What exactly is a scallywag.

What exactly is a scallywag.
I'll go along with that.

All Mixed Up

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Eh?  Oh, it was Adela.  Don’t think you know her, but we used to see each other at the club occasionally when I used to go to the mixed nights.  Nice woman,” replied Patrick as he walked back into the kitchen with a slightly surprised look on his face.

“Hmm… I think I’ve heard you mention her name before… what did she want?” questioned Jer in a puzzled tone.  “Why is she ringing you now when you haven’t been to a mixed night for such a long time?”

“Stop being such a suspicious little urchin.  What do you think; that I’m going to turn het in a premature middle aged crisis attack?” laughed Patrick in response to his boyfriend’s frown.

“You’re not middle aged!  Thirty-three is nothing these days so stop trying to change the subject, what did she want?”

“She wanted to know if I was still doing the scene purely because she hadn’t seen me around for such a long time.  And she didn’t know that I had had my heart stolen by a sexy young tottie of 29 who kept me so busy and satisfied that I didn’t need to cruise the night looking for victims,” answered Patrick as he paused behind Jer at the work surface and proceeded to feast, mock vampire style, on his neck, which resulted in groans of desire interspersed with giggles instead of moans of fear.

Jer reluctantly pulled away and demanded, “Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Dunno.  I might let you go on being daft for a bit more and then I can spank you for it,” threatened Patrick.  “Calm down, I was about to tell you,”  he continued evenly as he moved away and started to set the table for their meal.

“You know that I used to go to the mixed nights as well as the gay ones because back then the mixed nights came around more often so if I wanted to play, that’s what I had to attend.  It didn’t bother me and – I’ve already told you this – I played with some gay guys and some straight guys as well.  Not many, but a few.  Some straight men have a thing for a little M/M action but it doesn’t mean they want to take it any further than that.  Probably memories or fantasies of schoolboy canings I should imagine.  Or just to see if there’s any difference between a woman doing it and a man.   Or maybe their egos can’t cope with submitting to a woman.  Who knows!  Anyway, then the gay nights started to come up more regularly so eventually I started going less and less to the mixed nights and then you came along, Beloved,” Patrick took advantage of Jer passing him by with the empty plates to lay the table to pull him in for a quick cuddle and a kiss, “and then I stopped going altogether.  OK?”

“No.  It still doesn’t explain what this Adela woman wanted,” grumbled Jer as he let Patrick pin him up against the table, looming over him and leaning in for another kiss.  “You told me you only dealt with men at the club, please don’t tell me you used to spank her as well.”

Patrick laughed out loud.

“I’m telling you, it would be a braver man than me who would try and spank Adela.  I’m rather attached to my balls and I want them to remain that way – attached.”  Patrick gave a theatrical shudder.  “No, love, not my thing at all and most definitely not hers!  She wanted to know if I was interested in dealing with some man. She’s got hold of a couple at the club and the man wants to be caned.”

“So why doesn’t she send them to the gay night then?”

“Er... because it’s a het couple Jer, pay attention.  You know... a man and a woman?  And the lady of the house can’t or won’t do the business but she’s gone so far as to allow the husband to find someone else to do it providing...”

“So, can’t this Adela cane him then, if she’s a Top?” interrupted Jer grasping at what he saw was a way out.

“No, the wife says not.  She can’t cope with the idea of it being done by another woman apparently.   Adela said she got her head around the idea that her husband wanted to try this – which is a pretty big thing if you’re vanilla – but she drew the line at it being done by a woman, so Adela said she’d try and find some nice young chap - apparently I’m a nice young chap -” mused Patrick in humour, “to do the honours.”

“Oh.  Oh!  So, you’re going to do it then?” asked Jer with a note of accusation.

“I told her I’d talk it over with you first.  Would it bother you?”

“I don’t know, Pat.  I don’t think I like the sound of this.”

“OK, but tell me why not.  I mean, you’ve seen me play with unattached singles at the club before so it wouldn’t be that different, would it?   They all know that we’re a couple and that I don’t take it any further with them than the spanking, and that I always come back to you afterwards so even if they wanted something more from me, they wouldn’t get it.  This man isn’t gay so you’d have even less to worry about.”

“Yes, I know, but...  Just seems a bit odd.  Anyway, you only play with other men at the club when I’ve already played and had enough.  You’ve never played with anyone and not me on the same night, so it’s different.”  Jer moved away from the table and busied himself giving a last stir to the stew on the oven top to hide the fact that he’d just had a small fit of jealousy at what Patrick was proposing.

“Oh, right.  So, it isn’t about me caning some other man, gay or not; it’s about you not wanting me to do it unless you get yours as well?” 

Patrick plucked the wooden spoon out of Jer’s hands, put it in the sink and pulled the reluctant man towards one of the chairs, pulling him down to sit awkwardly on his lap.

“Come on, talk to me.  What’s the matter?”

“Just don’t like the idea of you playing when I’m not involved, that’s all.  I know you play with others when we go out but because I’ve already had mine, it doesn’t bother me.  And I normally get something afterwards anyway before we leave so... dunno, Pat, it’s sort of like me ‘letting’ you play with others because I know that you’re going to come back to me.  Can you understand that?”

“Yes, I get that.  And don’t think I hadn’t noticed that nine times out of ten, you angle for another spanking at the end of the night if I’ve spanked someone else.  You’ve been stamping your brand on me on the quiet, haven’t you?” laughed Patrick.  “It’s the BDSM equivalent of ‘save the last dance for me’.  How romantic.  I still don’t get it though, how will this be different?”

Jer sighed with false exaggeration.  “Pat.  If you go to a mixed night, I won’t be involved, will I?  You’ll be dealing exclusively with someone else.  I think that’s what I don’t like about it.”

“Who says you won’t be involved?  We could play as well if you want.”

Jer’s squeak of horror would have done a trapped mouse proud as he jumped up and backed away from Patrick in terror.   

What?  I’m not going to a mixed night... are you fucking mad?  Why would I want to go to a mixed night when we have the gay one available?”  Jay demanded angrily.

“Hey!  Calm down a bit Jer.  I’m not saying you have to go.  I’m not even saying that I’m going.  I’ve told Adela that I’d talk to you about it and that’s what I’m trying to do but if you’re going to get all hysterical on me, we won’t get anywhere.  Now then, what’s so frightening about a mixed night?”

“There’ll be women there for a start!” sneered Jer sarcastically.

“Watch the tone, Jer,” warned Patrick.  “I know there’ll be women there, there usually are on mixed nights.  So what problem do you have with that?  You aren’t a woman hater; you probably have more women friends than I do, so where’s this coming from?”

Jer forced himself to take a deep breath.  “I am not playing in front of any women.  And I don’t particularly want to see any women play either... certainly not if they take the part of Bottom.  I just don’t want to have that sort of intimate knowledge if you don’t mind.  I’d have to scrub my eyeballs with Dettol afterwards and I’ll end up having nightmares.”

Patrick couldn’t help but laugh at his partner’s over the top scene setting.  “Okay, okay.  I get it now.  Come here, you dope,” he murmured reassuringly as he pulled the still horrified man into an embrace and hugged him.

“You’re mad, do you know that?  Look, don’t worry about it; it’s nothing we have to do if we don’t want to.  I was just a bit surprised by your reaction that’s all and I couldn’t see what the problem was.”

“Now, listen to me.  First of all, you know you’re the most important thing to me and I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t like... well, apart from the obvious things like bending over so I can spank that rather delectable bottom of yours,” intoned Patrick as he soothed Jer by playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.  Jer wriggled in appreciation of the touch and the dialogue.

“Secondly, just for the record, I’m not sure you’re thinking this through properly.  You know what the club is like, come on... it’s exactly the same place that we use and it has the same facilities open to the members, so it’s very likely that Adela would arrange for this man to be caned in one of the private rooms for his first time.  It would make it less nerve wracking for him than doing it in public and it acts as a failsafe in case he doesn’t like the reality of it.  He could then leave with no-one the wiser if he bottled it or just totally freaked out and cut the session short.  You know what it’s like when we go there, the punters seem to be able to tell when something special is in the air and these people would be able to as well but Adela is very, very good at protecting ‘Newbies’.  More so in this case because neither of them are players and the wife is going to be as nervous as hell.  If she goes, that is... Adela didn’t say anything about that.  So, if the play was in a separate room, that would cut out a lot of the risk of you seeing anything likely to give you nightmares.  But having said that, what exactly do you think you’re likely to see, Jer?  You’ll have seen more female boobs and bums at the local shopping centre in the underwear adverts or at the beach.  It can’t possibly be an unknown entity for you... don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked woman before?”

“Well, of course I have, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it or have it shoved in my face.”

“I doubt very much that any of them are going to shove anything in your face.  Other gays do go there you know, so they are used to us and know how to behave.  Any flaunting done is to the room at general, not to individuals and it’s got nothing to do with showing off their bits and pieces.  The owner doesn’t like the place going too far down the cattle market road so he doesn’t encourage that sort of attitude.  Anyway, you’ll have seen more when we went on holiday last year with your sister and her family.  That swimsuit she wore was practically nothing more than a thong and a couple of strips of ribbon.”

“Aw, don’t, Pat.  Please.  I don’t want to start thinking about things like that... she’s my sister for Christ’s sake.”

“All I’m saying is that you wouldn’t see anything that you hadn’t seen anywhere else and probably not even that much if we were to go early enough and get in the room before the hall fills up and the action starts.  And afterwards, we could play a bit in private – I could ask Adela for use of the room just for us - if you get a bit squicky about me dealing with someone and you not getting your rations.  Although that shouldn’t matter because there would be no-one there you need to prove a point of ‘ownership’ to, would there?  So we could just as easily come home and play here afterwards if you didn’t want to stay.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.  Still not sure though, it’s a lot to think about all at once,” countered Jer, his doubts still clearly written on his face.

“No problem.  We don’t have to decide anything right this very minute.  Have a think about it and let me know.  Just don’t leave it to the last minute because I’ll have to let Adela know one way or the other so she can find someone else if we decide I won’t be doing it.  And if we decide I will do it, we’ll still have to let her know with enough warning because she mentioned that this couple live a fair distance away and would be coming up for the night to stay in a hotel afterwards, so they’d have to make bookings and all sorts of arrangements.  OK?”

“Okay, let me think about it for a while.  Can we eat now before I lose my appetite completely?”

Patrick smiled and dropped a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips as he sat at the table. 

“We most certainly can.  And afterwards I think you can trot upstairs and fetch me something from under the bed so I can teach you a lesson about using me as a status symbol.  You Bottoms are getting far too uppity and I’ve a mind to do something about it.”  A tremor of anticipation ran through Jer at the thought.  As much as he loved going to the club with Patrick and having everyone see who he ‘belonged’ to and who ‘belonged’ to him, their best sessions took place at home.

As Patrick brought the simmering pan over the table and started to ladle food into the bowls, he hesitated, quickly hid his smile and said dryly,

“You know Jer, I’m not sure this is the best day we could have picked for us to be eating dumplings.”


“Who was that on the phone?”

“Eh?  Oh, it was Adela.  From the club.  She said she’s found someone and if we’re still willing, it’s all set for Friday week.  She wants us to phone her in the next day or so to let her know for sure.”



“You OK?”

“Yeah.  A bit nervous though.  I never thought I’d see the day when I would be coming to a mixed night at the club.  Promise me you won’t leave me abandoned somewhere!  With my luck I’ll get some Domme come up and tell me to bend over and I’ll have to run screaming from the place,” moaned Jer half seriously.

Patrick chuckled in response.  “Stop fretting.  I hereby promise faithfully to do all in my power to keep your virtue intact and your trousers up should any women be on the prowl.  Better?”

Jer sighed theatrically.  “Well, if that’s the best you can do...”

“You’ll be fine.  I’ve already told Adela how the land lies in that respect so if you wait with her no one will dare approach you.  The wife is coming as well so you can keep each other company under her protection.  Come on, let’s go in and get a drink.”

Five minutes later saw them both with a drink in their hand, Patrick’s non alcoholic, as he refused to play at any club after even one drink.  If he ordered a whisky while there then Jer knew that no more spanking would be done.  Patrick thought it was all too easy to get caught up in the mood of the moment if there was an appreciative crowd gathered and you didn’t have your senses about you and Jer had tired of trying to tell him that he trusted him enough even if he’d had a drink or two.  In the end he had accepted that it was a quirk of Patrick’s and that was that.

“Where are they?  Can you see them?”

“Well, I can see Adela and the couple with her would be the husband and wife I imagine,” replied Patrick as he motioned with his head at the tall 40 something brunette dressed in a fitted heavy silk dress the colour of dark cherries perched elegantly on one of the high stools to the side of the bar.  Jer was sure he would have recognised her purely from Patrick’s description.  She was accompanied by three people.  A rather nervous but determined looking dark haired man; an equally nervous looking blonde woman who couldn’t quite control her eyes from flicking occasionally towards the third person; a man, somewhere in his middle thirties, who was kneeling in happy silence on the floor beside his Mistress.   He had an ordinary appearance; a pair of black trousers and a tight shirt that was almost transparent that to the woman could have been perfectly normal if it wasn’t for the ornate dog collar that he wore and the fact that his hands were linked behind his back. 

“Shall we go over then?  Why are we waiting?  Let’s go...”  Jer’s first instinct was to get things started as soon as possible so they could leave. 

Some of his eagerness had to do with the fact that after talking long and hard with Patrick, and in an attempt to ward off any sudden attacks of jealousy twinned with Jer’s insistence that no way was he willing to play at the club tonight, he’d already been thoroughly strapped before leaving home and was hungering for what had been promised him if he behaved well tonight.  His ‘fidgets’ were part to do with nerves and part trying to relieve the tremendous sting he could still feel from the crest of his cheeks to a quarter way down his thighs.  They’d discussed the possibility that the man wanting to be caned might not want any witnesses to the act and if so, that it was likely that Jer wouldn’t enter the private room with them.  If that turned out to be the case, then Jer was determined to focus more on what was waiting for him – he’d been promised the leather paddle, his favourite – than on what might be going on out of his vision.

“Hold your horses Tonto.  We’ll go over when Adela tells us to.  She probably wants to talk to them a bit first, let them get a good look at the place and at us.  Adela would have pointed us out to them the minute we walked through the door so I’d appreciate it if you could hold back on throwing yourself to the ground in apparent fear for your life, crying out ‘Don’t beat me Master, please!’  It will totally ruin my reputation as a ‘Nice Young Chap’.”

Jer couldn’t control his spurt of laughter and very nearly succeeded in choking on his beer.

“They’ll both need to be relaxed before I get introduced.  Have a bit of compassion for the Newbies... can’t you remember how you felt first time in a club?”

“I was so damned nervous my first time I would have thrown myself at the first man I saw as I walked through the door if it hadn’t been for someone telling me what to do and what not to do,” confessed Jer with a small giggle.  “I don’t think that bouncer ever realised what a lucky escape he had - I’m sure he wasn’t gay.”

Patrick gently hauled Jer towards him so that he was leaning against the length of his own body and slipped an arm down over his shoulder.  The new pressure on his bottom caused Jer’s skin to throb more, and he momentarily closed his eyes, leant his head back on Patrick’s shoulder and let the sensation of contentment course though him as he recalled the build to this evening.

They’d had many conversations over it since that phone call, mainly Jer planting alternatives and Patrick steadily discarding them for one reason or another.  Jer had questioned why it had to be him?  Surely there were other men who would be willing to do it, why did it have to be Patrick?  Patrick had answered that yes, there were other men who would be happy to do it but he supposed that Adela was looking for a combination of someone who could and would deal with a straight man, who knew how to treat a Newbie and would be willing to come to the mixed nights.  He’d explained how Adela had another option if Patrick wasn’t willing; Colin, who sometimes floated round the club but wasn’t a regular and therefore harder to pin down as no one seemed to have a number for him.  Jer had practically exploded on hearing that. “You can’t give this man to Colin; he’s a danger.  He’d be far too harsh for a Newbie and I’m not sure he’s totally reliable where safe-words are concerned.  And I think he has a chip on his shoulder because I’d heard rumours that he got a lot of hassle from the guys he works with, nasty stuff, just for being gay, so I wouldn’t trust him to cane a straight man and not take some sort of revenge.”  Hoist by his own petard, Jer had eventually grudgingly conceded that Patrick might be the ideal choice.  When, as a last attempt, Jer asked why he wanted to do it, what was he getting out of it, Patrick had said “Well, it can’t have been easy for this couple when all this came out into the open, so I’d like to make sure that it’s done with the minimum fuss and trauma for them both. We met at the club don’t forget, so before even knowing each other’s names, we knew what we were about and where our likings lay.  Call it a prize for their bravery if you will.”  Jer had given up at that stage and instead said something about him wanting to claim his ‘Top Prize’ and from there the evening had turned to other things.

“See?  Nothing to be afraid of.  It’s still the same place, you know where all the emergency exits are and the people who are here can see that we’re together,” he whispered in his ear after placing a row of discreet kisses down Jer’s exposed neck.

“This might be a little bit more geared towards pomp and ceremony than we’re used to and more people will use titles but we still fit in.  Look... see that couple over there?  I’ve seen them at the gay night as well so you can see that you aren’t alone.”

Jer relaxed back against the firm chest and cast a proper look about the room. 

“True.  They’re more clothes conscious than we are normally but there aren’t that many ‘fancy dresses’ as you call it and not too much on show, thank heavens!”

As he surveyed in the room, his eyes eventually came to rest once again on the small group who were the reason they were both there tonight.

He saw Adela turn her head towards them, pin them with her gaze and give a small nod of her head in invitation.  Patrick had obviously seen it as well as he gently put Jer from him, took his hand and led the way through the path of growing people while Jer tried desperately to develop tunnel vision to protect his eyes from having to undergo a possible bath with disinfectant.

It was obvious to Jer as they reached the group that the only people who were totally at ease here were Patrick, Adela and the man kneeling on the floor.

Patrick smiled warmly at his hostess and greeted her with a polite ‘Mistress Adela’, spoken not in servitude but as a combination of courtesy from one Top to another and from a gentleman to a lady.

“Patrick, lovely to see you again,” she said softly as she allowed him to approach and they exchanged kisses on either cheek.  “It’s been such a long time, we thought you had fallen off the map somehow but I can see now why you’ve been so remiss in attending,” her warm voice was nothing but friendly and welcoming, giving no indication of the steel inner core that ran underneath the polished exterior.  It was there, people could sense it, but she rarely had need to bring it to the fore for effect.  “And this is...?”

“May I introduce Jerome... my partner,” replied Patrick understanding that Adela already knew all about his boyfriend – he’d told her – but that she was ‘making pleasant’ so as to smooth the situation along.

Mustering all his courage Jer mumbled, ‘Mistress Adela’ while giving thanks to whoever the God of Kink was that Patrick wasn’t someone who insisted on using titles as a form of address.  She held out her hand inviting him to shake it, said, “Nice to meet you, Jerome,” and turned fluidly to the couple standing beside her, “This is Marcus and Susanne.”  The man kneeling on the floor wasn’t introduced.

It had the potential to be a very awkward and embarrassing moment but Adela was adept at putting people at ease and of talking about even the most scandalous kink related topics in a way that made them seem normal everyday conversations.  She sent to the bar for another round of drinks, making a point of mentioning that Patrick didn’t ‘Drink & Spank’, which made Jer, not wholly successfully, suppress a small giggle at the thought of there being a Spanking Licence and of having points removed if he was caught with a beer in his hand while swinging a cane.  He realised what she was doing though, she was underlining Patrick’s suitability as somebody safe and trustworthy.

She adroitly went on to lay out the terms of the evening.  She’d arranged for the small back room to be available which she considered ideal as it was at the end of a wide corridor with space enough outside it that allowed a smallish sofa, which is where she suggested that Susanne and Jer wait.  They’d be out of the main arena so wouldn’t feel exposed but near enough to where it was happening that they wouldn’t feel forgotten about.  Both gulped nervously and nodded in agreement.  Had Susanne wanted to go in then Jer would have insisted, or he liked to think he would have insisted, in joining them.  He wasn’t sure he would have the nerve to insist on anything with Adela.  He would have liked to have gone in anyway, even if Susanne hadn’t wanted to but at the back of his mind he realised that this was more to do with them, with their wants and needs than with his own and he could understand that maybe Marcus was grateful for not having more people there than necessary.  Adela was going to attend to make sure proprieties were upheld and to give support to Marcus should he need it.

After a while Adela moved them all towards the room and settled Jer and Susanne on the sofa - each graduated towards separate ends - with instructions to Sean (apparently the name of the man in the dog collar) to get them another drink if they needed one.  He promptly wandered off to the end of the corridor where he started to talk to a woman in a red latex skirt that unfortunately wasn’t flattering, but he cast a glance back at them every so often with a reassuring smile.  It looked very much like he was guarding the entrance to the corridor to keep them safe although it was still early and the other rooms were not in use yet.

It was very cleverly done.  The door opened from left to right and was left ajar as the three people passed through after Patrick gave Jer a quick peck on the cheek and a cheery ‘Back in a mo’ and Marcus gave a similar peck to Susanne with the whispered words ‘Thanks’.  The location of the door meant that from the sofa Jer and Susanne could see Adela who positioned herself looking further into the room and stated, apropos of nothing, that she would take up that position when the caning was underway.  She was telling them that although they wouldn’t see anything, they would be able to see her reaction to what was going on.  She moved beyond their sight to get Marcus settled and to confirm that both people knew what was expected of them.

The silence in the corridor was deafening as neither Jer nor Susanne quite knew what to say to each other.  A quick glance at her hands as she sat twisting them made Jer realise just how very nervous she was.  He cleared his throat to speak.

“Er... I think it’s normal to say something like ‘Do you come here often?’ but I’m not sure it’s fitting under the circumstances.”

Susanne swung her head to look at Jer in amazement.  After a brief pause as she tried to gauge if there was some hidden meaning in the comment, she recognised it for what it was, an ice breaker, and laughed nervously.

“No, not really.  We could talk about the weather if you want?  Or politics?”

“What about if we keep it simple to something like... um... grumbling about bus timetables?  That’s always a winner,” replied Jer in humour.

“Good one.  You start then,” acquiesced Susanne.

They chatted quietly for a moment or two, eventually swapping general but non compromising information, before Susanne interrupted Jer by asking, “So... do you?  Come here often?”

“Oh!  No, actually, we don’t.  This is the first time for me.”  He saw her puzzlement and clarified, “I’ve been to the club plenty of times because this is the same place that holds the Boys Only nights so that’s when we normally come.  Patrick used to come to the mixed nights a long time ago but he doesn’t do it now.  So this is all a bit new for me as well.  Even though I know where we are and what’s likely to go on, it’s a bit strange.”

“Right.  I thought for a minute that...” she hesitated trying to pick her words carefully.  “I thought you meant that you didn’t... you know... you and Patrick... er... that it wasn’t your thing either?”

He was puzzled at the flush of embarrassment he felt at her question but decided that he owed her his honesty.  “Oh,” replied Jer softly, “it’s my thing.  Most definitely,” and he squirmed unconsciously on the sofa at remembering the strapping he’d had not an hour since. 

Susanne caught the movement and assuming he meant that he’d also been spanked at some point tonight, slid a quick look down his body as though trying to imagine what his bottom might look like under his clothes.

“Sorry,” she muttered quickly and blushed intensely as she realised that Jer had caught her checking him out.  “It’s just all a bit... there’s a lot to try and understand and I don’t think I’m doing very well.”

“I think you’re doing great.  This must all be a bit daunting for you.”

“You could say that!  But... if Marcus... well, he’s entitled to find out, isn’t he?  Whether he likes it, I mean?  Because we said... um... we made a bargain you see.  Only, I couldn’t... he wanted me to... well, I just couldn’t, so this was the only option.”

“Well, I’m impressed.  Not every va... not everyone could cope with the idea.”

“You were going to say ‘vanilla’, weren’t you?  See, I’m trying to learn the language but I think that’s going to be about my limit.  So.  How come you and Patrick are here tonight if you don’t normally come?  Do you know Adela from elsewhere?” questioned Susanne bravely.

“No, I don’t.  Never met her before tonight, but Patrick knows her.  She rang Patrick because she remembered him and thought that he would do well for your husband.  That he would know how much... er... well, that he would deal with him... you know... properly,” trailed off Jer in awkwardness.


They both looked away quickly not quite believing the conversation they were having. 

Through the open door came the sound of a zip being lowered, a rustle of material and a soft ‘thwump’ as clothes were unceremoniously left to their own devices aided by gravity.

“So, he’s good then, is he?” squeaked Susanne swinging round once more to face Jer trying to block out the murmur of voices and helpful instructions along the lines of ‘bend over just a little bit more, that’s great’ and ‘lock your knees and remember, don’t clench your bottom’ that she could hear.

Jer smiled with pride.  “He’s very good.  Don’t worry; he’ll give Marcus exactly what he wants and no more.”

They were saved from having to go into further details by the sound of Adela’s voice drifting louder through the semi open door as she moved into place.  She smiled briefly at them with a nod of reassurance and turned back to look at where Marcus and Patrick would be placed.

Jer heard Patrick calmly ask, “Ready?”  There was no verbal response from Marcus but Jer knew that he had given the go ahead as seconds later he heard...


The first stroke of the cane brought about a loud gasp of shock but curiously enough, not from Marcus.  He contained himself to a grunt of surprise and a deep indrawn breath.  It was Jer and Susanne who had gasped aloud as if united in empathy.

Adela shot them a quick look to tell them that all was under control but at the same time warned them to contain their reactions. 


A louder grunt from Marcus and a drawn out ‘Ahhhhhh’ as he tried to cope with the pain and the unexpected burn he was feeling.

Jer could tell from the sound of the cane as it fell and then made contact that Patrick wasn’t going full force.  He was holding back on what he could do but was making sure that Marcus felt the strokes keenly.  Marcus was getting a proper introduction to the cane; it wasn’t by any means token, but it wasn’t going to traumatise him.  As a novice at all this, his backside wouldn’t be used to the type of punishment that some people could take but he would leave there knowing that he’d received a ‘real’ caning and whether he repeated the experience or not in the future, he could be proud of himself for that.


Jer and Susanne took turns in glancing nervously at each other out of the corner of their eye almost as if trying to adapt their reaction to each swipe of the cane on how the other acted.  There was a surrealist feel to the situation.  Each was thinking ‘That’s my partner in there with yours!  Can you believe this is happening?’

Susanne flicked her eyes nervously at Jer with an apprehensive look on her face, trying to assess him anew.  Was there anything in his appearance that proclaimed his likes to the outside world?   Would anyone else be able to tell if they met him in the street?  Perhaps there was a secret handshake like the Masons had or an ‘aura’ that surrounded these people… she hoped not.  She had accepted that Marcus was interested in this but that didn’t mean that she wanted other people to realise it.  There was also an element of ‘You like this?’ incredulity in the glances that she gave him.

Jer for his part was fascinated by watching someone whose partner was being caned. He’d seen plenty of men spanked and paddled over the years but most of them he’d viewed as couples, even if they were only temporary couples for the night.  They interacted with each other, were two equal parts of the same act and mainly focused on each other’s reactions rather than on someone else in the crowd.  Of the unattached men who had been spanked by Patrick, Jer hadn’t paid too much attention to them other than to make sure that they didn’t overstep the mark but he had never had to consider how a person might feel when someone else punished their partner... how it might feel being an outsider to something so intimate. 

Susanne’s face was fascinating.  He could almost feel her distress at the scene although she was fighting it and had schooled her face to hide it well.  At the same time her anxiety for Marcus was clear... she wanted this to stop but she wanted her husband to experience what he felt he needed.  There was something else as well, something that Jer couldn’t quite put his finger on... regret maybe? 


A squeal was quickly swallowed from inside the room and Susanne started violently.  Her body jerked as if instinct told it to run and protect her husband and she had to grip the cushions of the sofa to stop her hands from pushing herself up out of its seat.

She lost interest in looking at Jer and kept her eyes firmly on Adela through the door, whose calmness was encouraging.  Jer also switched to watching Adela and noted how her eyes moved in relation to what she was seeing.  She was obviously keeping a close eye on Marcus’s reactions and facial expressions as well as the state of his bottom.


That one had been harder.  The resonance of the cane descending was enough to tell Jer that, even if he hadn’t heard the low sob that came from within the room.  Susanne sat up straighter still and leaned forward, willing Adela to look at her and restore her confidence that they had taken the right decision.   She was startled from her vigilance as Jer placed his hand gently over hers and gave it a quick squeeze.

“I know it sounds brutal but it isn’t.  I mean, yes, it hurts, but honestly, he isn’t killing him.  It sounds worse because your imagination is taking over from your eyes and probably because... well, it’s not your thing, so you’re disposed to see it as... horrific?” he ventured gently.

She smiled acknowledging his words and his correct assessment of her feelings.

“And Adela hasn’t shown the slightest sign of intervening so in her experience, which I gather is considerable, he’s okay.  He’ll go away from here tonight with a fine set of lines on him and he’ll be very proud of them, believe me.  And he’ll be very proud of you as well.”

“It’s louder than I imagined,” whispered Susanne.

“Well, the cane isn’t a particularly loud implement; there are others that are more... um... scandalous, maybe?  I think that’s why a lot of people like the clubs... it provides soundproofing and keeps the neighbours from phoning the police.  But I admit it sounds serious.  And it can be a harsh implement in the wrong hands, like anything really, but if that’s Marcus’s thing and that’s what he wanted...” Jer trailed off leaving much unsaid.


Susanne nodded thoughtfully, turned back to look at the open door and with a firm grip on her determination, didn’t alter her pose throughout any of the remaining strokes that were delivered to her husband. 


“There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No, I suppose not, but it’s not something that I’d want to do again in a hurry.  Some of those women were really scary and not only the Tops.”

“They can’t have been that bad... while we were having a drink and a chat with the others afterward, you spent most of the time ogling them!” accused Patrick jokingly.

“I did not!” spluttered Jer.  “You liar!  I was just... looking... that’s all.”

“You were ogling.”

“I do not ogle women,” said Jer indignantly.  “I only ogle tasty fellas like yourself.”

“Which is how it should be,” murmured Patrick as he pushed shut the front door of their house with his foot and grabbed hold of Jer.  “Shall we retire upstairs to do a bit of mutual ogling?”

“Dunno... is that all we’re going to do?”

“Oh no, this is definitely one of those occasions when ‘look but don’t touch’ doesn’t apply.   Adela told me that Susanne said you were very supportive and gave her some good advice and a lot to think over so I think you deserve your reward for Good Behaviour.”

“Sounds like a plan.”


“Pat?  Did you see the size of the thighs on that woman dressed in the latex mini skirt though?  She had more muscles than me!  That ought not to be allowed.”

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I've created this blog in order to find a home for the adult male spanking stories I had originally posted on Tripod and who, in their dubious wisdom, decided to delete without notification. It may take me some time to work out how to post the stories in the way, place and order that I want them but with all fingers crossed and some sweary words thrown in, we should get there. There are a couple of unpublished stories that will be new to any of the previous readers and, it must be said, there has been a gap in the writing due to the pressures of a real horrible world but hopefully that changes soon. Happy Reading.