Blaze POV
Fuck me. I want to destroy him in every way possible, but I have to be careful. He’s never done any of this before. Until I took him, he was a complete virgin. And I’m used to fucking guys my own size who can handle me rough, I have no idea where his actual limits are.
Still… that tiny body of his makes my cock rock hard. The thought of breaking something so small and fragile does dangerous things to me.
He looks anxious as hell, so I start circling him slowly, eyes dragging over every inch of exposed skin. He turns to follow me.
“No. Face forward. Eyes down.”
He obeys, head lowering. I keep circling, drinking him in. That’s when I notice them, a lot of scars. Questions for later.
“You’re so fucking small,” I murmur, stepping in close behind him. “It’s almost too easy to do whatever the fuck I want to you.”
His breathing gets heavier.
“Look at you. Blushing like a shy little virgin when you stripped, and now your cock is twitching and leaking just because I’m walking around you. Just because I’m deciding how I want to break you first.”
He stays silent, but I can hear how ragged his breaths are.
“So fucking desperate. So obedient.” I grab his chin and force his head up. “Tell me what you are.”
He hesitates, eyes dropping.
“Eyes on me,” I snap, tightening my grip. “Look at me and tell me exactly what the fuck you are.”
“G-gay,” he whispers.
I smirk. “Cute. But that’s not what I want to hear. Tell me what you really are. You know the words. I’ve said them while I was buried inside you.”
His gaze drops again. I grip his chin harder, almost bruising.
“Look. At. Me.”
“I-I’m…” His voice cracks. “A c-cocksucker.”
“Good boy. Keep going.”
“A desperate slut.”
I hum in approval and release him, circling once more. “That’s right. You’re just a tight little hole for me to use.” I grab his ass, spreading his cheeks roughly, and spit directly on his hole before stepping back.
“Tell me what I should do to you.”
His chest heaves. “Ruin me.”
I laugh darkly, fist my hand in his hair and yank his head back sharply.
“Try harder, little rabbit.”
“U-use me,” he stutters, voice shaking. “F-fill me up with your cum. Make me your toy.”
Goddamn. The way he stutters those filthy words makes me want to ruin him right here and now.
I lean in close, lips brushing his ear, voice low and vicious.
“That’s a start. But tonight I’m going to do so much worse than that.”
I keep my fist tangled in his hair, yanking his head back further so his throat is exposed. His breathing is already ragged, chest rising and falling fast. My cock throbs painfully at the sight of him like this, naked, flushed and completely at my mercy.
I start light, just testing. My palm cracks across his cheek in a sharp but controlled slap. Not enough to bruise, but enough to make his head snap to the side. Dylan gasps, eyes wide.
“Look at me,” I growl.
He turns his face back. I slap him again, a little harder on the other cheek. His lips part on a shaky exhale.
“You like that, don’t you?” I taunt, voice low. “Getting slapped around like the pathetic little slut you are.”
Before he can answer, I grab his throat with my other hand, fingers wrapping firmly around his neck. I squeeze just enough to make him feel owned. His pulse hammers against my palm. I pull him closer by the hair while I hold his throat, forcing him up onto his toes.
Another slap lands, this one sharper. His eyes water instantly.
“F-fuck…” he stutters, voice hoarse.
“Yeah? You feel that?” I slap him again, then tighten my grip on his throat. “This tiny body was made to be handled. Made to be slapped and choked and used.”
I release his throat only to grab his hair with both hands now, yanking his head back hard while I lean in and bite down on the side of his neck.
He moans, the sound broken and needy. I slap his face one more time, harder, watching the way his cock jumps and leaks a fresh bead of precum onto the floor.
“On your knees,” I order, shoving him down.
He drops instantly. I circle him again, slow and deliberate, then stop right in front of him.
“Now stand back up. I want you to display yourself for me like the desperate whore you are.”
Dylan hesitates for half a second. I grip his chin and force his eyes up to mine.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He stands on shaky legs. I step back, arms crossed, and nod toward the floor.
“Bend over. Hands on your ankles. Spread your legs and show me that hole.”
His entire face burns red, but he obeys. He bends at the waist, hands wrapping around his ankles, legs spreading. The position leaves him completely exposed, ass up, hole on full display, cock hanging heavy and dripping between his thighs. Perfect.
“Fuck, look at you,” I groan, stepping closer. “Holding yourself open for me like a cheap porn star. Does it turn you on knowing how pathetic you look right now?”
I bring my hand down hard on his ass in a loud smack. He jolts but stays in position.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes…” he whispers.
“Louder.”
“Yes,” he says, voice cracking. “It turns me on.”
I smile darkly and slap his ass again, harder. Then I reach between his legs and slap his balls lightly. He whimpers, knees buckling slightly.
“Stay. Still.”
I walk around him, admiring the view from every angle. His small frame trembling in that humiliating position is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I stop behind him again and spit on his hole, watching it twitch.
“Keep holding yourself open. I want to see how greedy this hole gets for me.”
Another hard slap on his ass. Then another. I start building a rhythm, warming his skin up. His breathing turns into desperate little pants.
I grab my belt from the floor where my jeans are, folding it in half. The leather makes a threatening snap as I test it.
“You ready for this, little rabbit?”
He doesn’t answer. I bring the belt down across both cheeks in a sharp crack.
Dylan cries out, his whole body jerking forward.
“Fuck!”
“Language,” I mock, bringing the belt down again. The sound of leather meeting skin fills the room. I spank him steadily, covering every inch of his ass and the tops of his thighs until his pale skin turns a beautiful, angry red.
“Look at this ass,” I growl between strikes. “Turning such a pretty shade for me. You’re going to feel this every time you sit down tomorrow. Every time you think about your future wife, you’re going to remember how I beat your ass raw while you bent over like a desperate slut.”
I pause to run my hand over the burning skin, squeezing hard. He whimpers.
“Spread wider. Show me that hole again.”
He adjusts his grip on his ankles and spreads his legs further. I reward him with another harsh lash of the belt, this one landing right across his ass and catching the underside of his balls. Dylan nearly collapses, a broken moan tearing out of him.
“That’s it. Cry for me. I want to hear how much my little pain slut loves this.”
I keep going, alternating between hard strikes and lighter ones, sometimes pausing to slap his reddened cheeks with my bare hand or spit on his hole again. His legs are shaking violently now, but he’s still holding the position like a good boy.
By the time I finally drop the belt, his ass is glowing bright red, hot to the touch, and he’s leaking steadily onto the floor beneath him.
I grab him by the hair and yank him upright, spinning him around to face me. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he pants.
I slap his face again, lighter this time, then grip his throat and pull him in close.
“You did so fucking well,” I murmur against his lips. “But we’re just getting started.”
I kiss him hard, claiming his mouth while my other hand reaches down to squeeze his burning ass. He moans into the kiss, pressing closer even though his body has to be sore as hell.
When I pull back, I stare straight into his eyes, voice dark and full of promise.
“Tell me again what you are, Dylan. Loud and clear this time. I want to hear every filthy word while your ass is still on fire from my belt.”
He’s trembling, ass glowing red, cock leaking like a faucet. His eyes are glassy with lust and shame. I love breaking him down like this.
“I-I’m…” He swallows hard, voice shaky. “I’m a desperate cocksucker. A pathetic slut. Your tight little hole to use.”
Fuck. That stutter combined with those words hits me straight in the dick. I grab him by the throat and shove him down onto the couch, manhandling his smaller body exactly where I want him, on his back, legs spread wide.
“Good boy,” I growl. “Now keep those legs open for me.”
I drop to my knees between his thighs and wrap my hand around his aching cock. He’s rock hard, throbbing, already dripping all over my fingers. I stroke him slowly, torturously, twisting my wrist at the head just the way I know drives him insane.
“Look at this pathetic cock,” I mock, leaning in so my breath ghosts over the tip. “Leaking everywhere just from getting your ass beaten. You’re not even a man anymore, are you?”
I take him into my mouth in one smooth motion, swallowing him deep until my nose presses against his stomach. Dylan cries out, hips jerking. I pin his thighs down hard with my hands, holding him completely still while I work him with my throat.
I suck him hard and wet, bobbing my head fast, then slow right back down to a teasing pace. Every time I feel his balls draw up and his cock start to pulse, I pull off completely, squeezing the base hard with my fist.
“B-blaze— fuck— please—”
“Not yet,” I snarl, slapping his cock lightly against my tongue. “You don’t get to cum until I say so. You’re going to edge for me like the desperate little whore you are.”
I dive back down, sucking him deep, hollowing my cheeks, working my tongue along the underside while my hand strokes the bottom.
His whole body shakes. I bring him right to the edge again, I can feel it, the way his cock swells, the way his thighs tense, then I pull off and squeeze the base viciously.
He lets out a broken sob, hips bucking uselessly into the air.
I do it again. And again. Five times. Six. Each time I edge him harder with my mouth and hand, sometimes slapping his cock or his balls when he gets too close. His voice gets hoarser, his begging more desperate.
“P-p-please—I can’t—I-I need to cum—Blaze—”
I laugh darkly and manhandle him again, flipping him onto his stomach like he weighs nothing. I yank his hips up high so his chest is pressed into the couch and his reddened ass is presented perfectly.
“Stay just like that,” I order, spreading his cheeks wide with both hands.
I spit on his hole and push two fingers inside him without warning. I curl my fingers immediately, searching for that spot.
The second I brush his prostate he jerks violently, a loud moan tearing out of him.
“There it is,” I growl, rubbing it relentlessly while my other hand reaches underneath to grab his cock again. I stroke him fast, perfectly in sync with my fingers pressing against his prostate.
His whole body starts shaking. I feel him clenching, right on the edge again so I stop everything.
I pull my fingers out and release his cock completely. He sobs into the cushion, ass pushing back desperately, trying to find friction.
I slap his burning ass hard. “Pathetic. Look at you trying to fuck yourself on nothing.”
I push three fingers back inside him, stretching him wider, and go right back to attacking his prostate. At the same time I stroke his cock with rough, fast strokes. His moans turn into constant, broken cries.
Every time he gets close I stop. I edge him mercilessly with my fingers buried deep, milking his prostate, while my hand works his cock. Then I pull away completely, leaving him empty and aching.
On the fourth edge I add a fourth finger, forcing him open wider while I twist and curl them brutally against that sweet spot. Dylan is crying now, real tears soaking the cushion, his small body shaking uncontrollably under my control.
I grab him by the hips and manhandle him again, flipping him onto his back once more so I can see his face. His eyes are red, cheeks wet, lips swollen. He looks completely ruined already and I haven’t even fucked him yet.
I pin his wrists above his head with one hand and shove three fingers back into his ass, hammering his prostate without mercy. My other hand strokes his cock fast and tight.
“You want to cum, little rabbit?” I growl right in his face, slapping his cheek lightly. “You want to shoot your load while I finger-fuck your greedy hole?”
“Y-yes, please...I’ll do anything—”
I lean down and bite his nipple hard, twisting the other one between my fingers at the same time. The pain makes him arch and cry out. I keep the pressure on his prostate, rubbing it in tight, vicious circles while I stroke him right to the edge again.
Then I stop. I pull my fingers out and let go of his cock.
Dylan lets out a wrecked, devastated sob, tears streaming down his face.
I grab his throat and squeeze, forcing him to look at me while I slap his cock hard with my wet fingers.
“You’re not cumming yet,” I tell him, voice dark and cruel. “Not until I’ve played with you some more. Not until this tiny body is shaking so hard you can’t even remember your own name.”
I manhandle him once more, pulling him up and shoving him face-down over the arm of the couch, ass up. I push four fingers back inside him immediately, scissoring and stretching him brutally while my other hand reaches around to pinch and twist his nipples, slap his cock, and squeeze his balls.
Every time he gets close I stop and slap his ass or his cock, keeping him right on that agonizing edge. His voice is hoarse from moaning and begging. His small frame is covered in sweat, ass bright red from the belt and my hands, hole puffy and gaping every time I pull my fingers out.
I lean over his back, pinning him down with my much larger body, and growl into his ear while I slowly rub his prostate again.
“Tell me how much you love being my little pain slut. Tell me how badly you need me to ruin you.”
He’s crying, shaking, completely broken. Good, he can't go back to normal after this.