Jay and Steve
Ara 12, 2023 // By:analsex // No Comment
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Steve was in trouble. He knew this. He had known this before he was sent to sit in the corner, and before he was pushed over to the foot of the bed, beside one of the floor-to-ceiling posts that made the bed such a useful place for situations like this one. He had known he was in trouble, in fact, long before Jay had tied his wrists together around the bedpost and then proceeded to use the rest of the twenty-five foot piece of hemp to wrap his forearms completely together, forcing him to stand extremely close to the bed and hug the wooden column.
Of course, knowing he was in trouble and knowing he would be punished were two entirely different things. Usually when Jay was mad, he would yell, point, get red in the face, and then offer Steve a gruff hug and some rough lovemaking; usually causing a little trouble was fun. But this time…
Steve had had a really tough day at work. He’d come home in a foul mood and ignored the dinner and Jay had laid out for them to share, tossing his coat over a chair and flicking on the TV. Jay had asked him how his day was, and he had snapped out something perfunctory without really paying attention.
Jay had moved to stand in front of the television. This, this was when Steve knew he was in trouble. Jay’s face flushed red, and though he didn’t yell Steve had been able to tell he wanted to.
“Steven,” he had said flatly, “turn the TV off.”
Steve’s focus was immediately off the television. Jay never called him Steven.
“Now!” Jay growled.
The TV was suddenly off – Steve must have done it, but didn’t remember doing it – and Jay was pulling him off the couch by his upper arm, marching him past the dining room table and to the bottom of the stairs, saying, “Go to our room. Sit in the corner by the chest and don’t move. I’ll be up shortly.”
Steve had walked numbly up the stairs, vaguely terrified, and sat himself down on the short wooden stool in the corner, next to the toy chest. Jay had taken his time putting away the food that had been left on the table, loading the dishwasher – Steve could hear the rattle of plates going in – and washing his hands before following Steve up the stairs.
Jay had paused in the doorway, glaring at Steve.
“Steven. I know your days at work are hard, and I know that you just came home a little frustrated today. I don’t usually say anything when you do, but then you don’t usually snap at me and make me feel miserable about your day either.”
“No. I always let you talk your way out of it when I’m mad,” Jay had interrupted Steve’s attempted apology, “but I need you to know that your anger at work shouldn’t be directed at me, ever.” He had paused and looked intently gaziantep escortlar at Steve, who nodded slowly.
“Steven, I am going to punish you. You haven’t acknowledged the work I put in to trying to make you feel good about your day when you get home, and you’ve been terribly inconsiderate to me by using me as a target for your anger at your co-workers. This is not the first time this has happened,” he had said dramatically, brandishing a finger in Steve’s general direction, “but after tonight I expect that it will be the last!”
“You’re going to punish me?” Steve had asked, incredulous. “What do you even mean?”
“Steven, I’m going to tie you to the bed,” and here Steve had closed his eyes, silently hoping that Jay was just going to play one of their fun little games, “take down your pants, and cane you.”
Steve’s attention was immediately snapped back onto Jay. “What?”
“I’m. Going. To. Cane. You. That little stick we bought in Toronto, remember? I’m going to show you why we brought it home, and you’re going to learn not to bring your worries home with you. Now up, mister!”
Jay had grabbed him by the arm again and started undoing the buttons on his light blue shirt. Numb, Steve had simply stood stock-still while Jay worked his shirt open and his tie off, though he had helped Jay with the buttons on his sleeves when he started tugging the shirt down off his shoulders. Jay had then led him over to the bed and started wrapping his arms in rope.
“Jay, are you serious?” Steve asked, shifting his shoulders a little. The way his arms were tied together forced him to stand really close to the bed and keep his forearms upright to be comfortable, but even that position stretched his back a bit.
“Does it look like I’m kidding right now?” came Jay’s retort as he unlocked the toy chest – a three-foot-long oak box with an antiqued padlock – and reached inside to lift out a thin wand of bamboo almost as long as the chest, which he then tossed lightly onto the bed, where it lay on the purple-and-gold comforter. Steve stared wide-eyed at it, thinking that it seemed almost to give off a palpable sense of menace, as Jay stepped close in behind him. Without saying a word, Jay worked Steve’s belt open and pushed his grey-striped pants and boxers to the floor.
Steve stood uncomfortably, his pants hampering his ankles and a cool breeze tickling his ass. His white cotton undershirt, the last piece of clothing afforded to him, stretched across his back and so was lifted just slightly above his hips, leaving his entire pale backside exposed to Jay’s gaze and intentions; his cock, flaccid, brushed lightly and not unpleasantly against the cool wood of the bedpost. Jay pressed himself close in behind Steve as he reached onto the bed for the cane, but while Steve thought he felt the beginnings of a bulge in Jay’s pants he couldn’t be sure – and besides, he was beginning to feel more and more scared and less and less focused.
He heard Jay take a few practice swings with the cane and winced at the sound. It was terrifying, whip-like, and blotted out everything else in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, then felt Jay rest the cane just below the curve of his backside.
The bamboo was surprisingly cool, and he jerked away reflexively. Jay tapped it lightly against his flesh once, twice… and then, seeing Steve take in a deep breath, brought his arm back and quickly forward at the elbow, causing the cane to whoosh through the air and land with a sharp crack at the bottom of Steve’s butt. Steve gasped in pain and shock, briefly seeing white. He lifted himself up onto his toes, tightening his legs and buttocks, trying to escape the sudden, sharp pain.
Jay stood, waiting patiently. After a moment, Steve came back down onto his feet.
“Jesus, Jay, I…” he started; but Jay hushed him quickly.
“This is not your time to talk, Steven. I want you to stand there and take this and think about how you’ve made me feel while I do it. You – we – can talk after.”
Saying that, Jay replaced the cane on Steve’s ass, just above the red line that was starting to show from the first stroke. He lightly rapped the spot a few times, being careful to stay above the fresh welt. “Take another deep breath,” he said, and again as Steve inhaled he laid a harsh blow on his rump, harder than the first; again, Steve gasped and rocked forward but was stymied by the bedpost. Jay waited again until Steve had calmed down, and then prepared another stroke just higher than the second.
Though it had only been a few minutes – perhaps twenty, certainly no more than thirty – Steve felt as though Jay had been torturing him for hours. Jay had worked his ass up and down and up again with the cane, first laying even ribbons of pain across his backside and then re-emphasizing them as he ran out of room for new strokes. Steve had progressed from gasping at each stroke to yelling and then to crying, near-constant sobs wracking his frame, as Jay had increased the intensity of his strokes and decreased the time between them. Steve felt as though his ass were on fire.
The only mitigating circumstance was that every time Jay pummeled his ass, he could feel his cock brush against the smooth wooden bedpost. The light friction coupled with the increasingly rhythmic motion gradually made him hard, and since Jay wasn’t showing any sign of stopping he tried to focus on that sensation rather than on the cane. It didn’t work perfectly, but it did make the experience a little bit more bearable.
Jay noticed Steve rubbing himself on the bedpost, but didn’t let that stop him. His own cock was growing uncomfortably hard in his jeans, the sight of Steve’s reddening ass and the sound of his cries of pain serving as inspiration for him to keep up his pace. Eventually, though, he decided that Steve had had enough. He brought his arm back as far as he could, and landed one final, ferocious blow to the middle of Steve’s buttocks. Steve bellowed a wordless cry of pain and lurched against the heavy bed, slipping down to his knees and breathing heavily. Jay dropped the cane and fell to his knees behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest and nuzzling the short hair at the back of his head.
“I love you Steve,” he whispered, “I love you.”
“God, Jay… God. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I love you,” Jay repeated for a few minutes, until Steve’s breathing deepened a bit. Jay helped him back to his feet and embraced him from behind, pressing his entire body into Steve’s.
Steve felt Jay’s hardness in the line of his ass and pressed himself back against it. Although he gasped against the pain of his tender flesh brushing rough denim, he also felt his cock slide against the bedpost again. It felt hard too, almost as hard as Jay’s, and he felt a moan – or a growl – escape his throat at the sudden urgency he felt.
“Jay, Jay, untie me. I want you, I want you now,” he panted, trying to bend his wrists to reach the knots Jay had bound his arms with.
Jay didn’t say a word. He tightened his left arm around Steve’s waist and ground himself hard against his bruised ass, while at the same time using his right hand to encompass Steve’s shaft with just the right amount of pressure. Steve gasped, moaned, and tried to pull himself away from the pain in his ass, but that just made him slide through Jay’s fingers just so…
Steve came, hard, his cock twitching against Jay’s hand and the still-cool wood of the bed. he felt Jay’s cock pulse, too, even through his jeans, and heard Jay’s sudden stuttering breath; confirmation of their mutual climax.
Later, they lay in bed. Steve was propped on his side, unable to comfortably lie on his back, as they studied the ridges on his arms from the rope. Jay ran a finger down his forearm, then leaned in and placed a single, gentle kiss on his lips.
“Feel better now?” Steve asked.
“Much,” said Jay, “but we may have to do this again when your ass is back to normal. I want to be sure you got the message.”
“I think I may need a reminder once in a while…”
“Well,” said Jay, sinking his head into a pillow, “that can definitely be arranged.”
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