"Come over here", he calmly intoned, and I noticed that he was sitting in the middle of the couch just inside the livingroom which parallels the door to his eloquent home. Next to him laid a paddle of sorts, something that I was not accustomed to seeing in my life of 33 years thus yet. It was short, oblonged, and sort of resembled a ping pong paddle only thicker in girth and covered with what I still assume is thin black leather.
He was angry, angrier than I'd ever seen him in our brief history together, and I realized that he had reason to be. One does not take the news that his boyfriend of only 3 weeks just smacked up his mint conditioned 17 year old yup Volvo. He wasn't even aware when I telephoned him of the accident that I had taken the car. I hadn't mentioned it in my note by the coffemaker that morning as he slept. Oh well, whatever, I rationalized that it wasn't like he needed it anyway that day. He's loaded, freelance photographer snapping exotic places I never even knew existed for some years and had invested his money well. And after the wreck all I kept thinking was that I never really did get the hang of stick shifts. Guess I should've thought of that before I took his car.
Before I could even register what exactly he intended to do he started berrating me about my irresonsibility in life, my inconsideration for others, and my many other 'Gen-X' faults and shortcomings including a mouth with a forked tongue of sorts, etc., etc. I wonder if there will ever come the day when Babyboomers will realize that the children they had during their peace movement and Volkswagens, and raised while chasing down second degrees, masters and doctorates in their Hondas and Datsuns will ever realize that we will never be like them. I doubt it, that is a downfall of their generational thinking.
"_f_u_c_k_ Off!" I yelled back at him as I continued onward towards his kitchen thinking that he would realize that I had a splitting headache already from the days events and was focused then only on two things. One being a nice cold Heineken out of the fridge, even though my blue collar heritage was foreign to the more bitter and finer qualities of beverages. And the second being a nice lounge poolside out back. My days of public swimming pools were done, I had finally managed to employ my boyhood looks and slim size to a greater quality of life. Besides, I always bottomed enjoyably well and decided to charm a wealthier top than those provided to me in the seedy city gay bars. So then really my thinking was skewed that I was somehow deseving of this man and his things without reason. Although at the same time I was deeply attracted to this man and his paternal nature toward me. Unlike other men who seem to govern their existences primarily on the activities of their dicks, he was different. He wanted and expected more and I was mesmerized by him.
"Hang up the _f_u_c_k_ing keys and get over here!", he snarled as I noticed only little more than his siloette in the afternoon sun shaded window. His form is that of 100% man, built well, maintained meticulously by his addiction to his Soloflex and related pain causing machinery of sorts that he works out on almost daily as his routine. He is a disciplined man. Everything has to be just so and life itself follows a carefully plotted schedule that undoubtedly bases his general persona. Perhaps this is why we hit it off so well for as the saying goes, 'Opposites attract' and he didn't mind that my offering to the world was more or less based only on what nature gave me. I do nothing to enhance it and actually my corrosively woven habits of marlboros, beer, caffeine, etc. have shown signs of damage.
I returned to the archway of the livingroom with my beer and stared at him coldly, my way of saying that I'm really not up to an argument. "Come to me," he said with his voice even and assuring that he was going to get his way. "You deserve this Scott and you must learn to accept your punishment when it is merited."
As it hit me then what exactly he intended, "Go to hell", I answered and took a draw off my Heineken, averting my eye contact with him.
Tenaciously patient and calm without movement he said, "I've done a lot for you Scott. And I've put up with a lot from you. Definitely you have gotten a lot from knowing me, and look at you standing there still drinking from my kindness. Now it is time that you hold up some of the bargain here. You say that you are mine? Prove it.....come over here." I still stood frozen in the arch and resumed my stare.
He matched my stare with a slight patronizing grin. A grin that said, 'he'll see reason and give in to me'. "You will appreciate this Scott, you've needed it for some time. Trust that I will never meat out anything that you can't endure. You need disciplined."
Still I didn't move and remained standing there sipping the Heineken making no indication of compliance to this man and his order. "You are going to receive a sound spanking for what you did today...that is all." He picked up the paddle and continued, "I'm going to use this paddle and yes, it'll hurt. Probably you'll try to maintain your stoic..._c_o_c_k_y composure...we'll see. And when I feel that you truly are remorseful....for taking my car without asking...for wrecking it into a _f_u_c_k_ing Fed Ex truck...." and he cast his eyes downward from me then with the look not only of anger but of dire disappointment.
"Christ, it was an accident...besides it's not like it's totalled!" I stammered thinking perhaps I could assuage his feelings at that moment towards me.
He returned his stare of ice cold blue intensity that he had at me. "You have a choice Scott. You can leave my premises immediately...take the beer with you. Or...you can come over here and take this like the man I know you are somewhere inside there. Your choice and you have exactly thirty seconds to decide." He said instantly timing me on his watch.
"_f_u_c_k_!" and reluctantly I crossed the room to him, setting down my Heineken on the glass topped coffee table. When I neared him, he moved slightly forward on the couch almost in anticipation of having to grab me should I have decided to pass by him. Once in front of him with my arms folded in defiance, my face reading discust he did grab me by the hips firmly but gently, "You will cry Scott" is all he said. I couldn't even look at him I was so pissed off by the absurdity I felt of the situation and instead looked sideways down the room farther toward the fireplace.
Never letting go of my slender hips, "Remove your sweater young man" he vociferated methodically. Immediately I complied knowing that I had already lost this battle and was going to have to succumb to this man so I might as well get it over with in hopes of maybe still being able to catch a few late afternoon rays out back. Once removed and cast aside he undid my belt and pulled it from my levis. Holding it up doubled he waved it at me saying, "Not today Scott but soon...very soon if you continue on the path you're headed with me." Shrill tremor instantly enveloped me as he fiercely tore open my button fly and yanged the jeans downward towards the floor, srunched and twisted about my ankles and lower calves. Quickly I was then yanked across this man's lap like a prepubecent boy across his father's knees. And yet I was 33 to his junior by only slightly more than a decade to his 44 years.
"Relax", he said as he rubbed and kneaded the white cotton covering my ass and I was for a moment, thankful of being spared at least some dignity by Fruit of the Loom. Then his fingers were inside of the waist band pulling and with them any shred of self composure I had left met my jeans at about mid calf. Naked, prostrate, I lay across this man's lap, deftly uncomfortable as my dick was jammed in the wrinkled fabric of his own cotton pants. He tenderly reached under me obviously trying to adjust my discomfort and I put my right hand down on the carpet to lift and give him easier access.
Once more or less placed exactly where he wanted me and assuring my eased comfort he caressed my ass, softly stroking with his finger up and down my cleft as he spoke. "You were a bad boy today Scott. And bad boys get spanked in this house...Why do you make me do this Scott?"
"I dunno", I answered trying to then get up thinking that maybe he had just been trying to panic me. His broad firm hand pushing downward though told me instead that this was no scare tactic. He was serious. "Don't fight me Scott, you will regret it", he warned and waited until I positioned myself exactly back to where I had been.
Then without warning of sight or sound suddenly WHACK! I felt searing pain flood my ass. It was like nothing I had ever felt before and instantly my arm flew up from the floor to try to grab the pain in my ass. Instantly it was met by his firm hand grabbing my own and pinning it in the small of my back.
"When you are destructive..." WHACK! came down that paddle, "When you are disobedient..." WHACK! again it came, "I will spank you to teach you to behave." WHACK! over and over the assault continued as I was merciless to do anything to stop it. Each blow seemed worse than the prior, I was on fire!
Muffled groans escaped through clenched lips from my face buried deeper and deeper in the fine damask upholstery of the couch. Then, at first silently, tears burned my eyes and I found myself fighting like mad to stop them from expanding past my eyelids. It was without use as he continued what felt like sheer rein of terror on my flesh.
When finally and abruptly he finished he flipped me quickly and decisively over face up on his lap, putting his hand midway up my back and lifting me upward toward his chest. He didn't hug me however. The tears streaming down my face were yet my own problem and my ass burned even more as it rested on his lap.
He poked my chest pointing his words. "From now on Scott, you will receive spankings. They will be at my pleasing and at my mercy. You will not know when they're coming, however get accustomed to them in your life here. I will discipline you at my discretion and you will accept it gracefully. I won't be excessive however I won't be nearly as lenient as I was this afternoon. I will use paddles, whips, canes....your own _d_a_m_n_ed belt from your pants if it pleases me to do so." And we sat, me more or less sprawled in his lap, coldy staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity.
"And dare you have the balls to resist me young man!" and with that he hit me in the balls with a half fisted hand. Not slapped, not punched hard, hit; hard enough to instantly curl me in a ball on his lap grabbing myself, blowing short breaths, trying to ease the shooting pain. "Now get off me and go stand against the wall!" He barked pointing at the solid wall separating the living and dining rooms.
Quickly I scrambled off his lap, not wanting to endure anymore pain and found a peaceful place against the blank wall. I needed a peaceful place. Remorsefulness overcame me as I stood there thinking about the events of the day. Honestly, I think for the first time that I really felt bad for what I had done to another person. And I felt deserving...actually lucky that this man cared enough to do what he did. Standing there I could also feel his eyes cutting into my back and my sore butt never uttering a word. Just staring at me.
It really sucked. It felt worse than the humilation of being spanked naked by this man. It felt worse than the searing pain of the short hand paddle he weilded so excellently. It felt worse than his finger being poked in my chest. It didn't feel quite as bad as being hit in the balls, but yeah, it sucked. And about ten minutes into it I decided to try to end the torment.
"I'm sorry John", I turned and quietly said.
"You know Scott...that's all you needed to say and this may have not had to happen." He said as he came over to me and took me into his arms. "Then again though, really I should've spanked you a long time ago for the ways you act around here and believe me for here on in I will." And there was a deep internal feeling of relief and love within me.
And I was then poolside, with my marlboros and Heineken. The whole episode didn't last but maybe a half hour. And I was sprawled on my lounge...face down, which was a new position and one that I'd get accustomed to last Summer with my new life with John.
My transgressions since these past months have certainly earned me a sore ass time and again and are subject for more entries to MMSA Stories. I've learned a lot though and it is with John's insistence that I write what I now know well.