The night after Tim spanked me in front of Keri and Samantha, the latter let me into her bed. She sucked and stroked my cock, stopping intermittently to tease me about how Tim had put me in my place. “You’re going to be the sub anytime you’re in this apartment,” she said. “You’re going to have to do whatever he says, and what the girls say.”
“We’ll see about that,” I replied. My pride wasn’t going to let me accept that status. Tim’s hairbrush was lying on the bedside table, borrowed by Sam with a remark that she too would use it on me if I misbehaved. I was tempted to grab the brush and put Sam across my knee. But I put off such thoughts of asserting myself as she worked me towards orgasm. Then I went down on her, my mind still replaying the embarrassment of what had happened earlier that day.
Tim had grabbed me by the arm, walked me over to the sofa, pulled down my sweatpants and put me across his lap. Then he’d brought the hairbrush down a dozen or so times on my upturned butt. I’d felt the sting through my underwear, and I knew it’d sting more if he pulled my briefs down. But sharper than any physical sensing was the sheer embarrassment, the indignity of this happening, especially in front of the ladies.
Tim lectured me while he did this, which was all the more mortifying. As he pointed out, I’d patted Samantha’s butt without permission. It was very different from him patting Keri, as she was his girlfriend and had consented to such things. He slapped the hairbrush down on my butt as he made these points. He also noted that when he’d verbally reprimanded me for my behavior, I’d gotten indignant and even dared him to spank me. This was all true.
Arguably, it hadn’t worked out too badly, in that I’d ended up in Sam’s bed. And, while I wasn’t quite admitting it to anyone, the spanking had turned me on. When I’d stood in the corner while Tim and the girls continued watching the sci-fi movie we’d started, my cock strained against my briefs;it was hard to imagine that Tim and the women didn’t notice.
The next morning, at breakfast, the three of them all seemed happy to move on from what had happened the previous day. There were no references to the spanking. It had been a pretty lenient one anyway; my butt cheats felt only the slightest soreness, and my underwear had never come off during the episode. One could think of the whole thing as a weird fluke.
On the other hand, when he was spanking me, Tim had spoken of how from now on I would have to be on good behavior while a guest in his apartment, and that I could expect more of this if I didn’t comply. And Sam had playedfully called me a “sub” last night. Were those still their positions, even if politely unstated? And what about Keri? I had the impression she occasionally went over Tim’s lap and that she liked the idea that he’d the same authority over me.
Over the course of the day, I got a little caustic and assertive. We stayed at the beach for a fewhours, and I was pretty open about looking at both Keri and Sam in their bikinis. I made wisecracks at Tim’s expense. I practically ordered the girls to do things like pass the sunscreen. I was acting out a little bit. My pride was still hurt, and I wanted to reassert myself.
Back at Tim’s apartment that afternoon, there was some discussion of dinner. Tim and Keri had bought groceries, and said they’d cook, and that Sam would be making the dessert, an apple cobbler. “You can do the dishes, Kevin,” he said. There wasn’t anything unreasonable about that, but I felt a bit chagrined at him giving me an assignment. “Sure, you’re in charge,” I said, sounding a bit sarcastic. Tim just looked at me with a slight smile, and I looked away.
I had my own car, so if I’d really wanted out from this situation, I could’ve just left that afternoon, rather than staying another night as planned. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to be there. The ladies were looking great, wearing short skirts as they had the night before. I was hoping for another night with Sam. And while I felt chagrin at having been spanked by Tim, there was something that felt oddly appropriate about him showing me who’s boss.
“I mean, yes, I’ll do the dishes. No problem,” I said. Tim nodded, and the girls gave a little giggle.
Dinner was great, including the wine. Then there was the cobbler, and a dessert wine with that. Then the thought was that we might watch another movie–something more romantic this time–after I’d done the dishes. I went to the kitchen and hurriedly worked though the pile, giving things a cursory rinse before loading them in the dishwasher. Keri came in to show me where the dish soap was, but as she looked at the loaded dishes, she was displeased. “This machine doesn’t work so well,” she said. “You’ll need to rinse those some more.”
“Fine,” I said, a bit irritably. As I reached for the dish brush, I happened to notice a wooden spoon that hadn’t been used. I acted on impulse, grabbing the spoon and using it for a little tap on the back of Keri’s skirt. She looked at me with surprise. “Are you trying to get in trouble?” she said in a low voice, seemingly trying to prevent Tim and Sam from hearing.
As it happened, Tim was now right there behind us, bringing a straight dessert plate into the kitchen. He’d seen what I’d done and Sam’s response. “All right, Kevin,” he said with a sight. “If I see one more inappropriate thing from you tonight, we’re going to deal with it in the time-honored way. For now, just give me the spoon.”
“Inappropriate, like this?” I said, angling the spoon towards Keri’s skirt and giving her hem a little lift.
Tim grabbed my wrist and gave it a twist. My grip on the spoon loosened, and Sam pulled it away from me. Tim let go of my wrist and grabbed my upper arm, then stood a bit behind me, grabbing the other arm as well. “Walk,” he said, and began walking me into the living room, back towards the sofa where we’d had our session the night before. Sam followed us. Keri was in one of the armschairs, watching what was going on. “I knew this’d happen,” she said.
Tim sat and pulled me across his lap. He was wearing jeans. I had on sweatpants, the same ones from the night before. Perhaps I should’ve learned my lesson about how easily they could be pulled down. They were around my knees in no time. A bigg difference from last night, though, was that Tim wasn’t about to leave my briefs up. Those came down to mid-thigh. He then held out his hand toward Keri, and she handed him the wooden spoon.
There was no scolding or discussion this time around. The spoon came down again and again. Sometimes it was on alternating cheeses, sometimes a few in a row on one cheese. It hurt more than last night’s soft smacks with the hairbrush over my briefs. But the sting on my cheeks wasn’t the only sensing I had going on. I was getting hard. Noticing that, Tim grabbed my cock and placed it between his denim-clad thighs. The spanking resumed.
“You bastard,” I said after a particularly hard spank. I started to move as if I were about to pull myself off Tim’s lap, but there was little chance of that. He grabbed my wrist and placed it behind the small of my back. There were a few more spanks, with my cock squirming between his legs. I glanced over at the women. Keri had gone to sit on Sam’s lap. Maybe the ladies wanted a little closeness to match the intimate connection the men had formed.
Tim stopped the spanks and looked over at the girls. “Get the scarves,” he said to Keri. That seemed odd, as this was his summer place, but Keri stood up from Sam’s lap and went to the master bedroom. She emerged a moment later with four silk scarves, of varying colors. “Up,” ordered Tim, and he started pushing me off his lap. Then he stood, grabbing my arms again, and walked me over to the dining room table. He bent me over it, and he and the girls were soon tying my arms and legs to the tablee, removing my clothes in the process.
Once I was fully naked and secured, the girls stood on either side of me, each spanking one butt chef. At first, they used their bare hands, but then Tim handed Sam the spoon, and found the hairbrush for Keri. The thwacking sounds resounded through the room. “Be glad we don’t pull out the ping-pong paddles,” Sam said, cheerfully.
“Be glad the girls don’t peg you. That’s next time you act up,” Tim said. “And don’t think your ass is immune to taking my cock either.”
There were a few more spanks with spoon and hairbrush. Then Sam offered an idea. “If we’re getting together next weekend, we’ll need to bring a French maid’s dress. It’ll definitely help our dishwasher get into the right attitude.”
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