eXpect eXciting eXcursions
Stories from the Kink Realm
(PART 1)
SPANKSGIVING DAY 7
Mel had been working at the Hotel Kimura for two and a half weeks and he already had a nickname. “Freckles”, by all means, was a compromise between him and the staff and much more dignifying than their initial pet name for him. It wasn’t all that favorable, but being the youngest and literal red-headed stepchild of siblings who roughhoused and taunted as a form of affection had annealed him. Despite his 5’, chicken-limbed stature, not even the wind could knock him down. The thing that got him through the thankless days and sore-footed nights was the knowledge that this job was temporary, just something to pay for a quarter of school.
The only true challenge was the Kimura’s sampler of insufferable guests. They were the usual suspects one would find at these establishments: property destructors, negligent pet-owners and entitled so-called “elites” with no acclaim of note. Guests would even blame the hotel for luggage that was lost by an airline. This is all to say nothing of the grifters who tried to get one over the single star hotel, and often succeeded at the surrender of the feeble manager.
What was worse, every reservation at Kimura came with a special “courtesy”. If guests were dissatisfied with any service, they were fully allowed to “discipline” the bellhops, treating them as they saw fit as whipping boys and girls on the hotel’s behalf.
“Damn, I’m sorry, man,” Mel pitied a fellow bellhop, Randy, who had gotten a paddling from a businessman in room 2B. He offered him a cup of fruit punch, “What did you do?”.
“His gazpacho came cold”. Randy tried to sit on the breakroom’s tangy couch, but sitting on its cushions was similar to sitting on the stones of the hotel’s drive-up.
Mel paused to think as he poured Randy some stale fruit punch, “Isn’t gazpacho supposed to come cold?”
“That’s what I’m sayin’ man!”
Another bellhop, Crane, sauntered in, rubbing his butt after a wicked caning, “You fools lickin’ your wounds, too?”. He snatched a plastic cup from the counter and held it out to Mel’s fruit punch pour.
Randy decided to remain standing, bearing the smog stench that filled the upper atmosphere of the room, “Not Freckles. He’s avoided it so far”.
Crane snorted, “Is that so? Maybe we should give him an initiation?”.
Randy and Crane, with the help of everyone else in the breakroom, bum rushed Mel and bent him over Crane’s raised knee. They each gave him a light, almost fake slap on the seat of his purple uniform pants. At one point, they began to count them out as if it were his birthday, “17…18!”. Once it was over, they let him go and all laughed.
“You took your first one very well!”, Randy snickered as he patted Mel on the back.
“Yeah,” Mel rolled his eyes, “I’m not gonna stay here long enough to have that actually happen to me!”
Crane took Mel on the shoulder and smiled, a bit wickedly, “Sure, kid. But in reality, you’re on borrowed time. Kiss your butt goodbye”.
Of course, Mel’s time would come one sleepy, sunny morning.
…
The overbearing, bright sun was no match for the nippy air outside the hotel. To accommodate for the chill, Eros grew out his squared sideburns and opted to wear a turtleneck, albeit without sleeves. He was nothing if not stylistically consistent. He stepped from his taxi and sneered at the building. The mauve architecture with orange accents nauseated him, but couldn’t be choosy about where he was staying for the night, he just had to lay low.
His business was to infiltrate the James Thurston Honors ceremony by impersonating a big shot agent and then flee with one of the awards, a “Thursty” made of pure platinum, under the cover of a blackout of his own machination. He often utilized other allies for this 20th century technological trickery, but his favor with contacts with this skillset had dried up. Thus, he needed to teach himself. The process made his neck, his arms and his mind tense. These next few hours until the ceremony would be his first chance in weeks to relax. He desperately sought a means to decompress, bringing his satchel of implements on the off-chance he'd have some play time or come across some fine meat to play with.
Then he spotted a tiny bellboy with freckles, clearing the yellow maple leaves from the hotel's driveway.
A devious look crept up on his face, "Look at you. With that ginger hair and that little purple suit you match this place perfectly!".
The bellboy raised his head cautiously, "Excuse me, sir? I mean…this is my uniform".
Eros was struck by the boy’s saffron eyes. He took off his purple, circular glasses and placed them on the boy’s face, "There. It matches your uniform. You actually look quite good in glasses".
The bellboy’s face perked up, "Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Like a nerd".
The bellboy bowed his head once more, dismayed, "Oh, of course sir".
As the boy knelt back down to his work, Eros smacked him on his back, "I'm just messing with you, kid. Get my bags from the taxi, would ya?". He sashayed into the lobby, further unimpressed by the hotel. The interior looked ostentatious and irritating with the same unpleasant palette of purple and orange; like a Fanta haunted mansion.
He shook off his annoyance and directed his focus to the tall, if rather lanky manager behind the front counter. Upon checking in, the manager gave him the rundown of what the hotel had to offer, "There is a continental breakfast, a downtown shuttle that comes every hour and our discipline courtesy".
Eros perked his ear, "A what courtesy? Go on…". Looking through the mirror behind the front counter, he watched the freckled bellboy lug in his bulky satchel and sturdy suitcase. Eros formed a plan as the manager spoke.
"If you are disappointed or offended with anything any of our staff do, we give you full credence to punish one of our porters as you see fit! Per your discretion, of course".
"Of course! And the bellhops must agree to this?"
"Why it’s company policy, of course".
"Well that's fair, of course".
"Of course, sir!"
Eros shook the bellboy’s shoulder when he finally arrived at the counter, "But that won't be necessary. In the short amount of time I've been here, Freckles here has shown me nothing but exceptional service. Treat this one well".
The manager cooed haughtily, "Why that's wonderful, sir! And you even got his name right. How droll!"
Eros mimicked his laugh, "How droll indeed!"
…
Mel and his guest rode the elevator in silence. He couldn't quite get a reading on this dark, tall man. He was imposing without even saying a word and undoubtedly handsome. He didn't seem to breath a gust of air yet he sucked the wind out of Mel. Just dangling a cigarette from his cool mouth, even unlit, made Mel flush.
Eros knew what he wanted to do with this bellboy, but he wouldn't dare clue him in. Years of gambling had perfected his poker face. Without a single touch, he could feel the boy's butt clench in confusion. He decided to fuck with him some more, "So, you in school, kid?".
"Um…yeah. I'm studying linguistics".
Eros cocked his eyebrows and began lighting the cigarette, "Wow. I imagine there's a lotta jobs out there for a linguistics major". He puffed some smoke.
"Not really, sir".
Without a word or hesitation, Eros slipped off the bellboy's hat and used it for his ashtray, “Well don’t sound so dismayed, kid. I believe in you. Even shrimps swim upstream”. He then crumpled the hat and put it in his pocket.
Mel's eyes were widened in horror. A chilly sweat ran down his face and all the way to his briefs. “That’s gonna come out of my paycheck”, Mel thought.
Once the elevator reached Eros' floor, his suite was just around the corner.
All Mel had to do was walk to the door and into the room without falling on his face. Then he would be done with this imposing man. He opened the room, held the door for his guest, and followed in after him. He held his head up high before a fine, wood-sole loafer collided with his sneaker.
Mel spilled across the rug and into the suite, followed by the entrails of the satchel. A collection of paddles, spoons, straps, brushes, whips and rods made from materials like wood, rubber, metal, plastic and leather splayed across the floor in a fine display. Mel dared not look up at Eros. Without taking a cold second, he gathered the implements together and scooped them back into the satchel. He locked it, picked it up and gently placed it on the bed of the suite. Still without looking at Eros, he said “Have a good day sir” and tried to rush out of the room.
“You better be turning to close that door, because you’re not going anywhere”.
Mel stopped and closed the door.
“Lock it, too, dipshit”.
His heart leapt. He did as he was told.
“I gotta check that you didn’t break anything. Get in here and stand right next to me. Like any little kid, I can’t keep you outta my sight for a second”. Eros pointed to his side, with the same attitude as he would wield a belt.
Mel carried himself over to the side of the bed as Eros laid out each and every instrument, observing each one before laying it on the sheet.
Mel had forgotten how to swallow. He couldn’t help but ask “Is everything okay, sir?”. For the first time in the last few minutes, he glanced over to Eros.
Eros said nothing and didn’t look at him one bit.
After what seemed like thirty implements were laid out and accounted for, Eros turned towards Mel. He took the kid’s shoulder and forced him to face him as well. His arms and his demeanor were crossed, “Do you have anything to say to me, bellboy?”
Mel finally gulped, “What is all that stuff for, if I could ask sir?”
Eros connected his pointer finger to the boy’s chest, “You’ll find out”. He lifted his finger away, flicking Mel in the nose as his hand went.
Mel’s eyes narrowed, “You…tripped me…”.
Eros smirked, “My implements seem okay, but you’re a clumsy young man; a very clumsy young man”. He grabbed Mel by the shoulder and gave him a nice squeeze. He said with shallow breath, “We’re gonna have to take care of that”.
“But…but…that’s not fair! You tripped me!”
Eros covered Mel’s mouth with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, “It’s not about ‘fair’, Freckles. I’m bigger than you, I’m stronger and above all I’m your customer. The customer is always right, especially if I tell your boss that you broke my brush”.
Mel pushed Eros off of him, “That’s crazy, I never broke your damn brush!”.
Eros lifted a long wooden brush from the bed and waved it in the air, “Nah, I think ya will, though”. Using his own leg, Eros pulled Mel’s feet apart then twisted his upper body behind and over the boy’s back. Wrapping his muscular arm around Mel, Eros held the brush in his other hand. He began without hesitation, SCHWOOCK! SCHWOOCK! SCHWOOCK!
“What the hell?! Stop!”
Eros went full force over Mel’s uniform pants. Even through his layers of clothes, Mel could feel the sting of the dreaded bathbrush. He tried to kick and stamp his foot free, but Eros held him firmly in place. SCHWOOCK! SCHWOOCK! SCHWOONK!
“Ah yeah, I can hear it, you’re breaking my brush!” SCHWOOCK! SCHWOOCK! SCHWOOCK! “Oh no, Freckles, what’re ya doin’?”, he laughed.
SCH-nap! The round end of the brush broke off and skipped across the room.
Eros smacked his teeth as he pocketed the handle, “Ah man, what did you do that for?” He turned Mel over, pressed the boy’s cheeks and forced him to look up at his smug face, “That hurts me so much!”
“Oh really? It hurts you, sir?”
“Yup! And I think it's time to enact the punishment package. That's what it's called, right?”
Mel gave Eros a look of disdain, "I'm not doing this". He began to walk out of the room, rubbing his sore butt, but Eros immediately snatched his wrist.
“Mm-mm, that’s not how this goes”. Eros dove his head underneath Mel and lifted him into the air, draping him over his shoulder as a milkmaid would carry milk, “You’re supposed to say ‘Oh please don’t, sir! I’ll do anything’, and I’ll say ‘Anything?’, and then I whoop your butt to high heaven!”.
Mel tried his best to kick free, “Let me go, creep!”
Eros dodged his head, “Whoop! Feisty little bugger right here, come now!”. He then maneuvered Mel down his front and into a headlock, executing a rough noogie on the poor bellboy’s head. His hand trailed down to the collar of Mel’s uniform jacket and pulled the zipper all the way down. He then stripped the jacket off, keeping hold of Mel by the chest of his white t-shirt before finally spinning him around and pressing him against the wall.
Eros held him there as he cleared an area of the bed. “Stop wriggling, I’m making a spot for ya!”. He yanked Mel backward, spun him around and pushed him onto the mattress. The boy flopped on his belly, his sea green briefs peeking from under his pants. Eros took no time to yank the waistband and place Mel onto his knees.
Mel kicked his little feet in agitation, “Let me go!”.
Eros promptly smacked Mel’s ass, “Shut up and take it, boy!”, and unbuttoned his pants. “You know, I said my implements seem okay, but there’s only one way to be sure”, he shook his head in faux disappointment as he lowered Mel’s pants and briefs, “You’re gonna have to feel ‘em all”.
As Mel tried to get up, Eros collapsed his leg over Mel’s and held him down at the back, “Oh, you wanna really fight? You really don’t know who you’re messin’ with. Calm down, little guy, it’ll be over soon”.
Over the course of an hour, Eros proceeded to give Mel five hard licks of each and every implement. Even the thuddier instruments had a sharp sting to them in the way Eros swung them. What was worse, Mel couldn’t shield his face. Whenever he noticed Mel trying to shove his face in the mattress, Eros turned his head to the suite’s gilded mirror across from the bed. He was forced to see the agony twist across his face with every terrible sting.
The most excruciating sensations came from a leather prison strap. The force of the strap pushed the wind through Mel’s body, jutting him forward a bit. Swack! Swack! Swack! The monotonous, burning smacks of leather sent shivers up his spine. Swack! Swack! Even though a wide variety of implements reached his butt, the only marks that remained days after were the boxy red stripes laid by the strap. It looked as if someone put red tape all across his bare bottom then ripped it.
Other all-stars of the day included a flogger whose tresses knocked down on Mel's ass like wet towels; a paddle with a slicing sting; a bathbrush with swats so heavy that Mel could feel the bruises as they developed; and a thin paddle with a gruesome curse. When it first struck Mel’s bottom, it hurt decently. However, he wouldn’t feel the full sting of the paddle’s impact until days after this encounter. For a full hour, Mel would wince and gasp in pain as if he were still being spanked, but it was only the aftershocks.
Once Eros finished with the final instrument, a single-tail that left exquisite little pinches , Mel thought it safe to rub his bumpy, glazed ass. Yet when his hand reached back, his wrist became caught in Eros' grip once again. "Nah, I got this". He forced Mel’s hand back on the mattress and climbed aboard, taking a seat on Mel's lower back.
The boy collapsed with a groan as Eros propped his feet next to Mel's thighs and began caressing his glowing red butt. The caressing quickly turned to clamping on Mel's behind; claw-like full hand pinches that gave Mel a whole new world of suffering.
"Aaagghh!", the bellboy’s cries sounded more like a song, at least to Eros' ear.
"Oh shut up, you know you like it”, Eros gave a light tap of the left cheek in the middle of caressing, “Tell me you like it, loser, or I'll put you over my knee and do it all over again!"
"I like it–nnngggh–so much, sir!", Mel curled his toes as if his feet could grip on the bed and pull him free.
"Ah, thank you. I try!" Eros straddled the bellhop's torso and before laying a few more hard smacks on each cheek, he leveled his hands above them to feel the radiating heat. Eros swung his leg over and bounced his own ass on the mattress. The jolts of the bounce ran up and down Mel's weary body.
Eros forced Mel up by the arm and dragged him across the room to the mirror. The boy’s pants lagged at his ankles. If Eros weren’t pushing him along, he might have tripped out of them. Eros got behind Mel and held the boy’s arms behind his back. He smiled in utter calmness, as if they were posing for a portrait. Several heads below Eros' chin was Mel, with his crumpled undershirt and tousled red hair. With each tug of his arm, Mel grew more and more tired of Eros' act, growing from pain to irritation to quiet fury. He tried to break from the imposing figure's grip, but Eros paid him no mind.
"Look at this Kodak moment. Decades from now we're gonna look back at this and laugh…er, at least I will. I mean, look at how puny and pathetic you are. What made this day so fun is that it was so easy. You're natural born meat, bellboy.”
Mel tried to break from the imposing figure's grip, but Eros was undeterred, “Oh, you wanna bop me one? You wanna act big, bad and tough? Well well well, I'd love to see you try. No really, I'm shaking in my boots…!".
TO BE CONTINUED