(For R)His hand moves in light broad circles across the curve of my naked ass. I can feel every hair there feather up on my skin each time his hand passes. At the end of each sweep of his hand, his fingertips softly slide into my ass crack and send shivers up my spine.
I want him so fuckin’ badly I can barely breathe.
Smack! His hand, hard and stinging on one ass cheek.
“Fuck!” I say, wincing.
“What did you say?” he growls.
Oh yeah, he warned me.
“I said, Thank you, sir!” I say through clenched teeth. I’m thrown off balance a little with the pain, naked, bent over his knee, my cock pressed against his inner thigh, my hands on the floor.
Smack! “That one’s for cursing,” he says. That one stings, right on the fleshy lower ass cheek.
Smack! Smack! Smack! My breath comes in sharp and quick through my clenched teeth. The skin of my ass is on fire. ”And that’s for lying,” he growls.
I breathe deep. Wait for the next blow. Anger boils up from my gut, amplifying the stinging in my ass. Anger at – fuck, what am I angry at? Who am I angry with? Why am I feeling all this rage?
I want to stop this pain so bad and I know I could with just one word. Just one simple meaningless safe word.
Suddenly, he’s smacking my ass again, smacksmacksmacksmack, hard and fast and over and over and I’m struggling to keep my hands on the ground and stay bent over his knee and I realize I’m crying out with each blow and the sting and the fire covers every inch of my ass cheeks like he’s trying to get everything a good even shade of red.
I don’t know how much of this I can handle. And the man’s only just got started.
When he stops smacking me, I realize I’m crying. What were shouts of pain have turned to sobs and something is melting inside me, something like grief or like longing. Like sorrow or loneliness.
And suddenly I notice I’m hard.
What the fuck is this? I can’t wrap my mind around what’s happening to me.
“Let it go,” he says softly, his fingertips soft on my burning flesh. I have never felt such exquisite touch. I am completely lost to it. I am crying and moaning at the same time. My back arches and my butt moves out so I can get more contact and I’m groaning like a fuckin’ bitch in heat and my cock is throbbing against his inner thigh.
Damn it! God damn it! This is NOT who I am! I need to remain in control. I’m the guy who’s always in charge. I pound the floor with my fists. Take in my breath, growl out an exhale and steel myself for more. Bring it on, fucker.
“Go stand in the corner, boy,” he says.
Boy! I ain’t no one’s boy!
I stand up, rubbing my ass to make sure it’s still there. Stomp my way to the corner where I stand with my nose pressed into it. He’s chuckling over on the edge of the bed. A smile comes up onto my face as well and I feel like a naughty little kid who’s just gotten away with a tantrum. And it calms me.
My hard-on presses against the wall as I stand here in the claustrophobic corner just trying to breathe. I can hear the guy tinkering around in the hotel room, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher. Putting lotion on his hands. Messing around with his paddles and straps and whips and shoehorns and brushes.
I want to touch myself so badly. Get a little relief from this goddamn tension he’s built up in me.
“Are you jacking off?” he barks.
I laugh. I wasn’t really aware I was doing it.
“No,” I say.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Oh god, god, it stings so bad. I lift one foot off the ground, my whole body wincing at the pain.
“You think I don’t remember every time you lie to me?” he says.
“No, sir,” I say. “I know you remember, sir,” I say. “Thank you, sir!”
Smack! Ow! Shit!
“Thank you, sir,” I say. Smack! Damn!
His hand is on my butt, tickling lightly, barely touching, and again it shoots waves of pleasure all over my ass and cock and up my back and I’m putty in this man’s hands. I’ve always been the strong daddy top, the guy giving it out. This guy is unzipping that place in me and leaving me nothing but a little naked kid, tender, leaning into him.
This guy knows what the fuck he’s doing. I could totally surrender to a guy like this.
“It’s your first time,” he whispers, his breath on my ear, his leather vest pressing against my arm, the cool of his thick wallet chain pressing against my thigh. “So let me remind you. If ever you want it to stop, you just have to say the safe word and we’ll stop.”
Something in me is breaking and I’m so fucking afraid of that. I am so vulnerable here, stark naked with my nose to the corner, while he stands there fully dressed in his jeans and boots and leather vest and his big hard hands.
I want him so bad. I can’t help it. I’ll risk a spanking for it. I reach back with my hand and pet the fur on his exposed belly. He leans into it and grunts. He’s being merciful and that makes me even harder.
“Do you remember the safe word?” he asks.
“Yes, sir” I whisper.
“What is it?” he whispers. I think I feel his lips on my back, but I can’t tell.
“Barbasol, sir,” I say. “The safe word is Barbasol.”
“Good boy,” he says, his hand moves into the crack of my ass and his finger finds my hole.
“Aw,” I groan, feeling his finger enter into me. “Aw, thank you, sir!”
His fingers are so thick and I’m broken open under this man’s will. He uses his finger to press against the muscles of my asshole and I want so badly to feel him inside me. I could cry I want it so damn badly.
Instead, he withdraws his finger and it feels like he’s taking my soul out with it. It feels like love leaving my body. I want seriously to break down.
“Get on all fours on the bed,” he barks.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
I’m padding eagerly to the bed where I see he’s laid out large pillows for my torso and a small pillow for my screams. I shiver and crawl up onto the high hotel bed. I am on my knees, leaning my ass back toward him, my hands and forearms are flat on the bed, like praying to Mecca .
I am a supplicant. I am begging for… what? What the fuck am I begging for? Love? Forgiveness? For the wickedness in my dark soul to be beaten out of me?
Smack! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! He’s using some kind of leather whip, thin and light, but deadly on my already stinging butt.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Fuck!” I scream at the pain and already I’m crying again.
“What did I say about cursing, boy?” he says, and reminds me by landing another two blows on my butt. God, god, god.
“Thank you, sir!” I bark. “Thank you, sir!”
He smacks my butt with the leather quirt again and again and again until I collapse onto the pillows with pain and howling and writhing and all I can think is Barbasol, Barbasol, Barbasol, but the words never leave my lips because I can feel it in me. I can feel the need to release all this. The need to let completely go of it.
The need to be mastered.
He tickles my butt with his fingertips. Immediately, my cries cease and I’m arching up into him.
I am gone. I am his.
“You are turning a nice shade of red, boy,” he said. “Very good.”
He switches to a hardwood paddle. Smack! Smack! Smack!
I have never felt such pain. All I’ve been through in my life. The gun barrel in my mouth. My father’s glare of disappointment. My brother’s rage. The aching burn of loneliness in the gut. All are nothing, nothing compared to the stinging pain as the hardwood paddle comes down, smacksmacksmacksmack, onto my ass. I’m weeping outright. Sobbing from someplace deeper than I ever imagined I could go.
The paddling stops. The room is so quiet. I can hear him breathing hard. I try to catch my breath. The skin on my ass is throbbing almost as much as my cock.
“Thank you, sir!” I say.
I feel him sit on the bed beside me, facing my feet. His torso moves across my lower back with one arm on the other side of my body. He’s facing my butt and I can feel his hand arching high up above it, ready to rain down the pain.
“Are you ready to submit, boy?” he says.
I squirm, trying to be brave. I am a strong bear daddy man reduced to quivering rubble. I have nothing to hold onto. I release it all.
I deserve all of it. I need all of it.
“Yes, sir!” I holler. “I am ready, sir!”
And he rains them down on me. Blow after blow after blow. And I yield to him. And I’m yielding to myself. And every blow is a blessing and every sting is salvation and I am so hard and hurting and I am nothing, nothing, nothing.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Beyond what I think I can endure and the word, the safe word is right at the edge of my tongue. And my heart is open and tender as a bird.
And the spanking stops.
I’m sucking in air. My face is covered in snot and tears. I feel him blowing his breath lightly on my butt. I nearly leap out of my skin. It’s as excruciating as cumming.
“I want to hear you say it,” he says. He lightly strokes my ass. I can’t believe how fuckin’ sensitive I am there. It takes barely anything there to get me so fucked up horny.
“Sir?” I say.
“I want you to say it,” he says. There is a tremble in his voice. He needs it as bad as I.
I take a deep breath. “I am your boy, sir.”
Smack!
“I am your boy, sir!”
Smack!
“Aw, god,” I writhe. “I am your boy, sir!”
I feel him leave me. He moves up onto the bed, laying down flat on his back. I look up and his arms are open wide. His shining eyes.
“Come here, boy,” he says.
And I go into his arms. And his kiss is like Christ and his body is like every desire I’ve ever known and I am completely, utterly, irrevocably… safe.
Barbasol. Barbasol. Barbasol.
I want him so fuckin’ badly I can barely breathe.
Smack! His hand, hard and stinging on one ass cheek.
“Fuck!” I say, wincing.
“What did you say?” he growls.
Oh yeah, he warned me.
“I said, Thank you, sir!” I say through clenched teeth. I’m thrown off balance a little with the pain, naked, bent over his knee, my cock pressed against his inner thigh, my hands on the floor.
Smack! “That one’s for cursing,” he says. That one stings, right on the fleshy lower ass cheek.
Smack! Smack! Smack! My breath comes in sharp and quick through my clenched teeth. The skin of my ass is on fire. ”And that’s for lying,” he growls.
I breathe deep. Wait for the next blow. Anger boils up from my gut, amplifying the stinging in my ass. Anger at – fuck, what am I angry at? Who am I angry with? Why am I feeling all this rage?
I want to stop this pain so bad and I know I could with just one word. Just one simple meaningless safe word.
Suddenly, he’s smacking my ass again, smacksmacksmacksmack, hard and fast and over and over and I’m struggling to keep my hands on the ground and stay bent over his knee and I realize I’m crying out with each blow and the sting and the fire covers every inch of my ass cheeks like he’s trying to get everything a good even shade of red.
I don’t know how much of this I can handle. And the man’s only just got started.
When he stops smacking me, I realize I’m crying. What were shouts of pain have turned to sobs and something is melting inside me, something like grief or like longing. Like sorrow or loneliness.
And suddenly I notice I’m hard.
What the fuck is this? I can’t wrap my mind around what’s happening to me.
“Let it go,” he says softly, his fingertips soft on my burning flesh. I have never felt such exquisite touch. I am completely lost to it. I am crying and moaning at the same time. My back arches and my butt moves out so I can get more contact and I’m groaning like a fuckin’ bitch in heat and my cock is throbbing against his inner thigh.
Damn it! God damn it! This is NOT who I am! I need to remain in control. I’m the guy who’s always in charge. I pound the floor with my fists. Take in my breath, growl out an exhale and steel myself for more. Bring it on, fucker.
“Go stand in the corner, boy,” he says.
Boy! I ain’t no one’s boy!
I stand up, rubbing my ass to make sure it’s still there. Stomp my way to the corner where I stand with my nose pressed into it. He’s chuckling over on the edge of the bed. A smile comes up onto my face as well and I feel like a naughty little kid who’s just gotten away with a tantrum. And it calms me.
My hard-on presses against the wall as I stand here in the claustrophobic corner just trying to breathe. I can hear the guy tinkering around in the hotel room, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher. Putting lotion on his hands. Messing around with his paddles and straps and whips and shoehorns and brushes.
I want to touch myself so badly. Get a little relief from this goddamn tension he’s built up in me.
“Are you jacking off?” he barks.
I laugh. I wasn’t really aware I was doing it.
“No,” I say.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Oh god, god, it stings so bad. I lift one foot off the ground, my whole body wincing at the pain.
“You think I don’t remember every time you lie to me?” he says.
“No, sir,” I say. “I know you remember, sir,” I say. “Thank you, sir!”
Smack! Ow! Shit!
“Thank you, sir,” I say. Smack! Damn!
His hand is on my butt, tickling lightly, barely touching, and again it shoots waves of pleasure all over my ass and cock and up my back and I’m putty in this man’s hands. I’ve always been the strong daddy top, the guy giving it out. This guy is unzipping that place in me and leaving me nothing but a little naked kid, tender, leaning into him.
This guy knows what the fuck he’s doing. I could totally surrender to a guy like this.
“It’s your first time,” he whispers, his breath on my ear, his leather vest pressing against my arm, the cool of his thick wallet chain pressing against my thigh. “So let me remind you. If ever you want it to stop, you just have to say the safe word and we’ll stop.”
Something in me is breaking and I’m so fucking afraid of that. I am so vulnerable here, stark naked with my nose to the corner, while he stands there fully dressed in his jeans and boots and leather vest and his big hard hands.
I want him so bad. I can’t help it. I’ll risk a spanking for it. I reach back with my hand and pet the fur on his exposed belly. He leans into it and grunts. He’s being merciful and that makes me even harder.
“Do you remember the safe word?” he asks.
“Yes, sir” I whisper.
“What is it?” he whispers. I think I feel his lips on my back, but I can’t tell.
“Barbasol, sir,” I say. “The safe word is Barbasol.”
“Good boy,” he says, his hand moves into the crack of my ass and his finger finds my hole.
“Aw,” I groan, feeling his finger enter into me. “Aw, thank you, sir!”
His fingers are so thick and I’m broken open under this man’s will. He uses his finger to press against the muscles of my asshole and I want so badly to feel him inside me. I could cry I want it so damn badly.
Instead, he withdraws his finger and it feels like he’s taking my soul out with it. It feels like love leaving my body. I want seriously to break down.
“Get on all fours on the bed,” he barks.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
I’m padding eagerly to the bed where I see he’s laid out large pillows for my torso and a small pillow for my screams. I shiver and crawl up onto the high hotel bed. I am on my knees, leaning my ass back toward him, my hands and forearms are flat on the bed, like praying to Mecca .
I am a supplicant. I am begging for… what? What the fuck am I begging for? Love? Forgiveness? For the wickedness in my dark soul to be beaten out of me?
Smack! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! He’s using some kind of leather whip, thin and light, but deadly on my already stinging butt.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Fuck!” I scream at the pain and already I’m crying again.
“What did I say about cursing, boy?” he says, and reminds me by landing another two blows on my butt. God, god, god.
“Thank you, sir!” I bark. “Thank you, sir!”
He smacks my butt with the leather quirt again and again and again until I collapse onto the pillows with pain and howling and writhing and all I can think is Barbasol, Barbasol, Barbasol, but the words never leave my lips because I can feel it in me. I can feel the need to release all this. The need to let completely go of it.
The need to be mastered.
He tickles my butt with his fingertips. Immediately, my cries cease and I’m arching up into him.
I am gone. I am his.
“You are turning a nice shade of red, boy,” he said. “Very good.”
He switches to a hardwood paddle. Smack! Smack! Smack!
I have never felt such pain. All I’ve been through in my life. The gun barrel in my mouth. My father’s glare of disappointment. My brother’s rage. The aching burn of loneliness in the gut. All are nothing, nothing compared to the stinging pain as the hardwood paddle comes down, smacksmacksmacksmack, onto my ass. I’m weeping outright. Sobbing from someplace deeper than I ever imagined I could go.
The paddling stops. The room is so quiet. I can hear him breathing hard. I try to catch my breath. The skin on my ass is throbbing almost as much as my cock.
“Thank you, sir!” I say.
I feel him sit on the bed beside me, facing my feet. His torso moves across my lower back with one arm on the other side of my body. He’s facing my butt and I can feel his hand arching high up above it, ready to rain down the pain.
“Are you ready to submit, boy?” he says.
I squirm, trying to be brave. I am a strong bear daddy man reduced to quivering rubble. I have nothing to hold onto. I release it all.
I deserve all of it. I need all of it.
“Yes, sir!” I holler. “I am ready, sir!”
And he rains them down on me. Blow after blow after blow. And I yield to him. And I’m yielding to myself. And every blow is a blessing and every sting is salvation and I am so hard and hurting and I am nothing, nothing, nothing.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Beyond what I think I can endure and the word, the safe word is right at the edge of my tongue. And my heart is open and tender as a bird.
And the spanking stops.
I’m sucking in air. My face is covered in snot and tears. I feel him blowing his breath lightly on my butt. I nearly leap out of my skin. It’s as excruciating as cumming.
“I want to hear you say it,” he says. He lightly strokes my ass. I can’t believe how fuckin’ sensitive I am there. It takes barely anything there to get me so fucked up horny.
“Sir?” I say.
“I want you to say it,” he says. There is a tremble in his voice. He needs it as bad as I.
I take a deep breath. “I am your boy, sir.”
Smack!
“I am your boy, sir!”
Smack!
“Aw, god,” I writhe. “I am your boy, sir!”
I feel him leave me. He moves up onto the bed, laying down flat on his back. I look up and his arms are open wide. His shining eyes.
“Come here, boy,” he says.
And I go into his arms. And his kiss is like Christ and his body is like every desire I’ve ever known and I am completely, utterly, irrevocably… safe.
Barbasol. Barbasol. Barbasol.
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