Shane, a directionless 20 year old living with his parents and
attending community college, is sitting on his porch one lazy day when
he spots Grant a new next door neighbor. Grant is handsome, older, and
successful. Shane is attracted to the older man, wants to start a
relationship but Grant has just gotten out of a long-term relationship
with a man and isn’t ready for commitment.
Worse, he sees Shane as too young, too impulsive, and misbehaved, but
when Shane won’t give up Grant challenges him to a little discipline.
That
night after the spanking session as I lay on his bed with my head in
his lap, my hand on his leg playing with a pinch of denim from his jeans
I felt as if the sin had been beaten from me. My skin burned in an
unfamiliar way yet it felt rewarding somehow, as if I felt a pain in me I
could have not felt any other way, some kind of new sensation not to be
experienced by anyone else. Each cheek throbbed with the beat of my
heart.
I felt like I had learned some lesson and yet I
knew there could be more sessions. Mr. Grant’s thigh was a comfort in
that moment. His body and mine were fused. We were fused. We had both
taken part in some kind of ceremony of pain. I told myself I was an
adult, that I could walk out right then and never come back yet I felt
the beginning of an obligation.
When he moved a little I
clutched the fabric of his pants but he calmly ran his fingers through
my hair and told me he was going to get something for the pain. He
pulled away and I felt like something was missing from myself. I
listened to him go into the bathroom where he took something out of the
cabinet. His feet made a distinct sound on the carpet. Every sense of
mine was heightened. My nipples were hard against the bed, even my cock
began to swell.
I heard him opening a jar of cream.
He put one knee on the bed and I felt it shift as he leaned over to my
ass where he touched it gently. The cream was cool and smelled of aloe,
his touch was precise. One cheek then the other and immediately the
sensation there felt different. He worked it into my thighs. I wanted
him to do more. I wanted him to slip a finger up into me. I wanted to
feel that cream everywhere but then he stopped. His weight on the bed
retreated and he closed the jar. I listened to him go back to the
bathroom where he put it away. I was ready to close my eyes and fall
asleep even without him when he spoke to me.
“I’m going
to let you stay like that for a while while I put your clothes away for
the night and get you something else to wear to bed. Don’t go anywhere
I don’t want you to get cream on the bed cover or anywhere else.”
“Yes sir,” I said.
The
response came out naturally. It felt appropriate. My cynicism about
calling him sir was gone. I listened to him pick up my clothes, fold
them, and then put them away in a dresser drawer. I listened to him
retrieve a bag from the hallway closet and carry it into the bedroom.
Had be bought me something? Was it pajamas? Had he planned on me
staying the night? I certainly didn’t want to go home in my condition.
He carried the bag to the head of the bed and set it
down for me to see. He asked me my waist size and I told him. He asked
me my shirt size and I told him. Then, he reached into the bag,
retrieved two items and set them on the bed. I saw right away that they
were white briefs and white t-shirts still in the bag from the store
shelf. I wanted to reach out to them, pull them open, and see them but I
stopped myself from acting so impulsively.
Instead I
waited for him as he carried the bag to the hallway closet, went to the
kitchen to retrieve something, and come back to the bedroom. He told
me to get up from the bed carefully which I did. He handed me a bottle
of water. Strangely I had not thought about being drinking anything and
yet I was very thirsty. It must be from all the crying, I thought. I
opened the bottle and downed more than half of it to quench my thirst.
When I finished he held out his hand to take the bottle which he set on a
nearby dresser. I looked to the briefs and t-shirts on the bed.
“You need a bath first,” he said.
I
knew what was going to happen and yet I waited for him to move first.
He ushered me into the bathroom where he plugged the tub drain and
started the water. He made sure it was a comfortable temperature before
indicating that I should get in. He helped me as I stepped inside and
lowered myself down. The porcelain was hard against my ass and I
shifted until I found a comfortable spot by holding most of the weight
on my back. I held myself there until the water filled enough to give
me some buoyancy though it barely helped. He got me a wash cloth from
the cabinet and pointed to the bar of soap.
“I’m not
going to wash you, unless you want me to, I’m just here for comfort.
You’ve been through something significant tonight.”
“Thank you sir,” I said.
He
retrieved a mini-stool from his room, set it by the tub. I closed my
eyes and splashed water on my face. Being in the tub, being in the
water, splashing my face, having him there, and even drinking the
bottled water was exactly what I needed. When I opened my eyes I felt
like a different person. I felt the droplets run down my throat, over
my chest, and it felt like I was reconstructing my body one sensation at
a time. I put more water over my face, over my head. I loved the
feeling of it running down my dry back. I looked up to him and was
surprised to him smiling down at me.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re smiling,” he said.
“Am I?”
He
nodded. It was true. I could feel it. I was naked in a tub after
having been spanked by my neighbor who was an older man and I was
smiling. I laughed a little as I looked down over myself. My thighs,
my limp dick, my pubic hair, and my feet were all there, the same ones I
had seen every day of my life. I got an idea. I wet the cloth and
picked up the bar of soap then offered both of them to him.
“Would you wash my back sir?” I asked.
He
took the cloth and the soap, lathered the cloth, and shifted closer as I
moved my back to him. He started with my shoulders. I was reminded of
that day on the beach. I was reminded of hiding my drinking from him.
I wanted to apologize to him but it was a passing thought as he moved
down my spine. It was our own moment as he soaped my entire back. He
stopped at the water line so I moved up, got to my knees, but he
hesitated.
“Would you wash my ass sir? I want to make sure and get all of the lotion,” I said.
His
hand went to my ass and for a moment I regretted asking as I felt the
roughness of the material as he moved it over each cheek but the pain
was mild enough to endure it. I wanted him to do more. I wanted him to
go between my crack. I wanted to feel him and yet he stopped even as I
put my knees to the sides of the tub to open myself, offer myself. He
moved to my thighs instead.
Then he was done and I
knew it was over. I had not been rebuked so much as ignored, maybe
politely delayed. When he finished I sat back down, careful to put the
weight on my back as quickly as I could. I looked back up to him and I
smiled.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8
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