♥ Site recommended story ♥
Hot new spanking fiction by special guest author Sukemnsee – strictly over 18s only!
Like many, I have a monthly subscription to a major gym chain. Unlike many I do use it all year round, and not just in January while new year’s resolutions are fresh in mind. It is a very busy place and despite them cramming the floor space with as much equipment as possible, there is often a wait to use the machines. As a result I time my gym visits to avoid the crush and resort to swimming if it seems too busy. Whichever I use, I like to dwell in the spa pool for a while at the end of a vigorous session though of course I have a brief shower if going direct from sweaty exercise. The spa pool runs in a cycle of about six minutes with about four minutes of that being highly agitated water.
Today as I got in, mid agitation, it was quite busy so I was positioned quite close to another guy. As the calm waters returned most of the spa bathers got out. The guy next to me rolled over and was now very close to me. He smiled and said hello, saying he loved to relax in the spa. Being in the spa is sometimes like being on public transport, it’s quite rare for strangers to engage in conversation. He had a nice smile and was a good ten years younger than me. We continued the conversation and I found out how long he planned to stay in the spa and that he would head for work directly after. I was in no rush so I decided to linger.
By now our bodies were surprisingly close to eaach other considering there was no pressure on space. As the agitation cycle resumed, he said it was great to relax and I agreed and I spread my arm out and he rested against it. I rubbed against him cautiously. He didn’t resist and then I found his hand was wandering behind me. This continued until the waters calmed. At the next agitation cycle my hand was on his thighs until he pushed it onto the front of his trunks. There was a prize in sight! The water billowed around, and I was able to pleasure him during subsequent agitation cycles, feeling him grow and stiffen all the time. I finally desisted just before the final agitation cycle to allow him the opportunity to compose himself before climbing out of the pool.
Some time later after showering and drying myself carefully, I left the changing area and headed for the complex’s exit. I was intercepted by an older gentlemen in company uniform. From his badge, I could see that he was the Manager. It struck me as rather unusual to have older staff in what was usually a young environment. He asked me to go to his office with him. The office was private but very noisy as you could clearly hear music from the various sound systems used in the gym. He told me they were clamping down on voyeurs and asked me to lay my phones and tablet on his desk for him to check my recent photos. I complied knowing there was nothing recent to catch his interest. Maybe he was just fulfilling a quota check to satisfy company protocols, I reasoned to myself. One little embarrassing thing was that my tablet was picking up wi-fi and so frequently flashed up Tumblr notifications, showing adult group names and group descriptions. I wasn’t sure whether he paid them any attention, but I certainly did.
He then said it was his turn to show me some photos. There were a couple of stills of me in the cafe area and he commented that I always chose a place to have my drink where nobody could overlook my screen and that he felt that was suspicious behaviour. Then he showed me some video images of me in the spa pool. He said they were captured in manual not scan mode. Those wretched cameras captured my recent activity and neighbourly games far more clearly than anyone else in the pool could ever have seen. The manager told me he could not have clearer evidence of my activity and he noted that there were no signs of consternation on the faces of my new friend and I. He said that action was required!
I worried immediately that he would call the Police. My standing in the community would be worthless if charges were brought. It was hard to know what he intended. Would he just be cancelling my membership? Could it be both? I am sure he enjoyed watching me squirm and all the time my tablet was still on his desk showing those dubious Tumblr notifications.
He looked me squarely in the eyes and said I looked like I did not want the Police called in. I agreed, and pleaded for them not to become involved. I said I was sorry. He responded that if he had a pound for every one of the athletes he had coached in a long career that had said sorry, then he would feel quite rich. Athletes learnt to behave sooner or later, some quicker, some longer, they just needed the treatment, he said. In my embarrassment I agreed that I needed the treatment, although I really had no idea what it entailed. I was feeling desperate and fed up with all the constant music pounding away. He smiled and stared at me further.
He then demanded I get totally naked. This was a shock, but I felt no option other than to comply. I felt bashful as my not so fit torso and then the rest of my body was revealed to him. He told me to touch my toes. I struggled to do this, only getting as far comfortably as grasping my ankles. I felt incredibly vulnerable. Surely he would not..? Then out of nowhere he lashed some form of leather strap across my bottom. I gasped from shock and the sudden feeling of pain. It must have left an imprint on my pale skin. I tried not to cry out as he applied further strokes.
Time after time he laid that strap fiercely into my bottom till I felt there was nowhere he had not covered. I was groaning all the time as this was way more severe than I had felt I had volunteered for. I felt soundly punished. I tried to distract myself with images of him doing the same to fit young athletes, their firm buns being chastened by his strap, but each time he laid that flexible strap on me he seared my fleshy mounds. He knew what he was doing and he obviously had loads of experience, but I wondered just how far he would go in blasting my rear. It just had to be a purple mass by now rather than just majorly red. I was grateful that the music was at least masking the noise of my thrashing. I was determined to hold on to some dignity but it was holding on by a mere thread.
Eventually he had stopped and told me to stand. I was quite giddy and leaned against the wall for support. I caught my my reflection in the mirror tiled wall opposite. My bottom was deeply red but intact, swollen but not mutilated, completely scorched through his expert application of that strap. I gazed back at him, and saw the brown leather strap still dangling from his hand. It didn’t really look like a dangerous implement, but I now knew that it was. I was allowed to get dressed and warned that my session for today was complete. I was sent on my way with an instruction to behave or face further consequences. I left meekly. wondering whether he had even broken into a sweat as he had beaten me.
As a regular gym attender, I know most of the faces working there, especially the younger ones manning the reception desk. I walked gingerly past them, feeling my inflamed bottom every step that I took, hoping that those youngsters had no idea of what had happened. One of the lads gave me a broader smile than usual. Could he have known? Or was I over-sensitive? Or might even he know from bitter experience what that older manager was capable of? I left courteously but knowing that I needed to lie down flat and soon, and to reflect on what an expert I had encountered that night. And face the conflicting emotions of whether this was a lesson or a new desire! Future visits would determine whether I had seen the last of that ex-coach and his fiendish strap or not.
D I S C L A I M E R
All characters appearing in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real businesses or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Story © MMXVIII by Sukemnsee and used here by very kind permission of the author. Self portrait photo by Rod Cayenne © MMXVII.
All rights reserved.
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