Chapter 9
Arnie
I didn’t have to come up with any old excuse in the end for Jamie to be punished. His answers were almost all correct but written sloppily. Brackets are missing, and entire lines of work, done in his head, skipping key elements to show his work, adorn the paper in front of us.
Bent over on his elbows, his delicate dancer’s frame in front of me, I can’t help but think of how lucky I am that Jamie is trusting me like this.
With his mind, his body, and it’s so brave of him to enter this dynamic, unaware of what he’s giving to me as well.
He tells me where he went wrong with the first red mark I’ve made on the paper, and my hand comes down to connect with his pale skin. He moves as if trying to get away, but I tuck my other arm under his waist and keep him there.
“Good, Jamie, move on to the next one.”
His breathing hitches, and for a second, I think he might say red or stop, but he carries on to the next red mark and I smack the other side of him, sending a groan out of him mid-sentence.
We dance back and forth between his wrong-doing and my punishment for it. He gasps, groans, and eventually humps the air.
Seems my genius loves spanking, how fortunate for me. I’m hard under my sweats, but this session isn’t about me. It’s about pushing Jamie, reinforcing the good within him whilst removing the bad habits with his work.
“Keep going, Jamie, you’re doing so well. Just a few more, and then we will do the last punishment.”
I kiss the flank of his ass that’s sprinkled with light freckles before swiping my palm through the air and cracking him again. I make blows to each side, then one in the middle. His groans become moans; he’s panting by the time he’s finished reading the red errors.
He slumps into the desk, turning his face to look up at me. A fresh line of sweat is on his brow, and his cheeks are as red as his puffy, wet eyes.
“Colour?”
He closes his eyes and, with a shaky breath, tells me green when he reopens them.
A single tear rolls down his cheek. Beautiful.
I stroke his stomach with my thumb where I’m still holding him in place.
Soothing him before offering him the chance to bask in the blissful pain he’s endured. To give him a chance to fly.
“I’m going to give you a choice here, Jamie. You have the option to take twelve harsher hits now, or I will allow you to get off on me and add those twelve hits to your next punishment whenever it happens."
He blinks slowly, as if he’s already floating away into subspace. I rub up and down his legs, over his delicious peach of an ass, then back to his stomach. Never seeming to get enough of touching his creamy skin. He hums in what seems to be some sort of contentment before making his decision.
A part of me wants him to choose the latter so I can see his radiant features as he releases.
“Twelve. Please,” he whispers, but his tone tells me he’s aware of what he’s asking for, and I am all too happy to oblige.
Rubbing his sore, red skin before getting him back into position, I lean close to tell him, “These will hurt more. Red to stop, and I will; you can trust me. Ready?”
I watch him as he mumbles something too quietly to himself before nodding and saying green again, like a good little sub.
The first one makes him scream out and thrash. I hold him tightly by the waist and continue my onslaught of heavy smacks in the same pattern as before, only now his skin is going a dark purple to match the red that’s already there.
By the seventh one, he’s sobbing and thrusting the air, desperate for friction of any kind. He’s whispering and drooling please repeatedly as I continue, and by the last one, he’s silent.
Overcome with emotion and drained, subspace has swallowed him whole.
I slowly stand him up, then drag him back up against me in my chair, so his back is to my bare chest. His breaths are slow and calm as he turns his head into my neck, where he takes comfort in the crook there.
I run my fingertips up and down his sides, telling him how good he is and how well he did his first time. He reacts so well to praise, and he’s earned it.
I lower my fingers to the waistband of his jockstrap, thumbing along it in small swipes as he becomes heavier, drifting away from the intensity.
That’s when I feel it. The wet warmth.
“Naughty Jamie. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
I lift my fingers from his waistband to my mouth, and my tongue darts out to taste his divine release.
I’m not sure when he came or if he was aware of it, but my god, it’s hot. Hands-free and over something as modest as a spanking?
We are undoubtedly going to have some fun together.
“Jamie, come and get in the bath. It’ll help soothe your skin. We wouldn’t want you unable to sit through Simmons’ class come Monday, do we?”
That stirs him, and he groans into my neck. My need to get him on his knees is so loud that I need to get him out of the room before I lose control.
I stand, taking him with me, and take him back downstairs and into the bathroom, where I place him in the built-in bath on the tiled floor. He watches me through half-lidded eyes as I set about getting the water temperature right and mixing some bubbles in for him.
As much as I love that lavender scent he has, I look forward to him smelling like me.
I grab a cloth and begin to wash him, and he lets me. Giving me more power than I deserve. I admire him as I wash his curls, his tight frame from dancing. Jamie wet is doing nothing for my lusting need, and so I leave him there to grab him fresh clothes.
He has a towel around his waist and seems to be more with it when I come back with a fresh jockstrap for him to put on.
He eyes it but says nothing, dropping his towel and sharing with me my first full look at his body in its entirety.
A long, veiny cock, even soft. His balls sit lower and are big.
My mouth waters. God, when was the last time I had a cock in my mouth?
When my eyes make their way back up his body, he’s smirking at me.
Caught.
But he doesn’t have the upper hand here, so I smirk back as I make my way over to him, bending him over the vanity unit and rubbing the soothing cream into his fiery skin.
I take more time than I need to, not ready to take my hands off him yet. Unsure how he feels about my touching him again so soon, I avoid eye contact in the mirror as I finish up. Once done, I let my hand linger a few moments on his shoulders before pulling away.
“Time to make lunch. Let’s go, Jamie, I have more for you to do before you see your room for tonight.”
I wink at him in the mirror, then leave him to it.