Everything was packed. We were going on a trip, a vacation, to Las Vegas as part of my reward for finishing the academic year with good grades. I hadn’t been in trouble for some time, my butt had healed. He was in the shower while I sat on the closed toilet seat lid dressed and ready, tapping my fingers on my knee.
“Settle down young man or it’s going to be a very uncomfortable ride,” he said.
But I couldn’t let it go. I wanted to get out of his town. I wanted to be somewhere I had never been before and I wanted him to quit dragging his feet about it.
“I’ll flush the toilet,” I said.
“Don’t you dare,” he replied.
“You’re taking too long,” I said.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get in after dark, it’s the best time to see the city anyway, and then we’ll go out to eat and get back to our room for some fun.”
It all sounded too good. Anything he was doing here he could do there, I thought. I liked him just the way he was but I knew he still wanted to shave. I decided to give him a jump start. I went to the sink where he keeps a glass he uses for water to wash out his mouth. I filled it with cold water from the tap, went to the shower door, stretched over the top and dropped the cold water down his back. He let out a yell of discomfort and turned off the shower.
I stepped back as he opened the shower door. I had expected him to be a little annoyed but I could tell he was mad. He signaled with his finger for me to come closer and for a moment I thought about running. I thought about him chasing after me and his dick bouncing as he ran. It would have been a great thing to see but not if he caught me, not if I was the one being chased. I gave in to his finger and moved closer.
He took hold of my ear until I whined in pain. He turned me slightly and jerked down my pants and underwear, swatted me twice. I thought for a moment it was over.
“I’ve had enough. Sit down there.” He pointed to the closed toilet lid. “When I get out you’re going over my knee.”
“Aw, come on,” I said.
“You’ve been pushing me for some time and not just today. I know what you want.”
It was true. I had been. And maybe I wanted, needed, a spanking but then I thought about the trip, our vacation, and if I didn’t fall in line we’d be even more late. Would he blame me? Would he call the whole thing off?
“But we should get on the road,” I said.
“That can wait. Sit.”
I went to the toilet and sat on the lid. I looked to him as he stepped out of the shower and picked up the towel. He dried himself carefully, wrapped the towel around his waist and moved to the sink where he cleaned off a spot of condensation. I watched as he carefully shaved himself.
Each second felt longer than the last, each movement felt like it was leading to my punishment. He finished shaving, cleaned off his face, dried it, and applied aftershave. I could barely get a proper mustache. He looked to me and motioned with his head for me to follow. I got to my feet and walked behind him into his bedroom where I saw our suitcases were still open on the bed.
“Did you pack any paddles?” he asked.
“No sir,” I said.
“Get me that one you hate. We may just have to take it with us for the weekend to keep you in line.”
My stomach tightened and my toes curled. There was one that I hated more than the rest because it was small with holes and he could wield it with precision and force.
“Aw, please,” I said.
“Lose the attitude young man,” he said.
My jaw fell to my clavicle and I turned away, shuffled to the dresser. I heard him open a drawer and getting out clothes. He was going to spank me, then we were going to drive to Vegas and take the paddle with us.
“Hurry it up,” he said.
I looked over the paddles in the drawer. For just a moment I thought about picking out the wrong one and trying to be cute, maybe it was possible to get him back on my side and relent. He pushed a drawer shut and I heard him begin to whistle. I picked up the paddle I hated and carried it back to him.
He was half dressed in a pair of white boxers and an undershirt. He moved to the bed and pushed one of the suitcases to the other end so he could sit. I moved to him and bit my lip. He sat. I handed him the paddle. He undid my pants and pulled them down. We were going straight to the pain, not even a warm up. He pulled me down to his lap, my underwear down around my ass to expose the flesh. My cheeks parted a little, felt as if they hadn’t ever felt, more exposed, more vulnerable because though I had been there before, this time I had encouraged it. This time I had brought this on myself.
He swatted me slowly. At least he was giving me that. I grunted with the first few but then it got harder to keep in the pain. I gripped at his leg, grabbed hold of his shin. The paddle felt as if it were digging into me each time, a little further and further until it was in my brain, behind my eyes and I began to scream and wail, snot ran from my nose and I cried. I was powerless but I could make sure it didn’t happen again if I behaved.
He stopped and laid his hand on my butt. He was still damp from the shower. He pulled me to his lap and I leaned against his shoulder. I kissed him on the cheek and nuzzled against his neck. He smelled of aftershave and soap. We sat there until I had regained my composure and then he set me on my feet and pulled up my underwear, then my pants, buckled them tight, tighter than I usually wear them. I didn’t know if it was another punishment or he just didn’t know how I usually wore it. He gave me the paddle and told me to pack it in my case. I thought about leaving it behind, all the ways I could make it disappear, but I didn’t. I packed it.
Fifteen minutes later we had everything in the car and I was in the passenger seat. It felt good on my butt. I felt a little energy still in me so I connected my MP3 player and started a science podcast but my energy waned easily and I soon fell asleep. He woke me once when he pulled into a gas station for snacks. He asked me if I wanted anything and I requested that he pick something out. My ass hurt so I decided to get out and do some walking. I looked around at the desert landscape. The gas station looked more like a barn but if a corporation had made it, something that wasn’t supposed to be there.
I stretched my legs and looked around at the other people. I spotted two women walking from two vans parked next to each other. They led a group of children towards the store. Mormons, I thought. I wondered if they were married to the same man or just two mothers who were friends.
“Are you ready to go?” Mr. Grant asked breaking me from my reverie.
I turned to him and he held up plastic bags full of snacks for the road so I got back inside, careful not to sit just on my butt. He handed me the bags and I looked inside to find my favorites. It was a mild reprieve from my punishment.
“The desert reminds me of those apocalypse movies,” I said.
“It’s kind of interesting isn’t it?”
“I’ve never been on the ocean in a boat but it makes me think about how big we feel until we see ourselves, you know. It’s kind of like seeing a picture of the earth. It’s easy to think about being able to fly over all of this but when you’re just one person alone walking through it then it’s vast and uncompromising.”
He reached over and took my hand but he didn’t speak. I was at a loss for words so I shifted a little, reclined the back of my seat. He let go of my hand and rested his on my knee as he continued to drive I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.
Hours later he woke me again because we were in Las Vegas and driving down the strip. I looked up at the lights. It was a random assortment of themes and buildings reminiscent of photographs and movies. I had almost forgotten about my sore butt until near the end as the lights fell behind us. We drove through darkness, closed store fronts, and parked cars until there were more lights ahead. We went right through the middle of Old Town Las Vegas. I could see the neon cowboy and other older looking signs.
“That was the five cent tour,” he said. “Want to get to our hotel?”
“Yeah,” I said enthusiastically.
He drove us out of old town and back towards The Strip, but we made a detour off to another hotel. We pulled up front and there was a valet there. Mr. Grant opened the trunk and we took hold of our luggage. We weren’t the the types to wait for someone else to do it. We dragged everything inside to the front desk. He was focused on the task at hand but I looked around at the gambling areas. Most of the people were at the tables gambling and very few were at the slot machines. I was tempted to run over to one and play but stopped myself.
After Mr. Grant checked us in a bell hop came around with a cart for our bags. It felt nice to hand them over and walk unencumbered to the elevator. Mr. Grant and I stood close to each other. The bell hop eyed us but didn’t say anything. I wanted to kiss Mr. Grant right there but didn’t. We went up to the fifteenth floor and the bellhop led us down to our room. Mr. Grant unlocked it and we entered. The bellhop followed, set our bags just inside our room. I went to the window that was open. We had an accidental view of the Strip. It was a beautiful sight. I heard Mr. Grant tip the man, then usher him out and close the door.
I waited for him as I heard him cross the room. He stopped behind me and pulled me into his arms. He kissed me on my neck. He pulled my shirt out, then up my chest. He tickled my chest with his fingers before he pulled off my shirt completely and dropped it to the ground. He went back to my neck with his lips as he unbuckled my belt, undid my pants, and let them fall down to my ankles. He pulled at the sides of my underwear and for a moment I thought he was going to rip them off until he pushed the backside down around my ass. He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed me there as his hands went up to my nipples. He slowly worked them until they were as hard as they could get, then he began to pull on them a little making me moan in pleasure and pain. I wanted him. I took hold of his arms around me and pulled him to the desk area in front of the window where I leaned down onto its empty surface.
He pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles, pressed his hard cock against my ass. I felt it there between my red cheeks. It was a little slick but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
“Fuck I forget where I packed the lube,” he said.
“Just use spit,” I said.
“I can’t. It’ll hurt.”
I turned on him, sunk down to my knees. His dick almost poked me in the eye before I maneuvered it between my lips. I nipped at the head and felt pre-cum. I worked some spit around in my mouth before I opened and stuck the head inside to just to work it a little, but I knew the best way to get it lubricated was drool from gagging so I got more aggressive. I forced myself down onto him, letting his dick trigger my gag reflex until more spit formed in my mouth. I worked him like this for a while until I could run my hand up and down the shaft easily, then I spit into my own hand and began to rub it down between my legs into my asshole. I felt my sphincter give a little.
I got back up to my feet, turned, and pulled him into me. He worked his dick down to my hole where he pushed inside. There was grunting and moaning from both of us until he could work his dick easily. Every emotion was released from me as we fucked. I didn’t think about anything else but us in that room. There was no past, no future. He kissed at the back of my ear and vibrations ran through my body. He grabbed at my chest, his fingers on my hard nipples. I closed my eyes and turned back to him for a kiss. Our lips touched, our tongues touched, and I had him every way I could have ever wanted.
He pushed me to the bed, where I got on my knees face down with my cheek pressed into the bed sheet. The bed shifted as he got up behind me, took hold of me as he quickened his pace, battered away at me, his dick swollen inside of my hole. A tickle from my prostate and I thought for a moment I would piss myself. I writhed on the bed until I felt the need to turn over. I wanted to see his face, look in his eyes, so I turned on his dick. He put my ankles over his shoulders and worked himself back into a rhythm, hitting my prostate each time in the new position. His face was a deep red. He worked me over the edge until I ejaculated all over myself, over my head, down over my face, until it dribbled out into my pubic hair. He had an orgasm soon after, his ejaculate flooded inside of me. He collapsed onto me, kissed at my lips, my neck, until he had no more energy. His warm chest against mine, my fluid between us.
We let out nervous laughter, pleased sighs, before we worked ourselves apart. He got to his feet and pulled me up, turned me and walked me to the bathroom where he we got into the shower. His ejaculate began to run out of me and down my leg so I wiped it up. We cleaned ourselves and each other until it felt like we had new bodies. It would have been too easy to stay in after that, with barely talking about it we got dressed and headed down to the hotel restaurant.
It felt like we had spent days together and our vacation was already over, that is until I saw the hardwood chair. I remembered my spanking, my red ass. There was no pride in asking for something soft like a pillow. He saw me squirm and we both chuckled, our own private joke. We giggled through the meal and all of the way back to our room. I stripped out of my clothes, he did the same. We hung them up in the closet and I went to the bed where I lay face down. He lay next to me.
That night he marveled at my reddened butt and played with it for a long time, maybe my spanking was a good way to start a vacation after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment