Fawned

Chapter 15

Someone (probably his mom) had warned Barnaby a long time ago that part of how people develop drinking habits is by convincing themselves that alcohol tastes good. That, apparently, is achieved through repetition. You have one sip, then another to get used to it, then another and another-

And soon, you're too drunk to forget it tastes bad.

Barnaby wasn't sure his punishment actually felt bad.

Sure, it stung, and sure, it was tough to sit afterward, but he'd still had a boner by the end of it.

He still liked having his butt played with.

It all made him feel very tingly, and he liked that, maybe.

But to be positive, he'd have to try again.

He'd have to break another rule.

"...Nine, ten! Good boy, Barnaby!"

Gil snatched the M&M from Barnaby's nose, and the boy let himself rest on his knees. Of all the tricks Gil wanted him to perform, that little balancing act was the only one that required actual practice. At least he wasn't falling on his ass anymore.

His hair was ruffled, and two treats were held to his mouth.

Locking eyes with Gil, Barnaby licked them up from his hand-

And promptly spat them right back in his face.

Rule #4: Don't be a brat.

The response was immediate - Gil grabbed him by the chin, and with one blink, his eyes had turned to daggers. "There better have been a good reason for that."

Of course there wasn't. A Good Reason wouldn't get him punished.

So rather than answer, Barnaby tilted his head and began nipping at Gil's hand.

"Hey!"  His chin was released, but not a second later, Gil's fingers were hooked in his hair, ensuring he couldn't turn away. "You were behaving so well a minute ago, what's gotten into you?" The man almost sounded sympathetic.

Barnaby, however, wasn't looking for sympathy. He shrugged, and though he couldn't move his head, let his gaze drift away from Gil while humming a tune.

"If you keep it up," his owner warned, "You're going to find yourself punished."

Barnaby resisted the urge to smile. Instead, he rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could.

Then, came two magical words: "That's it."

His hair was tugged, and Gil ordered him across his knee.

Barnaby sprung into position, his ass raised high. The tail of his plug stood straight at attention.

"Now you listen to me?" Gil muttered, rubbing Barnaby's bottom.

The blond nodded hurriedly and swayed his hips. His cock was already twitching with interest.

Smack.

"I thought you'd learned your lesson after yesterday."

Barnaby bit his lip to suppress a whimper. Fortunately, Gil gave him enough time to recover and say, "You thought wrong, I guess."

Another smack. A chill racked Barnaby's spine, and he was sure there were goosebumps on his ass. One more, and it started to sting. A moan was torn from his throat.

It was official. Barnaby Hirsch liked being punished.

"You're not counting," Gil growled.