“We have 15 minutes, babygirl, cock or tongue?” Brendon asks patiently, crawling onto the bed next to you.
You pout. “I have to choose?”
He nods. “You can have whatever you want when we get back from the bookstore, but I promised my girl Starbucks and books, and she’s going to get them.”
You widen your eyes pleadingly. “Can’t I get them after drawn-out oral foreplay followed by you taking me fast and hard from behind?” you whine, pawing between your thighs at the thought.
Brendon shakes his head. “No can do. I have a strict schedule planned for your day of spoiling, and if we don’t adhere, we'll run out of time and you’ll have no books and no tea and you’ll be sad.”
“Fine. You’re right,” you concede.
“So. Cock or tongue?”
You scratch Brendon’s scalp while you decide. “Well, if you fuck me, you’ll come too, and you’re always more generous freshly fucked.”
Brendon chuckles. “It’s never the money I’m worried about, my love, it’s finding room for all your books without making you donate any. When I’m all orgasm-hazy, I don’t think about that as much.”
You nibble on his ear lobe, trailing your flat hand down his chest. “My daddy, so generous,” you agree. You grasp his cock through the front of his sweatpants and make a triumphant noise at the feeling of him swelling under you. “That’s what I thought, pretty boy,” you murmured. “My daddy’s getting so thick and hard for his girl. You wanna fuck me? Bury your cock inside my throbbing cunt?” you ask, stroking him lightly.
“God, yes, need you, y/n,” Brendon moans.
“But,” you release him, and he whines, “I haven’t considered option two yet. Your fingers working deep inside me. Your tongue moving desperately on my clit because you love my taste. Coming hard on your face, claiming you as mine.”
Brendon’s face flushes and his pupils expand. “Fuck, love my messy girl. Love when you soak my face and hair with your perfect slickness. I’m all yours.”
“Your tongue is your speciality,” you muse. “Pussy’s your favorite food after all. You’re so enthusiastic, and you know all these little moves to drive me wild under you. But your cock is so perfect. So thick and so silky smooth. And always so fucking hard for me. Plus, love when you fill me up with your hot come. Talk about getting claimed, shit, you pulsing inside me while you give me everything you’ve got makes me feel like yours.”
Brendon’s jaw gets tense as he clenches his teeth hard.
“Mmm, and you can move those hips like nobody’s business,” you continue. “You’re always so in control. The exact speed, depth, angle. Everything. It’s amazing.”
Brendon growls. He straddles your lap, facing you. You whimper and attempt to nip at his firm bottom lip, but he places a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down gently onto the bed. “You need to pick, love. Or I’m picking for you,” he says roughly, pinning you down while you giggle. His pelvis is pressing firmly against you while you squirm, and the growing bulge in his pants is throbbing insistently on your thigh.
Your pussy clenches. You take his hand, guiding it into your panties. “I’m so fucking wet for you. You did this. Want you to be my best sir and clean it up for me please, daddy. Use your tongue and take care of me.”
Brendon sucks briefly on your neck. “Good girl,” he gasps, crawling down your body.
“Is my daddy going to touch himself while he works? Stroke his hard cock? Come all over my thighs when he’s done?”
Brendon mouths over your panties, his hot breath driving you wild. “I will if you won’t mind, babygirl. I know you like it when I focus on you.”
You whine, rubbing your drenched panties on his mouth. “I do. But I also like it when you feel good, daddy. Get yourself off. I’d do it, but we’re running short on time.”
Brendon grins, sliding your panties down your thighs before snaking one of his hands into his own underwear between his body and the bed. His hips jerk as he thrusts into his first and you bite your lip, stifling a moan. Brendon slips two fingers deep inside you, and shocks of pleasure shoot through your stomach from your core. “I know you would. My best girl. Takes care of me without even being asked.”
Brendon’s fingers feel massive inside you, they always do when he’s been away for a while. You can only imagine what his cock will feel like when you finally get it. “I want your tongue, daddy,” you moan.
He kisses your clit softly before suckling it into his mouth. You thrash and squeeze his head, reaching down to grab his hair. “Fuck. Brendon.”
“Baby, we’re running out of time,” Brendon gasps. “Need you to work with me. Need you to come.” He yanks his hand out of his pants to stroke your nipple with one hand while he frantically beckons inside you for you to come. “Be my easy slut. My wonderful girl.”
“Only easy for you,” you moan, and he licks and hot stripe up from your entrance. “Oh god. So fucking easy for you.”
“Need you to come too,” you whine. “Want to feel your come streaked across my thighs.”
Brendon nuzzles your cunt. “You’ll get me, baby. You’ll get my come, I promise.”
You tug on his hair gently. “Fuck me, daddy. Come inside me.”
Brendon crawls up the bed, thrusting into you quickly. “I will, my love. I’ll take good care of my girl.” He kisses you, and you lick his lips desperately.
“I love tasting myself on you, daddy,” you moan. You grasp the sheets, throwing your head back. “I’m so full,” you cry. You start to tighten around him, practically choking his cock with your pussy.
“Good girl,” Brendon praises. “Come for me. Come for me and I’ll come, sweet girl.”
You come, and Brendon releases into you at the same. You milk his cock, snapping around him. “Give me everything you’ve got,” you beg.
Brendon slumps on top of you, and you suck a dark mark onto his neck. He groans and you feel another rush of heat as his cock pulses more come inside you.
“I have a feeling we’ll need to get another bookshelf after today,” Brendon jokes weakly.
You run your hand through his hair, laughing. “I’ll behave myself, don’t worry, daddy. I won’t take advantage of your vulnerable state… too much advantage anyway.”
Ready to Leap (Chapter 13) (Alternate title; Hush Now, Baby)
AU with B as a band teacher and reader as an English teacher. Fluff and smut. Chapters 1-12 can be found on my Masterlist.
By request. You can read the full request here.
Brendon x reader. Warnings: language, sexual content, dom!B, spanking, edging, dirty talk, oral, fuck, any sexual warning you can think of, it probably applies here. Y’all kill me.
One caveat; I don’t do daddy kinks (I had a weird experience with the fiancé) so I’ve modified slightly. Don’t worry darlin, you’ll still get off.
Word count: 3.5k
-||-
He pulls into the driveway fast and the tires squeal a little. The entire drive has a been a tease; your hand on his dick and his hand is up your dress; you’ve been reminded how your panties are definitely still back on the floor of the bar bathroom while his fingers stroke you.
Before you can even unbuckle, he’s at your door and hauling you up into his arms, pressing you against the car and kissing you fiercely. “Want you,” he gasps, and you can feel him hard against you in the delta of your thighs. You moan into his mouth and his hands are tight on your hips, holding you still while he ruts against you.
“Bren, baby,” you whimper, clutching his shoulders. He pulls back to look at you and you feel yourself get even wetter. “Want you to be rough. Take me.”
He bites his lip and groans again, tugging you inside before throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal as he carries you upstairs and drops you on his bed. “Tell me if it’s too much, if I go too far, okay?” He’s standing at the foot of the bed, eyes on you. His voice is soft but you can see the desire burning behind his gaze.
Shifting around, you slip off the bed and kneel in front of him. “Yes, sir.”
He rests a hand on top of your head and you preen, pressing into his touch. “That’s all you’re allowed to call me tonight, understand?” You nod and he smiles. “Such a good girl for me,” he sighs, and you reach up to undo his pants, unable to contain your own sigh of pleasure when his erection springs forth. “Gonna stay down on your knees, babygirl, suck me off?” He suggests, shedding his shirt and brushing your hair back behind your ear. You nod, taking him in your mouth and moaning around him. Slowly, you start to move on him, lips and tongue dragging across him, and you let him fall from your mouth with a giggle. Your lipstick is smeared across his cock and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Darlin, your mouth,” he sighs, leaning down to fix your lipstick with his thumb.
“Don’t bother fixing it sir, it’s only gonna get worse,” you whisper, licking your lips and taking him again. He inhales sharply and cups the back of your head, letting his hips rock forward. You nod enthusiastically, letting your jaw drop ever so slightly, giving him leeway to thrust freely.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps, watching his length disappear between your lips, the mauve stains of your lipstick deepening and smearing as you tighten your mouth around him with a happy moan. “God, babygirl, you look so good with my dick in your mouth. You gonna let me come in that pretty mouth?” You nod, pulling back and licking over him lightly, tongue swirling over his head while you stroke him with your hand. His head falls back and you swallow around him; he cries out when he hits the back of your throat and you just press further, moaning and whining around him. You curl your thumb and index finger around his base and squeeze, looking up at him and moaning again, letting your eyes flutter closed. “God, sweetheart, I’m gonna come,” he whispers and you nod, humming happily around him. The vibrations are what sets him off with a sharp cry; you feel him throbbing inside your mouth and then he’s coming, he’s down your throat and he’s coming and thrusting and you’re swallowing hard to keep up with him. When he finally stills, you pull back off of him with a satisfied smile, licking into the corners of your lips.
“Uh oh,” you sigh, using your index finger to swipe up a line of cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. “I didn’t swallow everything.” You give him that same wide-eyed innocent stare and he groans. “I should probably be punished, don’t you think?” Your tone is sugary sweet; he nods and moves to sit on the bed.
“Come here babygirl.” He pats his lap and you climb to your feet before perching on his lap. “No, lean over,” he corrects and shifts you so your body is perpendicular to his. “Pull this up,” he orders, tugging at your dress and you do, reaching back with one hand and wiggling roughly to get it up over your hips. “You didn’t swallow everything. How many do you think you deserve?” His palm is rubbing soft circles over your ass, fingers pressing and squeezing lightly every few seconds.
You consider, tipping your head to the side. “Probably ten. Do you want me to count, sir?”
He groans, squeezing firmly, almost testing you. “Yeah, honey. You're gonna count for me.” Before he starts, he slips his hand between your thighs and spreads you a little more for him over his lap. “If you want me to stop, tell me ‘red,’ okay? I will not stop for ‘stop,’ or ‘ouch,’ or even if you cry.” You shiver a little. He’s good at this. “If you really want me to stop, use ‘red.’ Do you understand?” You nod and he goes back to rubbing over you. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs before bringing his hand down on the curve of your ass. You inhale sharply and count. His hand comes down again, and like before, it isn’t particularly hard but it is swift and it stings the slightest bit - but in a good way. He moves on, his hand making contact at the place where your ass meets your thigh and you moan, rocking back into his hand. His fingers slip down and he feels how wet you really are before swatting you again, harder this time.
This continues, escalating, until your face is buried in his sheets, and you’re gasping, “ten, sir, that’s ten.” Your thighs are quivering and your voice is high and tight. He goes back to rubbing gentle circles, light enough to be soothing and he’s murmuring soft praise in your ear.
“Babygirl, you did so well, I’m so proud of you.” His words are warm and sweet and you practically purr, arching your back into his touch. “Let’s see how wet those spankings got you, shall we?” His hand is back between your legs and he sucks in a breath, stroking you. “So hot for me,” he groans, and you nod. “Let’s see if we can do something about that,” he whispers and carefully, he helps you to your feet. “Strip for me, darlin.”
Your hands are trembling a little as you reach for the zipper and slowly, you let each strap of your dress slip from your shoulders, exposing more of the swell of your breasts. “You want me naked, sir?” When he nods, leaning back slightly and stroking his cock, you shift your shoulders to push the dress further down. When it catches at your hips, you roll it down and hiss a little when the fabric grazes over your ass. Finally, it hits the floor and you’re in your bra and heels. He leans forward and catches you by the waist and hauls back into bed. “Sir,” you gasp and he kisses you hard, rolling on top of you.
“There’s a present for you in my pants pocket. Go get it babygirl.” Fortunately, he kicked his pants to the side of the bed and you can shove your hand down and grab them without moving out from under him. You rummage in the pockets and gasp a little when you pull out your underwear from earlier. “As if I’m going to leave your pretty lace panties on the floor for someone to find. Those are mine.” You nod weakly and he plucks them from your fingertips. “Hands up, darlin.” Unsure, you hold both hands above your head and he shifts behind you to wrap your panties around both wrists until you’re snugly bound. “Too tight?” You shake your head and he smiles. “Good. Lean back.” You obey and he runs a finger down between your breasts, down your stomach, and against your clit briefly. You gasp and rock your hips up, but he’s gone, pulling the belt out of his pants. He takes your bound hands and slips the belt under them and loops the belt buckle over his headboard, securing you there. “This okay?” And when you nod, he smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re comfortable?” You shift a little and nod again. “Good. You’re gonna be here for a while.”
And with those words, he drops down your body and spreads your legs, tongue sliding through your slick. He groans into your pussy and you squeal in pleasure, rocking your hips up. His tongue thrusts into you, lapping you up, while his finger circles around your clit - not actually touching, just teasing. You can already feel your wetness on his face, his movements are spreading it across your thighs and you moan, spreading your legs wider and arching into his mouth. Your nipples are so hard and he runs a hand up to tease them under your bra, licking you harder when you cry out in pleasure. “Sir, it feels so good!”
“Yeah darlin, let me hear you,” he rasps, feathering a kiss over your inner thigh. “Wanna hear how good I’m making my babygirl feel.” His tongue keeps teasing you and his finger is just circling, circling, circling and it’s all too much.
“Sir, please,” you cry and your walls must be trembling because he actually lets his finger brush your clit and you’re right there, “oh fuck, fuck, sir I’m gonna-“
He shoves himself away from your pussy, licking his lips. “I’m going to go get some water. Do you need anything, darlin?” You stare at him wordlessly, chest heaving. “No? Okay, I’ll be back.” He walks out of the room and you’re shaking, you were so close. When he comes back, a glass of water in hand, he sits in between your legs and runs two fingers up and down idly, smirking when you shiver. “How you doing, baby?”
You stare at him, still trembling. “Sir, I almost-“
“I know. You didn’t think I’d let the fun be over so quickly, did you?” He grins at you and you inhale sharply, desperate for contact. “Here honey, have some water.” Carefully, you wiggle up into a slightly elevated position and he gently tips the glass to your mouth. You swallow appreciatively, and he kisses your forehead before setting the glass on the nightstand. “Back down babygirl.”
You slide back down the bed and he settles between your legs, kissing your inner thighs. “So pretty,” he sighs, looking up at you through dark lashes as he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good,” he moans, running his tongue across you before cupping your ass in both hands and lifting you slightly to slide his tongue in deeper.
“Yes, oh god sir, your tongue feels so nice in me,” you whisper, rocking against his face. He murmurs something unintelligible and doubles down, tonguing you hard before sliding up to suck at your clit slightly. “Oh god, oh fuck-“ and he’s gone again, eyes heavy, watching your hips roll and buck against nothing. You let out a sharp, frustrated whine. “How many times are you going to do this?” You protest, spreading your thighs and rocking your hips towards him. “I need to come, sir.” Your voice is plaintive and desperate.
“You don’t need it yet. You want it,” Brendon corrects you, rubbing small circles on your hips.
“Yes sir, I want it. I want it so badly,” you whine and he flicks your thigh.
“Don’t whine babygirl. I’ll make you come, don’t worry.”
“Please,” you practically sob, and he leans over to kiss you lightly.
“No.”
He climbs off of the bed and stretches a little before crawling back over you and snuggling you as best he can with your arms bound above you. You try to slow your breathing, but his lips are on your shoulder, your neck, your breasts, and his fingers, fuck, his fingers are drawing little patterns on your stomach and you just want him so badly. He winks at you and slides two fingers in deep, groaning a little when you clench around him.
“Sir,” you whisper, and his eyes darken. You think his resolve is breaking. “Sir, please.”
His eyes run over you, arms above your head, legs spread, chest heaving. “How bad do you want it?”
“So badly,” you gasp. “I want to come for you so badly, want to show you how hot you make me, how worked up you get me, how much I love you, fuck, sir, please let me come so I can show you.” His fingers work harder, and he shifts down the bed so he can pull one of your legs around his shoulders. “Please, please sir.” You’re breathless now and he keeps thrusting his fingers.
He flicks his tongue against your clit and spreads his fingers a little, letting his tongue slip between them and slide deep into you before removing his fingers. He inverts his hand so his palm rests over your pelvis and his middle finger flies over your clit while his tongue circles deep inside you. Without warning, he presses his finger to your clit roughly and removes his tongue to cover you with his mouth and suck hard. You come undone and come hard, writhing on the bed under him as his tongue works you furiously.
“God, thank you, sir,” you cry, and he squeezes your thigh hard, tongue still collecting you, cleaning you.
“I love you babygirl.” He wipes a hand across his mouth and strokes his dick with it slowly. “And now I’m going to fuck you, okay?” You nod eagerly, biting your lip as he rocks into your slick wet heat. “Fuck darlin, you feel so good around my cock,” he moans, lifting one of your legs up over his hip.
“Sir,” you gasp in agreement, meeting his thrusts.
“I won’t tease you long,” he promises, shifting to his knees and raising your hips to meet his thrusts. At this angle, he’s filling you and rubbing against the perfect spot and you know you won't last long either.
You don’t know how you manage to hold on for as long as you do; you give the credit to him for keeping you focused on him, his eyes on yours, the way he keeps telling you how good you’re doing, how good you are, how beautiful you look taking him, the soft murmur of his voice hypnotic.
“Babygirl, I’m gonna come for you,” he groans and you whimper, your focus broken. “You gonna come for me, angel?” And you nod, biting your lip. “Good. Wanna feel you.” He leans over to suck roughly at your nipple, pinching the other lightly as he enters you from a higher angle, the length of his dick sliding over your clit and you shriek as loud as you can remember ever shrieking; you think you black out. Everything is white. White electric shocks coursing through you, white light blinding you, white heat spreading from your pussy down over him, and you can’t hear anything, just fuzzy white noise. You feel him come inside you, and you feel yourself go limp as he releases your hips and you want to speak, to thank him, to praise him, but everything is white.
His hands move up your body, sending more shocks through you and you gasp, trembling. You feel your arms tense as he works with the belt and then you go slack. “Hold on babygirl, I’ve got you.” You can hear again and his words are soft. He untangles your panties from your wrists and, massaging them and your shoulders gently, lowers them back into place and he takes your bra off. You moan softly, and he whispers soothing things before scooping you up in his arms, nuzzling your neck. “You did so good baby; I love you so much.”
He turns on the hot water and stands in the shower, still holding you in both of his arms. “You think you can stand?” You shake your head feebly and he laughs softly. “Okay baby, I’ve got you, hold onto me.”
You cling to him, arms sore, thighs bruised, both tangled around him. He stands with you under the hot water for a moment, letting the sweat and slick wash from your bodies. “Just a minute longer baby, you’re okay.” He's kissing your neck, one arm under your legs to support you, while the other smooths your hair back. “Can I move us, honey?”
You nod, letting your head fall forward onto his shoulder. Fuck, you’ve never come so hard. He’s taking you downstairs and suddenly you’re outside and he’s pressing you to him while he messes with something; you don’t have the energy to lift your head. There’s a roar of sound and you blink. “Here we go babygirl, it’s gonna be hot,” he cautions, and he’s climbing and you’re clinging and then he’s sitting, sinking and you open your eyes, confused.
Your throat is sore so your voice comes out raspy. “You never said you had a hot tub.”
He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You never asked. Figured it’d be a pleasant surprise.” You nod, slipping further into the water and letting him turn you so you’re cradled between his legs, back to his front. He turns slightly, grabbing a small bottle. “Lean forward honey.” You do and he’s filling his hands with something and then his hands, those fingers, they’re massaging your neck and shoulders and -“mandarin chamomile essential oils,” he tells you softly, using his thumbs to check your shoulders and neck for pulls or strains.
You moan, going limp in his hands and he kisses your temple, sliding his hands down your arms and gently massaging your wrists, turning and bending them. You don’t wince or gasp or cry out, just settle back into his chest.
“You feel okay, darlin?”
You nod, relishing his touch. Done with your wrists, satisfied you aren’t hurt, he moves his oil-slick hands down under the water to massage your bruised thighs. “I wasn’t too rough?” You shake your head, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Anything you want different next time? Assuming you want a next time?”
You turn slightly to kiss his cheek. “Brendon, it was great- incredible, really. There’s definitely going to be a next time.” You tell him, sighing happily.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself - I know I did,” he admits, going back to massaging your neck and shoulders. “Loved seeing you like that, begging for me, calling me sir,” he murmurs. “So sexy.”
“Mmmmm,” you agree, snuggling into his arms and closing your eyes again.
He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll be right back honey, give me about ten, maybe fifteen, minutes,” he promises and slips out of the water. “Don’t fall asleep without me.” You let your head fall back, just enjoying the heat and the jets. Sure enough, he’s back with two bottles of water and a plate of steak bites, medium. “You need to eat something, baby,” and his voice is soft. You nod and accept the water, letting him feed you bites of steak, sharing the plate until it’s clean and he sets it aside over the edge.
“I love you,” you whisper, and he whispers it back, fingers moving over your skin until both of you feel yourselves drifting off. “You take such good care of me,” you tell him, and he smiles.
“You’re my girlfriend, it’s my job to keep you safe and cared for. Let’s go inside honey,” he mumbles, and you stand a bit shakily as you both step out. He leans over to a shelf you hadn’t noticed before and passes you a fluffy bathrobe. He wraps you in it, tying it loosely, before putting on his own. “Ready for bed?”
You nod sleepily, and he leads you up the stairs where you both start to fall asleep promptly, on top of the covers, tangled in each other’s arms. He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I love you so much darlin.”
Smh I think tungle.hell ate my ask when I sent it, but... A concept: Dallon in a dress A better concept: Brendon domming Dallon while Dal’s in a dress An even better concept: Brendon AND Breezy domming Dallon while Dal’s in a dress
Smh I hate this app sometimes. Anyway, yes. Dallon in a sundress. Brendon and Breezy both taking turns at showing Dallon who he belongs too.
Warnings: Daddy kink, sir kink, dominance and submission (both inside and outside the context of sex,) punishments, conversations involving slight kink negotiation, dom/sub relationship with some implied offscreen negotiation, overstimulation, male masturbation, language, public foreplay
Proofreading, title, and many, many suggestions from @loverontheleft. She’s very talented and I deeply appreciate her contributions, especially the semi-colon she helped me with in the first scene, which I did not call her a nerd for because that would be so mean to someone's who's been so generous with their time.
“Sir,” you say nervously, walking into his studio.
Brendon turns around in his chair, face lit up to see you. “Angel,” he acknowledges. “To what do I owe this little surprise visit? I thought my pretty girl was taking a nap.”
You shake your head. “I was just pretending to sleep. I needed some time to think about something.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Awww, baby, you don’t have to pretend to be asleep to get some alone time. You could’ve just told me to leave you alone; I wouldn’t have been offended. Now, what were you thinking about? Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, voice soft, so he doesn’t spook you.
You nod. “Yes please, sir.”
He moves from his chair to the couch and pats the space next to him. “Sit down, baby, relax. You don’t need to be tense; it’s only me,” he soothes. You sit down on his lap, and he smiles, always happy to be used as your chair. “What’s on your mind, pretty?”
You stare at your lap, cheeks warm. “I was wondering if uh, well, I know you’re not really into this, so it’s okay if you don’t want, but uh.”
“Take a deep breath and then try to get it out,” Brendon suggests.
You take his advice. “I was wondering if you’d let me call you daddy,” you manage, but your voice still shakes.
“Oh,” he laughs, “that is not what I was expecting.”
You bring your hands to your face. “Nevermind.” You want to melt into the floor
“No, don’t be embarrassed.” He gently moves your hands from covering your face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed, that was terrible of me. I was just caught off-guard. Let’s talk about it. Why do you want to call me daddy?”
His voice is always comforting so it’s easier to bring yourself to talk about it. “Don’t get me wrong, I love calling you sir, but I just feel like ‘daddy’ suits our relationship a little better, you know?” He nods along as he listens. “It emphasizes the caring, nurturing side of you being my dom, the side we both like best, instead of the more controlling, powerful side,” you explain. “I love that side too, but, well, you order me to eat my breakfast way more than you order me to suck your cock.”
He chuckles knowingly. “To be fair, love, you love sucking my cock, and you do not love eating your breakfast,” you shrug coyly, conceding his point. “But, yes, I think I understand what you’re saying. ‘Daddy’ is almost warmer and more affectionate?”
You nod excitedly. “Yes, exactly. We wouldn’t be retiring ‘sir,’ you are my sir and love that, but I think ‘daddy’ would suit you. Of course, only if you’re willing.”
He pauses to consider. “You know I don’t love that title,” he says. You stare down at your lap, embarrassed to have brought it up at all. “But I didn’t think I liked domming at all until you convinced me to try small scenes, and now I can’t imagine a world where I’m not lucky enough to do this.”
You preen. “Mhm, I’m a perfect sub, I know.”
He kisses your cheek. “And so modest too,” he says sarcastically.
“Look, if I wasn’t a spoiled brat, you wouldn’t be able to discipline me, and you’d be out of a job. So I have to keep things exciting for you.”
“Very true, princess, I appreciate that. And, sure, I’m willing to try ‘daddy.’ As long as you just want the label changed; no behavior changes, right?” He strokes your cheek lightly. “I love you, and I’m willing to experiment, but I am absolutely not into age play or incest kinks or any of that.” He grimaces. “Those are hard boundaries.”
You shudder. “No behavior changes. I’ll call you daddy just like I call you sir, nothing deeper to it than that. Everything else stays the same.”
He kisses your forehead. “Sounds good.”
“Thank you, daddy.”
•••
Despite how long you’ve wanted to, you were nervous to start actually calling him daddy, but the more you do it, the more natural it feels. Unfortunately, there’s just one area you haven’t been able to experiment with. “I wanna call you daddy while I suck your dick,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow.
“How will you call me daddy if my dick is in your mouth?”
You sigh, exasperated. “Details, details. My point is that you’ve been boring and old by going to bed at nine every night, and I haven’t been able to call you daddy in bed yet.”
“Hey, I am not boring. You called me daddy when we were making the bed. That’s similar,” he points out. “I believe your exact words were, ‘Daddy, make the bed for me,’ and I told you no, but for some reason, I think I ended up making it alone anyway.”
“That is not the same, and you know it,” you argue. “Daddy, I want your cock.”
Brendon looks surprised at how bold you’re being. “Does my baby deserve my cock? Has she been good for daddy?”
“I’ve been so good, daddy. It’s been such a rough week, but I’ve been doing everything on my self-care list. I washed my hair twice, I ate three meals a day, I’ve been getting eight hours of sleep. You didn’t even have to remind me to do my breathing exercises when I got anxious over calling for Penny’s vet appointment,” you remind. You make your eyes wide and innocent.
Brendon melts. “You have been so good for me. Taking such good care of yourself, even when it’s hard. Don’t get me wrong, I love and relish the opportunity to take care of you, but I’m so proud of you for doing it yourself. Of course I have to give you whatever you want,” he praises. “But our reservations are in an hour, so you’ll have to wait until after dinner. Can you be patient for me?”
You pout but nod. “Yes, daddy. I can be patient.”
•••
“You can’t call me sir in public,” he reminds you as he pulls into the parking space. “Or daddy,” he tacks on, anticipating your question as soon as you open your mouth.
You pout. “What’s the point of leaving the house at all then, sir? We should’ve just stayed in bed.” You reach between his legs. “We can still turn around and go to bed.” You run two fingers along his shaft through his pants, and he pulses under you.
Brendon nudges your hand away. “Bad, princess,” he scolds. “Stop trying to get me worked up. We are going to be responsible adults who bother to leave our house to go out to dinner: you will not try to get me hard for you in the restaurant, and you will refer to me by my name.”
You sigh. “If I must, Brendon.” You make a face. “Calling you that feels unnatural.”
He kisses your cheek. “If my name feels unnatural, that’s probably something we should talk about, but I get the sense you’re being dramatic.”
“Hm, that does sound like me,” you agree.
“Either way, I’m sure you can get through an evening,” he says, giving you way too much credit.
He exits the car, and you wait patiently for him to get your door for you. Finally, he comes around to help you out of the car, knowing you’ll sit there waiting for him indefinitely because, as you like to say, you’re too perfect and special to get your own door. At least, that was your inside joke when you were dating, but now it’s just a habit for him to get you from the passenger seat. “Mm, my big strong manly man coming to get me. My hero,” you say, as always.
Brendon pulls you against his side affectionately, murmuring, “you’re damn right, baby.” He starts walking toward the restaurant, his firm hold on your waist forcing you to trudge along next to him. He greets the hostess for you, and she leads you to a private curved booth in the back. Anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to see you unless they were deliberately looking for you, and you feel like the universe is telling you to tease him.
He must be able to tell what you’re thinking; he shoots you a look that says “watch it, princess,” and slides far away from you in the booth. You’re wrestling between your desire to obey him and your desire to be a little brat when the waiter shows up, and the decision is pretty much made for you. He’s extremely good-looking, not nearly as good-looking as Brendon, but you’ve never seen someone as hot as your husband, so that’s a given. The waiter introduces himself, and you straighten, moving your arms closer together to push out your breasts in your low-cut dress. To the waiter’s credit, he keeps his eyes laser-focused on your face when he takes your drink order, but Brendon still picks up on your shift in body language immediately. He clears his throat, and the waiter turns to him, cheeks a little pink.
“Sorry, sir, I didn’t forget you. Your girlfriend-”
“Wife,” Brendon is quick to correct. He twists his wedding band with his thumb.
“Apologies. Your wife just had a lot of questions about the wine list. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water.” Brendon makes unflinching eye contact with you, and you shrink back; he’s dominating you with his eyes alone. You’re surprised he isn’t ordering the old-fashioned he’s been talking about all day, but figure he must be refraining because he’s driving. “And I’m ready to order too,” Brendon says. The waiter nods. “I’ll have the special, and my wife will have the crab cakes. Right, love?”
You nod. “Yes, please. Thank you, B.”
The waiter goes to get your drinks, and Brendon waits until he’s surely out of earshot to raise his eyebrows and drum his fingers slowly on the table. “What was that little interaction with the waiter, sweet girl?”
“Just being friendly,” you respond.
“Mhm, sure.”
The waiter comes back just a second later with your drinks, looking flustered. “So sorry, ma’am. We’re out of crab. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Oh no, that’s fine,” you reassure. “I’ll just have the pasta.”
“An excellent choice, and I’m so sorry again,” the waiter apologizes.
You lean forward toward him, ignoring Brendon’s warning glare. “It’s no problem. I can be flexible.” You drop your voice down to a sultry whisper, “I can be very flexible.” You wink.
The waiter smiles awkwardly and practically runs away after getting your new order.
“Princess,” Brendon warns.
“Yes, Brendon?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, keep my name out of that pretty mouth tonight. I’m daddy or sir from now on, got it?” He takes a long sip from his water, and it clicks. Your mouth goes dry. Brendon doesn’t ever drink if he knows he’ll be punishing you later. He has to keep a clear head and sharp reflexes in case something goes wrong. He’s not drinking water because he’s driving; he’s drinking water because you are in for it.
“Yes, daddy,” you say, excitedly wiggling in your seat.
Brendon puts a hand on your thigh under the table to indicate that you should stop moving. You still obediently. Brendon spots the waiter coming back and groans. “What does this bastard want now?”
“To do his job,” you answer.
Brendon slides around the booth and scoops you into his lap. “That’s fair. He’s not in the wrong here. My naughty girl is the one in trouble, isn’t she? She wanted my attention, and now she’s got it.”
The waiter gets to the table with your food, his eyes focused intensely on the wall. He places both plates in front of you along with the check, clearly wanting to limit his interactions with the both of you. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Do you want dessert, princess? If we order now, it’ll be out by the time we’re done eating, and we can get home earlier,” Brendon tells you.
“Yes please, daddy,” you respond, and the waiter’s eyes visibly widen.
“Two pieces of chocolate cake. To go,” Brendon orders, paying for the food and leaving several hundred dollar bills as a tip.
The waiter thanks him profusely before leaving to get your cake.
“Thank you,” you say to Brendon.
He kisses the back of your neck while you roll on his lap. “Of course, love, I could never deprive you of cake. I love spoiling you too much for my own good. But you can eat it after you’ve been punished.”
You sit in silence after that, Brendon eating and feeding you pieces of his own food. “How are you going to punish me, sir?” You finally dare to ask.
Brendon puts his fork down. “You get a boring punishment of my choice and a fun punishment of your choice,” he answers before glancing down at you to gauge your attitude. He sees you fidgeting anxiously. “You always talk a big game until you’re about to be punished, angel. Then the nerves come out,” he laughs. “You’ll be okay, pretty girl. I take care of you, don’t I?” He soothes.
You nod. “Such good care of me, sir. Mmm, gonna spank me? Remind me who owns me every time I sit down?”
He picks up his fork and gives you another bite to chew on while he talks. “You know I don’t own you, princess. If anything, you own my ass. I wake up worrying if you slept okay and go to sleep worrying about how your day went. But yes, if you’d like me to spank you, that’s your choice.”
He’s grasping your thigh with the hand not feeding you, and you’re having a hard time ignoring the lust pooling in your stomach. “What do you wanna do to me, sir? I know it’s up to me, but I would certainly not object to some suggestions.”
Brendon presses his warm lips to the back of your neck, and you shiver. “Funny how I changed from daddy to sir as soon as you knew for sure that you were in trouble. My baby knows when to be so submissive for me. Knows when she shouldn’t test me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You really wanna know how I would punish you, sweet girl?”
You nod cautiously.
“I’d tie your hands to the headboard, put your legs in the spreader bar, and then crank your rabbit up to its highest setting, pushing it deep inside you, and nestling it up against your clit,” he whispers against your neck.
You whimper, bearing down in his lap. His erection stirs under you. “And then what, sir? You gonna edge me for hours?”
His lips ghost back and forth against the back of your neck as he shakes his head. “Oh no, you’re not that lucky. You’d barrel towards your orgasm, and I’d let you come. But I’d still keep the vibe buzzing on you mercilessly, even after you’re utterly fucked and shaking from the stimulation,” he says. “Maybe I’d stroke your forehead soothingly, maybe I’d press the vibe harder against you, but I’d probably just sit back and watch the show.” His voice is deep and low.
You gasp, bring a hand up to your mouth. “That. I want that, sir.”
He nips at your shoulder. “If the princess insists.”
You slip off him to turn around and straddle his lap, facing him. “Yes, I insist. Please,” you beg, grinding on his now fully-hard cock through his pants. You’re so wet that you’re sure it’s soaking all the way through your panties onto his clothes.
Brendon bites his lip, putting a hand on each of your thighs and pushing you back on your heels. “Public, babygirl,” he scolds gently.
You’re forever in awe of his ability to stay so beautifully composed when you’ve long since been consumed by your arousal. Your hair is a mess, your makeup is smudged, your face is red and sweaty, but he looks as good as when you first left the house. You bring your hands between your thighs to rub against your panties, and Brendon grabs your wrists.
“Careful,” he warns, “I’ll take off my tie right now and bind your wrists in this restaurant if you can’t pull yourself together.”
You hang your head ashamed and slide off him, sitting on your hands so you won’t give into temptation. “Sorry, sir.”
“Just behave yourself from now on,” he orders. “Are you done eating? You’ve barely touched your food.”
You laugh at that, and he looks at you puzzled. “You’ve been feeding me your food. I’ve eaten more than you have,” you point out.
“Sorry, baby. It’s such second nature to feed you that it slipped my mind. But that’s good; your food will leave over better than mine anyway. And it’ll make a good recovery snack.”
You lean against Brendon, happy to let him figure out leftover logistics while all you have to do is look cute and follow his commands.
The waiter comes back with your cake, eyes plastered on the ceiling, and hands Brendon two extra to-go boxes. He tells you both to have a great evening, and the “please never come back here” is implied. You feel bad for accidentally dragging him into your sex life, so you urge Brendon to leave more cash on the table, and he obliges you easily.
“Are you ready to go home, baby?” He asks.
“Yes, please,” you say, and he slides out of the booth.
His pants are tight, and you can easily see his trapped erection when he stands up. He doesn’t make any moves to adjust or hide it, and a hot pulse of need runs through you. “That’s right, let them see how hard I am for my perfect girl,” he whispers when he notices where your eyes are drawn.
You whimper, “Home now, sir. Before I do something stupid in public.”
•••
“Not too tight?” He asks for the third time.
You don’t roll your eyes; you’d rather him be too thorough than not thorough enough, but your tone is still exasperated when you say, “Yes, sir.”
Brendon’s eyes scan your body. “You know what?” he muses.
“No, sir,” you answer, no clue where he’s going with this.
“I think I want you to call me daddy while you’re being punished. You were the one begging to call me daddy, you were the one making me mad on purpose, and now you get to see another side of daddy.”
Elation almost completely overtakes the nerves coiled in your stomach. “Oh yes, daddy,” you agree, excited that he’s getting more on-board with his new title.
He nods approvingly, moving down to lock your ankles into your spreader bar. He extends it so your feet are about shoulder-width apart. It’s not far enough to burn or feel uncomfortable, but you still feel exposed and vulnerable for him. Especially with the way you’re completely naked while he’s fully clothed. Your anxiety bubbles back up, but you know he takes such good care of you, so you let your excitement take control.
“Are you comfortable?” He checks.
You nod. Your arms are above your head, your legs are spread just far enough so they don’t burn, and your fluffy waterproof blanket is under you. You’re as comfortable as you can be in this position.
“Good. God, you’re gorgeous,” he says, stepping back to admire his work.
He turns on your vibrator and the sound of it ramping up through each of the settings makes you whine in anticipation. “You know your safewords?” He asks.
You nod. “It’s the traffic light system we’ve used for years. I know it.”
“I know you know it, love. I just need to make sure you know it when you’ve been tortured for an hour,” he explains. “I’m only stopping if you use your safeword or if I think you’ve been pushed too far. Not if you just tell me to stop. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
Brendon runs the vibe against you, and it’s already intense enough to make you shy away from the sensation. Then, he slowly pushes it inside you, making sure it’s perfectly angled on your g-spot and clit.
“BRENDON,” you scream, squirming.
“Daddy,” he corrects sharply, swatting your thigh.
The pleasure is unbearable. You try in vain to force your legs together.
He sits down in the armchair next to your bed, leaning forward casually and resting his head on hand, almost looking bored. “Those moans are so pretty, princess.”
You cry out loudly, the relentless stimulation already too much. The vibrations are so intense that you can practically feel them in your teeth. You feel yourself about to come, but you can barely put your thoughts in order enough to choke out the words. “Daddy,” is all you manage, but Brendon understands what you’re trying to say.
He leans back in his chair. “Is my pretty girl close to coming already?” He asks. “Gonna make a mess all over your blanket?”
You scream as your orgasm overtakes you, the crest of pleasure lasting easily thirty seconds longer than it usually does. You writhe violently. Your body doesn’t understand why the sensations aren’t stopping after you’ve finished coming, and the feeling on your oversensitive clit is bordering on painful.
“That’s one, baby,” Brendon says. His calm, practically apathetic tone is a stark contrast to how intense and frenzied you feel. “Can you get to ten?”
“Ten?!” You shriek.
He nods. “Ten,” he confirms. “Unless you don’t think you can do that for me…”
You pant, catching your breath. “I can, daddy. I can get to ten for you.”
•••
“Oh god, I can’t. I can’t do this,” you cry, feeling your fifth orgasm ramping up.
Brendon runs his thumb across your sweat-drenched temple. “You can,” he says firmly. “You’ve come this far, just one more and you’re halfway done.”
You hiss. “I can’t.”
“Baby, if you actually want to stop just say ‘red’ or ‘yellow’ and I’ll stop or slow down,” he says, and sees your head shake aggressively, not wanting to safeword. “but you still have one ‘phone a daddy card’ to help you out. Do you want to use it?”
You’re not sure if he’s actually not making sense or if you’ve just lost the ability to process language after so long enduring the toy. “Daddy, what the fuck does that mean?”
“Use it and find out,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
You know you’re about to come, and anything he’ll do to ease you through it would be appreciated. “Fine, yes. I’d like to phone for help.”
He gets on the bed, placing a knee between your spread legs. He leans forward over you, his pelvis grinding on your hip next to the toy. He bundles your sweaty hair and moves it to one side of your head, kissing softly down your neck. “You’re doing so well for daddy. I almost wouldn’t be able to believe it, but you’re always so good for me.” Once he’s gone down the side of your neck, his mouth moves to your throat, his warm lips and comforting weight so soothing to your frenzied body. Orgasm number five rolls through you, and it almost feels nice compared to the rest of them. “Oh, yes, good girl, come for daddy so nicely. Getting my pants all wet with your slickness,” Brendon says softly.
Brendon stays on top of you for another few minutes, letting your heart rate settle down under him before shifting back onto his knees. “Are you good, baby?” He ensures.
“As good as I can be like this,” you answer honestly, squirming hard against the bed.
“Good,” he says. He stares at you in silence, a little grin playing on his lips. “You slutty thing. You just came so gently and now you want it hard and fast, don’t you? Squirming for daddy’s cock. Can I have some fun with you? Play a little rougher?”
“Yes please, need it rougher. Push me harder. I can be so good for you.”
He grabs the toy, not moving it yet, just teasing you with his control over you. He leans forward, placing an urgent kiss to your lips. He tugs on your bottom lip and you whine for him to start fucking you. “God, my slutty, desperate girl. Love you.” He pulls out the toy and you get just a second of relief from the incessant vibrations before he pushes it back into you. He moves back. His position on the bed gives him better leverage, enabling him to fuck you from a whole new angle. His other hand is gripping his cock through his pants, clearly struggling not to jerk himself.
The change in sensation is nice, but it’s still affecting you more than the simple buzzing. “You’re so hard, daddy. Felt you grinding against me and see you now. That must be so uncomfortable. You should touch yourself,” you try, wanting to see him as worked up for you as you are for him.
“Oh don’t worry, I plan on it,” he chuckles. “But daddy can wait, babygirl. Watching your sweet cunt take this toy so good is way more satisfying than my hand on my dick. Just doing this until you come for me one more time and then I’ll sit back and be a polite audience.”
He starts to roughly move the hand grasping his cock anyway, giving into the desire for stimulation. You make a frustrated sound in the back of your throat. “It is not fair that I have to watch you tease yourself and feel you torture me at the same time,” you whine.
His nostrils flare. “I’m starting to think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he warns. You’re about to object when he pushes the toy in deeper, twisting it back and forth so it rubs right on your clit.
“You are, daddy,” you shriek and start to come, your most extreme orgasm yet. “You’re in charge,” you gasp through the aftershocks.
“You’re damn right, princess.” He pauses as you catch your breath, mercifully pulling the toy out for a few seconds. His face softens. “Are you okay, y/n? You can tap out right now if you need. No judgment, no questions asked. Ten is a lot; you can tell me if I’m being unreasonable.”
You close your eyes, still panting before shaking your head. “Nope. Love it. Love you controlling me. Just need a brief intermission. Like I just said, you’re in charge.”
“If you’re sure, love. Take your time.”
You take another minute before giving him the go-ahead. He thrusts the toy into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to its girth again before turning it back on. You count the clicks and know he doesn’t go back up to the highest setting, just the second highest. You look at him with a face full of gratitude, and he winks at you, letting you know he’s always taking care of you.
Even with the slightly lower setting, the vibrations on your tired body are near-agonizing. “Remind me why we’re doing this again.”
“It’s called crime and punishment, my dear.”
•••
Tears stream down your face. Your contractions around the toy are sharp and painful. Your hips arch off the bed, and you grasp the headboard as you come for the ninth time, screaming loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Good girl. I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well for me. Taking this so well. My perfect girl,” Brendon whispers next to your ear. “Just one more. Less than twenty minutes, and you’ll be in the bath with me, letting me feed you pasta.”
“That sounds nice, daddy.”
“I know, love.” He kisses your forehead.
He settles back down in his chair and leans back. He slowly unbuckles his belt, and you brace yourself for the sight of his flushed cock. He finally unzips his pants and pulls himself out. Even with the overwhelming sensations already tormenting you, a wave of heat goes through you when he starts touching himself. His mouth is slack, and his eyes are focused on you convulsing on the bed. You close your eyes at the sight, unable to withstand the added stimulation from watching him get off.
“Eyes on me,” he orders, and you have to obey. He’s leaking like crazy, his composure finally wavering as the arousal from the whole night catches up to him. “I want you to see what you do to me.”
“I can see, daddy,” you moan.
Brendon strokes himself quickly along with your moans. “I wanna come together with you for your last time.” He groans loudly, and you so badly want to touch him. If you weren’t tied up, you’d get on your knees to blow him, even with the toy still buzzing on you.
You use the movement of your hips to rub against the toy, willingly handing yourself over to the extreme feelings to get to the end faster. “Are you going to come soon?”
“God, I’m right there whenever you’re ready, baby.”
“Coming for you, daddy,” you choke out, and he comes with you, taking only a second to relish in the afterglow before tucking himself away and quickly standing up to pull out the toy.
Brendon switches off the toy and places it on the nightstand to clean later. Then, he unties your hands and unclasps your ankles.
You stretch out across the bed, relishing the satisfying burn in your arms and legs after so much time in one position. Brendon watches over you, awe evident on his face. You moan, loving the new freedom, before you relax your limbs completely and go limp; your only movement is the slight shaking from the intensity of your last orgasm.
“Oh no, baby, you’re shivering. Are you okay? Do you feel exposed? Is it okay if I touch you?” Brendon worries aloud.
You stretch your hand out, needing him to touch you. “I’m good- not shivering, just still trembling from coming so hard for you,” you reassure. “Please touch me, daddy. I’m okay. I love it when you touch me.”
He scoops you into his arms, kissing all over your face, and you burrow into his arms. “Good, I was worried. I knew it was a hard punishment, but I didn’t think I’d pushed you too far. You know I would’ve scolded you for not using your safewords. You don’t want to disappoint daddy.”
“Daddy, please, you know damn well I’d safeword in a heartbeat. I only go along with my punishments because I need your praise; I’m a spoiled brat, not a masochist.”
He laughs. “Of course, baby. You’re so good for me. I never have to worry that you won’t speak up. Makes it so much easier to dom you. My perfect sub.”
“Mmm, thank you, daddy.” You cling to him while he carries you into the bathroom. He turns on the hot water and adds your favorite bath beads before sliding down onto the floor to hold you in his lap while the tub fills. You purr happily when he plays with your hair and murmurs that you’re his best girl. “Baby, can you test the temperature of the water for me?” He asks when it nears the top of the tub.
He helps to lift and guide your hand into the warm water. It’s bordering on uncomfortably hot, which is just how you like it. “It feels nice,” you say.
“It feels scalding,” he corrects with a laugh, “but I know that’s your ideal bath, so I’ll allow it for being so good for me.”
Brendon stands up with you still in his arms and lowers you into the water carefully. You settle back, letting yourself melt into the hot water. He gets on his knees next to the tub, filling up a pitcher with warm water to wash your hair.
“You’re not getting in here with me, daddy?” You pout.
“Head back,” he tells you, and you obey. He pours the water over your head, and you moan softly at how nice it feels. “I will if you really want, sweet girl, but I have to wash the sheets and heat up your food still, and that’s easier if I’m not all wet. Plus,” he laughs, a little embarrassed, “I did not just come ten times like you did. I’ll definitely get worked up being so near you, and that is not what you need after two hours of overstimulation.”
“Mmm, always love your cock, but you’re right, that would be too much,” you admit.
He kisses your cheek before massaging shampoo through your hair. “How about this, tomorrow you can go down on me instead of your boring punishment?” He offers. “Only if you want, though,” he quickly adds.
You nod excitedly. “Yes, I want that. I might sleep until noon, but as soon as I wake up, I want your dick in my mouth.”
Brendon fills the pitcher up with water again and rinses the shampoo from your hair. “That’s fine, baby. Sleep in as late as you want. You’ve earned it. Your boring punishment was going to be cleaning the kitchen, so I can do that while you’re having wet dreams about me all morning,” he jokes.
You yawn. “I’m so tired, I’ll probably just dream about sleeping more, but sure, wet dreams, whatever helps your ego, daddy.”
You hand him the conditioner right next to you on the edge of the tub before he asks, and he thanks you. He works it into your hair slowly. “Remind me to tie your hair back next time. This is snarled from all the thrashing,” he tells you, working through your knots as gently as possible.
“There will be no next time,” you say firmly. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be nothing but a perfect angel from now on.”
“Mhm, I think you said that four days ago, and here you are now. Actually, you said that a week ago too. Oh you know what? I have it on video from the time before that.”
You twist back to glare at him. “Fine, okay, you’ve made your point, daddy. You’re a very strict disciplinarian.”
Brendon massages your neck and shoulders with your scented lotion while your conditioner soaks in. “Oh? That’s what it is? Me being harsh with your punishments? It couldn’t be you being my beautiful little brat?”
You gasp in mock-offense. “I’ve been nothing but the best sub in the world, and I can’t believe you have the audacity to imply otherwise.”
“So sorry, princess, my bad,” he apologizes, rubbing his thumb hard into the tense spot on your shoulder blades. “How could I forget?”
“Oh, that’s nice,” you moan. ”Fine, you’re forgiven.” You go entirely relaxed under his hands. “Thank you for taking care of me, daddy.”
“Of course, anything for my naughty love,” he says, and you hear the smile in his voice. “You can keep being as bratty as you want just as long as I can keep putting you in your place.”
“Anytime,” you readily agree. “Crime and punishment.”
Author's Note: I wasn't going to write anymore fics until the new year, but I couldn’t help myself soooo you're welcome. Merry Christmas. Also this has nothing to do with Christmas, I apologize.
“Fuck,” you mutter, smashing the keys of your laptop. You’ve been working on this project for hours, growing increasingly frustrated as you work.
Brendon strokes your outstretched calf soothingly. He’s been sitting next to you on the couch keeping you company. “Take a break, honey. You’ll feel better.”
“No, B, I’m okay. Just need to get through this one thing, and then we can go cuddle up,” you promise.
He makes a skeptical noise but goes back to texting without any further comment.
“Sorry, babe,” you tell Brendon. “I know you’d rather not be watching me work right now.”
Brendon puts his phone down. “Hey, look at me, love,” he says, and you look up from your laptop to make eye contact with him. “I love to be near you, even if you’re working. I just don’t like to see you so overworked,” he explains.
“I know, B,” you say, moving to kiss him before settling back to work. “I love you, baby. Just give me one more hour.”
•••
You run your fingers through your hair and grit your teeth, feeling like every step forward comes with two massive steps back.
“Break. Now, baby girl. I’m not asking anymore. I know you don’t like ruining your momentum, but you’ve hit a wall. Let’s have a snack and go on a walk, and then I bet you can knock the rest out in twenty minutes,” Brendon suggests.
“Brendon, I’m right at the end,” you explain impatiently, “I won’t be able to relax until it’s done.”
He sighs but shrugs in concession. “Okay, if you insist.”
•••
You hit the heel of your palm against your forehead, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s looking at you with concern and a bit of disappointment. “Nope, that’s it. You’re taking a break.” Brendon takes the laptop from you gently, making sure your work is saved before he slams it closed. He gets off the couch, standing in front of you. “Knees, baby,” he orders.
“Brendon-” you start to protest. His eyes bear into you silently, and you know you’ve made a mistake. You slide down onto your knees. “Yes, sir,” you obey.
Brendon pets the top of your head. “Good girl,” he praises you quietly before he undoes his jeans, letting them hang open. Your mouth waters. “Just to be clear, you are not being punished right now. If you tell me ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or even just look upset, I’ll stop. Not just for your safeword, although of course, I’ll stop for that too. Is that clear?” He asks. His voice is dripping with authority, and you have to strain not to lunge forward and pull him out to blow him. ”We’re doing this because you need a break, and my perfect little slut is not easily motivated by anything other than sir’s cock, is she?”
Your breathing gets heavier. “Love your cock. Especially filling my mouth. I know you love taking care of me, so I don’t often get it, but I love making you feel so good, sir.” You look up at him to see him smiling fondly back at you.
“Oh, I know. Love spoiling my dirty girl so much, I forget to let her spoil me too, but now I’m going to. Plus, selfishly, you look so good taking my cock in that hot, wet mouth,” Brendon says, voice gravelly.
“Sir,” you whimper, “I need you.”
Brendon pulls his cock out, and you suck it down greedily. He starts to swell and stiffen in your mouth immediately. You moan, loving the feeling of him hot and heavy on your tongue, and you slide forward easily. He groans, not expecting you to take him so deeply already. You suck on him hard, only using your hand to wrap around his base, letting you easily bob on him.
His hand is still playing with your hair like you love, and he’s murmuring praises constantly, telling you how good of a job you’re doing. You’re working on him enthusiastically, fueled by the praise. You move your hand off his cock to take him deeper; you relax and swallow him down far that your nose presses against his stomach.
“Holy shit, baby,” he gasps.
You take the hand you had wrapped around him and gently squeeze his balls, now tightly drawn up towards his body.
Brendon gasps, hips stuttering forward. You back off him so you don’t gag, and he apologizes profusely.
You wave him off, too focused on sucking on his sensitive head to pull off and reassure him verbally. You tongue at his slit, the taste of pre-cum quickly filling your mouth. You reach between your own legs to slide your panties to the side and play with your clit while you blow him. You usually ask first, but he’s so lost in his own lust that you doubt he’ll notice or care. You don't realize just how much his moans and gasps have been turning you on until you feel how wet you are for him.
He grasps your hair, not hurting you, but telling you he’s losing some control. “I need to come, baby girl,” he manages. You just swallow him deeper again, still not wanting to pull off, even at his warnings. “Soon,” he stresses anxiously.
You reluctantly take your fingers off your cunt to replace your mouth with your hand, your own wetness helping you stroke him. “Fuck, your hand, pretty girl. So tight and fast like I love. And so- oh god, is that your slickness coating your hand?”
You give him the wide, innocent eyes that always make him melt. “Yes, it is, sir; I took some initiative. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, no, I love my slutty girl,” he moans. He throbs hard in your hand.
“How do you want to come, sir? I’d prefer on me, but you know I love swallowing for you.”
He doesn’t take any time to think before saying, “Take your shirt off, gorgeous. Wanna come on those perfect tits. Do you know why?”
“Because I look so pretty covered in your come?” You answer, pulling your shirt off. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground in front of you.
Brendon’s eyes widen, and he bites his lip at the sight of your breasts, your nipples hard now that they’re exposed to the colder air of the room. He strokes himself desperately after your hand is gone; he seems content to finish himself off, so you go back to touching yourself. He smiles down at you affectionately, putting a hand under your chin to admire your face. “Well, yes, you do. But no, that’s not why. After I come on you, we get to go take a warm shower together to clean up, and I’ll let you come all over my fingers until you’re trembling and exhausted and unable to keep working.”
Your fingers slip deeper inside your soaked pussy. “Sir,” you whine, “I want that. And I want your come on me.”
“Good girl,” he praises as his head tips back and hot streaks of come of hit your face. You lick your lips greedily, and his spent cock twitches like he’s trying to get hard for you again. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, pretty girl,” he moans before he tucks his cock away, zipping his pants back up.
“Can you carry me to the shower, sir? Please,” you whine, fingers still moving on yourself.
He hesitates, still a little shaky after coming so hard. But he catches his breath and scoops you into his arms bridal-style, unable to resist doing whatever you want for you. “Fingers,” he requests when he sees how shiny your hand is, and you let him clean up your wet fingers with his tongue while he carries you.
Brendon makes a pleased noise. “I love tasting that pussy,” he says after he puts you down and you take your fingers out of his mouth.
“I know, sir,” you say distractedly, your mind preoccupied by visions of him getting you off.
“Y/n, you good, honey?” Brendon says, and it brings you back to reality.
You swallow, nodding. “Yeah, B, I’m here. I’m good. Just needy,” you assure, dropping the titles now that he’s not actively domming you.
He kisses your forehead. “I know, baby. You were so good for me. Now it’s your turn.”
•••
The hot water feels incredible after staying hunched over your computer for so long, but his hands rubbing shower gel on you feel even better. “Baby, don’t take this the wrong way, but when was the last time you took the time for a full shower? I’m pretty sure the top of your head has more dry shampoo than hair,” Brendon teases gently.
“I’ve been busy!” You protest while he massages your scalp with the soapy lather. He runs your hair under the spray of the shower before adding conditioner.
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Just relax. Let me take care of you,” Brendon soothes. When your hair is clean, he mouths up your neck from behind, his body pressed close to you. He brings a hand to your breast and massages it, stroking across your nipple with his thumb. Your knees buckle, and you slump back against him. “Good girl. Relax for me. I’ll make you feel so good,” he promises. He grabs the silicone lube from the side of the shower and applies a little to his fingers before putting his hand back on your breast and using his other hand to circle around your clit, not touching it yet.
“Don’t tease,” you whine, and he trails his hand down to rub at your opening with three fingers while he strokes across your clit with his thumb.
“Not teasing, love, just taking things slow and deliberate. Want you to feel worshipped and adored.” Brendon’s still kissing and nibbling your neck and massaging your breast when he slowly pushes his middle and ring finger inside you. You fall against him harder, using him to support almost your full weight. He’s so warm and solid behind you; you feel totally comfortable and safe with him holding you like this.
You cry out in pleasure. Brendon’s filling you up perfectly, making you feel so much better after being turned on for so long. You clench hard around his fingers. He bites down on your shoulder. You back up against his erection, heavy and trapped between your bodies, and his groan matches yours. “So turned on for me, B. You really do love making me feel good.”
He throbs against your ass. “We love getting each other off too much. We’re going to get caught in a cycle of fucking,” he jokes.
“There are worse things that could happ- oh god, oh fuck, deeper,” you practically shout. “Yes, yes, yes, right in that spot.”
You clench your thighs tightly together, not caring that you’re squishing his hand a little. He doesn’t seem to care either; he just rolls his cock against you, loving how wet and slippery you are against him. “You gonna come for me, pretty?”
“Yes,” you moan. You tip your head back onto his chest as you come, pulsing around his fingers. He praises you, encouraging you to relax and come for him. When you finally finish coming, he angles his body so that he can finish washing out your hair while you stay slumped against him.
He shuts off the water and puts your bathrobe on. “Let’s go to bed, baby girl. You can go back to work after a little nap.”
You yawn, legs shaking and eyes growing heavy. “That sounds good, Brendon. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Any time, princess.”
•••
Brendon glances at his phone after you close your computer to cuddle against him. “Fifteen minutes,” he says.
You look at him, confused. “Fifteen minutes for what?”
“It just took you fifteen minutes to finish the project that you would have worked on for another hour at least if you hadn’t taken a break,” he points out.
You roll your eyes. “Oh, hush. I will not learn from this experience.” He starts to protest, but you cut him off with a deep kiss. “Shh, don’t argue, just let me blow you when this happens again,” you say against his lips, and he laughs.
“Fine, princess, my dick and I can make that sacrifice,” he says, pinning your hands above your head on the bed. “Now, how about I reward you for all your hard work?”
Warnings: Daddy kink, sir kink, dominance and submission (both inside and outside the context of sex,) degradation, bondage, spanking, BDSM scene with safeword, conversations involving kink negotiation, dom/sub relationship with some implied offscreen negotiation, language
Thank you to @loverontheleft for her great help figuring out the plot to this fic and for her inspiring sexiness. 💕
Reader
“You and Kala go outside and drink wine and gossip. Zack and I will clean up,” Brendon sends you away, already grabbing your plate from in front of you to take to the kitchen.
“Are you sure, da- Brendon?” You ask, correcting yourself before calling him daddy. You and Brendon are open about your preferences to Zack and Kala, mostly because they’re as freaky as you two, but Brendon still doesn’t love you using any titles in front of anyone else. Those are just for you and him, he always reminds with a dreamy look in his eyes. “I don’t mind helping.”
“Yeah, c’mon, bro, that’s what subs are for,” Zack says, obviously teasing, but Brendon’s nostrils still flare as he shoots Zack a warning glare. Zack puts his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, should’ve known better than to imply anything about your lady,” he says, and Brendon disarms slightly.
“Well, yes, definitely that. Don’t demean my sub unless she consents,” he says, and you want to melt at how protective he is. “But also, what you said just isn’t true. Y/n will be the first to admit that I’m her bitch,” Brendon laughs.
“It’s true. I’m spoiled. Brendon does almost everything for me. But I suck his cock whenever he asks, so it’s a trade-off,” you shrug.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “That’s not because I’m her dom though. That’s just because she’s my gorgeous little cockslut,” he half-jokes affectionately and glances at you to make sure you’re okay with him saying that. You smile at him, happy with his accurate assessment. “I normally have to ask her not to suck me off because we have to be productive members of society.”
“Mmm, I do love your cock,” you sigh.
He stops to kiss the top of your head on his way to the kitchen. “I know, baby girl. Now, go outside to gossip with Kala about what an excellent lay I am,” he says. You start to protest again, offering to help, but his stern facial expression shuts you down. “Go have fun. Leave the men to do the hard work. Maybe I’ll reward you when our guests have left.” And the firm line of his mouth shifts to a suggestive smirk.
“Fine, you’ve twisted my arm. I’ll take the nice wine and my best friend and go talk about our hot husbands in the beautiful evening,” you sigh in concession, standing up.
“That’s my best girl,” he calls back over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold into the kitchen.
•••
“…so then his hands were like this,” Kala makes a fist with one hand and wraps her other hand around her throat, “and my mouth was like this,” she demonstrates before continuing her description, “bear in mind, the whole time he’s thrusting into me so hard I was worried he’d tear something- Y/n, dear god, if you open your eyes any wider, they’ll pop out of your head,” she interrupts herself while talking about the new position she and Zack tried out the night before.
You could blame the two glasses of wine for limiting your ability to control your facial expressions, but you’re pretty sure you’d look the same way if you were totally sober. “Sorry, Kala. I just,” you laugh, “I don’t think I knew the human body could do that. Oh, god, if Brendon tried that, I would have safeworded immediately. Hell, I would have safeworded as soon as he suggested that and had a few words with him.”
Kala shrugs. “Oh nah, we didn’t plan it out beforehand. Zack just asked if I was interested in trying something, and then we tried it,” she says casually, sipping her wine.
“Kala, are you okay? Blink twice if you’re in danger.”
She shakes her head quickly. “Oh no way, I love how rough he gets. God, and Zack loves it too. Calls me his favorite little fuck doll because he can do basically whatever he wants with me,” she says dreamily.
You look at her suspiciously. “I mean, as long as it’s all consensual, no judgment here. But if Brendon called me a fuck doll, he could expect divorce papers on his desk within 24 hours,” you try to joke, but it sounds a little flat to you. Your stomach has dropped anxiously. You love Brendon getting a little rough with you, but you wouldn’t let him do anything Kala’s been talking about. You hope he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out on the super hot kinky sub experience. He does so much for you; you don’t want him to wake up one morning and realize he’s not getting anything in return.
•••
Brendon
“Oh man, Kala is the perfect little slut for me. Does whatever I want; normally without me asking,” Zack tells Brendon as they settle into the living room. Brendon nods along silently, not really interested in commenting on someone else’s love life. “But I bet Y/n is the same way,” Zack tacks on.
Brendon makes a non-committal noise. “Yeah, we both love that I’m her full-time dom now.”
“That’s not really what I said,” Zack chuckles. “But oh, I see, your lips are sealed because you guys get really freaky. Kala rarely safewords or anything, but even she has her limits."
Brendon makes another vaguely agreeing noise, still treading lightly before he realizes what Zack said. “Wait- what? She never safewords? How do you know that she’s communicating with you properly?”
Zack shrugs. “I do a good job staying within her limits, I guess.”
“Huh,” Brendon says, worry seeping into his mind. You don’t feel like he’s crossing limits, do you? But he shakes most of it away, confident that you know he takes care of you. If you felt he was violating you, he’s sure you’d come to him about it. He’s pretty sure, at least. “We have different strategies then,” he says objectively.
•••
Reader
“Well, good morning,” he laughs a little, waking up the next morning. You’re grinding on his hip with your leg thrown across him, and your inner thigh is rubbing against his cock as you move. “What’s my needy girl thinking about?”
You shift up to kiss him, rubbing against him harder as you do. “I was thinking we should try something tonight.”
His eyelids flutter, and he groans. “More of this?” He asks hopefully.
“No, daddy,” you roll your eyes. “I was hoping we could try rope bondage and collars? I want you to fuck me while a collar digs into my neck and ropes chafe my wrists, reminding me I’m all yours. You could even degrade me a little; call me your whore.”
He places a hand on your back to still your movement on him. “Oh, I don’t know, love. That’s kind of intense, and I like to call you my whore affectionately, but I don’t see any benefit in degrading you unless you really want it.”
“I can handle intense, daddy,” You say defiantly. ”You love being all intense and possessive, especially in bed. As for calling me names, my pleasure always takes precedence during sex. That’s great for me, but don’t you ever just want to tell me to shut up and take your cock sometimes?”
Brendon looks scandalized. “No! Of course not! I would honestly be perfectly content if you never touched my dick again, baby girl. I get off on getting you off. Surely you know that by now.”
You kiss his cheek and rub his arm soothingly, assuring him that you know he loves taking care of you.
“Good. Had me worried there for a second. But I don’t know, love. It’s not a bad idea; I’m just worried it’s a little… unhealthy? I guess,” he says.
You sigh, frustrated at his reluctance. You intentionally picked things you thought he’d be into; you didn’t anticipate this much pushback. “Scenes and play are for safe exploration of experiences and emotions that we’d otherwise avoid or handle differently. This is a controlled environment with mutual trust,” you explain, even though you know none of this is news to him. “And I know you hold yourself back from your manly wolf instinct to pin me down and make sure you know I’m yours.”
That makes him smile. “I don’t have manly wolf instincts,” he protests, cracking up. “But yes, you’re right, there is a small, irrational part of me that wants you all to myself, princess. And there’s a bigger, more rational part of me that loves having sex with you. So, yes, I do like pinning you down and fucking you hard and gently reminding you that I’m the best you’ll ever have. And sure, I love when you’re tied up but still squirming for me, and when that collar with my name on it presses into you just a little, not choking you but reminding you you’re mine, and yeah, calling you my perfect slut, so full of awe while you’re making me feel so damn good…” he fantasizes. “Wait, what was I talking about?”
You both laugh, and you start grinding against him again. “See? You want to try it, daddy.”
Brendon thrusts against you, and you kiss him desperately. You suck at his bottom lip needily before resting your face on his shoulder to let him talk. “I think it’s a fun idea for me, but I’m still worried about you, love. Are you getting anything out of it?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. Rough sex with my husband and the knowledge that he loves me enough to ignite his-”
He places a finger against your lips. “Baby girl, you know I love you, but if you say ‘manly wolf instincts’ one more time, I’m leaving the bed,” he says, but his tone is playful.
You kiss his chin, telling him that you weren’t going to. You were, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“Okay, yes. We can try it,” Brendon finally caves. “But I want you to be my best girl and promise that you’ll communicate with me if you’re not enjoying yourself, okay?”
“I promise, daddy.”
“Good, baby girl. So proud of you,” he praises, and you moan at the words, shoving his pants down needily. He gets a hand around himself, and you put your hand over his to stop him. He shoots you a warning glance. “Hey, princess, remember I’m in charge.”
“Want you to fuck me now. Please,” you whine.
He kisses your forehead and puts each hand on your hips to guide you onto his erection. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
•••
“You’re sure I can’t use ribbons or silk or something softer to tie you up, baby? Or we have the satin ropes specifically for bondage?” He offers. “You’re too precious for these ropes. They look uncomfortable.” He ties your wrists together with the rough natural fiber ropes you picked out for him. You test the ropes, yanking your hands apart. The knot holds strong.
You shake your head. “Want you to see them rubbing against my wrists while I writhe as you fuck me, and then I want you to marvel at the red marks afterward for days.”
He crawls over you to kiss you, and you can already feel him getting hard against you. “If you’re sure, sweet girl. It’s ultimately up to you. And you’re right, I do like little reminders of how I’ve fucked you,” he admits.
He settles back, straddling you, and buckles your thin black collar around your neck. It’s less of a collar and more of a leather choker, but you painted the words “Brendon’s Girl” across the front, and he always looks so satisfied when you wear it that it serves its purpose. He runs a hand down the side of your face. “So pretty.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He raises his eyebrows at the title. “Is that what you want to call me during this scene? Not daddy?”
You falter. “I just think it’s hot sometimes. If you’d prefer something else-”
He shakes his head. “Call me whatever you like; I was just making sure I knew before we start,” he says, and you relax a bit. “Now, is everything good? You’re not uncomfortable?”
“I’m good, sir,” you answer, though the collar is a little too tight, and the rough rope is already unpleasant. You’d normally tell him to fix it, but you’re trying to show him (and yourself) that you can endure whatever he can throw at you. “And yes, I know my safewords,” you anticipate his next question before he even opens his mouth.
“So anxious for me to get inside you, princess.” He’s just teasing, but you nod quickly.
“Need you, sir.”
He climbs off you and pulls his shirt off. “Anything for my girl,” he says fondly. You crane your neck to watch him strip; even after years with him, you still feel a pulse of anticipation every time he unbuttons his pants or takes off his shirt. You spread your legs, happy your ankles aren’t tied. His erection springs free, and you whine loudly for him.
“Quiet, love,” he warns. “Love those slutty moans for me, but don’t be greedy. You get sir’s cock when he gives it to you.”
You bite your lip to stop any other noises. “Yes, sir,” you finally manage.
“Good girl,” he praises. “I’m turning you over now. Wanna fuck you from behind.”
“Mmm, sounds wonderful, sir. Go ahead,” you allow, even though he didn’t actually ask your permission. You’ve been telling him he doesn’t have to ask for every single thing anymore, and he’s doing better about being assertive, but you know it makes him feel better when you give him verbal confirmation that you’re okay.
He slides an arm under your back and flips you onto your stomach. “Legs together,” he orders.
“You don’t want my legs spread for you, sir?” You ask, closing your legs.
“I do love when my pretty whore can’t help but spread her legs for me, but I want you as tight as possible around my dick, princess.” He climbs onto the back of your thighs, tracing little shapes down your back. “God, such a pretty thing. And she’s all mine,” he marvels. You feel him shift forward, and he sucks hard on the back of your neck right above your collar. You moan, squirming against the bed. “So desperate for me. Should say ‘Brendon’s Slut’ on that collar, shouldn’t it?” he whispers behind your ear.
You don’t say anything, not sure if he’s actually anticipating a response.
He pulls slightly on your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but it still surprises you. “Answer me.”
“Yes, sir,” you whimper. “It should.” And you feel his cock pulse against your back. “But I feel how fucking hard you are for me, so I don’t know if you’re in any place to talk. Sir.”
He kisses your neck where he was just sucking. You have to clench every muscle to keep from writhing at his lips on the sensitive spot. “I’m not arguing, baby girl. You know how easily you get me aching and desperate for you. You’re my best girl. You affect me so much without even trying,” he praises. “But,” he continues, and you brace yourself for the reprimand. ”I don’t like your tone at all, love. I was just going to fuck you, but all this perfect skin exposed for me is making me want to mark you up with the paddle, baby.”
“You can, sir,” you say, although you weren’t anticipating any pain-play tonight, and you really just want him to fuck you. But you’re doing this for him, so if he wants to spank you, you’ll let him.
He massages your lower back while he thinks, and you melt into the caring touch. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that. And this is already a lot. I don’t want to push you.”
“I’m yours, B. Do whatever you want with me,” you prompt, trying not to let your frustration in him breaking character show.
His hand moves down to rub your ass affectionately. “In that case, sweet girl, I think I will spank you. With my hand though, I know that you like that better.”
“I do, sir. Thank you.” You would’ve taken the paddle without complaint, but you love his firm hand making contact with your skin way more than the unforgiving wood.
“How many do you think you deserve, love?”
“Ten?” You suggest, voice already trembling.
He makes an agreeing sound. “I was thinking fifteen, but if my girl thinks ten would be better, ten it is.” One of his hands leaves your ass to give you your first spanking.
Normally he’ll give you five to ten more than you ask for, so you’re a little offended that he thinks you can’t take more than ten. “Sir, wait- I can take as many as you can give,” you protest.
Brendon puts his hand back down on you gently. “So eager to prove yourself. I know you can take it,” he chuckles. “Just want to get inside you sooner rather than later,” he explains. You nod, content with his reasoning.
He picks up his hand again. “Count for me,” he says, the first smack against you hard enough to sting.
“One,” you choke out, the pain already overwhelming.
Brendon rubs his hand against you in little circles before bringing his hand down even harder again. The rope chafing against your wrist burns when you recoil from the impact. Before you can stop yourself, you sob, trying to silence yourself with a pillow. This isn’t your first time crying during a punishment or sex, but this isn’t your normal cathartic release. You feel trapped and panicked in a way you usually don’t. The tight collar is making it hard to breathe. “Two,” you barely manage. Kala could keep going. You can tough it out too. You don’t have to safeword.
“Red,” Brendon says sternly. “I’m stopping the scene.” He moves down and stands next to the bed, rushing to untie you and unfasten the collar. Your wrists are raw and an angry shade of pink, and you can’t see, but you’re sure the collar left an indent on your neck. He wraps a blanket around you, and you smile at him gratefully. It’s not like you mind him seeing you naked, of course; it’s just that you’re feeling incredibly vulnerable, and your exposed state wasn’t helping. Your stomach clenches when you see his face is full of concern and frustration.
“Brendon, I can keep going. We don’t have to stop. I can take it,” you object, embarrassment overtaking the relief you feel from stopping.
“What? No! Baby, I can't believe-” He takes a deep breath and unclenches his fist. “Y’know what actually? I am upset right now, and I don’t want to take it out on you. You don’t deserve that. I’m not mad at you. I’m gonna go grab a pair of sweatpants from the laundry room, and then we are going to talk about this. Does that sound good?”
You think about asking him to just stay; you know he would, but letting him take five minutes to get dressed and cool down seems like a good sacrifice for both of your mental health. You sit up, pulling your legs toward you and resting your head on your knees. “Go ahead, B. I’m good here.”
“Alright, baby. Thank you,” he says, turning away.
“Bren,” you say so quietly you’re not sure he’ll hear you. Always hyper-aware of you, he does hear you and turns around, worry evident in his entire body. “There’s nothing wrong,” you assure, feeling awkward to have concerned him. “I was just wondering if I could get a kiss before you go? But never mind, I probably don’t deserve that.”
He sighs and looks defeated. “Of course I’ll kiss you, baby. I’m frustrated and disappointed in you, but I still want you to feel loved and reassured. I’m not going to withhold kisses when you’re clearly distressed,” Brendon says calmly. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I love kissing you. I just didn’t want to touch you if it would make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, that’s good thinking. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Anything for you, love,” he responds. Brendon leaves and comes back in sweatpants and a soft t-shirt. He’s holding one of the massive shirts you like to sleep in just in case you want to get dressed too. You sit up so he can slip the shirt over you, and you already feel better. He opens his arms, inviting you to snuggle up against him without pushing you. You cling to him happily, kissing his jaw and pulling the blanket over the two of you.
He strokes your arm lightly. “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs after you get comfy. “Are you comfortable talking about what just happened? I’m a little confused.”
You bite your nail, and he instinctively moves your hand out of your mouth. He holds your forearm securely while grabbing lotion from the nightstand to rub on your irritated wrists. He uses the lotion while you talk, and it helps to soothe and relax you. “I don’t know. It seems kind of silly now,” you say, still beyond embarrassed that he stopped for you.
“Did it feel silly in the moment?” He asks.
You shake your head. “God, no. I was in pain and panicked and disappointed in myself that I couldn’t be a better sub for you.”
Brendon’s eyebrows furrow. “Oh, princess, you know you’re always my best girl. And, no, that’s not silly. Of course it’s not silly. You seemed really upset, but you never safeworded. That’s not like you at all. I sensed something was off the whole time, but I figured I was being overly cautious because you never spoke up or safeworded. What happened? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Last night, Kala was talking about all this stuff she lets Zack do to her, and I felt bad because you’re such a good dom, but I safeword all the time, and you don’t get one of those willing subs that you can do anything with. I can’t be your little fuck doll like you deserve, but I tried. I could have kept going,” you try to explain, choking back tears.
He tightens his grip around you protectively. “Oh. Oh, baby. No. First of all, don’t compare yourself to others. Our relationship is way different from Zack and Kala’s. Honestly, the things they say scare me sometimes. That’s not something I’m interested in. You should have come and talked to me first if you felt insecure. I love getting to take care of you without feeling like being overbearing. I would still gladly be your dom even without the sexual aspect. Okay?”
You nod. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s okay. That’s why we’re talking about it now. So we both know for the future. Which brings me to my second point: please never tough your way through it for me. Your well-being is my first priority, and your pleasure is a very close second, so if you’re not having a satisfying experience, there’s no point in us continuing. Even your punishments should be a little fun, baby girl. You’re an adult; I don’t actually have to ’teach you a lesson.’ We just do them because you love them,” he reminds, and you smile because you do love them. “Tell me to stop as often as you want to stop. You’re the strongest person I know, mentally and physically. You have nothing to prove to me. Just because you can keep going doesn’t mean you have to keep going. I’ll never ever be disappointed in you for safewording, but I’m very disappointed in you for not safewording when you should have.”
You still flush, ashamed of yourself despite what he’s saying. “What about you? You never got to come; I stopped you.”
“God, love, that’s no reason at all to push yourself. Sex is about bonding and mutual pleasure; we were not bonding, and you were not being pleasured, so it’s good that we stopped. My orgasm is barely a priority; if that were all that mattered, then I could just go jerk off in the bathroom or guest room. But it’s not, baby; I’m so focused on you that getting off didn’t cross my mind. Don’t worry about it.”
You sniffle, and before you know it, tears are pouring from your eyes without your control. Brendon’s eyes widen, and he quickly grabs a tissue from his nightstand. “Oh no, baby. I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?”
You sob harder, giving up on the tissue and burying your face into his shirt. He doesn’t even care about the gross dampness soaking through his clothes; he just rubs your back in a desperate attempt to soothe you. “I’m not upset,” you finally hiccup into his chest. “You’re just so perfect and caring,” you sob, finally feeling the rush of catharsis you didn’t get earlier while playing with him. “My best guy. You know what I need better than I do. I love you so much.”
“Oh, honey. I love you too. Let it out.” He’s still rubbing gentle circles on your back, working to comfort you.
You heave against him one more time. “Sorry, Brendon- or um, are you daddy? Or, or sir?”
“Don’t apologize. And you can call me whatever you’re most comfortable with.” Brendon says.
You consider the options. You always love him as just your husband, but you’re not sure he would have shown quite this level of understanding and maturity before he became your dom. “Thank you, daddy.”
“You’re welcome, sweet girl. Now, let’s cuddle and go to sleep, and in the morning, we can revise and try the scene again? If you’re still interested?”
You perk up. “Yes, that sounds great. But, lots of revision,” you laugh. “My wrists are too sore for any bondage, and I don’t think I can handle any degradation in the near future.”
He kisses behind your ear. “Mmm, already better communicating with me. Such a good girl.”
•••
“Sir, fuck. You’re incredible,” you moan, burying your face in a pillow.
After a bit of negotiation, you and Brendon basically stripped the scene down to rough sex with lots of praise. Part of you feels like it’s embarrassingly vanilla, but Brendon’s always excited to fuck you, and he said so himself that you have nothing to prove, so you’re not fretting over it.
“I know I’m incredible,” he laughs, fucking into you harder. “I can feel how wet you are around me. It’s doing fantastic things for my ego.”
“I’m always wet for you,” you gasp, grinding against the bed while he fucks you from behind. “You’re fucking hot; I can’t help it.”
He grabs your hips to thrust even faster. “I thought I was supposed to be praising you, princess. I’ll take the compliment, but I feel like I’m neglecting my duties.”
“Oh god,” you cry at the rapid pace. “So good. But yes, you’re right. Praise me, sir.”
He laughs, amused. “Why do I even pretend I’m in charge in this relationship, princess? My bossy girl,” he teases. “Mmm, but I love her so much. Being so good for me right now. So tight around me like this. Feels so good. I know you really like positions where I can face you, but thank you for trying this for me. Such a good girl.” You push back against him, taking him deeper. “And she takes my cock so well,” he groans.
“I am not bossy,” you start to protest until he hits inside you perfectly, able to get inside you deeper more easily in this position. “Keep this angle, keep this angle,” you rush out, arching your back ever-so-slightly. “Okay, fine, maybe a little,” you concede. “But I’m still your best girl. I do wish I could look at you, but I won’t pretend this is a huge sacrifice for me. I’m having a great time,” you moan, shoving your face deeper in your pillow.
“And don’t get me wrong, sweet girl, I’d love to see you too, but I’d be lying if I said the image of your eyes rolling back in bliss isn’t burned permanently into my brain. I do miss playing with those perfect tits though. And it’s hard for me to rub your clit like this.”
“Can I, sir?” You loosen your death-grip on the bed sheets to slip a hand between your body and the bed. “Love you to death, and you feel wonderful, but I won’t be able to come from this alone.”
“Yes, you can touch yourself, princess. Please do. Just remind me that I owe you later for making you do all the work now,” he says, fully sincere even though he’s actually the one doing all the work; you can hear the exertion in his voice. He loves to spoil you though, so you won’t feel guilty about badgering him to go down on you later. You rub your clit the same way he does it: firm but gentle circles in time with his thrusts. In some ways, you like the control of taking care of yourself, but he practically knows your body better than you. You’d take his hands over your own any day.
Brendon’s hips meet your ass repeatedly, and you love the rapid collisions more than you like when he spanks you. It’s just the right amount of pain to bring your pleasure to another level. And you get the same sense of accomplishment for being good for him and taking the extra challenge. This is how you should feel during harder scenes or punishments, you remember, even though this is far from a difficult scene.
“I really do love seeing you in this collar. I hope I haven’t ruined it for you. I didn’t mean to fasten it so tightly,” Brendon says. Brendon didn’t bring up the collar himself when you were talking about fixing the scene, but the way his face lit up when you mentioned it made you want to wear it all the time. You readily agreed to wear it again, not too tight this time, and he’s loving it. You’re personally ambivalent towards the collar. You already know you belong to him, so it doesn’t quite drive you wild, but you don’t dislike it at all either, so you don’t mind wearing it to make him happy.
“I love doing things to make you happy,” you respond. “But not at the price of my own happiness,” you add before he worries. “Especially if it involves having sex with you,” you moan, clenching tight around him. Even Brendon’s incredible stamina has its limits, and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as he approaches his orgasm. “Gonna come for me, sir?”
“You know how this works, princess. Unless you’re being punished, it’s you first, or I don’t come at all. Do you think you can come for me?”
You grind against your hand. “Yes, sir. Just keep this same pace and angle for another minute or two,” you moan before biting your pillow.
Brendon groans. “God, baby, testing my endurance,” he says, slightly out of breath.
Heat floods your body when he throbs inside you. “Love how much I affect you, sir. Please, can I come for you?”
“Whenever you’re ready, gorgeous. Come around my cock. Wanna feel that tightness around me,” he allows. “Keep your head up though,” he orders when he sees your head tip forward one last time, “don’t want those perfect moans muffled by a pillow.”
“Pull my hair. Keep my head up yourself,” you whine.
Brendon takes your hair in one of his hands and tugs it slightly. “That’s not how you’re supposed to ask for things, love. What’s my name?”
“Bren-”
He tugs your hair again, slightly harder. “What’s my name?” He growls. “Or let me rephrase: who do you belong to?”
“Daddy,” you cry, coming hard around him. You’re writhing on the bed through your orgasm while he thrusts hard into you a few more times and starts to come deep inside you.
Brendon pulls out to roll you over and kiss your face as aftershocks move through you. “I was going for sir, but daddy works too,” he says quietly, cuddling up with you. “Either way, you’re still my best girl.”
Happiness swells in your chest as you feel utterly fucked and claimed with his come dripping out of you. “Thank you. And thank you for taking care of me so well. I was being silly.”
He kisses your cheek. “I’m just glad you know better now, baby. I’m proud of you for telling me exactly what was wrong. I know that can be tough, but it really helped. And to be honest, when I was talking to Zack, I started to doubt myself a little too. It can happen to anyone; doubt and insecurity are normal. Let’s just agree to talk to each other before letting those insecurities influence our actions, okay? As much as I wish we could just have sex about our problems.”
“I’m fine talking our problems as long as we can have sex about them afterward. This has worked out pretty nicely for me,” you agree, throwing a leg and an arm haphazardly across Brendon for maximum contact while snuggling.
He wraps his arms around your back, squeezing you against him perfectly. “I can settle for that compromise. Worked out nicely for me too,” he yawns.
