The newest collection of Ace Regent spanking stories is here! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE: FOUR TALES OF M/M PUBLIC SPANKING is available at Amazon.
To celebrate, here's an excerpt from "Coffee Boy" the story of an overly-enthusiastic intern who gets caught by the boss looking at porn on a work computer.
Marcus went back to his seat, ready to send Spaulding’s Home Design a “we’ll get back to you as soon as possible” email. Something was wonky with his computer. He got Steve to investigate, but after some futzing around and muttered curses, Steve pushed his chair back. “Use the boss’s. He’s still at lunch, so— Oh no. You little fucker.” Steve stood suddenly. Marcus’s stomach jumped—Was Steve talking about him? But then he watched Steve’s gaze follow a fly across the room.
“Use…use Ju—Mr. Martinez’s? Computer?”
“Don’t have a hernia, kid. It’s just a computer. I’m not giving you a pair of his undies to sniff.”
Marcus flushed. Was his crush on Juan that obvious? “Okay. Um…I’ll just…” Steve had already snatched up his flyswatter and was off after the fly.
Marcus rose and headed toward Juan’s office, glancing back over his shoulder, just in case this was a prank and they were all laughing at him. But everyone was working quietly.
He entered the small room and started to close the door. Stopped. Left it partway open. Sat at the big wooden desk, weirdly turned on by the fact that his ass was in the same chair Juan sat in every day. He pulled up the company email. He always tried to add something a little personal to each template email he sent, since Black Cat relied on word of mouth, but he didn’t know much about Spaulding. So he Googled them.
As he typed in “Spa—” Google automatically filled in “SpankedtoTears.com”
The URL was just…there, in the browser bar. Like this was a site that got visited on this computer all the time. Hitting any key would delete the highlighted text, and then he could finish typing “—ulding Home Design.” Like he was meant to. Like a good intern would.
Instead, he hit Enter.
A screen came up. SPANKED TO TEARS. Real boys. Real punishments. A pop-up window asked if he was eighteen, and behind it, images of young men bent over, their red asses on display, their legs spread.
His heart thudded, and his throat went dry. He glanced through the half-open door, then back at the screen.
No. No, Marcus. Absolutely not.
The cursor hovered over Yes, I’m 18.
He couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
It was inappropriate. It was unprofessional. And what about those horror stories you heard about people’s computer screens getting frozen on porn?
But this URL had come up. On Juan’s computer.
He clicked, and entered the site.
Lines of stills across the screen. Each narrative depicting a young man getting punished. Sam—blond, twenty-one, over an older man’s lap. Spanked first over the seat of his jeans, then over a pair of snow-white briefs. Then on the bare, his hairless ass pinker in each still. Nineteen-year-old Cody, light brown skin, black curls, belted over the kitchen counter. Mousy Dylann, paddled over an office desk very much like Juan’s, his face contorted with pain. At the end of each collection was a close-up of the boy in tears, and a short video clip.
Marcus checked eight hundred times to make sure the volume was off, then clicked on Dylann’s clip.
He watched, enthralled, as Dylann struggled and squirmed over the desk while a man in a suit smacked his ass with a wooden paddle. His tiny ass flexed and dimpled with each blow, turning red fast. Marcus imagined Dylann’s whimpers, imagined the spanker’s stern voice telling him to hold still. He left the clip playing and went to the computer’s browser history. Discovered that this site had been visited every few days for the last month.
He went back to Dylann, who was in tears now. The camera switched back and forth between his tear-streaked face and his scorched ass. Again and again the paddle fell, and Marcus imagined each whack, the way the sound must ring through the room. Dylann’s desperate cries, growing higher in pitch, turning to broken sobs…
“What are you doing?”
The voice made him jump. There was a strange moment where he understood instinctively who was standing beside him, who was speaking, but his brain had gone too haywire to process anything beyond panic. He tried to X out of the video, ended up making it full screen, then finally closed it, but was still on the site. In his scramble to close the browser, he clicked on about five different stills, opening them in new windows.
A well-manicured, light-brown hand reached out, took the mouse, and calmly X-ed out of all windows. Marcus sat there, shoulders hunched, eyes nearly closed in a sustained cringe, trying not to breathe.
The silence went on and on.
Marcus slowly forced himself to turn toward Juan. But he couldn’t lift his gaze.
Marcus just shook his head, like he was trying to deny his own existence.
“Go sit over there,” Juan said quietly, motioning to the chair across from the desk.
Marcus stood and stumbled out from behind Juan’s desk. He took a seat in the other chair, his heart jackhammering. Nothing felt real. No, everything felt too real. Juan crossed the room and pulled the door shut with a click. Marcus winced at that, and at the sound of each footstep as Juan made his way back to the desk and sat. Juan gazed at his blank computer screen. Then at Marcus.
“Looking at porn at work? Really?”
Marcus tried to gauge Juan’s tone without actually meeting the man’s eyes. His boss sounded amused, exasperated—maybe a little pissed, but not, like, raging. Marcus trapped his hands between his knees and stared downward. “I…”
“On company time.”
Marcus’s head shot up; panic welled in his chest. “I swear, I’ve never done it before.”
“So why now?” Juan sounded genuinely interested in the answer, which cut through some of Marcus’s panic.
“I—I just…” He just what? What was he going to say? He dropped his gaze again in defeat. “There’s no excuse, sir. I’m sorry.” Please, please don’t kill me. Or fire me.
“You know this is serious.”
Marcus hunched further, wondering what the others knew, or suspected. They’d seen Juan close the door with Marcus still inside. Had to know Marcus was in trouble. And suddenly Marcus’s fantasies collided with the awful reality of the situation: If Juan had a porn site like that in his browser history, maybe he thought about the same kind of stuff Marcus did. Maybe he wanted what Marcus wanted.
But did Marcus really want it?
“I—I know sir.”
What could he say? How did he ask? Why wasn’t he up already, collecting what little stuff he had from his kiddie desk and getting the hell out of here?
“I’m honestly not sure what to do,” Juan remarked. “This isn’t a situation I’ve found myself in before.”
Don’t fire me don’t fire me don’t fire me don’t—
“Maybe you should teach me a lesson!”
Marcus sat there, frozen for a moment. Juan didn’t move either.
Then dread sank into him.
Ho-ly shit. Those words had actually come out of his mouth. Right here. Right now. He’d said them. And he couldn’t take them back.
How humiliating would it be to get spanked in front of an audience? The men in these four tales of public punishment are about to find out!
From the store to the workplace to the doctor’s office, the tops in these stories don’t wait until they’re behind closed doors to deliver some swift, seat-of-the-pants instruction to deserving brats.
In “The Vandal,” a wayward graffiti artist faces smarting consequences from a disgruntled neighbor. In “The Doctor Will Spank You Now,” a librarian who fakes illness to get out of a work event finds himself at the mercy of his strict dom and an unorthodox doctor. “No Way to Treat a Lady” sees a young man disciplined by a fellow customer when he sexually harasses a woman in a drugstore. And “Coffee Boy” features a young advertising intern obsessed with his spanking fantasies—but unprepared for the reality of being punished by his boss.