DISCLAIMER: The entire Detective Conan series, including its characters, belong to Gosho Aoyama. This is a non-profit fan work.

A meaning of happiness

Gin still wasn't very sure where he had found the courage for what he was about to do. Asking her had been sort of awkward – the burning heat of his cheeks, the uncomfortable hardness of his crotch against the trousers. And the worst of it all had been Sherry's look: a brown arch above an infinity of questioning blue.

But, to his surprise, she had said yes.

'Are you okay?'

Gin looked up. Sherry had her face turned at him – a posture which, judging from the angle of her neck, looked somehow painful. She cared for him, that was for sure.

'Yes, don't worry. A bit nervous, that's all,' he answered. 'And you?'

Sherry shrugged her shoulders and moved her head to what looked like a more comfortable position. Internally, a part of Gin sighed in relief. To stay on all fours for a while would be annoyance enough – there was no need for her neck to ache too.

'I'm fine,' she claimed, and then smiled. 'Waiting for you to start whenever you want.'

Gin made a smile of his own. His left hand felt the smooth skin of Sherry's buttocks, following their shape with a swift movement. As he slid down, the girl's thighs spread a few inches wider and Gin went on to pat the rosy folds between her legs. Sherry's back arched almost imperceptibly at his touch. His grin widened.

Rubbing her clitoris and labia alternatively, Gin's fingers got wet before he could really notice. Sherry's hips had begun to move back and forth, and the moans that came out of her lips were gradually becoming louder. He had a look at her crotch – for a moment, the temptation to bend down and feel it against his tongue was so great that he had to avert his eyes. Not yet, he thought to himself.

Gin's right hand moved to caress Sherry's butt while his left one kept its same steady pace between her legs. His half-hard cock brushed against the girl's thigh when he moved closer to her, sending a quiet rush of pleasure across his body.

'Are you ready?' he asked. His pulse had quickened.

'Yes,' she panted. 'Perfectly ready…'

Fighting to remember what he had looked up on the topic and to ignore the numerous ideas that currently ran around his head (many of which would put the most explicit pornography to shame), Gin carefully placed his free hand right at the top of the girl's bum. He caressed it for a moment and then smacked it.

At the sound of his own hand clashing against Sherry's skin, dozens of images flooded his mind. He saw his mother, struggling to stand in spite of the bruises that covered her body, and his father, hand raised in the air, ready to hit her again… His heart skipped a beat. He closed his eyes. Those were memories, only and no more; memories about two people who had been dead for almost ten years now. He was okay, and so was Sherry – they had agreed to do this. Everything was okay; he was not his father, he was not…

'Being told has never and will never work, at least not for you,' his therapist had said. It had been on a quiet morning, roughly half a month before, during his last visit. 'Only when you see it yourself you'll realize how different from your father you actually are. So challenge yourself. Do things that remind you of him, maybe, or watch a movie about domestic violence, for example – whatever gets you out of your comfort zone. When you face such situations, you will be able to really compare your behavior to that of your father, and you'll realize what everyone has always told you: that you are not him.'

Gin opened his eyes. He was not his father. Sherry, who didn't seem to have noticed his internal conflict at all, still panted on her hands and knees. Taking another deep breath, he slapped her butt again.

The high moan she made at that second smack made him feel better than he could have imagined. She liked it, she really did. He tried with a third slap, and a yet louder moan resonated in the bedroom. Her crotch felt wet and swollen against his left hand. Moving his fingers to caress only her labia, he continued smacking her every few seconds.

Much to his pleasure, Sherry seemed to like everything more and more as minutes passed. When the skin he was hitting adopted a pinkish tone, Gin slid his hand down and, very carefully, started feeling and pinching the bottom of her butt.

'Would you like it,' he asked with a smile on his face, 'if I hit you… a little harder?'

Sherry laughed. After a few seconds, she answered,

'Not only a little, please.'

Gin laughed too. Then, taking the umpteenth deep breath of the night, he slapped Sherry's bum as hard as he could.

The loud moan that came out of her lips was all his cock needed to finally reach a full erection. Completely ignoring it, however, he continued smacking Sherry, only stopping to alternate between cheeks every now and then. His shaft, getting only harder in response to the boy's increasing arousal, began to jolt freely, as if crying for the attention of its suddenly neglectful owner. Gin smirked. There was some sort of pleasure in the heaviness of his swollen balls, in the itching hardness of his cock, in waiting and seeing how far he could go before it became too much to bear.

After a long while, he heard Sherry's trembling voice calling his name. He looked up. The girl's bottom was now of a bright reddish color, and a part of him feared that he may have hurt her.

'Yes?'

'I'm… dying to come,' she panted. 'Eat me out… please…'

He couldn't help grinning.

Finally moving his left hand away from Sherry's crotch, the boy held her hips at once, pressing his thumbs against her tender skin. Still kneeling, he moved around to place himself right before her and bent down.

Sherry resumed moaning with the very first lick he gave to her wet sex. His lips cupped as much of it as he could, eager of the salty taste he was so familiar with. Her clitoris, now completely erect, stood out in her crotch as if trying to get the boy's attention, similar in many ways to the stiff shaft that bounced and jolted between his own thighs. Being careful not to slow down the pace of his tongue, Gin held his aching dick with his left hand and started stroking it up and down. The wetness of Sherry's labia, still on his fingers, spread along his shaft with the first few jerks of his wrist. The few drops of pre-come felt deliciously cold when, forcing a hushed moan out of his lips, they dampened Gin's glans. The pace of both his mouth and hand quickened unconsciously.

The waves of pleasure that issued from his crotch mingled with those of the burning pain coming from his bent back and neck, overwhelming him with a mix of sensations he didn't stop to think about. Fears and worries had vanished from his mind – only the current moment mattered, only Sherry's sex in his mouth and his own dick in his hand, only the well-known peak he died to reach once more, only the tickling that ran up and down his spine. His own moans seemed to echo hers in his ear.

He knew Sherry had reached orgasm when she tensed up her body and let out a broken shriek. His left hand started to move even faster, and it was a matter of mere seconds before a good load of thick whiteness erupted from his dick, splashing his fingers and falling in its majority on the floor before him. He let his head fall back and screamed in pleasure. After the last drop had been squeezed out of his body, the boy sat down and waited for his pulse to adopt a more relaxed pace.

A soft peck on his burning cheek caught him by surprise. Sherry, still on all fours, had approached him very quietly and now looked at him with a kinky smile. Her forehead and neck were covered in uncountable drops of sweat that sparkled under the light of the room.

'Sorry,' he managed to utter. 'I have cummed… on the floor…'

Sherry shook her head.

'Who cares. It can be cleaned.'

Gin nodded.

'It's going to hurt to sit down,' he noted.

In response, Sherry simply let out a brief laugh, at sound of which the boy unconsciously looked up. When their eyes met, he couldn't help a wide grin. He held her stare for a long while and then kissed her on her lips.

Although his pulse and breath had finally slowed down, his cheeks seemed to burn with a renewed force.

Author's notes:

¡Hola! Hello! Hallo! こんにちは! Salut! Here comes Sherry Furude once more, ready for attack!

Yet once more, I wrote this fic for a Tumblr request. In this case, I was asked for 'an angst [GinSherry] fanfic where Sherry loves to be spanked by Gin.' Surprising as it may seem, the idea of a GinSherry spanking fic had been running around my mind for over a year. So this request was pretty much a dream come true! However, by the time I recieved the ask I didn't have much time to write, so I had to just leave it where it was. A few days ago, I finally decided to get my hands on the keyboard and I started writing it. Of course, first I looked up a bit on spanking, as I had pretty much no idea on the topic.

And, as you have noticed, yes, I am finally including (more straightforward) hints about Gin's past in my English-written fanfiction. It was about time, wasn't it? My Spanish-written fics deal with that topic very often, but for a long time I have been somehow reluctant to do the same in my English-written ones. But now that's in the past, I guess!

As I always say and mean, do not hesitate to tell me if you find any kind of mistake. I would be very grateful! With your help, I will gradually become a better writer.

Thank you for reading the fic - I hope you liked it! Lots of love and see you next time!

Sherry F.