He whimpered as scorching flames seeped deeper into the thick layers of muscle. Somehow, they wove their way through his body until they reached his cock.
His shaft was so hard it throbbed in time with each beat of Scott’s heart. Trapped beneath him, Scott’s erection rubbed alongside Joe’s thigh each time Scott swayed from the force of a spank, but that bit of friction offered no hope of anything other than increased frustration.
There was no chance of relief unless Joe decided to grant it—even if Scott was dizzy with pleasure, he still knew that.
Scott gasped as Joe brought his hand down upon the sensitive flesh where the top of his thigh met his buttock. Scott’s fingers slid away from him as his toes lost their tenuous purchase on the wooden floor. All of Scott’s weight came to rest on Joe’s lap. The air rushed out of Scott’s lungs, but Joe didn’t even lose his rhythm.
Joe kept on going as if he hadn’t even noticed a change. It was easy for Scott to believe that nothing would stop Joe now. Empires could rise and fall. The earth could spin out of orbit and spiral in toward the sun and certain destruction. But Joe would still be there, holding Scott firmly in place so he could keep spanking his bare arse without pause.
Scott whimpered at the idea. As soon as the sound left his mouth, he was powerless to stop other pleasure-filled noises following it. His moans and grunts of bliss filled the silence between the sounds of Joe’s cupped palm connecting heavily with his arse.
The chair legs creaked as they slid several inches across the bare floorboards. It didn’t occur to Scott to try to stop himself toppling off Joe’s lap. It didn’t seem possible that he could fall—that Joe wasn’t in complete control of that as well as everything else in the world.
Scott’s mind was blank. Unable to think about anything that had happened in the past, or anything that might happen in the future, he was trapped in the moment.
Joe was the only man Scott could think about. In his own mind, even Scott himself ceased to matter. Joe was the centre of the universe, everything else was just dust in his orbit.
Nerve endings that had barely whispered through the first twenty-plus years of Scott’s life sung out as if they’d been secretly training for the stage. Sweat broke out across his skin, and still Joe kept bringing his hand down on Scott’s arse.
Pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure. Scott no longer knew the difference—he wasn’t even sure there was a difference.
Then, there was nothing.
For a moment, Scott thought he might have passed out. Panic rushed through him at the possibility that the spanking might be continuing uninterrupted, but his conscious mind simply wasn’t there to enjoy it anymore.
Scott managed to open his eyes. The floorboards were blurry, but they were undeniably there. His eyes were working, and so was every other part of him.
He hadn’t stopped processing the spanking. The spanking had stopped.
No! That was even worse. It couldn’t be allowed to happen.
For the first time since Joe had tightened his hold on him, Scott began to struggle. He must have done something appalling to make Joe stop. That was the only explanation.
Scott had to get up. He had to be able to face Joe so he could work out how to fix everything. It was Scott’s only hope of keeping his sanity.
Joe pressed down even more firmly against the small of his back, refusing to give him permission to rise.
Scott shook his head. Scrabbling at the floor with his fingertips, he kicked out against thin air, desperate for some sort of leverage. The chair legs scraped against the floor again.
“Enough!”
The word kicked down the door and forced its way into Scott’s senses. It grabbed that part of him that so desperately needed to please Joe and shook it by the shoulders. Scott froze. He gasped for breath, still draped face down over Joe’s lap.
“I’m going to help you stand up,” Joe said. “But you’re not going to make any movements I don’t tell you to make. Understand?”
Scott nodded. The room moved around Scott as Joe guided him onto his feet. The room was blurry. Scott’s knees trembled as he risked a glance at Joe’s face.
For some reason, Joe was blurry too.
There was no smudged helmet-visor to blame this time. Scott lifted a hand to his eyes, wondering if being upside down had somehow distorted his sight.
His knuckles came away from his eyes wet. He was crying.
Joe stood up. Before Scott even had a chance to swipe at his face and wipe away any evidence of such mortifying silliness, Joe wrapped his arms around him. Scott parted his lips to apologise, but a surprised yelp replaced any words he might have hoped to utter when he found himself tossed unceremoniously over Joe’s shoulder.
The back of Scott’s thighs burned as Joe gripped the recently abused skin. Each bit of flesh sent frantic signals racing through Scott’s body. Endorphins and adrenaline sprinted through his veins.
His heart raced, his head spun—and Scott was reasonably sure that was only partly due to the fact he was once more upside down.
