Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. No part of this story may be reprinted without permission. Copyright by Metredose, 2023, and all rights reserved. Comments and criticism welcome. Metredose@gmail.com
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A Good Man, chapter 3
As Frank predicted, it snowed again overnight, but lightly. Everything was freshly coated in white outside, but Sean only saw it through the small windows of the cabin. He wasn't ready to go outside. His body ached. His legs, his back, his butt. Probably from the trek up the mountainside the day before, he thought, but there was more to it than that. His butt was sore inside, too, perhaps a delayed reaction to its deflowering, or perhaps the result of Frank's increasingly vigorous attentions. It was his own fault. He had urged Frank on. He had begged Frank to be brutal. And now he was paying the price. His cock stirred as he thought of these things, and that was a little achy too. Not surprising, considering it had seen more consecutive action over that past two days than it had seen in several years.
Undaunted by the slight discomfort, it rose up to full stiffness in Sean's briefs, even though he'd had an orgasm only a couple of hours before. It had that reaction whenever Frank was near, and often at the mere thought of the big man. It was crazy. It was teenager stuff, and Sean was no teenager. He was thirty five even if his face and body didn't show it. He wondered what in the hell he was doing, just for a moment, and then the mental image of Frank's big cock came roaring back into his mind, pushing all doubts aside. Whatever was happening to him would happen regardless of worry, regardless of doubt. It was uncontrollable. It was beyond his power to stop it, so why not go with it? Why not enjoy it? These momentary misgivings did him no good because they led absolutely nowhere. He wished they would stop popping up altogether.
The erection contained by his briefs was very firm and very needy. He pushed a hand down his drawers and gripped it, started to gently tug it, but it was no good without Frank. He would wait until both of them were ready for sex again. But what would he do in the meantime? There weren't a whole lot of possibilities. He was clean and dressed. Frank kept his cabin neat, so there was no need to tidy up. What about breakfast? He hadn't eaten and neither had Frank, so far as he knew. The big guy hadn't even mentioned food. Which was strange. Frank struck him as a man of habit, a man who would take his meals at the same time every day, but apparently this notion was wrong. Then it occurred to him, quite suddenly, that Frank might want him to make breakfast.
Sean wondered if it was expected of him. After all, Frank did so much and he did so little. It was really the least he could do. He gave Frank his body, but was it a fair exchange for all Frank had done for him? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything when it came to Frank's expectations of him. But whatever the case happened to be, he was hungry and he was sure Frank was hungry, too. And the idea of feeding his man excited Sean. His man for as long as they were together, and Sean hoped it was for a while longer.
He went into the bedroom he shared with Frank, put on his shoes. Then stepped outside. Frank was nowhere to be seen, nor were there any sounds to be made out. He wasn't at his chicken coop. In the short distance, Sean could see George and two of his hens scratching about, but Frank wasn't nearby. He looked for the truck and realized it was gone. Frank had taken off, probably to clear another tree off the road, but who knew? Who knew how long he would be away? A pang shot through Sean's heart, a pang of longing, but he pushed it down. He was being ridiculous. Frank was his own man and would do what he liked, when he liked, and he didn't have to tell anyone about it. Why should that affect Sean?
Out in the little add on to the cabin, Sean opened the refrigerator and looked through it. He wanted to make something special for Frank. Something unusual and delicious. There were eggs, of course. Butter. Bottled lemon juice. Sean immediately got an idea, an exciting one to him, out there in the middle of nowhere with nothing else to do. He gathered up most of what he needed, and headed back to the house, where he got down to the business of cooking. He was a good cook with the few things he had taken the trouble to learn over the years. He thought he just might manage a couple of platefuls of eggs Benedict and potatoes if he put his mind to it.
The wood cook stove was blazing, and took some getting used to. His biggest concern, as the meal shaped up, was that Frank wouldn't arrive back in time to eat it hot. Sean worried about this more than he should have. He wanted everything to be perfect. The Hollandaise sauce was time consuming and solved the problem. Sean was still whisking it when he heard the roar of Frank's truck approaching. He rushed to get everything finished, worried that he only had toast and not English muffins as called for by tradition, but there was nothing he could do about that. Frank walked inside just as he was loading up the plates.
"Something smells good!" Frank said.
"I made breakfast. Hope that's okay."
"It's more than okay," Frank said. "You made eggs Benedict?"
"Yeah."
"What did I do to deserve that?"
Sean smiled at him.
"I think you know."
"Looks like we're going to eat well today."
In moments the plates were laid out, and they were eating. Frank grunted in approval with each bite, and Sean felt a sneaking elation at these little affirmations. He had done good. He had pleased Frank. And he couldn't stop smiling.
"That was delicious!" Frank said, when he finished.
"It wasn't bad, was it? I'm glad you liked it."
"You're a wonder, Sean."
He was gathering up the plates, and Sean could hear the sound of water running into the sink. Frank was going to do the dishes.
"I'll do that," Sean said.
"Naw, you cooked the meal. It's only fair."
"Please let me," Sean said. "You've done so much for me. I know it's not a big deal, but it makes me feel good to do things for you for a change."
"Well, okay. But if you want help just let me know."
Frank got up and went into the hallway that led to his bedroom, and Sean finished filling the sink. He was scrubbing away at a plate when he heard Frank's footsteps again. He could feel Frank draw closer, and then the big guy wrapped his arms around Sean's waist from behind. Sean turned his head and Frank's lips were waiting. A deep, sensual kiss ensued, and Frank's hands wandered. One slipped into Sean's pants and took ahold of his leaking erection.
Just as quickly it was withdrawn. Frank's hands moved to his backside, gripping and squeezing his buttocks, and then something big and stiff was rubbing against his cheeks, thrusting up against them and across his lower back. It would have taken so little for Frank to hook his fingers into the waistband of Sean's pants, his underwear, and push them down, but Frank stopped.
"We need to talk," he said.
A mood killer for sure, those words. Frank was suddenly very serious and Sean was suddenly frightened. What was there to talk about? What could be more important than making love again? Sean didn't want to know. He said nothing.
"I've been down to your rental car," Frank said.
Sean stiffened. A tension long absent descended into his spine and shoulders. He didn't want to think about the car, didn't want to deal with it. He wasn't sure why but the thought of it scared him. Maybe his mind was avoiding living through that night again, the night of the accident. The car was a reminder of that. But there was more to it. Sean didn't want to think of the outside world at all, and the car was a reminder of that, too.
Frank continued.
"I did some poking around," he said. "Looks like the front end is pretty bad off. Are you insured?"
"Of course," Sean said.
"Good. No problem, then. What belongings are still in there?"
"A suitcase."
"What about your wallet?"
Sean tried to think. He knew his wallet wasn't in any clothes pocket because Frank hadn't found it when he washed them. He had no idea. It wasn't in the suitcase. Maybe it had fallen out when he was looking for his phone that night, after the crash? Or maybe it had fallen out afterwards, when he was down on the ground struggling on that slope? He really didn't want to think about it but there was pressure behind Frank's tone of voice, and Sean knew an answer was required of him.
"I'm not sure."
"That's a problem," Frank said.
"Do we have to worry about it now? We just had breakfast."
"Yes, we have to. It's important. I want to search the car, and I need your help."
Sean's body stiffened even more, and Frank seemed to feel it. He disengaged and backed away.
"Sean, look at me," Frank said.
His voice was stern, and when Sean turned around, he saw that there was no humor in Frank's eyes.
"We need to take care of this, son. Don't you want your stuff back?"
"It can wait."
"No, it can't. The weather is turning, Sean. The air is warm and moist. It's going to rain. And we need to be prepared."
The hard way Frank looked at him unsettled Sean. He could feel tears creeping up on him. He sniffled and his dewy eyes pleaded. But Frank only looked annoyed.
"I don't want to," Sean said.
"It's not about what you want," Frank said. "It's about what needs to be done."
"No!" Sean shouted.
A look of deep anger crossed Frank's face, and he jumped into action. He seized Sean by the shoulders, dragged him over to the couch and across his lap, ass up. Sean's pants and underwear were pushed down in a quick, harsh motion and then Frank's big paw came crashing down on Sean's tender rear end. It happened in a flash, faster than it took for Sean to catch his breath, faster than it took for him to struggle, and then he fell into total shock. Frank spanked him brutally, mercilessly, the sound of hard flesh slapping against soft flesh filling the room like applause. It stung and then it really hurt, the heat and pain rising together. Sean started to struggle but Frank didn't stop until he went still again, until it hurt so much that Sean couldn't stop himself from crying out.
Frank pushed him off roughly, got to his feet. He went for the door, but turned before he reached it.
"Get your ass in gear, boy. I want you dressed and out in my truck in five minutes. Don't keep me waiting."
Quickly, Sean wiped away his tears. There was no time to think. There was no time to lose. His aching butt didn't stop him from rushing around the cabin, searching for the boots and large jacket Frank had lent him. He dressed fast and was outside before even four minutes were up. The truck was roaring, throwing steam from the exhaust, and Frank waited with the same stern look on his face. Sean got into the truck and off it went, through the tracks it had made before in the heavy snow. Slow and steady, Frank made his way, unconcerned, it seemed, by any obstacle, any potential misfortune. He pulled into a slow stop when the tree lodged car came into sight.
In the cold light of day, things looked very different than they had in the darkness of that first night. Frank hopped out of the truck, went straight for the bed, and was pulling out a ladder and shovel by the time Sean's feet hit the ground. There was something reassuring about Frank getting right back into it after what had happened, but there was something frightening about it, too. Because Frank never stopped. He was a man of action, and a man who let nothing stand in his way. It made Sean feel small, like less of a man because he knew he could never measure up to Frank. And that was humbling. It was humbling that he was still upset about being spanked by another man when for Frank it was already well in the past. It was like he had forgotten it even happened.
The slope that ran down from the road didn't seem so steep as it had the other night, nor did the car seem so far off the ground. As he'd guessed, the back end of the car was still on the road. The front was lodged on a limb only about five or six feet from the base of the trunk, which sprouted from the slope below the road. Frank was tying a rope to the trunk of another tree, and when he was satisfied, he rappelled down. He had his shovel, and when he found the spot he judged to be right, he started digging and chipping away the ice and snow, creating a flat area on which to set the ladder. When he was ready, he had Sean feed the ladder down to him, and then tried to set it up. After more digging, and more adjustments, he tried again.
"Seems pretty stable," he called up to Sean. "You ready to climb up?"
Sean was anything but ready. He was terrified. It all came rushing back to him. Even in the daylight, he knew the car was wobbly. He knew it could come crashing down on him, or on Frank, or both of them.
"I'm not so sure about this," he said.
"What aren't you sure about?"
"The car could fall on us. It's unsteady."
"Sean, would I let you go up there if I thought there was a risk?"
"No."
"Right. I have tested the car. It's not coming down without an earthquake."
"I'm still scared."
"Don't be. I'll have your back. The car isn't going anywhere and neither is the ladder, if I'm holding it. We need to get your suitcase and your wallet. There's no other way."
Sean hesitated. He just stood there.
"Do you trust me?" Frank asked.
"I think so."
"Then prove it. If I was the lighter one, I'd go up. But I'm not. I need you to do it. And I know you can."
Frank's voice was warm and encouraging. Whatever anger he'd felt before seemed to have completely vanished.
"Just give me a minute."
"Take all the time you need."
After a couple of minutes, Sean steeled himself. He said a little prayer and started to descend with the rope, the same way Frank had. When he reached him, Frank gave his butt a little pat of approval. He stepped onto the ladder. It was stable, but for how long?
"Go slow," Frank said. "If it gets wobbly, you're to come right back down. But I think you're good."
Sean climbed, and it wasn't so far up. A few rungs and he was there. He pulled on the back door, and it swung open. Then he climbed back down so Frank could reposition the ladder closer to the opening. Sean took a deep breath when it was time, then climbed up again. It was darker inside the car but he could see his suitcase. He climbed another rung, reached in, and then slowly dragged his suitcase to the edge of the seat.
"Great job, Sean. You're almost there. When you lift it up, go slowly. Lean down, if you can, and hand it to me."
It worked as Frank said it would, though there were a few unsteady moments, especially when Sean handed the suitcase down.
"Got her! Perfect, Sean! Now look for your wallet. Shit, I should've thought to bring a flashlight."
The wallet was not on the backseat, nor on the floor beneath it. Sean feared it was lost forever. He imagined the hassle of replacing everything in there. His license, his credit cards. He could never get to Canada without it, and maybe that was for the best. It was a weak, selfish thought, but he wasn't sure that he was up to any more adventure. He climbed back down, supported by Frank.
"No wallet," he said.
"Must be in the front seat."
"Maybe. Or it could have fallen out somewhere out here. Like my phone."
"We gotta check. Climb back up to the road and I'll bring up your suitcase."
After doing just that, Frank set to digging again, lower down, closer to where the driver's seat was above. When it was time, Sean went back down, then mounted the ladder. Thankfully, that car door was already open, so it would only take one trip, though it was a longer one, and more wobbly. But his trust in Frank's ability to support him, to keep him from danger, was strong. The wallet was right there, right on the driver's seat. It must, he thought, have eased out of his pocket while he sat. It was a relief but Sean wasn't wholly pleased. He knew not why. Their mission was successful but success left him cold.
Back down on the ground, Frank squeezed his shoulder.
"I knew you could do it," he said.
Sean trudged back up to the road. Frank dragged the ladder up with him, and they were very quickly on the way back to the cabin. Although Sean wasn't really afraid of Frank, there was a new distance between them. He'd thought he'd known Frank so well, but the sudden violence the man had displayed in the form of the pitiless spanking gave him pause. He didn't know what to make of it all. He no longer knew what to make of Frank or what it was that was happening between them. He knew he enjoyed Frank's company, and he knew he enjoyed having sex with the big man, but the spanking was something he could not process.
They went indoors, but had little to say to each other. Frank went back outside after a while and stayed there. Sean finished the dishes and then opened his suitcase. His clothes were fine. No funny smell. He rearranged everything to keep himself busy, brushed his teeth with his own toothbrush and tried hard not to think but his mind kept coming back to it. That feeling of being handled, and handled so easily. The knowledge that he was, in those moments, physically helpless against Frank. The furious, painful slaps themselves, the way they burned and made him cry. Frank had made him feel like a child and he realized his reaction was like that of a child as well. Compliant, but resentful. He was still resentful and for some reason that was the hardest part to take. Because he only wanted to love Frank, and he wanted Frank to love him back. He didn't know if what they'd built together so quickly could survive.
It was well after dark when Frank returned, and by that time Sean was tired. His emotions, his tangled thoughts had exhausted him. When Frank mentioned dinner, Sean said he wasn't hungry, and he asked Frank if he could sleep in the spare bedroom that night. A look of sadness came into the big man's eyes, but only for a moment. He said it was fine, and then started to prepare a meal. In bed, Sean just dozed but sleep wouldn't come. The cabin grew fragrant with whatever Frank was cooking, and he regretted skipping dinner. He regretted being so stubborn and so sullen. But he couldn't get over it. Not until about an hour later, when Frank tapped gently at his door.
He answered, and Frank came in.
"Can we talk?" Frank said.
"Yes. I think we should."
"I know you're angry with me. It's okay. But I think we might make a go of getting you up to Canada tomorrow, and I wanted to let you know."
Sean was silent. In the darkness, he struggled not to cry.
"What if I don't want to go?" he said, after a while.
Frank sighed. For Sean, this was reassuring, comforting.
"I'd like you to stay, Sean. You know I would. But we both know you can't. We've known it all along."
"I'm not sure I can just step back into my old life."
"It's only been a couple of days. You'll be fine. We can't hide out here forever."
"Why did you spank me?"
Frank switched on the light. He went to the bed and sat down next to Sean.
"Because you needed it. I am a strong believer in corporal punishment when necessary."
"But I'm not a child," Sean said.
"You were acting like one."
"Is that how you see me? A little kid?"
"No. You're a man, Sean. But I'm the man of the house. When you're in my home you will abide by my rules. If I feel you need a spanking I'm damn well going to give you one."
This was said with that same sternness of voice as when the spanking first happened, but this time Sean had a very different reaction. His penis, soft as a baby's, suddenly surged into a rapid, paralyzing erection. He almost gasped at the shift.
"You're in charge," Sean whimpered.
"Yes."
"What you say goes."
"Yes."
"You're than man."
"Mmm hmm."
"I'm the wife."
"That's right."
Sean was shaking. Everything was clear to him now. He finally understood.
An unsteady hand emerged from the blankets, moving forward slowly until the fingers drifted over the steely hardness at Frank's lap. A moment later Frank was up, lifting Sean out of the foreign bed. Sean was carried across the hall and set down in his rightful place, in Frank's own bed, large and warm, and ripe with the unmistakable scent of the man. He was pulling off Sean's underpants, pulling off his own clothes. Naked and on the bed, he slicked himself quickly and pulled Sean on to him. Frank took him to the hilt, took him to maximum depth, over and over again, tenderly at first but building in intensity. He pulled out, flipped Sean onto his back, then took him again as he lifted up his legs. Their eyes met, locked together, and Frank bored into him hard and his big, rooting cock sent Sean's load flying across his belly. Frank slammed in and out, growling as Sean shot, and Sean knew his asshole convulsed around his man, knew he was giving pleasure even as he received it. Frank pushed in all the way and let his own load fly. Way up inside it shot, Sean knew, coating everything pink with silvery whiteness, and it was welcomed by his clenching hole, which pulled the seed in ever deeper. So deep that it might have touched his heart.
The rain came in the night, as Frank had foretold. It beat hard against the little cabin in the woods, melting all in its path. Frank's sleeping form held Sean closer than ever.