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An old high school couple reunite at a hotel.

"Move your hand," Russ ordered.

Gary rubbed the injured area.

"Now," Russ commanded, "or the next ones will be worse."

Reluctantly, Gary removed his hand, tucking his arm back under his chest.

Russ smiled. Every time Gary obeyed, he was that much closer to total subservience. To reward Gary's obedience, Russ made the next couple of swats much lighter, but they still elicited a cry of startled pain from his victim.

Russ paused, massaging Gary's ass. His buttocks were bright red, with swirls of purple and black and blue blotches. The colors alone kept Russ hard. He was proud of his handiwork. He rarely spoke to someone he spanked during the spanking itself. Lectures came before or after, not during, a spanking session. However, he decided, it wouldn't hurt to ask a simple question. "Are you enjoying your spanking?" he asked.

Gary ignored him.

Russ brought the paddle's blade down savagely upon Gary's upturned buttocks.

"Ow!"

"Answer me, bitch," Russ ordered.

"Yes," Gary admitted.

Russ smacked his ass with the paddle, and Gary lunged forward, crying out. "For your sake, I hope you answered truthfully," he said, "because there's plenty more to enjoy." He punctuated his words with another swing of the paddle, and Gary yelped.

Once more, Russ paused to admire his handiwork. A nice pattern of light bruises was beginning to emerge upon Gary's battered buttocks. The undersides were decorated with small blotches of bruised flesh, and the skin on either side of the cleavage was adorned with larger contusions. In one or two areas, however, Gary's bottom was becoming too dark with the trapped blood of broken capillaries. It was time to take a break.

Russ gave Gary's rump a light slap with his hand. "Move your ass. I'm getting up."

Gary slid his body to the right, found the floor with his feet, and hoisted himself erect.

Russ rose. "Stay where you are," he commanded Gary. "Don't move."

Russ went into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and, a few seconds later, Gary heard him urinating.

A minute later, Russ returned, carrying the plastic cup he'd removed from the plastic wrap in which it had been packaged. It was one of the several that motels left in motel bathrooms for guests' use.

The cup contained a pale yellow liquid, Gary noticed.

Russ crossed the bedroom and handed the container to Gary. "Drink this," he ordered.

Gary looked at the light amber liquid. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"You don't ask questions," Russ told him. "Drink it."

Gary frowned. "It looks like piss," he complained. Gingerly, he sniffed the contents of the cup. His frown deepened. "It smells like piss, too."

"It is piss," Russ admitted, "my piss."

Gary set the cup down on the night table. "I'm not drinking piss," he declared.

"Drink it!" Russ demanded.

"Drink it yourself."

Russ stepped past Gary. He retrieved his implements from the night table, stowing the belts and paddle in the overnight bag he'd used to bring them into the room. Then, he started dressing.

Gary looked concerned. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"But what about the rest of the spankings?"

Russ had put on his shirt. Now, he picked up his underpants.

"What about the other spankings?" Gary repeated.

Russ paused. "Are you going to drink the piss?"

"No."

Russ shrugged. "Then, I'm going home." He pulled on his underwear and picked up his trousers.

"You said you'd respect my limits," Gary reminded him.

"I am," Russ returned. "You don't want to drink the piss, don't drink it." He tugged on his trousers.

"Piss isn't sanitary," Gary said.

"It's sterile."

Gary looked doubtful. "Is it?"

"Germ free."

Russ could see that Gary was debating the issue of whether he should drink the piss.

In a moment, Russ would know just how submissive Gary was and whether it was worth continuing their association.

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