Hello Desire

Indie Smut rp. Multimuse. Mun is 28 years old. Pretty much only writes submissive boys these days

[helloxdesire]

Disappointment flashed over Ethan's face before settling into acceptance. He wanted to put a hand on Addison's skin, to feel the presence of the other man, but Addison was right. He was in control here, not Ethan. His Disappointment was short lived though, because then Addison kissed him, deep and intimate and for a brief moment the boy felt absolute bliss.

Then Addison's hand wrapped around his member and Ethan's body jolted as he gasped against Addison's lips. He was too close, he couldn't take much of this without spilling, and Addison had made it clear he wouldn't be coming.

"Please," he gasped helplessly as Addison pulled back, his own eyes pressed shut as he focused on being good and holding back for his Daddy. The strokes got firmer and Ethan's control was hanging by a hair. A very frail, damaged hair. "Daddy, p- please I can't I'm-" he whined, forcing his eyes open. He tried to explain that he wasn't good enough for this, that he couldn't hold back like Sir wanted, but then the words registered. The older man meant to make him come.

Ethan could hardly believe it. He'd gotten his reward, he wasn't supposed to get to come tonight, and yet Daddy stroked him faster and harder, calling him Puppy. When Addison ordered him to let go the dam of resistance burst and Ethan's world seemed to explode in pleasure. The release was immense, crashing through him like a tidal wave. He felt his back arch and his toes curl in response to the feeling. Just as he was coming down Addison kissed him again, and Ethan, exhausted as he was, kissed back the best he could.

As their lips parted Ethan looked at Addison, wide eyed and in awe. His lips felt tingly after the kiss, and his body still felt like he was buzzing after the intense orgasm. He ached to ask to touch Addison again, but he didn't, not wanting to be told no again. Instead he inched just a little bit closer to Addison, wincing as he did. "I- uh thank you, Sir," he managed after a moment. "Are- uh are you done now?" He was part worried that Addison would want to keep going. He wanted to be used and to serve Addison, but he was reaching the limits of how much he could take in one night. His every muslce was aching, and he really didn't want to end up not being able to take what Addison had in store for him.

[cxncordia]

The question, so raw and vulnerable, hung in the air between them. It wasn't a challenge. It was a quiet, desperate plea, a whispered admission of limits reached. Addison saw the flicker of fear in the boy's eyes, the exhaustion etched into every line of his face, and felt a profound sense of satisfaction settle over him. He had pushed him to the absolute edge, had taken him apart so thoroughly that the boy now needed to ask if the ordeal was over. It was the final, perfect confirmation of his control.

A slow, genuine smile touched Addison's lips, a rare expression that held nothing of the predator and everything of the architect surveying his completed work. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shifted, moving with an easy grace that belied the intensity of their recent exertions. He slid off the bed and padded silently toward the en-suite bathroom. The soft click of the light switch was followed by the sound of running water.

When he returned, he held a damp, warm washcloth. He sat on the edge of the bed, his movements deliberate, and gently took Ethan's wrist in his hand, pulling it away from where it had been resting on the mattress. He began to clean the boy, starting with the mess on his stomach and chest. His touch was meticulous, almost reverent. He wiped away the evidence of Ethan's orgasm, then moved to the sweat and tears on his face, the cloth soothing against the flushed, sensitive skin. He cleaned the bite mark on his shoulder with a particular gentleness, a silent acknowledgment of his mark.

This was the final, crucial step. The aftercare. It was what separated a mere encounter from a true submission. It was the promise that the breaking was purposeful, that the boy was not simply a vessel for pleasure but a valued possession to be cared for.

"Yes, pup," he finally said, finishing and setting the cloth aside. His words were low and soothing. "We are done for tonight." He watched the tension visibly drain from Ethan's body, the boy's shoulders slumping in relief. It was a beautiful sight.

He stood and pulled back the duvet and top sheet, which had been kicked to the foot of the bed in their frenzy. He straightened them, then patted the space beside him. "Get in," he commanded softly.

He waited for Ethan to obey, watching the boy wince as he slid between the cool, clean sheets. Addison followed, settling in beside him. He pulled the covers up over them both, then reached out, wrapping an arm around Ethan's waist and pulling him close until their bodies were flush, spooning him from behind. He could feel the faint tremors still running through the boy's frame. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Ethan's neck, right at the hairline.

"You were incredible," he murmured against the skin. "You took everything I gave you and asked for more. You have made me very proud, puppy."

He held him like that for a long while, simply breathing, letting the comfort of the shared warmth and silence settle around them. He wasn't just a dom who had fucked a virgin. He was a creator who had remade a boy in his image. And now, he was the keeper of what he had created. The thought filled him with a deep, possessive contentment. He tightened his arm slightly, a silent, final claim.

"Sleep," he ordered softly. "I have you. You're safe."

[helloxdesire]

Addison smiled, but didn't otherwise answer, getting up from the bed instead. Ethan made a low confused sound. Had he misinterpreted the smile? Was Addison upset with him for asking? He saw the light turn on in the bathroom and heard the sink. Maybe Addison just needed to clean up a little? Then the man returned, and Ethan's pulse, which had picked up when Addison got up, slowed down again.

Being washed by Addison was a new intimacy. Ethan felt the cloth against his skin, and the man's fingers so gentle on his wrist. This was soft and caring, in such stark contrast to where they'd started. Not that Addison hadn't been kind or caring earlier, he'd helped Ethan, restrained his arms when he was failing, but this was softer. He sighed softly and enjoyed the sensation without a word. Only when Addison stopped, did he speak, a soft "thank you," before the man confirmed that they were done now.

He struggled to get on his feet so Addison could get the sheets in order, whimpering as his muscles protested. He got in next to Addison, wincing and whining softly. Moving hurt, and he was too exhausted to be stoic about it. Instead he settled in next to Addison, gasping happily as he was pulled close to the other man. He'd wanted to touch Addison, to hold on to him. Being held, was even better. Addison's arms around him became castle walls, keeping him safe and giving him a space to be weak and vulnerable. "Thank you, Sir" he whispered again, taking in the praise. He'd been good. As inexperienced and unprepared as he was, he'd still made his Sir proud.

He let himself rest in Addison's arms, relaxing in his firm embrace, resisting sleep as he just wanted to feel every second of this for a bit longer, then a bit longer, until Addison softly ordered him to sleep. He closed his eyes, murmured a "good night, Daddy," then drifted of to sleep.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan felt the way Addison's rhythm changed, readying himself for the man to pull out again and leave him panting and empty. He wondered what position Addison would get him into next. He hoped it would be one that was easy to hold, because Ethan was so exhausted. He didn't feel like he could take more, but knew he would obey any command Addison gave. He wondered distantly if his muscles would give in, if Addison would understand when he couldn't be good anymore. He hand on his throat was tighter, more possessive.

Addison had to be close again. His thrusts were erratic and quick. Any second now he'd pull out and Ethan promised himself not to whimper or complain. He'd be good.

But then Addison didn't pull out. He roared and came to a halt inside Ethan, like he was petrified. Then he felt the flood of something hot inside him, pushing deep into his gut. Addison was cumming. His Daddy finally released inside him. For a moment Addison didn't sound as composed as he always was. His breath was ragged as the orgasm went on and then stopped, leaving Ethan feeling so full of cock and cum. This felt like confirmation that he was owned.

Daddy pulled out, and to his own surprise Ethan did manage not to whimper. He remained still as a statue, even as jealousy tore through him when Addison just collapsed onto the bed. He wanted that. He wanted to give his aching muscles a break, but he wasn't going to fail Addison now. So he remained on his hands and knees, trembling slightly, hurting. The finger on his back was a welcome contact, but brought with it the question of how long Addison would want to watch him suffer. Mercifully it wasn't long before the command came, laced in soft, gentle permission.

Lowering himself to the mattress hurt. Every muscle in his arms and legs protested against every inch of movement and Ethan could hear himself whimper and gasp, unable to stop himself. Finally he was down on his side, panting from the ordeal. Everything ached and he had to wipe away fresh tears from his eyes to look at his Sir. The man was stunning, and his eyes were softer now, looking almost affectionate, although Ethan was quick to remind himself that didn't necessarily mean anything. He was probably just pleased with Ethan's performance, it didn't mean he'd want more with him, even if the gentle touch and soft kiss felt so soothing and nice.

"I-" Ethan's voice was hoarse and foreign, and he had to clear his throat to manage more than that one syllable. "I feel goo- well, uh," he frowned trying to pick the right words, forcing his exhausted brain to cooperate. "I'm sore, and everything aches, and I feel- uh I'm so hard it feels like I'm going to explode, Sir. But... but it's good. I feel good, because all of it is from obeying you." He winced, feeling like maybe he was too cheesy. "I- may I touch you? Please?"

[cxncordia]

"Not yet," the response was clear and simple. "This is also mine to command."

This final declaration was spoken with an intimacy that was so much more potent than any command. He leaned in and kissed the boy then, a deep, claiming kiss that was an answer and an absolution. His other hand slid down the sweat-slick plane of Ethan's belly to wrap around the desperate, flushed length of his cock. It was hot and heavy in his palm, twitching at the touch. He gave it one slow, experimental stroke, from base to tip, and felt Ethan's entire body shudder, a choked gasp swallowed by their kiss.

He broke the kiss, wanting to watch. He wanted to see the boy's face as he came apart, to see the precise moment he broke. He began to stroke him in earnest, a firm, steady rhythm. His thumb brushed over the sensitive head on every upstroke, smearing the bead of pre-cum that gathered there.

"Look at me," he commanded, a low growl in his tone. "I want you to watch me while I make you come."

He increased the pace, his fist flying over the boy's cock, a tight, perfect sheath. He could feel the tension building in Ethan's body, the way his body reacted to his hand on the boy's cock. He was so close, teetering on the edge. Addison leaned in, pressing his forehead against Ethan's, their breath mingling in the charged space between them.

"That's it, puppy," he murmured, the words a dark, seductive purr. "Let go. Give me everything. Come for me."

The words were the final push. He witnessed the way the boy was cumming and enjoying the pleasure, which Addison did not let him forget it was by his doing: He then leaned in and kissed Ethan again, a deep, possessive kiss, letting him taste himself on Addison's tongue. It was a final branding, a closing of the circle. When he pulled back, he looked at the boy. He looked thoroughly and utterly ruined, and he had never looked more beautiful. He looked at the mess on Ethan's stomach and chest, then at the boy's face, a mess of sweat and tears and cum. He was a masterpiece of debauchery, and Addison was the artist. He was so, so proud.

[helloxdesire]

Disappointment flashed over Ethan's face before settling into acceptance. He wanted to put a hand on Addison's skin, to feel the presence of the other man, but Addison was right. He was in control here, not Ethan. His Disappointment was short lived though, because then Addison kissed him, deep and intimate and for a brief moment the boy felt absolute bliss.

Then Addison's hand wrapped around his member and Ethan's body jolted as he gasped against Addison's lips. He was too close, he couldn't take much of this without spilling, and Addison had made it clear he wouldn't be coming.

"Please," he gasped helplessly as Addison pulled back, his own eyes pressed shut as he focused on being good and holding back for his Daddy. The strokes got firmer and Ethan's control was hanging by a hair. A very frail, damaged hair. "Daddy, p- please I can't I'm-" he whined, forcing his eyes open. He tried to explain that he wasn't good enough for this, that he couldn't hold back like Sir wanted, but then the words registered. The older man meant to make him come.

Ethan could hardly believe it. He'd gotten his reward, he wasn't supposed to get to come tonight, and yet Daddy stroked him faster and harder, calling him Puppy. When Addison ordered him to let go the dam of resistance burst and Ethan's world seemed to explode in pleasure. The release was immense, crashing through him like a tidal wave. He felt his back arch and his toes curl in response to the feeling. Just as he was coming down Addison kissed him again, and Ethan, exhausted as he was, kissed back the best he could.

As their lips parted Ethan looked at Addison, wide eyed and in awe. His lips felt tingly after the kiss, and his body still felt like he was buzzing after the intense orgasm. He ached to ask to touch Addison again, but he didn't, not wanting to be told no again. Instead he inched just a little bit closer to Addison, wincing as he did. "I- uh thank you, Sir," he managed after a moment. "Are- uh are you done now?" He was part worried that Addison would want to keep going. He wanted to be used and to serve Addison, but he was reaching the limits of how much he could take in one night. His every muslce was aching, and he really didn't want to end up not being able to take what Addison had in store for him.

[helloxdesire]

The pace picked up. Addison fucked him faster and harder, like he was trying to shatter both Ethan and the bed. The sub unclenched vis hands only to clench them around the sheets, like he had to hold on to the bed. Addison's pace was brutal and ruthless, and Ethan could feel the bed creak under them. This was so new to him, but he felt sure that Addison was close. Then, unexpectedly, the man came to a halt, his cock burried deep within Ethan. Did he think Ethan was too close? He was really hard, but not at risk for disobeying unless Daddy touched his cock.

Finally Addison vegan to pull out, and Ethan readied himself for the next thrust. It didn't come. Instead the boy whimpered as Addison pulled out, leaving him empty and confused. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, watching as Addison stood up. To stop himself from complaining he bit into his lip, trembling with need. He wondered if this was it, if Addison didn't plan to release inside him. He almost gave in to the temptation to ask, starting to let go of his lip when Addison finally spoke.

Moving felt impossible, but Ethan forced his muscles to cooperate. He whimpered and struggled to turn over and get on his hands and knees. It was an embarrassingly slow process, but he managed. Then Addison kept talking, telling him they would keep going. Ethan gave a weak nod. He wanted to be Addison's canvas, to take anything the man wanted to give him, he was just so exhausted. He wasn't sure just how long Addison meant to keep going, but he had a feeling he'd be completely spent.

Finally Addison thrust into him again, tearing a groan from Ethan. The new angle went deeper, hitting his spot with a new precision. "Daddy!" he gasped, nodding to show his understanding. This time Addison jumped straight into a fast, punishing pace, and Ethan was reduced to a mess of groans and grunts in no time. Addison's hand found his throat, making Ethan feel more vulnerable, only adding to his arousal.

"Yours," he managed to gasp in agreement. He wanted to be Addison's, to belong to the older man and get to feel this owned all the time.

[cxncordia]

"Yours."

The single word, torn from Ethan's throat, raw and ragged, was the final surrender. It was the key that unlocked the last cage inside Addison. The tight leash of control he had maintained, the strategic denial of his own climax—it all shattered into a million pieces. The dominant, the teacher, the guide—they all receded, consumed by a primal, all-consuming need to claim.

The hand around Ethan's throat tightened, not to cut off air, but to assert absolute ownership, to feel the frantic, vulnerable pulse against his palm as proof of the life he held in his hands. Addison's rhythm became a blur, a desperate, punishing tempo that was no longer about teaching or even pleasure. It was about obliteration. He was trying to fuck Ethan through the mattress, to merge their bodies until there was no telling where he ended and the boy began.

The word echoed in his mind, a litany of possession. Yours. Yours. Yours. It was a drug, more potent than any he'd ever known. The coil in his gut, which had been a taut, controlled spring, now snapped with the force of a hurricane. His vision blurred, the world narrowing to the slick, tight heat gripping him, the sight of Ethan's back arching in perfect submission, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh in a brutal, percussive rhythm.

He felt the crest break, not as a wave but as a cataclysm. A white-hot explosion at the base of his spine that shot through him with the force of a lightning strike. He drove forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural roar that was torn from the deepest part of him. His entire body went rigid, a bowstring drawn to its breaking point and finally released.

His release was violent, a searing, pulsing flood that poured into the boy, a physical manifestation of his claim. He held himself there, deep inside, as the spasms wracked his body, each pulse a renewed branding. For a long moment, the world dissolved into nothing but sensation—the overwhelming pleasure, the sound of his own ragged breaths, the feel of Ethan's trembling body beneath his.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the roaring in his ears subsided, replaced by the frantic thumping of his own heart. He became aware of the sweat dripping from his brow onto Ethan's back, the slight tremble in his own arms as he supported himself. He was panting, utterly spent in a way he hadn't been in years.

He waited until the last aftershock had faded, until the desperate urge to thrust had completely abated. Then, with a deliberate slowness that was as much for his own shaky control as it was for the boy's benefit, he pulled out. The sensation was almost painfully sensitive, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

He collapsed onto the bed beside Ethan, not touching, just sharing the space, letting the silence settle around them, thick and heavy. He turned his head, watching the boy. Ethan was still on his hands and knees, a statue carved from exhaustion and submission, trembling minutely. He hadn't moved, hadn't collapsed. He was still obeying.

A fierce, possessive pride swelled in Addison's chest. He reached out, his fingers tracing a line down Ethan's spine, from the nape of his neck to the cleft of his ass. The skin was damp with sweat, hot to the touch.

"Down, puppy," he murmured, his voice hoarse, rough with use. "Lie down. On your side. Face me."

It was a command, but a gentler one. The lesson was over. The claiming was complete. Now came the part that was just as important, the part that so many dominants forgot: the aftermath. The care. The reinforcement.

He watched as Ethan slowly, painstakingly, lowered himself to the mattress. The boy's movements were stiff, pained. He curled onto his side, facing Addison, his eyes heavy-lidded, dazed. He looked wrecked. Beautifully, utterly wrecked. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, his lips were swollen, his body bore the marks of Addison's possession—the faint red lines on his back from where Addison's hips had met him, the darker marks from the belt, the bite mark on his shoulder.

Addison shifted, moving closer until their bodies were almost touching. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Ethan's forehead. "You did well," he said, his voice softening further, losing the dominant edge, becoming something else. Something closer to affection. "You pleased me immensely."

He let his hand rest on Ethan's cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. "You were so good for me, pup. So very good." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Ethan's forehead, different from the brutal intimacy of moments before. It was a kiss of benediction, of approval. "How do you feel?" he asked, the question genuine.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan felt the way Addison's rhythm changed, readying himself for the man to pull out again and leave him panting and empty. He wondered what position Addison would get him into next. He hoped it would be one that was easy to hold, because Ethan was so exhausted. He didn't feel like he could take more, but knew he would obey any command Addison gave. He wondered distantly if his muscles would give in, if Addison would understand when he couldn't be good anymore. He hand on his throat was tighter, more possessive.

Addison had to be close again. His thrusts were erratic and quick. Any second now he'd pull out and Ethan promised himself not to whimper or complain. He'd be good.

But then Addison didn't pull out. He roared and came to a halt inside Ethan, like he was petrified. Then he felt the flood of something hot inside him, pushing deep into his gut. Addison was cumming. His Daddy finally released inside him. For a moment Addison didn't sound as composed as he always was. His breath was ragged as the orgasm went on and then stopped, leaving Ethan feeling so full of cock and cum. This felt like confirmation that he was owned.

Daddy pulled out, and to his own surprise Ethan did manage not to whimper. He remained still as a statue, even as jealousy tore through him when Addison just collapsed onto the bed. He wanted that. He wanted to give his aching muscles a break, but he wasn't going to fail Addison now. So he remained on his hands and knees, trembling slightly, hurting. The finger on his back was a welcome contact, but brought with it the question of how long Addison would want to watch him suffer. Mercifully it wasn't long before the command came, laced in soft, gentle permission.

Lowering himself to the mattress hurt. Every muscle in his arms and legs protested against every inch of movement and Ethan could hear himself whimper and gasp, unable to stop himself. Finally he was down on his side, panting from the ordeal. Everything ached and he had to wipe away fresh tears from his eyes to look at his Sir. The man was stunning, and his eyes were softer now, looking almost affectionate, although Ethan was quick to remind himself that didn't necessarily mean anything. He was probably just pleased with Ethan's performance, it didn't mean he'd want more with him, even if the gentle touch and soft kiss felt so soothing and nice.

"I-" Ethan's voice was hoarse and foreign, and he had to clear his throat to manage more than that one syllable. "I feel goo- well, uh," he frowned trying to pick the right words, forcing his exhausted brain to cooperate. "I'm sore, and everything aches, and I feel- uh I'm so hard it feels like I'm going to explode, Sir. But... but it's good. I feel good, because all of it is from obeying you." He winced, feeling like maybe he was too cheesy. "I- may I touch you? Please?"

[helloxdesire]

Something changed. Addison slowed his thrusts, and Ethan first thought it was just for the sake of tormenting him, but something in Addison's eyes made it clear that there was something else. He froze as Addison spoke, his body going rigid under the other man. He hadn't lied. He'd never told Addison he'd had sex before, but he certainly hadn't told him he was a virgin either. He had deliberately let Addison assume he'd been fucked before, certain that if Addison didn't think Ethan could handle him he definitely wouldn't be willing to give him a chance if he knew. He hadn't thought Addison would be able to tell, but of course he could.

He forced himself to nod when Addison told him not to lie. He felt pathetic, crying from being fucked. How could he possibly have thought Addison wouldn't be able to tell. The condescending tone added to his shame, made it clear there was never a chance of fooling Addison. "Sorry," he gasped. He wasn't allowed to talk, but this felt big enough that he had to say he was sorry, even if Addison didn't like that word.

Then Addison used that phrase again. Good boy. He wasn't upset. The next sorry died on Ethan's lips as Addison told him this was a gift. He thought back to the handful of guys he'd turned down, grateful he hadn't let either of them fuck him, hadn't let them take this moment away from Addison and himself. He nodded again, trying to show his understanding. Addison was right, no one else could have done him like this, broken him down like that before even touching his hole, putting his tongue to it to make sure he was a trembling mess before the fucking even started, and then claim his hole like he owned it. As if to prove his point Addison started moving again, each thrust hitting his prostate, driving him mad with need. He felt like he was going to explode if Daddy didn't let him come. Then he remembered that he wouldn’t be coming and he whimpered weakly just as Addison started telling him he should be thanking him.

"Thank you," he managed to gasp while Addison kept fucking him. "Th- ah, thank you D- addy." He was falling apart, dissolving into too much pleasure. Nothing would compare to this, he was certain of it, as certain as he was that he needed to feel this way again. He heard the edge return to Addison's voice, replacing the warm, condecending tone that made Ethan feel strangely small. Addison was giving him orders now, and Ethan knew, even coming apart as he was, that he needed to obey.

"You, Sir," he gasped. "You own it- ah!" He gasped clenching his fists harder, nails digging into his palms. "Fuck, you own me, Sir, Daddy, please!" He wasn't going to get release, but the plea was like torn from his throat. "Only you, Daddy. Ah!"

[cxncordia]

The boy's broken plea—only you, Daddy—was the final key turning in the lock. It wasn't just a statement of fact; it was a vow, a branding, a complete and utter annihilation of any past or future self. Addison felt it surge through him, a white-hot current of absolute power that eclipsed everything else. The last vestiges of the meticulous teacher, the patient guide, burned away, leaving only the primal, possessive beast at the core.

He let out a low growl, a sound that started deep in his chest and resonated through them both. The slow, grinding rhythm shattered. His control, which had been a razor's edge of deliberate restraint, snapped. What followed was not fucking; it was a claiming. A brutal, relentless piston of his hips, each thrust a hammer blow designed to drive the lesson home, to physically pound the words *only you* into Ethan's very bones.

The bedframe began to protest, a rhythmic creaking that was immediately drowned out by the slap of skin on skin, the wet, obscene sounds of a body being taken without reservation. Addison was no longer looking at Ethan's face; his eyes were closed, his head thrown back, lost in the sensations of the tight, clenching heat that was trying so desperately to milk him. This was the pinnacle, the apex of the night's work. The belt, the kneeling, the tasting, the teasing—it had all been a prelude to this raw, uninhibited possession.

He could feel it building, an unstoppable tide gathering at the base of his spine. The pleasure coiled, tight and hot, a serpent ready to strike. His balls drew up tight, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their punishing precision and gaining a desperate, animalistic urgency. He was on the precipice, a breath away from spilling himself into the boy, from marking him from the inside out with the ultimate proof of ownership. One more thrust, maybe two, and it would be over.

And with a herculean force of will, he stopped.

He froze, buried to the hilt, every muscle in his body locked in a war against its own impending release. He held his breath, counting the frantic thrums of his own heart against his ribs. The sensation was exquisite agony, the denial of pleasure so sharp it was its own form of pain. He could feel Ethan's body trembling beneath him, the boy's confusion a palpable wave in the air.

Slowly, deliberately, Addison pulled out. The loss was sudden, leaving Ethan gaping and empty. He didn't look at the boy, not yet. He rose from the bed, his body a coiled spring of unspent energy, his cock still rigid, flushed a deep, angry red and glistening with proof of what he'd just done. He stood for a moment, just breathing, reclaiming the absolute control that had nearly been lost to the surge of climax.

Then he turned, his expression once again that of a calm, calculating master. The beast was caged. He looked down at Ethan, sprawled and wrecked on the bed, a beautiful, ruinous mess.

"Over," he commanded, his voice raspy but steady. "Get on your hands and knees. Face the headboard."

He watched as Ethan, with limbs that shook and fumbled, struggled to obey. It was a laborious process, a pathetic, beautiful display of obedience born from exhaustion and utter submission. Once the boy was in position, ass raised high, back arched in a perfect, supplicating curve, Addison moved.

He climbed back onto the bed, kneeling behind him. He didn't enter him immediately. He ran a proprietary hand over the curve of Ethan's ass, his thumb brushing the swollen, reddened rim. He could feel the tremor that ran through the boy's body at the simple touch. He was so responsive, so perfectly tuned to him.

"You thought that was it?" Addison murmured, his tone a silken threat. "You thought a little begging and I'd spill inside you like a teenager? No, puppy. Your reward is not a quick, messy end. Your reward is the privilege of being my canvas. Of feeling my pleasure build again, and again, for as long as I desire."

He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging against the loosened, glistening entrance. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he was back inside, buried to the hilt. The new angle was deeper, more possessive. He gripped Ethan's hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, holding him in place.

"This is how I will take you," he stated, his voice hard and clear. "This is how I will use you. Not for your pleasure, but for mine. Your only purpose now is to be a warm, tight hole for my cock. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He began to move, setting a brutal, punishing pace. The slap of his thighs against Ethan's ass was the only sound in the room, apart from Ethan's ragged, choked breaths. He was driving into the boy, chasing that peak again, the peak he had so deliberately denied himself. He could feel the tension coiling in his gut, the heat gathering at the base of his spine, faster this time, harder.

He reached around, wrapping a hand around Ethan's throat, not to choke, but to hold. To feel the frantic pulse of the boy's lifeblood against his palm. "Mine," he growled, the word a harsh, guttural sound. "All of you."

The coil in his gut tightened, a spring about to snap. The pleasure was a roaring in his ears, a wave that was about to crash over him. He could feel the boy's body clenching around him, the involuntary spasms of a system overwhelmed with sensation. He was so close. So impossibly close.

[helloxdesire]

The pace picked up. Addison fucked him faster and harder, like he was trying to shatter both Ethan and the bed. The sub unclenched vis hands only to clench them around the sheets, like he had to hold on to the bed. Addison's pace was brutal and ruthless, and Ethan could feel the bed creak under them. This was so new to him, but he felt sure that Addison was close. Then, unexpectedly, the man came to a halt, his cock burried deep within Ethan. Did he think Ethan was too close? He was really hard, but not at risk for disobeying unless Daddy touched his cock.

Finally Addison vegan to pull out, and Ethan readied himself for the next thrust. It didn't come. Instead the boy whimpered as Addison pulled out, leaving him empty and confused. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, watching as Addison stood up. To stop himself from complaining he bit into his lip, trembling with need. He wondered if this was it, if Addison didn't plan to release inside him. He almost gave in to the temptation to ask, starting to let go of his lip when Addison finally spoke.

Moving felt impossible, but Ethan forced his muscles to cooperate. He whimpered and struggled to turn over and get on his hands and knees. It was an embarrassingly slow process, but he managed. Then Addison kept talking, telling him they would keep going. Ethan gave a weak nod. He wanted to be Addison's canvas, to take anything the man wanted to give him, he was just so exhausted. He wasn't sure just how long Addison meant to keep going, but he had a feeling he'd be completely spent.

Finally Addison thrust into him again, tearing a groan from Ethan. The new angle went deeper, hitting his spot with a new precision. "Daddy!" he gasped, nodding to show his understanding. This time Addison jumped straight into a fast, punishing pace, and Ethan was reduced to a mess of groans and grunts in no time. Addison's hand found his throat, making Ethan feel more vulnerable, only adding to his arousal.

"Yours," he managed to gasp in agreement. He wanted to be Addison's, to belong to the older man and get to feel this owned all the time.

[helloxdesire]

Addison's lips touched Ethan's, almost as if he could see how much Ethan wanted it. It wasn't deep and claiming, but just as poweful as anything else Addison had done, just by virtue of being so soft and gentle just when Ethan was so desperate and vulnerable. He thought in the moment that this was his reward. Addison's lips were perfect, and when he pulled away he even called Ethan Puppy again, and Ethan had a sneaking feeling maybe that name was there to stay. He hoped so, he wanted to be Addison's puppy. He tried his best to ready himself for the next lesson, sure it would be coming. "Thank you, Daddy," he said, embarrassingly breathless after such a brief, gentle kiss.

He listened for Addison's step, letting himself take a quick glance to confirm that he was in fact back by the water. Waiting was less infuriating now though, he knew Sir would return to him, and he trusted that whatever Addison had in mind for him would be worth the wait. Besides, this position was easier to hold, his arms weren't screaming at him. His muscles still trembled, still ached, but not like they had earlier. The wait seemed shorter too, soon Daddy was back, sitting down on the bed. The belt was removed, but Ethan held his arms in place until he was told to move.

He hurried to scramble from his current position onto his back on the bed. Nothing about this position was hard to maintain, he was just on his back, arms at his sides. Addison even adjusted his position, making sure he was comfortable. Would the next lesson be hard enough that Daddy didn't think Ethan could keep a more challenging position? With how all his muscles were aching that might be a good call actually. Ethan didn't want to fail Addison now. Being able to just let his muscles relax for a bit was a huge relief, and Ethan just laid back on the comfortable bed.

As Addison spoke it became clear that the kiss wasn't his reward. Ethan's eyes widened, excited to hear what Addison had decided. His face fell for a moment when the Dom made it clear he wouldn't be coming. He couldn't help it, the disappointment crashed over him. He was so hard already and knowing for sure that he wouldn’t get release was crushing. His disappointment was brief though, drowned out by the fact that Addison thought he'd done good. He'd pleased Addison and the lawyer was happy with him.

Addison's fingers wrapped around his base and Ethan gasped. Hard and needy he knew he couldn't last long if Addison started stroking him. Then came the instructions to stay still and Ethan nodded, even though the intensity of just having his member touched made him question how successful he would be. He would try, at least. It couldn't be much harder than the kneeling, could it? He nodded again, confirming that he wanted this very much.

Addison pushed into him and Ethan heard himself gasp. It was a quiet little sound, thankfully just quiet enough that Addison didn't seem upset, because he just kept pushing in. Ethan's hole stretched around Addison's cock, and it ached just right as his hole was forced to make room. It felt so good, even better than Ethan had hoped. The lawyer fucked him steadily, making sure he felt every thrust to its fullest. He felt himself cry again, face growing wet at the intensity of it. Staying still was more of a challenge than he'd thought. He ached to reach for Addison, to put his hands on the older man, but he didn't disobey. Instead he clenched his hands into fists, staying hyper aware of the way his breath hitched, trying to keep it quiet, despite having no control over it. He bit into his lip, controlling what sounds he could. He wanted to moan and beg for more, but he held back, trusting Addison to take care of him. A needy whine escaped him as Addison hit his prostate at just the right angle, but he resisted the urge to apologize, just biting harder into his lip, determined to do better as Addison ruined him with all this pleasure. He'd dreamed of this, of being taken and fucked, but every fantasy faded in comparison to Addison fucking his virginity out of him. It felt so good it bordered on torture, and Ethan never wanted it to end.

[cxncordia]

Addison’s rhythm faltered for the barest fraction of a second. The whine, the involuntary clench around him, the sheer, unvarnished need radiating off the boy—it was intoxicating. But it was the specific quality of that need that struck him. It wasn't the practiced need of an experienced submissive, but the raw, untamed desperation of something entirely new. A dark, predatory smile touched Addison's lips. He saw it now. He had been so focused on the breaking, on the teaching, that he had missed the most crucial detail. This wasn't just a boy surrendering; this was a virgin being unmade.

He slowed his thrusts, becoming deliberate, almost cruel in their precision. He pulled out nearly all the way before sliding back in, forcing Ethan to feel every agonizing inch. He leaned down, his body blanketing the smaller one, his lips brushing against the shell of Ethan's ear.

"Did I forget to ask?" he murmured, his shudder trailing from a silken, venomous whisper. "Did I neglect to find out if this tight little hole has ever been taken before?" He chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through Ethan's chest. "All this talk of what you want, what you thought you wanted... and you're just a naive little pup who didn't even know what a real fucking felt like."

He pushed in hard, seating himself to the hilt, and held himself there, enjoying the choked-off gasp it earned him. "Look at you," he continued, his voice laced with a condescending warmth that was far more cutting than any cold tone. "Crying because it feels so good you can't stand it. You were a virgin, weren't you, puppy? Don't lie to Daddy."

He pulled back just enough to see Ethan's face, to watch the blush of shame and the undeniable flicker of truth in his eyes. It was perfect. This wasn't just about domination anymore; it was about elevation. He wasn't just taking the boy's virginity; he was bestowing it. He was the singular, defining experience.

"Oh, that's my good boy," Addison cooed when he saw the confirmation in Ethan's panicked gaze. "Don't you see what a gift this is? All those boys you might have let fumble with you, all those clumsy, meaningless encounters... I saved you from them. I'm the one who gets to teach you what your body is for. I'm the one who gets to map out this territory first."

He began to move again, a slow, grinding rhythm designed to hit that spot inside Ethan that made him see stars, to make the pleasure almost unbearable. "You should be thanking me," he breathed, his words a continuous, degrading stream against Ethan's skin. "Thanking me for being the one to break you in properly. For showing you that this," he punctuated the word with a sharp, deep thrust, "is what you were made for. To be fucked. To be used. To be mine."

The pride he felt was immense. He wasn't just a dominant; he was a creator. He had taken this unformed, wanting thing and was giving it shape, purpose. He was carving his name into Ethan's very core, ensuring no one else would ever compare. Every other experience would be a pale imitation, an echo of the perfection he was crafting right now.

"Tell me, puppy," he commanded, his voice regaining its firm, authoritative edge as he felt his own climax approaching. "Tell me who gets to have you like this. Tell me who owns your pussy for it's first real fuck."

[helloxdesire]

Something changed. Addison slowed his thrusts, and Ethan first thought it was just for the sake of tormenting him, but something in Addison's eyes made it clear that there was something else. He froze as Addison spoke, his body going rigid under the other man. He hadn't lied. He'd never told Addison he'd had sex before, but he certainly hadn't told him he was a virgin either. He had deliberately let Addison assume he'd been fucked before, certain that if Addison didn't think Ethan could handle him he definitely wouldn't be willing to give him a chance if he knew. He hadn't thought Addison would be able to tell, but of course he could.

He forced himself to nod when Addison told him not to lie. He felt pathetic, crying from being fucked. How could he possibly have thought Addison wouldn't be able to tell. The condescending tone added to his shame, made it clear there was never a chance of fooling Addison. "Sorry," he gasped. He wasn't allowed to talk, but this felt big enough that he had to say he was sorry, even if Addison didn't like that word.

Then Addison used that phrase again. Good boy. He wasn't upset. The next sorry died on Ethan's lips as Addison told him this was a gift. He thought back to the handful of guys he'd turned down, grateful he hadn't let either of them fuck him, hadn't let them take this moment away from Addison and himself. He nodded again, trying to show his understanding. Addison was right, no one else could have done him like this, broken him down like that before even touching his hole, putting his tongue to it to make sure he was a trembling mess before the fucking even started, and then claim his hole like he owned it. As if to prove his point Addison started moving again, each thrust hitting his prostate, driving him mad with need. He felt like he was going to explode if Daddy didn't let him come. Then he remembered that he wouldn’t be coming and he whimpered weakly just as Addison started telling him he should be thanking him.

"Thank you," he managed to gasp while Addison kept fucking him. "Th- ah, thank you D- addy." He was falling apart, dissolving into too much pleasure. Nothing would compare to this, he was certain of it, as certain as he was that he needed to feel this way again. He heard the edge return to Addison's voice, replacing the warm, condecending tone that made Ethan feel strangely small. Addison was giving him orders now, and Ethan knew, even coming apart as he was, that he needed to obey.

"You, Sir," he gasped. "You own it- ah!" He gasped clenching his fists harder, nails digging into his palms. "Fuck, you own me, Sir, Daddy, please!" He wasn't going to get release, but the plea was like torn from his throat. "Only you, Daddy. Ah!"

[helloxdesire]

Ethan was falling apart on Addison's tongue, hos hole opening to let it in, his whole body trembling and shaking with pleasure. He moaned helplessly as Addison kept tasting him. Ethan had never experienced addiction, but in the moment he wondered absently if he could get addicted to Addison's tongue. The sensation was so overwhelmingly good the younger sub was sure he'd do anything for more of this, even as his cock was so hard it bordered on painful.

Then Addison pulled back, taking away the sensation Ethan was enjoying so much. He couldn't help the whimper he made but bit into his lip to stop himself from begging for more. It was cruel, showing him that pleasure and then taking it away, but then Addison called him a very good boy and Ethan felt at ease. The desperate want was still there, roaring in him, but the satisfaction of having earned his Daddy’s praise mixed with it, making Ethan crave more of that just as much as he wanted more of Addison's tongue.

When Addison didn't say anything else right away Ethan listened. He tracked the sound of steps around the bed, his heartbeat picking up as he heard the man stop in front of him. A finger touched his chin, tilting his head up, and Ethan looked up at Addison. At first glance the man looked the same. Like the past eternity he'd spent breaking Ethan down had no effect on him. As Ethan looked though, there were small, subtle changes. There was something about the man's eyes, a fondness that hadn't been there before. At least Ethan thought it was fondness. Ethan thought his voice was different too, softer, but was he imagining things, or was there a hint of desire there too? He knew he wasn't imagining the bulge, proving that seeing Ethan like this, making Ethan like this, excited the lawyer.

The most important thing was ehat Addison said though, describing himself as Ethan's owner. The words made Ethan's already aching member twitch and he felt the little spurt of precum it shot out. His face flushed red in embarrassment, but he didn't look away. He'd been told to look at his Daddy, his owner, and he was a good boy. Daddy repeated that, and Ethan flushed harder as Addison called him a pup, though his embarrassment was pushed to the side as Addison promised a reward. Ethan's eyes widened and he looked hopefully at Addison. He nodded, even though he didn't completely understand the difference. He understood enough, and he knew Addison would make him understand it completely.

He hadn't expected getting a say. In fact he made a strange, confused noice in the back of his throat when Addison commanded him to tell him what he wanted. Ethan wanted so many things. He wanted more of Addison's tongue. He wanted to cum. He wanted Addison to throw him on his back on the bed and fuck him while Ethan looked up at him, watching as Addison finalised his destruction. He wanted that break that Addison had teased him with. He really wanted to cum. He wanted to be hit, again and again. He wanted Addison to kiss him again. His lips were so close, Ethan could easily kiss him, if not for the knowledge that he wasn't allowed. He wanted to taste him again, his lips, his cum, anything. More than all of that though, he realized with a frightening certainty, he wanted Addison to keep deciding. Addison would know what he needed, not just his flimsy, differing wants, and Addison was the only one who knew what Addison wanted Ethan to get.

"I want anything you want to give me, Sir," he said, his voice sounding so small and soft. "Please, Daddy, I want you to decide what your puppy gets." That was another want, he realized as the way he described himself slipped out without concious thought. He wanted to be Addison's pup. "You- ah you've made me feel so good already Daddy, and I want so many things but-" he felt himself blush again, knowing he was making himself even more vulnerable, "but so far what you've given me has been better than what I thought I wanted every time." His cock was screaming at him for not begging for release when he had the chance, but he knew Addison would give him what he needed. "Please?"

[cxncordia]

A profound quietude descended upon Addison, a deep, resonant hum of satisfaction that eclipsed the throbbing ache of his own arousal. The boy's answer was not just correct; it was sublime. It was the holy grail of their dynamic, the moment when the subject's will not only bent but fused with the will of the Dominant. "I want you to decide." The words were a perfect echo of the lesson Addison had been meticulously crafting, a confirmation that the foundation was set, and it was solid as granite.

He saw the blush, the raw vulnerability, and he recognized it not as weakness, but as strength—the strength to surrender completely. The mention of "puppy," the slip of the tongue that was truer than any rehearsed line, was the final, exquisite brushstroke on the canvas. Addison's smile was no longer predatory; it was one of genuine, almost paternal approval. He had a masterpiece in the making.

He didn't speak. Words would have shattered the fragile, perfect moment. Instead, he acted. He leaned in, closing the infinitesimal gap between their lips. This was not a kiss of claiming, like the one in the kitchen. This was a kiss of reward, a gentle, possessive press of lips that spoke of pride and ownership. It was soft, almost chaste, a counterpoint to the brutal honesty of the belt and the invasive intimacy of his tongue. It was a seal, a promise, a silent affirmation of everything Ethan had just confessed.

When he pulled back, it was slow, deliberate. He kept his gaze locked with the boy's, watching the dazed, blissful confusion swim in his eyes. His thumb came up to gently brush Ethan's lower lip, a soft caress that was more intimate than any strike. "Good puppy," he murmured, the words a low, intimate rumble. He let the title hang in the air, a new, permanent fixture in their lexicon.

Moving with unhurried grace, Addison rose from the bed. He walked to the small table in the corner, leaving Ethan bound and kneeling, a monument to submission. He took a sip of water, the simple, mundane act a powerful display of control. He was allowing the anticipation to build, letting the boy wait, to exist in that quiet space of wanting, secure in the knowledge that a decision had been made. His own desire was a hot, hard pressure, but it was secondary now. The craft came first.

He returned to the bed, not standing before Ethan, but sitting on the edge beside him. He didn't immediately touch him. He simply looked, letting his gaze sweep over the red stripes, the trembling muscles, the bound wrists. He was an artist admiring his work. Then, with a slow, careful movement, he reached out and unbuckled the belt from Ethan's wrists. The leather was warm and damp from the boy's sweat.

"Turn over, puppy," he commanded, his voice soft but firm. "Lie on your back. Hands at your sides." He watched Ethan move, the actions stiff and sore, but obedient. He positioned the boy, adjusting his limbs, making him comfortable on the mattress. He looked so young like this, so exposed. The fierce, proud pup on his knees was gone, replaced by a beautiful, vulnerable thing laid out for him.

Addison straddled Ethan's chest, not putting his full weight on him, but hovering, caging him in. His knees bracketed Ethan's ribs, a clear statement of dominance without the threat of pain. He looked down into the upturned face, at the lips swollen from his kiss, at the eyes wide with anticipation. His own cock was right there, straining against the fabric of his trousers, a visible promise of the reward to come, but still out of reach.

"You learned a valuable lesson tonight, pup," Addison said, his voice a low murmur. "You learned that pleasure is not something you take. It is something you are given. And the most profound pleasure comes from surrendering your will to mine. You asked me to decide for you, and I have decided."

He reached down, his fingers tracing the line of Ethan's jaw, then moving down to his collarbones, then lower, tracing the red marks the belt had left on his chest and stomach. He was mapping his ownership, charting the territory he had claimed.

"I am going to reward you," he continued, his eyes never leaving Ethan's. "Because you were so good. Because you pleased me immensely. But you will not come. Not tonight. Your pleasure tonight is in the service, in the feeling, in the knowledge that you are mine. Release is a privilege, and you have not yet earned it."

He saw the flicker of disappointment in Ethan's eyes, a brief, sharp spark of want, but it was quickly extinguished by a deeper, more powerful need to obey. The boy was learning. He was learning that true satisfaction came not from the gratification of the flesh, but from the gratification of the soul.

He reached out, his fingers closing around the base of Ethan's cock. He heard the boy's sharp intake of breath, felt the way his body tensed in anticipation. "Be still, pup," he commanded, his voice soft but firm. "Do not move. Do not make a sound."

Addison adjusted between the boy's legs, his cock aligned with Ethan's entrance. "You want this, don't you?" he asked, a rhetorical question that didn't require an answer. He could feel the boy's anticipation, the way his body was a taut string, ready to snap. He could see the desperate hope in his eyes, the silent plea for the release he so desperately craved.

"I am going to take you now," he whispered, his words a final, possessive promise. "I am going to claim you, mark you, make you mine. And you are going to lie there and take it. You are going to feel every inch of me, every thrust, every pulse of my cock inside you. And you will not come. You will not move. You will not make a sound. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait for a response. He pushed forward, the head of his cock breaching the tight ring of muscle, a slow, deliberate invasion. He watched Ethan's face, the way his eyes fluttered closed, the way a silent gasp was torn from his lips. He felt the boy's body yield to him, a surrender that was both physical and emotional.

He began to move, a slow, rhythmic rocking of his hips, each thrust a claim, a possession. He was not just fucking the boy; he was claiming him, marking him from the inside out. He was writing his name on the boy's soul, a permanent, indelible mark of ownership.

He watched the tears stream down Ethan's face, not of pain, but of overwhelming sensation, of a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. He watched the boy's hands clench into fists at his sides, the knuckles white with the effort of not moving, of not reaching for him. He watched the way Ethan's chest heaved, the way his breath hitched, the way he fought for control.

"So beautiful," he murmured, leaning in close. "So beautiful when you struggle. So beautiful when you surrender." He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more demanding. He was chasing his own release now, the tight, hot heat of Ethan's body a perfect, slick sheath for his cock.

[helloxdesire]

Addison's lips touched Ethan's, almost as if he could see how much Ethan wanted it. It wasn't deep and claiming, but just as poweful as anything else Addison had done, just by virtue of being so soft and gentle just when Ethan was so desperate and vulnerable. He thought in the moment that this was his reward. Addison's lips were perfect, and when he pulled away he even called Ethan Puppy again, and Ethan had a sneaking feeling maybe that name was there to stay. He hoped so, he wanted to be Addison's puppy. He tried his best to ready himself for the next lesson, sure it would be coming. "Thank you, Daddy," he said, embarrassingly breathless after such a brief, gentle kiss.

He listened for Addison's step, letting himself take a quick glance to confirm that he was in fact back by the water. Waiting was less infuriating now though, he knew Sir would return to him, and he trusted that whatever Addison had in mind for him would be worth the wait. Besides, this position was easier to hold, his arms weren't screaming at him. His muscles still trembled, still ached, but not like they had earlier. The wait seemed shorter too, soon Daddy was back, sitting down on the bed. The belt was removed, but Ethan held his arms in place until he was told to move.

He hurried to scramble from his current position onto his back on the bed. Nothing about this position was hard to maintain, he was just on his back, arms at his sides. Addison even adjusted his position, making sure he was comfortable. Would the next lesson be hard enough that Daddy didn't think Ethan could keep a more challenging position? With how all his muscles were aching that might be a good call actually. Ethan didn't want to fail Addison now. Being able to just let his muscles relax for a bit was a huge relief, and Ethan just laid back on the comfortable bed.

As Addison spoke it became clear that the kiss wasn't his reward. Ethan's eyes widened, excited to hear what Addison had decided. His face fell for a moment when the Dom made it clear he wouldn't be coming. He couldn't help it, the disappointment crashed over him. He was so hard already and knowing for sure that he wouldn’t get release was crushing. His disappointment was brief though, drowned out by the fact that Addison thought he'd done good. He'd pleased Addison and the lawyer was happy with him.

Addison's fingers wrapped around his base and Ethan gasped. Hard and needy he knew he couldn't last long if Addison started stroking him. Then came the instructions to stay still and Ethan nodded, even though the intensity of just having his member touched made him question how successful he would be. He would try, at least. It couldn't be much harder than the kneeling, could it? He nodded again, confirming that he wanted this very much.

Addison pushed into him and Ethan heard himself gasp. It was a quiet little sound, thankfully just quiet enough that Addison didn't seem upset, because he just kept pushing in. Ethan's hole stretched around Addison's cock, and it ached just right as his hole was forced to make room. It felt so good, even better than Ethan had hoped. The lawyer fucked him steadily, making sure he felt every thrust to its fullest. He felt himself cry again, face growing wet at the intensity of it. Staying still was more of a challenge than he'd thought. He ached to reach for Addison, to put his hands on the older man, but he didn't disobey. Instead he clenched his hands into fists, staying hyper aware of the way his breath hitched, trying to keep it quiet, despite having no control over it. He bit into his lip, controlling what sounds he could. He wanted to moan and beg for more, but he held back, trusting Addison to take care of him. A needy whine escaped him as Addison hit his prostate at just the right angle, but he resisted the urge to apologize, just biting harder into his lip, determined to do better as Addison ruined him with all this pleasure. He'd dreamed of this, of being taken and fucked, but every fantasy faded in comparison to Addison fucking his virginity out of him. It felt so good it bordered on torture, and Ethan never wanted it to end.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan felt somehow both like he was floating, and like he was more present than he'd ever been. He was getting the feeling that contradicting sensations were a part of being with Addison. His body felt like a series of aches, from his still aching arms to the building stinging in his ass and the very slight soreness in his throat. Ethan didn't mind these aches in the slightest, and he hoped they'd linger for days.

The next hit hit his thigh, sending a new, sharper jolt of pain through him. He gasped, but to even his own surprise he only needed that one, shaky gasp of air before he managed to count. "Five, thank you, Sir." He thought he'd have several seconds to gather himself, seeing as Addison seemed to like letting the pain linger, but then the belt connected again, on his other thigh. Ethan almost got the number wrong then, "sev- no, six, Sir. Thank you." The pain was intense, radiating from his thighs, and still Ethan didn't shy away. The thought of asking Addison to stop didn't even cross his mind. He wanted this. He wanted the whole experience.

Addison's measured words of praise only strengthened Ethan's resolve. He was doing well, and he would keep doing well until Addison was done. Again the hits came too fast for Ethan to count them individually. "Seven, thank you sir. Eight, thank you, Sir." His arms vere shaking just slightly. Enough to annoy, enough to give him another thing to distract him from counting for Addison, but not enough to keep him from holding his position. He'd just have to focus harder on getting the count right. Addison couldn't mean to go on too much longer, could he? Maybe to ten? Or fifteen? Ethan tried to let the thought go. It would be over when it was over, his only job was to count.

"Ah!" Pain exploded from the top of his thighs as Ethan's back arched from the shock of it. This place hurt more than the other hits. Before he could count Ethan had to get his arms under control, force them to keep holding his weight. "Nine," he gasped, "thank you, Sir." He expected another hit to land in that sensitive spot where his ass met his thighs. He held his breath as he waited for the next hit, already repeating the number ten in his mind, trying to ensure he wouldn’t mess it up.

I think it’s time. Ethan froze for a moment, not sure at first what it was time for. Then Addison grabbed his hands and he felt the belt tighten around his wrists, restraining him. There would be no more strikes with the belt then. Ethan trembled in anticipation as Daddy touched his back, gently stroking his spine and called him a good boy again. Then Addison's fingers reached his hole, teasing it, and Ethan let out a shaky exhale.

When he first entered the room he'd been sure Addison would fuck him, but sometime during the kneeling he'd started to suspect he might not. Now, with the fingers teasing his rim he dared hope that Addison might take him in that way.

Soon. Ethan bit into his lip to hold back his whimper. Would soon be tonight, or was Addison just planning to make him aware of how much he wanted to be fucked only to deny him? He did whine when Addison stepped away, an involuntary, needy noise. But then the man's hands were back on his ass, making Ethan hopeful again. Addison's fingers didn't return to his rim, instead a new, wet sensation dragged against it. Ethan moaned, his eyes rolling back as Addison's tongue pressed into his hole, claiming it. This was pleasure like Ethan had never felt before, and the inexperienced sub was rock hard and leaking precum in seconds. "Daddy!" he gasped, "Ah, thank you, Sir!" It felt so good, Ethan's knees trembling from the pleasure of it. After all the ways he'd been hurting for Addison this was a precious gift.

[cxncordia]

The gasp of "Daddy!" was everything. It was a crack in the perfect facade of obedience, a raw, unvarnished cry of need that bypassed the trained "Sir" and went straight to the core of their dynamic. Addison felt it in his own gut, a deep, primal satisfaction that was more potent than the clean crack of the belt. This was a different kind of breaking, a more profound one. He wasn't just breaking down the boy's body; he was breaking down his walls, his inhibitions, his carefully constructed self-image, to reveal the trembling, wanting thing beneath.

He didn't stop. He pressed deeper, the flat of his tongue working against the tight furl of muscle, tasting him, claiming him. The moan that vibrated against his lips was a reward in itself, proof of the boy's complete surrender. This was a lesson in a different kind of pleasure, a pleasure that wasn't about release, but about possession. It was about showing Ethan that every part of him belonged to Addison, to be used, to be tasted, to be enjoyed at his leisure.

He could feel the tremor in Ethan's legs, the way the boy's body was trying to process this new, overwhelming sensation. He could feel the desperation in the way Ethan pressed back against him, a silent plea for more. Addison smiled against the boy's skin, a slow, predatory smile. He had him exactly where he wanted him: pliant, desperate, and completely at his mercy.

He pulled back, leaving Ethan gasping and trembling, a beautiful, wanton sight. He watched the boy's body react to the sudden absence, the way his hole clenched, as if trying to draw him back in. "Good boy," Addison rumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Very good boy."

He stood up, his own cock heavy and aching, the proof of the boy's effect on him. He took a moment to just look, to admire the scene he had created: the boy bound and trembling, the red stripes on his skin a vivid reminder of the lesson, the glistening evidence of his possession a promise of more to come.

He walked around to the front of the bed, positioning himself in front of Ethan. He reached out, tilting the boy's head up, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice soft but firm. "I want you to see who is doing this to you. I want you to see the man who owns you."

He waited, his hazel eyes locked on Ethan's, a silent battle of wills. He could see the confusion, the desire, the fear, and the trust all warring in the boy's expression. He could see the way Ethan's pupils were blown, the way his lips were parted, the way he was practically vibrating with need.

"You have been a very good pup," Addison said, his tone dropping to a low, soothing murmur. "You have endured your lesson well. And now, you will be rewarded. But the reward is not for you to take. It is for me to give. Do you understand?"

He waited for the nod, for the silent acknowledgment of the fundamental truth of their dynamic. He was in control. He was the giver of pleasure, the master of pain, the architect of this experience. And Ethan was his creation, his masterpiece, his perfect, submissive pup. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above Ethan's, a breath away from a kiss, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. He could feel the boy's ragged breath on his own lips, could practically taste the desperation in the air. He could see the way Ethan's body was straining towards him, a silent plea for the contact he so desperately craved. He could feel the boy's gaze on him, a physical weight, a silent supplication.

"You may speak, pup," Addison whispered, the words a permission slip, a key unlocking the boy's cage. "Tell me what you want."

He watched the boy's face, a mask of pure, unadulterated need. He watched the way Ethan's lips formed the words, the way the sound was torn from his throat, a raw, desperate plea. He listened to the words, a symphony of submission, and in them he heard the boy's complete and utter surrender. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile. He had him. He had him completely.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan was falling apart on Addison's tongue, hos hole opening to let it in, his whole body trembling and shaking with pleasure. He moaned helplessly as Addison kept tasting him. Ethan had never experienced addiction, but in the moment he wondered absently if he could get addicted to Addison's tongue. The sensation was so overwhelmingly good the younger sub was sure he'd do anything for more of this, even as his cock was so hard it bordered on painful.

Then Addison pulled back, taking away the sensation Ethan was enjoying so much. He couldn't help the whimper he made but bit into his lip to stop himself from begging for more. It was cruel, showing him that pleasure and then taking it away, but then Addison called him a very good boy and Ethan felt at ease. The desperate want was still there, roaring in him, but the satisfaction of having earned his Daddy’s praise mixed with it, making Ethan crave more of that just as much as he wanted more of Addison's tongue.

When Addison didn't say anything else right away Ethan listened. He tracked the sound of steps around the bed, his heartbeat picking up as he heard the man stop in front of him. A finger touched his chin, tilting his head up, and Ethan looked up at Addison. At first glance the man looked the same. Like the past eternity he'd spent breaking Ethan down had no effect on him. As Ethan looked though, there were small, subtle changes. There was something about the man's eyes, a fondness that hadn't been there before. At least Ethan thought it was fondness. Ethan thought his voice was different too, softer, but was he imagining things, or was there a hint of desire there too? He knew he wasn't imagining the bulge, proving that seeing Ethan like this, making Ethan like this, excited the lawyer.

The most important thing was ehat Addison said though, describing himself as Ethan's owner. The words made Ethan's already aching member twitch and he felt the little spurt of precum it shot out. His face flushed red in embarrassment, but he didn't look away. He'd been told to look at his Daddy, his owner, and he was a good boy. Daddy repeated that, and Ethan flushed harder as Addison called him a pup, though his embarrassment was pushed to the side as Addison promised a reward. Ethan's eyes widened and he looked hopefully at Addison. He nodded, even though he didn't completely understand the difference. He understood enough, and he knew Addison would make him understand it completely.

He hadn't expected getting a say. In fact he made a strange, confused noice in the back of his throat when Addison commanded him to tell him what he wanted. Ethan wanted so many things. He wanted more of Addison's tongue. He wanted to cum. He wanted Addison to throw him on his back on the bed and fuck him while Ethan looked up at him, watching as Addison finalised his destruction. He wanted that break that Addison had teased him with. He really wanted to cum. He wanted to be hit, again and again. He wanted Addison to kiss him again. His lips were so close, Ethan could easily kiss him, if not for the knowledge that he wasn't allowed. He wanted to taste him again, his lips, his cum, anything. More than all of that though, he realized with a frightening certainty, he wanted Addison to keep deciding. Addison would know what he needed, not just his flimsy, differing wants, and Addison was the only one who knew what Addison wanted Ethan to get.

"I want anything you want to give me, Sir," he said, his voice sounding so small and soft. "Please, Daddy, I want you to decide what your puppy gets." That was another want, he realized as the way he described himself slipped out without concious thought. He wanted to be Addison's pup. "You- ah you've made me feel so good already Daddy, and I want so many things but-" he felt himself blush again, knowing he was making himself even more vulnerable, "but so far what you've given me has been better than what I thought I wanted every time." His cock was screaming at him for not begging for release when he had the chance, but he knew Addison would give him what he needed. "Please?"

[1liv]

HERO FIENNES TIFFIN as SHERLOCK HOLMES in YOUNG SHERLOCK 1.01

[seaside-storm]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN (2025-) 2.02 "Shoot the Moon"

[buckygrayson]

matt murdock/daredevil daredevil: born again season two - episode two | “the scales and the sword”

[helloxdesire]

Milo looked at the belt, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He liked the belt. It made him bruise and tended to hurt for days when Daddy used it on him. He wanted that, the bruises that the belt would leave on his skin. Daddy’s words didn't sound like he was planning to cover Milo's body in a mess of bruises just yet though.

Defeated the boy shook his head. "No, Daddy." He knew a hickey wouldn't erase anything. There was so much clean skin, but a hickey would be a start, one patch of his skin clearly claimed by Daddy while the man fucked him. He knew he'd end up bruised and marked all over, he just wanted something to start with before they got to that point.

Allen joined him on the bed. He was strong and imposing and Milo looked up at him, as eager and desperate as he was nervous. Allen was no joke when he was in this mood, dangerous and possessive. The clear skin was someone else's mark on Milo in a way, it represented someone else's claim on his skin, and that had to infuriate Allen. Tonight would surely hurt, a lot, and that would have terrified Milo if it wasn't exactly what he wanted. Allen was a demanding lover, and Milo craved exactly that.

"Please," he said again when he was told to beg. The promise that Daddy would mark him was a relief. He had just started to worry that Allen might want to deny Milo the marks he craved more than he wanted to mark him. "I know it won't erase it, Daddy, that a hickey isn't enough. There’s so much skin Daddy, and I need you to mark it all, to claim every inch of it," he paused, looked at Daddy. "I just- a hickey would be a start. Not enough, but proof that my skin is yours again, that they don't get to decide anymore. I want more though, need more." He whimpered, shame filling him as he spoke. "Please, Allen, ruin me, mark me, I want anyone who sees me to know that I belong to you. Please."

[cxncordia]

A low, vibrating growl started deep in Allen's chest, a sound of primal satisfaction. The boy's words were a litany of perfect submission, each please a hammer stroke forging the chains of their dynamic tighter. Allen saw the shame in Milo's eyes, the humiliation at having to articulate such a deep, desperate need, and it was the most beautiful confession he had ever heard. The boy understood. He understood that this wasn't about a simple hickey; it was about a territorial war, and Allen was the conqueror reclaiming his land.

He dropped the belt onto the bed beside him with a soft thud, a temporary dismissal of a tool. For this, he needed nothing but himself. His own hands, his own teeth, his own body. This was a claiming that required a more intimate, personal violence.

"Good girl," Allen praised, the words laced with an iron undertone. "You finally understand." He didn't wait any longer. The need to leave his mark, to press his claim into that flesh, was a physical ache. He lowered his head, not to Milo's lips, but to the sensitive, unblemished skin of his throat, just above the collarbone. It was a prime piece of real estate, impossible to hide, a public declaration of ownership.

He didn't start with a kiss. He started with the press of his teeth, a sharp, stinging nip that made Milo gasp. Then, he opened his mouth and sucked, hard. He wasn't just creating a hickey; he was drawing the blood to the surface, bruising the capillaries, creating a deep, violent purple blossom of ownership. He put all of his frustration, all of his pent-up desire, all of his possessive rage into that single act. He sucked until he could taste the faint coppery tang of skin, until he knew the mark would be dark, and it would last.

When he finally pulled back, he was breathless. He looked at his work. A perfect, savage bloom of color stood out against the pale skin. It was a start. A beautiful, promising start. He could feel the heat radiating from the fresh bruise.

"One," he grunted, the word a marker of territory. He moved lower, his gaze sweeping over the boy's chest. He saw the flat, brown nipples, pebbled with anticipation. He lowered his head again, this time to the left one. He took it into his mouth, not gently, but with a devouring hunger. He bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but with enough pressure to send a sharp, electrifying jolt of pain through Milo. He worried the sensitive bud between his teeth, then soothed it with a rough swipe of his tongue, only to bite down again. He was creating a symphony of sensation, a confusing, overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain that would leave Milo breathless and begging.

He wanted to cover the boy in marks, to turn him into a canvas of their depravity. He wanted to see the evidence of his possession every time Milo looked in the mirror, every time he felt the chafe of his shirt against a bruise. He wanted to ruin him, not just for tonight, but for the weeks to come, a constant, throbbing reminder of who he belonged to.

He moved from nipple to nipple, giving the other the same brutal treatment. Then, he began to trail bites down the boy's torso. They weren't deep, but they were deliberate, each one a small, stinging claim. He bit at the soft skin of Milo's stomach, at the sensitive flesh of his hips. He was like a wolf marking its territory, leaving a trail of vivid red imprints that would blossom into deep purple bruises over the coming days.

He paused, his gaze falling to the boy's cock, hard and leaking against his stomach. He ignored it. This wasn't about Milo's pleasure. This was about Allen's claim. He moved lower, his breath hot against the boy's inner thighs. He bit down there, too, leaving marks in the most sensitive, hidden places. He wanted Milo to feel them with every step he took, to be reminded of this night every time he moved.

[helloxdesire]

Milo watched the belt drop, his eyes moving straight to Allen's face, wondering what the dismissal of the tool meant for him. He loved being hit with the belt, hard and ruthless until a part of his skin, usually his ass and maybe thighs, were covered in angry welts. God he loved Daddy’s mouth too though, and when teeth sank into his skin Milo let out a sound that was half yelp half moan, pleasure and pain morphing in him. Daddy sucked hungrily at his skin. It was a painful sensation, Daddy forming his own mark on Milo's clear skin. He knew from experience that the mark would be dark purple, a lingering reminder that his skin wasn't his own.

"Thank you," he gasped when Daddy let go of his throat. "Thank you, Sir." Tomorrow, if he left the house, there would be a mark, clearly visible even if he wore a collared shirt. Everyone would be able to see Daddy’s mark on him.

Allen wasn't done. From his neck he moved on to Milo's nipples. Teeth sank into the skin there too, hard enough to make Milo whine from the pain. Then the tongue dragged over the poor little bud before the teeth returned. Daddy took his time making each nipple positively ache, sending regular jolts of pleasure through Milo's body. Milo loved nipple play, loved how Daddy could make him feel so good and hurt so much at once by giving his nipples just the right attention. He knew, also from experience, that wearing a shirt tomorrow, and likely the day after, would drag against his nipples and make them ache anew.

Today though, Daddy moved on from the nipples, though Milo felt pretty sure he’d torture them some more before they were done. He placed bites all the way down Milo's torso, towards his crotch and his aching erection. The actor knew it was futile to hope. There was no way Allen would give his cock attention now. Still, he whimpered when his hardness was only acknowledged with a glance. Then Daddy bit into his thighs and Milo gasped again. Allen was really set on making Milo remember this. If Allen bruised the inside of his thighs enough the next several days would be a torture in their own right. Every step would be a reminder. The thought, combined with the sharp pain Daddy delivered, made his neglected cock twitch. He wanted to beg Allen to touch it, it was already so hard. Instead he gasped, and focused on Daddy’s thorough marking of his sensitive skin, each bite painful and delicious. "Thank you, thank you Allen, gonna feel this for days."

[helloxdesire]

In the time before the second hit landed Ethan felt the sharp stinging pain settle into a deeper ache. He expected the next hit to come quickly, but it didn't. Addison took his time, leaving Ethan to feel the sting while wondering when the belt would connect with his ass again. When it did Ethan yelped, having barely registered the sound of the belt before a new sting erupted on his other cheek. The impact somehow took him more by surprise this time, but he caught his breath, and counted. "Two, thank you, Sir."

Addison took the time to assure him he was going well then, and Ethan considered whether thanking the man for the reassurance would be acceptable. He had been told not to speak though, so instead he gave a small nod. His ass was already throbbing, but he was curious about how much Addison could make him feel. The pain was new and foreign and Ethan wanted more of it, not because it was thrilling and exciting, but because he was amazed by the submission that pain could make him feel, and in no small part because Addison wanted him to have more.

The next two hits came immediately after each other. When the first one landed Ethan was confused to hear the sound of the belt again, and before he had time to process the thought the belt connected with his skin again, making Ethan yelp, more from surprise than the pain, although the pain was more intense now after four hits than it had been.

"Three, sir, thank you," he hurried to count, not sure if Addison would keep going faster now, "four, thank you sir." He sounded out of breath and his ass stung, but god did he want more. Addison wielded the belt in a way that hurt intensely, but never too much. Well, at least not yet, Ethan supposed four hits in was a bit early to say so, but in the relatively short time he'd been with Addison it had become very clear that the man was constantly in control, and Ethan trusted him to inflict exactly as much pain as he intended to with every single hit.

[cxncordia]

The yelp was a surprise. A sharp, involuntary sound of pure, unadulterated sensation. It wasn't a sound of pain, not really. It was the sound of a system overload, of a body trying to process two separate inputs in rapid succession. Addison's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. He had found a new rhythm, a new way to push the boy's limits.

He watched as Ethan hurried to catch up, the numbers tumbling out of his mouth, the gratitude almost an afterthought. The boy was flustered, off-balance, but he was still trying. He was still obeying. That was the important part. The struggle was the point. The lesson was in the effort, not in the perfect execution.

Addison saw the way Ethan's hands gripped the bedspread, the way his knuckles were white with tension. He saw the way his back was arched, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs straining with the effort of holding the position. He was a beautiful, trembling mess, a canvas of submission upon which Addison was painting his masterpiece.

He let the silence stretch for a moment, letting Ethan catch his breath, letting the ache settle into a deep, throbbing hum. He wanted the boy to feel the cumulative effect of the strikes, to understand that this was not a series of isolated incidents, but a continuous, escalating experience.

Then, he changed the rhythm again. He struck once, a sharp, stinging blow on the upper thigh, a new area of untouched skin. He waited for the count, for the gratitude. He watched Ethan flinch, heard the sharp intake of breath, the slightly shaky tremor in his voice.

And then, before the boy could even fully process the new sensation, he struck again, this time on the other thigh. The rhythm was erratic, unpredictable. He was keeping Ethan off-balance, forcing him to stay in the present, to focus on the here and now, on the next strike, the next count, the next expression of gratitude. He was a maestro, and Ethan's body was his instrument, playing a symphony of pain and pleasure. The boy was learning, and Addison was a patient, but firm, teacher. He knew that the true art of this kind of instruction was in the timing, in the pacing, in the ability to read the subject's reactions and adjust accordingly. He was not just inflicting pain; he was sculpting an experience, shaping Ethan's understanding of his own limits, of his own capacity for endurance and pleasure.

He watched the red lines bloom on Ethan's skin, a perfect pattern of stripes laid down by the belt. They were a beautiful thing, a mark of ownership, a visual representation of the bond they were forging. He saw the way Ethan's body tensed, the way his hands gripped the bedspread, but there was no flinch away from the expected impact. There was only a bracing, a receiving.

He waited for the count, for the gratitude. He waited for the next confirmation that the lesson was being learned, that the bond was being strengthened. "You are doing well, keep going," Addison reacted, his smirk thick and leery as he positioned himself behind Ethan to deliver two stinging leather hits one after the other. And he waited for the count to happen as he stared at the young man's reaction. He could feel his own cock stirring again at the sight of the boy's submission, at the sound of his voice, at the sight of the red lines on his skin. He wanted to take him again, to claim him, to mark him as his own. But he held back. The lesson was not over. The lesson was always the most important thing.

He was a man who savoured the process, the slow, deliberate breakdown and reconstruction of a willing subject. Ethan was not just a plaything; he was a project, a promise. The potential was immense, and Addison was the only one who could unlock it. He could see it in the boy's eyes, hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he held himself. He was a raw, uncut diamond, and Addison was the only one with the skill, the patience, and the desire to cut him, to shape him, to make him shine.

He struck again, a sharp, stinging blow on the crease where ass met thigh, a particularly sensitive spot. He watched Ethan's reaction, the way his body arched, the way a gasp was torn from his lips. He waited, his patience a tangible thing in the room, a heavy, oppressive blanket that was a comfort, and also a challenge. "I think it's time," Addison whispered to the boy's skin. He watched as a new kind of tension entered Ethan's shoulders. The boy was good, but he was reaching his limit. Addison could see it in the way he was holding himself, in the slight tremble in his hands, in the shallow, hitching breaths. He was tired, he was sore, and he was on the verge of breaking. And that was exactly where Addison wanted him.

He took the boy's hands and used the very same belt to bind them behind his back. "Good boy," he rumbled low and intimate. He ran a hand down Ethan's spine, feeling the goosebumps rise in its wake. He paused at Ethan's entrance, a tight, puckered ring of muscle that was clenched in anticipation. His fingers started moving, teasing around the rim. He felt the boy's reaction, a silent plea for more, or for it to stop, he couldn't be sure. He didn't care. He was in control.

"Soon, pup," he promised, the words a low, vibrating hum. "Soon, you will be ready. But for now, you will wait. You will learn patience. You will learn that pleasure is a gift, not a right. And you will learn that only I can give it to you."

With a final, possessive squeeze of the boy's ass, he stepped back, leaving him bound and waiting, a perfect picture of submission. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, to appreciate the beauty of the scene before him. The boy was a masterpiece, a work in progress, and he was the artist. He leaned forward while he spread those cheeks and decided to do something he hasn't done in a while: Addison's tongue came out as he began to eat him out, tasting him. This was a different kind of intimacy, a different kind of possession. He was marking the boy from the inside out, claiming him in the most primal way possible. He felt the boy's reaction, and he smiled against his skin. This was a lesson the boy would not soon forget.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan felt somehow both like he was floating, and like he was more present than he'd ever been. He was getting the feeling that contradicting sensations were a part of being with Addison. His body felt like a series of aches, from his still aching arms to the building stinging in his ass and the very slight soreness in his throat. Ethan didn't mind these aches in the slightest, and he hoped they'd linger for days.

The next hit hit his thigh, sending a new, sharper jolt of pain through him. He gasped, but to even his own surprise he only needed that one, shaky gasp of air before he managed to count. "Five, thank you, Sir." He thought he'd have several seconds to gather himself, seeing as Addison seemed to like letting the pain linger, but then the belt connected again, on his other thigh. Ethan almost got the number wrong then, "sev- no, six, Sir. Thank you." The pain was intense, radiating from his thighs, and still Ethan didn't shy away. The thought of asking Addison to stop didn't even cross his mind. He wanted this. He wanted the whole experience.

Addison's measured words of praise only strengthened Ethan's resolve. He was doing well, and he would keep doing well until Addison was done. Again the hits came too fast for Ethan to count them individually. "Seven, thank you sir. Eight, thank you, Sir." His arms vere shaking just slightly. Enough to annoy, enough to give him another thing to distract him from counting for Addison, but not enough to keep him from holding his position. He'd just have to focus harder on getting the count right. Addison couldn't mean to go on too much longer, could he? Maybe to ten? Or fifteen? Ethan tried to let the thought go. It would be over when it was over, his only job was to count.

"Ah!" Pain exploded from the top of his thighs as Ethan's back arched from the shock of it. This place hurt more than the other hits. Before he could count Ethan had to get his arms under control, force them to keep holding his weight. "Nine," he gasped, "thank you, Sir." He expected another hit to land in that sensitive spot where his ass met his thighs. He held his breath as he waited for the next hit, already repeating the number ten in his mind, trying to ensure he wouldn’t mess it up.

I think it’s time. Ethan froze for a moment, not sure at first what it was time for. Then Addison grabbed his hands and he felt the belt tighten around his wrists, restraining him. There would be no more strikes with the belt then. Ethan trembled in anticipation as Daddy touched his back, gently stroking his spine and called him a good boy again. Then Addison's fingers reached his hole, teasing it, and Ethan let out a shaky exhale.

When he first entered the room he'd been sure Addison would fuck him, but sometime during the kneeling he'd started to suspect he might not. Now, with the fingers teasing his rim he dared hope that Addison might take him in that way.

Soon. Ethan bit into his lip to hold back his whimper. Would soon be tonight, or was Addison just planning to make him aware of how much he wanted to be fucked only to deny him? He did whine when Addison stepped away, an involuntary, needy noise. But then the man's hands were back on his ass, making Ethan hopeful again. Addison's fingers didn't return to his rim, instead a new, wet sensation dragged against it. Ethan moaned, his eyes rolling back as Addison's tongue pressed into his hole, claiming it. This was pleasure like Ethan had never felt before, and the inexperienced sub was rock hard and leaking precum in seconds. "Daddy!" he gasped, "Ah, thank you, Sir!" It felt so good, Ethan's knees trembling from the pleasure of it. After all the ways he'd been hurting for Addison this was a precious gift.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan heard Addison approach, his ears tuned in on the other man. He heard each step against the hotel floor, drawing a nervous breath as he heard Addison right by him. His muscles tensed in anticipation. Something made contact with his back and he flinched before realising it was just Addison's hand. Exhaling in relief he let himself enjoy the touch. He pushed into it, loving the way Addison's hand felt against his skin.

The lawyer went on to assure him he wasn't being punished. He hadn't thought he was, but he still appreciated the assurance. He hadn't given much thought to what he'd thought this would be like since about halfway through the first stretch of kneeling. It was very clear to Ethan that submitting to Addison was a conpletely different thing than he'd imagined, but now Addison was showing him the parts of it that were more like he'd imagined, while still being different because the base facts of his submission were different. Sucking Addison's cock, being hit because Addison wanted to remind him of something, both of these things were things that had drawn Ethan to this dynamic, but the reality of servicing Addison's cock, and waiting for his belt, were very different from his fantasies. It was deeper, more intimate than the inexperienced submissive had expected. The anticipation he felt now, knowing Daddy was going to hit him, had little to do with the thrill of the pain, and a lot to do with receiving exactly what his Daddy wanted him to receive, and thereby giving himself over to him in yet another way.

Count them. Thank Addison for each one. Don't lose count. Ethan nodded his understanding. Presumably the order not to talk still counted with the exception of the counting and thank yous. He didn't know how many times Addison would hit him, but he swallowed down the urge to ask. If the man had wanted him to know he would have told him, it definitely wasn't worth disobeying a direct order for. So he kept his mouth shut, and just waited for it to start.

He didn't have to wait long. Once Ethan had nodded it wasn't long before he heard the belt, then a sharp pain exploded from his ass. This was a different pain than the ache in his arms. That was a dull ache that had gradually built up in his arms, and this was sharp and sudden. He needed a moment to process the pain, both more and less intense than he'd expected. Then he counted. "One, Sir, thank you," he said, his voice steady, for now. He wondered how many of these Addison would give him, and how he'd feel by the end of it.

[cxncordia]

The response was perfect. The words were steady, the delivery precise. There was no whine, no hint of rebellion, only a clear acceptance of the terms. Addison felt a surge of approval, a quiet satisfaction that settled deep within him. The boy was a natural. He was absorbing the lessons, adapting, and showing a capacity for this kind of intense submission that exceeded even Addison's initial assessment.

He watched the faint red line bloom on Ethan's skin, a perfect stripe laid down by the belt. It was a beautiful thing, a mark of ownership, a visual representation of the bond they were forging. He saw the way Ethan's body tensed, the way his hands gripped the bedspread, but there was no flinch away from the expected impact. There was only a bracing, a receiving.

Addison let the silence hang for a moment, letting the first sting settle, letting Ethan anticipate the next. This was as much a mental game as a physical one. He wanted the boy to live in the space between strikes, to focus on the memory of the last and the promise of the next. He wanted him to understand that the pain wasn't just a fleeting sensation, but a lingering presence, a constant reminder of his submission.

Then, with another swift, practiced motion, he brought the belt down again, this time on the other cheek, mirroring the first. The crack echoed in the room, a sharp, clean sound. He watched Ethan's back, saw the boy react to the belt and the cracking sound of the leather as it left a red, throbbing ache on the skin.

Again, he waited. He was a patient teacher, a meticulous craftsman. He knew that the true art of this kind of instruction was in the timing, in the pacing, in the ability to read the subject's reactions and adjust accordingly. He was not just inflicting pain; he was sculpting an experience, shaping Ethan's understanding of his own limits, of his own capacity for endurance and pleasure.

Addison waited for the count, for the gratitude. He waited for the next confirmation that the lesson was being learned, that the bond was being strengthened. "You are doing well, keep going," Addison reacted, his smirk thick and leery as he positioned himself behind Ethan to deliver two stinging leather hits one after the other. And he waited for the count to happen as he stared at the young man's reaction.

[helloxdesire]

In the time before the second hit landed Ethan felt the sharp stinging pain settle into a deeper ache. He expected the next hit to come quickly, but it didn't. Addison took his time, leaving Ethan to feel the sting while wondering when the belt would connect with his ass again. When it did Ethan yelped, having barely registered the sound of the belt before a new sting erupted on his other cheek. The impact somehow took him more by surprise this time, but he caught his breath, and counted. "Two, thank you, Sir."

Addison took the time to assure him he was going well then, and Ethan considered whether thanking the man for the reassurance would be acceptable. He had been told not to speak though, so instead he gave a small nod. His ass was already throbbing, but he was curious about how much Addison could make him feel. The pain was new and foreign and Ethan wanted more of it, not because it was thrilling and exciting, but because he was amazed by the submission that pain could make him feel, and in no small part because Addison wanted him to have more.

The next two hits came immediately after each other. When the first one landed Ethan was confused to hear the sound of the belt again, and before he had time to process the thought the belt connected with his skin again, making Ethan yelp, more from surprise than the pain, although the pain was more intense now after four hits than it had been.

"Three, sir, thank you," he hurried to count, not sure if Addison would keep going faster now, "four, thank you sir." He sounded out of breath and his ass stung, but god did he want more. Addison wielded the belt in a way that hurt intensely, but never too much. Well, at least not yet, Ethan supposed four hits in was a bit early to say so, but in the relatively short time he'd been with Addison it had become very clear that the man was constantly in control, and Ethan trusted him to inflict exactly as much pain as he intended to with every single hit.

[helloxdesire]

Waiting once again felt like one of the hardest things Ethan had done. He was being judged, and the awareness of that was heavy. Addison's gaze was so powerful he could feel it, even with his eyes on the floor. Soon the man would speak, and Ethan would know if he'd earned his rest. He thought he'd done good. He'd been very thorough with Addison's cock, and he'd assumed the position even though his arms ached. He'd been good. Addison had to agree, right?

Finally Addison stopped walking. He even crouched down in front of him. Ethan resisted the urge to look up and try to read his face. Earlier Addison had allowed him to look even though he was kneeling, but he remembered that looking down had been part of the original instructions, and he was determined to show Addison that he could hold the pose properly, even as he ached to look at him. He only glanced up as the lawyer touched his jaw and tolk him he'd pleased him. Immensely he said, and he called Ethan pup. Proud and hopeful Ethan looked up for a moment, taking in the sight of his Daddy before lowering his gaze again. He'd done well, he'd get the rest Addison had been talking about.

Even without looking Ethan knew Addison's face got stern again when he stood up, he could head it in his voice. As he words registered in his mind Ethan could have sobbed. He had been so set on earning his rest, a chance to lower his arms, let his body relax for a little while, only self control kept him from sobbing as Addison made it clear the lesson would continue instead. Only a sharp inhale hinted at Ethan's emotions. He was conflicted. The disappointment couldn't quite take root in him after that initial devastating realisation. Yes, he wanted to rest, a second ago he'd thought he needed it, but Addison was presenting him with the chance at another lesson. Ethan wanted another lesson. He wanted Addison to keep teaching him, even when it was hard, even when he was struggling and hurting, and even when he thought he was exhausted.

"Yes, Sir," he confirmed, the last words he'd speak until Sir gave him permission to speak again. Then he stood up, managing to do so without lowering his arms. Only when he got to the bed did he lower first one arm, then the other to his sides. He leaned forward and placed his hands as instructed: shoulder width apart on the bed. He spread his legs wider than shoulder width, as far as he comfortably could, then another inch for good measure. He didn't know what exactly he was going to receive, but he'd caught a glimpse of the belt as he stood, and his position was pretty suggestive. Would Addison really hit him with the belt? The thought was exciting and terrifying all at once. Ethan wanted to ask, but he wasn't meant to talk, only receive. So he just kept the position, and waited.

[cxncordia]

A flicker of something akin to pride went through Addison as he watched Ethan move. There was no hesitation, no argument, only a quiet, heartbreaking acceptance. The boy had learned the most crucial lesson: that the desire for rest was secondary to the desire to please. The disappointment was there, Addison could feel it radiating from him like a cold wave, but it was immediately suppressed, tamped down by a more powerful, more obedient need.

The position was perfect. Legs spread, back straight, hands planted firmly on the bed. It was a pose of complete vulnerability, an open invitation. Ethan was offering himself up, trusting that whatever came next was for his own good, a necessary part of his education. The trust was the most potent aphrodisiac.

Addison walked towards him, the belt looping around his hand. He could see the subtle tension in Ethan's back, the way the muscles bunched in anticipation. He could almost hear the frantic, hopeful, terrified thoughts racing through the boy's mind. Addison stopped directly behind him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Ethan's body.

He didn't raise the belt immediately. Instead, he reached out with his free hand, laying it flat against the small of Ethan's back. He felt the boy flinch at the contact, then slowly relax into it, leaning into the touch as if it were a lifeline. "This is not a punishment, pup," Addison said, his words softened and calm, unlike the silent storm he knew was raging in Ethan's head. "A punishment is for when you disappoint me. You have not disappointed me. This is instruction. This is to teach you the difference between pain for its own sake, and pain as a gift. A reminder. A mark."

He let his hand slide down, tracing the curve of Ethan's ass before resting on the back of his thigh. He held the belt doubled over in his other hand, the cool leather a familiar weight. "You will count them. You will thank me for each one. If you lose count, we will start over. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait for a verbal answer. He expected a nod, a physical acknowledgment of the command. He watched Ethan's head, waiting for that small, sharp dip of the chin that would signal the beginning of the next lesson. The boy was already learning to anticipate him, to read his intentions, to understand the unspoken rules of their world.

And then it began.

With a swift motion the belt in Addison's hands whistled through the air, before making contact with Ethan's flesh with a sharp crack. He put no real force into the strike, enough to make a point but not enough to break the skin. The sound of the leather striking the boy's skin echoed in the room, followed by a light but slow smile. Addison knew the sting would be intense, a flash of heat that would bloom into a dull ache.

He waited. Counting was not just a mechanical task; it was a way to keep the boy grounded, to force him to process the sensation rather than simply react to it. It was a way to keep him in the present, to keep him focused on Addison, on the lesson, on the gift he was being given.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan heard Addison approach, his ears tuned in on the other man. He heard each step against the hotel floor, drawing a nervous breath as he heard Addison right by him. His muscles tensed in anticipation. Something made contact with his back and he flinched before realising it was just Addison's hand. Exhaling in relief he let himself enjoy the touch. He pushed into it, loving the way Addison's hand felt against his skin.

The lawyer went on to assure him he wasn't being punished. He hadn't thought he was, but he still appreciated the assurance. He hadn't given much thought to what he'd thought this would be like since about halfway through the first stretch of kneeling. It was very clear to Ethan that submitting to Addison was a conpletely different thing than he'd imagined, but now Addison was showing him the parts of it that were more like he'd imagined, while still being different because the base facts of his submission were different. Sucking Addison's cock, being hit because Addison wanted to remind him of something, both of these things were things that had drawn Ethan to this dynamic, but the reality of servicing Addison's cock, and waiting for his belt, were very different from his fantasies. It was deeper, more intimate than the inexperienced submissive had expected. The anticipation he felt now, knowing Daddy was going to hit him, had little to do with the thrill of the pain, and a lot to do with receiving exactly what his Daddy wanted him to receive, and thereby giving himself over to him in yet another way.

Count them. Thank Addison for each one. Don't lose count. Ethan nodded his understanding. Presumably the order not to talk still counted with the exception of the counting and thank yous. He didn't know how many times Addison would hit him, but he swallowed down the urge to ask. If the man had wanted him to know he would have told him, it definitely wasn't worth disobeying a direct order for. So he kept his mouth shut, and just waited for it to start.

He didn't have to wait long. Once Ethan had nodded it wasn't long before he heard the belt, then a sharp pain exploded from his ass. This was a different pain than the ache in his arms. That was a dull ache that had gradually built up in his arms, and this was sharp and sudden. He needed a moment to process the pain, both more and less intense than he'd expected. Then he counted. "One, Sir, thank you," he said, his voice steady, for now. He wondered how many of these Addison would give him, and how he'd feel by the end of it.

[helloxdesire]

Good boy. Ethan was convinced those two words would never stop sounding so nice. He liked being Daddy’s good boy, he craved it even. Every word of praise from the older man was heavy and uplifting all at once, binding and releasing him simultaneously. He swallowed, feeling Addison's thumb on his chin, then his lips. The contact was gentle. Even as the hand moved, and the grip got firm at the back of his neck it felt nice. Addison's hands felt right on his skin. He wanted to answer, to confirm that he knew his place, but words seemed incredibly distant right now. Instead he just looked up at Sir, listening to his voice, taking in each word almost hungrily.

Now you will clean me. The order was given so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious that Ethan would obey. He supposed it was obvious. Disobeying certainly didn't feel like an alternative. It wasn't even because of the potential reward. Rest. At the start of this he would have struggled not to roll his eyes if Addison said he'd be desperate to earn rest, but the idea of Addison giving him a break, a chance to rest his aching muscles, was enticing and he did want it. What he wanted most was to obey though, to please Addison. He leaned in and began licking, thoroughly cleaning the cock, thinking of how it had just been down his throat. He let out a soft moan at the thought, his own hardness demanding his attention for a moment. It had taken backseat throughout this whole thing, present for a lot of it, but never allowed to be the focus. Even now he just shifted slightly and kept licking, cleaning his Sir with his tongue.

Once he was done, satisfied that he had gotten every trace of cum off of Daddy’s cock he straightened his back again, turned his gaze to the floor. He was almost exactly in the position Addison had taught him, and after a deep breath to steel himself he lifted his arms, whimpering as he put his hands back behind his head. It should have been easier now, his arms had had a chance to relax somewhat at least, but somehow it felt harder to hold position now. He didn't know how long Addison would keep him waiting this time, and just the idea of having to hold the pose for an extended amount of timd made the sub want to cry. He held his pose though, just as he'd been told, waiting not so patiently for Sir's verdict.

[cxncordia]

The whimper was a delicate, exquisite thing. It wasn't a sound of pain or protest, but of pure, unadulterated submission. Addison heard it, and it settled in his chest like a warm stone. He watched as Ethan, with a visible act of will, forced his trembling arms back into the position of surrender. The strain was evident in the taut lines of his shoulders, the faint tremor in his biceps. He was holding the pose not because it was easy, but because it was commanded. The beauty of it was breathtaking.

Addison allowed the silence to stretch, a palpable thing in the room. He wanted Ethan to exist in that space, to feel the burn in his muscles, to focus on the single, overwhelming task of obedience. He wanted him to anticipate the verdict, to dread and long for it in equal measure. This was the crucible. This was where the pup was truly forged.

He took his time, walking a slow circle around the kneeling boy. He observed him from every angle—the vulnerable curve of his neck, the faint sheen of sweat on his back, the tense set of his jaw. He was a study in contradiction: strong in his surrender, powerful in his weakness.

Finally, he stopped in front of him. He crouched down, bringing himself to Ethan's level, a rare gesture that was both intimate and intimidating. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of Ethan's jaw, feeling the tension there. "You have pleased me immensely, pup," he said, the words a low, soothing murmur. "Your service was... exemplary. And your patience is being rewarded."

He let the words sink in, watching the flicker of hope in Ethan's eyes. Then, he stood up, his expression shifting from one of approval to one of cool, detached command. "However, your lesson is not over. You have learned to service me with your mouth, and you have done well. But a pup's body is not just for my pleasure. It is also for my instruction. Your arms have learned one kind of strength tonight. Now, they will learn another."

He walked over to the heavy armchair by the window and retrieved the leather belt from where he had left it. The feel of it in his hands was familiar, comforting. He looped it casually around his palm, the leather cool against his skin. "You will stand up and go to the bed. You will place your hands flat on the mattress, shoulder-width apart. You will keep your back straight and your legs spread. You will not move. You will not speak. You will simply... receive. Do you understand?"

[helloxdesire]

Waiting once again felt like one of the hardest things Ethan had done. He was being judged, and the awareness of that was heavy. Addison's gaze was so powerful he could feel it, even with his eyes on the floor. Soon the man would speak, and Ethan would know if he'd earned his rest. He thought he'd done good. He'd been very thorough with Addison's cock, and he'd assumed the position even though his arms ached. He'd been good. Addison had to agree, right?

Finally Addison stopped walking. He even crouched down in front of him. Ethan resisted the urge to look up and try to read his face. Earlier Addison had allowed him to look even though he was kneeling, but he remembered that looking down had been part of the original instructions, and he was determined to show Addison that he could hold the pose properly, even as he ached to look at him. He only glanced up as the lawyer touched his jaw and tolk him he'd pleased him. Immensely he said, and he called Ethan pup. Proud and hopeful Ethan looked up for a moment, taking in the sight of his Daddy before lowering his gaze again. He'd done well, he'd get the rest Addison had been talking about.

Even without looking Ethan knew Addison's face got stern again when he stood up, he could head it in his voice. As he words registered in his mind Ethan could have sobbed. He had been so set on earning his rest, a chance to lower his arms, let his body relax for a little while, only self control kept him from sobbing as Addison made it clear the lesson would continue instead. Only a sharp inhale hinted at Ethan's emotions. He was conflicted. The disappointment couldn't quite take root in him after that initial devastating realisation. Yes, he wanted to rest, a second ago he'd thought he needed it, but Addison was presenting him with the chance at another lesson. Ethan wanted another lesson. He wanted Addison to keep teaching him, even when it was hard, even when he was struggling and hurting, and even when he thought he was exhausted.

"Yes, Sir," he confirmed, the last words he'd speak until Sir gave him permission to speak again. Then he stood up, managing to do so without lowering his arms. Only when he got to the bed did he lower first one arm, then the other to his sides. He leaned forward and placed his hands as instructed: shoulder width apart on the bed. He spread his legs wider than shoulder width, as far as he comfortably could, then another inch for good measure. He didn't know what exactly he was going to receive, but he'd caught a glimpse of the belt as he stood, and his position was pretty suggestive. Would Addison really hit him with the belt? The thought was exciting and terrifying all at once. Ethan wanted to ask, but he wasn't meant to talk, only receive. So he just kept the position, and waited.

[helloxdesire]

Ethan didn't have much in the way of a warning. He felt Addison's pace pick up, get more erratic, but the virgin didn't know what that meant in the context of a blow job. Then Addison's cock stilled deep down his throat and Ethan realized half a second before it happened that the lawyer was about to finish. He almost choked on the hot white cum that was shot down his throat, swallowing out of necessity rather than practice. Addison's cock was so deep that swallowing was all he could do.

That sound though. The ragged gasp just before Addison flooded his throat with cum, was about the most beautiful sound he'd heard. Addison was always entirely in control, and for the briefest moment that control cracked just enough to let out a sound that wasn't carefully measured out. An involuntary gasp because Ethan's body was bringing him pleasure. Now Ethan wasn't under any delusion that it was his natural skills at sucking cock that did it. Addison had very much controlled everything from the moment he started thrusting, but still, Ethan had been part of it, if only as a tool for Addison to use.

Then another two beautiful things happened. As Addison pulled out the firm grip on his hair became a gentle touch, a silent comforting gesture as Ethan's racing heartbeat slowed gradually. The other thing was that Addison spoke to him again. Just a bit ago Addison had said that the only reward he needed was Addison's voice, and now it felt especially true. The words were shaped like a question, but they were both a lesson and a command. What do you say? It was a blessedly easy question. The answer was obvious, and Ethan was grateful for that. His usually quick mind felt much slower, zeroed in on Addison as he was. The other part of it was that new word. Daddy. This was a new title for Addison, one more word he was allowed to call him. It felt more personal than Sir. He liked it, he decided, and after a second he swallowed, stretched his jaw and answered. "Thank you, Daddy," he said, shocked at how hoarse and ruined his voice sounded. He stopped for two hole seconds, almost struggling to believe that it was his voice, then he added "Thank you for feeding me."

[cxncordia]

The two words, "Thank you, Daddy," struck Addison with the force of a physical blow. They were more powerful than the gag, more intimate than the submission, more binding than any command he had given. He heard the raw, ruined timbre of Ethan's voice, a sound that was a direct result of the service he had just performed, and it settled deep in his bones. This was it. The final piece clicking into place. The boy wasn't just a sub; he was his. The word wasn't just a term of endearment; it was an acknowledgment of a fundamental shift in their dynamic, a surrender so complete it bordered on filial.

A slow, lazy, utterly satisfied smile spread across Addison's face. It was different from the smirk of command or the grin of possession. This was a smile of profound, almost tender contentment. He had done it. He had taken the raw, untested material and sculpted it into this. A beautiful, broken, and utterly devoted thing that looked at him with gratitude in its tear-filled eyes.

He watched Ethan swallow, saw the subtle adjustment of his jaw as the muscles protested. The boy was a mess, covered in sweat and tears, his lips swollen and glistening, a faint smear of cum on his chin. And he had never looked more perfect.

Addison reached out, his thumb gently wiping the smear from Ethan's chin before tracing the outline of those bruised lips. "Good boy," he rumbled, low and intimate. The words were simple, but they were imbued with a weight that made them feel like a benediction. "You are learning your place so well. And your place," he paused, letting the anticipation build, "is right here. At my feet. Eager to be fed."

His hand moved from Ethan's face to the back of his neck, a firm, grounding grip. He exerted a gentle pressure, a silent command that was an offer of comfort, a reassertion of control. "Your gratitude is noted, pup. And it is earned. Now, you will clean me up. Use your tongue. Be thorough. And then, we will see if you have earned the reward of rest."

He stood still, presenting himself, waiting for Ethan to obey. The lesson was continuous. Every action, every word, was another thread in the intricate web he was weaving around the boy, pulling him inextricably closer, binding him to Addison's will with a silken, unbreakable cord.

[helloxdesire]

Good boy. Ethan was convinced those two words would never stop sounding so nice. He liked being Daddy’s good boy, he craved it even. Every word of praise from the older man was heavy and uplifting all at once, binding and releasing him simultaneously. He swallowed, feeling Addison's thumb on his chin, then his lips. The contact was gentle. Even as the hand moved, and the grip got firm at the back of his neck it felt nice. Addison's hands felt right on his skin. He wanted to answer, to confirm that he knew his place, but words seemed incredibly distant right now. Instead he just looked up at Sir, listening to his voice, taking in each word almost hungrily.

Now you will clean me. The order was given so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious that Ethan would obey. He supposed it was obvious. Disobeying certainly didn't feel like an alternative. It wasn't even because of the potential reward. Rest. At the start of this he would have struggled not to roll his eyes if Addison said he'd be desperate to earn rest, but the idea of Addison giving him a break, a chance to rest his aching muscles, was enticing and he did want it. What he wanted most was to obey though, to please Addison. He leaned in and began licking, thoroughly cleaning the cock, thinking of how it had just been down his throat. He let out a soft moan at the thought, his own hardness demanding his attention for a moment. It had taken backseat throughout this whole thing, present for a lot of it, but never allowed to be the focus. Even now he just shifted slightly and kept licking, cleaning his Sir with his tongue.

Once he was done, satisfied that he had gotten every trace of cum off of Daddy’s cock he straightened his back again, turned his gaze to the floor. He was almost exactly in the position Addison had taught him, and after a deep breath to steel himself he lifted his arms, whimpering as he put his hands back behind his head. It should have been easier now, his arms had had a chance to relax somewhat at least, but somehow it felt harder to hold position now. He didn't know how long Addison would keep him waiting this time, and just the idea of having to hold the pose for an extended amount of timd made the sub want to cry. He held his pose though, just as he'd been told, waiting not so patiently for Sir's verdict.

[helloxdesire]

Camilo moaned again as Allen exposed his skin. He shared the anger at how clean it was, and he wanted Allen to fix it. The actor knew his lover was more than capable of leaving marks while getting a blow job, and it frustrated him that he wouldn’t scratch at the offending skin, or do anything to mark it up already. The frustration was likely a part of it though, he knew Allen liked him frustrated. He hoped Allen wouldn't draw it out too long, that he would start marking him up soon. Surely the older man was just as frustrated as him. Allen loved when Camilo's skin was littered in proof of his ownership after all, maybe even more than Milo himself.

When Allen came Milo swallowed like it was second nature. The familiar taste of his Daddy’s cum down his throat and in his mouth was grounding in a way. It was comforting, undeniable proof that he had pleased his Sir. He half moaned, half whined when Allen pulled out. Cum and drool slipped from his mouth before he could stop it, but the delicious shame barely had a chance to settle before Allen wiped the spill with his thumb and let Milo lick it up. This too came as naturally as breathing. He'd been trained thoroughly to not let Daddy’s cum go to waste. Then followed more praise, and Milo was starting to feel floaty. The degradation added just the right amount of shame, making Milo blush at how much he craved it.

"Yes, Sir," he somehow managed to say, and crawled to the bed for good measure. His lips made speaking feel strange and foreign, with how bruised and swollen they were. He didn't let that stop him though. He got in position, on his back on the bed, using his hands to pull his legs up and spread them. Allen had said he wanted to see his hole after all. "Sir," he said, the word coming out slightly slurred because of his swollen lips. "Sir, will you mark me up now? Please?" He looked hungrily at Daddy, seeing his bare, steong chest. He felt so small, so desperate for his lover, and he loved it. He loved how fragile he felt when Allen looked at him like this.

He just needed to be marked, anyway his Daddy wanted. He knew Allen would get to it when it suited him. Begging might persuade him to get to it faster, but it could just as soon make him decide Milo needed to wait longer. And yet, the actor couldn't help it, he needed to beg for Allen's marks on him. "Please Daddy? A hickey at least? I need something, please?"

[cxncordia]

The slurred plea, so desperate and so raw, struck Allen with the force of a revelation. He saw the boy on the bed, a perfect tableau of submission—legs spread, hole exposed, body trembling with a need that was almost painful to witness. The use of "Daddy" was the final twist of the knife, a key that unlocked a darker, more possessive chamber of his desires. It was a word that stripped away the last pretense of their everyday life, leaving only the raw, primal dynamic that simmered beneath the surface.

Allen watched, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. He saw the desperation in Milo's eyes, the way he writhed on the bed, his body a silent prayer for the pain and pleasure that only Allen could give him. The boy was begging for a mark, a simple hickey, a token of ownership. But Allen wanted more. He wanted to rewrite the story of Milo's skin, to replace the memory of cameras and studios with the indelible proof of his possession.

"So eager," Allen murmured, a low, dangerous purr in his words. He didn't move, letting the anticipation hang in the air, thick and heavy. He unbuckled the heavy leather belt, the sound a sharp, metallic crack that seemed to echo in the silent room. He pulled it through the loops of his jeans, the worn leather a familiar weight in his hands. He didn't intend to use it as a strap, at least not yet. It was a prop, a symbol of his authority. "You want something, little girl? You think a hickey is enough to erase what they did to you?"

He walked to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, the belt dangling from his hand like a promise of pain. He stood over Milo, a looming shadow of masculine power. He could see the fear and the excitement warring in the boy's eyes, the way his body tensed in anticipation.

Allen knelt on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He didn't touch Milo, not yet. He just looked, letting his gaze roam over the boy's body, over the smooth, unblemished skin that was a blank canvas for his depravity. He could see the way Milo's hole clenched and unclenched, a silent, desperate plea for attention.

"You want a mark?" Allen's voice was a low growl. "I'll give you a mark. I'll give you so many you'll forget what it feels like to be clean."

He leaned down, his breath hot against Milo's ear. "But first, I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you beg for it like the desperate little slut you are. Beg for Daddy to ruin you." He waited, letting the silence stretch, letting the weight of his words settle over Milo. He could see the conflict in the boy's face, the shame and the desire, the desperate need to please.

[helloxdesire]

Milo looked at the belt, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He liked the belt. It made him bruise and tended to hurt for days when Daddy used it on him. He wanted that, the bruises that the belt would leave on his skin. Daddy’s words didn't sound like he was planning to cover Milo's body in a mess of bruises just yet though.

Defeated the boy shook his head. "No, Daddy." He knew a hickey wouldn't erase anything. There was so much clean skin, but a hickey would be a start, one patch of his skin clearly claimed by Daddy while the man fucked him. He knew he'd end up bruised and marked all over, he just wanted something to start with before they got to that point.

Allen joined him on the bed. He was strong and imposing and Milo looked up at him, as eager and desperate as he was nervous. Allen was no joke when he was in this mood, dangerous and possessive. The clear skin was someone else's mark on Milo in a way, it represented someone else's claim on his skin, and that had to infuriate Allen. Tonight would surely hurt, a lot, and that would have terrified Milo if it wasn't exactly what he wanted. Allen was a demanding lover, and Milo craved exactly that.

"Please," he said again when he was told to beg. The promise that Daddy would mark him was a relief. He had just started to worry that Allen might want to deny Milo the marks he craved more than he wanted to mark him. "I know it won't erase it, Daddy, that a hickey isn't enough. There’s so much skin Daddy, and I need you to mark it all, to claim every inch of it," he paused, looked at Daddy. "I just- a hickey would be a start. Not enough, but proof that my skin is yours again, that they don't get to decide anymore. I want more though, need more." He whimpered, shame filling him as he spoke. "Please, Allen, ruin me, mark me, I want anyone who sees me to know that I belong to you. Please."