“No, I’m not having him here again for Christmas, not after last year. I don’t want an argument about it.” Martin’s face coloured. It did this when he was angry. Diana knew he meant it. It would take a lot to get him to change his mind.
“But he’s my son,” she said. “We can’t exclude him from Christmas.”
Martin paced the room. He was trying to control his temper. The disaster of last Christmas was fresh in his mind. That brat of a step-son was not welcome here. He shook his head, “No, love. No. I think he resents me. He’s never made an effort to get on. Look how rude and surly he was last time. He was so drunk on Boxing Day he insulted Bob and Martha from next door. I could have died from embarrassment.”
Diana took a deep breath. Martin was right. Joey had been outrageous. He stayed in bed on Christmas Day and didn’t come down until dinner was served. Then he was miserable all afternoon, he quite spoiled the day for Martin’s two young children.
“I know Marty, but he’s family. Christmas is about family.” She trailed off. What a rubbish excuse. Yes, Christmas was about family. People getting together for once every year. Of course, there was a reason why they didn’t meet more often – they hated the sight of one another. Most families were a bit like that. Even so, she pressed on, “Where’s he supposed to go instead?”
Martin stopped pacing. He stopped at the cocktail cabinet and grabbed a bottle of gin. “He can stay in his own bed all day,.” He unscrewed the cap. “It’ll save him the train fare getting here.” He gave a short snort of laughter and poured a glass of gin.
“Want one?” he smiled. Diana shook her head. She wasn’t letting him off just yet. He took a gulp of neat gin and grimaced as it hit the spot. “First of the day,” he said for no reason except to break the silence in the room. He knew he was about to be defeated.
He sat in a deep armchair and surveyed the room. Diana stood and watched him. She knew her man. It was only a matter of time. Martin took a cautious sip of the gin. “Well, alright, he can come, but there have to be conditions. He has to be told.”
“Yes dear,” Diana grinned. She had won again.
“I’m serious. A list of rules. Nothing unusual. He can’t lay in bed all day. He can’t be rude to you. And definitely not me. No heavy drinking. He has to play with the boys. He has to be cheerful.”
Diana nodded her head with mock enthusiasm. “Anything else Mein Fuhrer. You make it sound like a prison sentence.”
“Well, it is to me, love. It is to me,” Martin drained his glass. “You have to tell him. He has to know he has got to behave.”
Diana kept her counsel. Joey wasn’t a bad lad, but he could be headstrong at times. When he was in one of his darker moods he didn’t mind what he said or who he upset. It might prove difficult to rein him in over the holidays.
“I mean it, Di, he has to know. You have to tell him.”
Diana sighed. “Alright, I’ll do it. But what if he breaks your rules?”
“Tell him I’ll spank him.”
“Ha!” Diana roared with laughter. She couldn’t stop herself. How absurd!
“I’m serious. Make sure he knows it. I’m not afraid to take him across my knee and batter his backside.”
“Don’t be daft. He’s twenty years old.”
“Well he should have learned to behave by now shouldn’t he.”
“What does that mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you saying I didn’t bring him up right.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake …” Martin paused. Actually, that was exactly what he was saying but he knew better than to tell his new wife that.
“Just tell him will you. I’ll write down the rules, so there’s no mistake. And, he’ll get the thick end of my belt if he causes trouble again this year. I’ll put that in writing as well if you like.”
And he did too. When he printed it out it covered a full side of A4 paper. Fifteen different rules. All to be obeyed. None of them unreasonable. And in the final sentence, printed in red were the words. “Failure to comply with any of these rules will result in a spanking.” There, Martin thought as he read through the final draft, it couldn’t be clearer.
“You’re off your head,” Diana said, not unkindly, when her husband handed her the rules.
“What’s the worry. All he has to do is behave himself. We’ll get through the holiday, he’ll go back to his home and we can get on with our lives.” He nodded at the sheet of paper, “And I won’t have to see him again until next year. What could be simpler?”
“I’ll email him a copy,” Diana said.
“Good. Let him know if he doesn’t like it he’s welcome to stay at his own home for Christmas.”
Joey received the email on his phone while sitting up in his bed. He read it. Twice. He didn’t believe it either time. He turned to his boyfriend Spencer and told him about Martin’s threat. “Spanking!” Spencer chortled, “Oh yes please! Can I come.”
Joey bristled, it wasn’t funny. But Spencer hadn’t finished. “What a wicked step-father you have. It’s just like a fairy story.” He paused long enough to realise Joey hadn’t got the joke. “Well,” he continued, “It is a bit kinky don’t you think?”
Kinky? Joey didn’t know that, but it was madness. The twenty-year-old was in no doubt, Martin – or his mother’s latest husband, as he preferred to call him – was deadly serious.
Spencer pulled the duvet off his naked body and climbed out of bed. He trilled, “Be sure to tell me all about it when you get back. Don’t forget to take a selfie, you naughty little boy.” He smacked his own bottom playfully and sashayed around the room. Joey groaned and read through the list of rules one more time.
“Your step-papa is right. You are a pain in the arse sometimes,” Spencer would not let it go. “You never tidy up. You leave your scuzzy pants on the floor for me to pick up. When did you last wash up a mug?” He sat down on the bed, heart racing, “Yes, what a good idea.” He paused waiting a little breathlessly for his boyfriend’s response. When none came, he rolled over on the mattress and faced Joey. “Spanking.” He let the word hang in the air. Joey’s clean, bright face cracked into a smile when he realised what his boyfriend meant. “Dream on lover boy.”
Spencer nodded with mock solemnity. “Spanking. Yes, the naughty little boy needs his bottom slapped.” He rose so he now knelt beside Joey. Joey, still smiling told him, “You can try.”
It was the hint Spencer needed. He rolled from the mattress and ran around to Joey’s side of the bed. He gripped his wrist and tried to pull him up. “No, no,” Joey shrieked with laughter, “I was joking, I was joking.” He struggled as Spencer demonstrated his superior strength. Within seconds Spencer had Joey to his feet. Then Spencer sat on the end of the bed. He pulled Joey forward across his lap. Now his boyfriend was face-down. In the perfect position to have his bare bottom spanked.
Both boys were naked. In the two months since they first met Spencer had seen his boyfriend naked many times before. His skin was smooth and hairless. There wasn’t enough spare fat on him to sizzle a sausage. His bum was pert and firm.
Slap. Slap. Spencer’s smacks were love taps. Joey didn’t feel a thing. He lay still. Submissive. Spencer had never acted like this before. So manfully. “What a nice, little spankable bottom you have,” Spencer pinched the hard cheeks. He cupped his hands and caressed each globe. His hands were large and Joey’s buttocks quite small. The palm covered about half of one cheek. He tapped Joey’s bottom again. Going through the motions. Pretending to spank him. Not really trying. His hand shook. He had never felt like this before. He didn’t understand it. What was happening to him?
Joey twisted his body so he could look behind him and face Spencer. “Do it properly. Like you mean it,” he said simply. He turned back, face down in the mattress and raised his bottom higher. Spencer’s cock twitched. Sweat soaked the palm of his hand. He rubbed it dry on the bed. He bit his bottom lip with nervousness. He raised his right hand. He paused. Joey’s bum flinched with the tension. Crack! Spencer’s hand walloped Joey’s left buttock with force. The outline of Spencer’s palm appeared in pink across his boyfriend’s creamy-white skin. He slapped again this time on the left cheek.
Joey moaned gently and buried his face in the duvet. Spencer slapped him again. And again. And again. Joey’s bum warmed. Each slap stung his tight arse. It hurt. Joey couldn’t understand. It hurt, but it wasn’t really pain. His bottom tingled. He liked it. The more Spencer spanked him, the more his bum glowed. The tingles mingled and merged, growing into a dull throb.
“More, more,” he groaned softly. Joey was across Spencer’s lap. Both were naked. Their cocks pressed together. Joey’s hard-on raged. That excitement encouraged Spencer in his task. He slapped harder. Not one spot on Joey’s gorgeous bum was unmarked. The imprint of Spencer’s palm and fingers was stamped all over the boy’s cheeks. Spencer turned to the more sensitive thighs. Joey squealed with pleasure. His cock pulsated against Spencer’s. He wriggled and writhed to build momentum. It was like having sex. But then again, Joey knew, not like any sex he had ever had. His head spun. His body tingled with excitement. His bottom and thighs throbbed. Ecstasy!
Martin had a miserable Christmas Eve. His step-son was murder from the moment he arrived. He was more surly, more rude, even than the previous year. Joey had already upset the boys with his bullying, overbearing manner. Martin cornered the boy in the kitchen. “You haven’t forgotten the rules I set have you?” he growled. “What I warned I would do?”
Joey replied calmly, “No. I haven’t forgotten a thing.”
Picture credit: Unknown
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More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website
Also writing school stories as Scholastic here
Charles Hamilton the Second