Red Hot Deal – by Kinky Callum

RED HOT DEAL

Greg was in his late thirties, living a relatively comfortable life in his large, somewhat lonely Essex home. A software developer by day, he spent most of his evenings indulging in quiet hobbies, the solitude only occasionally broken by the company of friends. But things had changed recently when Jade, a 20-year-old beautician, had come into his life.

Jade was pretty in a conventional way, with blonde hair and a flawless complexion. She was polite and pleasant enough, but dull—her conversations revolving around work, reality TV, and her obsession with her boyfriend, Jack. After a falling out with her parents, she needed a place to stay, and Greg, always eager for extra income and perhaps some company, had offered to rent out his spare room.

But Jade was not the real attraction. It was Jack, her 21-year-old Scouser boyfriend, who had taken up more than just physical space in Greg’s house. Handsome, cocky, and oozing a raw, laddish charm, Jack had an air about him that made him almost irresistible to Greg. He was the embodiment of the type of man Greg could only fantasize about—gym-tanned, muscular, with thighs that could make anyone weak in the knees. And those tight boxer briefs he seemed so fond of? They didn’t help Greg’s sanity.

Jack was everything Jade wasn’t—bold, brash, and utterly self-assured. On weekends, when Jade was working, Jack had no qualms about lounging around the house in just his boxers and socks, often spreading out on the living room couch as he played Call of Duty, legs wide apart, giving Greg a front-row seat to the show he didn’t dare admit he was watching. Greg could barely stand it when Jack would casually call him “mate,” a term that seemed to bring both warmth and distance. And that wink Jack often threw his way as he strutted by, heading for the fridge or bathroom? It sent shivers down Greg’s spine.

One fateful Sunday morning, Jack woke up groggy from the night before, still dressed in nothing but a pair of tight purple boxer briefs and white socks. Admiring himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but smirk at his own reflection. “No wonder the birds and that gay landlord of mine can’t keep their eyes off me,” he thought, twisting to get a good look at his round, muscular buttocks. For a laugh, he jumped up and down, watching the jiggle in the mirror.

Bored and feeling a little mischievous, Jack decided to have a snoop around the house while Jade was still at work. He wandered from room to room, his curiosity leading him to the one place he had yet to explore—Greg’s bedroom. Greg was out on his usual Sunday morning jog, so Jack felt emboldened as he pushed open the door.

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The room was neat, almost sterile, with a distinct lack of personal items on display. But that didn’t deter Jack. He began rummaging through the drawers, expecting to find something juicy—maybe some fancy colognes or, better yet, some kind of drug stash. What he found instead stopped him in his tracks.

It was a leather paddle, worn but clearly well-loved, hidden beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes. Jack stared at it, shocked, holding it up to the light as if to confirm it was real.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Greg’s voice, sharp and almost trembling with controlled rage, cut through the silence. “Can I help you, young man?”

“Mate,” Jack blurted out, startled as Greg entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him. The bravado that usually coloured Jack’s voice faltered for a moment as he tried to come up with an excuse. “Uh, I was just looking for something. Thought I might’ve left something in here, you know?”

Greg, however, wasn’t buying it. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, nodding toward the leather paddle still in Jack’s hand. “And what do you think you’ve found, young man?” His voice was firm, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Jack glanced at the paddle, his bravado slipping further as he realized what he was holding.

He dropped it quickly, as if it had suddenly burned him. “Uh, sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to—”

But Greg wasn’t angry. In fact, he saw an opportunity in Jack’s momentary vulnerability. He stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from stern to playful. “Not as cocky as usual now, are you, naughty boy?” Greg teased, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jack, usually the picture of confidence, suddenly felt a bit out of his depth. He tried to laugh it off, but the situation had him more flustered than he expected. He shifted as if to leave, but Greg gently placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. The older man’s touch was surprisingly soft as he let his hand slide over Jack’s pecs and down his biceps, finally resting on his muscular back. “It really is a waste,” Greg remarked wistfully, almost to himself.

Jack’s heart raced, unsure of where this was going, but Greg’s next words caught him off guard. “Tell me, Jack, how would you like to earn some extra pocket money?”

Jack blinked, caught between curiosity and suspicion. “How much we talking?”

Greg’s smile widened, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. “How does £500 per session sound?”

Jack’s skepticism returned, but so did his interest. “And, uh, what exactly do you want me to do, mate?”

Greg’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Be your usual cocky, bratty self. Tease me, push my buttons, be that cheeky lad who loves to wind me up.”

Jack tilted his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the request. “Why would you want that?”

Greg’s reply was as simple as it was unexpected. “Because, Jack, I want you to tease me into spanking you.”

Jack let out a surprised laugh, the tension breaking as he realized how absurdly lighthearted the whole situation was. “You’re serious?” he asked, the grin returning to his face.

“Dead serious,” Greg replied, chuckling. “But only if you’re up for a bit of fun.”

Jack considered it for a moment, the idea slowly becoming more amusing than awkward.

“You know what, mate? You’ve got yourself a deal.”

With the deal struck, Jack’s trademark cockiness returned in full force. If Greg wanted him to be a cocky brat, then that’s exactly what he’d get—and Jack was more than happy to oblige. After all, how hard could it be to get paid to be himself?

“Alright, mate,” Jack said, his grin widening as he leaned back against the wall, his hands resting behind his head in a display of relaxed confidence. “Let’s see how much fun we can have.”

Greg watched with eager anticipation as Jack switched gears, fully embracing the role he’d been asked to play. The young man swaggered across the room, exaggerating the natural sway of his hips, his bubble butt jiggling with each step. He made a point of flexing his calves and thighs, the muscles rippling beneath the tight boxer briefs and white socks. Jack was clearly enjoying himself, the playful glint in his eye growing brighter as he noticed Greg’s growing excitement.

“Like what you see, mate?” Jack taunted, giving his hips an extra wiggle as he spun around to face Greg. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, eh?” He flexed his thighs, deliberately drawing Greg’s attention to the way his muscles bulged and stretched beneath his smooth, tanned skin.

Greg nodded, more flustered than he’d anticipated. “Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice betraying just how much he was enjoying the show. “Give me more of that attitude.”

Jack chuckled, falling deeper into his role. He made a game of teasing Greg, bending over to pick up imaginary items, bouncing on his toes to make his bubble butt jiggle even more, and occasionally flashing a cheeky grin over his shoulder. He’d nearly forgotten the whole point of this was to push Greg’s buttons to the limit—it was just too much fun to play the bratty lad.

But eventually, Greg reached his breaking point. After what felt like an eternity of relentless teasing, Greg couldn’t take it anymore. With a playful growl, he lunged at Jack, pushing him back in a slapstick manner that sent Jack tumbling onto the bed, his legs kicking up in surprise.

“Oi!” Jack yelped, half-laughing as he found himself flat on his back, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate!”

Greg stood over him, a wide grin on his face as he caught his breath, clearly enjoying this moment of playful dominance. “You had that coming, brat,” he teased back, still catching his breath from the excitement.

Jack just laughed, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well, if you’re gonna pay me to wind you up, you’d better be ready for more, ‘cause this lad doesn’t hold back!”

With Jack sprawled out on the bed, Greg couldn’t help but revel in the moment. He had been teased and tormented for weeks by this cocky, bratty straight lad, and now it was time for some well-earned payback.

“Time to see how tough you really are, Jack,” Greg said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jack, still smirking, gave a defiant wiggle of his hips. “Bring it on, mate. I can take whatever you’ve got.”

But as Greg’s hand came down with a firm smack on Jack’s backside, the young man quickly realised that being spanked wasn’t nearly as fun as he’d imagined. The first few swats were stinging, and Jack couldn’t help but grimace , his cockiness still intact.

“Is that all you’ve got, old man?” Jack taunted, trying to flash Greg a cheeky grin.

Greg’s eyes narrowed playfully, and his next slap was harder, the sound echoing through the room. Jack’s grin faltered, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Alright, alright, easy now!” Jack protested, the sting beginning to register.

But Greg wasn’t done. Pulling the waistband of Jacks boxers he exposed the protestesting youths ripe bare arse and his large flaccid uncut jiggling dick. He continued the spanking, each swat firm and deliberate. At first, Jack tried to keep up his bravado, forcing out cocky remarks between yelps of surprise. But as the spanking went on and the sting intensified, his bravado began to crumble. The smirk on his face faded, replaced by a look of growing discomfort.

“Alright, mate, that’s enough!” Jack finally said, wincing as Greg’s hand landed another firm smack on his now-reddened backside. “I get it, I get it!”

But Greg wasn’t stopping. “Not so fun now, is it, brat?” he teased, his voice a mixture of amusement and authority. “Thought you could handle it, didn’t you?”

Jack squirmed on the bed, trying to shift away from Greg’s relentless hand. “I said I’m sorry, alright?!” he huffed, his tone no longer cocky but pleading.

Greg finally paused, resting his hand on Jack’s warm, tingling backside. “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked. .

“Yeah, yeah, lesson learned!” Jack replied quickly, eager for the spanking to be over. “No more winding you up, I promise!”

Greg smiled, satisfied. He gave Jack one last playful swat, lighter this time, before stepping back and letting the younger man roll over. Jack sat up, rubbing his sore backside with a pained expression that was almost comical.

“Next time, maybe think twice before being such a brat,” Greg teased, his tone lighthearted as he watched Jack try to regain his composure.

Jack shot him a look, half-amused, half-irritated. “Yeah, yeah. But don’t think I won’t get you back for this, mate,” he muttered, though the smirk creeping back onto his face suggested he wasn’t too upset.

Greg chuckled, offering Jack a hand to help him up. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink.