SLIPPERING PETER BAKER By Nigel Dean david.a@guyzstudio.com
I hope you find a little pleasure in this story, I have many more I will be submitting soon to Nifty but if you would like to have a read now just drop me an e-mail. I also have lots of genuine pics and some vid clips of me spanking - happy to share with anyone. Just Ask. HTML clipboard "Can I ask you something ?"
"Yeh."
"When you were at school did you ever get the slipper ?"
"Loads of times, and the cane once."
"It's not the cane that interests me but the slipper."
My mate Peter and I were camping in North Cornwall, we'd gone down to the West Country for some mackerel fishing, we hadn't caught much that day in fact we hadn't caught anything which is a fairly difficult thing to do given just how many fish there are in the Atlantic Waters off the North Cornwall Coast. But there was more to our holiday than fishing, as we chatted we both had a can of beer in hand with more than enough in reserve to last the night. Perhaps we would share a wank together later, that would be good.
"Did it hurt ?" Peter continued. Bloody silly question.
"Of course it hurt ! I had it once in PE wearing nothing more than shorts, that fucking hurt."
"Nice."
"What do you mean nice ? Wasn't nice at all !"
Peter was a little younger than I was, we had not been to the same school but became mates a couple of years prior to the time in which my story is set. Peter Baker was good looking with the cheekiest possible smile, long wavy dark hair and an toned body. Yes I had seen Peter naked several times and he had seen me as nature intended, we would often go to our local leisure centre for a swim and a sauna. Once when we were the only two there in the sauna we had wanked together, that was a fantastic time.
Peter smiled. "I was never slippered at school, I was far too much a good boy but I can't help wondering what it was like. Tell me."
"What is there to tell ? You were told to bend over, usually you had put your hands on your knees but sometimes it was bend over a desk the the teacher whacked a gym plimsole into your arse, usually three times."
"Did you ever get it on your bare arse?"
"No thank god but there was one teacher who in PE would make a lad drop his shorts and whack a naked arse."
"Did you ever see him do that ?"
"Yeh a couple of times."
Peter shifted from resting on his back and turned sideways to face me. The depth of his enquiry moved with his body position.
"Tell me, was being slippered horny ?"
"How can it be horny, it fucking hurt ?"
"I'd have found it horny, particularly if I had it with my shorts down and across a bare arse. I'd have probably got an extra one for having a stiff cock."
I wasn't particularly interested in reliving some painful schoolboy memories but if the conversation steered my friend to sharing a wank then I was happy to go along with it.
"I got a hard on once when the teacher in PE slippered ten lads and made them all stand in a line then pull their shorts down. Ten naked arses pointing towards me was fun. I was sitting on the gym floor so looking up towards them, yeh that was horny."
"God, I'd have loved that ! I'd have loved it even more if I was one of the ten."
"Yeh well you have got a nice arse, I'll give you that."
"Have I ?"
"Yeh."
"Would it have been good for slippering ?"
"Definately."
"I'd have liked to be bollock naked when slippered. Mmmm That would be so horny."
"Well you should have been a bit more naughty when you were at school."
"I could be naughty now."
"I bet you could."
"So if I was naughty would you slipper me, naked on my bare arse ? Now ?"
"There's not a lot of room inside this tent for that and besides the noise would be heard all over the camp site."
Peter shifted his body again, put down his beer can and moved his face close to mine. He spoke softly and looked into my eyes.
"Give it a few hours, wait until after midnight then we can wall out onto the headland, nobody will be about then. I'll strip bollock naked and you can slipper me. Hard."
I thought for a moment. "OK."
"See how hard you can make it."
"OK."
"See how hard you can slipper my arse and see how hard you can make my cock."
My own cock was rock hard as we talked. I'd not spanked anyone before although I knew it was a popular man-fun sexual pleasure. Peter Baker naked and presenting his arse to me was a prospect to send my cock into fits of solidity to equate with hardened steel. But there was more yet to come from Peter Baker.
"And would you be naked when you slipper me ?"
How my cock did not explode at that suggestion I can not understand. I felt it's warm shaft pressing hard against my lower abdomen. It was a dream, I must have fallen asleep but no it was real enough.
I don't remember what time we began our conversation, it was not dark and the summer sunshine penetrated the fabric of the tent. Slowly the light faded, we talking in the darkness, occasionally stitching on a torch when one of us needed another can of beer. The general background noise of the camp site dulled as one by one people turned into sleep. Sleep was the last think on my mind.
Peter shone the torch on his watch. "Give it another hour," he said, "then are you up for giving my arse the whacking of a lifetime."
Time perhaps to attend to the practicalities of what we were about to do.
"So you want me to whack your arse ?"
"That's the general idea. Smack it hard with one of your trainers."
"Teachers at school used to use a gym plimsole, I don't have one but I do have those canvas deck shoes I brought incase we went fishing from a boat some time."
"Show me."
I rummaged about an found my blue canvas shoes, I took the right one and handed it to Peter. He held the sole in his fist then whacked it into the palm of his other hand.
"Yeh that will do nicely. Surely there won't be anyone about now," he continued, "what do you say we make a start ?"
My cock had been hard for hours but eased its tension slightly as the hours crawled by, those words of Peter's sprang it back to attention. I would enjoy slippering my friend but it was the possibility of a post spanking wank really excited me. He was right there wouldn't be anyone else about that time of night.
"Let's do this."
It was a warm summer night, a cloudless sky but still warm in the air. There was a half moon so it was light but not as bright as a full moon would have been. We zipped up the tent and headed towards the gate in the field which led out to the cliff top path along the headland. To the north and away to our right the beam of Trevose Head lighthouse carved through the night. Away to the left the late nights of Newquay twinkled in the distance..
"I have wanted to have my arse whacked for ages," Peter giggled. "I can't wait."
"You are sure about this ?"
"Absolutely."
We walked far into the night then turned off the worn path treading carefully between the gorse, the sound of the Atlantic breakers several hundred feet below us filed the air and would deafen any sounds of my slipper falling on Peter's bottom. What if he cried out in pain ? Would they also drown the screams ?
"Here will do." Peter stopped suddenly. "Time to get naked."
He pulled his shirt up over his head then undid the button on his jeans before pulling them and his underpants down in a single movement. He hopped about as he tried to step out while keeping his trainers on.
"Better keep our shoes on, don't know what we might tread on in the dark."
I just stood and looked.
"Come on, get yours off," he giggled, "I want a totally naked slippering."
I hesitated for just a moment then joined my friend in midnight nudity.
"Nice cock," he smiled.
"It's not that you haven't seen it before."
My friend too was rock hard and pointing to the sky. He took his cock in his right hand and gave it a pump. "That's for later. Fist the slippering. How do you want me ?"
How was I actually going to do this ? I didn't know, I'd not done anything like this before. My mind tracked back to those schoolboy years. All those mates I had seen have their bottoms smacked. The times I had my own bottom whacked. I would do my best to emulate.
"You'd better bend over then."
"Like this." Peter leaned forward and placed his hand on his knees. He turned a head to look at me. "Is that OK ?"
I took hold of him just above the hips and adjusted ever so slightly his stance. There we were both naked save of trainers and socks, one bending over like a naughty schoolboy while the other stood in awe and amazement. I mentally pinched myself, no I was not dreaming. What a magnificent backside Peter had, two peach-formed cheeks rounded and full, bisected by a line, a line that suddenly brought to my mind thoughts I had not considered before.
I stroked the sole of the slipper across the two cheeks, carefully considering what I would do next.
"Ready ?" I asked.
"Ready," Peter confirmed.
I pulled my arm back and in the moonlight eyed where I would bring the slipper to rest. I prepared the muscles I would use and turned my mind to the force I would apply. It felt as if I were debating in the deepest parts of my mind for eternity what I was about to do, how I was going to do it. Eventually I switched off my mind and allowed my physical being to take over. Moving from my shoulder then down it's entire length my arm swung with the slipper descending. It hit with a resounding crack landing on both buttocks. I swear the sound was greater than the roar of the breakers on the rocks below, I hoped nobody heard. The crack was quickly followed by a gasp from Peter as he audibly released a reaction to the pain and at the same time taking a sharp intake of breath.
"You OK ?"
"Absolutely."
The second whack landed exactly on top of the first. It hurt Peter, his cry this time was of genuine pain but was followed by words telling me not to stop.
The first time I had been slippered at school I was only twelve years old, I was given two whacks over my boyish trousers. My offence ? Untidy presentation of work ! Did it hurt ? Too true it bloody well hurt !
My friend's bottom must also have been hurting, hurting more than my own slippering all those years previously. While I was thinking my auto pilot had kicked in and my arm was already descending for number three. Crack !
Three was the usual number for a naughty boy to receive. If the crime demanded more than three then it was probably the cant that would have been used not the slipper. That said a friend of mine was given six whacks with the slipper.
"You still OK ?"
"Yeh, Ok here." His words were tight, spoken through teeth clenched and fighting back an outward expression of pain.
"Want to stop ?"
"Not yet."
"How many ?"
"Go for six."
Even in the diminished light of the night I could see the marks I had left on my friend's beautiful arse cheeks. Six, three more ? Better get on with it.
WHACK ! That was four. I was not quite sure how I felt about what I was doing. In the short moments between strokes my brain computed at double speed. Back in the tent I had excited at the prospect of a naked spanking with my friend, when he bent over and presented his bottom to me it was erotic for sure. The first whack was sensual and a delight but as the punishment progressed and the obvious pain I was inflicting left me feeling ill at ease.
WHACK ! Number five. I stroked the slipper down with less force than before. Just one more and it would be over.
WHACK ! There, done it. Finished. I stood with my heart beating, chest pounding, mind racing - what now.
Peter rose slowly and placed the palms of his hands on his bottom, gently at first tenderly exploring the bruising I had given the never so gently he began to rub. I moved my hand to add its caressing soothing touch to the wounded area. As my palms rested on Peter he removed his own hands and let out a soft sigh of pleasure. I knelt down so my face was level with Peter's bottom then gently pecked a kiss on each cheek. I repeated the kissing a few times before Peter turned to face me, his rock solid cock directly in front of my face. During the slippering my own erection had lost some of its level of strength but now returned with terrifying velocity.
Peter placed a hand on his cock and made it point directly to my mouth. I salivated in anticipation before pecking a kiss on his head. I felt Peter gently pushing me towards him, pushing with his hand on the top of my head and pushing with his inner will sending psychic thoughts deep into my own mind.
My lips kissed the top of his cock again then parted ever so slightly to let the head into the front of my mouth. Peter was wet with precum which mingled with my saliva into an new and wonderful oral juice. My tongue wrapped it round his head. It was out of this world. I was out of the world of the spanking and transported to something quite new. Slowly I took more of my friend's manhood inside my mouth, more and more. With each portion I sucked deeper. With each portion of cock in my mouth I became more aroused.
My friend was already aroused, more aroused then he could contain. With a lurch of his body first of all backwards then then pressing against my face he came into my mouth. Looking back now I am amazed that I did not gag, my mouth was full of throbbing cock which fired hot plasma into my throat like a jet from a flame thrower. There was an instinctive reaction as my lips tightened to form a vacuum then with a single motion I swallowed. What a taste. it was beluga caviar, it was Chateau Lafite 1787, it was a meal served at The Ritz Hotel. There we were naked, the warm midnight air playing on our bodies, far below the Atlantic Ocean crashed against the rocks and I had just partaken of the finest meal from the menu of a master chef.
Eventually I released Peter's cock from my mouth. I needed him to suck me and relieve the latent forces coiled within me. But Peter had other ideas. He turned his back to me, his spanked bottom to me, again bending forward to present it once more but this time it was not for slippering. The tips of my fingers caressed the cheeks where just a short while before I had brought the pain of the slipper to rest. Gently they stroked the peach-like bruised surface before moving to the delineating line bisecting their shape and gently feeling a way inside. My index finger found what it was looking for, gently making its way inside. Peter responded with a warm sigh which deepened as a second finger made its way inside. But this was only the overture. Withdrawing I changed stance to position myself ready for the climax of our nighttime adventure. A hand on the side of each hip steadied us both as my cock began to probe its way to the ultimate destiny. I did not need to touch it, I did not need to guide it, nature took over and very soon I was inside my friend. Deeper I penetrated, deeper until finally my groin came to rest against Peter. The contours of our bodies met in a harmony of shape.
I left the position as it was for a time then gently withdrew before thrusting back in with a single driving force. This was a slow but determined action which I repeated a number of times before increasing the momentum until I was pounding in an out like a piston. My groin slapped against his bottom hitting almost as hard as the slipper had done earlier. peter was crying out in delight, crying loudly but I could not have cared who heard us. I had been sexually high for several hours so it was not long before I came. I came with a energy and strength the like of which I had not before been aware my body could contain. I thought I was going to explode.
Finally it was all over, the slippering, the sucking, the fucking. We began to pick up out clothing and dress. the night air now felt cool even slightly cold. The moon was still bright enough for us to see one another and the expressions on our faces. Peter looked at me and smiled.
"So that was the slipper. Tomorrow you can tell me about the cane."
"I thought you were not interested in the cane."
"I am now !"