Chapter 4 #2
It's beautiful to want so badly. How did he go so long without it? Why did he let himself have so little? How did he convince himself that a life of politics was worth more than this?
Peter blinks back tears.
Sebastian puts a hand in his hair. "What are those kisses for? Because I took pity on you and stopped crushing your balls, or because you're such a fucking pain slut you're already in love with me?"
"Hopefully not both," Peter murmurs.
He stares at Sebastian's foot, at the come on it. The urge to lick it off, to be made to do it, has him speaking up.
"I used to imagine I'd be kidnapped. Be taken to a fancy house, washed and tied up, left naked in front of a fire, and some man would come in, and he'd use me.
Whatever he wanted. Anything. Everything.
I could suck him off, I could be a footstool, he could do whatever he wanted. Whip me, or hurt me, and then…"
God. He wishes he hadn't said all that. Wishes he'd been a little more judicious in what he said. He shakes his head, disgusted with himself.
"Do you want to know because it'll shame me?"
"Yeah, actually. I want to know how fucked up you are so I can use you better.
That way we can both get what we want," Sebastian says, and he bends down, gently cups Peter's face in his hands, kisses him softly on the mouth.
"I'll treat you so well, baby. You can trust me to hurt you.
Trust me to… You deserve pleasure, Peter.
This is a game. If it isn't a game and it isn't good for you, then you tell me to go and I will. "
Peter shakes his head, withdraws from the honesty, and looks back at Sebastian's hard cock and plump balls. The pre-come glistening in the slit. A perfect pearl of fluid he should make Peter lick up and swallow.
"If I was good… did everything and didn't cry too much, maybe I'd get to sleep in the bed. Only if I was really good. Usually, it'd be the floor. Usually, I'd cry and go to bed hurting, and he'd be impressed that I could take so much. It would make me special."
"Ah. A special little pain slut who'd ask for more and take what he was given?
Fuck. Beautiful," he says and puts his hand on his own cock, stroking while he looks at Peter.
"I'll use you every fucking day if that's what you want.
Thank you for telling me. I'm gonna reward you now.
You get to choose. You can have a kiss or you can clean your mess off my foot. "
Peter starts to move back so he can lick Sebastian's foot. He's on his hands and knees.
"Nah. Get all the way down on the ground. Prostrate yourself. So fucking lucky, getting to kiss my foot."
He is. He gets down, cock rubbing on the carpet, and sucks the come off Sebastian's foot, licks the top of it. And then he feels Sebastian's other foot on his back, sliding between his cheeks, toes pressing on his hole.
"Grind into the carpet. Fuck it for me. Show me how hot this makes you."
He kisses Sebastian's foot, rests his forehead on it, nose kissing his toes, and humps at the floor. Toes press against his hole, alien and bony. "I can see the blush on your neck. And you're trembling. You're close again, aren't you?"
"I don't know. I haven't felt like this since I was sixteen. Dammit."
Sebastian laughs. "Slut."
"I don't mean to—" he gasps, and Sebastian stands, presses harder against his hole, grinding him into the carpet, and he comes, stunned at his own depravity.
"That's so fucking hot. Come on, I want to fuck you now. Onto the bed."
Peter slowly pushes himself upright but then collapses back down to the carpet, needing a moment to get himself together.
He does a hundred push-ups every fucking day, and this boy makes him so weak he can't get off the floor.
He tries again, crawls to the bed, gets up onto it while the pleasure is still coursing through him, while his cock is still drooling come.
He's desperate to fist himself, but he doesn't. It's still the best orgasm he's ever had. Maybe second best.
"That's good enough," Sebastian says, and Peter stays bent over, half on the bed, feet on the ground.
"You relax a moment. Catch your breath. You're a good slut, and I'm happy with you."
He almost says, thank you, Sir, but that's too much. Sebastian might mock him. He presses his face into the bedding instead.
Sebastian gropes his ass and spanks it gently. Parts his cheeks. His fingers brush over the delicate skin of his hole, tug on the hair of his balls. "You'll get rid of this."
"I… okay."
"How about 'yes, Sebastian.'"
"Yes, Sebastian."
"Good. I might go with you. I want to see. It's gonna fucking hurt. You'll have to hold your knees. We'll get you all smooth and then I'm gonna fuck you and come all over that sore pink skin."
"Yes, Sebastian," he says, already imagining it.
How embarrassing it will be. How ashamed he'll be.
And then Sebastian will be hard. He'll get off on Peter's misery, and he'll come inside Peter.
Sebastian drizzles oil down his crack, presses a finger into him and then two, breaching him and sliding deep.
Peter gasps, his hips shoving forward. Then Sebastian pulls out and drizzles more oil.
"You'll fucking open up. You're a virgin, you say?"
"Yes, Sebastian." His voice is uneven. He clears his throat, although he doesn't think it will help. But he has to do something.
"Hmm, I don't know. This seems like a loose hole to me. You sure you're not slutting it up out there? I bet you take five guys a night and still want more."
"I don't. I swear," Peter whimpers. He hauls in a breath, bracing himself against the burn and tight fit of the three fingers Sebastian is slowly pressing into him.
He shuffles and tilts his hips, wanting it to be easier. Excitement and fear pound through him, indistinguishable from each other. His balls sting from coming so quickly again and again. His dick aches, clinging to hardness, the situation too arousing to soften.
Sebastian's right. He is in love with him already. In love with this.
"I won't hurt you too badly. I know you're a virgin. I want you to come back to me, you know."
"I know. Fuck, I love it. I can take it, Sebastian."
"Okay. Pretty. What a good little slut you are.
And I think this experience will encourage you to buy lube.
Olive oil. God. This is downright medieval.
Here you go," he says, and his three fingers are in as far as they'll go, twisting inside Peter before pulling out.
"I mean, what kind of slut is willing to get fucked with oil in this day and age? "
His hole spasms weirdly, and he puts a hand back, worried he's had an accident or something. He turns to look at Sebastian. Sebastian is slicking up his condom-covered cock, oil dripping off him. Onto his rug. The towel they didn't bother using. Sebastian meets his gaze. Licks his lips.
"What's wrong?" Sebastian asks.
"Nothing… I didn't, it felt weird."
"When you first start doing anal, you're always worried you've crapped yourself. Don't worry about it." He shrugs.
"You say it like you wouldn't be upset?"
Sebastian smacks him gently on the ass. "Would it be great? No. Would it be hot? No. Is it a deal-breaker? Of course not. Shit happens," he says, grinning at his own crude joke.
Peter should let it go. This isn't actually a conversation he wants to have. "What would happen then?"
"We'd clean up and reevaluate?" Sebastian says, unconcerned.
"We?"
"Yeah, we. You're giving me your body. You're letting me hurt you and use you. Part of that is getting taken care of afterwards and being supported during. You know you can say red, right?" Sebastian looks horrified. "God, we didn't even talk about it. That's… unimpressive on my part."
"I won't say red. I'm… it's really going to hurt."
"I'll go slower. It's fine, sweetheart."
"No… that isn't it." He's not sure what the point is. "I'm not wanting nicer or less. I'm—it's going to hurt and not like anything I've ever felt before. I've never hurt this way. Please don't stop," he says. "I don't want red. I don't even want the option to stop. I just want you to do it."
"Don't be stupid. You always want red, Peter. The option." He looks at Peter. Maybe he's about to say something else? "Let's get you three fingers again."
Peter presses his face back into the bed and tries to relax. Two fingers sink in and out. Peter grunts.
"Here. Easy, honey," he says, and he kisses Peter's shoulder. He can feel Sebastian's breath. Sebastian is watching his fingers go in and out of Peter's hole. "Here, honey. You earned it. Pretty little hole."
It burns. It's a lot. The strain, the stretch, is unbearable.
He doesn't even know this pain. It's so intimate and narrow but expansive. He moans. He hates it and it's beautiful at once.
"Relax. You're a slut. You want this." Sebastian's free hand settles on his back, slippery with oil. "Exhale. Give it a little push. Yeah, you need a little more prep. Tight little virgin hole."
"It's a lot," he gasps, and it's almost a sob.
"Good or bad? Did we find something you didn't like? You have got a pretty fucking mouth, Peter. Want me to teach you how to suck cock?"
"No, I love it! Please, please." Peter shudders. Can he come from pain? Is it an orgasm? Is he dying? Peter forces himself to breathe.
"Fuck, that's lovely. Let me in, sweetheart. You just have to let me in. Don't you want to be good for me? Don't you want to get fucked?"
Peter groans when Sebastian's knuckles are flush against his rim. It's the best pain he's ever felt. It's so much agony, and the bliss is close, but he just can't quite find it.
"Please, please," he whimpers.
"What do you need?"
"More. Only a little… I'm—"
Sebastian's fingers pull out, press back in. Peter goes limp on the bed. Bliss. The word "yes" is very far away.
"There it is. You're incredible. Fuck."