Eclipse Of The Moon ~ Book 1 of Aaron
Chapter 34
Time-Out

Sunday 24 August 2003

"Aaron. Wake up."

Mmm... I'm so tired...

As an intense ray of light suddenly hits my face, a grunt of exasperation escapes my mouth and I roll to lie on my stomach to hide away from that blinding bitch hanging from the ceiling, wrapped like a burrito in my comforter. I forgot to turn up the thermostat last night, too numb to even get up again from my bed when I grasped how cold it was in here. After I realized that Ivan had already nosed in my homework and found out about my recent idleness, all I wanted was to reach my bed and drown into oblivion.

I wasn't that lucky.

I knew how bad I had messed, not only with my jaunt to the nightclub, but also with my lack of seriousness during Ivan's absence. I could only imagine how disappointed he was in me, how betrayed he must have felt, and the mere thought kept me awake for all night long. In fact, it feels like I barely fell asleep and I wouldn't mind a few more hours in the warmth of my comforter.

Wishful thinking...

"AARON, WAKE UP! It's the second time I'm asking, and believe me, there won't be a third time," Ivan growls as he roughly snatches my comforter and discards it on the floor.

The sudden cold has me sit up and glare back at the man who's standing at the foot of my bed, even more so when I briefly peek at my alarm clock and see that it's only 7am. No wonder I feel so tired and grumpy, I remember I saw the clock hit 6 in the morning. I may be fully aware that I must shoulder my responsibilities and deal with the consequences of my acts, it doesn't mean I'm going to capitulate so easily.

Fuck. Between a certain someone's strictness and my exhaustion, the day promises to be problematic at best – painful at worst.

"Ivan, it's barely 7," I sigh, rubbing the sleep off my face before I look up at him. "I'm tired..."

Without surprise, he is standing tall and tense, his arms folded across his chest and glowering down at me. He looks tired too, his eyes smaller than usual, and it doesn't soften his angry features the slightest bit. Quite the opposite. I don't know how many hours of sleep he got or how long he has been up, but he is already dressed in blue jeans and a white dress shirt that looks so sexy.

"Do I look like I care? No. Be downstairs in five minutes."

His grave voice holds its habitual sternness and inflexibility. It's the voice that leaves no place for pleading or reasoning, and anyway, before I even have time to open my mouth, he is already out the door and on his way downstairs.

Did I say the day was going to be painful? More like excruciatingly painful.

Exhaling a long sigh of frustration, I crawl out of my bed and drag myself to the bathroom, still in my boxer briefs. After a quick trip to the toilets and then to the sink to spray my face with cold water as an unsuccessful attempt to wake up, I stop by my bedroom to slip into a pair of dark-blue sweatpants and go downstairs to face the beast.

I find him in the kitchen, seated at the island counter and surprisingly quiet and relaxed as he sips on his tea. Someone has been busy it seems if I judge by the other mug filled with tea, a plate of toasts and another one with freshly baked pancakes resting on the table. Not willing to start the conversation, I simply hop on my stool across from him, and since he remains silent, I help myself with a few pancakes that I cover with marmalade and start eating.

I'm so fucking tired, though. And here I thought I could have worked all night long and go through the day as if all was normal. Bullshit. And the more minutes tick by, the worse my mood gets.

"Couldn't it wait until a little later?" I grouse as I finish my third pancake, annoyed by the heavy silence.

"No, it couldn't. I was awake and now is a good time."

"I'm tired, Ivan..."

"Not my problem. Next time you'll think twice before you sneak out. Without my permission," he replies dryly.

"I JUST WANTED TO HAVE A BIT OF FUN!"

"NOT IN A NIGHTCLUB!" he shouts even louder. "I don't mind you going out as long as you inform me, but not in a nightclub until you're 18!"

"I'll be 18 in barely two months. What kind of a difference does it make? It's just plain ridiculous!" I spit, pushing my plate.

"Ridiculous or not, that's what it is. Now, shall we talk about all the rules you breached?"

Uh-oh... there we go. Here comes the lecture and punishment talk. Well, I'm ready to fight with my own arguments.

"Oh yeah? And how about your security guys? Are you going to lecture them too? Will they get punished for allowing a minor inside the club?" I accuse with a bit too much self-confidence perhaps.

I don't like how he straightens up on his stool because it means he probably has a better line of reasoning.

"It doesn't exactly work like this, but indeed, they'll earn a lecture and I'll take remedial actions. These guys are good at spotting illegal teens, and when in doubt, they usually require them to present their ID. It won't happen again, don't worry. Thanks to you, I've decided to amend policies in all my clubs, and from now on, all customers will be carded," he replies with such self-satisfaction that I could slap his face, especially as his expression immediately darkens. "Now don't stir away from your own responsibilities because you fucked up in more than a way."

"Go to hell," I mutter under my breath, but the old man is far from deaf.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

The barking has me shut up right away. Ivan looks like he's about to explode and I'm quite surprised that his next words only come through an icy voice rather than a shout.

"If I can't trust you, I swear I won't hesitate to get a better surveillance system and cameras in all the rooms of this house, Aaron. For fuck's sake, you didn't even put the alarm on! I might as well hire a couple of security guys to watch over you full time."

"No... it won't be necessary, Ivan. I promise I won't do it again," I plead, not willing my supervision to increase.

"I do hope you'll learn your lesson through your punishment and that this incident won't happen again," he continues with such self-assurance that I fear the worst for what is to come. "Consider yourself grounded for a full week, and by grounded I mean no recreational time, no game devices, no computer, and no phone."

"You can't do that... not my phone... the guys will worry if I don't call them..."

"Honesty, Aaron. Before I confiscate your phone, you'll text them and say how you fucked up. You'll tell them that you're punished and won't have access to your phone for a week. If they get worried, they already have my number, just tell them they can call me anytime, I'll give them news. It'll teach you a good lesson."

"It's not fair..."

"Fair it is, young man, and if I were you, I wouldn't protest because there's more coming your way," he retorts meaningfully. "The grounding is just a dire consequence of what happened last night, but let's talk about how you slacked last week now."

"Ugh..."

"I'm really disappointed. So little progress. You barely accomplished 80% of your weekly program, and the little you did was botched. I can't tell whether you took advantage of my absence or if your motivation is dwindling, but trust me, I won't let the situation sink."

"I'm sorry, I promise I'll catch up. I'll work harder."

"I'm not sure I can trust you, and sadly, I can't be on your back 24/7, so I've made an important decision," he declares gravely, causing my heart to constrict from his seriousness. "I'm going to call this tutor who came here a few times already. If I remember well, he's now fully available, so I'll hire him with a regular schedule."

Rein it in, Ron... Don't burst out laughing...

Well, that's a hard one. Hard not to laugh.

Ivan sounds like he just announced the worst piece of news ever. As if it was the end of the world, or worse, as if he had decided to kick me out. Holy fuck, this the best news of the day!

He is undeniably talking about Marek, the cutie who indeed came here a few times back in July to help me with complex notions in math and science. The cutie who looked so shy and innocent that I could have eaten him alive. Between the sexy angry hunk in front of me and the image of the adorable nerd in my head, my cock starts swelling and that sucks because despite my boxer briefs, it might show through my sweatpants.

Since I can't afford for Ivan to find out that I am welcoming this specific sanction, I instantly gather my spirits and pray that it will start as soon as next week. That should give me enough time to scheme and play my cards well with Marek, but right now, there's another set of cards I need to play well if I don't want Ivan to hire another tutor.

Clearly, I'm not supposed to approve his decision. I should be angry. And that's what I'm going to show him. Thank goodness, I didn't need more than a second to figure this out.

"What!? No!!! I don't need a freaking tutor!" I exclaim in what looks like genuine anger.

"As far as I know, I'm making decisions, not you. If you want... scratch that, if I want you to be ready by mid-October to take the GED test, there's no way I'll let you slack like you did last week, and you've barely reached half of the program in nearly two months."

"But... but... it's going to cost you hundreds of dollars!!!"

I don't need to fake my fervor on this specific argument because that's the only point I truly care about. I understand that Ivan is filthy rich and that these fees wouldn't be more than a drop in his ocean of wealth, but that would be wasting money, especially as I have handled the program well enough so far, asking for Josh's help from a distance occasionally, or Ivan's when he's available.

"That's my problem, not yours. You're getting a tutor, whether you like it or not," he unsurprisingly retorts with determination.

Well, I actually do like the idea, but I'm not supposed to and I can't yield so easily.

"Please, Ivan... I'll be serious... I don't need a tut..."

"Enough, Aaron! Cut it out! I remind you that I'm the one deciding!"

Hmm... How far can I push him to make it realistic? He knows I like my autonomy...

"You're such a dictator... No, you're worse, you're a tyrant... An unfair oppressor!"

"Dare say that again?"

"I said you're a dictator, a tyrant and an unfair oppressor," I repeat harshly. A bit too harshly maybe.

"How dare you?" he breathes out, and everything in him tells me I might have gone too far this time.

It's not only the genuine pain in his tone. It's the way his hands grip his empty mug so tightly that his knuckles whiten. The way his muscles suddenly strain the fabric of his shirt. The veins of his neck stand out in a way that nearly allows me to see the blood coursing through them and his already-dark eyes have turned to pitch black.

"I've always been very clear with regards to my expectations and we had a deal. A deal you agreed to. Now please tell me, which part of our agreement haven't I respected? Then I'll tell you which parts, in the plural, you haven't respected."

Shit! Ivan is absolutely right. He was clear from the start; so clear that he even laid down all the rules on a sheet of paper, and I agreed to all of them. I could spend the day racking my brains, I'm sure I wouldn't find a single occurrence of him failing his engagements.

"That's what I thought," he says bitterly after a whole minute of silence. "Shall I give you a rough list of the rules you breached?" he then asks, and I can only shake my head in answer. "You may consider me a tyrant, Aaron, but you are a brat. A freakin' brat on whose education I'll have to get a firmer grip it seems."

"I'm not a brat," I mumble, and I hate that my tone says the contrary.

"You are a brat, and do you know how brats are punished, Aaron?"

Oh my goodness... there we go again with the punishment talk. I hope I'm not in for some corner time.

"I asked you a question, Aaron!" he screams, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I... I don't know..."

"Then follow me, I'll show you," he says after a few seconds squinting at me, hopping off his stool and heading toward the living room.

My muscles naturally obey the order my brain received, and seconds later, I find myself standing in front of Ivan who has sat down on the couch, his backside on the very edge of the seat and his back as straight as he's gay.

"Your little show was fit for a four-year-old, so you'll get what a four-year-old deserves in such a situation," he says dryly. "I want you to pull your sweatpants to your ankles, lie across my lap, your legs on my right side, and you'll receive as many spanks as I deem necessary for you to learn your lesson. At least until you understand that you shall never speak to me like you did again."

This time, my muscles refuse to comply with the order my brain received. Visions of the past flood my head and forcefully block my obedience command. Visions of my parents' old-fashioned living room and more specifically, my father's leather armchair, the one where he always sat to punish me. The memory of the painful sting coming from each slap delivered with his hand, a spatula or his belt is still very vivid.

"Aaron, I'm waiting..."

Ivan's grumble won't help my petrified muscles and I remain as still as a stone. Right now, I am recalling the last time my father punished me in a similar fashion, almost two years ago, on my sixteenth birthday. I don't want to experience this humiliation again, but that's without counting on Ivan's determination. After a few more seconds, he firmly grasps my wrist and yanks on my arm, forcing me to lie across his thighs.

I can't...

I can't do this.

Just as he sets to push my pants down, I start writhing over his lap, unsuccessfully struggling against his powerful grip, and that's when the word goes past my lips, unexpected yet so natural.

"TIME-OUT!!!!"

As Ivan's muscles freeze – in a weirdly automatic way, as if he knew it was going to happen – I scramble up and without giving him a chance to speak, I dart for the entrance hall, run up the stairs and lock myself in my bedroom. I can hear Ivan's hurried footsteps and his worried voice calling me out, but overwhelmed by those memories, I just collapse on the floor and lean against the door.

"Aaron..." he calls again from behind the door.

I was expecting him to shout in anger, but his weak voice is only screaming fear.

"Menino, open the door..."

Tears have flooded my cheeks now and I am shivering like a leaf. With my arms crossed and tucked between my folded legs and my chest, my short nails are already trying to dig into the flesh of my upper arms.

"Aaron... we need to talk this out... you just can't safeword and leave without an explanation... please talk to me..."

Safeword.

Oh yeah, that's how he calls the word I should use as a way out of a situation I can't handle around him.

Safeword.

Is that even a verb?

"Aaron... I need to know what went wrong. Was it the idea of a spanking in itself or because I was too rough? I just need to understand, Menino."

Why the fuck does he need to understand? Can't he just see that I didn't like it? Isn't that enough for him? Do we really need to discuss it?

Fuck! I don't want to provide explanations. I just want him to go away and leave me alone. He can be such a pain in the neck!

"I'm not going anywhere until I get answers."

A stubborn pain in the neck.

"Even if that means sitting here all day and not going to work tonight."

That's his problem, not mine.

I hear a heavy sigh followed by a bit of shuffling as I believe he sits down in the corridor, and then, there's only silence. Long minutes of silence that only achieve to unnerve me to the point that my nails start scratching my shoulders. Dammit! I need to stop that. As much as I am angry at Ivan, I don't want him to worry over what he calls a light form of self-harm.

That's the only bad habit I haven't been able to get rid of, though, to be honest, it hasn't often happened lately since I am feeling much better. It's just natural reaction I can't seem to avoid when I am stressed. All the same, this has been enough messing up and I don't want to make things more complicated than they are.

"The first one..." I eventually say when I can no longer bear the deafening silence.

"The spanking in itself?" he immediately replies. "I had warned you it might happen at some point and you never clearly protested against it."

"Thought you were joking..."

"I never joke with discipline, Aaron. Please tell me what prompted such a strong reaction."

I don't know what to tell him. Ivan knows a lot about my past, but he still ignores darker spots I have never felt ready to disclose, and that includes how my father would punish when he was deeply angry. Perhaps it's time I made another revelation, even if he ends up lecturing me on my lack of honesty.

"It's... I just... I just remembered... it reminded me of..." I stutter, not really sure about how I should bring this up. "I'm sorry, Ivan... I didn't tell you everything about how strict my father was..."

"AARON, OPEN THAT DOOR!" Ivan screams, anxiety clear in his voice, as he seems to stand up and tries the doorknob again. "I need to see you, Menino... please... open that door..."

His angst sounds so deep that I feel compelled to oblige. I have barely turned the key that Ivan barges in and immediately begins a quick inspection of my limbs. Of course, he doesn't fail to notice the faint marks on my biceps, but despite his obvious annoyance, he pulls me into one his tight hugs and remains silent for a long moment.

"Did he beat you? Was he as violent as your friend Camden's father?" Ivan asks seriously after a while.

Oh my goodness, I would never dare compare the few times my father became violent to what Cam endured throughout his childhood and until his genitor was thrown in jail!

"No!!!" I exclaim, disentangling from his hold.

Wiping the few remaining tears from my face, I slowly go to sit on my bed while Ivan settles in the armchair by the window.

"He was never violent like Cam's father," I sigh, staring at my laced fingers between my crossed legs, "but he used to spank me on rare occasions. He'd use his hand or a wooden spatula... or his belt when he was super angry. It wasn't often, but it happened."

"Even when you'd grown old!?" he exclaims, apparently shocked.

Look who's talking...

"I was sixteen the last time he spanked me, but the last time he used his belt was the day before I ran away," I state, looking up and squinting disdainfully at him. "I'm almost eighteen and you were about to do the same, so you're not any better!" I then accuse bitterly.

I was expecting him to jump to his feet and scream in anger at my tone, but instead, Ivan reclines into his armchair and stares at me very calmly. He looks lost in his thoughts, probably realizing how right I am.

"You're wrong, Aaron," he finally retorts unexpectedly. "I'm sorry your father treated this way, it was inacceptable. I'm not familiar with kids and to each their own beliefs, I guess a little slap on the butt of a kid who misbehaved wouldn't really hurt as long as it remains reasonable and doesn't turn into a habit... though... I don't know, like I said, I'm not familiar with kids... but beating them up is just not tolerable. You'll have to tell me more about what you really experienced in your childhood and adolescence, but as I see it, it sounds like your father went past what's reasonable, even if it was occasional. Now please, don't compare me with your genitor because the situation isn't the same."

"Why wouldn't it be the same?" I snort.

"Do you remember what I said when I gave you a copy of our... agreement? About having a choice."

Of course, I do. This is what convinced me to accept it.

Somehow, I'm sure it must remind you of your childhood since you said your parents were so strict, but the difference here is that you have a choice. I wouldn't force you to stay and actually, I won't accept to take care of you if you don't willingly agree to the conditions. Even if we yet have to discuss details, you can already see the ins and outs, and it's those that you need to ponder on. Yes, there are plenty of rules, there's rigidity, but in counterpart, I'm offering you the bright future you deserve.

"Yes, I remember."

"Like I already told you, our relationship could be considered as some sort of roleplay; a game," he adds, using his fingers as some quotation marks, "in which I'm the guide and you're the disciple. Of course, it's more serious than a mere game here, because your future's at stake, but there are rules and conditions like in a game. Rules and conditions we both agreed to. I told you that we could discuss things, that I could compromise; you had your say in every detail, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," I admit quite shamefully.

"You see, that's where the difference lays, Aaron. Your father imposed his archaic discipline on you, as a kid, you didn't have a choice. I, on the other hand, proposed my discipline to you, and it was your choice to accept it or not. Doesn't that make a difference?"

"It does," I concede with a sigh, "but the spanking..."

"A spanking can be more or less painful, but it's not only about pain. It's about the humiliation it yields, and that's what makes it an efficient sanction, especially after what happened this morning and the way you behaved. I'd say it's just a notch harder than corner time."

"A huge notch then..."

"Aaron," he sighs in his turn, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "I told you I can compromise, and if you want to set this as a hard... as something you can't handle because of what you experienced as a child, I'll understand, but you have to tell me."

"I... I don't know... I need to think about it..."

"Fine with me, Menino. No matter what, I'm really glad you used that word to stop me, that was the perfect reaction. If you ever have to say it again, please just don't run away and hide like you did, because I need to understand and as you can see, this conversation was more than necessary. I told you many times, but I'll say it again. I can become a bit too intense sometimes, so trust me, communication is the right way to sort things out. Understood?"

"Yes, I got it."

"Good. Now I'll leave you a bit alone and let you ponder on all this. I'll be downstairs, just let me know if you have more questions."

With a last gentle ruffle of my hair, Ivan walks out and quietly shuts the door, leaving me with plenty of thoughts buzzing in my head. As usual, he is right on so many things. Yes, I was given a choice, I could have refused his offer, or I could have even compromised on certain aspects. I should have been more honest with him back then, I should have told him about my father's strict discipline, it would have helped.

I also understand the difference between him and my old man, but it doesn't make me more comfortable with the spanking thing. I'm just happy that Ivan offers me the opportunity to refuse that form of punishment, and yet...

And yet, a crazy idea is creeping its way to my head. I always hated each time my father would make me bend over my bed or lie across his lap to slap my backside; because it hurt; because I felt humiliated.

What I can't deny – and that's precisely what Ivan said – is that each time my father disciplined me this way, it always bore its fruits for a long time. After the severe spanking when I was 13, I behaved for almost three years. When he did it again on my sixteenth birthday, I must admit that I made a lot of efforts for several months. It was definitely an efficient sanction... at least until I gathered the guts to run away.

So...

What should I do?

Yield to Ivan's conditions?

Reject this method of punishment?

What is it I want the most at the end of the day?

Easy. What I want the most is for Ivan to be proud of me. I want to succeed and achieve all the goals he fixed for me. I want him to forgive me for my mistakes and my misbehavior, and that might not work unless I let him have his way. And then again, what if that spanking is what I need to correct my behavior, to learn my lesson?

Without thinking twice, I spring to my feet and hurry downstairs while I'm determined to do this. Ivan is exactly where he sat earlier, reading a car magazine that he quietly rests beside him on the couch as I stop in front of him.

"Okay, punish me," I blurt out straight away, which has his eyebrows deeply furrow. "I'm sorry I wasn't a hundred percent honest about my father, I should have told you everything, and you're right, you and he can't compare. So please, punish me. It can't be more humiliation than corner time and I'm sure it'll help me learn my lesson."

"Wow, wow, wow, please calm down, Aaron," he cuts me. "Where does this sudden eagerness come from?"

"I know you're right about that... spanking thing. When you say it's an efficient sanction. I remember how I would always behave for a long moment each time my father corrected me like this. And then, I trust you. I want to remain on the right track, so please, just do it."

"I get your point, Aaron, but I need to be sure you're really okay with this. It can't be just to please me," he argues, squinting at me.

"There's a bit of that, because I want you to forgive me, but I've seriously considered all aspects, and I'm sure I want to do this."

"Okay, then," he replies with more confidence as he sits up on the edge of the seat and straightens his back. "Pull your pants down and lie across my knees.

Without hesitation or further cogitation, I move to stand by his right side, let my pants pool at my ankles before I bend over and awkwardly settle across his lap. The position is a bit more embarrassing than I thought with my butt helplessly exposed, which inevitably engenders a blush that I'm glad Ivan won't see. Things get even worse as one of his hands comes to rest between my bare shoulder blades and the other reaches for my covered backside. His touch brings funny tingles in my lower belly and I think my stupid cock is trying to swell against his thigh.

"I would normally impose a certain number of spanks," he suddenly says in his usual stern voice, which is a welcomed distraction from my previous thoughts, "with the option to use your safeword at any time, but here, I'd rather you take your punishment until you think you've learned your lesson, and once I've reached the limit you can handle, just tell me to stop. How does that sound?"

Hmpf... It sounds a bit fishy. How am I supposed to know how many spanks I deserve for my earlier behavior? I could tell him to stop after just one, but it wouldn't be fair, I guess. How many would he think I deserve? That's where the trap is, actually. So desperate to please him and to gain his forgiveness, I might end up taking more than I deem necessary.

I can't help a startle as the first slap lands on my right buttock even though it wasn't that hard. The second one hits my left ass cheek, pretty similar to the first one in strength, and so are the next four spanks, which allows me to handle the situation quite well so far, at least in terms of humiliation and pain. It's just a bit harder to deal with my unexpected arousal.

I can only assume that my cock is swelling from Ivan's touching what is supposed to be a sexual part of my body, or perhaps is it the friction of my crotch against his thigh. I can't think of another reason because the one thing I'm sure of is that I never had an erection when my father spanked me. I also know from past conversations with my friends, back in the days we were reading porn magazines, that some people derive pleasure from a spanking during intercourse. That suddenly reminds me how I smacked Cam's backside when I fucked him last year, and to be honest, I liked it.

What a great idea to recall such memories in your situation... Look at that... You're nearly fully hard now!!

Yeah, that's pretty much embarrassing, but the slaps getting harder won't let me dwell on this. The sting is increasing with each of them and after a while, I can no longer avoid weak grunts of pain escaping from my mouth. As the smacks get stronger and louder, I'm close to tell Ivan to stop, but how many have I gotten so far? Fifteen? Twenty? More?

Okay, just a few more...

I can do this...

Fuck! It hurts!!! By now, I'm certain Ivan isn't refraining on his strength anymore and I feel like my backside is on fire. At the same time, I realize that the pain is distracting me from more spiritual distress, like the humiliation this position yields or my dire desire to gain Ivan's forgiveness.

"Stop..." I breathe out when an umpteenth slap hits a particularly heated spot.

Ivan's reaction is instantaneous as he quickly puts me back on my feet, yanks my pants up and stands up to pull me into a tight hug.

"Forty-one... That's my brave boy, I'm so proud of you," he praises me warmly.

"Ugh... Just tell me I'm forgiven... please."

"As far as your morning tantrum is concerned, yes, you are, Menino," he replies.

"I'm sorry again, Ivan, I didn't mean it... you're not a tyrant."

"I don't believe so indeed. I'm just strict and don't tolerate such talking-back, I'm sure you'll learn that," he chuckles as I disentangle from his hold, taking a step back. "How's your backside by the way?"

"Huh... now you're mentioning it, it hurts," I grumble, rubbing my sore ass. "You took it hard on me."

"Punishments aren't meant to be pleasurable, Aaron," he retorts with an eyeroll, which is precisely why I wouldn't tell him how the tutor sanction is quite welcome. "Go take a bath, it'll help, and I'll also give you some sort of arnica ointment that should soothe the sting. It won't completely fade, but it'll be better."

"Alright, thanks," I say as I turn around and head out.

"No longer than half an hour, Aaron. We still have things to sort out before I go to work," Ivan calls out as I run up the staircase.

"Okay!!!"

Dammit! I may be off trouble for my insults this morning, but I'm still in for heavy sanctions regarding my idleness and the fact that I went out without his permission last night. All I hope is that he won't confiscate my phone like he promised, otherwise it's going to be a long and boring week without my habitual chitchat with the guys. Crap! I was really unlucky on that one. What were the odds that I chose a club he owns? There are so many in Los Angeles!

Anyway, I can't change what happened and I'll just have to bear with the consequences. While I relax in the warm water of my bath, I think back to last night and the thrilling orgasm I enjoyed from this Aaron guy. The name has to make me chuckle, though... Seriously? No way I'd date someone with my name. Nonetheless, I got my little release and it felt good. It was just a blowjob, but I don't know... perhaps it was the lack of sex in the past months... or perhaps it was the whole situation, the fact that we were doing this among other couples... or perhaps it was just him and his experienced mouth...

He was one fucking gorgeous guy and once again, I realize that my tastes in men aren't really fixed. Old, young, tall, small, bulky, slim... I could just fuck with any type of guy without real preference for as long as they have a flat chest and specific parts dangling between their legs.

All this thinking has gotten me all hot again, but sadly, my hand will have to do the job this time. My fingers are now trying to reproduce my partner's lips and tongue, giving firm strokes along and around my shaft, and within only a few minutes, the thick substance erupts from the slit and blends into the water, leaving me all faint for a moment.

"Aaron, it's almost been half an hour," Ivan suddenly calls out from behind the bathroom door. "I've left the ointment on the floor. Now hurry up, Boy!"

"Yeah... yeah... I'll be with you in a few minutes..." I stutter, already pulling on the plug and reaching for a washcloth and the shower gel as the water drains away.

Well, the bath somewhat soothed the sting as Ivan promised, even if my butt still looks very pink in the mirror a few minutes later. Despite the ointment, which also helps a bit, my boxer briefs don't feel very comfortable on my sensitive skin, but it's still better than if I went commando and had to bear with the nylon of my loose shorts.

Once I am ready and have tidied up the bathroom, I head back downstairs and find Ivan in the library, sitting at my table and looking into my notes.

"Feeling better?" he asks without looking up.

"Yeah, thanks."

"I've already called that young guy, the tutor," he continues, still focused on my notebooks. "He's about to apply in several universities for a job in research, but since he hasn't made his decision yet, he's available to work with you. Even if we yet have to define a detailed schedule, he has accepted the job, so that's one good thing. Here, I have selected the exercises I want you to redo today, more seriously," he then says, locking his strict eyes with mine. "And tomorrow, although it should have been your day off, you'll have to catch up with the rest of what you should have achieved this week. Understood?"

"Yes, I'm sorry again, Ivan," I reply as genuinely as I can, trying to contain my joy that Marek accepted the job.

"Yeah... whatever," he grunts, pointing at a box he put on an armchair. "In there, I want the mouse and keyboard of your computer, both controllers of the PlayStation and the television and DVD player remote controls. Now."

Well, I was expecting this, so I easily comply with his instruction and unplug all the accessories from the devices and put everything in the box.

"Last but not least, your phone," he then adds, just when I started believing he had forgotten about that one.

"Ivan, can I..."

"Nope, you're not keeping your phone, Aaron."

"It's in my bedroom..."

"Then go fetch it. You may send a text to your friends before you switch it off and put it in the box."

With a heavy sigh, I return to my bedroom and retrieve my dear phone from the drawer of the nightstand. As I switch it on, a message from Joshua pops up on the screen, making me smile.

Joshua – Fucking fiasco. Guy is straight as a pole. Not even bi curious. Hooked up with a cutie instead, but still too bad. The other guy was a gorgeous hunk. Will tell you more later. Hope you had a good night.

My smile broadens at his words. Poor Josh... I guess his gaydar isn't completely on point, or it failed him. Oh well, at least he found someone else. My own night was pretty good, but it didn't end very well and that's exactly what I text him.

Aaron – Night was fun to a certain point. Went to a club. Hooked up with a guy. Had sex by the restrooms. Got caught by Ivan. It was one of his clubs :( Will tell you more in a week. That's when I'll get back my phone, computer and games... You can call Ivan if anything urgent. Have a good week.

Before I get on Ivan's nerves for being too long, I send similar texts to Mark and Camden before I switch off the device and head back downstairs.

It's going to be a long and boring week without contact with my best friends.

Published on 26 February 2020

Truth be said, it's really weird working on these chapters now that I'm back to write Rise Of The Moon and currently dealing with the end of 2009 and the beginning of 2010 ^^

Anyway, I hope you "enjoyed" this chapter, and like many of you had seen it coming, there was a spanking... I just had to make Aaron a little more bratty than just escape to a nightclub to deserve that spanking ;)

And the whole point of this scene was one, for Aaron to "almost" come clean to Ivan regarding his past (even if he still hides one important event), and two, to demonstrate the importance of consent and the difference between what Aaron had to suffer around his father who didn't give him a choice and what he's ready to accept from Ivan who does give him the choice to mark spanking as a no-go.

Although set just the following in the timeline, the next chapter will show the other side of Aaron's personality, the one that's more mature and self-confident, and there'll be a lot of funny interactions between Ivan and Aaron that might remind you of another story.

Till then, have a nice week :)