Tobias is usually a very useful boy.

He loves getting pegged. He’s good with his cock when I want to use him that way. And when I put him between my legs, he can stay there as long as I need without slowing down. No complaints, no excuses.

That’s his normal role.

This visit was different.

This visit had one purpose. Punishment.

After the last time I saw him, he got obsessive. Message after message, over and over, pushing for attention he hadn’t earned. He knows better. I don’t reward that kind of behavior. He pissed me off, and he needed to be corrected.

And I also know what he does not enjoy.

Spanking.

So that’s all he got.

First, I told him he would either fully obey me tonight, or this would be my absolute last visit.

No warmup games. No teasing. No distraction. I had him strip, bend over, and plant his hands where I told him. From the first strike, he knew this wasn’t going to be playful. I didn’t ease him into it. I set a steady, hard rhythm and stayed there.

The first few hits, he tried to act tough. Tightened up, breathed through it, little grunts like he thought he could manage me. That didn’t last long. His skin started to color quickly, going from pale to pink to a deep, angry red. I didn’t let him move away. Every time he tried to shift, I pulled him right back into position and kept going.

Then the sounds started to change.

The controlled breathing turned into broken gasps. The grunts turned into real noise. I could hear the edge creeping in, that point where he knew he wasn’t in control anymore. That’s when I slowed just enough to make him feel each strike more clearly, then built the rhythm back up again.

He used his safeword pause once. Just a quick one. Enough to catch his breath, enough to gather himself. I let him have it. That’s part of the structure. Then I told him to get back into position.

And I picked right back up.

That second round is always the real one. The skin is already hot, already sensitive. Every hit lands deeper. He didn’t try to act tough anymore. He was pleading. Not to stop completely, but asking for a break, asking me to ease up, promising to behave.

I ignored most of it. I wanted him to feel it. To remember it.

By the end, he was crying. Not dramatic, not exaggerated. Real tears. His ass was fully red, blotchy, marked in a way he won’t forget anytime soon. His body was shaking, trying to stay in position because he knows that’s what’s expected.

That’s when I stopped. Not because he asked. Because I was done.

He needed to be reminded that attention is earned, not demanded. That pushing past boundaries has consequences.

And Tobias?

He learned. I took his bed that night while he nursed his wounds on the couch. He’ll get another visit – as long as the lesson sticks.