Free oneforluck by Desconhecido(a) Page A

sighed softly to himself and stripped off, telling himself to just deal with this, get it over with, and then there would be a shower and food and maybe cake, time with Garth that wasn’t stolen from work.
    Gar didn’t let him go right to the stage, instead he was drawn close and Gar’s big hands slid over him, warming his skin. He was encouraged to lean in, rest against Gar’s shoulder and breathe, fill his lungs with the almost-spicy scent that was as familiar as his own. His muscles started trembling as they tried to remember how to relax, to ease.
    Gar’s touches turned more into a massage. “You’re all wound up, baby. You need to relax -- I want you to enjoy your birthday spanking.”
    “It was a bad day.” He shook his head at himself. A really bad one, but Gar always had his back. Always. He knew that.
    “Oh, baby.” Gar hugged him in even closer. “I’m sorry.”
    “Me too, but it’s over and you...” He took a deep breath. “You made it better.” He grinned. It was a little irritating, actually, how Gar did that, knew what he needed.
    “Good.” Gar took his mouth in another kiss, this one completely stealing his breath. Then his ass was smacked. “How many swats is it? Forty? Fifty?” Gar winked at him.
    “Look, old man...”
    Gar growled at him. Fuck, he did love that sound. His body started to stiffen, cock filling enough to slide along Gar’s thigh.
    “I think you’re ready for that spanking.” Gar’s hand slid along his back to grab his ass and squeeze.
    “Yes, Master.” He felt like he could breathe, like his skin was on the right body.
    Gar stripped down to just his leather pants, and took Michael’s hand, leading him to the stage. Their area of the club grew hushed in anticipation as their friends here waited for them to start.
    The quiet was another level of comfort, the walk just long enough for him to settle into his head space.
    Gar led him right up the stairs to the padded bench. “There’ll be twenty-nine swats. One for every year, and one for good luck.” Gar sat first, patted his legs.
    “Yes, Master.” He draped himself over the familiar thighs, loving the way Gar took his weight.
    One of Gar’s hands slipped beneath his belly, making sure his prick was between the leather-clad thighs, giving him a gentle squeeze.
    “Oh...” The sound slid out of him, soft enough that only Gar would hear it. And he heard Gar’s low, pleased hum, a sound just for him.
    “Birthday spanking. Count, please.”
    “Yes, Sir.” He waited for the first blow, moaning out a “one” at that first, solid slap. With that first spank, the rest of the club disappeared entirely, the world fading to just him and Gar.
    “This is for you.” Another solid hit landed on his ass.
    “Two, Sir. Thank you.”
    “I have a gift for you.” The next hit landed.
    “Three. Three, Sir.” A gift?
    Gar kept swatting him, telling him something new with each swat. His master loved him. His master was proud of him. There was chocolate mousse cake with candles coming. Eventually. By twenty, his ass was on fire and he was beginning to moan, cock and balls aching.
    Now the compliments started. He was beautiful. He was smart. He was such a good sub. He made Gar so happy.
    Finally Gar hit twenty eight. “One more, baby. This is the one for luck.”
    He nodded, the sweat on his thighs making Gar’s leathers slick.
    “You’re allowed to come, baby.” The swat immediately followed the last word, Gar’s fingers slapping over his hole.
    “Master!” He bucked up, humping down into those strong thighs. Gar knew that drove him crazy. Then Gar pushed a finger against his hole and his spunk sprayed out of him.
    He panted, hands gripping Gar’s calf as his ass burned. Moaning softly, Gar rubbed his ass, intensifying the burn. Then his master helped him stand and put his silk robe around his shoulders. Their gathered friends clapped and whistled, a couple called out, “Happy birthday!”
    He curled into