𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
🌼Damiano × reader
part9 of ??? [parts1-8]
NSFW!🔥 kinky smutastic explicit rude sexytimes[potential trigger warning: for accidental bodily harm& mentions of blood]
° Damiano David & female reader insert
wordcount:: 10,084
° anon request to the power of 2- beginning with the origin of the series: i was wondering if you could do a corruption kink fic with damiano and a female reader. + another anon who wrote in: i might request a punishment and aftercare for the stained sheets? mabye a rough one to make damiano suffer too because hed feel guilty after and reader would have to assure him that if something overwhelmes him he can safe word too [ask & it shall be given- requests are open] ° treated as a commission care of the lovely anon who sent a tip my way, giving a special shoutout to this series
° my commission cue is now clear!!☕ grab yourself a cup of prioritea righthere cuties
Damiano had been in a bad mood all day (even before he had to leave for a lengthy round of signing contracts - pushing Måneskin into new territories meant new deals had to be struck, from record companies overseas affiliates, different touring companies, to all the companies who wanted to use their hype to sell, sell and sell some more).
It had all started with the absence of his morning cup of coffee - your fault, you had finished off the last of the instant coffee the afternoon prior. He didn’t understand why you hadn’t warned him, or tried to rectify the situation yourself. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t order a café-made beverage (he could surely afford UberEats), if he required caffeine that desperately. You were used to him craving tea more than anything, anyway.
He couldn’t explain to you why coffee was his main focus this morning, all he could express was that he was disappointed in you. Making him a cup of tea didn’t solve his pouting, even though he had thanked you.
You kept to yourself any jokes that fame had officially changed him and now that he had internationally recognised awards, he was a diva. Instead you gave him space to be crabby, to feel these frustrations on a level that didn’t quite match the significance. He was cute when he was petty and irritated.
When it was time for him to get ready to leave, he found something new to bitch about, shouting your name out from the bathroom, interrupting your playing video games. You got up from the couch, heading towards the sound of his voice.
“What the Hell do you call all of this?” He asked, scowling as he gestured to his neck and some red patches across his bare chest.
You squinted, stepping in a little closer. “Hm, some sort of rash, it could be fatal.” You had left hickeys, you had done so without asking his permission, that would surely earn you more than a couple of spanks. But they looked good on his skin and you were ready to defend yourself by pointing out that he hadn’t complained when you had been creating them. “It’s hard to say, really. Especially because I dropped out of med school before I could get my degree in dermatology.”
He didn’t match your smile, instead glaring at you. “You’re being a real brat today, do you know that?”
You bit into your bottom lip, but you could do no more to contain the giddy grin on your face. Hearing that single word had you feeling an electric charge in the air between the two of you. It had been a while since he had called you that, even longer since your last proper punishment - the most recent had been your task of cleaning his shower in your birthday suit, but he hadn’t even been around to watch or ensure you were doing your chore correctly.
You saw a glimmer of potential, sensing that anything could happen and it motivated you to push a little more.
You faked an exasperated sigh, complete with rolling your eyes. “Is this about the fuckin’ coffee again, your majesty?”
Something flashed in his eyes and his brows jumped up. “You wanna run that by me one more time?” You folded your arms, staying silent. “If I didn’t have to go to work- you would so be getting punished.”
You proceeded to ignore this threat altogether. “Hey, I have an idea. Did you want me to get a marker and I can write on the back of your hand- just make a little note so that you don’t forget to get coffee while you’re out?”
He stepped into the space directly in front of you and hooked a finger under your Chanel collar, pulling it taut, exerting some power. “Watch yourself, bad kitten.”
Your lip trembled as your mind was almost taken over by the urge to say, or what? But you just smiled at him, acknowledging that your point had already been made.
Thick, in the air between the two of you - you could feel the intoxicating, disorientating duel that lust was having out with danger. You couldn’t stop yourself from being drawn into his dark mood, a taste for it settling at the back of your throat.
“Whatever you say, Master.” It could have sounded like the compliance of a well-behaved submissive, if not for the tone of voice you used when delivering the phrase.
He let go of your necklace, the beginnings of a smirk twitching at his cheek. You turned around, leaving him to finish getting ready. As you walked back to the living room, you discovered that the tension wasn’t just in the air between the two of you - the whole apartment was now filled with that electric charge, what could have been a warning sign.
The atmosphere was now so different, but you found that you liked it. You were kept on your toes - your mind abuzz with comebacks should he have anything else to say, more ways to outwit him, or otherwise vex him.
You sat back down on the couch and automatically picked up your gaming controller, before hesitating. You found that the world of Pokémon wasn’t your main priority. You felt a deep resistance to returning to your state of relaxation.
You felt you should be somewhat prepared for what would come next, because you were absolutely certain that this was not over.
--- --- ---
The unresolved tension permeated the apartment, lingering long after he had left for the afternoon. You could feel the threats dancing in the air all around you. It was like waiting for a show to start - that moment of almost holding your breath before the first note of music hit.
Or it was a gun that had been cocked, and you were just waiting for it to be fired. You felt yourself at the edge of your seat.
You found yourself unable to properly concentrate, forced to put on something you had already watched - Bridgerton. You had been meaning to re-watch the first season without sewing in front of you, stealing your focus.
But fifteen minutes in, you realised this was not a wise decision. You were shifting uncomfortably on the couch as two characters fucked against a tree. It didn't matter that this was the most lacklustre sex scene of the series - it was enough to have your cheeks filling with heat. Just the idea of sex made you yearn for your boyfriend, made you feel the unresolved lust so heavily in your chest.
You tore your eyes off of the tv and grabbed your phone from the couch cushion beside you. There weren't any notifications from Damiano to get your attention - instead you considered the time, calculating that he had been gone for three hours. You opened the messaging app, decided that it wasn't too early to be contacting him.
What time are you gonna be home? I wanna make you dinner - you hadn't a single meal that you could prepare for him in mind. But the fabrication allowed you to avoid immediately showing how needy you were feeling.
Not sure yet, babygirl. We all wanna be done with the boring business shit cos Thomas has this riff he wants to play us, but not yet, more talking numbers and living the dream. You could hear his voice saying this so sarcastically, probably rolling his eyes a little. I'll message you when I'm getting in the car. He closed out the text with a couple of heart emojis.
You sent back a kissy face and what hopefully came across as a relaxed response - sounds good.
You could pretend that you weren't feeling impatient - making yourself a cup of tea and not messaging him. You knew that he would be having fun in the studio and you would never want to interrupt the band's creative process. You played games on your phone and told yourself that you could easily endure this.
The impatience came slithering back in, your jaw clenched as you sat through the third episode. The heroine was learning how to masturbate and you were shifting your legs - placing the left over the right, pressing your thighs against one another. Your underwear was feeling uncomfortably tight.
Afterwards, Daphne looked so pleased with herself, smiling a secret smile that you envied. You were thinking of how much better you would feel to just come and get it out of the way. You got up from the couch, going to the bedroom as you wondered over whether or not you had packed your vibrating wand into your bag for this visit.
The large device was there, lying amongst your clothes. You bit into your lip, so tempted to pick the toy up, your fingers practically itching and your cunt aching from all the blood that was rushing to the area.
But you resisted, it wouldn't be the same without his approval.
You were typing a new message to him, Daddy. You felt pathetic, so desperate that you couldn't wait for his response before sending your next message, I miss you.
He sent you back a short, but very loud video. The music was more than just Thomas' guitar, now Ethan was drumming to add to the tune. To this new song, Damiano was bopping around, incorporating some flourishes with his available hand. Victoria appeared in the background, bouncing happily.
Stop being so cute when I'm already so needy over you - you responded, with a sad faced emoji to complete the message. He reassured you, I'll take care of my needy girl when I get home.
It's hard to wait, when all I can think of is what you could do to take care of me.
Can you do me a favour? - he asked and your thumb hovered over the touchscreen, but his next message had come through before you could type a single letter. Look up the definition of the word patience.
Yes, Master - you held yourself back from adding any eye-rolling emojis.
You didn't send another message, you put your phone down - a way of gagging yourself, determined to leave him to his work. It didn't matter how clingy your horniness was making you feel, that wasn't his priority right now.
If you stopped messaging, he would stop thinking about it - but it was far from that simple for you. It was like a pressure on your chest and all that you wanted was to relieve it.
Your empty hands clenched and your eyes moved back to the wand. You felt your heart rate increasing and you reached for your bag. You went so far as to take the vibrator out, lying it across your lap and just staring at it.
It had been so long since you had played with yourself without his participation, guidance or permission. It felt alien and strange. Certainly this would be viewed as misbehaviour in the eyes of your master.
But you couldn't get yourself to put the wand away. It was an itching, which kept your attention, making you fidget.
If you could only scratch it.
--- --- ---
You withheld from indulging with the vibrating wand for a little over an hour, making it through another episode of Bridgerton as you ate a tortilla. You had kept your phone close at hand, despite receiving no new messages from Damiano.
But now you had run out of lives in the puzzle games on your phone. And the itch was still present. You took the clean dishes out of the dishwasher, stacking them neatly away before placing your lone plate into the appliance. Your mind wandered out of the kitchen, instead travelling down to the bedroom. You looked around yourself, seeking something to fill your empty, idle hands.
You stared at the screen of your phone, not looking up as you walked the familiar path to his bedroom. You were trying to make a notification from him come into reality by simply hoping hard enough. You wanted him to distract you with a message but you couldn’t send another one.
You wanted him, but you also needed to not bug him during work. The cuteness of needy had a shelf life.
In the interest of not moving into the territory of annoying, you picked the vibrator up, but this time you kept it in your hand. You had resolved to take care of yourself and you sat down on the bed, spreading your legs. You placed your phone aside as you started to feel into your body, trying to tap into the natural path of your desires, just like he had taught you.
You would feel better for masturbating - you would be able to relax and think about something other than sex. Even though you were desperate for whatever small relief you could get, you were aware that you weren’t acting at your most obedient.
You tinkered with the intensity settings of your toy, leaning back against the pillows as you planned how to edge yourself. You hoped that the lack of orgasm would lessen his disappointment over not being included in this. You planned for a temporary escalation, a quick increase in excitement. But nothing that would leave you rattled for hours, or leave you too exhausted to meet his energy when he got home.
You pressed the vibrating head to your stomach, against your bare skin and you applied pressure, letting the pulsations run deeper. With your free hand, you started to lift the bottom of your shirt. The clothing had begun to feel suffocating on your heated skin, so you tossed it across the room - your grip on the toy not slipping.
Your exposed nipples instantly perked up and a low sigh escaped your lips as you eased the wand a little lower. You leaned back, legs stretching out then squirming across the rumpled sheets. Lying on his bed, you were surrounded by his scent, like an echo of all of his past embraces and it brought those memories even closer. When your eyes began to flutter shut, you had images of him flash through your mind. His voice was now so familiar to you that it wasn’t difficult to imagine him saying the things that you needed to hear.
You brought the wand down to rest at the waistband of your panties. You had no intention to remove the lacy pink lingerie - it was simply unnecessary because you weren’t planning on penetration.
You were squirming a bit more, feeling heat swarming to your cunt and the vibrations were starting to mess with your nerves. The arousal was swelling up, a blissful wave that wanted to cover you. You gave into how good this all felt and switched the pulsations up to the next level of intensity.
With a shudder, you tilted your hips forward. You bit into your lip as memories of past adventures upon this bed began to bombard you. It was easy to get lost in all of this, caring less about the toy staying in one place as you instead fixated on the memory of the first time he had blindfolded you. It was here that you had called him Daddy for the first time. Sitting on the ground next to the bed, you had swallowed his cum for the first time. Each first got him so excited, making him want to celebrate the significance with an impassioned, hard fucking.
You moaned as you dragged the toy up, regaining control before the bulb could get any closer to your clitoral hood. It had slipped onto your mound, mere inches from the hood, serving to send jolts of excitement directly to your core.
It was vibrating too hard to get that close to your clit without posing a threat to your composure. Even though this endangered your plan, you couldn’t make yourself take the wand away. You were too weak to turn the vibrations down. You were getting carried away, choosing to ignore every opportunity to stop, in favour of having more breath robbed from your lungs.
You let your whole body indulge, more noises coming from your throat as you stopped trying to control your reactions. This resulted in your hips jolting up, a feeling of wanting to break becoming your strongest desire. Your next whimper was louder as the pleasant tingling radiated out.
Was this still technically edging? You didn’t pause to Google the definition, instead just following what felt good. There was still so much to be explored between your current state and the finish line of climaxing.
You rolled to your side, the wand still in place, until you were lying on top of it, with your body now positioned to be face-down. This allowed you to grind against it, your hips moving in a jittery way that was devoid of any style. But it felt great.
In fact, it felt so fantastic that your jaw had become slack, saliva slipping over your bottom lip to form the beginnings of a puddle on his pillowcase. Your nostrils were filled with the scent of his shampoo, which brought back memories of silky thick hair grasped between your fingers.
You kept rubbing yourself against the toy, letting the friction build. It was a pointless endeavour, but you couldn’t help whimpering a little as you lost yourself in the fun of indulging. You weren’t thinking of the predetermined unsatisfactory ending of this edging session, instead you were letting your body do what it wanted. Which at the moment was grinding the head of the wand closer to your pussy, all the while letting your sounds of delight get louder, expressing yourself with more freedom.
“Babygirl…”
You hardly reacted at first, assuming this was just a memory. You blamed it upon your arousal - it was tricking your senses and making this recollection even more vivid. Everything was heightened and it made the lust captured in these memories feel close enough to touch.
“Where are you? Is my sleepy kitty already asleep?”
Your eyes snapped open, this realisation of just how wrong you were, made a cold shiver run down your spine. You instantly shut yourself up and your fingers fumbled for the toys' control buttons. You were already holding your breath a little as you heard Damiano’s footsteps down the hallway, accompanied by the jingling of various strands of jewellery knocking against one another. You wiped the drool from your chin and sat up, placing the wand under one of your legs. You weren’t able to plan any ways out of this, you were too frazzled to even know what to expect.
He appeared in the doorway and your heart fluttered as you showed him a weak smile. “Hey, what’re you up to?” He didn’t rush over to be at your side, instead taking the time to remove his boots. “Are you alright? You look a…”
“Um, yeah, I’m just…”
He walked closer to the bed, his smile growing wider as he did. “Oh, wait a minute, I know that look.” He licked his lips and lowered himself down to sit alongside you. “And the messages you were sending…” He pushed your hair away from your face, curling it behind one ear with a tender-level of care. “Why am I surprised to find you wearing that look, and not much else?”
He stroked the side of your face and moved in closer, allowing you to feel his body heat. He was looking into your eyes, making you squirm because it was more than your heart that was fluttering now. “Was my horny kitty unhappy about being left home alone?”
“Yeah.” You said breathlessly. “I have to tell you something.”
“Oh?” His lips were less than an inch from yours. “Do you have a li’l secret to share?” He paused and shifted how he was sitting. He started to reach down to your leg. “Hang on, what is this in…” He wrapped his fingers around the toy and lifted it up, out from beneath your limb. “What’s this doing in here? Is that why you’re just in your panties and looking all flustered?”
“Yes, I-”
“Were you playing with yourself, behind my back, without permission?”
“I- kind of, it wasn’t- I wasn’t going to- I just…” You were babbling and you tried to take the toy into your own hands, but he moved it out of your grasp. “I haven’t done anything but edge and I swear that’s all I was gonna do. I mean, look- look at me, I haven’t even taken my panties off. And I wasn’t going to, I really wasn’t…”
He was nodding. “Right, I can see that. And you won’t get to take them off.”
“But they’re all wet and they feel-”
“Do they feel like misbehaviour? ‘Cause that’s what you were doing. Misbehaving, being a naughty li’l thing. You really couldn’t wait for thirty minutes?” He asked.
“This isn’t how good girls behave, you know that, right? This kind of thing, this is shit that brats do.” He said and you felt your throat clench. “And you don’t want to be a brat, do you?” You shook your head. “No, and that’s exactly what I thought.
“Well, we can fix that and you can be my good girl again.” He said.
Quickly, you had begun to nod. “I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever you want. You know I will. I’ll keep these on for as long as you tell me to.”
“Oh, I think we’ll need to go further than that. I don’t think that keeping your wet panties on is much of a punishment. Is that really gonna help you learn your lesson? ‘Cause I’m not totally convinced.”
You grabbed his leg and gave it a squeeze. “Anything you want, Master.”
“I do have something in mind, something new. Can I show you and if you don’t like the look of it, we can decide on something different together?” He asked. His voice was filled with nothing but warmth and it made you want to let your guard down, to invest in the idea that maybe this punishment wouldn’t be too intense.
“Of course.” You said with a smile.
He got up, heading across the floor, in the direction of the shut wardrobe. “You’re allowed to be brutally honest. I paid, like, next to nothing for this, so it’s not a big deal if you don’t wanna use it.” You tilted your head to the side, curiosity rising as you watched him looking through the wardrobe. He was reaching up to the top shelf.
When he turned back to you, you saw that he now held a long stick in his hand. It was thin, and tan in colour, hardly as intimidating as anything that had been used on you in the past. As he walked over to the bed, he twirled the strip of rattan in the air and you were reminded of a cheerleader with a baton. Surely this would need to be attached to something else - what kind of punishment could be handed down with such a flimsy-looking length of wood?
“Cane.” He offered an explanation to all of your unasked questions.
“Oh, but I thought I wasn’t supposed to get fixated on spanking…” You said. “You called it basic.”
“This is different to spanking. It’s under that umbrella of impact play, sure.” He said. He propped one of his knees onto the bed, leaning and letting you get a closer look at the cane. “But this isn’t going to feel anything like the other times I’ve spanked you. You see how thin this is? It’s not gonna feel like my hand or the flogger or our paddle.”
“I’m open to trying it.” You said and it didn’t matter that you didn’t know what to expect - the quiver of curiosity was running deeper through your body.
This made him smile and he put a hand under your chin, keeping your face tilted up to his so that he could kiss you. “Of course you are. I have a question and I want an honest answer- what level did you have your magic wand set at?”
“Um…” There wasn’t any display screen and you hadn’t properly been paying attention to how many times you had pushed the plus-sign button. “I guess that it was, like, a seven, or an eight. I’m not really sure though, but-”
“Aw.” He cooed, sitting down with you again. “My silly kitten was too horny to care about counting, huh? That’s okay. I know how you get, how insatiable and excitable you get- so I think it’s a safe assumption to place you at the higher of those options. But I ask all of this ‘cause I think you should get a caning for each of those levels. Eight, that seems like a good number, right?”
“Eight?” That was much lower than any past punishment and you sat up a bit straighter, looking him in the eye as you nodded. “Yep, that’s a good number- it’s great, actually.”
“Don’t get too keen or cocky yet, babygirl. We can’t have you getting ahead of yourself.” He moved in closer and you turned your face to follow him, your lips parting in preparation of a kiss. Instead his mouth moved over, whispering into your ear. “‘Cause it’s gonna be eight on each cheek.”
It was still lower than you had expected, you had to consider the possibility that he didn’t think you could take it. “That makes sense.”
He smiled, his fingertips moving down the line of your spine as your cheek was treated to some lingering kisses. “I’m glad you agree. And you know that at any moment, no explanation required, no questioning, no need to say it more than once-”
You provided the safe word immediately. “Pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin, that’s exactly right.” He said, laying his lips on yours, indulging you in a longer kiss this time.
As you followed him into this slow rhythm, you made an observation that his mean streak might not be presenting itself tonight. The frustrations from this morning appeared to have melted away as he kissed you sweetly - sweet enough that you weren’t feeling the threat of having to wear the label of brat.
When you felt his tongue, it was a slow arrival, easing into your mouth. You moved in closer, placing your arms around his shoulders. His hands on you weren’t groping, instead treating you to tender caresses. No one was fighting for dominance.
Until he clapped both of his hands onto your butt, bringing a surprised whimper from you as the kiss was broken. He just grinned, full of devious delight. “Across my lap, kitty.”
You moved to give him a kiss before repositioning yourself, but he leaned away. In response to your pouting, he gave you the simple instruction that any more knees would have to be ‘earned’. You didn’t voice any complaints, silently lying the front of your body over his legs. You were certain you would be achieving this goal easily and quickly.
You presented your rear to him, but it seemed he was dissatisfied by how much was showing. He plucked some of the fabric between his fingers and tugged until it was all gathering between your cheeks, leaving them entirely uncovered. This served to bring the crotch of the panties closer to your skin, making your wetness impossible to ignore. It was uncomfortable and it was such a clear marker of how desperate you were, that you couldn’t help but blush.
Your attention was ripped elsewhere when he brought the stick down to hit your ass. You heard the snap before you felt the sharp stinging. The pain was so immediate and clear that you were able to visualise what it must look like, a bright pink line blossoming quickly to life. He was right, it didn’t feel anything like the impact play you had dabbled in previously. This was far more concentrated and intense, it was even more intense than the pleasures you had been guiding yourself towards with the wand.
The shock manifested itself in a yelp, which you followed up with a laugh that reflected just how short on breath you were. But you smiled, absolutely thrilled by how this was adding to the heat already pooled between your thighs.
“Did you like that?” He asked and you moaned out your approval, nodding your head. “And do you want more?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Tell me how many more you want.”
“Fifteen, please Master.”
You didn’t have to check back over your shoulder, you could tell from his tone of voice that he was wearing a smile as he spoke. “Good girl. Do you wanna keep track of that count for me? That way, I know you’re properly paying attention during this lesson I’m teaching you.”
“Yes, of course.”
The next strike came down upon the other cheek and you were amazed all over again. It was a shock to your entire nervous system and you felt yourself even closer to that edge of complete bliss.
He let each lashing stand on its own, an event separate from the last thanks to the seconds he gave you to recover between each. Some pauses felt longer than others, but each time was long enough for you to correct the countdown you were keeping in your mind.
Then he would strike you again - alternating from one cheek to the other, evenly distributing the punishment as he had promised to do. You grabbed for the edge of the mattress and gripped it through the mounting pain. Even as your throat clenched and you kicked your feet a little, you knew that you wanted more. You wanted to taste more of this hurt and the high that chased it.
His concentration was so that he was silent, but you weren’t able to channel that same level of quiet. The more that he caned you, the louder you became - your moans and stutters getting to be loud enough to drown out the crack of each strike.
With your skin feeling raw, it was becoming difficult to identify which cheek he was hitting. It was all starting to run together, the individual strikes losing their significance and just adding to the all-consuming sensation of pain. You did your best to keep your attention on the countdown, even though all that you wanted to do was dissolve into pleasures and go mindless, to let your arousal make you stupid.
“Why won’t you say your safe word?” He asked - the question coming in the lull that followed your twelfth spank.
“Because I want this.”
You didn’t release your hands from the fists that held the edge of the mattress, nor did you raise your head to look back at him. You were certain to not break this position as you awaited the last of your caning.
But the thirteenth hit didn’t come. Instead, he was speaking again, in a tone of voice that didn’t match his usual ferocity when punishing you.
“But I’m hurting you.”
You could have laughed - wasn’t that the point of all of this? Your instincts told you that laughing wouldn’t be well-received right now.
“But I like it.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“But I…” Confusion cut through the fogginess your lust had created. You stopped fixating on how there were only six hits left as you made a grasp for clarity. “What?”
Lifting your head and rolling onto your side a little, you were able to look at him. Straight away, it was evident that this wasn’t a joke. You didn’t see humour on his face, the expression he wore was something like distress. This was far more worrying to you than any of the lingering hurt across your rear-end.
“What’s going on?”
“I made you bleed.” His voice was so quiet, this level of seriousness was so far removed from what you were used to that it had you feeling a little disorientated. He had let go of the rattan stick, his hands moving to your body, to help you sit up.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” You said, aware of how tender your body felt, but not in a way that inspired actual concern.
Checking on the state of your own butt wasn’t the easiest - requiring you to twist in an unnatural way. You crossed an arm over your lap, pulling your shoulder forward as you turned your head. It wasn’t a complete view, but it was enough for you to see the damage that had transfixed him to the point of forgetting your punishment.
It looked much worse than it had felt when he had been repeatedly laying the cane into your skin. You saw thin lines of red slashed across the flesh, some were deeper in colour than others. You could see at least one that had begun to bead with blood.
It looked like a sight of trauma, a clear cut above the other marks he had left on your body. But you were reminded of paper cuts and scraped knees - inconsequential injuries that might not grab your attention straight away. The adrenaline (the fraught tension you had been building all day) was keeping you from feeling the pain as any kind of real threat.
Your ass throbbed and stung, but you didn’t think you would be crying over this, not while your blood was pumping to so many other parts of your body. Feeling this pain was far from the top of your list of priorities.
But you didn’t resist his efforts to take care of you, to treat this injury as something that required immediate attention. He scooped you up in his arms, saying the wounds needed to be rinsed. You could feel and see that he was trembling as he took you into the bathroom.
You were relieved to be freed from your panties as he started up the shower. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” He asked, holding a hand under the stream as he tested the water temperature. “You’re the one who’s bleeding.” He wasn’t removing any articles of clothing and you were getting into the shower on your own.
“Yeah, but I’m fine. I can hardly feel it.” You stood at the edge, out of the spray.
“Really?”
Instantly you turned around to face him. “Yes Damiano, I would never lie to you.”
He half-smiled when you laid your hand on his wrist. “I know, but I- it looks pretty scary.”
“Yeah, but it’s gonna- oh…” The water hitting your raw skin made you flinch, the wounds felt like they were swollen, already. You laughed in the face of this surprise. “Okay, I can feel that now.”
“Yeah, now you’re feeling that.” He said, the smile on his face wasn’t as authentic as you were used to.
You turned towards the stream of water, feeling refreshed as it splashed against your face. You could feel yourself coming back to reality. The stinging was getting to be unpleasant.
When you looked around, you found that he was still fully clothed. He had collected a glass from the counter and was crouched down. He let the glass fill with water then upended it over your rear-end. You held back the grimace as he tipped the water from the cup over-and-over, cleansing the area as gently as he could manage.
Once you had adjusted to this strange, prickling sensation, you checked back on him. He was concentrating on the task at hand, which wasn’t unusual - he always took aftercare seriously. But the level of concern still on his face was unusual.
You realised that he wasn’t enjoying looking upon these marks. He wasn’t treating you with the pride that typically came after you had taken a punishment. There was something troubling him, it was brewing beneath the surface and keeping him from relaxing, there was no chance of him getting turned on - the punishing hadn’t served as part of the foreplay. Instead, it had derailed your whole night and you were watching all of your expectations crumble.
“I’m gonna ask again and I’d love it if you could not deflect…” You said and he looked up. “Are you okay?”
“I…” He emptied the cup over your reddened cheeks again, then sat back. “I didn’t realise I was hitting you that hard.”
“It’s okay, neither did I. That’s why I wasn’t saying the safe word.” You said simply.
He nodded but he wasn’t meeting your eye as he sat out of the shower, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. “I’ve never- that was my first time caning…”
Under different circumstances, you would have smiled, your stomach would be filled with warm butterflies - you knew it. Finally, you had claimed one of his firsts, it should have been cause for delight, for pride. But that was so far removed from this moment.
You needed to find another way to connect with him in the aftermath of this significant occurrence. You turned the shower off, beginning your efforts to end this separation between the two of you.
“I should’ve done more research, I really didn’t think I was gonna cut your skin open. And that’s not what I was trying to do, I promise.” He said, standing up to grab a towel for you. “I was trying to hit in different places.” He wrapped the towel around your shoulders. “And when the first cut happened, I straight away made myself go easier. But then another cut happened and I just- I really wasn’t ready to see you bleeding.”
His hands went to your hair, gently pushing it away from your face while you settled your own hands upon his chest, seeking the comfort of his body heat. “Sixteen was definitely overkill. Probably eight would have been too many, but I just didn’t want to waste your time with anything half-ass-... um, bad choice of words.”
“You could never waste my time.” You said. “Well, maybe when you start banging on about Lord of the Rings…”
His jaw dropped in a look of exaggerated shock. “You asked me to pick the movie that night, I was trying to prepare you for what you were getting into. You needed to know that the first isn’t the best, but it-”
You silenced him by grabbing him and kissing his lips. “I’m teasing you.” His eyes narrowed in mock-betrayal. “I’m just teasing.” You kissed him a couple more times as you linked your arms around his middle. “Just teasing and having fun, which is what this whole dynamic is supposed to be about, right? It’s all about play. Unless I’m mistaken…”
“You’re right, you’re right.”
“It’s not really fun for me, if you aren’t having any fun. So maybe the rule of the safe word should reach to include you as well. I mean, that way we can shift away from things as soon as you start enjoying them less. I dunno, it’s just a thought that I had…”
“It’s a great idea.” He said, giving you a quick kiss on the mouth. “Okay, we covered me, but how are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”
“Could you make me a cup of tea, please?”
He physically deflated, shoulders slumping. “Can I say pumpkin right now, to get out of that?”
He didn’t follow through on this threat, soon leaving you to your own devices to find some clean clothes. You were relieved to step into a pair of dry panties and, to cover your torso, you grabbed one of his T-shirts. By the time he returned to the bedroom, a cup of tea in each hand, you had found a comfortable position to lie in - avoiding putting any pressure on the tender spot.
“How do you feel?” He asked, climbing into the bed next to you.
You smiled as you accepted the mug from him. “Better now.”
He set aside his own tea for the moment, instead placing all of his attention on you. His eyes looked over your face carefully as he gave your hair a soothing pat. “I probably shouldn’t offer to kiss it better- saliva on a new cut, it doesn’t seem to be the most hygienic idea, huh?”
Before taking even one sip of your beverage, you freed up both of your hands by placing the mug on the bedside table. You put one hand to the back of his neck as you sat up a little. “How ‘bout you just kiss me better?”
He smiled as he leaned in closer, allowing you to kiss him. You put your arms around him, drawing him in for a deeper kiss. You could no longer smell the sweet, steaming tea as you gave into this thorough rhythm. You rolled your bottom lip between both of his and his hands went to your back, clearly trying to avoid touching upon your injured ass.
But you were less interested in being so cautious, you just wanted to indulge in his body. You weren’t feeling enough of his embrace yet. You arched your back, lifting one of your legs to place it over his lap.
Your chest was pressed flush to his as he wrapped his arms around you. You were thrilled to be so close and allowed to feel how his body reacted to yours. You broke the kiss, finding that his eyes didn’t immediately open, which allowed you a moment to survey his face - with his eyes shut, he didn’t know that you were watching. It wasn’t about wearing the expression he thought you would want to see, instead you could see the genuine change across his features.
You no longer saw someone filled with a disproportionate amount of concern, and possibly guilt. Now you were just looking at your boyfriend and it was a relief to see him relaxed.
“I love you.”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I love you too. Do you still need some kisses to make you better?”
You pecked him quickly on the lips, pulling away to evade any attempts at deepening this kiss. “Some?” Before his eyes could fully open, you moved in to hit him with the surprise attack of a pair of chaste kisses. “Oh, babe…” You put your hands to either side of his face, quickly applying a few more kisses to his lips. “I need so much more than just some…” You felt him squirm under you as you peppered his mouth with increasingly enthusiastic kisses. “I need lots and lots and lots…” With every teasing kiss that you left on his lips, you were experiencing more difficulty in pulling back - gradually, you were losing interest in holding back. “Lots of kisses from my daddy.”
“That sounds like a lot.” He said, licking his lips as he went on smiling. “But I think that’s something I can organise for you.” This time, it was him initiating the next kiss. But he was withdrawing before you could fully sink in - because, in typical Damiano fashion, he still had more that he wanted to say. “How about you lay back and get comfortable and I’ll see what I can do for my good kitty?”
You moved out of his embrace, shifting to lie down in your earlier position, on your side of the bed. “Now, when you say get comfortable, did you really mean to say get naked or…” You got your answer before your sentence needed to be completed.
He had secured the bottom of his sweater in his hands, lifting it up and you quickly made to copy this. You were ditching your shirt off of the side of the bed while he got up to shed his jeans. In the process of losing all of his layers of clothing, he had grabbed a condom before joining you on the bed. He laid down in front of you, kicking the covers out of his way.
Facing one another, it was you who initiated the next kiss, because you simply couldn’t wait any longer. You had been holding back for too long, you needed to reconnect with him.
He slid his arms around you and you let your lips part, sinking fully into the heat of him. Skin pressed to bare skin and you were soon tasting him. There was nothing between the two of you - this was how you had wanted to be all day.
Neither of you had to speak, your limbs moving in something like muscle memory. He knew that a combination of his tongue massaging at the roof of your mouth, while his fingers kneaded at the small of your back, was enough to make you melt. You knew that to lift your leg and drape it over his hip, this would allow you to press your pelvis into his, which would bring about a reaction quite opposite to melting.
You propped your knee up on his hip, with him placing a hand over this, straight away aiming to keep you here. Your thighs parted, you could feel your wet heat spreading, eager to coat him and have him inside. Rocking your hips forward a little, you felt his length and how hard he was.
You leaned away from his lips, running your hand across his cheek as you did so. Your eyes fluttered open, your heart swelling with giddy glee when you found he was already looking at you. You bit into your lip, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you.”
“Just hearing that, it reminded me of something I’ve gotta tell you. But it’s a secret, so you gotta come closer.” He said and it seemed like he was suggesting the impossible, at first. But you readjusted how you were holding your arms and succeeded in snuggling up closer, even more of your skin pressed to his. The two of you were becoming a true tangle of limbs.
He lifted his head from the pillow, his lips coming to your cheek. The smile that you wore, grew as he left a line of kisses across your skin, until he had reached your ear. Here, he whispered to you four words - which caused an immediate reaction, filling your stomach with butterflies, as if you had never heard him say it before, as if you hadn’t been expecting to hear it. “I love you too.
“What do you say- can you forgive me for being so mean to that perfect tushy of yours?”
“I can’t say with complete certainty yet.” You said in a falsely pensive tone. “You should probably ask me later, ‘cause right now, I’m still owed a lot more kisses.”
He pulled back, looking into your eyes and it felt like he was holding your leg firmer. “I was thinking you would get more than kisses…” Your smile broadened again as his hips grinded against yours and instinctively, you tilted your pelvis. “A lot more.” HIs hands had slid down your back, now guiding you lower and closer, until you could feel the stiffness of his cock pressed against your labia majora. “If you would like, my little kitty.”
“Yes.” With your throat clenching, it was difficult to get your voice above a whisper. Your anticipation was threatening to overflow and you weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to concentrate on your fingers that were playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes, please.”
You followed the guidance of his hands, until your entrance was lined up with the crown of his dick. Smoothly, he raised his hips, pressing against you, then pressing into you. As he slowly became buried inside of you, your fingers curled up into a fist around his hair. “Oh yes.” You arched your back, bringing him in deeper between your quivering walls. “Fuck yes, Daddy.”
He wasn’t rushing to get in all the way to the base of his shaft, instead it was a slow penetration, with him letting you feel him inch-by-inch. You were beginning to feel like you were floating, already flying high on all of the tingles radiating through your body.
All of the strength left in your body was dedicated to clinging to him, you needed him to anchor you through this flurry of big emotions. You wrapped your leg so tightly around his waist, his hips edging closer to yours. As you were filled even more, both of your hands sought to hold him in a tight grip that saw your nails digging into his skin a bit.
Your head slumped back as the tension built to a new height inside of you. You were so desperate that you were practically aching and this led you to immediately pushing back against the first few rocks from his hips. He moaned and began to cover your throat in kisses.
Between the two of you, a slow and sensuous pace was set into. Long strokes allowed you to determine where your most sensitive areas were lying, waiting to be discovered. He followed each shift as you made it, his need for control sacrificed in order to stay between your clenching walls.
You gasped aloud, filled with such intense excitement when you felt his shaft against your sweet spot. You had found the ideal angle, feeling your toes curl as you drove yourself down again-and-again. All of your focus moved to this area and the incredible stimulations that his body was awakening.
In comparison, what you had been building to with your vibrator was just a whisper. Now you were standing in a storm of powerful elements - ready to fall victim to all of it.
This angle provided an improvement for him as well and you could feel him making use of the extra mobility now allowed to him. The way that he was plunging into you was quickening. He had swung out of aftercare mode, his focus placed purely upon pleasure. You looked down and at once you could see the fiery passion burning in his eyes. Seeing this made you want to go limp and your cunt spasmed with the all-consuming need you could now feel.
Every reaction played out across his face and you wanted to see all of it - you wanted to view the exact moment when he got lost in the climax. You put your hand into his hair, holding his head back so that you didn't miss a single second of this. You were obsessed to see every affect your body was having on him.
“Are you my kitten?” He asked through laboured breaths.
“Yuh-yes, yes I am.”
His hand went to your cheek, holding your face at this current position, where your eyes could meet. “My perfect kitten- the most beautiful- most gorgeous woman. And I love to…” His eyelids fluttered as a new look of effort took over his features. His breathing got to be so shallow that you weren’t sure if he would be able to carry on speaking.
But of course, he did. “This perfect pussy, I love fucking this absolutely perfect pussy. So, so, so tight, that I- ah.” Breaking the rhythm, his hips jerked into yours with such force that you were almost sent sprawling onto your back, almost thrown entirely off balance. But in the next moment, you were determinedly working into him, pushing him closer to that edge. “God, you just make me come every fucking time.” He laughed briefly, sounding like he was in a state of disbelief.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me with this incredible pussy. Is- oh, is that what you want?”
You gripped at his hair as you did your best to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts. “Yes.”
There wasn’t any opportunity for you to sync your climax to his because his release came upon him quicker than you could prepare for. His eyes squeezed shut as he moved into a reckless and ruthless rhythm. You watched in amazement, your own pleasure swelling and creating an uncontrollable shake through your leg.
He cried out in response to his orgasm, drawing out the last of these sensations with a handful of stilted, yet powerful spasms into you. Then he was still and silent, aside from the audible struggle to catch his breath. Your body reeled, trembling all over as you tried to digest what you had just seen.
Twitches rattled through you at the feeling of him still throbbing inside of you. You were soon flinching, unable to keep yourself from grinding into him. The need was still so present inside of you and the rhythm was waiting to be tapped into again.
“My babygirl wants more?” He looked up at you, smiling knowingly.
“More.” You croaked, slowly thrusting to drag him across your sweet spot again. “Please, more Daddy.”
He let you take the lead, to work more out of this angle. You hadn’t gotten all that you could from this - you were confident that there was more pleasure for you to taste.
Your muscles clenched and spasmed, as you surrendered over even more of your control. You were becoming a thoughtless, shivering mess. But you didn’t need to think or plan - your body was set into the impulses, your movements coming from the pull of your instincts.
Everything else was guided by him, his arms holding your jittery body steady. He knew what you needed, he knew how to be there for you until you were convulsing, your mouth hanging agape.
You were getting lost in all of the intensity, shutting your eyes didn’t help you anchor yourself. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you could see little balls of electricity, hung up like a constellation of stars. With each movement from him, you saw the bright sparks pulsating and they were shedding glitter. This glitter manifested itself as tingles all over you, your sensitivities stretching far and wide.
You were overwhelmed in a way that the fantasy had been lacking. He was touching upon all of your senses as you became weaker. You were watching the imaginary stars burst, dissolving away and you were dissolving as well.
Your hand in his hair became a tight fist as all of the muscles in your body clenched, your limbs getting a new rigidity and you were floored, falling into a state of bliss. He followed you into this motionless lull, resting his face into your neck and just holding you. You heard him whispering praises as you tried to come back to reality.
The aftershocks rattled through your nervous system, stealing your breath. Each time, they pulled you away from regaining your composure. You flinched and writhed against him as random peaks struck, drawing hisses from him.
Your cunt felt swollen as you finally gained enough strength to pull away. You felt a tenderness in your limbs as you detangled your body from his. You slumped onto your side, a sweaty and breathless mess. You could hardly open your eyes, but you smiled when you felt his fingers on your brow, gently pushing your hair off of your face.
“How do you feel? I- oh shit, we had tea. I totally forgot. Should I reheat them?”
This was the incentive that you needed to open your eyes - looking to locate what you wanted to grab. Your hands latched onto his forearm. “No, nope. I don’t want tea anymore, I want cuddles.”
“Great. Actually, that’s perfect because that means I don’t have to get up.” He said, wrapping his arms around you again. You rested your head on his chest, the soothing way that he ran his fingers all over your back had you feeling ready to fall asleep. “If cuddles are what my baby wants…” He patted down across your lower back. “Then cuddles-”
You had held your breath when you felt his hand getting a bit too close to your ass. You flinched when contact was mistakenly made. But it was him who winced and made the immediate move to take his hand away from the area.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, oh fuck.” The atmosphere in the room had drastically changed as the inflamed area began to sting with fresh irritation. “Did I- shit, I hurt you again, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine, it’s absolutely fine. It’s just like- well, it kinda feels like you woke it up. But it really doesn’t feel that bad. I’m sure it’s not even bleeding anymore.” You said, finding that it didn’t hurt enough to dominate all of your thoughts.
“Could I have a look and check on it?”
You pulled away from him slightly. “Not if you’re gonna freak out about it.”
But you didn’t have any blankets to hide under and he was already sitting up, turned towards you. “Please, baby.”
You clenched your jaw and dropped your eyes, unable to bear seeing the look of guilt on his face. You rolled over onto your stomach, feeling the heat across your wounded butt, even though he wasn’t touching you there.
“It isn’t bleeding, you’re right. But- fuck.” He said. “I really don’t like the thought that I’ve done lasting damage to you. I wish I could take it back, it-”
You rolled off of your tummy and bent your left leg, presenting your knee to him. “You see this? I slipped and fell, ‘cause my clumsy-ass thought it would be a good idea to go rock climbing.” You traced the pale line off of your kneecap, across your shin.
You extended your arm out and pointed to a thick, pink stripe that marked just above the crease of your inner-elbow. “You see that? That’s why my drunk-ass should be given access to UberEats, not an oven. We got home from a very long night at the club and I got it in my head that that was the perfect time for some tater tots.
“Everything was going fine until it was time for them to come out of the oven. I don’t really remember exactly how it happened, like I said, long night. And being the drunk mess I was, I misjudged the correct way to hold the baking tray and I let it hit against my skin, right here.”
“So we’ll just keep it that I’m the one who does all the cooking. You know that I don’t mind.” He said.
You returned his attention to your legs, this time the right, pointing to a long-since healed scar on your thigh. “Do you see this? At my first job, working in a hardware shop, unpacking and cutting up boxes- a safety knife turned out to not be so safe. I learnt the hard and bloody way that you don’t cut towards yourself- cut away from yourself, always cut away.”
“Right, I get it. If this does turn into a scar, it won’t be your first.” He said, nodding.
“Yeah, but…” You put your hand over where his was resting upon his knee. “All of those injuries were way worse, I cried over all of them. Including the one at work, so I’m crying in front of my co-workers, so add embarrassment to the pain, okay?
“I am not breakable, you don’t need to wrap me up in cotton, okay?” You said and he moved his hand until he could lace his fingers through yours. “I love you and that doesn’t change. The only thing that’s changed is now you know that your limits are just as significant as mine.”
“Would you have said the word if you knew you had started to bleed?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” You said genuinely. “I really don’t. But it’s happened, it’s over. Now, can you please lay down so we can cuddle all of that guilt out of you.”
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