What Makes David Angry

by Chris <Cffemvn@aol.com>

okay guys, I admit it-- I changed the lover's name without realizing it till I looked back at the first story-- oops! I like this one better. (So punish me!)

I had often wondered what it would take to get David really mad at me. The first time he had spanked me it was for being inconsiderate-- extremely inconsiderate. But for another spanking, I would have to up the ante, somewhat-- I mean, he'd be annoyed if I put him off again, or ignored him like I had before, but he'd also be concerned, and he would treat it as a serious issue in our relationship, instead of just a reason to turn me over his knee for discipline. Which was what I wanted. So I had to find another way.

And I don't like being mean to David. I mean, I love him, which is why we're here in the first place. And I could have just asked for it, I guess, but that's not the same thing. I'd gotten turned on when David spanked me because he'd gotten mad, he'd gotten way more forceful than he is usually. He'd been aggressive. I mean, our relationship has the normal give and take-- sometimes he starts things, and sometimes I do, _s_e_x_ual aggressiveness is not our problem-- but that one time things were different, he was definitely, 100% in control and not interested in giving it up, and I'd never felt that before. I liked it. So here I was, waiting for an opportunity, unsure how to find one, and itching all the while for David to show me that side again. To let me know who was boss for an evening. To . . . well, to take control of me.

As usual with these things, the opportunity arose on the spur of the moment. And also as usual, it wasn't anything like what I'd expected.

David is a teacher. And among other professional organizations, he belongs to this gay educator's league or club or something. I don't remember. It's one of those things where every once in awhile they have a dinner and David and I get all dressed up in suits and ties or whatever and go off and do the _c_o_c_k_tail and buffet thing with a bunch of his colleagues and their significant others. It's social, really. But David always gets very stressed over these evenings, for some reason, and is always certain that he's going to come off badly, or offend someone, or something like that. I can't figure it out. He's perfectly confident every other day of the week. It's just this one gay league or club or whatever that for some reason has him off-balance.

I have to admit, I was being kind of bratty anyway, without even planning to. We were running late getting ready for the dinner. We were already well into the _c_o_c_k_tail time and were going to have to rush a bit to make the beginning of the buffet and have any time to small talk with anyone before the serious eating began. And it was pretty much my fault-- I'd forgotten the dinner so I hadn't planned ahead what to where. And like I said it's usually a suit but this night, for some reason, they'd decided to go casual so I had to come up with khakis and a shirt. Not easy for a bartender. I have jeans, I have t-shirts, I have tanktops to show off the delts and biceps, and I have three perfectly good suits for weddings and formal occasions, but I do not have very much in between. And then, of course, David, antsy as usual, wanted me to look perfect, whatever that meant. So it took awhile before I was comfortable and David was happy. He'd kept looking at me as I tried one thing after another on in our bedroom, checking his watch and frowning, not quite liking everything he was seeing. Like I said, he gets kooky about these dinners.

"Finally," he nodded at about the twentieth outfit, already heading for the door. "You look gorgeous." We'd found a pair of cotton slacks I'd forgotten I owned and a short-sleeve oxford shirt in a deep blue that showed off both my tan and my biceps. David didn't treat me as a trophy boyfriend-- hey, I have a college degree, too!-- but I knew he liked to make all those other queens jealous at these things. "Come on!" he was yelling, "We can just barely make the end of _c_o_c_k_tails if we run like hell and there's no traffic."

I hadn't left the bedroom. The idea of where this evening could really go was beginning to form in my mind. "Okay," I yelled, "I just have to pee, and then we can leave," I told him.

A word about David, while I'm on the subject. He's Greek, full-blooded, and I'm convinced Apollo is some sort of direct ancestor to my own beloved boy-- you know, those glistening black curls, that strong but boyish face, those wide eyes and that perfect skin, and of course he had lots of clothes for this sort of thing, he always looked gorgeous-- oh yeah, we were definitely going to be the center of attention at the teachers' party that night.

"You don't have time to pee, Ry," he informed me, coming back long enough to grab me and hustle me toward our front door. "We've got to get out of here now."

"Just one minute, Davy," I kind of whined. I was definitely in the mood to be bad and I'd grabbed onto my chance. "I can go pee and then we'll get going. I can't wait till we get to the resaurant."

"Ry--" and there wasn't exactly an edge to his voice, but there was the hint of one, the promise of one. One more bratty whine, I thought, and I might get a quick smack on the butt. Worse behavior than that and I'd get something much more serious.

Which was exactly what I was going for. I was going to be a bad boy. "Davy," I began, wheeling around to face him and planting myself in our hallway. I could see how stressed he was about going. He was staring first at his watch and then at me and practically twitching, really close to blowing up or something. Perfect. I turned on my biggest bratty act, whiny and demanding. "I don't wanna wait. I'll have to go the whole way there. Just hang on a minute." I started to push past him.

"Ryan--" he grabbed my arm and stopped me, and I braced myself for the slap on my behind, but it didn't come. "I'm sorry but we have to go. We're already late because it took so long for you to get dressed." He started propelling me again, moving us to the door. "Now, it'll be okay. We just have to leave."

See? He's really a great guy, even in the middle of being neurotic he was reassuring me. How could I deliberately annoy a man like that just to get what I wanted?

On the other hand . . . "Davy--" I pulled away and faced him again, and figured that I was going to have to really push it. If I wanted to get punished that night I was going to have to really go over the edge. David would have to spank me, and spank me good, I figured, if I made it impossible for us to leave right then. And if I was as rotten and naughty as it was possible for a boy to be, too.

"Davy," I began again, and by that time I had already started to pee in my pants.

"What?" he demanded, annoyed and frustrated almost past words.

"I'm going," I almost whispered, and then I sort of closed my eyes and wet my pants till I was done, at which point I looked up at him again. "I couldn't hold it," I almost giggled.

It's funny about that Greek conplexion. David didn't really get red. But he might as well have. The effect was the same. He looked down at the front of my pants, and then he looked up at my face. It must have been obvious, from how small the dark wet patch on my pants was, that I really could have waited, that I really hadn't had to go that badly. David was gritting his teeth as he spoke.

"Go get cleaned up, Ryan," he told me. "Then come out and see me. And don't you dare put one stitch of clothing on, do you understand me? Not even underwear."

"Yes, sir," I said to him, and hurried away.

I took a quick shower, left my clothing piled on the bathroom floor, and hurried back out to find David.

"Come here," he said. He was sitting on the bed.

"Yes, sir," I said again as I went to him. This was going to hurt, I thought. I shivered, half in excitement, half in dread.

David didn't speak to me again. Before when he'd spanked me he'd used his hand and a belt, and I'd sort of assumed that this time would be the same. But next to him on the bed there was no belt, just an old, wooden hairbrush that he'd had me bring him last time, but then hadn't used on me. I shivered again in fear.

"Get over here," David told me, and pulled me roughly across his lap. The warmth of his thighs and the soft texture of his cotton slacks felt fantastic against my _c_o_c_k_ and balls but I didn't get a chance to enjoy them because immediately his broad right palm was against my bottom. Not hitting me yet, not spanking my bare bottom, just stroking my butt cheek, rubbing against the skin and the soft fuzz of hair there. I thought that he would talk to me then, tell me how disappointed he was or yell at me or make me tell him I'd been bad. But there was silence as he stroked my butt, and then I heard him take a deep breath, and then he started spanking me.

He spanked me hard, and he spanked me steadily. No pauses, no rushing and then slowing down, just one good hard smack after another, hitting one cheek then the other then both at once, then the tops of my thighs-- the spanking covered my entire bottom and set every square millimeter to throbbing and burning. I took it, wanted it, but then it started to really hurt, to stop feeling good. And I still took it, gritting my teeth, but then the pain grew till I couldn't and I cried out and started squriming.

"David I'm sorry," I cried. "I'm sorry David. I'll do anything you say, I'll be good, I'll be good." And somewhere in there I was crying, and then I couldn't promise to be good anymore because I was crying too hard, weeping like crazy, and I would have choked on the words.

And David just gripped me harder and kept spanking till I wailed. I had never cried so much, I had never wept like that in my life. I kept crying for a long, long time after my spanking finished.

David didn't say or do anything, just held me there across his thighs and waited till I caught my breath.

"Are you finished crying?" he asked me when the tears had mostly stopped and I was breathing normally again.

"Yes," I answered.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

My ass felt like it had literally been set on fire and was burning, even then. The heat was so high I was sweating all between my legs and on my back. There was so much pain that when I thought about it I started to cry again. It hurt so bad.

"Yes," I gasped in a broken whisper.

He didn't answer, just waited till I finished crying for the second time. Then he wrapped his left arm around my waist even tighter and spoke.

"Your spanking isn't over," he informed me.

Shock! But then the sting of his hairbrush coming down against my burning right cheek. And then the left. And then across the center, spanking my bottom at its tenderest point.

"I'm going to spank you, and spank you till you never do this to me again," he said then. "I'm going to spank you all night and until tomorrow if I have to so you'll do what you've agreed to and support me like you say you will. I'm going to spank you every time you do anything, do you hear me, Ryan, anything that's not what you have said you will. If you say you will go with me to dinner, then you had better be right there, on time, ready to go, not one minute late. And if I ask you for a favor and you say you'll do it, you had better make sure that you do, or you will pay for it. I will spank you till I can rely on yhou, do you understand me, Ryan?" he demanded.

"Yes, yes, yeeeeees!" I wailed between tears, gulping my own salty taste as I struggled to answer him.

"Well, don't forget it," he said, and dropped the brush. I lay acroiss his knees and cried and cried for what must have been forty minutes after he'd finished spanking me.

More stories byChris