Pairing:  Thane/Rob

Author:  Jenny

Implement:  Hand

 

Deliberations

 

Waking in his bed, I stretched my arms above my head and yawned.  Realizing that I was alone, I lay for a moment, listening, until I heard the faint sounds of Thane moving around in the adjoining bathroom.  I didn’t want to leave my warm cocoon but the signals from my full bladder were urging me to get up and soon, so reluctantly I pushed back the covers and padded groggily into the large bathroom.  He was standing at the sink, working a slab of shaving soap into lather with a brush.  After dabbing the thick foam onto his cheeks and chin, he picked up a razor from the counter to swipe it away with a sure hand.  It was rare that you saw a man shave with a straight razor and I had to pause and watch him for a moment.  It was rarer still that you got to watch him doing it while he was naked and that made me pause even longer.  God, he was hot, his wide shoulders and back heavily muscled and those long legs like tree trunks.  Half-hard from needing to pee, my cock stiffened further at the sight.

 

My body finally reminded me why I had come here in the first place and I stumbled over to the toilet.  Come on, come on, I thought impatiently as I tried to concentrate on peeing but I couldn’t distract myself sufficiently.  He was too damn close, even though I was deliberately averting my eyes from him.  His presence alone was enough to keep my thoughts firmly on sex rather than relieving myself.

 

He must have noticed my predicament because he looked over at me and carefully wiped his grinning face with a towel.  “Need some help, boy?” he asked and that deep voice went right through me and impossibly, my cock hardened further.  He stepped behind me and pulled my underwear down to pool at my feet.  Firmly settling my back against his chest, he wrapped his strong arms around me and grasped my erection.  I could feel his own interested cock nestled against my bottom.  This wasn’t helping.  Not one bit. 

 

“Thane,” I protested between helpless laughter.  “I have to pee.”

 

Mmm-hmmm,” he murmured soothingly.  He nuzzled my neck, his freshly shaved cheek smooth against my skin.  Stroking me with one hand, he lightly rolled my balls with the other.  My head lolled back against his shoulder and I forgot everything but his hands on me.  I moaned in pleasure as I placed my own hand over his to guide the speed of his strokes and it wasn’t long before I came with a growl.  I shuddered, weak-kneed and leaned back heavily against him as he reached for a towel to wipe the cum off my belly.  Chuckling, he kissed my neck and then, still with his possessive grip on my now softened cock he aimed it towards the toilet and with the other hand ran his hand over my lower belly.  Realizing what he wanted me to do, I stiffened in protest but he said, “Go ahead, boy.”  And even though I flushed hotly, I obeyed, relaxing and giving into my need.  When I finished emptying my bladder, he nonchalantly shook me off and asked, “Better?”

 

Totally taken back by his casual handling of me, I managed to whisper, “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good,” he said cheerfully, releasing me with a light smack on my bottom.  It was still tender from last night’s punishment and I made a show of wincing.  But far from being sympathetic, he laughed and I grinned sheepishly at him.  “Shower, boy.”

 

I rushed through the shower, hoping to reciprocate his attention in some way.  Hopefully it involved his cock buried in my ass but I was flexible.  Still naked, I entered the bedroom again but stopped short at the sight of him fully dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. 

 

“Sir?’ I said, hesitating at the door.

 

He sat down on the side of the bed and beckoned to me.  As I crossed the room I thought frantically of what I could have done to have displeased him.  He guided me over his lap and while I went willingly, I felt my throat tighten.

 

“Relax,” he crooned, feeling the tension in my body.  “You need to learn to trust me, Rob. You didn’t do anything wrong.  I just have to go to the city for an hour or so and I want you to be thinking of me.”  He was stroking soothing circles over my bare backside while he spoke.  As I settled under his calming touch, his hand traced the cleft of my bottom and I let my legs fall open to give him access, whimpering when he touched my opening with a teasing finger.

 

“I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you when I get home,” he leaned down to rumble softly in my ear.  He picked up a bottle of lube, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers and I squirmed at the cool sensation as he touched me again.  He pressed a knuckle against me, beginning a gentle massage of my tight opening.  My breath escaped as a moan, unable to control the sounds of excitement his touch was bringing.  The sounds became increasingly louder as he pressed a finger in my loosened ass.  I began to move reflexively, grinding myself against his leg but my movements stilled as he removed his finger and I felt the cool hardness of something pushed lightly against me.

 

“Trust me,” he reassured me again and I tried to relax.  Very gently he pressed the toy inside me and I gasped when it was fully seated.  The butt plug was in firm contact with my prostate and already hard, I felt my cock leak a little fluid.  He carefully helped me to my feet, where I stood on shaky legs and looked at him questioningly.

 

“I’ll be back in an hour, maybe a little longer,” he said matter-of-factly.  “Make yourself at home.  Do whatever you want; have breakfast, read the paper or use the computer but Do Not Come.  Understand?”

 

I was already trembling in need and I asked in disbelief, “An hour, sir?”

 

“Or a little longer,” he answered.  He gave me a chaste kiss on my lips and brushed the back of his hand over my hard cock, making me arch towards him.  Moving away, he said cruelly, “Be good.”

 

Good? I thought incredulously.  I didn’t know how I was going to last ten minutes, let alone an hour.  I lay back down on the bed and tried to calm down, grateful that at least I’d already come once that morning.  As I lay there, the scent of Thane on the sheets reached me, making it impossible not to think of him.  Oh God, I mewled in frustration and my hand went to my throbbing cock, intent on putting myself out of my misery.  But I stopped, thinking of how disappointed Thane would be at my disobedience.  And that thought, rather than the idea it might be a punishable offence was what stopped me.  I got out of bed and rummaged through his drawers to find something to cover myself with.  If I couldn’t see it, maybe I wouldn’t think about it.  But each movement made me very aware of the plug in my ass, which triggered images of him fucking me.  I dug frantically through the dresser until I found a pair of sweat pants with a drawstring that might actually fit me.  Thane must shop at Mr. Gargantuan.  I slipped them on; cautiously easing them over my poor cock as warily as someone moved around a land mine, sure that it would explode at the slightest touch.

 

Then I walked very carefully to the kitchen, the borrowed pants tented absurdly at the front.  I sat down at the table to read the paper but groaned aloud, the feeling was even more acute while I was sitting.  So I hobbled to the front room and switched on the T.V. and lay down on my side to watch, flipping through all the channels in a fraught bid to distract myself from my hardness.  I lay there, sweating and waiting for him to return.

 

When I heard the sound of gravel crunching on the driveway, I scrambled off the couch and raced to the door as best I could.  I’m sure I startled him with my wild-eyed appearance when he came into the house but he smiled in understanding at my agitation and opened his arms.  When he kissed me, I returned it with a desperation that I’d never known before.  His strong hands came to rest on my ass, squeezing and kneading my flesh hard. 

 

I pressed up against him to begin rubbing my erection against his groin.  A moment of friction would be all it took to bring myself off.  His hands on my hips stilled my movements.  “Not yet,” he intoned.

 

“Why?” I wailed desperately.  

 

“Stop,” he said calmly and his hand encircled the base of my cock, squeezing firmly through the thick material of the sweats.  “You are not in control here, boy,” he growled.  “You come when I decide.”

 

I managed to stop struggling and I stood simply trembling in his grasp.

 

“Good,” he praised me.  “Very good.”  He loosened his grip on me a little.  Leaning down, his breath hot in my ear as he whispered, “Now, I’m going to fuck you.”

 

I whimpered, the only sound I was capable of at that point.  His hand went to the waistband of my sweats to pull the drawstring.  The loose pants fell on their own accord and my cock, freed from its restraint sprang up to slap against my belly.  Thane cupped my balls, full and aching, in his hand for a moment before leading me to the living room, leaving the sweat pants in a heap on the floor.  I was completely naked and he was still fully dressed and the contrast only added to the imbalance of power between us.  Pressing insistently on my back, he bent me over; positioning me so that the only support I was allowed was my shaking legs and my hands gripping the back of the leather couch.  He opened a drawer on a nearby small table and took out a condom, ripping open the package with his teeth.  I expected that he would undress now but he didn’t.  I watched out of the corner of my eye as he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to mid-thigh, rolling the condom over his erect cock with casual expertise.  He touched the toe of his boot to the inside of my calves, “Wider,” he commanded and I obediently shuffled my legs wider apart.

 

I’d never had sex like this; even my most intense sessions at the Detour were a pale comparison.  His dominance over me was total, restraints and the trappings of play, unnecessary.  It was hot and powerful and raw.  And I loved it.  He took hold of the base of the butt plug and spent a moment manipulating the toy inside me, making me groan and pant.  Playing with me so he could enjoy my uncontrolled reactions.  I wanted to beg him to fuck me but I knew that it wasn’t up to me, to demand or plead for anything.

 

Finally he removed the plug and already lubed and stretched from the toy he entered me with one quick thrust.  His cock was far larger than the butt plug and I cried out at the intense feeling of being filled.  He didn’t stop to let me adjust, just withdrawing a little and thrusting forward again.  I dug my fingers into the couch, trying to brace myself but his hands on my hips pulled me back roughly against him, impaling me further and I hissed and twisted, the burning pain sharp for a moment before fading into pleasure.  Then his strong hands were on my buttocks, forcing them further apart so he could enter me to the hilt and I rose instinctively on my toes to take him deeper.  The steady slap of his groin meeting my ass intermingled with the sounds of my hoarse cries and moans.  Now every thrust was accompanied by a solid smack from his hard palm and I welcomed them, the stinging sensation adding to my building excitement.  “Please,” I choked out and mercifully he took hold of my cock.  “Come now,” he ordered and I felt myself spasm in his hand. 

 

My legs gave way and I dropped to my knees on the floor, Thane helping lower me as I sagged.  He barely missed a beat, continuing his relentless rhythm until he too, came.  I was dizzy with the intensity of the experience and I knelt there for a while, my forehead resting on the floor as I gasped for breath.  I could hear his own struggle to catch his breath.

 

“Up.  Come and shower.”

 

My mind still swirling and my legs still unsteady, Thane had to lead me the bathroom.  Seeing how shaky I was he showered with me, me leaning against his wide chest for support.

 

At his invitation I stayed, returning briefly to my apartment to pick up the necessities for the weekend. I had nothing urgent on my agenda and Thane seemed as eager as I was for us to get to know each other better.  Sometimes I could feel his eyes on me, studying me, like an interesting specimen.  He wasn’t embarrassed when I caught him in his overt observation, although I flushed under his scrutiny, afraid of revealing something that was better kept a secret.  He asked me endless questions that day, probing and dissecting, until I was stripped naked and exposed and this time, I didn’t dare give him anything but the truth. The more vulnerable I became though the more I trusted him, it was a dance of revelation and answering faith.  By the time we played that evening, it felt like I’d known him forever. 

 

Submission to his authority outside of the playroom was a more difficult and tenuous thing.  I was….well I was a man used to getting my own way.  So the first day was spent in a pleasant haze of sex and a rather unnerving orgy of disclosure.  The second day?  Well, the second day was spent in a battle of wills, an admittedly, poorly executed, protracted one-man rebellion on my part.  What other words applied?  Futile, foolish. . .  painful.

 

I’d slept deeply the night before, worn out from the intense play session we’d both thoroughly enjoyed.  Still groggy, I was trying to hurry through a shower and my morning routine without much success.  I saw Thane’s face crease into a definite frown when he came into the bathroom.

 

“I’m almost ready,” I assured him.  We’d planned to go out riding, I was a little nervous, not being the experienced horseman he was but I was determined to try.  It wasn’t the length of time it was taking me to get myself together that was making him unhappy though.  I followed his disapproving glance around the room.  It was liberally draped in wet towels and grooming paraphernalia littered the vanity.  He gestured to the mess and said casually, “You need to pick up after yourself before we leave.” 

 

Now it was my turn to frown.  It wasn’t something that worried me when I was at my own apartment.  That’s what cleaning services were for, for God’s sake and I knew he employed one as well. “Why?  The service will do it.”

 

“That’s not the point, Rob.”

 

I shrugged and turned back to the mirror to continue shaving.  He leaned against the vanity, waiting until I’d finished and then looked pointedly at me.

 

“What?” I asked, running a hand over my jaw.  “Did I miss a spot?” 

 

“I asked you to clean up.”

 

I discreetly rolled my eyes, if he was going to get all huffy about it.  I picked up a towel off the floor and draped it half-heartedly over the towel rack before heading into the bedroom to dress.

 

He followed me; I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled on underwear and jeans and yanked a t-shirt over my head.  Knowing he was watching, I made sure I let him have a good view of my perfectly shaped ass.  I wouldn’t mind postponing our outing if he wanted to ride me instead.

 

“Ready.”  I looked expectantly at him, wondering what his choice would be.

 

“No,” he said softly.  “You’re ready when you’ve obeyed me.”

 

I looked at him in surprise.  Was he really serious about cleaning the freaking bathroom?

 

“Why?” I demanded.

 

“Because you take responsibility for yourself,” he answered.  “And because I expect your obedience.”

 

He ‘was’ serious.  Unbelievable.  I could tell by the determined look in his eye, we wouldn’t be having any fun, of any kind, until I’d made at least a show of obeying.

 

I muttered a curse under my breath and leaned against the wall, meeting his steady look with a glare but surprisingly, he only turned on his heel to leave me fuming to myself.

 

This was such bullshit.  His simple order had stirred an irrational anger in me and I plunked myself down on the closed toilet seat to indulge in a few revenge scenarios.  Mostly of me leaving while he followed me, begging me to stay.  Although the suspicion that the most likely outcome of my disobedience would be a spanking, firmly administered to my perfectly shaped ass, kept coming unbidden into my mind.  I guess I’d spent far too long in my reprisal fantasies because before I had a chance to decide whether to obey; Thane was at the door.  Seeing the untouched bathroom, he cocked his head and fixed me with a quizzical look.  If he’d only looked angry!  I could have managed to sustain my own resentment and hold onto my defiance.  As it was when he held out his hand for me to take, knowing exactly where he would lead me, my eyes stung with tears.  “I….I’m going to do it,” I quavered.

 

“Yes, Rob, you are,” he said implacably

 

When I stood up but didn’t take his outstretched hand, simply shaking my head in silent refusal, he said, “You have a spanking coming for disobedience, Rob.  I can add another for attitude.  Your choice.”

 

Some choice!  I swallowed several times, trying to clear the lump in my throat, before I could speak.  “I’m going home now.”

 

I cringed at the childishness of the empty threat.  And it was empty.  I knew I wasn’t going anywhere and looking at his calm expression, so did he.  He held out his hand again and after a moment I sighed in resignation and put my own trembling one in his.

 

“I think,” I began reasonably; ready to argue the unfairness of the situation, before I faltered.  Who was I kidding?  I’d known exactly what would happen and I’d chosen to ignore that knowledge at my peril.  I took a deep breath, “I think I’m an idiot.”

 

His mouth quirked a little before he answered.  “No, I think you’re a young man whose been indulged a little too much for his own good.”

 

I could have argued that it wasn’t my fault, being the only child of parents that had wanted a horde; I’d always had the upper hand it seemed.   It was obvious who had the upper hand now and it wasn’t me.

 

I trailed him dejectedly to the bed and when he sat down I let him pull me to stand between his thighs.  “May I ask a question, sir?” I asked.

 

“Of course. “  He was still holding onto my hand and he gave it an encouraging squeeze.

 

“Why do you put me over your knee?  I don’t like it.”  I tried hard to keep the whine out of my voice but didn’t accomplish it.  I really did want to know, he could inflict far greater pain with a strap or a cane if I was over the bed or on a cross.

 

“Of course you don’t like it.”  He pulled me closer to place both his large hands on my bottom, stroking them over flesh that was already tingling with apprehension.  His touch magnified that sensation and I squirmed, whimpering with a combination of trepidation and remorse.  “Being over my knee means you aren’t in control, doesn’t it?”

 

It was true, it was very hard to maintain the illusion that I was in charge when I was bare-arsed over his lap at his behest.  “I’m sorry?” I offered without much hope.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

His question made me think.  Why was I sorry?  Because I was going to be spanked?  And I really didn’t want him to spank me; I hadn’t purposefully goaded him into it so we could play.  But that wasn’t the whole of it.  “Because…” I stuttered.  “I’m sorry because I disobeyed you.” 

 

“I expect obedience, Rob,” he said, his voice firm but still kind.

 

I nodded, knowing that.  I stood passively while he unfastened my jeans and pulled them down to my knees.  I found my voice and my defiance again by the time he stripped my underwear down to join them.  “No,” I protested, trying to pull away.

 

He held my arm in one strong hand and brought the other down on my already bare backside.  It wasn’t one smack either; it was a flurry of them, catching my sensitive thighs as well as my bottom.  They were hard too and I got a sense of how truly powerful a man he was.  It only lasted a moment but when his hand stopped falling, he pulled down on my arm, forcing me to my knees.  My hands went instinctively to my stinging bottom to rub and try to protect it from further harm. 

 

“Kneel here and calm down,” he ordered.

 

I was breathing hard, fear and fury mixed together in equal parts.  We stayed in silence for a few minutes until I had settled somewhat.  I raised my head to apologize but he put a finger to my lips in a gesture to be quiet.

 

Kneeling at his feet, I ran my thumb up and down the seam of his jeans, trying to comfort myself.  I wanted to be obedient, to please him, but I seemed to have no control over my contrasting desire to argue and resist.  Finally, he captured my hand and I looked up at him.  He didn’t look angry or even surprised.  I think he had been anticipating my struggle.   I sighed, disappointed with myself, but he smiled gently at me and helped me to my feet.

 

This time I didn’t resist when he settled me across his thighs, pulling me close against his hard stomach.  While being across his lap meant accepting that I wasn’t in charge it also offered a modicum of comfort.  I wasn’t alone.  He was undeniably here with me.

 

It was a simple spanking for disobedience.  Hardly worth the drama I’d inflicted on us both.  While I was definitely hot and sore when he put me on my feet again, I wasn’t in tears.  He stood and drew me into an embrace, saying, “Go and straighten the bathroom and then we can go.”

 

I’d expected what?  I’m not exactly sure.  More sympathy, more fuss, I guess.  He was so matter of fact about it, like a spanking was a natural part of life and I guess now it was.  Not ready to accept that, I pulled away from him objecting, “Screw that.” 

 

I was back over his lap before I could blink.  He didn’t start spanking, just held me in place, his hand on my already burning backside.  “I spanked you, very mildly I might add, for disobedience.  You aren’t going to spend the rest of the day sulking.  I won’t allow it.  You are now going to be spanked for disrespect and then you will clean the bathroom.”

 

Outraged at his calm recitation, I struggled uselessly to right myself, calling him every foul name I knew and I knew plenty.  When my outburst failed to trigger any answering anger in him, it only further enraged me.  I’d already burst into tears, although they were tears of frustration, before he started the spanking.  This time, he spanked harder and longer and since my butt was already sore, it was much more painful.  My outrage soon fled, replaced by regret and a conviction of my own stupidity.  I was pleading when he finally stopped and I lay there hiccupping apologies, all of which I truly meant. 

 

“What’s so hard about this, Rob?” he asked softly as he rubbed comforting lines down my shuddering back.

 

I shook my head; it shouldn’t have been so hard, that was the thing, it was a few minutes of tidying my own clutter.  My emotions were vacillating from willing acceptance to angry defiance without any rhyme or reason.

 

“Think about it,” he urged, still not allowing me to rise.

 

“I’m scared,” I eventually answered.  The spanking had left my defenses in shambles and I finally admitted it to him and myself.  And I was frightened, not of him or of being spanked.  I was scared to obey without at least a show of resistance.  Scared of losing my sense of self.  Giving over control in real life was a very frightening thing; at least it was to me.  It wasn’t play; the dynamic didn’t end when the scene was finished and it was taking me a while to wrap my head around that fact.

 

He didn’t answer, simply pulling me up so he could hold me in his arms.  I buried my face against his shirt and cried, a confused explanation of my fears interspersed with my sobs.   I couldn’t seem to stem the tears and eventually he gave up trying to quiet me and lay back down on the bed and simply held me, letting me get on with it. 

 

When I had at last stopped, he cupped my chin and lifted my wet face to him.  He kissed my forehead before starting to speak.  “You’re not a slave, Rob.  I fully expect you to have your own will but I also expect a certain level of obedience and respect.  I understand how hard that is for you right now.”  When I looked at him doubtfully he smiled and assured me, “I do, Rob.”

 

I sighed in relief, my breath catching.  I’d jumped into the situation without allowing myself to consider the difficulties of true submission and the reality of it had thrown me completely.  Just admitting that it was a struggle was a huge weight off my shoulders.  He didn’t expect perfection, he wasn’t going to give up on me over a minor disobedience but neither was he going to let it go.  Both of those truths, strangely, were equally comforting.

 

“Go and wash your face, Rob,” he ordered quietly and I reluctantly peeled myself off him to obey.

 

Looking in the mirror, I was dismayed by what I saw.  My eyes were red and swollen, my face, tear-streaked and blotchy.  My vanity wounded, I hurried to wash away what evidence I could.  When I looked up I saw him watching me from the doorway.  I flushed a bit, as if he could read my thoughts and know my conceit but he didn’t seem concerned about my appearance at all.  He simply looked meaningfully at the mess I’d left.  Sighing, I began to straighten the room.  This time he stayed, watching and when I’d finished I looked hopefully at him.  He nodded and opened his arms.  Relieved, I happily returned his embrace.

 

“Thank you,” he said.  I knew this thanks wasn’t an appreciation for a clean bathroom but as an acknowledgement that I’d managed to obey even though it had been difficult.  His hands rested lightly on my sore backside and I felt the tears well up again, ashamed of how I’d behaved.  Hearing me sniff, he said softly, “Enough, Rob.  Let it go.”

 

I nodded, wanting to obey this edict. 

 

“It’ll get easier, I promise.”

 

The doorbell rang, startling us both, and he released me with a last kiss.  “I’ll be right back,” he said.  I waited several minutes and when he didn’t return, my curiosity got the better of me and I went to look for him.

 

The End