Page 10 of A Stable Daddy

Picking up on the message, Ryan pulls his hand back and I immediately miss his touch. But I promised him a spanking, and I always deliver on my promises.

Positioning myself against the headboard, I sit in the middle of the mattress, then gesture for Ryan to join me. “Boxers on or off?” I ask him as he kneels beside my thighs, and he swallows roughly.

“Off.”

“Good boy.”

He blushes prettily but pushes the cotton down, revealing his hardening cock and a manicured thatch of silvery pubic hair. My mouth waters, but I remind myself yet again that I made this sweet Boy a promise.

“Over my lap,” I instruct him, then shuffle sideways until his belly is resting against my left thigh, his hands curled under my right. I place pillows under his knees for a bit more leverage and support, given that he’s lying down rather than kneeling. It’s not the most usual position for this sort of thing, but it’s going to work just fine.

Stroking my hand down the line of his spine, I rest my palm on his bare ass cheek, perfectly rounded and just a bit furry. Inanother life, and under different circumstances, I would have loved the opportunity to bite into that tempting flesh. Sadly, we only have tonight.

“You comfortable?” I ask him. “Knees okay like this? Not straining your back?”

“I’m good,” he says, nodding. He sounds genuinely grateful when he adds, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” I reward him, watching goosebumps break out over his skin. “Now, what’s the safe-word?”

“Red to stop,” he tells me dutifully.

“That’s right.” I wait a beat. “Can you tell me what this discipline is for? You don’t have to.”

People have many reasons for craving a spanking, many of which include trying to absolve themselves of whatever mistakes they think they’ve made recently or in times gone by. Others just chase the high of subspace, taken there by giving over control and relishing the pain. And some just find relaxation in giving in to the pain and submission to someone else.

Because I want to know Ryan, even if only for tonight, I want to understand where he’s coming from. I want to know whether he fits one of these categories or some mixture of all of them. I want to be able to help him as best I can.

“I…I get antsy,” he confesses into the quiet of my hotel room. It’s dark, but with the lights from the brightly lit city sprawling outside spilling in from the window, I can see him just fine. He’s turned his head to peer up at me while he answers, and the glittering lights from outside the window make his eyes shine. “Regular spankings or paddlings settle me. I don’t know why. I get all worked up about…well, life stuff, y’know? All the stupid things I’ve said or done build up and eat at me, and spanking helps me deal with that.”

With the way he seems to subconsciously lean into my touch, I have to wonder how much of his self-administered therapycomes from the spankings and how much comes from the aftercare.

I love the aftercare.

“Thank you for explaining that,” I say. Then, after a beat, I ask, “Are you ready to start? Traffic light colour?”

“Yes, Daddy,” he answers, and the title seems less stilted now, like he’s getting used to saying it. “Green light.”

I begin by rubbing the perfect globes of his ass, loving how firm they feel as I warm the skin up beneath my palms. I wait for the tension to melt out of his shoulders before I deliver the first stinging slap to the underside of his left cheek, before swiftly repeating the motion on his right cheek. He flinches on impact but relaxes again until the next swat lands.

I build up momentum, alternating cheeks and landing spots for a few minutes, drawing out the length of time between blows so he isn’t quite able to anticipate when I’ll strike. When his cheeks start to redden from my slaps, his breathing changes. I make sure to listen for signs of distress, but after landing a firm smack to the middle of his left, fleshy globe, the gasp he releases doesn’t sound panicked or fearful. Instead, he sounds mildly pained and a little aroused: just the combination I’m hoping for.

I scale up the force of my next smack, and his body jerks forward, a whimper escaping him as his fingers flex into the underside of my thigh.

“That’s it, darlin’,” I encourage, keeping my voice low and gentle, “you’re taking Daddy’s spanking so well.”

I bring my hand back down with a resoundingthwack.

Ryan whimpers again.

“You can get louder,” I tell him. “No need to hold back.”

I land another couple of smacks in quick succession to what has to be very tender skin by now. His whimpers get a little louder, inching closer to sobs.

“Is this what you need, baby?”

“P-please, Daddy,” he moans as I spank him again and again, “more. I…I need…I need to learn a l-lesson…” The words are turning strained, his voice cracking as his tears finally spill over.

I can’t help the small frown that tugs my eyebrows together. “What lesson?”

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