fandomsecrets | [ SECRET POST #2477 ]

[ SECRET POST #2477 ]

⌈ Secret Post #2477 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 036 secrets from Secret Submission Post #354.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ], [ 2 - posted twice ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay I'm thinking the Republican's sexual repression has reached critical mass and they just cannot take having such a sexy, authoritarian black man not feed their constant demands for attention and this is the best way they know how to beg to get turned over Obama's knee for a good spanking.

Now can we turn this into a thread where everyone shares their best ~~spanking~~ tantrum .gifs?

Ooh Mr Obama, oooh!

Hello Republicans, I am here and my shirt also opened? Let's do it. And I will leave my health plan on. *GAZE*

Everywhere: Republicans orgasming, world peace progressing, it was amazing. End.

Someone needs to draw this.

John Boehner stood in the Oval Office, knees trembling, tears pricking his eyes. This was it, he thought. The president's really had it now.

"John. Do you have something you want to tell me?" Obama's severe voice caused John's body to run hot with fear. Or, was that anticipation? Anger? He wasn't sure anymore. It sure as hell wasn't arousal. Nope. No sir-ee.

"Tell you, Mr. President?"

Obama huffed out a laugh and said, "Let's put an end to this little charade, shall we. I know exactly what you are doing."

John started to contradict him-to tell him no, there was no game. No secret agenda. But, the lies died in his throat when the President stood. In his hand he held a wooden paddle.

"Now," said Obama, smirking, "I've had just about enough of you and your house of unruly children. I'm normally not a believer in corporal punishment, but I think I can make an exception for those who try to destroy my America." He thwacked the paddle across his palm for effect.

John felt the effect in his pants.

"B-b-but, Mr. President! You can't do this! It's unconstitutional!"

"Bring it up with the Supreme Court, then."

Obama sat the paddle down on his desk. He stripped off his jacket and draped it across the back of his chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he gave John a wry smile before picking up the paddle again and motioning to come closer. John stood there dumbstruck and unable to work his legs or vocal cords.

"Come on, John. I don't have all day. I have 232 people to get to- at the very least."

John stepped forward, muscles propelling him unconsciously. His thoughts were a blur, but his mind seemed empty. Calm, almost. When his legs hit the desk, he bent over automatically, cheek resting on the cool wood surface.

Obama flipped the tail of John's jacket up over his back and then rested the paddle on the meatiest part of John's ass, getting a feel for where the blows should land.

Even though John felt Obama lift the paddle off his ass, the first strike still came as a surprise. Then there was the second. And the third, and then the realization that the Speaker of the House of Representatives was getting the spanking of his life in the Oval Office from the President of the United States set in. It swooped down his sternum and perched in his belly, it's talons piercing and drawing the blood that rushed straight to his groin.

Boehner started to moan as his cock filled, but his moan turned into a yelp as the twentieth blow came particularly hard. Pressing his swollen cock against the president's desk, John secretly reveled in the sting of the paddle on his ass and the president's stern tone as he counted.

At thirty-one, John felt his ass starting to burn unbearably. His cock surged in response to the pain and he almost came. Tears were streaming out of his eyes and he wasn't quite sure, but he may have been drooling a bit.

At thirty-five, John cried out loud enough to give Obama pause. His outburst tapered off into a whimper and Obama started up again, firmly thwacking him as he counted "Thirty-six."

John felt his knees start to give way, his upper body draped across the desk the only thing supporting him. His cock swelled uncomfortably against his fly and he wanted more than anything for Obama to reach around and free it. He imagined the President's long fingers taking him in hand and stroking, counting the strokes like he counted the strikes of the paddle on John's tender ass. Groaning embarrassingly, the tight heat in his belly roiled and John felt himself coming in his pants.

"Forty-two," Obama said with a finality to his tone. "And," he smacked John's ass again,"One more for good measure."

John stayed there, lain out over the desk for a few moments before straightening up. Turning his back to Obama, he wiped the drool and tears from his face with his jacket sleeve, straightened his suit (checking for obvious wet spots and suspicious white spots) and tried to steel himself to look the man in the face.

When John finally turned, that wry smile was back on Obama's face.

"So, you see, I know what you really want," Obama said, "and I just gave it to you." Obama settled back in to his chair with a casual, satisfied edge that rubbed John... some way. A way that made him burn from the roots of his hair to his toes, a way that made his throbbing ass tingle and his spent cock twitch.

But, John said nothing, did nothing, because he was good at saying nothing, doing nothing. He turned his back on the president and walked out of the Oval Office, ass burning from forty-two smacks with a wooden paddle.

Edited 2013-10-15 02:27 (UTC)