Past-Part Fills Part 6 [Closed]

Feb 27, 2011 12:30



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Sidecar [3b/3] anonymous November 3 2011, 13:31:35 UTC
It had only taken Arthur a moment to switch the position of the spoon, and he next smack had come in the form of holding the spoon portion in his palm, letting the long handle create a welt on that already sore bottom instead, and oh, that little cry was worth it! Alfred had been wiggling a bit and breathing heavily, but nothing was as good as that cry. 'How do I know my punishment's working if you don't make a sound?', Arthur used to say. He didn't stop at that, however, not when he finally got what he wanted! Those sharper, more painful strikes came swiftly and without mercy. He wasn't going to stop until he got more cries of pain, each stripe coloring those already sore cheeks.

The cries were not slow in coming. "Ah! Ow! Nngh!" It was as if Alfred couldn't hold back anymore once he'd started to acknowledge the pain he was in. The noises were quiet at first, but as his ass became littered with deep red stripes across the already-darkened flesh, they grew louder. Just when Alfred thought the sting couldn't intensify, another strike would land and reignite it all. "Nnh, hnng..."

On any other day, those sounds would have quite excited Arthur. But Alfred was being punished this time, and Arthur hadn't any intention of getting sexual with his former colony. Though the sight of that red-hot bottom and the heat from it, the texture of the welts from the handle, they were very fine to look at indeed. Like a work of art, and in a way he supposed it was. Eventually the squirming slowed, and the American was reduced to petulant whines and heavy breaths.

When Arthur did get those short, pained cries and eventual whines and whimpers, he finally stilled those swats. Setting the spoon aside, his hand mercifully came to rub at that abused backside, causing a bit more pain before it would start to soothe. "There now... was that so hard, you insolent little drunk?"

Alfred let his body relax across the other's knees, grateful for the hand that still came up to rub his sore bottom even at his age. A small (or perhaps even a large) part of him wanted to retort that yes, it was so hard after all, but the urge was easily quelled by focusing on his throbbing ass. "Hnn... no, sir."

Ah, the use of the word sir excited Arthur even further. He didn't know if it had been intentional at all or if Alfred had slipped into a subspace because of the familiar and long-ago used position. Arthur did have a guilty pleasure in being the only one that Alfred would submit to like that without a fight. Despite all of his bluster and his sometimes infuriating confidence, Alfred was a good boy with a good heart, and in many ways Arthur couldn’t help but find this thought endearing as he continued to rub that sore bottom.

Unfortunately for Alfred, he was starting to notice feel the way Arthur's hand was rubbing away the sting in a slightly different light; as drunk as he was, it was starting to give his body ideas. Trying to be subtle about it, though in reality he was much less successful at this than he imagined himself to be-eeven sober he had trouble with subtlety-his body rocked gently back into the touch with a soft noise.

Arthur was perplexed at first-just what was Alfred doing? The spanking itself was over, and it shouldn't hurt that badly to have it rubbed, so why was he squirming now? ...Oh. Arthur couldn't help but grin, letting his fingers roam down between those thighs a little, but really nowhere near anything vital. "Something you want to ask for, Alfred?"

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