Chapter Two #3
I don’t give him time to adjust… I push my fingers back inside him, curling them deliberately close to his prostate without quite touching it, teasing the sensitive nerves around it until his thighs start to tremble.
“Listen to those pathetic whimpers,” I say, voice dark and mocking. “You’re trying so hard not to like it, aren’t you? But your body’s already forgetting who’s in charge. Every time I get close to that spot you clamp down like you’re begging for more. Pathetic .”
I pull my fingers free again. “You don’t get to enjoy your punishment, Drew. You hear me? This is to burn… to humiliate you. If I catch even a hint of you moaning like you want it, I’ll stop and leave you like this… cuffed, dripping, and aching all night with no relief. Understand?”
He doesn’t answer with words, just another broken, embarrassed whimper. This is for his own good.
I can’t take it anymore. With a low, frustrated growl, I pull my fingers free, leaving his hole twitching and glistening with lube.
I straighten up just enough to free myself, popping the button on my jeans, dragging the zipper down, and shoving both my jeans and my boxers down my thighs.
My cock springs out, thick and heavy, already leaking at the tip from how long I’ve been hard.
The cool air of the room hits it, but it does nothing to calm the ache.
I grip the base and lean back in, teasingly rubbing the swollen head up and down his slick, puffy rim. The sensation is maddening… hot, tight, and so fucking inviting. I slap my cock against his hole a couple of times, the wet smack making Andrew jolt.
“You like that?” I ask, voice rough and accusing, deliberately pressing the head against his entrance without pushing in. “Be honest, Drew. You like feeling me rub against your hole like this?”
Andrew’s voice comes out shaky and breathless, exactly the way I want it. “N-no… I hate it. Please, Slade… stop .”
I know he’s lying. Deep down I can feel it in the way his body keeps pushing back just the tiniest bit, in the way his hole flutters against the head of my cock like it’s trying to pull me in.
But fuck, I like hearing the words anyway.
The fake begging, the shaky denial… it feeds something dark and hungry inside me.
I rub my cockhead against him again, slower this time, circling his rim teasingly. “Yeah? You hate it? Then why does your ass keep twitching every time I touch you here?”
“Please…” he whimpers, voice cracking beautifully. “I hate it, okay? Just stop… don’t do this.”
I grin darkly, even though he can’t see it with his head hanging off the bed. I keep rubbing, letting the thick head nudge just inside his rim before pulling back, over and over, teasing him mercilessly.
“Tell me again,” I murmur, voice low. “Tell me how much you hate it. Beg me not to put my dick in you.”
Andrew’s breathing picks up, fast and ragged. His next words come out more desperate, more beggy, exactly like I wanted. “ Please , Slade… please don’t put your dick in me. I don’t want it. I swear I hate it… just stop, please …”
That’s it. The second the plea leaves his mouth, I grip his cuffed wrists tighter with one hand, line myself up with the other, and push forward in one slow, relentless thrust.
The tight heat of him swallows the head of my cock, then more, stretching around me as I sink deeper. Andrew lets out a sharp, broken sound… half whimper, half gasp… as I keep going, not stopping until I’m buried to the hilt inside him, my hips flush against his ass.
“Fuck…” I groan, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
He’s impossibly tight, clenching around me like a vice, and the feeling is so intense it nearly shorts out my brain. I stay still for a long moment, letting him feel every thick inch, letting the burn and the stretch settle in deep while I lean over his back, breath hot against his ear.
“There,” I rasp, voice dark with satisfaction. “Now you’re really taking your punishment. ”
Andrew
Slade’s thick cock stretches me open in one long, burning push, and the sudden fullness rips a sharp sound from my throat before I can swallow it.
He bottoms out completely, hips pressed flush against my ass, and for a second everything goes still except for the frantic beat of my heart and the way my body clenches helplessly around him.
I know I’m supposed to hate this. I’m supposed to beg him to stop. So that’s exactly what I do.
“Slade… fuck , don’t,” I whimper, voice shaky and small with my head still hanging off the edge of the bed. “Please don’t go hard. It already hurts too much.”
He stays buried deep, but I feel the way his grip on my cuffed wrists tightens, the low rumble in his chest that tells me he heard every word. He knows …. I know he knows, but we keep playing anyway.
“Don’t go harder?” Slade repeats, voice dark and mocking as he slowly drags his hips back until just the head of his cock is stretching my rim. “You sure about that, Drew?”
He snaps his hips forward again, harder this time, driving back in with a wet slap that makes my whole body jolt. A broken moan escapes me as the thick length drags over that spot inside, sending sparks shooting up my spine .
“It hurts,” I gasp out, the words all backwards and trembling. “That spot… fuck , it hurts so bad. Don’t hit it again. Please don’t go harder, Slade.”
Slade lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against my back as he leans over me. He knows I’m lying. The way my hole keeps fluttering and squeezing around him gives me away completely, but he plays along anyway, voice rough.
“Yeah? It hurts, huh?” He pulls out almost all the way again, then slams back in with a deliberately brutal thrust, nailing my prostate dead-on. “Then you better stop clenching around me like you’re trying to pull me deeper. Sounds like you’re enjoying your punishment a little too much, kid.”
I shake my head even though he can’t really see it, my voice coming out in desperate, fake protests. “I’m not… I swear I’m not enjoying it. It feels awful. Please… please . I hate how it feels when you hit that spot.”
He does exactly what I’m begging him not to.
His next thrust is deeper, faster, the angle perfect and punishing as he starts fucking me with steady, powerful strokes.
Every time he drags over my prostate, I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning, turning the sound into another pathetic whimper instead.
“ Fuck … Slade, stop,” I beg, voice cracking. “It hurts right there … don’t make it worse. Don’t go harder, please …”
Slade’s hand comes down in a sharp smack on my ass, the sting blooming hot as he keeps pounding into me. “Keep telling me how much you hate it,” he growls. “Keep begging me not to go harder. I like hearing you lie through your teeth while your ass sucks me in like it never wants me to leave.”
I’m panting now, the words spilling out faster, more desperate, all of them the opposite of what my body is actually craving.
“Please don’t! I’m definitely not about to come.
I swear I’m not… it doesn’t feel good at all.
Just stop before I… fuck! Please don’t make me come, Slade.
I hate this. I hate how full I feel. Don’t go any harder! ”
The lie tastes sweet on my tongue, and from the way Slade’s rhythm falters for half a second before he fucks me even harder, I know he’s enjoying the game just as much as I am.
“I’m so embarrassed… I think I’m gonna come untouched just from how much it hurts. Fuck, Slade, that’s so humiliating. Please don’t make me come like this. I don’t want to…”
Slade groans deep in his chest, the sound raw and gravelly as he keeps driving into me with those hard, punishing strokes. “Yeah? You better not,” he growls, hips snapping forward sharply. “You don’t deserve it, Drew. Not after the shit you pulled tonight.”
His words only make everything worse, or better.
Every thrust nails that spot inside me again and again, the stretch and burn mixing with the relentless friction against my prostate until I can’t hold it back anymore.
My cock is trapped in my shoved-down jeans and boxers, rubbing against the fabric with every brutal snap of Slade’s hips, and the pressure builds so fast it blindsides me.
I try to keep up the act, voice cracking. “I’m definitely not… fuck , I’m not about to come. It hurts too much. I swear I’m not…!”
But then it hits me. The orgasm crashes through me without warning, sudden and devastating.
My whole body locks up as I finally let out a loud, broken moan…
raw, shameless, and way too loud. It’s the most intense, forbidden, thrilling thing I’ve ever felt, pleasure ripping through me so hard my vision whites out for a second.
I come untouched in my pants, pulsing hot and messy inside the fabric while Slade keeps fucking me through it, his cock dragging relentlessly over that spot and dragging the high out longer than I can handle.
Slade reacts instantly to the sound of my moan. His rhythm stutters, then turns savage. “That’s it,” he growls, voice thick and dangerous. “Take your fucking punishment, Drew. Take every inch while you come like a desperate little slut from the pain.”
He slams into me harder, deeper, chasing his own release with rough, animalistic thrusts.
A few seconds later he buries himself to the hilt and finishes with a low, guttural groan, hips grinding against my ass as he pulses hot and deep inside me.
His grip on my cuffed wrists is bruising while he rides it out, breathing ragged.
Then, just like that… it’s over. Slade stays still for a long moment, catching his breath. I’m still trembling, head spinning, come cooling sticky in my ruined boxers. I do n’t know what I was expecting… more yelling, more roughness, maybe even something softer… but it definitely wasn’t this…
He clears his throat; the sound is so ordinary it feels surreal. Without a word, he reaches down, unlocks the cuffs with the key, and lets them fall open. The metal clinks softly as he pulls them off my wrists and tosses them onto the bed beside me.
“Take a shower,” he says, voice back to that familiar, gruff tone like nothing insane just happened. “We’re having baked ziti for dinner. It’ll be ready in an hour and a half.”
Then he straightens up, pulls out of me in one smooth motion, tucks himself away, and walks out of my room like it’s any other night.
I stay here for a second, dazed, before slowly pushing myself up onto my elbows. The cuffs slide off the edge of the bed and hit the floor with a quiet clatter. I sit fully upright, jeans still shoved down around my thighs, ass sore and leaking, chest heaving as I stare at the empty doorway.
Oh. So, Slade’s really gonna act like that didn’t just happen… and go make pasta?
The smell of him is still all over me. My come is drying in my boxers. My hole is still fluttering from being so thoroughly used. And he’s downstairs probably already preheating the oven like we’re just a normal stepdad and stepson again .
I drag a shaky hand down my face, wincing when I brush the cut on my cheek, and let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. What the fuck just happened?