Fill: In Other Bedrooms 2/3 Charles/Erik, Logan spanking, paddling, daddy kink
anonymous
September 18 2011, 22:55:58 UTC
“I know, baby,” he replies, voice slightly gritty “I hope this helps teach you to be better about following our rules.”
Charles whimpers at the first smack, which leaves a bright red handprint standing out against the slight pink.
Logan watches that bottom squirm through the next strikes, sees the red blossom, hears Charles’s gasps and moans.
Erik isn’t spanking him hard enough to bruise, but Charles is still kicking and his breath hitches a little.
Erik spanks fast, stopping every now again to lecture with a particularly hard smack on the lower curve of the bottom. Charles’s replies to questions about whether he’ll behave better in future are muffled by the quilt he’s buried his head in. Logan wouldn’t allow that and is surprised Erik does. But then again he’s been surprised all evening. He’s seen Charles’s bottom after Erik’s through with him and the boy’s been bruised before.
He quickly finds out how that happens. Charles throws his hands back after a harder spank and Erik stops. “Charles.” Erik waits a beat but Charles’s hands don’t move. “We’ve talked about this. We’re almost done. I’ll give you one more chance to move those hands. If you don’t, I’ll have to give you five with the paddle.”
The hands don’t move. Erik sighs and acknowledges Logan for the first time. “Logan, could you hand me the paddle, please? It’s in the closet, top shelf.”
Logan retrieves it, moving slowly, feeling not quite himself. Their scene has seeped into him, clouding his brain with fog and muffling his usual reactions.
The paddle isn’t a fearsome number with studs or holes, like one he might use on Charles after securing him to a spanking bench. It’s a ping pong paddle he’d bet saw regular use downstairs before being appropriated for bedroom use by the Xavier-Lensherrs.
Before handing it to Erik, he squats down near Charles, stroking his hair. “Oh bub,” he says, offering sympathy because it just seems right, here and now. “he gave you a chance to move your hands. Take it next time and make it easier on us, OK?”
Charles screws his face up, close to tears. Logan kisses his forehead and hands the paddle to Erik, who had been absent-mindedly rubbing circles on Charles’s back.
Logan winces at the first two smacks of the paddle, which flatten Charles’s behind with the force behind them. Erik is completely rigid, looking trapped even as he prepares to deliver another blow.
Charles whimpers at the first smack, which leaves a bright red handprint standing out against the slight pink.
Logan watches that bottom squirm through the next strikes, sees the red blossom, hears Charles’s gasps and moans.
Erik isn’t spanking him hard enough to bruise, but Charles is still kicking and his breath hitches a little.
Erik spanks fast, stopping every now again to lecture with a particularly hard smack on the lower curve of the bottom. Charles’s replies to questions about whether he’ll behave better in future are muffled by the quilt he’s buried his head in. Logan wouldn’t allow that and is surprised Erik does. But then again he’s been surprised all evening. He’s seen Charles’s bottom after Erik’s through with him and the boy’s been bruised before.
He quickly finds out how that happens. Charles throws his hands back after a harder spank and Erik stops. “Charles.” Erik waits a beat but Charles’s hands don’t move.
“We’ve talked about this. We’re almost done. I’ll give you one more chance to move those hands. If you don’t, I’ll have to give you five with the paddle.”
The hands don’t move. Erik sighs and acknowledges Logan for the first time. “Logan, could you hand me the paddle, please? It’s in the closet, top shelf.”
Logan retrieves it, moving slowly, feeling not quite himself. Their scene has seeped into him, clouding his brain with fog and muffling his usual reactions.
The paddle isn’t a fearsome number with studs or holes, like one he might use on Charles after securing him to a spanking bench. It’s a ping pong paddle he’d bet saw regular use downstairs before being appropriated for bedroom use by the Xavier-Lensherrs.
Before handing it to Erik, he squats down near Charles, stroking his hair. “Oh bub,” he says, offering sympathy because it just seems right, here and now. “he gave you a chance to move your hands. Take it next time and make it easier on us, OK?”
Charles screws his face up, close to tears. Logan kisses his forehead and hands the paddle to Erik, who had been absent-mindedly rubbing circles on Charles’s back.
Logan winces at the first two smacks of the paddle, which flatten Charles’s behind with the force behind them. Erik is completely rigid, looking trapped even as he prepares to deliver another blow.
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