Casper hates working on holidays, but he especially hates working on New Year’s Eve. Every dom thinks they have the god-given right to any sub they happen across. And that goes doubly for the subs working as servers.
“Another round huh, sweetcheeks.” A large hand slaps Casper’s ass.
Casper forces a smile. “Of course, Ma’am.” He grits between clenched teeth.
Another smack. This one significantly harder causing Casper to bite back a grunt. “Watch your tone, slut. Don’t wanna hafta put you over my knee too early right?”
Casper tenses much to the delight of the dom and her friends. “That’s what I thought. Now -” Smack! “Hop to it.”
Casper doesn’t flee from the table of drunken and rowdy doms because he doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. But he’s dreading returning back there. Especially this close to the countdown.
It’s tradition to spank in the New Year with a sub over your knee. The sub is supposed to be consenting, but most doms aren’t that discerning when they’re out looking for a good time.
It doesn’t matter that Casper is wearing pants - a clear contrast to the consenting subs who are bottomless - that he is not open to being spanked as part of the celebration. It’s not the first time the customers at the Honey Pot have ignored such social niceties as consent and used the Sub servers - because all the servers are subs - as their own personal party favors.
“As long as no one gets fucked,” is Ms. Cooper’s standard response when anyone asks. And because it’s already so damn hard for a sub to get and keep a job, no one leaves unless they’re able to find something better. And no one ever finds anything better.
So they work through it.
Some of the subs have formed mini alliances with each other. Keeping an eye out for the more rowdier customers and helping each other to avoid them for the customers with less intense interests or at the very least deeper pockets.
The problem with alliances though is that someone is always excluded. And as usual, that someone is Casper. He could lie to himself and say it’s because he’s the new guy. But he knows it’s because he’s trans, and the other servers think that all trans subs want to become tyrannical doms.
It’s the same problem everywhere he goes, so Casper has just learned to deal with it. And the sadistic doms that get sent his way because of it.
Casper hurries to refill the drinks for that table. Endures quite a few more smacks and pinches and hurries out of there before one of the doms can drag him over their knee. There’s five minutes to the countdown and Casper would rather die than have one of those assholes spanking him.
Most of his tables have been helped, but he starts making rounds again because as a sub server without an alliance he can’t afford to leave himself open for any complaints - Ms. Cooper likes to punish her subs personally and publicly.
He’s just gotten a request for another round when an hand wraps around his upper arm and forcibly drags him to a table not in his section of the bar.
“This the one you wanted, boss?”
The boss is an older man that Casper remembers from a few weeks ago for being a grabby asshole intent on making Casper beg for mercy. He hadn’t, begged of course that is. Because the guy was a bigoted bastard that clearly felt insecure because the boy he was feeling up had a pussy and wanted to prove that Casper was a ‘girl who would cry at the slightest bit of pain’ and there was no way Casper was going to give the bastard that kind of satisfaction.
He just hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.
“Yeah, that’s the tranny that thinks she’s so tough.” The ‘boss’ turns to his dinner partner. Another man, though this one looks younger, and cuter. Though if he’s hanging out with this creep, Casper would rather just stay clear of him.
“This bitch here doesn’t like to submit to her superiors. So I’m going to make you a deal. You get this bitch to cry and beg for mercy. And I’ll accept your terms. Deal?”
There’s a pause. Long enough for Casper to internally curse every choice that has lead him to this very moment, but not long enough for him to find any way to escape the inevitable.
“Deal.” The guy agrees and Casper’s heart drops down to his stomach. This guys is built . If Casper gets out of this with the ability to hobble home, he’ll be lucky.
The man shifts so that his legs are spread. The dom that had grabbed Casper shoves him into the man’s waiting arms.
“Breathe, kid.” The man whispers in his ear. “Let’s put on a show, yeah.”
Then Casper is face down over the man’s lap so fast his head spins and he thinks the whispering was only in his mind. A delusion made up to give himself some sort of comfort for what’s sure to be a traumatic experience.
The man yanks Casper’s pants and underwear down to his knees with one tug. A strong arm wraps around Casper’s torso pinning him in place. A large hand pats at his bare bottom.
“You’re not even gonna use an implement?” the ‘boss’ scoffs.
The man holding Casper shifts in what Casper’s pretty sure is a shrug. “Don’t need it.”
Another pat, this one almost apologetic. Then the hand is gone and the spanking begins.
Casper flinches as the man’s hand falls unerringly on Casper’s upraised bottom. It hurts, yes . . . But Casper’s been spanked by enough doms to know this one isn’t trying to pummel him into submission as fast as possible. These aren’t full force smacks.
The man’s hand is heavy, but consistent in it’s strength as it methodically smacks every inch of Casper’s presented posterior. The man spanks as if there’s no rush or urgency. As if he could carry on spanking Casper forever without even breaking a sweat.
It’s that thought that scares Casper more than anything else and has him squirming across the man’s lap.
Well that and the fact that the intimacy of being hand spanked over the knee like a much younger sub is throwing him for a loop. The arm securing him feels more comforting than restricting, and Casper honestly has no idea how to react to such conflicting emotions.
Casper doesn’t have to worry about his emotions too much longer though, because the man ups the intensity on the spanking. Just a little more strength and a little more speed, and all Casper can focus on is the pain in his backside.
He starts squirming in earnest. His legs kicking as the man peppers his bottom with a volley of smacks. He thinks he hears the ‘boss’ laughing, but Casper’s thoughts are too consumed by the building fire in his bottom to even care.
The man moves down to swat at the top of Casper’s sensitive thighs and Casper jerks in a desperate attempt to escape off the man’s lap.
Jesus fuck how does one man’s hand hurt that bad. The man pins Casper’s legs with his own without every stopping his assault on Casper’s rapidly reddening behind.
The next smacks feel impossible harder. A clear warning to cool it with the struggling. Which Casper thinks is incredibly unfair since his legs are now rather thoroughly pinned in the man’s grip. A particularly thunderous smack lands on his sit spot and Casper’s whole body jerks without his input. His hands hover dangerously in the air between the ground and his poor defenseless bottom. But Casper’s never let any dom reduce him to blocking swats and he’s not going to start now.
Another hard and heavy smack to the center of his bottom, and this time Casper lunges forward. He wraps his arms around the man’s leg and holds on for dear life.
The spanking unsurprisingly continues. The heat and pain builds and soon Casper is letting out pained little gasps that quickly turn into yelps and whimpers. He won’t cry though. He won’t.
Maybe sensing Casper’s renewed resolve the man tightens his grip on Casper’s waist and let’s lose some of the hardest smacks yet. Casper howls.
God it hurts. It hurts so bad. The man’s hand is as unrelenting as a wooden paddle. But Casper isn’t going to cry. He isn’t -
The man’s thumb starts rubbing soothing circles into Casper hip. It’s a stark contrast to the punishing pace of blows to his helpless bottom.
“P-please,” Casper croaks. Unsure if he’s begging for the pain to stop, or for that gentle touch to continue. Either way the man ignores him. Spanking Casper’s bum to his own satisfaction, steadily making his way from one cheek to the other and back. Slapping from the meatiest part of his bouncing cheeks down to the his delicate sit spots and then back up again. That torturously kind touch never wavering throughout the entire ordeal.
Casper let’s out a shuddering sob before going limp across the man’s knee.
Vaguely Casper hears the ‘boss’ cheer, “Broken just in time for the countdown.”
Casper let’s out a sob at that. It’s only been five minutes?
The man squeezes Casper’s hip gently. It’s feels encouraging. “Let it out, kid.” The man orders.
“ONE!”
A burning smack lands dead center of Casper’s bottom and Casper squeals.
“TWO!”
Another punishing blow a little lower than the first and Casper’s full body jerks with the impact.
“THREE!”
This time the swat lands on his left sit spot.
“FOUR!”
Now the right.
“FIVE!”
A blow to the back of each thigh. Casper’s toes drum into the floor.
“SIX!”
Two thunderous swats to his left cheek.
“SEVEN!”
Now two to the right.
“EIGHT!”
Back to the center. “Please Sir! Please no more!”
“NINE!”
The man pulls Casper in closer, as he lands two harsh slaps to the underside of his cheeks.
“TEN!”
Two merciless smacks to the back of each thigh have Casper sobbing pitifully across the man’s lap. His cries interweaving with the sobs of all the other subs in the room who have been spanked into the New Year.
The man stands him on shaky legs and Casper wraps his arms around his stomach. He knows better than to expect a hug. No matter how much he wants one.
“God look at that ass. It’s so fucking bruised. Turn her around. I want to see her face.”
The man turns Casper around to face the boss. Casper can’t bring himself to look the bastard in the eye. Not while he’s still sobbing from having his bottom so thoroughly and humiliatingly spanked.
“Not so high and mighty now are you, bitch.”
Casper hunches in on himself. A hand smacks down on the front of his thigh. “I asked you a question, slut.”
Casper hugs himself tighter. “No sir.”
The bastard laughs, “Respectful now are we. You should think about taking this one home, Soldier. Clearly you’ve got a way with her.”
The man that had spanked him - Soldier? - places a hand on the nape of Casper’s neck and squeezes. It’s more gentle than Casper expected.
“Maybe I will.”
Casper shudders, but makes no movement to try and leave or pull his pants and underwear back up because . . . well Soldier hadn’t given him permission to. So he stands there. His pants and underwear around his ankles and his spanked bottom on display for everyone to see while the men talk business. Eventually the ‘boss’ and his henchmen get up to leave.
The moment they disappear out the Honey Pot’s front door the Soldier pulls Casper down into his lap. Though this time he’s upright not face down and he hisses when his bruised butt makes contact with the rough texture of the man’s pants.
“I’m so sorry, kiddo. I got some ointment for that? I could rub it in for you?”
Casper opens his mouth and shuts it. Unsure what the appropriate response is in this moment. Is that a ploy to fuck him? Will he be spanked again if he answers wrong? The thought of another spanking makes Casper want to cry.
The man takes Casper’s silence as panicking which is a fairly accurate assumption.
“Breathe for me kiddo. Deep breaths. In . . . Out . . . In . . . Out . . .” This is at least something Casper is able to do. So he eagerly obeys, matching his breathing with the man’s until it evens out into something fairly normal.
“Good boy,” the man praises. Casper shivers.
“T-thank you, sir.” He says grateful not just for the praise, but for the correct gendering as well.
“Kiddo, you got nothing to thank me for. That was a hell of a spanking you just took. One that you didn’t even ask for. But you took it like a real champ. You’re were so good kid. So good. What a good fucking boy you are,” the man murmurs reverently.
Each bit of praise seems to wrap itself around Casper like a warm and reassuring blanket and he wants to lean deeper into the man’s embrace. He really really does but . . .
“Why -?” He starts then cuts himself off. Aware that he’s stepping out of his place and could very easily ruin this delicate peace they have going right now.
“Why did I spank you when you weren’t consenting? Or why did I spank you that hard?”
Both, Casper thinks but is too chicken to ask aloud. The man answers anyway.
“Can you keep a secret, little one?” Casper nods wearily.
The man shifts and pulls a badge out of his pocket. “I’m a Shield agent,” the man says. And instead of doing that fast flippy thing you always see on TV when someone is impersonating an agent, he opens it and hands it to Casper to inspect. Not that Casper has any idea what to inspect for . . .
“My name is Agent James Barnes.” Casper snorts then tenses expecting at least a slap for that. But the man just chuckles. “Yeah, trust me kiddo I’ve heard all the James Bond jokes. That’s why I go by Bucky.”
“Bucky?” Casper asks before he can help himself.
“Middle name’s Buchanan.”
“Like the president?”
“Like the president.” Bucky chuckles at Casper’s incredulous expression. “What about you, little boy? What may I call you.”
“Casper.”
“Pleasure to meet you Casper. Though I wish it was under better circumstances,” Bucky's voice has taken on a strange mixture of sad and angry, but when Casper glances at him nervously the man only smiles softly before continuing his explanation. “I was undercover tonight. Needed to get some intel and the only way to do that was to get that asshole to trust me. And I’m sure you’ve noticed, but that guy's a real piece of work. Taking him out’s gonna make the world a lot safer for a lot of people. Unfortunately, your bottom paid the price.” Bucky sounds pretty upset about that, and Casper feels kind of warm at the expression of anger on his behalf.
“I swear to you, kiddo. I would never had beat you like that if I hadn’t had too. It was killing me not to just hold and cuddle you after. Thank you so much for staying.”
Casper shrugs. “You didn’t give me permission to leave.”
Bucky swallows. “No I didn’t. You can leave now if you want. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t wanna. I won’t be mad or angry.”
“You want me to go?” Casper asks in a voice smaller than he intended.
“I wanna cuddle you for the rest of the night,” Bucky counters. “But I don’t wanna force you to do anything else you don’t wanna do.”
Casper mulls that over for a moment before glancing up at Bucky through his eyelashes. “I wanna cuddle you too.”
Bucky beams at him. “Then that’s what we’ll do, sweet boy. After all, I gotta make it up to ya somehow right?”
Casper smiles shyly before throwing his arms around Bucky and nuzzling into the man’s chest. Maybe working on New Year’s Eve isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.