FOURTEEN
Well, like I told you last time, I knew it was inevitable. One of these days, probably soon, Danny would start spanking me. Like I said last time, I know he saw those three houseboys with spank-red asses along with the captions. Neat word, Huh: spank-red? It means their asses were red because they'd been spanked hard enough to make their asses red. But you probably figured that out.
Now don't forget the captions. Eventually Danny told me it was the captions that made him realize that spanking was a necessary part of life someone like me. Spankings are essential for naughty houseboys or houseboys that need to be reminded who's in charge. The minute I read that caption I knew my goose was cooked. (On for those of you who are learning English, "my goose was cooked" is an idiom that means "my ass was spanked," or some other way of saying that you are the loser in whatever was going on.)
Okay, back to spanking. We were having supper one night and the two of us were alone. Danny looks at me and says, "I was wondering if any gay houseboy pictures were especially interesting to you lately." Right away I blush even though I know he knows I saw the damn red asses! But I play it coy. "I find most of them interesting. Just the fact that there really are houseboys around who have to work naked, boys like me, that I'm not alone. I figure that's how you got the idea to want to keep me naked all the time, isn't it, Danny?"
"Gavin," he says, giving me THAT look: "you know exactly what I'm getting at."
"Yes, I guess I do. May I ask what you're thinking about trying?"
"I'd like to try to find out if the quotes about spanking are true. The pictures sure are realistic and now the whole idea of it is arousing my interest."
"Well,, you know I'm always willing to try whatever you want."
I'll tell you what I want for you, baby: for you to calm down more, focus better, become a better cocksucker . . . sure, you do a good job already, Gavin, don't think I'm criticizing you. I have to confess that I'd like to see you 100% focused on any task you're performing for me, whether it be folding my laundry, making the bed, licking my feet. Total focus with no distraction. And, of course, there's the other possibility that you might get even better at sucking my cock. All of this is starting to make a lot of sense to me."
"You know, it could just be some kind of kinky theory. An unproven theory." Damn, I know I just played right into his hands!
"I agree, boy. So I think I'd like to put those theories to a test. Find out what our relationship would be like if I start spanking you. How does that make you feel? Tell me how you're reacting to all this."
What could I say? "Danny, you've been thinking about spanking me for a while now, I now. For some reason, it's making me tremble inside. Just the thought that you have that much power over me, that you can even think you can spank me if you want, . . .
I don't know what to say. It frightens me a little, that you'd want to do that to me, but at the same time, . . .i don't know . . . to be honest with you."
We finish our meal in silence. Then he speaks. "Well then, I've decided it's time to put those theories to the test. So this is what's gonna happen: I'm gonna spank your ass before you clean up from lunch. Then I'll watch you cleaning up and see if you're better focused because I just spanked you. Let's find out if it's true."
He goes into the living room and sits on the couch. "Come here, faggot." I walk over to him and he pats his lap. "Over my knees right now, boy. It's time for your first spanking from me. After that, I'll decide whether or not it should keep happening from now on, whether it will become a regular part of the way I deal with you from now on.."
As I go over his knees with my ass raised I'm quivering. Danny adjusts my position for some reason. My dick is squashed against his thigh so tight that it can't get hard. Then Danny starts caressing my entire ass with his warm hand and it feels so damn, damn nice. Until all of a sudden, his hand lands on my ass with a gentle slap.
Not too bad, I guess, but then another blow lands before I've had time to process the first and assess it, and then more come, pretty quickly, he's touching every inch of my ass, sometimes soothing it, other times spanking it. I start moaning. Danny caresses my warm ass now.
"You know something, faggot? For some reason, this feels like it's the right thing to do. Like the caption said, a spanked boy never forgets his place."
He starts really hitting me hard now and the pain keeps building up and soon I'm doing a lot more than groaning and I start panicking a little bit because I never realized what it would feel like for him to do this to me. Damn, he starts going strong now and I can't help but cry out a couple times when his hand lands on a spot that is already very sore, and the pain starts biting more and more deeply and now I'm writhing and kicking my legs up.
Danny stops hitting me. "Every time you kick those legs up I'll hit you harder. Keep them still." He starts again and a lot of OW!'s are coming out of my mouth and the tears are coming and I can't do anything to stop any of it. I just struggle like hell not to kick up again and now I'm really crying out and my tears are coming and a few more hits later I'm actually crying. "Please, Danny, please, enough, Sir. I'll be a good boy, I promise. OUCH!"
I'm glowing everywhere back there and even on the sides because Danny covered a wide area. He lets me just lie there and I just keep crying. He waits for me to calm down again. It takes longer than I thought it would, of course. And the pain doesn't much go away. I'm burning everywhere and the burn goes deep into me.
Danny starts touching me again, but not my ass. He massages the back of my neck and works his way down my spine and stops short at the beginning of my ass. He does his circles-on-the-back thing he likes to do to calm me down and it does help. I'm more humiliated about crying than about the fact that I just got spanked like a bad little boy. My ass must be as red as the ones in those pictures.
Danny helps me stand up. My hands automatically go to my ass because it hurts so much. Danny doesn't make anything out of it. "Now get that ass into the kitchen and clean up like a good boy who knows his place" Danny tells me. "Yes, Sir," I say. I head inside, and as I carry our dishes from the table to the sink the tears start in again. Fuck! Danny just spanked my ass and it hurts.
Then I realize that this is only the first time. There will be more. It's part of the deal now. and I'm not walking away even though the thought of him spanking me more tomorrow horrifies me. I don't think I'd want anyone else to know about what Danny just did to me and what it means for our life together from here on in. One step further into becoming his slave. Or maybe I'm already there. Maybe that's why he says it felt right for him to do this to me, never waiting to see if I'd refuse to submit to it.
No. I know I'm never going to refuse him. I don't care how much it hurts. Well, actually I do care because it's me that has to feel the pain and dammit the pain is intense from just that one simple spanking. What will it be like if Danny's really angry with me about something? Would he punish me when he's angry or wait until he calmed down a bit? Oh damn, so much to think about and worry about right now. And fuck! My ass hurts so much and the pain isn't going away. My cock is completely soft—shrunk, even.
"Focus, Gavin, focus," I say to myself and try to pour my entire heart and soul into every single move I make because my service gives Danny pleasure. . . .
He stands in the doorway just watching me work, rinsing each dish and trying to put my entire mind into feeling the water cleansing that dish before I put it into a rack in the dishwasher. Carefully, deliberately. I lose myself in doing what pleases him. Now it's just taken on a more intense dimension.
Once I've got all the dishes settled I concentrate on wiping the table clean and putting away what's still on the tabletop—water pitcher, ketchup, salt and pepper. For some reason I am determined to take every single thing off the table and just find out how nice it would look completely cleared off. So that's what I do and I `m well aware that this is completely new, doing chores for him after he just spanked me. Hard. He finally did it to me. And while he was spanking me, he told me it felt right for him to be doing it.
Yes. I've become his slave. He can beat me whenever he wants, then I'll bow down to the floor to kiss his feet or get up and suck his armpits, or his balls or his dick. And dammit, it feels right to me as well.
Fuck! I realize something: This isn't just what he wants, it's what I want as well. In fact, I admit to myself that it's something I actually need, not just what he wants. And do you know what? As soon as I get the kitchen done I get down on the floor in front of him and kiss his feet. Dammit, I realize I'm showing him my gratitude, my absolute surrender to what he just did to me. Holy shit. Once again it brings our relationship to a new level. Holy shit. Once again, I'm lower than I've ever been before.
Danny speaks in a new voice which I soon realize is his "Master voice." What does he want to tell me? "That's right, faggot. Kiss the feet of the man who beat your ass. Kiss those feet to show him how grateful you are that he takes the trouble to discipline you and remind you that in his eyes you're his little boy who needs to get punished on a regular basis. Show me that you know your place now and that you're learning more about how I want you to behave. Damn, Gavin, this is so fucking hot. So fucking adorable, baby," and all of a sudden his voice softens and he practically makes love to me with his voice.
"I promised you I'd care for you, Gavin, and that's what I'm doing. What just happened is me caring enough to treat you like a slave because it's good for you to realize that's what you are. Sure, things have just shifted between the two of us, and as far as I'm concerned, it's about time you know the score.
So go inside now . . no, don't get up, faggot.. Fucking crawl inside and make sure you're good and clean inside because I really want to fuck that ass I just thrashed. Piss if you have to—you can piss in the toilet sitting down this time. but don't stand up. Let's make this a custom. Whenever I thrash you, you stay down on the ground and crawl or grovel, whatever. You stay down until I decide to let you up again. Let the reality of what just happened sink into your mind. You're all mine, boy, my personal faggot."
Now I have a dilemma: how the fuck do I just make sure I'm clean? I guess the only way is to give myself an enema and see what the results are. If everything doesn't come out clear, then I do it again and again until I'm clear.
Maybe this is weird, but deep down inside I have this thought that one of the days Danny will fuck me and I won't be completely clean and he'll get angry and make me clean him up with my mouth. Maybe that would never happen. I don't really think Danny would make me do something like that. But still the fear is there, because I'm sure there are slaves around who have to do that all the time. Eeew!
Maybe I'm safe because Danny is "straight." Sure. "Straight" Danny is going to fuck me and it's going to hurt because he just thrashed me and my ass is very sore. That's what straight boys do, right? Beat faggots then fuck them?
All these thoughts are hot as hell, but let's face it: underneath all of this I understand how much Danny really cares about me—maybe it's love but it doesn't matter what I call it—and even this, even everything that's happening right now is something Danny's doing because he knows I need to be treated this way a lot. Danny's exploring how he can really care for me—the real me. the sub me. the masochistic me.
Sure he hurt me. Sure, he has the power to do it whenever he wants—always for my own good, of course. Sure, I willingly gave him that power because that's what I want as well. To be his slave in every possible way.
And fuck it all. A little later, while he's ramming himself into me again and again and watching the tears come to my eyes because it hurts so much—not because he's fucking me, because that feels awesome, but on the outside where he spanked me. Then he pierces my eyes with his and says "Damn it. I fucking love doing this to you, baby." He loves doing it. Is that his way of telling me he loves me? After all I've been through this afternoon, I have the right to know he loves me.
It's all about caring, in a strange and kinky way. Not everyone would agree with me, but that's the way I'm feeling things at the moment, while Danny is fucking the ass he just thrashed, fucking the tears out of my eyes. And do you know something? Damn, this feels so very, very right. Appropriate. Sacred, even, me being Danny's, just like this.
And then, he's looking at me with love in his eyes. you know what? This is the way it was always meant to be. And you're never going to believe what happened next. . .
Write me at subkodak25@gmail.com. I'll send you my entire story list if you ask.
I'VE SELECTED PICTURES to represent Danny and Gavin. I'll send them to you if you ask.
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I'm still looking for beta readers for a big project I'm working on. It's a lot more involved than the stories I usually write. If you're interested, write me at gordongary946@gmail.com and tell me a bit about your background. I'm looking for people who have struggle with being gay and Christian at the same time.