Dan's spanking from his masseur Marcus started without warning—hard, deliberate, right across both cheeks at once. Dan gasped. Marcus didn’t stop. His massive palm rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each smack sharp and loud, the oil making the impacts sting even more. Left cheek. Right cheek. Both together. Upper curve. Lower curve. The fleshy crack-crack-crack filled the small room.
Dan's legs twitched. His breath came in short, embarrassed bursts. Heat flooded his ass, spreading outward in burning waves. Marcus spanked methodically, like he was correcting a naughty teenager instead of a paying client, occasionally pausing to squeeze the reddening flesh before starting again.
By the time Marcus finally stopped, Dan's entire backside felt like it was on fire—bright, glowing red, hot to the touch. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
“Turn over,” Marcus said quietly.
