TITLE    : First Timer: The Paddle
STORYID  : first-timer-the-paddle
SUMMARY  : After the hand, it's time for the paddle.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-12-02
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |ass|ass cheeks|buttocks|paddle|spank|urine|piss|balls|cock|first time|


Russ clutched the ping pong paddle's handle. The short wood grip felt good. He flexed his fist around the smooth pine shaft. He laid the blade of the paddle on Gary's red-and-purple ass. Russ' hand had done its usual expert job in transforming a creamy white ass into a pretty display of pink, red, purple, and black and blue patches. Gary's bottom looked much better this way, although, in its own way, it was quite attractive even before the initial spanking, although a bit pale. Russ had done all that he could accomplish with his hand. To further beautify Gary's ass cheeks, he'd need to resort to the paddle he now held in hand. With it, Russ could add a spattering of light bruises. The constellations of contusions would highlight the broader discolorations. They'd look superb in the mirror, should Gary wish to inspect Russ' handiwork, as Russ had no doubt he would. They always did.



Gary had come further along in surrendering himself to Russ' superior will than he probably realized. Just by being here with him today, in this motel room, lying across Russ' lap, naked, with his defenseless ass at Russ' mercy, Gary had reached a point of no return. Even if he never saw Russ again (which was so unlikely as to be unthinkable), Gary would remember the spanking he'd already received and the ones that were yet to come during their first session together. Allowing oneself to be spanked by another man changed a man irreversibly, for it was the first step in surrendering one's autonomy--and one's masculinity. Of course, Gary would return. Once he accepted his role--his nature--as a nobody and a nothing, he'd delight in serving--and servicing--Russ. Like women, most submissive men, once they'd been broken, were eager sluts.



It was easy to break a man, Russ thought. It was much easier than breaking a wild horse. All that one had to do was to give him what he wanted, which was security. Submissive men, Russ had found, more often than not tended to be dependent men. They were anxious about themselves, about others--about everything, really. For whatever reason, they were not equipped to be assertive. They lacked self-confidence and self-esteem, although, outwardly, they might seem to be both secure and content about themselves. They sought from other, aggressive and dominant men, the power and strength and confidence that they themselves lacked. They didn't seem to understand that such characteristics could not be acquired by submitting to spankings, sucking cock, or taking another man's prick up their asses. They believed that by submitting their wills and their bodies to men who were stronger and more virile than they were, they could somehow share in their masters' strength and manliness. These fallacious beliefs were fine with Russ; he wasn't about to disabuse guys like Gary of the errors of their thinking. He was going to enjoy them, as he was enjoying Gary now.



Gripping the handle of the paddle firmly, Russ lifted the instrument high over his head. He trained his eye on the center of Gary's ass, at the middle of the cleavage that separated his firm, but soft, smooth buttocks. His arm flashed down. The paddle's blade struck Gary's ass a tremendous blow, flattening the sleek mounds beneath its impact. Against the muscles of Gary's backside, the paddle made a loud CRACK! that sounded almost like a gunshot. Gary's legs kicked hard, and his chest and shoulders rocked upward. Crying out, he threw a hand behind him, to protect his ass, but the action was pure reflex and had come far too late to spare him the pain that exploded through his buttocks.



"Move your hand," Russ ordered.



Gary rubbed the injured area.



"Now," Russ commanded, "or the next ones will be worse."



Reluctantly, Gary removed his hand, tucking his arm back under his chest.



Russ smiled. Every time Gary obeyed, he was that much closer to total subservience. To reward Gary's obedience, Russ made the next couple of swats much lighter, but they still elicited a cry of startled pain from his victim.



Russ paused, massaging Gary's ass. His buttocks were bright red, with swirls of purple and black and blue blotches. The colors alone kept Russ hard. He was proud of his handiwork. He rarely spoke to someone he spanked during the spanking itself. Lectures came before or after, not during, a spanking session. However, he decided, it wouldn't hurt to ask a simple question. "Are you enjoying your spanking?" he asked.



Gary ignored him.



Russ brought the paddle's blade down savagely upon Gary's upturned buttocks. 



"Ow!"



"Answer me, bitch," Russ ordered.



"Yes," Gary admitted.



Russ smacked his ass with the paddle, and Gary lunged forward, crying out. "For your sake, I hope you answered truthfully," he said, "because there's plenty more to enjoy." He punctuated his words with another swing of the paddle, and Gary yelped.



Once more, Russ paused to admire his handiwork. A nice pattern of light bruises was beginning to emerge upon Gary's battered buttocks. The undersides were decorated with small blotches of bruised flesh, and the skin on either side of the cleavage was adorned with larger contusions. In one or two areas, however, Gary's bottom was becoming too dark with the trapped blood of broken capillaries. It was time to take a break.



Russ gave Gary's rump a light slap with his hand. "Move your ass. I'm getting up."



Gary slid his body to the right, found the floor with his feet, and hoisted himself erect.



Russ rose. "Stay where you are," he commanded Gary. "Don't move."



Russ went into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and, a few seconds later, Gary heard him urinating.



A minute later, Russ returned, carrying the plastic cup he'd removed from the plastic wrap in which it had been packaged. It was one of the several that motels left in motel bathrooms for guests' use.



The cup contained a pale yellow liquid, Gary noticed.



Russ crossed the bedroom and handed the container to Gary. "Drink this," he ordered.



Gary looked at the light amber liquid. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.



"You don't ask questions," Russ told him. "Drink it."



Gary frowned. "It looks like piss," he complained. Gingerly, he sniffed the contents of the cup. His frown deepened. "It smells like piss, too."



"It is piss," Russ admitted, "my piss."



Gary set the cup down on the night table. "I'm not drinking piss," he declared.



"Drink it!" Russ demanded.



"Drink it yourself."



Russ stepped past Gary. He retrieved his implements from the night table, stowing the belts and paddle in the overnight bag he'd used to bring them into the room. Then, he started dressing.



Gary looked concerned. "Where are you going?"



"Home."



"But what about the rest of the spankings?"



Russ had put on his shirt. Now, he picked up his underpants.



"What about the other spankings?" Gary repeated.



Russ paused. "Are you going to drink the piss?"



"No."



Russ shrugged. "Then, I'm going home." He pulled on his underwear and picked up his trousers.



"You said you'd respect my limits," Gary reminded him.



"I am," Russ returned. "You don't want to drink the piss, don't drink it." He tugged on his trousers.



"Piss isn't sanitary," Gary said.



"It's sterile."



Gary looked doubtful. "Is it?"



"Germ free."



Russ could see that Gary was debating the issue of whether he should drink the piss.



In a moment, Russ would know just how submissive Gary was and whether it was worth continuing their association. He was about to buckle his belt when he saw Gary's shoulders slump and heard him sigh. "All right," he acquiesced, "I'll drink it."



"I'm waiting." Russ watched him closely.



Gary picked up the clear plastic container. It was warm. He looked into the cup. The piss was not dark yellow or yellow-orange. It was pale yellow, almost clear, and tiny bubbles floated upon its surface. The urine smelled okay--different, but okay. Kind of spicy.



He lowered the cup from his nose to his lips. Here goes, he thought, screwing up his face as he parted his lips and tipped the cup forward, letting a bit of the yellow liquid dribble past his lower front teeth and onto his tongue.



It wasn't nearly as bad as Gary had supposed it might be. It wasn't foul tasting at all. It was a little bitter, but not much, and rather salty. There were also a variety of unusual, somewhat disturbing tastes that suggested mysterious origins deep within the organs of Russ' body. Gary tried to remember the brief anatomy lessons he'd learned as a high school biology student. Piss was filtered through the kidneys and stored in the bladder, wasn't it? He thought so. There were probably a host of chemicals in urine. Sugars and proteins and vitamins and minerals and hormones. The combination of these ingredients combined to give the piss its unusual flavor and distinct bouquet. Bouquet? Gary wondered why he'd used such a poetic word for the urine's scent. Maybe he found the idea of drinking Russ' piss exciting and, well, poetic. He swallowed the sip he'd taken and drank a second, deeper draught, aware that Russ, watching him, was smiling.



As Gary drank more from the cup, Russ undressed again.



"That wasn't bad," Gary told the man who'd poured his drink. "Actually, it was pretty good."



Russ lifted his semi-erect penis. "There's plenty more on tap," he assured Gary.



"I thought it would be darker."



"Dark urine is a sign of dehydration," Russ instructed him. "If you're drinking the amount of water you should be drinking, your piss should be very pale yellow or clear, like mine."



"I guess I need to drink more water," Gary observed. "My piss is usually dark yellow."



"You're lucky I don't make you drink your own pee," Russ admonished his charge.



There was only another gulp of urine in the cup. Gary raised it to his lips, sipped the strange beverage, and, before swallowing, rinsed his mouth with the golden nectar. Finally, he gulped down the libation. Setting the empty cup on the night table, he looked at Russ. "What's next?"



Russ was pleased with Gary. Although he'd seemed intent upon defying him when it had come to drinking Russ' piss, Gary had acquiesced, which meant that he was a truly submissive guy. That meant that, in time, Russ would be able to fuck him in the ass, despite Gary's insistence that he would never be a party to anal intercourse. Once he'd fucked him, Russ would own him. For now, however, Gary's next spanking awaited. He retrieved the instruments from his overnight bag and set them back on the night table. Picking up the wide belt, he folded the thick leather band into a loop and jerked the ends in opposite directions. The belt made a loud, ominous SNAP!



"Kneel at the side of the bed," Russ ordered Gary. Bend forward, laying your upper body across the mattress."



Gary adopted the position described by Russ.



Russ stepped up behind Gary. He paused, considering the red and purple ass cheeks he'd just decorated with light bruises. He'd used his hand and the paddle. Next, he'd employ the thick, wide belt.



It was time for the welts to begin.

