Keys jangling against the lock sounded outside the apartment door and Eli stood up slowly, ruler in hand. The door creaked open, and he rolled his blue eyes as he watched the familiar form of his partner Jacob, with messy auburn hair and a dirty T-shirt and torn jeans, entering slowly. He could smell him before he had even entered. The odor of grease, oil and smoke filling his nostrils.
"The door always creaks Jacob." He watched the figure stiffen before fully entering. "Why a supposed mechanic hasn't managed to fix the problem even after being repeatedly asked to do so, I cannot understand."
Closing the door behind him, Jacob moved fully into the apartment and stepped forward.
"Stop!" Eli marched towards him, pointing with the ruler down at Jacob's dirty boots. "Where are your boots supposed to go?"
"In the bins by the door."
"And where have you been putting them?" The disgust in Eli's voice was clear.
" In the bedroom," replied Jacob quietly.
"Your hands present them."
Lifting his grease covered hands, Jacob swallowed slowly and flinched as he felt the ruler crack down on the back of his hands with a stinging efficiency.
"Put your boots where they belong."
Nodding silently, Jacob began to unlace his boots. His breathing had quickened. Eli only brought out the ruler when he was frustrated and meant to teach him a lesson. Over many years, he had learned that they were never lessons he forgot. As he removed his boots, he glanced quickly over at the tall figure before him in a crisp T-shirt tucked into pressed pants and a tight leather belt. He noticed the blonde curls maintained neatly on either side of Eli's face, framing his eyes, but most of all he noticed the stern gaze fixed on him.
"My love I," a hand being held up interrupted him.
"You are told every day to remove your dirty clothes. Where?"
" In the bins by the door labeled laundry."
"And where have you been putting them?"
"In the bedroom?" Jacob could not remember where he had placed them last.
" Present your hands." In response to the command again, Jacob obeyed..
The first thwack stung his right knuckle, "In the bedroom," the second his left, "in the bathroom," back to his right knuckle, "the living room floor, " a harsh sting to his left, "And yesterday hung over the back of the dinner chair."
"I forgot, my love. I am sorry." Jacob attempted a cajoling tone as he felt the building heat in the back of his hands.
"Remove your clothes and put them where they are supposed to go." Eli laid down the ruler on a small nearby table by the door and watched.
Once Jacob had held his clothes in his hands, Eli pointed towards the bin labeled laundry and watched as he tossed the items in.
For a moment, there was silence between the two. Jacob stood, exposed. He looked down at his feet then rubbed his cheek, forgetting the amount of dirt still wedged between crevices of his hands. A black streak crossed his chin as he moved his fingers, as an irritated twitch flickered across Eli's forehead.
" Filthy as always. Dirty from head to toe. Couldn't even be bothered to wash those disgusting hands at your shop." Eli began a slow pace around Jacob. The almost militaristic presence of his pacing as though inspecting a recruit. A slow shiver crawled across Jacob's skin as he felt an accidental shoulder brush as Eli circled him. He could feel the reddening in his cheeks. The scolding was only the beginning he knew from experience. He could not help it, the shame of this inspection coupled with the reprimanding was making him hard.
Eli interrupted his thoughts, gripping him on the back of the neck and marching him forwards towards the kitchen sink. With a swift jerk, Eli began to run the water, shoving the bottle of soap into Jacob's hand and growling, "Start by washing those filthy hands."
Jacob knew by his tone to obey quickly. Lathering his hands with soap he liberally covered from fingertips to wrist. He heard Eli step away then return shortly, knowing whatever he had in store had been prepared beforehand.
Thwack! The wooden paddle caught him by surprise and he gasped as he felt the sting across his bottom, making his hands shake. A spray of water jumped up his arm and the soap suds danced between his fingers. He gripped the edge of the sink until he felt another stinging blow, "Keep washing those dirty fingers."
Jacob began to scrub with more vigor, as each strike of the paddling became stronger and the stinging increased. As he finished the first rinse of his hands, Eli pressed up against him from behind, lifting his hands up and inspecting them in the fading sunset through the kitchen window. He felt the cold buckle of his partner's belt with the combination of soft business slacks against his stinging skin. A moan almost escaped his lips, but he swallowed it down.
"Do it again. They still are not clean," the harsh voice in his ear barked insistently. Jacob felt his fingers plunged back into the warm water and he quickly reached for the soap again. Covering his hands and lathering again. Eli sighed and stepped to the side and swung his arm with quick succession,one strike after the next. Jacob cried out instinctively, making an attempt to move his bottom from the blows, but Eli held him in place.
"Filthy.Filthy.Filthy. and you reek of cigarettes." Each word was punctuated with disgust, followed by a strike. The shade of Jacob's bottom turned from a gentle pink and shifted into an angry red as the continuation of the second washing of his hands went on. The last swing almost took his breath away, and he gasped out. Eli stopped and set the paddle down on the counter, and handed him a hand towel.
"Go and get me your cigarettes." He pointed towards the shoulder bag at the front door.
Slowly Jacob turned towards him with a pleading look, his words spilling into a whimper. "I promise I'll stop my love. I've learned my lesson."
Eli's gaze slid down to Jacob's cock as he noticed the stream of pre-cum falling on his freshly cleaned wooden floor.
"Get them."
