Daddy's Forbidden Room

Kevin bit his lip and approached a white door at the far end of the house, but unlike all the others, when he pressed on the handle, there was no give. Locked. He glanced back at Sandro.

“What’s this room?”

Sandro put his hand on Kevin’s nape. “This is a part of the house you’re not allowed in.”

Kevin stood there, staring at the white door with his lips parted. “Why, Bluebeard? Hiding all your dead ex-husbands?”

Sandro chuckled. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Kevin groaned and stomped his feet, eager to check if this kind of behavior could win him some points. “But Daddyyy!”

Sandro pulled on his hand and urged him away from the door. “The only thing you’ll get for throwing a tantrum is a spanking.”

Kevin glanced over his shoulder once more, but they were already on their way to the living room bathed in a warm yellow glow of numerous strategically-placed lamps. “About that…” Kevin dropped to the wide sofa next to Sandro. “I’ve never been um… disciplined.” His cheeks were heating up at a rapid pace. “I would like to—I mean, I need to know what you mean when you say it’s not play-spanking. I don’t want to agree to stay only to find out I don’t really like it, or that I can’t take punishment.”

“You won’t like it. That’s the point.” Sandro petted his cheek. “But we can give it a trial run. But because it’s just a demonstration, you will be able to tell me when you need me to stop. In real life, you will be punished as I see fit.” He pressed his thumb to Kevin’s lip. “And then in the ideal world, you won’t need to be punished at all. How does that sound?”

Kevin kissed Sandro’s finger, hypnotized by the warmth in Daddy’s eyes. “Show me what you got,” he said and when Sandro patted his lap, he put himself over it with silly glee in his heart.

“Let’s say I told you to wash the windows, and you told me you had. But then I arrived a day early, and it turned out you lied because you were lazy. Your ass will feel the burn, and you might be sent to bed without dinner.”

Kevin bit his lip and opened his jeans to pull them down. “Sorry, Daddy. I was gonna do it today,” he said, playing along.

The smack to his bare ass left him breathless and wide-eyed. Pain splashed all over his body but still came in waves of aftershock, and he wiggled in Sandro’s lap, on the verge of calling it quits already.

“Doesn’t matter, because you’ve already lied. You will wash them tomorrow, but I need you to remember this punishment next time you consider lying to me.” Sandro’s voice had none of the earlier playfulness. It was steel and such a turn-on Kevin could barely comprehend his own feelings toward the hand now resting on his aching buttocks.

Even though this was a game, Kevin already knew he would never lie to Sandro.

“I’m sparing you the belt this time,” Sandro whispered, and Kevin’s confused arousal skyrocketed when he imagined Sandro languidly pulling the belt out of his pants. “Count for me, Kevin.”

The next smack landed a fraction of a second before Kevin expected it to, and he squealed, clenching his sore ass. “T-two,” he choked out, now unsure how many he could take. He needed to find out before he agreed to spend a year under Sandro’s thumb.

“Good boy,” Sandro purred in that sexy Italian accent and massaged Kevin’s skin, only reminding him of how they’d fucked not long ago.

“I’m sorry, I won’t lie again,” he uttered in hope of reducing his sentence. Despite the situation not being real, his heart pounded like crazy, afraid of yet more pain.

Sandro pulled Kevin’s jeans all the way to his knees before the next slap to Kevin’s ass. This one made him whimper, and he was shocked to sense that his eyes watered from the held-back scream. “Three,” he rasped.

Bent over Sandro’s knees, jeans pulled down, ass up high, and no doubt flushed from the spanking already, he couldn’t help but feel vulnerable even if he could walk away at any moment.

Sandro swatted Kevin’s ass so hard, Kevin bit down on his hand, but tears still spilled from his eyes.

He was trembling all over when he uttered, “four.”

“Is that enough?”

Kevin was so dazed he’d already forgotten that he was in charge and could stop this torment at any time. “Yes!”

Sandro chuckled like an evil headmaster at the plight of his student, but he stroked Kevin’s buttocks with the tenderness of a lover. “Your ass is so red, boy. Like an apple I want to bite into,” he said and swiped his thumb between Kevin’s buttocks, teasing his tender hole.

“It’s so weird though,” Kevin said, still gasping for air and hugging Daddy’s thighs for comfort. “It hurt, but I’m also turned on. I like it when you’re so dominant. Like you know what you’re doing so I don’t have to.”