"If you forget my dry cleaning one more time, I'm going to have to go to work naked," Kennet said.
Vittorio, just finished shaving in the bathroom, made the expected remark about how jealous he would be of Kenneth's co-workers if that actually happened. The truth was, he couldn't have cared less.
At first, he'd found it a kick being with Kenneth. He'd never dated anybody rich before, or at least, not rich and willing to support him. And nobody could deny that Kenneth was attractive in a yuppie-ish sort of way. But after a year, Vittorio was beginning to get tired of being with a man whose idea of a big night was staying up until 11:30 to watch a Seinfeld re-run.
Yes, it was definitely time to move on to greener pastures. Just as soon as Kenneth actually went out and bought him that new sound system Vittorio had been pestering him for...
"I'm serious, _d_a_m_n_it," Kenneth said, sticking his blond head into the bathroom. "You've got to learn to be more responsible."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Vittorio yawned. "I'll get them today. Promise." In fact, he was supposed to check out a new art gallery with his best friend Damian, but maybe they'd have time to swing by the dry cleaners and get Kenneth's stupid clothes before they headed downtown.
"But you promised yesterday," Kenneth pointed out. "And the day before that. And the day before--"
"Jesus, Kenneth, let's not turn your dry cleaning into a federal case, okay? I'll get it today."
Kenneth muttered something under his breath.
"What?"
"I said, maybe it's time for your behavior to have some consequences."
Even when he was angry, Kenneth talked like an MBA. Vittorio sighed. "What do you mean?"
"Consequences. Like when you were a kid. I don't know about you, but if I'd promised to do something and then hadn't done it, my father would have taken me out behind the house and warmed my butt. That ever happen to you?"
Unexpectedly, Vittorio felt his penis stir. It had been months since anything Kenneth had said or done had inspired a reaction like that. Weird. "No..." he said. "My parents didn't believe in it."
"So you've never been spanked?"
"No. Well, yes. Once. I mean, there was a time with my older brother, but that wasn't...Oh, just forget it." _s_h_i_t_. Why had he gotten into that?
"What happened?" Kenneth's voice was calm, but curiously commanding.
Vittorio felt his _c_o_c_k_ grow even harder. "I...he found me going through his desk drawer. We weren't supposed to snoop in each other's rooms. He said either he could tell Mom, and I'd get grounded, or I could let him spank me and we'd forget the whole thing. I didn't want to be grounded, so I agreed to the spanking."
"And?"
"He made me take off my pants and bend over his desk. Then he slapped my butt with a metal ruler until I was bawling." Vittorio winced, remembering the sting. "Then he made me take my underpants down, too, and gave me ten more slaps with his hand. My ass was bright red when he finished, and the _d_a_m_n_ ruler left welts even through my underpants. I slept on my stomach that night, and I had to skip breakfast the next morning because I couldn't sit down. It really hurt..."
His voice trailed off. He was glad when Kenneth didn't press him for more details. How could he admit that, sobbing and clutching his behind, he'd barely made it back to his own room after the spanking before he came his brains out? For years afterwards, he'd beaten off to the fantasy of Paul spanking him again.
"Maybe that's the answer," Kenneth said. "Maybe what you need is a good, hard spanking."
Vittorio gulped.
"If you get my dry cleaning today, I won't spank you," Kenneth said. "But if you forget my dry cleaning again today, I promise you the spanking of your life. Understand?"
Vittorio nodded, relieved yet curiously disappointed by the second chance. "Yeah, sure, Ken. I understand."
"Don't forget."
He didn't forget. Not exactly. But Damian was driving, and Damian was running late as always, so they didn't have time to pick up Kenneth's laundry before they went to the gallery. And while they were at the opening, they met two of the handsome young artists who invited them out for a drink at the newest gay bar in town. One drink turned into two, two turned into six or seven, and it was after 5:00 when Vittorio looked at his watch and said, "Oh, _s_h_i_t_." Damian drove fast, almost lethally fast, but the dry cleaning place was closed by the time they got there. Vittorio was empty-handed when he walked into the house and found Kenneth waiting for him.
"Did you get my clothes?" Kenneth asked calmly.
"No. But it wasn't my fault. Damian was running late, and then he wanted to check out this bar, and we lost track of time, and I'm sure the dry cleaners closed a few minutes early, because we got there right at 5:30, and they were already locked..."
Kenneth nodded understandingly. "Some days are just like that. Do you want your spanking now or after dinner?"
Excitement and fear settled in the pit of his stomach. "Sp...spanking?" he said, embarrassed that the words sounded more hopeful than fearful.
"Of course. I warned you didn't I? You didn't keep your promise, but I will keep mine. Now, go upstairs to the bedroom. Move the straight-backed chair out of the corner and into the middle of the room. Then, go stand in the corner, face to the wall. I'll be up to punish you as soon as the news is over. I hope you enjoyed sitting in that bar, because I imagine it's the last time you'll sit comfortably for a few days."
Vittorio went upstairs to the bedroom, not sure what he was going to do next. He could go to Damian's. He'd crashed there before when whatever relationship he was in got too weird. Or he could march downstairs and tell Vittorio he had no intention of letting himself be spanked. It wasn't as if Kenneth could make him do anything he didn't want to do. Vittorio was larger, and decidedly more muscular.
But he had to admit--or at least, his _c_o_c_k_ did--that the idea of Kenneth swatting his butt excited him. What was the harm in exploring the fantasy?
He moved the chair Kenneth had mentioned to the center of the room and then went to stand in the corner. He felt a little foolish, a twenty-five year old man playing the part of a naughty child, but his _c_o_c_k_ was still hard.
A few minutes later, he heard the door to the room open. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Kenneth was holding a small novelty paddle in one hand. When had he bought that? Before Vittorio could ask, Kenneth swung the paddle, giving him a hard swat. His blue jeans offered plenty of protection, but even so, the blow stung. He rubbed a hand across his butt, and Kenneth smacked him again, harder. This time, the paddle caught him partly across the knuckles. "Ow!"
"Did I say you could turn around? Did I say you could touch yourself? This lesson is way overdue."
Vittorio braced his hands against the wall and tensed, waiting for more blows, but none fell. The room was so silent, he thought Kenneth might have left, but he didn't dare risk another glance back to find out for sure. A minute ticked by. Two. Then Kenneth said, "Come here."
Vittorio turned and saw Kenneth had seated himself in the chair in the middle of the room. Vittorio walked over slowly and stood in front of him, wishing there were some way to hide the erection straining at the crotch of his blue jeans. Kenneth ignored it. "Take down your pants," he said.
Vittorio opened his mouth to object, but a stern look from Kenneth changed his mind. He undid the top button on his jeans and lowered the zipper, then dragged the rough denim over his briefs to his knees. "Satisfied?" he asked, but his voice didn't sound nearly as _c_o_c_k_y as he'd wanted it to.
"Now your underpants."
"Oh, come on!"
"Now!"
Vittorio pulled his underpants down, too. His bottom felt cold and vulnerable. He was surprised to feel tears burn his eyes, and he blinked them back defiantly.
"Bend over my lap."
He couldn't. There was simply no way. "C...couldn't I lie on the bed, or lean over a chair, or something else?"
Kenneth shook his head and patted his thigh.
Trembling, but still embarrassingly erect, Vittorio moved to Kenneth's right side. He half expected Kenneth to reach down and pull Vittorio across his knees, but Kenneth only sat silently, waiting. Finally, Vittorio put a hand on his lover's shoulder and awkwardly lowered himself across Kenneth's lap. The thighs beneath his were warm and muscular, and the contact made his penis, now resting between Kenneth's legs, harder than ever. I'm going to come, he thought, and was glad Kenneth couldn't see his face.
"Hold onto the rungs of the chair, Vittorio, and don't let go until I say you can. If you interfere with the spanking, I'll have to start over." Vittorio closed his fingers around the smooth, cool wood. He clenched the muscles in his buttocks, trying to prepare himself for the first slap.
Instead, Kenneth patted him gently. The muscles in his buttocks twitched. "Since this is your first spanking, Vittorio, I'm going to start by giving you ten warm-up spanks. They'll hurt, but not much. After that, I'm going to spank you fifty more times, hard, with my hand. Those spanks will hurt. And to finish off, I'm going to give you ten swats with the paddle. Understand?"
"Yes, but--Ow!"
His protest was cut off by the first slap, hart and stinging on his right cheek. Another slap, this one on his left cheek. He didn't yelp, but the pain was just as real. _d_a_m_n_, was this what Kenneth considered a "warm up?"
Three spanks on the same spot. Vittorio gritted his teeth and shifted his weight. "Lie still," Kenneth ordered. Five more spanks, each a little harder than the last.
"Harder now," Kenneth remarked. "Hold on."
The first real spank caught him squarely in the center of his buttocks. He cried out in surprise and pain. Kenneth's hand against his ass had sounded like a god_d_a_m_n_ed pistol being discharged. Another spank, just as hard. Another. "Ouch, god_d_a_m_n_it, that hurts!" He started to struggle, but Kenneth clamped his free hand across Vittorio's back with surprising strength. Another spank, and another. Five more, all to the sensitive spot where his butt met his upper thighs. Then back to his right cheek, and his left. Several sharp blows to the sides of his bottom, making him wiggle and cry out. Slap! Slap! Slap!
He lost count of the blows, tensing his butt against the pain, then realizing it didn't help and trying to relax, only to tense up again as the next hard blow fell. Kenneth was spanking him over and over in the same spot now, hard and fast, not giving him any time to collect himself between the burning slaps. Vittorio's eyes burned with tears. "Ouch! God, Kenneth, stop. Please, stop!"
And like a miracle, Kenneth did. His hand stopped slapping Vittorio's bottom and started rubbing it gently instead. Vittorio gasped with relief and ran the back of his hand across his eyes.
Kenneth kept massaging his buttocks. "Let me know when you're ready for the paddle," he said, after a minute.
"What?" Vittorio tensed. "Not tonight. Please, Kenneth, I can't, it hurts too much. I'm sorry I forgot your dry cleaning, but it wasn't my fault and--"
Another hard smack with Kenneth's hand. "You still have ten swats with the paddle coming, and you know it. By rights, I should make it fifteen for trying to talk me out of your rightful punishment, but your ass is so red, I don't think you could take it. Now, hold on tight. It would be a shame to have to start all over now."
"Please, Ken, please--"
WHACK! The pain was intense and horrible, worse than his brother's metal ruler, worse than Kenneth's hand, worse than anything. Vittorio howled, but somehow managed to keekp his fingers wrapped around the rungs of the chair.
WHACK! WHACK! "Ow, Kenneth not so hard!"
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Tears rushed down his face. His breath came in gasping sobs.
WHACK!! WHACK!! A long pause. Had Kenneth finally relented? Vittorio's buttocks were on fire. His throat ached from crying. "Is it over?" he gasped.
"Not quite," Kenneth said. "I just wanted you to have a couple of seconds to think things over and realize I will no longer put up with your crap. Got it?"
Vittorio nodded.
!!!!!!WHACK!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!WHACK!!!!!!!
Even before Vittorio's scream of pain died away, Kenneth put down the paddle. "All right, Vittorio. That was ten. It's over."
For what seemed an eternity, Vittorio remained draped over Kenneth's lap, sobbing as his lover stroked the crimson flesh of his bottom and whispered soothing words. Slowly, as his tears dried and his breathing calmed, he realized that his _c_o_c_k_ was throbbing as if he'd just had an orgasm. He could feel a warm wetness on Kenneth's pants. "I think I came," he whispered, embarrassed and a little frightened all over again.
"I did, too," said Kenneth. Gently, he eased Vittorio upright so that Vittorio was sitting on his lap. Vittorio sucked in his breath as his raw backside came into contact with the rough cloth of Kenneth's pants. But he kissed Kenneth with a passion he had not felt in months. Or maybe years. Or maybe--probably--he had never felt this way before.
Kenneth kissed him back. "You took that very bravely," he said. "Especially for a first spanking. Your butt is the color of a ripe strawberry. We'll put some cold cream on it tonight, but I wouldn't count on sitting down much tomorrow if I were you."
"It's okay," Vittorio whispered. "Maybe I deserve it."
Kenneth chuckled and kissed his tearstained face. "No 'maybe' about it, boy toy," he said. "You've had that sore butt coming to you for months. Think this will help you remember to keep your promises from now on?"
Vittorio nodded. In spite of the lingering sting on his backside, he felt sleepy and peaceful in Kenneth's arms.
"I hope so," Kenneth said. "Because if this spanking wears off, I can always give you another one."
Vittorio felt his penis stir. "Really? If I _f_u_c_k_ up again, you'll spank me again?" He couldn't hide the naked hunger in the words.
Kenneth kissed him softly on the lips. "Count on it, honey," he said. "Count on it."