Part Seven Yours Sincerely
“Did you think I might want to spank you improperly?”
Scott looked up from the glass of Coke he’d been staring into for the last fifteen minutes, while he patiently waited for Joe to finish his late shift at the club.
The words in the note he’d handed over at the start of their date played through Scott’s mind as he met Joe’s eyes across the bar top.
I’d like you to spank me properly, please.
Joe raised an eyebrow; he obviously wanted an answer now, and not whenever the hell Scott felt like giving one.
Playing for an extra few seconds to pull his thoughts together, Scott took a hasty sip of his drink and cleared his throat.
“I just m-meant that you wouldn’t have to hold b-back on my account.
” He peered down into his drink as he turned his glass around and around on the bar.
“I know you’ve been d-doing this for years and I’m just getting s-s-started, but you don’t have to m-make allowances for me. ” He risked a glance up.
Joe had his arms folded and was resting them on the bar directly opposite Scott. His expression didn’t change as their eyes met.
Someone working further down the bar called time. Everyone began to make their way toward the door, except Scott—he remained on his stool. Even if he hadn’t been sure that was what Joe expected him to do, looking away from Joe was unthinkable.
The room fell silent around them. Scott’s heart beat faster and faster.
Finally, Joe’s lips quirked into a smile and the world kicked back in motion.
Joe walked a little way down the bar. Scott glanced into every shadowy corner of the room, checking no one else was around.
He took a deep breath. They were the only ones there.
If this was going to happen, it was going to happen now. Scott wiped his hands on his jeans as his palms turned slick with sweat. The skin across his buttocks tingled, and Joe hadn’t even looked at his arse, let alone struck it.
Adrenaline rushed through Scott’s veins, and his throat went dry. He was going to be spanked by Joe. He grinned at that knowledge, unsure how he’d managed to get so lucky.
Incapable of sitting still for another moment, Scott clambered down from his high barstool. His trainers squeaked against the floorboards. Joe looked up from whatever he’d been doing on the other side of the bar.
Scott froze. “Sh-should I…?” He waved a hand toward the empty room.
“Should you what?”
Scott fiddled with the end of his belt as he tried to think of a sensible way to finish the sentence. Should he set up whatever Joe needed in order to spank him? Should he bare his backside in readiness?
“Your arse will get hellish cold on the ride home if you drop your jeans now,” Joe warned, when Scott failed to utter a single word.
“H-home?” Scott repeated blankly.
“What?” Joe asked, turning to face Scott properly. “Did you think I was going to spank you here? And then what, send you off home before you could even sit comfortably behind the wheel of your car?”
“Um…Yes?” Scott said. “Or in a t-taxi anyway—turns out my car’s a write off and…”
His words died as Joe shook his head in apparent disbelief.
“Well, like you said. I know what I’m doing. You don’t.” Joe pushed himself away from the shelf behind the bar. “You’re coming home with me tonight.”
Joe stepped out from behind the bar, picked up his jacket and headed for the door. Scott hurried after him. He only just reached the front door in time to slip out before Joe pulled the shutters down and ended up locking him inside.
Joe tutted. “Keep up, Scottie.”
Scottie? Folding his arms across his chest, Scott just stood there, feeling very much like a spare part while Joe locked up the club.
Joe never hesitated. His movements were strong and confident. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t doing anything kinky at that particular moment; Scott was still enthralled by every movement of Joe’s body.
Scott was so busy admiring the view, he was caught completely off guard by a set of keys suddenly being thrown in his direction. He missed the catch and had to pick them up off the pavement.
“In the panniers on my bike, there’s a spare helmet, some gloves, and a jacket; put them on.”
Scott obeyed; it didn’t occur to him to do anything else. Obedience was what his dates with Joe were all about. Every command made Scott’s cock harder.
All things considered, Scott was quite proud of how steady his hands were as he undid the lock, took out the garments, and re-locked the panniers.
Shutters were still rattling down behind Scott as he pulled the helmet on and clawed at the chin strap, determined he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by fumbling about with the damn thing in front of Joe again.
Scott let out a relieved breath as he realised he’d completed that part of his assignment before Joe joined him alongside the bike.
The helmet muffled the sounds of the outside world and made them hard to distinguish, but Scott didn’t worry about that as he pulled on the gloves. The leather was thick. They limited his sense of touch just as thoroughly as the helmet reduced his hearing.
Scott wasn’t sure if it was the muffled sound of footsteps that alerted him to Joe’s approach, or if it was some sort of sixth sense, but he turned just in time to see Joe step up alongside him. In the comparative privacy of the helmet, Scott was free to grin like an idiot.
Joe pulled on his jacket. Quick to follow his lead, Scott reached for the one he’d placed over the bike’s saddle.
The bulk of the helmet made it difficult for him to look down to see what he was doing as he tried to zip up the jacket.
The gloves were too big for him and made it feel like he was working through a dozen layers of thick cotton wool.
The visor blurred his vision, mostly because there was a smudge of something on the bit just in front of his right eye, but he was still able to recognise Joe’s bare hand as it calmly brushed his gloved fingers aside.
Joe had been sensible enough not to put his gloves on until he’d done up all the fiddly little buckles and clasps on his own jacket. Scott could only stare down, feeling helpless and childlike as Joe finished dressing him.
“All done,” Joe announced. He left Scott standing idly next to the bike as he threw one leg over the saddle and settled himself comfortably astride it. He slid his helmet on as easily as if it had been moulded specifically for his head. Finally, Joe nodded to Scott to get on behind him.
Scott already knew how amazing it felt when he was allowed to wrap himself around Joe for a ride. He didn’t need a second invitation. He slid his arms around Joe’s waist and took as firm a grip on him as the oversized gloves would allow as Joe started the bike and pulled away from the kerb.
Joe rode fast, still unwilling to make any sort of allowance for Scott’s lack of experience. Scott chuckled within the privacy of his helmet, lightheaded with a sudden rush of endorphins.
God, he’d been an idiot when he wrote that last note. He’d been stupid to think Joe might go easy on him during the spanking just because he was a novice submissive. Joe never did anything by halves.
It was always all or nothing with Joe, and Scott wanted it all.
As they turned a hair-pin corner, Scott clung even more tightly to Joe. Eyes closed, he made no attempt to track their progress across the city. It was only when Joe killed the engine that Scott realised they’d reached their destination.
Stumbling off the bike on shaky knees, Scott did whatever Joe nudged him to do.
Helmet and jacket off, he soon found himself following Joe into the block of flats.
Then, before he knew it, Scott was standing just inside Joe’s front door, looking around as if he’d never visited anyone’s place before.
Clearing his throat, Scott squared his shoulders and did his best to make himself look like less of a nervous idiot than he actually was. Perhaps it would have been worth the effort if Joe had bothered to look in his direction.
“The living room’s through there.” With his back still toward Scott, Joe waved a hand to an unassuming door halfway down a short hallway.
Scott cautiously made his way toward it while Joe took off his coat.
The hall was bland, white, and empty apart from a row of hooks that held nothing but leather garments.
There was no other hint of Joe’s personality.
It gave Scott no idea what to expect as he peeked into Joe’s living room for the first time.
When he finally found the light switch, a bare bulb flickered to life from a central ceiling rose and illuminated…well, not a lot. Scott walked into the centre of the empty room.
“I come home to sleep or screw, not to play interior decorator. Although I do have a cum-stained cushion around here somewhere, and a tie-back.”
Scott glanced over his shoulder. Joe stood in the living room doorway, leaning against the plain wooden frame.
Turning back to face the blank space, Scott ran his eyes over the stripped floorboards.
Two tall windows occupied the furthest wall; there weren’t any curtains.
Scott paced across to the right-hand window, his footsteps echoing loudly around his featureless surroundings.
The view outside was as drab as the interior. The brick wall of the adjacent block of flats didn’t even have any graffiti on it. No one could see in, but it was impossible not to feel very exposed. Scott stepped away from the window, instinctively crossing his arms in front of him.
“I want you naked by the time I get back.”
Joe was gone before Scott had turned around.
Scott glanced nervously at the uncovered window, but he was already reaching for the edge of his T-shirt.
Joe wanted him naked. If some Spiderman impersonator climbed up the opposite building and peeked through the window, they’d just have to deal with the sight of a grown man getting his bare arse spanked.