Chapter Seven
I’m naked in front of the cameras. In front of the film crew. In front of Dmitri.
I’m naked, and I’m on all fours.
I’m naked, and I’m on all fours, and I’m loving it.
I’m loving being on display. I’m loving my lack of control over what happens next. I’m loving the fact that Dmitri is about to fuck me.
At least, I hope he’s about to fuck me.
My punishment for earlier was that I’m not allowed to suck him off, which does feel like a tragedy all on its own. But I’m still going to enjoy his dick in other ways. I mean, it would be a disappointing porn video if I didn’t, wouldn’t it?
“Look at you,” Dmitri purrs from behind me. “All ready for my North Pole, aren’t you?”
Oh my god, the puns are going to kill me if the wait for his dick doesn’t.
But I’m being a good sub right now, so I bob my head. “Please, Daddy.”
“Patience, precious.”
I open my mouth to protest —or beg again— but all that comes out is a gasp as his warm, wet tongue laps over my hole. He does it again and again, using his big, tattooed hands to part my cheeks and really go to town, tickling my skin with his beard.
I lose track of what I’m saying, of my pleas and curses and babbled obscenities. All I can feel is his mouth and that tongue, slowly spearing its way inside me, filling me and prepping me for a thorough stuffing, like the luckiest of stockings.
Oh, god, now I’m thinking puns I’m not even going to get a chance to use.
When a thick finger joins in with his tongue, stretching me out so he can lick and —holy fuck— suck even deeper, I throw my weight onto my left forearm so I can reach underneath myself and…
“Uh-uh,” Dmitri chides, biting at my still-tender ass cheek. “No playing with yourself. That pleasure is all mine.”
I know better than to complain about this new rule, but I can’t help whining. “Daddy, I need…”
“You’ll get my candy cane, precious. Just be patient.”
Oh, sure, I can be patient. I’m just going to combust first.
“You —ah! — you only get to call it a candy cane if I can suck on it.”
My impatience is making me bratty and I brace myself for the punishment, trying not to whine as the magical tongue and finger disappear from the place I want them most.
“Miles…” Dmitri’s voice is calm and even mildly amused. I feel his palms running over my ass again. It’s a warning. “Whose fault was it that you’re not getting to suck on Santa’s candy cane, hmm?”
“M-mine,” I answer, trying to sound remorseful and not like I’m desperate to just get back what we were doing. “My fault, Santa. Daddy. I know.”
He chuckles and rubs over the flesh that is still a bit raw and tingly from earlier.
I try not to think about our audience this time, but I’m getting a bit twitchy knowing that the cameras are probably aimed right at my pink cheeks.
“And what do you think happens to naughty boys who complain about the punishments they’ve rightfully earned? ”
Swallowing, I offer, “More punishments? A…another spanking?”
“Well, I still want to fuck this pretty ass of yours, darling boy, so no. No spanking.” I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed to hear that, but he continues, effectively distracting me, “No…I think maybe we need to cover up that mouth of yours so you can’t get yourself in more trouble.”
He climbs off the bed and I turn my body a little to watch as he picks up the red bag he’d entered the scene with. His cock bobs with his movement, but he pays it no mind, too busy with his prop.
Santa’s got a full sack, I think yet another ridiculous pun, barely managing to conceal my snort while he goes digging inside it.
“Lucky for you, the elves have sent lots of presents to help at a time like this,” he says, then pulls out a ball gag. “What’s your traffic light color, Miles?”
Oh, god, people are going to see me in a gag while a man wearing half a Santa suit fucks me.
“Green,” I practically moan. “Like…neon green. With sparkles.”
Dmitri arches an eyebrow, his lips twitching underneath his luscious beard. “Good boy.”
My cock jerks, dribbling the evidence of how much I liked that. As desperately as I want to, I do not reach for it.
The mattress dips as he straddles my hips and leans over my body, his soft, furry belly rubbing along the dip in my spine. I arch up instinctively, and he brings the gag to my mouth, holding the two ends of the leather strap on either side of my face. “Open wide, precious.”
I do as I’m told, closing my mouth as best I can around the solid, round intrusion. With the drape of Daddy’s open jacket, I feel completely cloaked in him, and I love it. Then he sits back a bit, securing the gag around the back of my head, and I lament the fact that we can’t kiss anymore.
I wonder if he feels as punished by this discovery as I do.
The bratty, belligerent part of me which has come out to play today hopes that he does.
Dmitri hands me a tinkling Christmas bell. “If you need to safe word,” he tells me, “give it a shake. Understood?”
I nod. He instructs me to demonstrate and I do.
“Now,” he settles behind me again, and the hair of his legs brushes my bare thighs while his sticky cockhead bumps over the curve of my ass where it meets the base of my spine, “if you’re a good boy and you do not come, I will take the gag out when I’m done.
Nod if you understand. Ring the bell if you have questions or don’t consent. ”
I nod enthusiastically.
I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good. You’re going to let me finish what I was doing earlier, aren’t you?”
“Mmmhmmm,” I manage around the gag, nodding again.
Then the warmth of his skin on mine retreats, and his hands part my cheeks again, and I cry out when he dives back in without warning or gentle preamble.
My fingers scrabble at the sheets, and I whine and rock back onto his tongue and what is now two of his fingers, fucking myself with wild abandon.
My mouth is stretched wide around the gag and between that and my heavy, panted breaths, I am drooling over my chin and down onto the sheets.
I must look wrecked.
I definitely feel wrecked.
“Mmm,” Dmitri’s teeth graze my left ass cheek, and he soothes the sting with a sweet kiss, still pistoning his fingers in and out of me, “you’re doing so well so far, precious.” He crooks his fingers, probing and prodding until—
“Mmmrrraaaaa!” I can’t contain the strangled sound, not even around the gag.
“Looks like I found your magic spot. Isn’t that right, darling boy?”
I will not come. I will not come.
Dmitri twists his fingers and prods at my prostate again. I whimper, pushing back hard.
“You’re so responsive, Miles. Such a good boy for Daddy. Maybe you’ll make it onto my nice list after all.”
With the gag in my mouth, the babbled nonsense I want to spill comes out as a mumbled mess of “Mmmhmmm mmmhhhmmmhhmmhmmm.”
It’s honestly a miracle that I don’t shoot a load all over the bedsheets at this point. Especially with his praise making my belly flip and my heart race.
“That’s it, honey, ride my fingers. Show me how much you want my cock.”
I do exactly that, completely shamelessly, begging and pleading around the gag, the sounds giving away my meaning even while the words are mangled. I increase my volume when he takes the fingers away, only settling when I hear the click of a bottle snapping open.
Oh my god. Yes. Yes, please. Yes.
Three fingers press inside me soon after, slippery and a bit cool from the lube, but I sink back onto them, welcoming the stretch and the burn.
“Fuck, you’re taking that so well, darling boy.”
“Nnnnggghhh.” I’m close to having to use the bell. Not because I’m uncomfortable, but because I’m afraid I will go over the edge again.
Breaking that rule once during the shoot, I’m fine with.
If I do it a second time, I don’t think I can ever look myself in the mirror again. If I come, it would push me into a level of shame and embarrassment that isn’t kinky or enjoyable. It would make me feel like I’m a bad sub, not being able to follow a simple instruction.
Do. Not. Come. I think, bending forward to glare in the direction of my disobedient dick. Don’t you even fucking think about—
“Nnngnmmgbbbnnn.”
My whole body tenses up, with Dmitri having stroked my prostate again.
One more tiny bump to that sensitive bundle of nerves and I’ll be a goner.
“You’ve been such a good boy, Miles,” Dmitri coos the commendation as he slowly withdraws his fingers, and I’m so distracted by relief that the praise, thankfully, does little more than give me a bit of a buzz.
“So I’m going to remove the gag and you’re going to roll onto your back, legs spread, ready for my cock. ”
Thank you, Santa. Thank you, the three ghosts of Christmas. Thank you, Dasher and Prancer and…Tequila and Moscato, or whatever the other reindeer are called.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
We shuffle around and I sit in the middle of the bed, holding still as he gently undoes the leather straps.
He tosses the used toy aside, and it lands on the floor with a solid thump, which we both ignore.
I work my jaw to ease the ache. Dmitri reaches out with those big, strong hands of his and cups either side of my face, massaging gently.
“You did so good, Miles,” he reiterates, this time softly and with a warmth that makes my throat feel tight.
He’s not expecting any sort of reply from me, though, instead dipping his head down to kiss me. It’s a surprisingly sweet kiss, for how insanely erotic this whole scene has been so far. Just a brush of his lips to mine, without any pushing for more, though I part my lips for him anyway.
I’m so weak for him, it’s not even funny.
I sigh as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing mine — caressing it, even.
I whimper and chase after him when he lazily draws away, hitching my thighs up his sides while his cockhead nudges at my entrance, blood-hot and thick.
“You still want my dick, precious?”
“Yes. Fuck yes. Green light, Daddy.”
That’s all he needs before he pushes inside, driving in steadily, but slowly, making sure that I feel every glorious inch. We both groan and pant, and when he’s fully seated, his balls nestled snugly above the curve of my cheeks, he leans down to kiss me again.
This time the kiss is sloppier. Needier. Filthier. It’s all tongue and wetness and barely restrained desperation.
Then he starts to talk, murmuring delicious, dirty praises as his hips begin a torturously slow roll and grind.
“You feel so good, Miles. So tight around me. Fuck, you fit me like a glove.”
“Daddy,” I gasp as his rolling nudges that spot inside me that makes me see stars, “Daddy, please. I need…”
“What do you need? Say it, Miles.” He thrusts again with a bit more force, aiming for that same spot and hitting his mark with unfair accuracy. I arch from the mattress, crying out, but he insists, “Say it.”
“More!” I cry, the word bursting from somewhere deep in my chest. “More, Daddy! H-harder —ohhh— faster. Fuck me hard. Use me.”
“Oh, God,” his curse is guttural and raw, sending tingles from my toes to my brain and back again, “you’re such. A. Good. Boy.” Every word is punctuated with a hard thrust, gradually increasing in force and speed. I’m starting to see stars. Little bolts of lightning igniting in my veins.
“Daddy,” it’s less word and more like ninety percent air as it’s pushed from me with every delightfully rough shove of his hips and slap of skin connecting, “Daddy. Daddy. Ah. Daddy.”
Pressure has well and truly built at the base of my spine, and it’s all I can do to try and ignore the feeling of Dmitri’s belly rubbing along my cock with each movement.
My balls have drawn up so tightly, I’m convinced they’ll be permanently stuck this way.
I’m tingling all over, my heart racing and brain completely mush.
“Oh, precious,” Dmitri groans, “you’re clenching…so fucking tight. I’m gonna come.”
Me too, I think, but I’ve lost the ability to speak, concentrating on holding back, instead letting out little “Ungh, ungh, ungh”s as we rock together.
I’m practically a pretzel at this point, bent in half with my knees near my ears as Dmitri throws his body weight over me to kiss me again without any finesse at all.
I grip at his shoulders, snaking my trembling hands under the jacket, needing to feel skin on skin.
“Come with me, darling boy,” he demands, “you’ve been so good. You can come now. Come for Daddy. Come—oh, fuck, just like that. Good boy. Good boy. Fuuuuuuck.”
Somewhere in the midst of my convulsing, I realize that he’s coming, too, flooding me with warmth and wetness that feels so naughty as he carefully pulls out, given that it trickles out with him.
I snuggle into Dmitri, dimly aware of Jake cutting filming while I fight the heaviness of my eyelids.
He chuckles and gives me a gentle shake. “C’mon, honey, let’s go shower.”
“Oh, bonus content?” one of the camera guys asks, and Dmitri shakes his head.
“Not today.” He glances over at Jake. “How’d we do for timing? Do we need to add to the scene?”
“I don’t think we’ll need to trim much in editing from what I saw, so I think that’s a wrap.” Jake grins. “I have a good feeling about this one.”
Feeling a bit more awake and alert, my lips quirk. “What will it be called?”
Jake frowns. “The same thing it was going to be called when you were booked for the gig. Miracle On 69th Street.”
If I’d known that…
“But we didn’t even sixty-nine,” I protest. “You don’t think people will expect that?”
Jake shrugs. “It’s porn, Miles. It’s not that complex.”
“But…”
“What else would you suggest?” Dmitri cuts in swiftly, laughing, “My suggestion is Santa’s Ho…Ho Ho. Or, oooh! Santa’s Ho Fo’ Sho’.”
Snorting, Jake and I shoot him down in unison with an emphatic, “No.”
Dmitri takes it in stride, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and offering me his hand. “Fine, ignore my genius. But come shower with me, anyway.”
It’s not an offer I can refuse, especially as a pang of melancholy hits with the realization that our time together is ending and so is the manufactured festive bubble I found myself in.
Oh, sure, the real holiday season is only just around the corner, but for a little while there, I really did lose myself in the fun and fantasy of our Christmas scene…and, somehow, I don’t think blasting Mariah Carey on repeat is going to help recapture that.
Still, I need to consider myself lucky. I got to participate in an extended scene with my dream Daddy Dom and I’m getting paid for it. The other subs at The Grove are going to be so jealous!
You never know, I muse as Dmitri finally sheds his jacket and adjusts the water temperature before pulling me into the large shower stall with him, maybe we’ll hook up at The Grove again sometime.
I’m adding that to my Christmas wish list.