unlike the boys Danny had taught in the Islands. No computers or calculators in their villages. Education had to be paid for and every boy wanted to do his very best. Education and teachers were highly valued there. Discipline was strict and Danny had caned many Island boys.
He thought about that flogging scene from 'Young Winston'. Very different from his Island lads who had yelled at the tops of their voices while he soundly thrashed their small brown buttocks! Nothing the least bit stoical about them.
"I'm going out, Mum", Danny shouted.
"Have a nice time dear", her voice floated back from the kitchen.
Danny walked down the street to his local. It was a warm summer's evening. Sitting in an alcove sipping an orange juice was an Islander. Peniasi had been one of Danny's brightest students. Now he was in the UK, on a scholarship at the town's university. Despite the summer warmth the big 23 year old Islander wore a heavy woollen jersey and still looked frozen. The barman sold Danny a pint of bitter and an orange juice for his friend.
Peniasi looked up and grinned when he saw his old teacher. He had a mouthful of very white teeth.
"Good to see you getting out and enjoying yourself, Pene", said Danny, affectionately.
"Will you come up to my lodgings with me?" the Islander pleaded.
Danny sighed at the prospect but then shrugged his shoulders. "Sure. Finish your drink first".
Pene lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed the contents with one gulp. He looked expectantly at his old teacher. Danny drank up his ale and then the two men retired upstairs where Pene had his rooms. He switched the electric fire on High and both men got undressed. The Islander tore his clothes off while Danny was more hesitant. In the Islands unmarried adult males made love and thought nothing of it. Danny was gay so where was the harm in giving an old friend the comfort he needed? Danny gulped when he saw the size of Pene's fleshy monster sticking up from its fores of black curly hair.
The Islander lifted Danny like a feather and placed him face down on the single bed. Pene's tongue found Danny's fundament and bathed it with saliva, a sensation the white man found both erotic and forboding. The monster's head was placed at Danny's secret entrance and resolutely pushed in. The older man gasped during the impaling. Pene grunted with the effort of getting through his former teacher's tight, resisting sphincter. The flesh-pole bloated Danny's love-chute and he bit into a pillow to stop from crying out.
Slowly but forcefully Pene thrust into the slight body beneath him. A floorboard under the bed squeaked rhythmically. The all-wise barman in the bar below heard the faint noise and smiled to himself. Danny thought of the many kindnesses he had received during his years in the Islands and regarded the assault on his fundament as part repayment of a debt owed.
Pene felt happier now than at any time since his plane had landed in this strange, cold country. He bent down and nuzzled Danny's neck affectionately. The teacher could see an electronic clock on a bedside table. Twenty minutes had passed and still Pene showed no signs of ejacqulating. The hurt had mostly worn off and Danny was now caught up in the intimacy of what his old pupil was doing to him. The monster was so long it reached a part of Danny's bowels where no man had ever been before. The massive head stroked Danny's prostate and balls brushed against his upturned bum-cheeks.
The relentless thrusting continued. The floorboard squeaked more than ever. Down below the listening barman checked his watch and shook his head in wonder.
Thirtyfive minutes elapsed and then Pene thrust his huge organ right in, up to the hilt. Danny felt the monster swell to twice its size before wetness sprayed the walls of his bowels. It took over a minute for Pene to fully drain his balls. Then he pulled out of Danny's hot moist, tunnel, its muscle closing behind him with a 'plop'.
Danny lay there while his friend gently cleaned his crease and then himself. Danny knew he had to stay in that position until his sphincter had partly recovered from the lovemaking. Island men carried their male lover's seed inside them as a mark of respect. It was not to be expelled for 24 hours.
Eventually the men got dressed again. The heat from the electric fire was stifling. Danny found himself telling his Island friend all about Nigel.
"English men do not beat their sons at all?"
"No. There are laws preventing it".
Pene shook his head at the strange ways of Europeans. Then the two men went down stairs. Danny said his goodbyes in the bar and headed off home. Mistaking 'catcher' for 'pitcher', the barman looked at the slight figure of the departing white man and whistled admiringly.
All was quiet at 13 Loyalty Avenue. Danny's Mum was asleep in front of the television set. He walked up stairs to the room he shared with Nigel. The boy was sprawled on his bed playing a game on his computer. When he saw Danny he turned it off.
"When you were at school did boys get whacked on the bare arse?" 'Young Winston' had obviously made an impressiom on him.
"No", said Danny. "We kept our trousers on".
"Why did you let them do it to you"? Nigel was of a generation that was simply unable to comprehend the notion that any older male might have thought it his duty to administer sometimes painful discipline, in order to teach a boy a lesson or as a penalty for doing wrong.
"I thrashed many boys in the Islands", Danny confided. "On their bare bottoms".
A look of disbelief crossed his young brother's face.
"You're having me on".
"No I'm not". Danny made up his mind. "In fact one of my old pupils is coming to lunch tomorrow so make sure you mind your manners".
The man went downstairs. His mother was awake again so he asked her if he could invite his Island friend for a meal.
"Of course you can, Danny". She beamed at him.
The man used the telephone in the hall to ring Pene's mobile. It took an age for the Islander to answer and then his voice sounded very distant. Danny sighed, Pene was holding the cellphone upside down again. Eventually they managed a brief conversation and lunch was arranged.
That night Danny and Nigel got undressed together in silence. The boy inspected his older brother's arse and inwardly scoffed at the thought of it ever having been the site for a beating. The man caught a glimpse of the boy's tight, taut buttocks which seemed to cry out for a caning.
The next day Penesai came for lunch. His graceful good nature and delight in all things European quickly won over Danny's mother. Even Nigel was impressed. Later in the day Danny's mother reluctantly left her new friend and went off to take part in the regular Saturday social group at her church. Since the untimely death of her husband, religion had become very important to her.
Nigel took Pene upstairs and showed him the computer.
"Do you like football?" the big Islander who was a bit afraid of computers eventually asked him. The boy quickly picked up a football and they disappeared outside where they played for an hour. Danny sat in the lounge, marking exercise books.
That was to become the pattern for the future weekends. First the Friday night coupling of Danny and Pene in the stifling hot room above the bar. Lusty, lengthy, rutting. Then Saturday lunch and a game of football with Nigel. The boy hero-worshipped the Islander. He even took Pene to school where the big man charmed Nigel's classmates.
As Mrs Frame, the Social Issues teacher, was to tell Danny who taught at the same school: "People warm to Pene because he takes such a delight in things the rest of us take for granted".
Danny who had watched his big friend cross a busy street time and time again, simply because he was captivated by the 'Cross Now' signals, knew exactly what she meant.
One wet Saturday, Danny was busy marking exercise books as usual. Nigel and Pene were playing football in the kitchen. Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass. A minute or so later they came into the lounge.
"Uh, Danny", said Nigel, sheepishly. "Somehow the glass in the bottom of the back door got broken".
"I kicked the ball too hard", said the Islander.
Danny looked at the pair of them.
"Well, the cost of repairing the glass will come out of your pocket money, young man", he told Nigel who nodded his agreement.
"It was all my fault", Pene said miserably. He padded over to a huge potted palm and gently removed its support, a three foot length of rattan which he then handed to Danny.
"Thrash me well for my carelessness".
His former teacher looked at him.
"If that is what you want".
The big Islander stripped off all his clothes and stood there, buck naked, with his hands on his head. Nigel's mouth dropped open at the sight of him. Pene's chocolate-brown buttocks jutted out from his perfectly proportioned body. His flaccid, uncut penis resembled a firehose. The only hairs on Pene's torso was his thick bush of black pubic hair.
"You know what to do", said Danny.
The Islander spread his legs wide as he bent down and grabbed both ankles with his hands. The totally submissive position exposed his crease and the large-lipped anus within.
Danny took up his position and inflicted six hard cuts to that waiting posterior. Ash-grey welts quickly turned to painful-looking, raised, purplish weals. After each one had registered, Pene yelled. It was fortunate the storm force winds outside masked the sound.
"Hands on your head. No rubbing".
Pene stood upright, tears trickling down his handsome face. It was not the savage hurt which caused his distress. The caning had brought flooding bsck happy memories of his Island boyhood when such beatings had been everyday affairs.
"Better get dressed", Danny said calmly as he returned the rattan to the pot plant.
Nigel remained rooted to the spot, staring at Pene's striped bottom and fat penis while the islander got dressed.
"You have beaten me well", the Islander told Danny while busy shaking the hand which had just flogged him raw. Then he turned and smiled at Nigel. Pene took the boy's hand and clamped it against his buttocks which were now a raging furnace.
"Wow!" Nigel gasped, "Your tail is on fire".
"It hurts good", Pene said, matter-of-factly. He released the hand but the boy kept it on the 'furnace'. Through the Islander's trousers and despite three pairs of thermal underwear, Nigel could feel the fiery corrugations the cane had left in Pene's firm flesh.
Danny went into the kitchen to make coffee. Pene dropped his hand until it was touching Nigel's small bottom.
"Never been caned ?"
"No, Pene".
The man gave each plump cheek an affectionate squeeze. The boy continued to touch the furnace which showed no sign of dying down.
"That is so strange. You Europeans! How else is a boy to know right from wrong ?"
Pene sat down on the sofa and groaned when his flayed bottom made contact with the vinyl covering. Nigel sat beside his big friend.
Danny came into the lounge with coffee and biscuits. The men talked knowledgeably about economics and other topics. Pene made sure to include Nigel in the conversation. The beating might never have happened. That was too much for the boy.
"The broken window was all my fault", he said miserably. "I'm the one who should have been thrashed, not Pene".
"Is this true?" Danny asked the Islander.
"Maybe".
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."
Nigel jumped up and roughly pulled the rattan out of the plant box. The palm started to topple over. With a speed which belied his size, Pene pushed a chair against the palm to keep it upright.
"Nigel, you know full well I am not allowed to beat you although, heaven knows, if ever a boy deserved to be thrashed it is you".
"Then Pene must do it".
Danny looked at his big friend who nodded.
The teacher sighed. "Very well. If there are any repercussions I'll just say we were conducting an anthropological experiment at your request".
Danny looked at his brother. "Go upstairs, strip naked and put on a pair of football shorts". The boy headed for the stairs. "And go to the toilet while you're up there", he shouted at him. "Don't want any accidents" he explained to Pene.
That reminded him: "You still carrying my seed inside you?"
Danny went red. "Yes".
The Islander struck a cushion with the cane. "You are a good man to respect my gift. Nice for Pene".
Ten minutes later Nigel came back into the room. He wore only a pair of running shorts, several sizes too big for him.
"My shorts are in the wash so I borrowed yours", he explained to Danny.
"Nigel" the Islander addressed the boy. "Your bottom is going to be hurt more than you can possibly imagine. You must remain in position until the beating is over, otherwise Danny will have to hold you down. Do you understand?"
"Yes", whispered the boy. He turned and bent over, grasping his ankles. The oversized shorts slipped halfway down, baring the crown of his buttocks. Pene raised his arm and whacked the boy's exposed flesh, hard. The thin line the cane left in its wake turned into a painful looking raised welt.
"YEEEEEEEEEEOWCH !", yelled Nigel who jumped about a foot in the air, leaving the shorts on the floor. His hands frantically rubbed his mounds trying to ease the searing hurt.
Pene sighed. Danny stepped forward and grabbed his young brother by the head. He pulled him down until Danny's face was against his crotch, and held him tight. Another cut lashed the boy's defenceless buttocks. He howled louder than before but the sound was muffled.
The Islander inspected the small buttocks and looked inside the crease at a pink dot that was the boy's anus.
'Danny hasn't taken him to bed yet', Pene said to himself, shaking his head at the ways of Europeans. In the Islands, post-pubescent youths were bedded by unmarried men of the village, husbands whose wives were heavy with child and widowers. Youths willingly accepted a man's seed which they believed contained the qualities to make them good hunters and so provide for their village.
"One to go", said the big Islander, who was a bit disappointed the boy had to be held down. He put all his considerable strength into the cut. Nigel howled and was then released by Danny. The boy shot up and did the involuntary cane dance, hopping from one foot to the other. His penis bobbing in front of him but Nigel was too consumed by the fiery hurt to think of covering himself up.
Both men admired the boy's splendid bottom, now with three vivid stripes emblazoned on its pale, pink flesh. The boy turned to the Islander and then shook his hand.
"You have beaten me well", he sobbed. "Sorry I was such a b-baby".
Danny helped his brother put on the shorts while Pene returned the rattan to the potted palm. Then the boy went upstairs.
As soon as Nigel was out of earshot Pene said to Danny: "Why haven't you opened the boy's bottom"?
"In my society, any man who did that to a boy", Danny answered firmly, "Would get a lengthy term of imprisonment".
The Islander looked at Danny. "Then, who do you bed?"
"No one".
Pene felt sad for his friend. They sat and talked of other things until Nigel, now fully dressed, came back into the room. The boy was calm now. He joined in the conversation until the Islander returned to his lodgings.
The next Friday night when the men retired to the room over the bar, Pene asked Danny to put his seed into him. The Islander stripped and laid himself down in full submission. The change of roles caught Danny by surprise and he was limp. He undressed but even fondling Pene's magnificent buttocks which still bore faint signs of the caning, did not cause an erection.
"Whst's the matter?"
"I can't get it hard. Sorry".
Islanders regarded the head as sacred so oral stimulation was not possible. However, Pene knew a trick which had worked on the village elders of his youth. He bit down gently on his friend's pink nipples while tickling Danny's balls with the tips of his fingers. That had the desired result. Seconds later, Danny's penis was fully inside his big friend's hot, moist chute. He slammed against those chocolate brown buttocks.
Pene thought affectionately of the young villager with the massive penis who had so cheerfully deflowered him. Memories of home flooded back and tears poured from his eyes. He sniffed, causing Danny to pause and ask: "I'm not hurting you, am I?"
'Hurt? With that tiny white stump?' thought the Islander. Loyally, he said nothing and just shook his head.
Danny continued to plough his friend's beautiful bum until, with a little cry, he deposited his seed inside Pene's bowels.
The barman who had timed the creaking floorboard at a mere five minutes, threw down his cloth with disgust. Danny walked home with a spring in his step. That was one Friday night when his fundament was not throbbing.
Saturday was hot without a breath of wind. Pene arrived for his lunch as usual, bundled up in layers of clothing. Afterwards, Nigel and the Islander kicked the football around until Danny called them inside for coffee. It was then the boy made his surprise announcement.
"Pene, you owe me three whacks".
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you took six from Danny but only gave me three".
Danny looked at Pene. The Islander said: "But Nigel, my mu is twice as big as yours".
"Mu?" whispered Nigel.
"What you'd call 'arse'", translated his big brother. "He's right. Besides, you'd only make an awful fuss and there's no storm to cover your yells today".
"I can take it". Nigel's lip trembled. He pulled off his T-Shirt. Jeans and underpants followed. The boy stuffed his T_Shirt into his mouth and then bent over. His small bottom was still striped and bruised from the caning he'd taken, seven days before. Pene looked enquiringly at Danny who nodded his head.
Pene retrieved the rattan and gave the boy's tightly stretched bottom a very hard whack indeed. Nigel shook convulsively but kept his position. The T-Shirt muffled his yells. Two more hard cuts followed. Then it was over. Nigel stood with his hands on his head. He spat out the T-Shirt and looked up at the Islander through tear-filled eyelashes.
"Thank you for thrashing me well". Boy and man shook hands. Then Nigel got dressed again. Both men were impressed that the boy had asked for the full punishment and the way he had acquitted himself during the flogging.
At the end of the university year, Pene, his suitcase full of awards and honours for meritous achievement, travelled home to his beloved Island. Nigel managed to videotape a repeat screening of 'Young Winston'. He liked to watch its caning scene and remember the times the big Islander had so enthusiastically, and painfully, striped his bottom for him. Danny? He ended up having to pay the glazier for that broken window.
Comments welcome: moonspender2@yahoo.com