The hardest thing I do every week is make "the call." Every Sunday evening when I leave his place I swear that it will be last time. With my butt stinging against the seat of my car as I drive out of the gates of his condo complex, I swear out load that it will be the last time.
But by Thursday afternoon I'm wreck of anxiety and I've been that way all day. Today is Thursday and it's almost 5 o'clock. My stomach is in knots, I feel antsy and my upper lip is sweating. My hands shake as I punch in his number.
I hear the phone ringing on the other end. I'm in a panic and hope he's not in. I'm only going to give it three rings before I hang up. He answers on the second ring. "Hello?" his deep voice says.
There's a lump in my throat and I can barely speak. "It's me, Sir. Dan."
He pauses for a second. Then says, "Sunday, 9 o'clock."
I manage to say, "Yes, Sir," before the line goes dead. I feel dizzy. Can't believe that I just made an appointment for my fifth session.
This all started a little over a month ago. One night I was lonely, feeling sorry for myself and half loaded on rum and coke. Well, okay, fully loaded. I logged onto AOL and found the m4m chat room in our city. My online profile isn't very revealing. Just says that I'm 28, work in sales, like to go to the gym, scuba dive, hike and read. I haven't done any of that stuff in three years, but I did at one time. Anyway, I got into an online chat with an older guy – his profile said he was 38, a professional. Under hobbies it listed sports and arts stuff and also said "discipline," but I didn't pay any attention to that at the time. Well, maybe some part of me did. He was a good listener, even online. And he had a way of drawing me out. I found myself telling him how crappy I was feeling about the way my life was going. How I had graduated from a good college, dropped out of an even better law school after my first year and got this _s_h_i_t_ty job in sales that I have now. I told him my apartment was a wreck, that I hadn't done laundry in weeks, barely paid my bills, never balanced my checkbook and that I didn't go out much anymore.
The was a long pause online and then he sent me an Instant Message that read "I can change your life in ten weeks." I laughed out loud.
"Are you serious?" I typed back.
"Yes," he responded.
Well, I was loaded and horny and thought that maybe meeting someone who might throw me a quick _f_u_c_k_ could be just what I needed to get me to sleep through the night. I wasn't sleeping much either. Turns out he lived less than half an hour from me in a highbrow section of town. He emailed me directions and his phone number in case I got lost.
I was literally shivering on that balmy summer night as I walked up and knocked on his door. He opened it, smiled and stuck out his hand. I was trembling as I returned the masculine handshake which he used to pull me inside. He was good looking enough and built enough, standing there in jeans, tee shirt and bare feet, that my _c_o_c_k_ went rigid in a heartbeat. "We'll do this in my study," he said and turned to walk up the staircase. I noticed he had a hot, tight ass in those jeans as I followed him up the stairs, my _c_o_c_k_ straight and hard as a telephone pole.
The study was large and lined with bookshelves. There was a big desk and some comfortable overstuffed chairs here and there. The lighting was subtle and kind of dim. A straight-backed chair was in the center of the room. He stood by the chair and said, "drop the shorts and bend over."
"He's not much on foreplay," I thought to myself, "but TLC is not why I'm here." I popped the button and tugged down the zipper of my loose-fitting hiking shorts and they slid slowly down my legs to my sandals. Nervously, I stood there in my white briefs and a ragged old tee shirt from my college. I quickly glanced at the desk to see if there was a condom and a bottle of lube on it, but there wasn't. Obediently, I bent over like he told me to.
He walked slowly around me, pulling my tee shirt up my torso all the way to my armpits as he went. I shivered as I felt his hand caress my ass. His fingers pushed the white cotton of my briefs tight into my crack. I jumped when I felt his thumb prod my boyhole. I was so hard my _c_o_c_k_ was leaking precum. Nervously, to break the silence, I said, "so you're the man who is going to change my life in ten weeks, huh?"
"I will if you stay with it," he said sternly. "And we start right now!" In one smooth motion he sent my briefs fluttering to my knees, exposing my upturned butt. He sat down and grabbed my arm and pulled me over his lap. My raging _c_o_c_k_ and low-hanging balls were between his legs, crammed uncomfortably against the seat of the chair.
"What the _f_u_c_k_?!" I yelled, my head to the floor. He started spanking my bare ass with his open palm. WHACK! CRACK! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! I started bucking, struggling, pushing against the floor with my hands trying to get up. He continued heating my ass with firm hard blows while he moved forward on the chair, my _c_o_c_k_ and balls falling free between his legs as he did so. The blows from his right hand kept landing on my ass while his left arm went around my waist, his fingers curling around my balls.
I hollered for him to stop. His right leg moved, spreading my butt open and he placed it over my kicking legs. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The spanking continued. I was trapped. If I struggled too much my balls would ache from his tight grip. I couldn't move my legs. The hot licks raining down on my butt continued. I called him every name in the book, I tried to struggle, I whimpered in frustration as the spanking blistered my ass.
An anger like I've never known welled up inside me. I finally collapsed on his left thigh as the spanking continued its burning, punishing march up and down my bare butt. My naked rump was spanked by his huge hand for one solid minute. That's a long time when you've never had your ass spanked before.
Finally, the fiery assault on my stinging bottom stopped. We were both having a hard time catching our breath, both beginning to brake a sweat. He held me in position and ran his hand lightly over my burning butt. I shivered and shook as he soothed my ass. I was beginning to calm down and I felt my _c_o_c_k_, which had lost its hardness by the fifth swat, spring back to life. It got so hard so quick that I was dizzy. His finger slowly ran down the center of my crack, gathering sweat from the spanking as it went. Involuntarily, I spread my legs wider apart. When his slick finger circled my pink pucker and pushed slightly inside I screamed and shot a load like I'd never done before.
I swear I had tears in my eyes from the violent orgasm. I was panting and dazed when he rolled me off of his lap onto the floor at his feet. My vision was blurry as I looked up at him as he stood up. "Next, Sunday, boy. Call me by 5 o'clock Thursday to make the appointment."
I shook my head to clear it. Stood up shakily and pulled up my briefs and shorts. "Yeah, right, _f_u_c_k_er," I said. "I'm never coming back." I walked unsteadily down the stairs, down the walk and sat down gingerly in my car.
When I hit the freeway, a flood of emotions overcame me. "I can't believe he did that!," I yelled inside my head. "HE CALLED ME BOY!" I raged. I slammed the dashboard with my fist, then got myself under control enough to get the car home.
I took off my clothes and laid down on my unmade bed. I tried to sleep, but just tossed and turned. I got up and did the dishes that were piled high in the sink and finally went back to bed.
The next day I kept replaying the orgasm in my mind and got hard each time. Then I'd think about the spanking and get mad all over again. Monday and Tuesday night I cleaned my apartment from top to bottom. Even dusted the furniture for God's sake. Vacuumed Wednesday night. It didn't even look like my place anymore.
At night I had dreams about getting my bare ass spanked by that guy. I'd have to jerk off in the middle of the night just to get back to sleep. Every morning I would wake up with a raging hardon. That hadn't happened in a long time either.
I was a mess Thursday. My _d_i_c_k_ got hard off and on all day. But I had made up my mind not to call. I didn't WANT to call. I WASN'T going to call. At five till five, my underarms were sweating. I called up my AOL account and looked up the email with his number and dialed it.
He answered. "Hey," I said. "It's Dan. I wasn't going to call."
"I know," he replied. "Sunday. At nine." He rang off.
"_f_u_c_k_ER!," I thought. "There's no way I'm going."
But on Sunday night I found myself knocking on his door at nine o'clock sharp. He opened the door and just pointed up the stairs. I found my way to the study. He was right behind me and said "strip." I looked at him for a second and he folded his arms across his chest and just raised his eyebrows. I let out a deep breath and kicked off my shoes. Pulled the shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. I took off my jeans. Then turned my back to him and slowly slid my underwear off.
He sat down in the chair and pointed at his lap. Obediently, mesmerized, I stretched myself across his lap. Without saying a word, he started in on my bare bottom. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! I bucked, bounced and squirmed over his lap. My ass began to glow with the now familiar hot sting. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! I groaned and moaned, moved by butt around, but it didn't do any good. His open palm found my blazing bare rump every time.
Suddenly he stopped. His fingers ran down my crack. I spread my legs and arched my ass up high when his index finger began making teasing circles around my hole. My _c_o_c_k_ sprang to life and my balls pulled up tight against my groin. "Corner time, boy," he said, simply, sternly, and pointed to the bookshelves. Dazed and horny I silently obeyed. I got off of his lap, my rigid pole wagged back and forth as I walked naked and spanked and stretched my arms out across the wall of books, offering my just whipped bare butt to his view. He made me stand there for a good five minutes, bare assed and humiliated with my _c_o_c_k_ so hard it hurt.
Finally he asked, "So what are you here for, boy?"
"I don't know, Sir," I replied honestly. I felt like I wanted to cry but didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"I think you do," he said. "You just can't admit it . . . yet," he added ominously. "Get your ass back over here." When I crawled back over his knee, there was a hairbrush on the floor three inches from my nose. "Hand me the brush, boy!"
"Oh, God, NO," I pleaded. He popped by bare butt with a quick, hard, stinging swat. Shakily, I picked up the brush and handed it to him, bending my arm over my back. He started in right away, with quick hard hot stinging swats to my exposed bottom. POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! I'd never felt anything that hot. I was literally screaming for him to stop. Nothing stings as bad on a boy's bare ass as a hairbrush applied by a man who knows how to use it. POP! POP! POP! I couldn't believe that the punishing stings could come that fast and hard against my butt; each one feeling like bee stings in rapid succession. I was kicking my legs and clawing at the floor, making grooves in the plush carpet with my fingers. I kicked and squirmed as the hairbrush set a fire in my bouncing butt. "Please, Sir!" I yelled, "STOP!" Tears stung my eyes and I gritted my teeth, trying to take it. POP! POP! POP! POP! He kept at it until I thought I was going to faint.
Finally he sent me back against the wall for more corner time. I was whimpering a bit as I rubbed my burning ass and held it out on display. "Now, one more time," he said. "Why are you here?"
Suddenly it became crystal clear. And I started to sob out loud. Real, wrenching tears of desperation flowed. "I'm a _f_u_c_k_ up, Sir," I managed to choke out. "There's so much more I could be and I just can't get motivated. I can't make myself do anything."
He called me back over. Broken in spirit, I went to him sniffling and obedient. He taught me the "boy position." On my knees, legs spread wide, head and chest to the floor, rump arched up and open, _c_o_c_k_ balls dangling between my legs, boyhole on display. The position was humiliating. And I was hard as a rock.
I cringed when he picked up the hairbrush again. "Put your hand between you legs and jack that _c_o_c_k_, boy," he ordered. When I did, he started a slow, measured tattoo of stinging hairbrush swats on my spread ass. I felt dizzy again as he kept delivering the slow measured brands of fire to my bare ass. I jacked as hard as I could, sweat breaking out on my body. He continued to beat my bottom with the brush. I clicked into a different place in my head, somewhere I'd never been before. Aware of the stinging in my ass, but distant too. Suddenly my whole body shook and I exploded sticky ropes of liquid streaming hot cum across his carpet.
A few minutes later I returned to normal. He was sitting at his desk, looking at my naked body with the blazing red rump curled up on the floor. "You know what you need to do. It's in you, boy. And we're going to find it."
I stood up and slowly dressed. "Sunday," he said, not looking up from the papers he was working on at his desk. I didn't have the strength in me to say anything, so I just left.
In the car, I thought about how humiliated the "boy position" made me feel and swore I would not go back. I shifted my ass uncomfortably on the car seat, trying to find a spot that didn't sting too bad.
(To be continued)