Page 47 of Master Daddy

Two weeks have flown by in the most wonderful blur. The sale of the Hardrock Healing Club is officially complete and that means Mason and I are now the proud new owners.

We’ve already started dreaming up changes: a bigger Little-friendly relaxation area, couples’ contrast therapy packages, and even a small merch corner with cute “Hardrock Healing” hoodies. Life feels like it’s finally clicking into place.

But today isn’t about the club.

Today is all about the bench press contest I’ve been training for with Mason…

The gym is buzzing with energy when we arrive. The whole gang is here—Milo and Connor, Taron and Kaleb, plus a few other friends who’ve heard about our friendly rivalry.

Milo’s bouncing on his toes in his bright green workout set, looking fierce and focused. I’m in my favorite black shorts and a cropped t-shirt, heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

Mason stands beside me like a solid mountain, one big hand resting on the small of my back. My Daddy has been incredible these past weeks—pushing me in training, praising me when I hit new numbers, and holding me when doubt creeps in.

But right now, as I watch Milo load plates onto the bar for his warm-up, a sudden wave of anxiety hits me…

“I need you in the truck,” I whisper urgently, grabbing Mason’s hand. “Right now. Please.”

My Daddy doesn’t ask questions. He just nods, that calm Daddy authority settling over him, and leads me straight out to the parking lot.

The second we’re inside his truck with the doors shut, I’m already yanking my shorts and jockstrap down to my knees…

“Spank me,” I beg, bending over the console and presenting my bare ass to him. “Hard and fast. I need to be fired up. I need to feel you.”

Mason growls low in his throat, one large hand rubbing over my exposed cheeks.

“My eager little boy,” Mason growls. “You’ve got this, but if you need your Daddy to light a fire under this pretty ass, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

The first smack lands sharp and perfect—crack!—followed quickly by another. And from there, Daddy doesn’t hold back…

Mason’s big palm rains down in a fast, stinging rhythm, covering every inch of my bottom until it’s burning hot and glowing bright pink. Each smack sends sparks straight to my dick and lights a fierce determination in my chest.

I moan and push back into every strike, letting the heat build, letting it chase away every last scrap of doubt.

By the time Mason finishes, my ass is throbbing deliciously and I feel unstoppable.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I gasp, pulling my jockstrap and shorts back up. The fabric rubbing against my heated skin only makes me feel more alive.

I turn and kiss Mason hard, then march back into the gym with Mason right by my side, my bottom glowing like a secret superpower.

“Let’s do this, boy,” Mason roars. “Let’s freakin’ do this.”

The contest is intense from the very first lift…

Milo goes first. He’s strong—really strong—and he smashes his previous PR on the second attempt, the small crowd cheering wildly.

I match Milo, then surpass it on my third set.

We trade leads, both of us breaking personal records on the way to the final heavy singles.

The gym feels electric.

Our Daddies and friends are cheering, filming, hyping us up.

Milo steps up for his final attempt. The bar is loaded heavier than he’s ever gone.

“Grrr. Let’s go,” Milo says.

“You’ve got this,” Connor says, his eyes full of intent.