♥ Site and Santa recommended story! ♥
A hot new Christmas tale by very special guest author JOELSTRAP. This story is exclusive to The Canery! All the characters are 18 or older. WARNING: ADULTS ONLY!
The Gilded Fir Cone by Joelstrap
Kev strode swiftly through the park, his breath clearly visible in the icy air of early morning. Frost rimmed every branch of the bare trees and lay white on every blade of grass. Black ice made sections of the path potentially treacherous and Kev kept half an eye on the ground before his feet while also enjoying the December sunrise as light filtered through the skeletal tree branches making them stand out, dark against the sky. A few ducks, baffled by the frozen surface of their pond, waddled around uttering plaintive quacks of protest. Kev paused, pulled a paper bag containing some crusts from his pocket, and tossed them to the birds, who flapped eagerly towards him, each trying to get to a tasty morsel before its rivals. Slowly the sunlight reached down to ground level and a wave of colour swept across the park as the monochrome shades of pre-dawn were washed away and the frosty grass glowed deep green under the morning.
The children’s playground was deserted, iced in a pristine coating of frost, and the huge Christmas tree was dark, its lights extinguished until they would burst into light again with the falling of the dusk. On summer mornings, Kev would often meet early dog walkers, joggers, workers taking a shortcut through the park to the town centre; but on this bitterly cold morning a few days before Christmas he had the place to himself and across the broad swathes of grass and on the paths and benches around the gardens and pond, there was no-one to be seen. He turned along a minor path which twisted among clumps of rhododendrons and which was lined with small alcoves containing benches where one could sit at leisure in summer sunshine. In the bleak, chill December light, all was quiet, still, deserted.
Kev stopped abruptly. Not far ahead he spotted a pair of trainers extending on to the path. He could see the lower part of slim, denim-clad legs, but all else was hidden from view by the bushes. This was unexpected. It appeared that on this morning, Kev didn’t have the park to himself after all and someone was sitting on a bench not far away. It was not the kind of morning for sitting around in Kev’s opinion, the temperature still being well below freezing, and he felt a momentary pang of anxiety. He strode forward and stopped to look down at the figure on the bench.
He was young. The ubiquitous uniform of youth, trainers, blue denim, t-shirt, all indicated that; but he was wearing a heavy parka and had a black woolly hat on his head. From beneath the rim of this an exuberance of fair curls clustered along his forehead and round his ears. He was clean-shaven but with a slight growth along his upper lip and jawline. On hearing Kev’s approach, he glanced up, forget-me-not blue eyes taking in the tall, black-haired young man who was standing looking down at him. Kev registered, to his surprise, that the boy wasn’t holding a smartphone, but a small wooden object at which he’d been gazing.
“You okay, mate?” asked Kev. “Bloody cold to be sitting on a bench.”
“Yeh. I’m good. Just thinking.”
The voice was deeper than Kev expected. He waited, but the lad offered nothing more. Kev looked more closely. There was an aura of sadness about the youngster and on his cheek was a faint track where a teardrop had recently slid down.
“Look, I don’t want to intrude,” began Kev.
“Well, don’t,” retorted the boy.
“You need to be spanked hard,” Kev informed him with some asperity.
That got a reaction. The boy’s head came up sharply and he stared at Kev.
“You what?” he demanded irately.
“Spanked hard,” repeated Kev.
“Oh, yeh? And who’s gonna spank me? You?”
“If you like.”
“Like? Of course I don’t fucking like!”
“Maybe be a bit more polite then,” suggested Kev. “You look cold. Wanna come and have some hot coffee. My treat.”
“You trying to pick me up?” demanded the lad, rising to his feet.
He was about an inch below six feet with all the willowy slenderness of youth. Maybe eighteen or nineteen, thought Kev; no more.
“You’d sure be worth picking up,” Kev told him frankly, “but at the moment all I’m doing is offering you a hot coffee and maybe even a bacon roll. It’s not compulsory,” he added.
“Oh, that’s okay then,” replied the boy sarcastically. “I thought maybe I’d get spanked if I didn’t accept.”
“Spanking isn’t compulsory either,” said Kev, “but you’re more likely to get spanked if you do accept my invitation than if you don’t.”
The boy stared at him for several seconds.
“You’re weird,” he announced.
Kev didn’t miss the fact that the youngster was checking him out, his eyes roaming freely over his body and even lingering briefly on the bulge in his groin, which had swelled considerably in the last minute or so. He waited.
“So, are you coming?” asked Kev. “I’m Kev, by the way.”
“Barry,” said the youth; and after a moment’s hesitation, he accepted Kev’s outstretched hand.
“Shit, you are fucking freezing,” declared Kev as he gripped the boy’s chilly hand. “Come on. Now! You need to get warm.”
He set off along the path and was pleased to see the lad come along by his side.
“Student?” enquired Kev, eyeing the rucksack slung over Barry’s right shoulder.
“Yeh. Classes don’t start until nine o’clock though.”
“So what the hell are you doing sitting on a frosty bench in the park, freezing your balls off just after eight o’clock then?” asked Kev.
Barry shrugged.
“Wanted to get out of the house.”
“Why?”
“Just to think.”
“It’s almost Christmas,” observed Kev.
“Funnily enough, I’d noticed,” retorted Barry.
“Still wanting to be spanked, huh?” said Kev.
Barry stopped.
“Look, what’s with you and spanking?” he demanded truculently. “Nobody gets spanked these days and no way are you gonna spank me.”
“You ever been spanked, Barry?”
“Course not!”
“Ah, well. I guess you’ve just been unlucky,” replied Kev.
“Unlucky? You really are weird.”
“And sitting alone on a park bench in the cold isn’t weird?” enquired Kev.
“Yeh, okay. I guess it’s not the most normal thing to do, but…….”
He broke off and glanced down at the small wooden object he was still holding. Kev couldn’t see what it was.
“Come on! Let’s get that hot coffee,” he said and led the way to the park gate and into the town centre where he ushered Barry into the warmth of a small cafe.
“Bacon roll?” enquired Kev.
“You shouldn’t be………”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes, please.”
Shortly they were facing each other across a small table, each with a mug of hot coffee and a large bacon-roll in front of him.
“Thanks,” said Barry as he engulfed a large chunk of the roll and eyed Kev from beneath his brows. “So, why are you doing this? You want something, huh?”
“No red-blooded gay guy wouldn’t want you,” said Kev, “but it’s a two way street. You’d need to want me too.”
“Why do you think I’m gay?” asked Barry.
Kev raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not blind. You been checking me out ever since I first stopped in front of you in the park.”
“Oh! That obvious, huh?” said Barry, flushing bright red.
“Fuck! You’re hellish cute when you’re embarrassed,” Kev said.
Barry went redder still and tried to hide his face in his coffee mug.
“Not long to Christmas,” said Kev, “but you look like you’re kind of short on the Christmas spirit. Tell me what that is the you’ve been clutching so carefully.”
Barry’s head came up sharply.
“Don’t miss much, do you?” he said quietly.
For a moment he was silent and then he laid on the table a large fir cone which had gold paint on the top and along the tips of its segments.
“What’s that?” asked Kev.
“It’s a fir cone,” replied Barry. “Okay, okay! You don’t need to say it! I need to be spanked,” said Barry hastily as he saw Kev’s eyebrows rise steeply. “It’s a Christmas tree decoration.”
“Yeh, I managed to work that out too,” admitted Kev.
“But it’s……special,” said Barry.
Kev waited while Barry took another large bite out of his roll and chewed energetically.
“See, my granddad made it way back when. He was a boy at the time and there was quite a big family of them and not much money, so all the kids made their own decorations for the tree. They kept them over the years and when my dad and mum got married, he gave dad the fir cone to put on their tree every Christmas. All the other decorations on our tree came from shops; you know the kind of thing. Coloured balls, strings of lights, candy-canes, tinsel and all the rest of the shit; but the cone was always there too. Dad put it on the tree last, when all the other decorations were done. Kind of a family tradition, you know?”
Kev nodded.
“So this fir cone has some connection with your dad, Barry?” asked Kev gently.
There seemed to be a mistiness about Barry’s eyes.
Barry nodded and swallowed, but said nothing.
“Left?” asked Kev.
“You could say that.”
“Ah!”
“What the fuck do you mean by ‘ah!’?” demanded Barry. “And don’t you dare say I need to be spanked for being insolent!”
“But you do,” observed Kev.
“Yeh, well, see if I care.”
“You’d soon care if I spanked you,” said Kev.
Barry eyed Kev’s well-developed biceps.
“Maybe,” he admitted; “but you haven’t told me what you meant.”
“Your dad died?”
Again Barry nodded wordlessly.
“I’m sorry. Recently?”
“Just under a year ago. Fortnight after Christmas last year. Some bloody Christmas present, huh? Aggressive cancer; nothing anybody could do. Bounding around in the summer just as always and then suddenly……..well, he wasn’t any more, was he?” said Barry challengingly.
Kev laid a hand gently on Barry’s hand where it rested on the table, and gave a firm squeeze. Barry looked down.
“You want me to move my hand?” asked Kev.
“Will I get spanked if I say ‘yes’?” asked Barry.
“More likely to get spanked if you say ‘no’.”
“No,” said Barry.
“Like to tell me more about the fir cone?”
“We were decorating the tree a couple of weeks ago and of course I found it in the box, and……. it just brought it all back. I….I couldn’t put it on the tree, because…….because he wasn’t here any more. I dunno. It seemed like the fir cone was a bit….a bit of dad; and if I put it on the tree, it was like pretending he was still here; and he’s not. Silly, huh?”
Kev squeezed Barry’s hand harder.
“Not silly,” he said.
“I don’t get spanked for being a dumbo?”
“No; ‘cos you’re not a dumbo.”
“Thanks. I was out in the park because I just wanted to think about dad, by myself, no brothers and sisters around; just kinda like him and me; like……like it used to be before…..before……”
The tears swimming in the clear blue eyes brimmed over and Kev felt a warm drop land on his hand.
“What do you miss, Barry? I mean, exactly what do you miss?”
Barry sniffed and angrily dashed away tears from his face.
“Should be spanked for being a stupid kid,” he muttered ruefully.
“You seem to be changing your mind a bit about being spanked,” observed Kev.
“Eh? Oh, well, yeh, you going on about it so much, I guess maybe if guys still got spanked, I might need it,” said Barry.
“No ‘might’ about it,” said Kev firmly. “You’d definitely get spanked.”
“Right,” replied Barry, looking doubtful.
He scrubbed at his nose for a few seconds and then glanced at Kev before swallowing a large gulp of coffee.
“See, in a way that’s one of the things I miss,” he said.
“Your dad used to spank you?”
“No way!” snorted Barry, “but he did keep me in line. Dad didn’t take any nonsense. I had to behave myself; we all did; and I didn’t like getting grounded or my ‘phone taken away or whatever; so I guess I pretty much watched my step. But now, well I can do what I like, more or less. It’s not that mum doesn’t care, but she’s working full-time, she just can’t keep an eye on all of us and she has to spend most time with my younger brothers and sisters.”
“So you get into trouble, Barry?”
“No, no, not with the law if that’s what you mean. I don’t go around beating up old ladies or vandalising the kids’ play park or smashing shop windows; but I’ve done a bit of experimenting with drugs and smoking; dad would’ve locked me in my room on water and no bread if he’d known about that,” he added with a rueful grin. “And I probably spend too much time with my mates and not enough time studying. Wouldn’t have got away with that if dad had still been around. Old sod used to examine my school homework every week and I bet he’d have done the same with my college essays; and made sure he kept my nose to the grindstone.”
“And you miss that?”
“Daft, huh? You’d think I’d be over the moon that nobody was breathing down my neck, but somehow it’s not like that. It’s not just that I’ll probably fail my exams if I don’t buck up; it’s just that I miss someone bothering about me. Shit! I used to moan about him plenty to my mates; but still…….he cared. And I felt bloody good when I didn’t have to re-sit any of my school exams and some of my mates did. Realised that maybe the old man knew what was good for me, even if I didn’t appreciate it at the time!”
“But you appreciate it now, Barry?”
“Yeh.”
He turned the fir cone over in his hand.
“I miss him,” he added.
“So the fir cone reminds you of your dad and the presents he used to give you at Christmas maybe? Okay; but you said it was a link to your dad and so maybe to the presents he gave you all year, eh Barry?”
“What? You mean on my birthday?”
“Not just that. He gave you love and care every day, even if it seemed a bit tough at times, and you wish you still got that present. I think the fir cone means everything your dad gave you,” suggested Kev.
Barry sat very still and quiet for a long time.
“But I can’t have him back,” he said softly.
“What you need is structure; a discipline in your young life; a guy who reins you in when you need it, for your own good,” said Kev.
“Sure! Just give me my dad back for Christmas, why don’t you?” snapped Barry.
“Wow! You’re determined to demand a spanking, aren’t you,” observed Kev.
“Okay. I’m sorry I was rude; but you can’t give me back my dad,” he added.
“I never said I could; but I could take you in hand, keep an eye on your studies, haul you back into line when you do stupid things like dabbling in illegal substances, give you a few red lines – and punish you if you crossed them,” offered Kev.
“You can’t ground me or take away my mobile,” objected Barry.
“No; but every guy has his own way of disciplining a boy who needs sorted out. That was your dad’s way. My way is a good spanking,” Kev informed him.
“But you can’t spank me!”
“Why not?”
“Well, because……because…..”
“Yes, Barry?”
“You just can’t!!”
“You got a boyfriend, Barry?”
“Er, no, not just now. I split with my last one in the summer.”
“A strong boyfriend who kept you on a tight rein could work wonders for you,” said Kev.
Barry stared.
“You offering?”
“Yup!”
“But….but why?”
“Because you’re as sexy as a cartload of raccoons; you’ve got an arse to die for; and almost as soon as I saw you in the park, my cock tried to burst out of my pants,” declared Kev firmly.
A tide of red rose swiftly from Barry’s neck right up to his hairline. He suddenly squirmed in his seat. Kev grinned.
“Looks like I get you in the balls too, Barry-boy!”
“Er, yeh. I dunno……it just…..oh, fuck!”
Barry plunged a hand into his jeans and did some urgent rearranging.
“But if you were my boyfriend, we’d do……what boyfriends do?” said Barry, going red again.
“You bet! I couldn’t keep my hands off that gorgeous body of yours; and I’d want to feel your hands all over mine,” Kev informed him. “Buck naked, squirming and writhing until the spunk was exploding like volcanic eruptions,” he went on, making things quite clear.
Barry gasped and his hand once again darted into the front of his jeans.
“But you’d….you know…..you’d spank me as well if I fucked up?” he asked breathlessly.
“Every time; hard; on the bare; with a cane,” said Kev grimly.
“Cane?” squeaked Barry. “Where the hell does a cane come into it?”
“Well, a hand or maybe a slipper is okay for a younger lad if he needs a spanking; perhaps even a small paddle or a hairbrush if he’s a bit older. Spanking has to be done with an implement that’s appropriate to the boy getting it. How old are you, Barry?”
“I’ll be nineteen in the spring.”
“So, a young man; and a young man needs a young man’s discipline. For you that would definitely mean the cane.”
“But that’s fucking barbaric,” Barry burst out. “Lashing a guy’s bare arse with a bloody cane. It’d hurt like shining hell!”
“Course it would,” said Kev with a grin. “It’s meant to. That way you get the message. That way you learn. That way you behave yourself, work hard, mind your manners, because you don’t want it again if you can help it.”
“You started in the park telling me I needed a spanking and now you’re telling me I need to be beaten with a ruddy cane?” asked an outraged-looking Barry.
“That’s right. Strip naked, bend over with your hands on a chair, and then six of the best with a nice, slim, whippy cane across your bare bottom. Hurt like fuck and give you some marks to think about for a day or two. It won’t be your dad back again; but it will get you under control and make you realise somebody cares enough to take some trouble with you,” Kev assured him.
“Thrashing the living shit outta my bare arse shows you care about me!?”
“Just like being grounded by your dad, or losing your mobile, showed he cared about you.”
“Yeh, I guess; but a fucking cane!”
“You too much of a baby to take a beating, Barry?”
“I never said that! I’m not a baby!”
“Okay. So, you up for it?”
“What? You think I’m just gonna say, Oh, please, Kev, just cane the fucking daylights out of my arse. It’s exactly what I want for Christmas? That’ll be right.”
“Since you’ve asked so politely, I can hardly refuse to cane you,” observed Kev.
“I didn’t ask! I was being sarcastic!” yelped Barry.
“Which I said earned you a spanking away back in the park; and I’ve lost count of the times you’ve been sarcastic and insolent since. You need a really hard caning, Barry. It’ll be the best Christmas present you ever got; and like all really good presents, it’ll just keep on giving.”
“You mean you’re planning to keep on caning me all year?” gasped Barry.
“I’m sure your dad punished you with grounding and all the rest of it all year, didn’t he? Caning is my equivalent, so you get it all year, whenever you need it,” Kev informed him. “Now, it’s time you got off to your first class and I need to get to work, so meet me here,” Kev continued, “at seven o’clock this evening and I’ll take you back to my place and cane you. Don’t be late.”
“Oh, and what happens if I’m late? You’ll flog me raw?” demanded Barry.
“If you’re late, I’ll have gone and you won’t get caned and you’ll probably never see me again. Have a good day!” said Kev; and he walked out, leaving Barry staring open-mouthed at his retreating back.
He swallowed the last of his coffee and then made his way slowly along to the college buildings to attend his first class. All morning he relived in his head the curious conversation he’d had with Kev and the command to meet that evening, so that he could be caned. He swung wildly between laughing the whole thing to scorn in his head, and resolving to go through with it, just to find out what it felt like to have a cane used on him. At lunchtime he gave his pals the slip and retreated to a quiet corner of the library, took out the fir cone and started to examine his feelings. He admitted to himself that the sense of loneliness and isolation he’d been experiencing as he sat on that chilly bench earlier, had dissipated completely. He realised he missed his dad’s control, caring and discipline much more than he’d been aware of; and, leaving aside the seriously outlandish idea of being beaten with a cane, he accepted that someone like Kev in his life could restore an important element of what his dad’s death had taken from him.
More than that though, there was Kev himself. Barry closed his eyes and allowed himself to visualise Kev, roaming in memory over his lean, hard body, admiring his thick black hair, seeing in his head the generous bulge in the front of Kev’s jeans. Kev was all he could want in terms of a sexy, good-looking boyfriend. He guessed Kev would be three or four years older than he was; and Barry admired Kev’s dominance and self-confident handling of him.
Do I want never to see him again? Barry decided he didn’t like that idea at all. Do I want to have a cane used hard on my bare buttocks? Barry didn’t really like that idea either. He looked long and hard at the fir cone. Kev had said that it was important because it linked him to his dad and to giving at Christmas time. He’d made it clear he wouldn’t be his dad all over again. He’d be a boyfriend and that definitely meant something very different to being a dad! All the same, he’d bring some of the aspects of his dad that Barry most missed; the structure and discipline; and the love.
Barry considered this carefully. With Kev it would be a very different kind of love; but it would achieve the same end, making Barry secure, cared for and firmly guided in the way that was best for him.
So, I want that. That’s what you’re saying to me, isn’t it, dad? he whispered softly as he stroked the fir cone. You’re telling me to take the present Kev’s offering and find a sense of happiness again. Right! So, now there’s only one question left. Am I going to accept?
*****************************
Kev was fairly sure of Barry, but there was yet an element of doubt. It was always possible that the prospect of the cane would be too much for him and he’d get cold feet and not turn up. Just before seven o’clock, he turned the corner into the street where the cafe was and felt a jolt of pleasure when he saw Barry pacing nervously outside.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I hoped you would.”
“And now you’re gonna cane me?”
“Are you ready to be caned?”
“No.”
Kev looked questioningly at him.
“Well, how can I be ready when I don’t really know what to expect?” demanded Barry reasonably.
“You can expect it to hurt,” said Kev.
“Funnily enough, I’d worked that out for myself.”
“That’s the kind of sarcastic comment that started you down the road to the cane,” Kev reminded him.
“So, you gonna get on with it?” asked Barry.
“Come on then!”
Kev led the way and brought Barry after a few minutes’ walk across the park and down some side streets, to a basement flat under a large, detached house. Inside, Barry was shown into a cosy room with French windows on one wall.
“The ground slopes a good bit,” said Kev as he closed the curtains, “so at the back of my flat I’ve got access to a garden. Now, do you want a coffee and mince pies and then the cane; or would you rather have the cane first?”
“I’d rather not have the cane at all.”
“Clever remarks like that are liable to get you two sets of six of the best instead of just one,” said Kev.
“Sorry,” replied Barry quickly. “I’ll take the cane first, please.”
“Much better,” observed Kev. “Very polite. You’re learning. Okay; time to get ready. Strip.”
Barry immediately began to remove his clothes and Kev watched with growing delight as the youngster’s charms were revealed. Barry hesitated for a few seconds with his hands on the waistband of his briefs, and then suddenly pulled them off to release a substantial erection. Kev whistled softly.
“You want to be caned, don’t you?” he said.
“We…e…ell, I dunno,” said Barry. “My body seems to like the idea, but my brain’s not so sure.”
Kev placed a wooden stool in the middle of the floor and instructed Barry to bend forward over it with his hands gripping each side, his feet well apart.
“Now there are certain rules a boy has to observe when he’s being caned,” said Kev. “You don’t move out of position until I tell you to do so. You keep your feet on the floor in the position they’re in now. You keep your hands on the edges of the stool at all times. You keep your elbows and knees locked. You remain as still as you can and as quiet as you can. Understand me, Barry?”
“Yes.”
Kev went across to a cupboard and extracted his cane. He slashed it hard downwards and Barry winced at the sound it made. Kev took a handful of Barry’s fair curls and turned his head firmly to look up at the cane. Barry saw a slim rod, pliant and whippy.
“You’ll feel this,” Kev told him. “You’ll need to work hard to stay in position and take your six strokes; but you’ll do it. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
Kev rapped the cane a few times across the centre of Barry’s sit spots and watched the boy tense his body in readiness. He observed with delight that the youngster was still fully aroused. He raised the cane and hit firmly and accurately. Barry flinched and his body quivered slightly. Kev hit again a little lower and with a bit more force. He watched with pleasure as Barry clenched his gluteal muscles and processed the sting. A glance underneath the boy showed that his penis had lost nothing of its eagerness. The next stroke was lower still and a sibilant hiss of pain escaped Barry as his buttocks tensed and quivered. Kev laid a hand on his shoulders.
“Keep still and keep quiet,” he said softly.
Barry cursed him vehemently in his head but a part of him remembered the earlier accusation of being a baby and he was resolved to prove to Kev that he was a young man. Besides, fierce though the sting of the cane strokes was, Barry was also aware of a certain buzz; and he knew that he was still as hard as he’d been when the beating started.
The fourth stroke lashed hard, low down across Barry’s bottom, and an intense streak of fiery pain seared through his flesh. A gasp escaped him and he writhed, urgently clenching his buttocks.
“You’re not trying hard enough to keep still,” said Kev.
“I am trying!” Barry protested, “but that’s fucking sore!”
“Tough! You keep still when I tell you. Got it?”
Barry swallowed and then, “Got it,” he replied quietly.
He was aware that his penis had sagged a bit, but as his resolve to keep still when told hardened, so did his cock. He resolutely steadied himself, breathed deeply, and awaited the next stroke. He wasn’t entirely sure why it felt so important to comply with Kev’s demands, but he knew that he was going to try all he knew to do so.
The fifth stroke landed lower still, etching a blazing furrow of pain across the underside of his bottom and his knees bent briefly as he squirmed; but recovery was swift and he forced himself back into position.
“I know!” he snapped before Kev could say anything. “I tried, okay?”
“So try harder,” ordered Kev remorselessly.
Barry made a supreme effort and kept his fury in check. He was not going to behave like a spoiled kid. He was going to show that he was a young guy who could cope with severe adversity. It didn’t matter that what was being demanded of him was unreasonable. What mattered was that Kev was doing the demanding and so he had to give everything to comply. Once more, he steadied his quivering body, calmed his tense muscles and waited in silence. The lithe cane probed his bottom again, exploring the sensitive flesh where his buttocks merged smoothly into the tops of his legs. Barry had already learned that the strokes became increasingly painful the lower down his behind they were delivered; and he knew that the sixth lash of the cane was going to be the most excruciating yet. He was not disappointed. A pain like a serrated knife being ripped through his flesh excoriated the tender skin of his crease and a barely-stifled squeal was driven from him as his body bucked violently. He fought desperately and successfully to keep his hands on the sides of the stool, riding out the torment with white-knuckled determination. Slowly, he allowed his body to relax a little as the tidal wave of agony ebbed; and to his surprise, his penis which had gone into almost total retreat after the fifth stroke, began a tentative and then a more confident rise. He knew he’d failed to keep still or silent, but he’d done it. He’d taken six of the best and had survived. Surely Kev didn’t think now that he was a baby.
Kev came round to his head and, grasping a handful of hair, turned Barry’s face upwards. He saw pain-contorted features and tear-streaked cheeks; and the beginnings of a triumphant smile.
“Sorry,” said Barry. “But I really, truly tried to keep still and quiet. Honest; I did!”
“It was actually pretty good for your first time,” Kev told him, and Barry’s heart gave a joyful leap. “I hope you’ll do better next time.”
“Next time?”
“Discipline has to be ongoing, Barry. You know that. That’s how your dad was handling you. The only difference is the method of discipline. He grounded you. I cane you. Bad behaviour, disobedience, insolence, laziness, poor work; they will all incur penalties with me just as they did with your dad. You’ll definitely be feeling my cane again. Understand?”
“Yes; but I’ll try hard to see that it’s not very often.”
“Ready for mince pies?”
“Yes, please.”
“Up you get and get your kit back on.”
Barry rose slowly to his feet and for a few seconds felt his way wonderingly along the throbbing welts on his bottom before he began to dress. Kev watched him admiringly. The boy had taken the cane extremely well, and Kev was deeply impressed, but he had no intention of letting Barry know that. Better to maintain the pressure on him to make still more of an effort next time.
The pair consumed coffee and mince pies and Barry felt himself sink into a state of contentment. The coloured lights of the Christmas tree twinkled in the window; strands of tinsel hung around the pictures on the wall; brightly-wrapped presents lay piled in a corner.
“Still got your dad’s fir cone?” asked Kev.
Barry nodded, reached for his parka and took it from one of the pockets. He placed it on the coffee-table. Kev took Barry’s head carefully in both hands and held him still while he kissed him. Within seconds Barry was responding and the two sank into an increasingly exciting intimacy, culminating eventually in the explosive release of copious quantities of boy-cream.
“I think I’m ready to put dad’s fir cone on the tree now,” said Barry. “One of the important things that he gave me is back in my life.”
He disentangled himself from Kev and stood, picking up the fir cone from the table as he did so.
“I didn’t think you were going home so soon,” said Kev. “It’s only eight-thirty.”
“Home? Who said anything about going home yet?”
“But you said you were going to put the cone on the Christmas tree.”
“Sure. But just for tonight, it’s on this tree. Your tree.”
Barry placed the fir cone carefully near the tip of a prominent branch, just beside a small candy cane.
“Now,” said Barry, sliding confidently back into Kev’s waiting arms, “I’ve done the symbolic stuff. So how about you take me in hand and get me on a tight rein and give me what I need!”
Kev gave him a very hard slap on his bare bottom and Barry yelped as his cane welts were fired painfully. Before the boy could utter a protest, however, Kev had closed his mouth on Barry’s in a passionate kiss and taken control of his body, driving him to the heights of ecstasy and taking him for his own. As they drew carefully apart for a few moments, Barry glanced over Kev’s shoulder and his eyes rested on the gilded fir cone.
I think I got the best Christmas present, he thought to himself. And it was all because your fir cone led me to the park early that morning, dad. I never thought a cone would lead to a cane! I guess you knew what I needed though, dad. Thanks. Thanks for making it Christmas for me.
Kev was watching him. Barry slid his focus from the fir cone back to Kev’s face, and smiled.
“Happy Christmas, Barry!” said Kev as he kissed him tenderly.
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D I S C L A I M E R
All characters and businesses appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Story ©MMXXV by Joelstrap, used here by very kind permission.
Joelstrap’s excellent earlier stories for The Canery are available here.
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