Page 58 of Atlas & Miles
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“Okay!” I called an hour later while Miles was getting dressed in my bedroom. I had today’s reunion schedule up on my phone as I stood at the breakfast bar waiting for him to get dressed in those delicious gray pants from last night. “The game is at eleven. After that, they’ll have food trucks set up outside the high school. Oh! That’s fun! Then a group photo and yearbook signing at one-thirty—”
Miles stuck his head out of the bedroom, stepping into view. “Group photo?”
I waved to cool my face at the bare-chested god in front of me, his open shirt falling around his shoulders, his pants cupping hismuscular legs to perfection, his fly still spread open to reveal his skin-tight navy boxer briefs. “God, you’re hot.”
My beautiful boy blushed as he started buttoning his shirt. Regrettably. “Shush. Now, group photo?”
I waved him off, knowing his objection without him saying it. The man didn’t like to be the center of attention. “There will be so many of us there, no one will notice you. You just stand, look pretty, and smile at the camera.”
“I know no one will noticeme, but . . .” His hand swiped through the air, moving up and down to indicate my entire body like a terrible game show assistant. “No one will be able to keep their eyes offyou.”
I was feeling he/him this morning, though I had on tight white jeans, a pair of simple black flats, and a flowy emerald short-sleeved satin shirt that hung off one shoulder and draped unevenly across my torso. It would definitely keep me cool during the basketball game that pitted the alumni varsity team against the current one. I couldn’t care less about sports, but it would be amusing to see a bunch of guys my age trying to keep up with sixteen-to-eighteen-year-olds.
Channeling my favorite grump, I pursed my lips at him, feigning hurt. “And that’s a problem, why?”
Miles crossed his arms over his lickable chest, the top half of his shirt still unbuttoned, and I almost started drooling. “It’s not a problem, Daddy. I just don’t know how I’m expected to, in your words, ‘look pretty’”—he added air quotes—“when you’ll be beside me stealing the show. I can only hope to not look like a complete ogre next to you.”
My knees went a little weak, but I stood my ground. “As sweet as that is, baby boy, you could never look like an ogre. Besides,” I continued, glancing down at my phone again, “ogre book boyfriends are a thing. No kink shaming in this house.”
Miles threw his head back and laughed, attending to his shirt buttons once more. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, group photo. And yearbook signing? If I remember correctly, we didn’t have yearbooks senior year, right?”
I nodded, still flicking through the online schedule. “Right. I heard someone found the original files from back in the day and the reunion committee is having them printed for attendees. So we get to relive a high school memory that never was.”
My grumpy boy scowled at me, no doubt realizing he would have to be social—presenting me with the perfect opportunity.
“I think my boy needs a reminder to be good today, don’t you think?”
Miles’s eyes widened, and his hands froze on the top button near his collar. “Wh-what, Daddy?”
My devilish grin felt amazing. “You seem a little grumpy about going today, baby. I think you need a good spanking before we go. You know, a little reminder to behave.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, but I knew he wasn’t going to safeword. He’d gotten good at acting petulant and fighting me on the discipline we both knew he craved, but he could never fully hide the lust that sparked in his eyes. “I don’t want a spanking.”
I shrugged. “Even better. Gives me a reason to give you more.” I waltzed over to the davenport, tucking pillows behind my back until I was sitting far enough forward that he had room to settle over my lap. We’d long ago moved the coffee table to a permanent place farther away from the davenport for precisely this reason. “Over my knee. Now.”
Miles didn’t obey right away, a move he knew would earn him more spankings, but I suspected that was the point. Still, Stern Daddy was coming out.
“Now, boy. Every delay and disobedience just adds more.”
My deliciously defiant boy lifted his chin, straightened his shoulders, and took his sweet time sauntering over to me. Once he’d reached my side, he still made no move to drape himself over my lap.
“Not ready to give in, huh? Okay, boy, two can play this game. Go get the black paddle, the blue plug, the lube, a towel, and the nipple clamps. And if you’re not back in twenty seconds, your punishment will be even more severe.”
My words finally worked, and I saw his eyes widen before he spun and hurried toward the bedroom.
“And leave those clothes on!” I shouted after him. I had plans for this scene, and he was going to be an absolute mess by the time we were done.
He was back in what I was going to say was twenty seconds—I hadn’t timed it—with everything in tow. His balking earlier was likely because of the blue plug. It wasn’t the largest I owned, but it was ridged and would tease his prostate until it was nearly unbearably sensitive as I spanked him. He couldn’t wear it all day, though, so I would swap it out for a smaller, more modest one after we played here. He’d need both a sore assandthe plug to remind him who his Daddy was today while we were around all those people.
I was going to miss this.
Shaking my despondent thoughts away, I took each item from him one at a time, setting them on the seat cushion beside me before laying the towel over my lap. Then I pointed a finger at my boy. “On your knees.”
Perhaps sensing I was going to deliver what he needed, Miles complied instantly, falling to his knees before me. We were both fully dressed, and the thought of him at least partially wearing these dress clothes while he was thoroughly punished for an imagined infraction made my dick throb.
“Good boy,” I offered, relishing the blush in his cheeks at that. “But that won’t get you out of the thorough punishment you have coming your way.”
