Page 17 of Dirty Hand

He pouted, a look he’d perfected by studying himself in the mirror for hours while practicing. One never knew when one needed to turn on the pout, and this was the perfect occasion for it.

Daddy laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “You are a devious little shit. A sexy, horny, naughty boy. We’re gonna have fun, you and I.”

He leaned over and grabbed the lube from the table, then squirted out a liberal amount onto his cock. “You happy now?”

He was. In fact, as George closed his eyes and rode both himself and Daddy to a roaring climax, he realized the idea of being Jack’s boy made him happier than he’d been in a long time.

9

The first week had flown by. George had picked up his laptop, a monitor, and some clothes from his apartment and had installed his tech in Jack’s spare bedroom, which had a desk. It wasn’t ideal as it was a tad too high, but for two weeks, it would be fine.

He didn’t plan on working a lot anyway. He’d had a number of well-paying customers in a row, so he could afford to scale back for two weeks. Hell to the no was he missing out on spending time with Jack. With Daddy. Their days were filled with fun, ranging from grocery shopping together—Jack turned out to be an accomplished cook—to going for a hike in a nearby state park, kayaking, and of course all the sex stuff, as George called it.

And there was a lot of sex stuff happening. George had always known he had a high sex drive—he’d once joked that between him and Gale, they probably hit the average—and Jack’s matched his. Daddy had made it a habit to rub one out in the morning while making George perform for him, whether it was in the shower, giving him an erotic dance, or pleasuring himself while Daddy watched.

Later in the day, there would be more. Blow jobs, hand jobs, and George’s favorite: hard fucks that had him begging to come with Daddy telling him he couldn’t. In fact, that was what had gotten him into trouble exactly a week after he’d met Daddy. Daddy had been fucking him, and George had come despite Daddy's admonishments not to. Daddy had cleaned them both up, but they were still in the bedroom, George sitting on the bed while Daddy stood in front of him.

“I didn’t mean to, Daddy,” he said, pouting while batting his eyelashes. He’d discovered Daddy was far from immune to that.

But this time, Daddy looked stern, his hands on his hips. The fact that he was still buck naked made him even more imposing, his flaccid cock hanging low and heavy. “I don’t believe that for a second. If you had come hands-free, maybe, but I saw you humping the bed. You were trying to get off.”

Shit. He’d thought he’d been subtle, but apparently, Daddy had paid attention. His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Daddy crossed his arms. “Coming without permission is one thing, but trying to lie about it when I confront you? That doesn’t fly with me. You knew the rules, so now there will be punishment.”

George’s stomach roiled. “P-punishment?”

Without saying another word, Daddy walked over to the reading chair in the corner and sat down, then crooked his finger and gestured George to come over. Uh-oh. He scrambled off the bed, not wanting to displease Daddy even more.

“Over my knee. I’m gonna spank you so you’ll know never to lie to me again.”

Oh, shit. He could stop it. All he had to say was one word, and he could stop it. But did he want to? He’d deserved this if he were honest with himself. He had come without permission, he had done it on purpose, and he had lied about it. He hated how it made him feel inside, especially seeing the disappointment on Daddy's face.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He avoided Daddy's eyes when he stepped closer, then allowed Daddy to pull him down over his knee. “Why am I disciplining you?” Daddy asked, his voice stern and heavy.

“B-because I lied to you, Daddy. I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.”

“I believe you, cupcake. Be a good boy and take your punishment, okay? We both know you deserve this, and Daddy’s not gonna go easy on you. This will hurt.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Before he could mentally prepare himself, Daddy’s hand connected firmly with his ass, and a stinging pain shot through him as his body jerked in protest. “Ouch!”

“Hush now. Be good for Daddy.”

The next hit came right after, and Daddy hadn’t been lying when he’d said it would hurt. The man packed a wallop in his hand, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Daddy spanked him harder now, faster, the slaps raining down one after the other. Tears pooled in his eyes, then spilled over, and with his head hanging down, snot was filling his nose. It fucking hurt. His ass was on fire, and he’d probably feel it for hours. Yet strangely enough, it also felt good in a way he couldn’t explain. So warm, and even though he hated the idea of disappointing Daddy, he loved being on Daddy's lap, and he even like how Daddy disciplined him without mercy. He couldn’t keep still, squirming and thrashing, though he wasn’t even sure if he was trying to get away or move closer so he’d get more.

And then it stopped, Daddy’s hand halting, then gently rubbing his ass cheeks. George winced at the burn that friction created. “I’ve decided that I love your ass even more when it’s all red,” Daddy said. “Wait, let me show you.”

He moved a little, his left hand letting go of George’s neck. What was he doing? George looked half up, then froze as he saw the phone in Daddy’s hand. Oh, fuck. Was he…? He was. With one hand, Daddy swiped up, aimed the phone at George’s ass, and pressed, the all too familiar sound of the shutter indicating he’d taken a picture. Then another one and George groaned in protest. “Jack… Daddy!”

The phone was shoved under his nose. “Look at that, cupcake. Isn’t that spectacular?”

---