by T M Chris
“That’s all totally normal,” Grant said when Kelvin finally stuttered to a stop. “You’re exactly where you ought to be at this point. In fact, you did better than I expected. You really are a great candidate for this study.” Grant’s smile made Kelvin feel good, almost proud. He liked having Grant pleased with him. He’d been expecting to get chewed out for the ways he’d fucked up, so the approval warmed him to the point he almost forgot what was coming next.
“I think we’ll go for thirty today,” Grant said. “Technically, you owe us a few more than that, but this is your first time, and I’m pleased with how well you did. Are you ready to get to it?”
Kelvin shook his head. How was he supposed to be ready for that?
“We can sit here for a while if you’d like, but I promise it’ll feel better to get it over with. You’re just going to dread it until it happens.”
“What am I supposed to do?” It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of being spanked. It was more that he didn’t know how to go about it. He hated looking stupid.
“Nothing too complicated. Undo your pants and push them down around your knees. Then lay yourself across my lap.” Grant moved his chair away from the table, making his lap accessible. “I’ll do the rest.”
Kelvin rose like he was sleepwalking. He’d worn a pair of relaxed jeans, ones he wouldn’t have to make a spectacle of himself wriggling out of, which meant he had a belt on. He unbuckled it and tugged it free from his waistband. It slithered as it pulled through the loops, making him shiver. His belt was only lightweight canvas. Grant’s was leather. Would it wallop or sting?
He undid the button on his jeans, then pulled down the zipper, his movements slow, though not because he wanted to be alluring. Only because the committee in his head was having an argument about what the hell he was doing taking down his pants so Grant could whale on him.
One committee member thought he should gather his things and go. I don’t understand why you can’t just do your assignments without all this rigamarole, that committee member said. Kelvin called her Mom because she used the same language his mom did.
If he could do his assignments, he wouldn’t be in this position, the committee member he called Dad said. Dad was a practical dude. Mom still had faith in Kelvin, for no justifiable reason.
A third committee member said Hot. Kelvin called that committee member Kelvin because it was always horny.
Oh, whatever, said the voice of nihilism, which he called Nietzsche for the obvious reason. Nietzsche never had any opinion except whatever. Nietzsche got him in a lot of trouble.
Kelvin didn’t really have voices in his head, just various manifestations of his own voice, but he thought of the dithering that went on in there as a committee because committees never got anything done.
“Prolonging it won’t make it any easier,” Grant said after a few moments of Kelvin toying with the edges of his waistband. “Believe me, I know.”
“Why? Have you ever been spanked?”
“No.” Grant grinned. “Just doled out a lot of spankings.” He flexed his right hand, stretching his fingers to their full length. They were very long. “You’re going to survive this if you just get to it.”
Fine. Kelvin would get to it. He told the committee to shut up. The only voice he was listening to for now was Grant’s. The Kelvin voice chortled happily as Kelvin lowered his pants. He’d worn cotton boxer briefs in a heather grey—very manly underwear he wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about since he would have too much else to be embarrassed about.
“There you go,” Grant said, raising his eyes to Kelvin’s face so he thankfully wasn’t staring straight at Kelvin’s package. Kelvin wasn’t hard, but there was some plumpness going on. It gave him an impressive bulge, but he was nervous about what was going to happen next.
“Come on over here now.” Grant patted his lap, and Kelvin shuffled a few steps forward. Maybe he should’ve gotten himself in position before taking down his pants. Something to consider for next time.
He half crouched, half leaned, no idea how to gracefully put himself over someone’s lap since he’d never done it before, until his pants tripped him and he ended up tumbling forward. Grant caught him, his arms firm and steady as they guided him into position. Kelvin’s ass stuck up at the ceiling, and his head dangled. He braced his hands and feet against the ground, making himself into an upside down V.
“This will go easier if you relax.” Grant ran his hand up the center of Kelvin’s back. The stroke was meant to soothe, but it made him shiver.
“Just do it.”
“I didn’t realize you were the one in charge.”
Kelvin couldn’t see Grant’s face because his own was pointed straight at the floor, but he could hear the smirk in Grant’s voice. This was all so humiliating. Thank God they were in the room with the blinds, where he didn’t have to worry about anyone else watching. Thirty spanks, and it would all be over. If Grant would just fucking start.
“Are you going to do it or not?”
Grant laughed. “Someone’s in a hurry.” He ran his hand up and down his spine until Kelvin started to relax despite himself. This was nice. Did he really have to get spanked? Couldn’t he just be petted into behaving better?
The first swat came out of nowhere. Grant had lifted his hand—that should’ve been the clue—but Kelvin was nice and zoned out and not expecting it to land again with such a sharp sting.
“Ow!” He put his hand back to touch his ass where Grant had just belted it.
“Did you think this wasn’t going to hurt? You’ve only got thirty to get through—twenty-nine now—but they’re going to be the real thing. No babying.”
“I don’t need to be babied,” Kelvin grumbled. He put his hand back down on the ground and braced for the next blow, but once again, it didn’t come. Not until he relaxed and then bam! There it was, making him jump. At least he managed to keep his mouth shut this time.
“Come on, Kelvin. Let go. Let me do this.”
Let him do it. Let Grant pound on him. Both of those slaps had hurt, even coming as they did over the cloth of his shorts. Twenty-eight more of them. How was he not supposed to tense up?
“Accept it,” Grant said. “This is going to hurt, but you need it. And I’m doing it out of love, not anger.”
“Love?” Kelvin snorted. Dude was whaling on him.
“Well, a general fraternal love I extend to all beings, but sure. Love. I want to help you, not hurt you, but sometimes things have to hurt in order to help. Now loosen up for me, Kelvin. Take your punishment like a good boy.”
“Can’t you just do it already?” Kelvin was getting frustrated. This was dragging on so long—him upended over Grant’s lap—and he didn’t like being told he was doing it wrong.
“Okay, I guess we’ll do it the hard way.” And finally Grant did it. He raised his hand and let fly. Kelvin swore Grant was hitting extra hard on purpose because the blows really stung now, each one sharp and resounding. The sound was almost as bad as the impact itself—the ring of Grant’s hand against his ass reminding him with every blow exactly was happening. A man was spanking him. A handsome stranger whose job it was to teach him what discipline felt like.
The first blows had hurt—more than Kelvin had expected them to. But the sting rose with each additional blow until heat raged like wildfire across his ass. He’d thought his undershorts were a shield, but the thin layer of cloth wasn’t doing much to stop the pain, only slightly muffling the sound.
And worst of all, his fear that his dick would misbehave turned out to be prophetic. It was jammed up against Grant’s thigh, rubbing against it as he squirmed in a vain attempt to avoid the blows. The bright heat and the ungainly position and the humiliation of being upturned like a child over an authority figure’s lap should be doing the exact opposite of turning him on, but something was turning him on.
He braced himself harder, trying to keep his cock from being jammed into Grant’s thigh by the impact of the bl
ows. He was sure Grant could feel it, which only added to his embarrassment. Not only was he allowing Grant to spank him. He was liking it. Liking it almost as much as he disliked it. His insides churned with an unbearable combination of horniness and humiliation as the pain grew more and more intense until he realized he was whimpering. A constant low vocalization flowed from his mouth, expressing pain and need and something else. Contrition.
He was bad. He’d been bad. Hadn’t done his work and was being punished for it. And now he was sorry. Sorry he’d put himself in this position, sorry he was making Grant do this to him, sorry he’d let himself down, sorry he couldn’t do better. But he just honestly, honestly couldn’t. His whimpers turned to outright sobs until he was crying with heaving breaths and all the while his cock was as hard as steel. He churned against Grant’s thigh, thrusting his ass up to meet Grant’s hand like he was chasing it.
“There, there.” Grant stopped hitting him to run his hand soothingly up and down his spine the way he’d been doing at the beginning, and this time Kelvin didn’t argue with him about it.
“Am I done?” he asked with a snuffle.
“Not yet.” Grant stroked him so gently, but his voice was so firm. “You’ve got ten more.”
Kelvin didn’t see how that could be possible. Grant had already hit him a hundred times. “It hurts,” he whined.
“It’s supposed to. But if you relax your body like I was trying to get you to, it’ll go easier. Just let go and let it happen.”
The more Kelvin relaxed, the more his cock dug into Grant’s thigh, but when he released some muscle tension, Grant said, “There you go,” so approvingly that he let go completely. Grant had to know about his cock being hard, but he must not care. Maybe everyone got hard while they were being spanked.
Grant raised his hand and slammed it down again. There wasn’t any less force in his blows now, but Kelvin could feel the difference—how his ass shimmied and rippled with the impact as it flowed through him. He wasn’t sure it hurt less, but it was more of a whole body admonishment and less of a single point of pain, which did him in even worse. His sobs started back up in earnest.
He only needed to take ten more, but he imagined they went on forever through the veil of his tears, which flowed so hard he lost track of everything else until he realized Grant had stopped hitting him. He was still over Grant’s lap, churning his hips like a rutting dog, the agony in his cock competing with the agony in his ass, but now Grant was patting his butt with a light pressure that fanned the flames but also felt good. Reassuring and intimate.
“Shh,” Grant hushed him. “Shh. Settle down now, Kelvin. There’s my good boy. You did so good. It’s all over.”
All over? Kelvin was glad the spanking had stopped. Maybe. But there was more, wasn’t there? More something. He wasn’t sure more what, but when Grant put him on his feet, carefully averting his eyes as Kelvin pulled up his jeans over his inappropriate erection, he felt cheated. There should’ve been more.
He left the Bio building with his ass stinging and his eyes wet, confused about what more he’d been chasing, but at least he knew where he was going. His next task was right at the top of the list Grant had helped him make.
Chapter 6
Turned out having the list really did help, and Kelvin didn’t mind the lingering soreness. In fact, the soreness didn’t linger as long as he would’ve liked. So after some dithering, he went back for a second session and left with another list and a slightly less sore ass since he’d managed to accomplish a decent number of things.
But his annoyance with the principle of the matter didn’t fade even as the pain did. Could he really only be a functioning college student if he allowed Grant to hit him? Grant, with his graceful, slender hands that really packed a wallop and his dorky man-bun and turtleneck shirts. Grant, with his stern voice and happy smile. Grant, who had a strange combination of easygoing dude and authoritative disciplinarian. Grant, who could take Kelvin apart like he enjoyed doing it, and who could make Kelvin enjoy it too.
Grant had done something to him. Broken him so that now he had this kinky yearning all mixed up with his performance anxiety. Grant had unlocked the secret to Kelvin’s success, but the secret had turned out to be a street drug that could do for Kelvin what no prescribed medication had ever been able to do. It shouldn’t be legal. It couldn’t be legal. And Kelvin shouldn’t allow it to continue, shouldn’t allow himself to be taken advantage of this way. Even if it worked. Even if he liked it.
Full of righteous fury the morning before his next session, he stormed over to the office for the Dean of Student Affairs and sat for a long time in a chair made of leatherette and chrome waiting to see the head guy in charge. Dean Schuster had a shiny bald head and a weary expression, as if he already knew that whatever Kelvin was going to say, it was going to make him tired. But Dean Schuster would sit up and take notice once Kelvin spilled the beans on what Grant and Dr. Abidi were up to. Corporal punishment had been outlawed a long time ago, right? Unless nuns still…. Anyway, the point was, colleges didn’t do that kind of thing, and however Dr. Abidi had managed to disguise his sick study, Kelvin was about to blow the truth wide open.
“What can I do for you, Kevin?”
“Kelvin.”
Dean Schuster looked down at the paper on his desk as if he questioned whether Kelvin knew his own name. “Kelvin. Right. What can I do for you?”
Kelvin could hear the sigh in Dean Schuster’s voice, just waiting to be let out.
“I signed up to be part of this study. For extra credit. For Dr. Abidi’s class.”
“Oh, that study,” the dean said, managing to sound even more bored. “Yes, yes. I’m well aware of Dr. Abidi’s study.”
“If you’re aware of it, then why is it still going on?”
“Because it’s a fully approved and accredited study. From what I understand, the data shows promise.”
“But they spank people.” He leaned across Dean Schuster’s desk. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
“Have they harmed you in any way?”
“They spanked me.”
Dean Schuster grimaced like he didn’t want to imagine such a thing, and frankly, Kelvin didn’t want him imagining it. “But that was what you agreed to, wasn’t it? You signed a consent form which fully detailed the study’s objectives, methodology and processes, did you not?”
Well, yes. He had. Still.
“Then I’m not understanding the basis of your complaint.”
“He’s my teacher!”
“Oh, well, that doesn’t seem ideal. I was assured that the, er, disciplinary administrators would be paired with subjects so as to avoid any direct academic interaction.”
“I don’t mean that guy.” Now that Kelvin was in front of Dean Schuster, he couldn’t quite bring himself to get Grant in trouble. “I mean Dr. Abidi, the guy whose study it is. He’s my Pscyh professor. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“But Dr. Abidi isn’t the one who administers the, uh—”
“Spanking,” Kelvin said, because he was feeling pissy. Dean Schuster could dance around the subject using fancy words all he liked, but a spanking was a spanking. “It’s a spanking. And no Dr. Abidi isn’t personally spanking me, but it’s his study and he’s my teacher. Isn’t that an abuse of power? Making me get spanked so I can get better grades in his class?”
“You’re referring to the extra credit he offers, right?”
Kelvin nodded. Dean Schuster finally seemed to understand. Now he would shut down the study, and then Kelvin wouldn’t have this horrible, roiling conflict over whether or not to go to his next appointment so Grant could whale on him and fix him and give him dirty sex dreams and humiliate the hell out of him because he was allowing all that to happen.
“But the extra credit is purely voluntary. If you don’t want to participate in the study, don’t participate in it.”
“There ought to be extra credit where I don’t have to get spanked.”
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Dean Schuster released that sigh he’d had queued up since Kelvin had walked into his office. “Dr. Abidi isn’t required to offer extra credit at all. Participate in the study or don’t. It’s your choice. Seems like the easiest option would be to turn in your assignments on time and in good order. Then you wouldn’t need the extra credit, would you?”
No. But if Kelvin could turn his assignments in on time and in good order, he would never have enrolled in the study to begin with. And the expression on Dean Schuster’s face suggested he knew that.
~~~
“Don’t you feel like something is missing though?” Kelvin asked Taylor. The two of them had become sort-of friends, mostly because Kelvin kept seeking Taylor out. This spanking thing was a major upheaval in his life, and he only knew one person he could talk to about it. “Like, this dude whales on your ass and then he just puts you out the door?”
“It’s not sex,” Taylor said. “It’s a business arrangement. And the whole point is to avoid the spankings.”
Kelvin hadn’t shared with Taylor the part about how he always got hard while Grant was spanking him. Taylor wasn’t gay, so maybe that was the difference. Or maybe Kelvin was just weird.
“I’m not saying it’s sex.” He hadn’t managed to get off yet at any rate, despite his body trying like hell to find a way every time Grant had him over his lap. “But it’s more than business. It’s like a father thing, right? Like family.”
“My dad never spanked me.”
“Well, mine either really, but you know what I mean, don’t you?”
Taylor shook his head. “Dude, you’re reading way too much into this. If you don’t do the work, you suffer the results. That’s all. It’s helping, isn’t it?”
Kelvin nodded. He’d been going to Grant for four weeks now, even though every week he sort of promised himself he wasn’t going to do it, and his grades were definitely improving. His last two papers had been handed in on time, and one of them even got a B+. But he never managed to tick off everything on his task list, which meant he always ended up over Grant’s knee, though he’d kept his punishment under twenty smacks ever since that first time. Which was disappointing in a way.
