The Disciplinarian Ch. 03

"Faster! Faster! [pant] UNNNHUN Spank me! GGGUUN, Yes! [gasp] Spank me, Mr. Daniels! [pant] MMMMMUM Smack my ass! [pant] UNGGG, [gasp] MUH, NUH Smack it! [pant] UMMUH Harder! [pant] NUHHHH Spank my little boy butt! [pant] [pant] OOOOOO Spank it! Spank it! Spank it! [gasp] [pant]

Hearing the phrase "boy butt" again brought more laughter from my two friends.

The side-to-side rubbing of my right hand and the in-and-out pumping of my left were a blur. Finally, my climax crashed over me. No longer in control of my body, I straightened at the waist and my head and upper body came up as if on their own accord. I rose up on my knees and my hips began jerking rhythmically forward and back as if I was humping an invisible man seated on the sofa. Even in my delirium I could hear that my humping brought new chortles to Angie and Jennie.

Finally, with a last long moan of pleasure, I collapsed to the seat of the sofa, falling to my side, panting with exhaustion.

"Wow," I heard Angie say, "I've never had one like that!"

Aftermath

It was several seconds before I could catch my breath enough to ask permission to rub my bottom. He gave it and I lay there for a long minute panting and rubbing.

"Well," said Mr. Daniels, "it has been another good session. I'm pleased that, again, all three of you saw it through to the end. Now, stay naked until I'm out the door and I'll see myself out."

"And, of course," he added, turning to directly at me where I stood by the sofa, one arm covering my chest and the opposite hand covering my pubis, "you know how to get a hold of me. Bye, now."

With that, he was gone and we threw our clothes back on. Angie refused Jennie's offer that she and I help wash out the wine glasses, so we said our 'goodbyes' too.

As we neared our place, Jennie asked me to look in the back seat to see if her gym bag was there. When it I reported that it was, she had me open it and verify that her handballs were in it. They were.

"In that case," she said, "I'm just going to drop you at home and go straight to my boyfriend's place."

"So why do you need the handballs?" I asked.

"If he's not home, I'll go play a handball game at my athletic club."

I wondered why she didn't just call him first to see if he was home, but it didn't seem important enough to ask.

As I was getting out of the car, she couldn't resist saying, "I probably won't be home tonight, and besides," she added with a smirk, "I know you probably want to be alone."

I flushed red, but what could I say? Now they both knew I played with myself several times a week. Still, I resented her rubbing it in and I made up my mind that I was not going to masturbate that night.

My resolution didn't last more than a couple of hours. Try as I might to lose myself in a mystery novel and then a TV show, I could not get my mind off the night's session with Mr. Daniels. Soon enough I was naked on my bed pretending it was me who had undergone the trials that Angie and Jennie had actually suffered. In my revised version, Angie and Jennie were, again, just an audience. It was I who had to kneel on the sofa, invite them to spank me, and thank them for every smack. It was I who had to carry the paddle back and forth across the room between them, and then bend at each end of the journey to request that one or the other of them give me a swat. Then I got a cucumber from the refrigerator and relived my own ordeal from the previous session.

When I was finally sated after several climaxes, I lay exhausted on the bed and thought about Mr. Daniels. I realized that at the end of the last two sessions, just before he left, he looked at me and said something like "You know how to get a hold of me." He probably meant that I knew how to contact him, but maybe, just maybe, I thought, that sentence has a double meaning.