Maintenance 43/53
Go back to Maintenance 42 or start from the beginning.
MAINTENANCE 43
BRIAN’S POV
On Thursday at a little before three p.m., you leave work confident that your presentation has gone well. Justin is surprised to hear you coming up the stairs and has a paintbrush in his hand and a quizzical look on his face, “What are you doing home? Everything go okay?”
“Went great.”
“Yay! I’d hug you, but I’m kind of grimey.”
“Get changed. We have plans.”
“Huh?”
You walk into your bedroom, shedding your tie in the process, “We’re going shopping. Change your shirt.”
*********
The high end furniture store you take Justin is located in an unremarkable store front in Morgantown, WV, and the brass bell on the glass door clangs loudly when you enter. An older man approaches you with a younger one right behind him who steps in front for the introductions, “Dad, this is Mr. Kinney. He owns several businesses in Pittsburgh.” The older man shakes your hand, “My son says you’re looking for a new bedroom set.”
“We are,” you say with a smile. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your furniture.”
“Why, thank you. My son, Rick, says he knows you, so I’ll just leave you in his capable hands.”
“Thank you,” you say, “Rick, show us what you’ve got.”
“Well, everything in the quality and price range you mentioned on the phone is up on the second floor. The stairs are this way.”
*********
You hold Justin’s hand as you walk up the stairs, and he asks, “How do you two know each other?”
Rick winks, “We need to get out of earshot first.” Once the three of you are officially in the showroom, Rick turns to Justin, “Brian helped me out one night Babylon about a year ago.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Justin asks.
“No,” you assure him, “I was working there one night in my office and I saw Rick on our security cameras looking very out of place and terrified on the dance floor.”
“I’m not ‘out,’” Rick whispers.
You continued, “I thought it was a pop health inspection or something because of how he was dressed, so I ran down the stairs and introduced myself.”
Rick laughs, “It’s funny now, but it was my first time in a gay club, and I was mortified. I didn’t fit in at all. Brian rescued me. Once he realized I wasn’t an inspector, he took me up to his office and gave me the names of some other places to go that would be more my speed.”
“That was nice of you, Brian,” Justin says, hanging on your arm. “He sort of rescued me too many years ago, but it didn’t go quite like that.”
“Yes, that’s true. I attempted to enroll Justin in my ‘catch-and-release’ program, but the ‘releasing’ part never quite took.”
“Which subsequently led to the termination of that program,” Justin says with prideful smile. You roll your eyes.
Rick clapped his hands together, “Well, all of the bedroom sets in your requested price range are up here. We are a third generation family business and our furniture is one hundred percent handmade by about fifteen carpenters, most of whom have been with us for ten years or more. Almost any design you see can be made in the wood and finish of your choice, so, please, take your time, look around, and just ring this bell when you’re ready or if you have questions.” He points to a doorbell button on the wall. “It rings downstairs in the office. I’ll come right up. I need to help my father with some paperwork. He’s getting a little too old to handle the books by himself.”
“We’ll be fine,” you say. “We have a lot of decisions to make.”
Rick smiles and leaves the two of you to shop.
“Was that story really true?” Justin asks after Rick is gone.
You nod, “The last thing you ever want at a nightclub is a health inspection when the backroom is packed. I tore down those stairs that night. Guys like him don’t typically just wander into Babylon. But enough about that, let’s pick out furniture.”
*********
The showroom is massive, and there’s at least a dozen different styles to choose from, and Justin stops at the second one and points out, “Okay, this one is cool. It has drawers under the bed like we used to have at the loft. And I like a darker finish like a walnut or even ebony.”
“I agree. But I want a high bed. I’m not buying any more beds that are low to ground. I’m too old for that shit.”
The two of you continue to wander and eventually split up; Justin browses faster than you do. You find a set toward the back of the showroom that you really like. The bed is a nice height, there’s storage underneath and sturdy bed posts. You call Justin over; his hands are full of tear sheets. “I grabbed one of these for all the ones I like,” he shows you, laying them out on the mattress. You push them aside back into a pile as you sit down on the bed. “Come here,” you say patting the mattress, “I want you to pull your jeans down and bend over.”
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”
“I’m serious. And that’s one.”
“One what?” he asks, his eye narrowing.
“Jeans down, bend over, please. That’s two.” You reach into your leather jacket and remove his diamond collar, dangling it in front of his face. “Do you need this?”
His demeanor changes, his eyes scan the showroom at least twice before responding, “No, I don’t need that.”
“Seems like you do. Do I need to ask you again? And that’s three.”
Again, his eyes scan the showroom and then come back to your face where your blank expression hasn’t changed. He starts to fiddle with the button on his jeans. “Are you really serious?” he asks.
“Yes, and that’s four.”
“Brian.”
“Five.”
“Is this because I made that joke about your ‘catch-and-release’ thing? I was kidding.”
“No. Six.” He’s close enough to you now that you can easily snap his collar around his neck without even getting off the bed.
“Someone could hear us.”
“Seven.”
Justin’s visibly stressed when he finally unzips his jeans and bends over the bed right beside where you’re sitting. He pushes the denim right below his ass.
“Seven is way too many,” you tell him. “Way too many.”
He speaks softly, “Are we actually here to buy furniture?”
“Absolutely. We’re buying this set after we give it a test run.” You scoot closer to him and run your hand over his ass, letting your fingers slip inside the elastic of his underwear. You watch his face closely when your fingertip is stroking his perineum; he wants to break eye contact with you, but he doesn’t. “Pull your underwear down for me,” you tell him, and he obeys, quickly tucking the tail of his shirt between the mattress and his cock. You can see the wet spot on his briefs. “Arch your back and present your bottom for me,” you order. He has to get up on his tiptoes due to the height of the bed.
The spanking he gets is as loud and as long as one he gets at home. He can hardly hold still, and when you’re finished, his cheeks are a deep pink color. You make him stand up when it’s over, and don’t let him lean on you while you redress him, his collar staying on. You pull a tear sheet for that particular set and walk him back up to the front, your hand firm on the small of his back. You ring the bell and hear Rick coming back up the stairs.
“I’d like this delivered in ebony by five p.m. tomorrow,” you tell him, “Is that possible?”
“Sure. It’s in stock.”
“Great. Justin will be there to accept the delivery. Here’s my Amex card.”
You lead Justin down the stairs, and he just smiles uncomfortably while everything is bought and paid for. You say your goodbyes and take him back to the car.
*********
You open his car door for him and when he goes to close it, he can’t because you’re squatting right there in the way. “I want your pants down for the ride home,” you inform him. He looks away and stares out the front window like there’s a gaggle of baby geese walking by or something. “I’m serious, Justin. I want to enjoy my handiwork. Pull everything down and lay on your side. And that’s eight.”
Without looking at you, he unbuttons and pulls his jeans and underwear down, and you assist him in turning in your direction because, “I can’t see your ass the other way.” You lean the seat back, buckle him in, and then ask him to, "Look at me, please."
His blue eyes shift up and don't change expression when you kiss him. You note, though, that he participates, lets your tongue in his mouth. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you," you lie while playing with the hem of his shirt to get to his dick. It's almost paying more attention to you than he is. You stroke him, one hand on his cock and the other on his forehead, your thumb passing over his temple. He moans and touches your hand, squeezing it on the down stroke. "You're so beautiful when you're not allowed to come," you whisper softly.
Once you’re behind the wheel, you blast the heat for him and eventually discard your leather jacket in the backseat. His bottom is still a little pink, and when you don’t need two hands on the wheel, you’re touching him, rubbing him, praising him for obeying you.
“I don’t like this,” he finally says almost under his breath. “Everyone who’s beside us can see me.”
“You don’t need to worry about them. You’re pleasing me. That’s all that matters.”
He’s quiet and curled up the rest of the ride home and when you get off the highway and onto the back roads, you see him sneak his hand between his legs.
Maintenance 44
MAINTENANCE 43
BRIAN’S POV
On Thursday at a little before three p.m., you leave work confident that your presentation has gone well. Justin is surprised to hear you coming up the stairs and has a paintbrush in his hand and a quizzical look on his face, “What are you doing home? Everything go okay?”
“Went great.”
“Yay! I’d hug you, but I’m kind of grimey.”
“Get changed. We have plans.”
“Huh?”
You walk into your bedroom, shedding your tie in the process, “We’re going shopping. Change your shirt.”
*********
The high end furniture store you take Justin is located in an unremarkable store front in Morgantown, WV, and the brass bell on the glass door clangs loudly when you enter. An older man approaches you with a younger one right behind him who steps in front for the introductions, “Dad, this is Mr. Kinney. He owns several businesses in Pittsburgh.” The older man shakes your hand, “My son says you’re looking for a new bedroom set.”
“We are,” you say with a smile. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your furniture.”
“Why, thank you. My son, Rick, says he knows you, so I’ll just leave you in his capable hands.”
“Thank you,” you say, “Rick, show us what you’ve got.”
“Well, everything in the quality and price range you mentioned on the phone is up on the second floor. The stairs are this way.”
*********
You hold Justin’s hand as you walk up the stairs, and he asks, “How do you two know each other?”
Rick winks, “We need to get out of earshot first.” Once the three of you are officially in the showroom, Rick turns to Justin, “Brian helped me out one night Babylon about a year ago.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Justin asks.
“No,” you assure him, “I was working there one night in my office and I saw Rick on our security cameras looking very out of place and terrified on the dance floor.”
“I’m not ‘out,’” Rick whispers.
You continued, “I thought it was a pop health inspection or something because of how he was dressed, so I ran down the stairs and introduced myself.”
Rick laughs, “It’s funny now, but it was my first time in a gay club, and I was mortified. I didn’t fit in at all. Brian rescued me. Once he realized I wasn’t an inspector, he took me up to his office and gave me the names of some other places to go that would be more my speed.”
“That was nice of you, Brian,” Justin says, hanging on your arm. “He sort of rescued me too many years ago, but it didn’t go quite like that.”
“Yes, that’s true. I attempted to enroll Justin in my ‘catch-and-release’ program, but the ‘releasing’ part never quite took.”
“Which subsequently led to the termination of that program,” Justin says with prideful smile. You roll your eyes.
Rick clapped his hands together, “Well, all of the bedroom sets in your requested price range are up here. We are a third generation family business and our furniture is one hundred percent handmade by about fifteen carpenters, most of whom have been with us for ten years or more. Almost any design you see can be made in the wood and finish of your choice, so, please, take your time, look around, and just ring this bell when you’re ready or if you have questions.” He points to a doorbell button on the wall. “It rings downstairs in the office. I’ll come right up. I need to help my father with some paperwork. He’s getting a little too old to handle the books by himself.”
“We’ll be fine,” you say. “We have a lot of decisions to make.”
Rick smiles and leaves the two of you to shop.
“Was that story really true?” Justin asks after Rick is gone.
You nod, “The last thing you ever want at a nightclub is a health inspection when the backroom is packed. I tore down those stairs that night. Guys like him don’t typically just wander into Babylon. But enough about that, let’s pick out furniture.”
*********
The showroom is massive, and there’s at least a dozen different styles to choose from, and Justin stops at the second one and points out, “Okay, this one is cool. It has drawers under the bed like we used to have at the loft. And I like a darker finish like a walnut or even ebony.”
“I agree. But I want a high bed. I’m not buying any more beds that are low to ground. I’m too old for that shit.”
The two of you continue to wander and eventually split up; Justin browses faster than you do. You find a set toward the back of the showroom that you really like. The bed is a nice height, there’s storage underneath and sturdy bed posts. You call Justin over; his hands are full of tear sheets. “I grabbed one of these for all the ones I like,” he shows you, laying them out on the mattress. You push them aside back into a pile as you sit down on the bed. “Come here,” you say patting the mattress, “I want you to pull your jeans down and bend over.”
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”
“I’m serious. And that’s one.”
“One what?” he asks, his eye narrowing.
“Jeans down, bend over, please. That’s two.” You reach into your leather jacket and remove his diamond collar, dangling it in front of his face. “Do you need this?”
His demeanor changes, his eyes scan the showroom at least twice before responding, “No, I don’t need that.”
“Seems like you do. Do I need to ask you again? And that’s three.”
Again, his eyes scan the showroom and then come back to your face where your blank expression hasn’t changed. He starts to fiddle with the button on his jeans. “Are you really serious?” he asks.
“Yes, and that’s four.”
“Brian.”
“Five.”
“Is this because I made that joke about your ‘catch-and-release’ thing? I was kidding.”
“No. Six.” He’s close enough to you now that you can easily snap his collar around his neck without even getting off the bed.
“Someone could hear us.”
“Seven.”
Justin’s visibly stressed when he finally unzips his jeans and bends over the bed right beside where you’re sitting. He pushes the denim right below his ass.
“Seven is way too many,” you tell him. “Way too many.”
He speaks softly, “Are we actually here to buy furniture?”
“Absolutely. We’re buying this set after we give it a test run.” You scoot closer to him and run your hand over his ass, letting your fingers slip inside the elastic of his underwear. You watch his face closely when your fingertip is stroking his perineum; he wants to break eye contact with you, but he doesn’t. “Pull your underwear down for me,” you tell him, and he obeys, quickly tucking the tail of his shirt between the mattress and his cock. You can see the wet spot on his briefs. “Arch your back and present your bottom for me,” you order. He has to get up on his tiptoes due to the height of the bed.
The spanking he gets is as loud and as long as one he gets at home. He can hardly hold still, and when you’re finished, his cheeks are a deep pink color. You make him stand up when it’s over, and don’t let him lean on you while you redress him, his collar staying on. You pull a tear sheet for that particular set and walk him back up to the front, your hand firm on the small of his back. You ring the bell and hear Rick coming back up the stairs.
“I’d like this delivered in ebony by five p.m. tomorrow,” you tell him, “Is that possible?”
“Sure. It’s in stock.”
“Great. Justin will be there to accept the delivery. Here’s my Amex card.”
You lead Justin down the stairs, and he just smiles uncomfortably while everything is bought and paid for. You say your goodbyes and take him back to the car.
*********
You open his car door for him and when he goes to close it, he can’t because you’re squatting right there in the way. “I want your pants down for the ride home,” you inform him. He looks away and stares out the front window like there’s a gaggle of baby geese walking by or something. “I’m serious, Justin. I want to enjoy my handiwork. Pull everything down and lay on your side. And that’s eight.”
Without looking at you, he unbuttons and pulls his jeans and underwear down, and you assist him in turning in your direction because, “I can’t see your ass the other way.” You lean the seat back, buckle him in, and then ask him to, "Look at me, please."
His blue eyes shift up and don't change expression when you kiss him. You note, though, that he participates, lets your tongue in his mouth. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you," you lie while playing with the hem of his shirt to get to his dick. It's almost paying more attention to you than he is. You stroke him, one hand on his cock and the other on his forehead, your thumb passing over his temple. He moans and touches your hand, squeezing it on the down stroke. "You're so beautiful when you're not allowed to come," you whisper softly.
Once you’re behind the wheel, you blast the heat for him and eventually discard your leather jacket in the backseat. His bottom is still a little pink, and when you don’t need two hands on the wheel, you’re touching him, rubbing him, praising him for obeying you.
“I don’t like this,” he finally says almost under his breath. “Everyone who’s beside us can see me.”
“You don’t need to worry about them. You’re pleasing me. That’s all that matters.”
He’s quiet and curled up the rest of the ride home and when you get off the highway and onto the back roads, you see him sneak his hand between his legs.
Maintenance 44