Chapter Thirty-One
A Private Gathering
I’d rarely seen Oscar so addled with the drink. I supposed the thought of being able to return to our home and friends in Port Essington had made him carefree, and he’d overdone it. At least I was here to make sure he didn’t trip and smash his head into the mantel.
“Oscar, be careful. You ain’t too steady right now,” I said, grabbing his arm as he careened toward the wall.
“I’m fine, Jimmy,” he slurred. “Stop babyin’ me.”
“Oh, I ain’t babyin’ you, I reckon. I’m only watchin’ out for you.”
“Oh, you are, are you? Watch this, then,” Oscar said, tugging his shirt from his trousers and lifting it to bare his chest as he wiggled in a deliberately alluring way.
Miss June threw back her head and laughed, while Maggie whooped and stomped her feet, raising her glass. We’d brought in a couple of straight chairs for them to sit on, and both of them had a look of relaxation and pleasure on their rosy faces as they enjoyed the fine bourbon.
“Settle down,” I said. “Can’t you see we got company?”
Oscar let his shirt drop and grinned with a devilish air.
“I guess you’re lucky, then, else I would have stripped myself completely and laid on that bed there,” he pointed to it. “Then I would’ve taken my—”
“All right, all right, now.” I glanced at Miss June and Maggie.
Maggie had leaned forward, and now she was shaking her head.
“What would you have done, Oscar? Don’t be shy on our account.”
I put my head in my hands as Miss June grinned. I should have known ’twas no use trying to stop him.
“Well, I…” Oscar said, hesitating.
I glanced between my fingers to see him watching me with a fond, sympathetic look.
“I suppose I would have taken my—pillow—and turned in for the night. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” Maggie said. “Sure.”
“Well, I am feelin’ mighty tired all the sudden.”
I lowered my hands, and watched as Oscar gave a great, and probably fabricated, yawn. I reckoned he only wanted to be alone with me, and I couldn’t say I objected to that idea.
“Maggie, would you like to continue our celebration?” Miss June asked, as she forced herself upright. “I have some of that very good cannabis in my room—or we can share a cigar?”
“Well, that sounds like a mighty fine idea, Miss June. I ain’t ready for bed, yet, though I can see that these boys are. Although I don’t expect they’re gonna do any sleepin’.”
“Come on now. Let’s leave them be. Jimmy looks like he’s going to melt away with embarrassment.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, a half-drank glass of bourbon in my hand, while Miss June and Maggie picked up their chairs and took them along, closing the door on us. I stared at the brown liquid in my glass, enjoying the silence and the fact that we were alone.
Oscar came and stood before me, his arms crossed as he gazed down at my drink.
“You gonna finish that?” he asked.
I blinked up at him. I’d be damned if I was gonna contribute to his drunkenness. I held his gaze as I lifted it and drank the rest of the bourbon down in one gulp, then put the empty glass on the nearby dresser. The disappointment on Oscar’s face was comical.
“Well, that ain’t very nice,” he said, lowering his arms and preparing to step away.
“C’mere,” I said, reaching out and taking his wrist, so I could turn him and face him toward the hearth, where a low fire burned steadily. The patter of the evening rain and the crackle of the flames were the only sounds but for Oscar’s hitched breath.
I pushed the braces off his shoulders and let them fall, then with one hand I undid the front of his trousers and pulled them down.
“Jimmy. God. What’re you doin’?”
“You were awfully rude to me in front of our friends. You think that’s gonna go unpunished?”
I gave his bare ass a slap with the flat of my hand, holding him still, and Oscar yelped, then tried to break free. But I only tugged him around and pulled him o’er my lap.
He landed with a grunt and wriggled in protest, but I had a good hold of him. I didn’t think he was trying to get away. He pretended he didn’t want what I was giving him, when, in truth, ’twas exactly what he was craving.
“Be still, son,” I murmured, feeling my cock plump up underneath his writhing body. “And take what you got comin’.”
Then I remembered he’d had a lot to drink and loosened my hold. “Ah shit. I shouldn’t do this when you’re drunk.”
Oscar snorted a laugh. “I ain’t drunk. Not really.”
“But you were slurrin’ and swayin’ a minute ago.”
He turned his head to stare at me from beneath the flop of his bangs. “I may have been playin’ it up a bit, since I knew ’twould vex you.”
Yeah, he did that a lot, it seemed. Instigating little brat .
“Oscar Yates,” I said, “why, you are even naughtier than I’d imagined. ’Tis a good thing you’re across my lap.”
He huffed a laugh and gave another half-hearted wriggle. “I reckon so.”
Then I swatted his bare ass so hard that he jerked and uttered a surprised yelp.
“Jimmy!” he said, the yelp turning into a soft moan. “Gawd.”
’Twas like the first time I’d ever spanked him, in the hotel the day after we’d met, after he’d woken me with his mouth on my privates and I’d realized I’d got more than I’d bargained for when I’d offered a helping hand.
Turned out he’d known exactly what to do to get me to forget all my principles and give in to my baser instincts.
At the time, I’d been confused and startled by my feelings.
By now, I was used to them, and I savored how joyful it felt to have Oscar safe and contained o’er my lap, taking a spanking that symbolized my love and care for him and knew he had wantings that matched mine.
I’d long gotten o’er the guilt and shame of it, and Oscar had never struggled with any of that.
“You are a very naughty boy, Oscar Yates,” I said in the gravelly tones he liked so much. “And I aim to teach you how to behave.”
“I am,” he muttered, grinding his hard cock against my thigh. “I am so goddamned naughty. I might have drank a bit too much of that nice bourbon. That’s not very responsible of me, is it?”
“No, it ain’t,” I agreed, glad he was fully on board with pretending. “I reckon ’tis only because you ain’t had any proper rearin’,” I said, spanking him again. “And I aim to fix that right now.”
He made a choked sound as I started to go at him in earnest—not as serious as a punishment, but hard enough to inflame him, let him know I meant business and that I was priming his ass for what I wanted even more than this.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d have him making a mess on my trousers, which had happened on occasion.
Since we were in an actual cathouse, we didn’t have to worry about the noises of our strange pastime, even though it did make me a tad self-conscious to know other folks could hear us. Nobody would pay it any mind, though, and ’twasn’t gonna stop me from taking him the way I wanted.
“Are you sorry? Are you sorry for your bad behavior?”
Oscar grunted as I spanked him, and I wondered if he was gonna answer me. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, mister. I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible tease and a rude fella. Is there any way I can make it up to you? I’ll do whatever you want!”
Well, this was interesting. Oscar had altered the rules of this game all of a sudden, and I liked where he was going with it.
“Oh, you’ll make it up to me, I reckon. Don’t you worry about that,” I said, smoothing a hand o’er his plump behind where I’d spanked it and feeling warmth on my thigh from his leaking cock.
“I ain’t stoppin’ yet, though. You’re gonna take a few more swats so’s I know you’ve learned your lesson.
I saw you take that woman’s pocketbook, and that ain’t the way a gentleman behaves. ”
“No,” Oscar moaned, as I rained more slaps on his poor behind. “Stop. Stop! I’m sorry. I only needed money. I’ll behave!”
“You will. And you better not spend on me, because I got plans for that little dick of yours.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Oscar panted. “I’m gonna spend for real if you keep talkin’ that way.”
I stopped, and brought both of us to our feet, holding him firm with a hand on his arm, as I wrapped strong fingers around the base of his cock and squeezed.
“ Don’t. You. Dare,” I whispered, the pressure around the base of his cock preventing him from going o’er and driving him mad in the process.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed. “I won’t. I won’t. Oh goddammit.” He hissed in the pain of holding back when there was nothing else he could do but suffer it—and curse.
I had him right where I wanted him. When his body had backtracked from the edge and his breathing calmed a bit, I released my hold on his cock and his arm and stepped back.
I grabbed one of the straight chairs and pulled it o’er, sitting on it and leaning back as if I were ready for a show.
I crossed one leg across the other and folded my arms.
“Go on,” I said. “You wanna keep playing this game?”
Oscar stood there, swaying, and gazing at me out of dazed and confused eyes. “Huh?”
“You wanted to strip for me earlier, when our guests were here. I reckon you can do it for me now, so’s I can enjoy it in private.”
“Well shit, mister,” Oscar whined. “You sure got a strange way of punishin’ me for stealin’. I reckon I’ll think twice about it in future.”
I grinned. “See that you do. Anyway, I’ll make sure you don’t want for nothin’, if you stay with me. I’ll keep you safe and fed, and I’ll look out for you.”
Oscar lifted his chin. “Does that include spankin’ me like you just done?”
I winked. “Oh, it surely does…when you’ve been bad.” I uncrossed my arms and leaned forward. “Do you like to be bad, Oscar Yates?”
His lips parted, and his breaths came quicker as he nodded.
“I thought so. Well, I aim to teach you to be good. And if you’re good, you’ll get a reward. You want that?”
He nodded, his gaze burning into mine.
“All right, then. Take the rest of them clothes off… now .”
In a flurry of motion, Oscar stepped out of his crumpled trousers and stripped the rest of his things off, leaving them in a pile. ’Twasn’t exactly a tease like I’d hoped for, but more of a surrender, which pleased me as much.
“ Good. Boy .”
“Oh fuck,” Oscar said. “I am your good boy, mister. I’ll be your good boy, if you’ll keep me and fuck me and spank me.”
I raised my brows. “My, my… Seems we may have a deal, then. Git o’er here, on the bed on your hands and knees. And spread them knees so’s I can see your sweet hole.”
Oscar almost choked on his own spittle.
“I swear, you’re gonna kill me, Jimmy.”
I grinned. “Oh, I hope not. On the bed, now . And how did you know my name was Jimmy? Maybe you oughta keep calling me ‘mister’.”
Oscar scrambled himself onto the bed and got into position, his hand going to his little nubby for some relief.
“Uh-uh. Hands off your cock. That there nubby is mine from now on, not yours.”