Spank You and Goodnight: A BDSM Short Story by J.P. Barnaby

The boy called for silence and asked the assembled crowd to take their seats. Nearly two dozen leather men and a handful of leather women sat in neat little rows about six feet from the raised platform where I stood, waiting. Most of the people I recognized from other demonstrations I’d given, but I did see a few new faces. One or two of those faces surrounded hot little mouths I’d like to get to know much better.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” the boy began, quieting the room with the prospect of a show. “And thank you to the Sound for hosting our event this evening.”

Tony raised a hand in acknowledgement from behind the bar. Truth be told, we were a draw for the bar, especially on a cold and rainy Tuesday night. They liked having us here, and we liked having a place to call home.

“Sir Eric is going to do his demonstration. There won’t be a Q&A at the end, but buy him a drink at the bar and he’ll tell you more than you ever wanted to know,” the boy said in an aside. He gave a nervous laugh with the audience and then ducked his head in deference when I glared at him. I saw a corner in his immediate future—he knew better.

The boy handed over the reins to me, but before I took hold of them, I murmured an instruction in his ear and gave his dick a not-so-gentle squeeze through his neoprene shorts. He trotted off to the far corner in the next room, where he would remain until I released him. Though I took a moment to admire the view as he went.

Showtime.

“Good evening. As the boy said, my name is Sir Eric, and tonight my boy and I will be giving a spanking demo.” I paused as David came up to the raised platform and knelt quietly at my feet on the lawn cushion we’d positioned for him. I admired his trim, lithe body as he rested comfortably on the floor. My fingers tangled in the messy mop of hair. I’d let it slide because he had midterms coming up, but once they were over, I might take the scissors to him myself.

“Down,” I told him firmly, and he dropped to his forearms, ass in the air facing the audience. The jock exposed his body obscenely, and he arched his back with a quiet moan. Such a little whore.

“There are many different types of impact play: spanking, floggers, paddles, crops, whips. Personally, I like the level of intimacy that spanking provides. There’s nothing between your skin and your partner’s skin, and each of you feels the impact with wonderful clarity.” I ran my hand along the line of David’s spine and then followed the line of strap across his left ass cheek. He shivered under my touch.

“Be still,” I told him, relishing in his inability to control his body’s reaction to my touch.

“This demo is going to be more about the techniques rather than the safety or medical aspects of impact play. If you’re looking for more specific information on those topics, I have detailed blog posts on our website. The address is above my head on the banner.” I pointed overhead and gave them a moment to take note of the URL.

“Communication is key in any kind of D/s relationship. If the spanking is being doled out as punishment, make sure your partner knows why it is occurring. If it’s just because you feel like giving them a good spanking, communicate that as well. And never strike someone out of anger.” I met each person’s eye. Our community does not tolerate abuse.

“Next, decide on positioning. Do you want your boy on his knees?” I indicated David by giving his bottom a light swat. “You could also put him over a table, on his back with legs bound in the air, or over your lap. What you don’t want to do is put that person in a position for him or her to lose their balance and fall. The point is controlled pain. So make sure the position supports the impact of your blows.” I grabbed the bottle of water Corner Boy had left for me and then offered a bit to David.

“Once your partner is in a stable position, start with a warm-up. Light smacks on the skin, not only to warm up their body, but their mind. This is especially true for a pleasure spanking. It’s the buildup that gets him off. It’s his reaction that gets you off. Savor it.” I straddled David’s back, making sure to let the inner calf of my leather pants rub against his bare sides. He moaned low in the back of his throat.

I ran my hands over his ass, from his lower back to the tops of his thighs, sliding my palms over his skin. Then I kneaded his glutes, moving my way inward. I felt him shift beneath me. If I reached under him, I’d feel his hard dick in my hand. Then I gave him several quick smacks on the ass.

“You want to stay in a zone from the top of his buttocks to the tops of his thighs. Any higher and you risk injury. This is true of any type of impact play.” He arched again as I spanked him a little harder, intensifying it with each swat.

“See how the skin is starting to turn pink? That’s what we want.” I continued a slow, steady rhythm, first one side and then the other.

David spread his legs a bit wider, and I stopped. He made a small sound, which I ignored. I moved over to the chair.

“Up.”

He scrambled off the floor and over my knees in fluid, graceful movements. Especially for someone with a boner the side of Cape Cod.

“I like this position because it’s one of humiliation. He feels it in his balls,” I said, giving them a gentle squeeze. That’s one thing my boy didn’t like, pain in the scrotum area, so that was a no-go for us.

I opened his ass to the crowd that would have rivaled any Thanksgiving spread.

Then I started spanking in earnest. Harder, faster blows, barely giving him time to breathe between them. His ass and his face got more and more red as time passed in a haze of pain and pleasure. His dick rubbed against my leg, and I did nothing to stop his little indiscretion. I’d deal with it when we got home.

The rubbing became more insistent the harder I spanked him. I liked that, but what got my dick hard were those fucking little mewling sounds that he never could control. He made them when I spanked him just like he made them when we fucked. It drove me batshit. I’d better never find out he did that on purpose, or he wouldn’t sit down for a long while.

“See how his skin is red now? I want to stop at a point where he’ll feel it for a while, but not to the point of damaging his skin. Others will go farther, leaving welts or bruises, but that’s the level where we leave it.” I rubbed his ass lightly and then told him to kneel. I grabbed the water bottle off the table and told him to finish it. He did so quietly.

“There’s no test, no perfect way to spank someone. Make sure you communicate with your partner to see where they are during the session, no matter what the activity.”

We’d come to the end of the demonstration. I never took questions at the end because after impact play with David, I had the responsibility, and really the privilege, of caring for his emotional state as he wound back down.

“I’ll be back in about twenty minutes at the bar, if anyone has questions.” People began to get to their feet and wander into groups, talking.

“Please, Sir,” David whispered from his position at my feet.

I chuckled at him.

“Such a presumptuous boy you are,” I said. “Wait for me in the bathroom. I have to let the boy with the mouth out of the corner.”

He scampered off and again, I loved the view.

The boy stood in the corner, exactly where he’d been placed. I let my boots clunk against the floor as I made my way across the room. The shiver down his back was unmistakable.

“You ready to behave now, brat?” I asked him and grabbed a fistful of his short blond hair. He had just enough to get ahold of. Then I jerked his head back, and he looked up the rest of the six inches’ difference in our heights. When I glanced down, I noticed the bulge in the front of his shorts.

“Yes, Sir,” he murmured, and I saw that he wanted to say something else but held himself in check.

“What?”

“Unless you want to spank me, Sir. Then I’ll be as bratty as you want.” The little shit had the audacity to bat his eyes at me.

“I have a better idea,” I said, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. After I made a show of unlocking the screen and looking through my contacts, I sent a text to Nick, the boy’s Dom.

“Sir?”

“I just told Nick that he might want to ask you about your night,” I said and smirked, knowing the boy would have to make a full disclosure when he got home.

“Yes, Sir,” he said sullenly.

“Go, play,” I told him, turned on a heel, and strode over to the bathroom door. David waited on the other side of the unlocked door. I closed and locked it behind me before I grabbed the back of his hair and pulled him in for a long kiss.

“You were perfection tonight,” I murmured against his lips.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said before I covered his mouth again. His little mewling sounds made me hard, but kissing him, that gave me an ache deep in my core.

“Are you ready for me, boy? All clean and lubed?” I asked, nuzzling his neck with not-so-gentle bites.

“Ah, yes, Sir. Yes,” he said, pushing his dick into my leg again.

“Over the sink,” I said, pushing him toward the tap. He put his forearms flat along the edges of the porcelain freestanding sink, and I moved in behind him. We could see each other in the flat mirror, and I winked at him in the glass. My pants were around my knees before he could wink back.

“Yeah,” he moaned, low and hard, as I slid my cock into him. I held the motion slow and steady at first and then pulled back and punched my hips forward. He braced against the sink and threw his hips back to meet my thrust.

“Being spread open for that crowd got you hard, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It felt like they could look right through me.”

“You want me to be fucking you on that stage right now, don’t you?”

“God, yeah.” He spread his legs a little wider, maybe to stabilize his stance, maybe just in offering.

“Look in the mirror,” I said and smiled as his gaze found mine. Then I reached around his hips and took his dick in my hand. I stroked it slowly, maddeningly slow in contrast with fast, hard thrusts into his ass. He had trouble keeping his eyes open, especially when I twisted my fist around the head, using the bit dribbling out of the tip for lube.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“That’s the idea,” I said with a breathless chuckle. The lower part of my body, from my thighs to the pit of my stomach, ached with the anticipation of unloading into his ass. The slow, delicious build made the feeling so much sharper.

“Please,” he whispered.

“In my hand,” I growled in his ear and fucked him harder, driving myself to the edge.

Those fucking mewling sounds.

I felt the wetness between my fingers just before I came, a harsh desperate thing, while buried balls-deep in his ass. He grunted as I filled him. Such a good little pig.

As I finished, I leaned forward and rested my sweaty forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you, Sir,”

“No, no… spank you, and good night.”