FIC: First Time (M/M, spanking)

Ben lifted the receiver from the desk and placed the cool plastic to his ear. Listening to the dial tone, he tapped his fingers on his desktop calendar, thinking about just what he would say to his love. The thoughts rolling through his mind were jumbled and he’d rehearsed a ‘speech’ for hours now. He couldn’t simply let this kind of behavior go unnoticed, but he wasn’t sure just what would be accepted.

Gently tapping out the number of 545 Designs, Ben waited for the click, and voice on the other end. It took nearly five rings and the pit in his stomach was nearly reaching the floor, but suddenly the familiar voice filled his ear, and he couldn’t help but smile, “545 Designs, Jeff speaking.”

“Jeff? It’s Ben…” he let the sentence trail off into an almost impenetrable silence. A slightly startled “Oh!” came from the other end of the line and it seemed neither knew what to say. Fiddling with the cord on the (fake) old fashioned telephone, Jeff bit his lower lip, deciding to go for nice.

“How are you hon?” it was a simple question, and one that would normally be met with an elaborate description of his lovers day and at least one story about his overbearing boss and incompetent secretary.

“I’m fine…really. We need to talk, ok? Let’s just meet tonight at Marky’s for dinner, I made a reservation for seven-thirty,” Ben drew the authority into his voice as best he could, and waited, not realizing he was holding his breath.

Thankfully for his lungs, Jeff didn’t take long to answer, “Ok, I’ll meet you there,” with an almost dainty pause he whispered, “I miss you.” Ben nearly lost it and it took all of his carefully trained self discipline to not break down.

“I miss you too, but we’ll see each other tonight. Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” Ben did his best to be reassuring with his tone, but knew they were at a cross roads, and if Jeff didn’t want to go the same direction, it just might mean the end of them.

Hanging up, both men attempted to focus on the rest of their work days, grossly unsuccessfully. At six, Jeff left his design studio and walked the few short blocks to his sisters apartment to shower and change before meeting Ben.

Making a very different stop, Ben took his time at the Abercrombie & Fitch around the corner from his office before driving the short distance to their favorite beachside restaurant, Marky’s.

Allowing himself to be seated at a more secluded table near the back, Jeff looked aimlessly through the menu. Arriving just a few minutes later, the couple was soon face to face. A warm, inviting, and slightly apprehensive hug was shared before the wait staff came and quickly removed the menus, opened a bottle of wine, and set baby spring green salads in front of both men.

Ben had arranged the entire meal ahead of time, and Jeff just smiled, realizing it was to be their favorite meal. Before he could speak, Ben raised his hand, “I don’t want you to say anything just yet. Tell me about your week and enjoy your salad. We have plenty of time to,” Ben paused, looked Jeff directly in the eyes, “discuss things.” Nodding a bit nervously at the new tone in Ben’s voice, Jeff recanted the busy week he’d had.

They were coming out with a new underwear line – for men and women – and the project manager had only recently returned phone calls left days ago. Before the end of the story, the salad plates were removed and more wine poured. Jeff tore apart a roll and waited for Ben to speak. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.

“I know you’re nervous, and I know you’re upset, but I am upset too; and because your thoughtless actions directly effected me, I will speak and you will listen, and then you may reply,” Ben’s mannerisms dictated the no-nonsense atmosphere he was trying to create.

As he spoke, he began playing with his fork, “I have thought a lot, and my concern is not the who, or even much of the why, but rather your feelings. Not all relationships are perfect and not all partners are perfect, but honesty has always been our advantage over others we’ve known, hm?” his voice came up as he paused to take a sip from his glass, but no answer was requested. Jeff nodded and Ben continued, “I’ve already forgiven you as far as I am concerned, and I am sure you’ve had a long week of thought and analysis. That said, while I’ve forgiven you, I am not sure I will be able to look you in the eye and trust you again for a very long time.”

Setting his glass back on the table Ben looked up to witness the effect his words were having on his young partner. As Jeff’s eyes started to glisten, Ben ran a hand through his lightly salt-and-peppered black hair and took a deep breath.

“I don’t want you gone, and I love you very much. More so, I care about you, and your well being, and your thoughts. I won’t trust you right away no matter what, but I need to know if you trust me.”

“Ben, I…of course I trust you. I put you through hell last weekend and…I just don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know what I was thinking but I really just want it to go away…I – ” Ben cut him off, “It’s not going to go away Jeff, but I think I know a way I can make you feel more confident in yourself, gauge your trust in me, and punish you for such selfish behavior.”

“Alright…” Jeff looked unsure, and wanted to continue but the waiter had just arrived with their main course: tossed fettuccini with sautéed shrimp and scallops in a light parmesan garlic butter sauce. As the plates were set down, Ben smiled and raised his glass, watching the waiter leave.

“To us, Jeff. Do you trust me?” Ben brought his glass to the middle of the table and Jeff slowly, but confidently raised his own.

“Yes, with all my heart,” he answered as their glasses rang out in the quiet corner.

Later on that evening, as both men walked down the boardwalk and into town, the sun had set and the stars were out. Gently slipping his hand into Jeff’s, Ben squeezed. In his right hand were their leftovers and the small bag from Abercrombie & Fitch.

Walking into their apartment Ben stopped Jeff after he placed his bag down, “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

“Yes, of course Ben, what’s going on?”

“I want you to go into our room and stand in the corner near the dresser,” his voice lowered.

“What?” his voice was surprised, and quite a bit confused.

“I want you in the corner, and I won’t tell you again. You said you trust me, and I am sure we both agree you need to be punished, and you will be.” With a gentle push and a nod, Jeff went down the hallway and into their large bedroom. Wanting to take his shoes off but unsure if he was allowed, he stood hands clasped in front of him, in the corner.

Coming in a few minutes later, Ben held a thick brown leather belt, brand new with a silver buckle, in his right hand, and a bottle of hand lotion in the other.

“Now, we’ve played a bit with spanking but I think it’s time it was used for its intended purpose. I think you need a good, cleansing, belting to help you feel better, and to settle the tension between us. I want you to put two pillows in the center of the bed, taken down your jeans, and lay over them, with the pillows under your hips,” with Ben’s instructions, Jeff’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped, completely shocked at this outcome. They had indeed played with a little bit of spanking before, but he wasn’t sure he was ok with this.

“Ben I – ”

“If you trust me, I want you over those pillows when I get back. Anymore dawdling and I’ll take your boxers down too!” The authoritative tone in Ben’s voice was unmistakable and he quickly went into the attached bathroom, first setting the belt on the edge of the bed. Slowly, meticulously, he washed his hands and face, taking enough time to allow Jeff to comply with shaky hands.

Re-entering the room he smiled as he saw his love rather awkwardly laying across the pillows, his upper body propped on his elbows. Repositioning the man so his head and chest were on the bed and his hips high, he began to firmly pat and rub the now quaking globes before him. Still in their protective covering, Ben ran one hand up the leg and squeezed the bare flesh beneath. This elicited a small squeal from Jeff, which made Ben smile even more.

Quickly folding the belt, Ben leaned over Jeff and placed a hand on his lower back, realizing how large his hand was in comparison to the other mans body. Pressing down firmly, he rested the folded leather on his target peaks.

“What…how…” Jeff wanted to ask what was going to happen, but he wasn’t having much luck forming words and sentences at this point.

“I am going to strap you until I think you feel better. I won’t stop when you start to cry, yes when,” Ben paused at the slight bristle below him, “and I know it won’t feel great during, but you will feel better.”

Without waiting for a response, Ben brought the strap down with a thump, once, twice…by four he was having to physically hold Jeff down with his other arm. Proud of Jeff for taking such a severe strapping so well so quickly, at ten he eased up a bit.

By the time the twentieth stroke had landed, tears were streaming from Jeff’s eyes and he could fight no more. This is the moment Jeff recognized, fed off of. As soon as he felt the negativity, tension, and fight leave the body below him, he resigned himself to the last few and raised his arm.

“You’re doing very well, but we are not through yet.” This brought more tears and a low groan from the other man but he otherwise remained limp. The belt raised and fell a dozen more times before both men were spent, both emotionally and physically.

Laying the belt down beside Jeff, Ben sat on the bed and gathered his love in his arms, tears in his own eyes, “I don’t want to lose you to some fling. I want you forever, and I intend to have you forever.”

Looking into Ben’s eyes the realization registered and Jeff threw his arms around Ben’s torso, glad he had made a mistake with someone he loved, someone who wouldn’t throw him away. Wincing as the bed sheets came in contact with his tender flesh, he wasn’t sure if he liked this method of punishment, but if that, time, and communication could heal this wound, he was ready, willing, and able.

1 Comment

  1. Tommy said,

    October 12, 2009 at 2:11 pm

    Hi KJ!

    Great story, but: why don’t bad boys get it on their bare bottom? He got to keep his boxer shorts up?

    Anyway, excellent, and thank you.


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