Andy’s Gift

Part Three: Double Trouble

Andy was still upstairs and everything was going on swimmingly until, in a fit of playful rough housing, a box of glass ornaments got knocked over and accidentally broken. The children had already been warned by their father and by Chris to, “Can the rough housing or take it outside,” but the warning had not been heeded, and all of a sudden CRASH!! The sound of shattering glass was accompanied by earsplitting screams that raised the hair on the necks of all three of the adults, making them drop their respective activities and rush to the scene.

“Look what you did, dope!” Jake accused his seven year old sister who was three years younger than he was.

“It was your fault!” Rebecca who was eight jumped to their younger sister’s defense as Alice started to cry.

“Was not!”

“Was to!”

“All right!” Jim held up his hand to silence the bickering as Chris scooped the bawling and frightened Bonnie into his arms. “Somebody tell me what happened.”

“It was Jake’s fault,” the eight year old Rebecca volunteered again.

“It was not!”

“Was to!”

“Was not!”

“All right! That’s enough!” their father stopped them again. “Jake, tell me how this happened,” he looked sternly at his son.

“I don’t know,” Jake started to cry. “We were just playing! We didn’t mean it to happen! It just did!”

“You weren’t ‘just playing!’” Rebecca spat. “At least Alice wasn’t. She told you to leave her alone, but you just couldn’t listen could you? You kept chasing her and trying to tickle her even when she told you to stop! This is your fault and I hope you get a spanking!”

“Shut up! I hate you!” Jake stamped his foot.

“Jake, apologize to your sister! We do not say such things,” Jim started patiently.

“It’s not fair! Everything is not my fault!” he shouted.

“Yes it is!” Rebecca countered.

“Jake, son, I highly recommend that you apologize, right now!” Jim’s voice took on a warning tone, and Jake scrunched up his face, balling his fists, and glowering at his sister as he weighed his options. “One . . .,” his father started.

“Ok!” Jake pouted. “Sorry!” Eliza and Jim turned their attention to the glass, assessing the damage as Chris settled in a chair with the sobbing Bonnie. Rebecca looked triumphant and, sneaking a look at the adults to be sure their attention was elsewhere, she stuck out her tongue at her brother. Jake could not resist the urge to yank her pigtail hard and she let out a blood curdling shriek.

“What in the world?” Eliza exclaimed as she and Jim both whirled around to face their children again.

“Jake pulled my hair!” Rebecca screamed, and Jake began to cry harder.

“Is that true, Son?” Jim asked with as much patience as he could muster.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jake protested.

“All right, Jake, go to your room!” his father commanded, forgetting momentarily where they were.

“I DO NOT HAVE a room to go to!” Jake shouted obnoxiously.

“Then go upstairs to the study,” Chris intervened quietly, “but before you do, apologize to your father!”

“It’s not fair!” Jake sobbed. “It’s not fair!”

At that moment, Andy reappeared, freshly shaven, in his own pair of tight jeans and a stunning new green turtle neck that took Chris’ breath away. “What’s going on?” he asked and the next moment Jake was in his arms, clinging to him and sobbing. “What happened, Bud?” he repeated quietly. Jake was crying too hard to answer and Andy looked at Chris inquiringly.

“He blatantly ignored three different warnings to cut the horse play, resulting in an accident that could easily have caused an injury, he spoke rudely to his sister and pulled her hair, and just now he back talked his father. He’s been told to go to the study.” Andy swallowed and his heart thumped against his chest. How those words made his skin crawl.

“Is all that true, Bud?” he asked Jake quietly, clutching him closer.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean it!” Jake sobbed.

“Ok. I know. I know you didn’t,” Andy soothed, giving up quickly on his brief attempt at the disciplinarian role, and hugging Jake to his chest.

“Jake, I told you to apologize to your father, Young Man!” Chris’ voice carried a warning tone and Jake pressed closer to Andy. “Right now!”

“Tell your sister and your father you’re sorry,” Andy whispered anxiously. Jake lifted his tear stained face to look at him and Andy brought his hand up, gently drying his tears. “Go on,” he encouraged softly.

“I’m sorry,” Jake turned tearfully to look at his sister and father once more and spoke with more genuine contrition this time.

“Ok, Son. We’ll talk about it upstairs,” Jim responded grimly.

“Daddy . . . .”

“Go on.”

“Daddy, please . . . .” Jake pushed his face into Andy’s chest again, and Andy swallowed hard as he caught Chris’ infuriated expression.

“Jacob Robert Preston, your father gave you a direction!”

‘Oh God,’ Andy thought. The full name was bad news as he knew only too well. He met his partner’s now stormy blue eyes full on, and a shiver went through him, but he pulled Jake closer even so, and Chris bit his lip in frustration.

‘Oh, Andy, no! No, don’t do this. Let’s not do this,’ he thought despairingly. Andy rightly interpreted his partner’s thoughts, but the only answer he gave was a petulant scowl, and Chris sighed inwardly, steeling himself for an emotional battle as Andy stubbornly maintained his grip on their sobbing nephew.

Eliza had been attempting to start the clean up process, having retrieved a broom, a dust pan, and a garbage bag from the kitchen. She had enlisted the reluctant help of Rebecca and Alice, assuring them when they protested that she had not been born yesterday, and was therefore confident that their innocence was not as complete as they would have her believe. Now, however, as she saw battle lines being drawn she removed herself and her two gloating daughters from the scene. “Come on Bonnie,” Eliza lifted her littlest daughter who was considerably calmer now from Chris’ lap, and then taking Alice by the hand led the way to the kitchen with Rebecca trailing after her. Chris’ intense blue eyes were focused entirely on his partner now, and he hardly noticed as Eliza and the girls made their quiet exit.

“Is Jake going to get a spanking?” Rebecca inquired victoriously as she tiptoed around the glass.

“That is between Jake and your father,” Eliza informed her daughter quietly, “and as naughty as you have been this morning, Rebecca, I would advise you to attend to your own affairs before concerning yourself with those of your brother.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Rebecca blushed a little and hung her head at the reprimand. Unlike, Jake, she knew how to quit while she was ahead.

“Jake, I am going to count to three, Son,” Jim started calmly. “One . . .,” Jake started to cry harder and Andy tightened his arms.

“Jim, he said he’s sorry . . . .”

“Andrew!” Chris’ tone was quiet, but forceful, and Andy hesitated. This was not the first time he had interfered with the disciplining of their nephew. In fact, it was the third time in as many visits that such an incident had occurred. He was very familiar with the three strikes rule and knew he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn’t help it.

“Two . . .,” Jim continued counting, and Andy’s stomach heaved violently.

“Jakey, I think you better go upstairs,” he clutched his nephew tighter, whispering into his ear.

“No, Uncle Andy, please!” The pitiful wail made Andy feel like a traitor, and he tightened his arms once more.

“Two and a half . . . . If I get to three, Son, you’re going to be in bigger trouble than you are now,” Jim cautioned quietly.

“OK, Jim! Give him a second!” The agitation caused by his clinging nephew triggered Andy’s unusually obnoxious tone and Chris rose to his feet, glowering at him in a way that made Andy’s own bottom tingle.

“Go upstairs, Jakey,” he whispered more urgently this time. “I will do what I can, Bud, but you have to go upstairs. You’re just digging yourself deeper.” Jake looked tearfully up at him and Andy swallowed hard. “Go on,” he commanded softly. Jake hung his head, but with no further argument he turned and with hunched shoulders sobbed his way out of the room.

Andy followed Jake with his eyes, too afraid to look anywhere else, but at last his nephew disappeared, and with dread Andy turned to face the two other occupants of the room. They were both glaring at him, and Andy bit his lip as he tremulously met the furious eyes of his partner. “I’m sorry, Jim,” he uttered shakily, doing the only thing he could think of to mitigate his situation.

For a moment, Jim said nothing as he fought to maintain his patience and tears sprang to Andy’s eyes. Jim followed the younger man’s gaze to see the hardened look on the face of Eliza’s brother, and all at once he melted. “It’s all right, Andy,” he said tiredly, bringing his hand to his eyes. “I know you meant well.” An awkward silence fell, and Andy brushed quickly at the tears that leaked onto his cheeks as he continued to face his silently fuming partner. Finally, Jim looked up again, but could think of nothing more to say. He snuck another look at Chris whose countenance had not softened at all, and then with a resigned little sigh, turned into the hallway and started for the stairs.

“Wait Jim,” Andy started.

“Let it go, Andy!” Chris commanded quietly. Andy looked back at his partner and bit his lip again. He was playing with fire, he knew, the kind of fire that would in all likelihood make sitting an extraordinarily uncomfortable proposition for the rest of the afternoon. All the same, his hesitation was momentary. It was clear as he looked into Chris’ raging blue eyes that he was in trouble regardless. Now, it was merely a matter of degrees, and he had promised Jake. ‘Don’t you dare!’ Chris’ eyes warned as Andy came to his silent resolution, but it was useless.

“Jim wait,” he called again, and he followed the older man into the hallway.

‘Damn it!’ Chris cursed silently to himself as he pursued his obstinate partner.

“Jim wait please . . .,”

“What Andy?” Jim stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned impatiently towards the younger man.

Chris appeared in the doorway of the living room at that moment, but went no further. He honestly didn’t trust himself not to bare his partner’s bottom and pull him down over his knee then and there.

“You’re just going to . . . I mean you won’t . . . you’re not going to . . . ?”

“To what?” Jim prompted. “Spank him?” Jim guessed the question as he read the anxiety on Andy’s face.

“I most certainly am. I would have overlooked everything else today, but you should have heard him mouth off to me.”

“I know,” Andy pleaded, “but he really is sorry. Please Jim, he’s just excited and he didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He didn’t mean to be rude! I’m sure of it! Please!” Jim brushed him off and placed his foot on the stairs, but Andy persisted, clutching at his arm. “Jim please!” Eliza’s husband hesitated as he looked at Andy’s pale face. “It’s Christmas!” Andy said softly.

Jim continued to look at him for another moment, and then ran his hand through his hair. “All right, Andy,” he said in exasperation, “all right! I won’t spank him, but he is going to remain in that room where he is until we go to the hotel, and I do not want you up there feeding him ice cream and trying to make him feel better. Is that understood?”

“Yes Sir,” Andy responded quietly, and without another word Jim turned and continued up the stairs. As Jim disappeared, Andy turned with trepidation towards his partner and quailed at his expression, trying to shrink into the wall as Chris started his way. Chris was having none of it. He had not one sympathetic bone in his body at the moment.

“Come here!” He took Andy hard by the arm and dragged him away from the wall, hustling him along towards the dining room as Andy tripped in an effort to keep up.

‘This was bad. This was very, very bad,’ Andy started to panic. ‘He’s not going to do this now is he?’ The thought hit him like a Mac truck and his hand shot instinctively to his backside. Chris had never ever spanked him while there were other people in the house. ‘Well not knowingly,’ Andy reflected sourly. His face burned once more as for the second time in two days he was forced to confront the memory of the unfortunate incident that had occurred when Chris and Douglas were roommates.

“You can take your hand off your bottom you goose,” Chris commented wryly as he pulled him into the dining room. “Sit,” he pushed him firmly into a chair at the table and opened the drawer in the tiny writing desk that stood in the corner, pulling out a medium sized black notebook and a pen.

“No not lines,” Andy begged. “Please! You know how much I hate writing lines, Chris!”

“Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you went and stuck your nose where it didn’t belong,” Chris snapped.

“Please? It’s Christmas,” Andy tried the same plea he had tried with Jim on Jake’s behalf, but it didn’t work half so well on his own. In fact the only response he got was the ‘Cut the crap!’ glare Chris had perfected to an art form, and Andy dropped his eyes, scowling sulkily at the table.

Chris opened the notebook to where Andy had left off writing the last time he’d been in trouble, and placed it on the table before him. Andy’s frown deepened. His wrist felt tired just looking at all that writing. “Please read,” Chris instructed, pointing at the page.

“I will not interfere in matters that do not concern me,” Andy’s voice rang out petulantly.

“Fine, I think that will do,” Chris replied, ignoring the tone. “You may sit here and write it until Jake comes out of his room and or Eliza and Jim leave to check into the hotel. Understood?”

“Yes,” Andrew replied unhappily. Chris started to leave and Andy stuck his tongue out at his back.

“Do that again, and we’re going to have an issue,” his partner responded without turning around.

Tears stung Andy’s eyes and he picked up the pen as he glared at the page. ‘How does he always fucking know?’ he contemplated to himself as he started to write. He had, as his wrist could certainly testify, been in trouble many times in the past for interfering in this same kind of way where Jake was concerned. ‘At least it worked this time,’ he thought resentfully, and that knowledge brought him some little bit of satisfaction as he got down to the hard business of writing.

The following hour that remained before Jim and Eliza took their family to check into the hotel passed smoothly. The mess was cleaned up, and the girls were duly well behaved and quiet. Bonnie came into the dining room once to ask Andy what he was doing, but Chris shooed her away, telling her that her uncle was busy finishing some very important paper work that had to be completed before the party started. No further questions were asked by any of the children and they all left Andy alone. Eliza, Jim, and Chris busied themselves with party preparations and Chris made Andy’s excuses, telling them the same half-truth he’d told his niece. They didn’t question it, and at twelve they gathered their little family into the car. Jake came to the door of the dining room as they were leaving and Andy looked up, quickly closing his book.

“We were leaving for the hotel, and I just wanted to say bye,” Jake mumbled awkwardly as he came further into the room.

“Come here, Bud,” Andy stood up and opened his arms. Jake snuggled into them, and Andy kissed his head.

“Thank you for sticking up for me, Uncle Andy,” Jake sighed. “I really am sorry.”

“I know you are, Jakey,” Andy replied softly. “It’s over now, and it’s Christmas! So cheer up! We’ll go out and build a snowman when you get back, ok?”

Jake nodded against his chest, wiping at some rebellious tears. “I missed you Uncle Andy! I really missed you!”

“Me too, Bud!” Andy smiled a little as Jake looked up at him, “Me too!”

“All right, Turkey! Let’s go,” Eliza summoned her son from the hallway, and Andy walked out with him. “See you later, Honey,” Eliza grinned at him. “I hope you got all your work done.”

“I did,” Andy nodded, forcing himself to answer as his stomach rebelled. ‘If only that was the end of it,’ he thought miserably. Chris came up and slipped his arm around him, and Andy cuddled up against him, but his eyes fell on the yellow fly swatter Chris was dangling discretely at his side, and his heart dropped as hot tears formed again quickly. He buried his face in the nook of Chris’ neck, and Chris gently kissed his forehead, tightening his arm and holding him close.

Eliza was busy with her daughters’ coats and mittens now, and Jim turned to open the door, placing his hand affectionately on Jake’s relatively subdued shoulder. “See you guys later,” Eliza called cheerfully as she ushered her chattering brood out the door. Nobody but Andy seemed to notice the flyswatter, or if they did they never stopped to reflect that in December there were not likely to be many flies for Chris to swat.

Finally, the door closed and Andy and Chris found themselves alone. The silence fell hard on Andy’s ears, and he nestled closer to Chris. His crying became audible and as he started to sob, Chris held him closer, rubbing his back soothingly as he worked up the resolve to do what he had to do. He had been so hoping there wouldn’t be a need for this today, and he was cursing himself for allowing such a late night last night. As wonderful as it had been, it had clearly not been good for Andy. The late night combined with the early morning wake up call and the overall frenzy of the last week had left his partner in a state of complete emotional exhaustion, and an incident of this kind had almost been bound to happen.

Chris sighed, “Go on Baby, get your book,” he whispered finally, and with a dramatic, shuddering sigh of his own, Andy turned back into the dining room. It didn’t take him long to retrieve the required item, and Chris took it from him, wordlessly. He transferred it to the same hand that held the fly swatter, and then taking Andy’s hand in his own, he led his weeping partner towards the stairs.

Chris’ heart ached as they climbed the steps and made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. Andy’s plaintive sobs continued to fill the air and Chris wanted nothing more than to turn and take him in his arms, but they had to get this over with. Spankings were always hard of course, but something about this right now just seemed extra hard. ‘Well to begin with, it’s Christmas,’ Chris pondered miserably, ‘and he’s so tired!’

He let go of Andy’s hand as they entered their room, and as a precaution, went to the windows, drawing the curtains shut. He did not think it likely that the neighbors would be able to see, the way their house was situated, and they had more than two hours left before they had to worry about guests arriving. Still, Chris was an extremely private person. He was very protective of Andy and particularly sensitive to his partner’s feelings ever since the incident involving Douglas had occurred. It had been over four years ago now, but the memory was still fresh and though Andy had forgiven him long ago, he had not forgiven himself.

He turned from the windows and was touched to see his distraught partner fretfully pushing his jeans down and off. He didn’t intend to spank Andy very hard, and had chosen the fly swatter for that reason. When applied briskly, it delivered a pretty good sting and Andrew would be sore for a couple of hours, but then the sting would fade, leaving a vaguely warm reminder in its place. It was enough given Andy’s sensitive heart. The process of the spanking was what undid his partner, Chris knew, and the flyswatter would therefore be a more than affective way to get his point across. The last thing he wanted was to cause any lingering discomfort that would lead Andy to feel anxious around their guests this afternoon.

Chris continued to watch in tender amazement as Andy, now wearing nothing but his new Christmas boxers, hung his jeans and turtleneck neatly over the beat up old armchair in the corner of the room. Andy under normal circumstances never hung anything anywhere except at Chris’ insistence. He settled on the bed, placing the notebook and flyswatter beside him, and looked at his partner with wistful eyes as Andy turned to face him. “Come here baby,” he called softly and Andy burst into tears again as he crawled across the bed and into his partner’s arms, burying his face on his shoulder.

Chris held him close and stroked his hair, just letting him cry for a while, and when at last Andy began to calm again some, he picked the black notebook off the bed and opened it. Keeping one arm around his partner, he began to thumb through it until he found where this theme of interference had started. Andy pressed his tear stained cheek against his partner’s chest and looked with him as Chris flipped through page after page: The blue pen (first warning), the yellow pen (take heed), the first set of red lines signifying his third and final opportunity to avoid a spanking, and finally the lines he had written earlier today. Typically, there would not be a second set of red lines. Three warnings were all he got.

Today, however, Chris had found himself in a predicament. Jim and Eliza’s presence in the house had prevented him from administering the spanking immediately, and he had needed a way to distract his partner. The act of writing lines was as good a way as any to minimize the anxiety he knew would otherwise eat at Andy until the punishment occurred.

Chris sighed. It helped both of them to see from a visual stand point how much conversation had taken place on the topic, and in this particular case, there had been a whole lot of discussion. Chris glanced at his partner’s face as he continued to flip the pages. Andy had definitely grown calmer. It was time to get this over with. He turned the next page and paused, staring down in surprise and then shifting his eyes to his partner once more. Andy was looking up at him now, a slight blush in his cheek. “It’s a remarkable drawing, Love,” Chris whispered affectionately without a single hint of facetiousness. It always took him by surprise what Andy could do artistically with the most limited resources imaginable. He looked back at the page now, noting the careful detail and loving attention that had been paid to every feature. Andy had drawn himself bottom up over Chris’s lap, tears gushing, his partner’s hand poised and ready, and he had definitely used the red pen to its best advantage. Chris felt tears burning his own eyes, and he brought his fingers up to brush them away. Obviously, Andy’s anxiety had found another way to manifest itself, a way that Chris had not anticipated.

“It’s an unbelievable drawing,” he repeated gently. “It’s not exactly what you were supposed to be doing, though is it?” This time there was just a hint of scolding sarcasm as Chris dropped his hand lightly to Andy’s bottom.

“You were going to spank me, anyway. I didn’t think it mattered,” Andy sobbed turning his face into his partner’s chest again. Chris didn’t deny it; he just pressed his lips to Andy’s forehead and brought his hand caressingly to his shoulder, hugging him close once more.

“Tell me why a spanking is necessary, Love,” Chris whispered, pressing his cheek against the top of Andy’s head.

“Because I interfered, again, between Jim and Jake,” Andy sobbed.

“Ugh huh and . . .,”

“. . . and we’ve already discussed this . . .,”

“Many times,” Chris agreed. “What else?”

“I’ve had three warnings,” Andy clutched at his partner, knowing punishment was imminent, now, and Chris rubbed his back soothingly.

“Yes you have,” Chris acknowledged again. “Stretch out!” Chris patted his bottom lightly, and Andy clung to him, starting to sob once more. Chris waited patiently and finally Andy did as he was asked, stretching his legs out diagonally on the bed and pressing his face into Chris’ legs.

“Come on you,” Chris chided with fond amusement, “get up here.” Andy inched closer and with a sigh Chris gripped his torso and hauled him over his lap.

“Chris, please!” Andy sobbed as his hands flew back to cover his now vulnerable hind end.

“Hands, Caro,” Chris commanded quietly. Chris used his pet name for Andy in moments when he was feeling especially tender, and the sound of it now had a much greater affect on his partner than a reproof would have had in its place. Andy instantly removed his hands, clutching the comforter instead and hiding his face as Chris gently tugged his underwear down to rest just below his bottom. “I know how fond you are of Jake, Baby,” Chris laid his hand lightly on his partner’s bottom as Andy cried, “and he is a wonderful kid, but he is head strong and obstinate at times. He doesn’t always think before he opens his mouth, like someone else I know,” Chris chided, giving his partner’s bottom an affectionate squeeze. Andy was not amused. “He needs limits, Andy, and he especially needs consistency. You may not agree with all the decisions Jim and Eliza make, but they are his parents, Sweetheart, and they love him. It is not up to us to question them. Every time you step between Jake and his father, you chip away a little at Jim’s authority. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Andy sobbed, “but it’s Christmas!”

“That is besides the point, Caro. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

“Yes,” Andy cried, “yes, I understand and I’m sorry!”

“All right then, Love,” Chris gripped Andy’s waist and held him snugly. “Hopefully, this is the last conversation of this type that we will have to have.” With that Chris raised his hand and brought it down smartly on Andy’s bottom.

“Oww!” Andy yelped. “Oww! Oww! Oww!” Andy squirmed as the rain of smacks continued, but Chris gripped his waist and held him fast, continuing to burn his bottom with his hand. “Oww! Oww! OWWWW!” Andy wailed. “I’m sorry, please, please! Ok, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he choked, bucking and twisting to get away as his partner’s hand continued to fall.

Chris’ heart was full, but he was determined to teach a firm lesson and he applied his hand in a quick, rhythmic manner until his hand began to tingle. He pushed his partner’s hands out of the way twice, and the third time Andy reached, Chris pinned his wrist to his back. By the time Chris finally stopped, Andy’s bottom was glowing a bright, healthy shade of pink, and he was laying contritely over his partner’s lap as he sobbed into the comforter.

Chris stroked his partner’s hair and rubbed his bottom soothingly for a couple of moments, but then he started quietly, “Andy, it was more than your interference that upset me today. Your interference was certainly impertinent to begin with, but the tone you used with Jim was downright rude, Young Man!”

“No, Chris, No!” Andy panicked, sobbing harder as his partner pulled his underwear lower and picked up the fly swatter. “Please! I didn’t mean to be rude! Please!” Andy’s hands shot back in an attempt to protect his vulnerable bottom.

“You might not have meant to be rude, Andrew, but you were, nevertheless. Take your hands away!”

“Please, I’m sorry!” Andy sobbed, and he continued to clutch his bottom.

“I’m going to count to three, Caro, and then we’re going to the study,” Chris warned. “One . . .,” Andy pressed his face into the comforter, and his stomach heaved violently. His bottom was already so sore. “Two . . . .”

“No Chris, please!” Andy definitely did not want to trade their room and his comfortably, intimate position over Chris’ lap, for the colder more austere setting of the study. All of his most severe discipline sessions had taken place there; his bottom clenched involuntarily. No, he definitely did not want to visit the study right now.

“Move your hands, Caro.” Andy lay for another minute, indulging himself in his last millisecond of self pity. “Two and a half . . .,” Chris voice warned and at last Andy jerked his hands out of the way.

“OK!” he sobbed.

‘Thank God,’ Chris breathed an inward sigh of relief. He did not have it in him to visit the study today either. “Never again, Andrew,” he reprimanded, “will you ever address a guest in our home the way you addressed Jim today! Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Andy choked in a small voice.

“Good!” Chris responded and Andy screamed as the flyswatter snapped briskly into his already blazing bottom.

“Owwww!” Andy howled. “Ow! Ow! Owww!” He tried to crawl away, but Chris pinned him, holding him still and swatting his bottom vigorously. Slowly his bottom went from pink to red and Andy’s heart rending sobs filled the air. Still, Chris continued to spank, until once again his partner lay still., weeping in exhaustion.

Andy clutched the comforter and sobbed, balling his fists as the spanks continued to rain down, and letting all the emotion of the past several weeks go. He trusted his partner implicitly to know what he needed and as sore as he was he began to feel comforted by the warmth in his backside. Spankings from Chris provided what he felt he never had otherwise, an outlet for all his pent up emotion; emotion that he under other circumstances found it difficult to express. Finally, the spanking stopped, and a moment later Andy felt his partner’s warm, soothing hand on his bottom. Andy just wept, and wept and wept. It was several long minutes before he began to grow calmer. Finally, however, the vehemence of his distress lessened, and he laid completely still, rubbing at his eyes and pressing his face into the blankets. He was exhausted.

Chris, without a word, gathered Andy in his arms and cuddled him close, stroking his hair as he cried. He pulled Andy’s barely clinging boxers all the way off in an attempt to make his partner more comfortable, and reached for the spare blanket at the end of the bed. Andy pressed his face into the soft fuzz of Chris’ sweater, and as Chris pulled the blanket up over him, his eyes began to droop. Chris pushed the hair away from his hot forehead once more, planting a gentle kiss, and alternately rubbing Andy’s bottom and lower back until, finally, lulled by the quiet of the room and the warmth of his partner’s hand, Andy fell into the kind of deep, impenetrable sleep that only results from complete and utter exhaustion.