Pledges: Gay Erotic Stories by Shane Allison Page A

as he howled into the back of the chair.
I don’t know that Michael’s fantasy had included this much pain and crying and loss of control. But I think for the first time, he realized that the contract was a two-way deal that included my fantasy of raising some useful members of society.
When I lowered the strap this time, Michael collapsed onto the chair, crying steadily. I dropped to my knees in back of him, set the strap on the floor, and tenderly cupped his hot, deeply reddened cheeks in my palms. He gasped and stiffened at the onslaught of pain, then relaxed back onto the chair, still sobbing, as my tongue stroked over his heated skin. The smell of his sweat-drenched asshole drew me like a bear to honey. I buried my face in his crack, reveling in the heat where his burning skin touched my face.
My tongue flicked over that sweet, musky rosebud. Michael groaned and cried at the same time, but I dug in and I ate him the way I wanted to. I love the taste of a young, hot asshole that’s been softened and loosened by a good strapping. Michael’s asslips were smooth as the insides of my lips. I kissed and tongued his tender pucker until it kissed me back. Then I dug in deeper, burying my tongue in his dank, moist heat until he was bucking back against me, wanting my tongue-job more than he cared about the pain in his ass. I opened the front of my jeans and pulled out my cock, jerking myself off while I made that boy dance on my tongue. The heat of his kissing asshole traveled through me until each stroke had me almost ready to shoot.
I carefully stood back up, leaving my raging cock hanging out of my jeans as I lifted the strap again. Michael groaned, clutching the chair and stiffening in anticipation. This time, he knew what was coming. But he held his position, kept that gorgeous ass up and ready for me.
“Son, you will always do your best with your schoolwork!”
I put my full strength behind the last two strokes. Each blow left a long, nasty welt.
Michael was beyond talking from the start. He thrashed against the chair, arching and yelling, absorbing each of the marks he’d said he so craved to help him get some discipline and hot sex in his life. But not once did he try to move his ass out of the line of fire. He was beautiful. My cock ached with wanting him.
That was all his ass could take, though. I didn’t give him any warning when I switched to the last task.
“Son, when you need a whipping, you will come to me and confess—immediately—or suffer the consequences!”
With that, I seared three hot, fast, heavy lashes across the tops of his thighs. One on the right, one on the left and one across the backs of both. I let each stroke wrap onto the inside of his legs. Man, did he yell! I thought for a moment he was going to bolt upright. His shoulders shook as he strained to hold on to the chair.
But he stayed in position, sobbing as the lines striping his thighs turned the same deep red as his butt. Damn, I was proud of that boy. I was so hot I was ready to shoot just from looking at that well-whipped skin, and from listening to the contrite apologies of my now thoroughly chastised son. I tossed the strap and shoved down my jeans, pulling a rubber over my dick with one hand while I shoved lube up Michael’s loose, open hole with my other. Then I sank my screaming cock up his ass, all the way in on the first stroke. There was no resistance at all, just a long, low cry from him and I was buried to my balls in his sweet, open ass.
“Have you learned your lesson, Michael?” I shoved in harder, slamming my pelvis up against his hot, red skin. “Has Daddy whipped you enough, or do you need more of Daddy’s strap?”
“No more, Sir. Please,” he gasped. “It’s enough, Sir. Please, just fuck me!”
He ground his cock into the chair. I pounded into him, my skin slapping up hard against his ass with each thrust. The heat of his asscheeks felt almost as good as the sucking warmth of his hot, shivering hole. A