i want to tie up a pretty boy.
i’d take my time, first easing him into it, murmuring gently as i lay the straps and toys on the bed, watch his eyes and breath catch as he looks over each one. let him deliberate, let him imagine — those are going to be used on him, and he traces a finger along the veins of a silicone dildo, shivering. a gentle brush against his knuckles refocuses him, grounds him, ties him to me: an implicit command coaxing: what i do with the toy and his body is not his concern. it’s mine. quietly, gently; trust me.
at his approval, they’re pushed to the side as i push him onto the bed, leaning into the kiss, leading it, swallowing him at the first chance i get. make him shiver, make his pretty lips moan, make him pant, make him spent; then, to grasp his chin between my fingers and force his gaze into mine, “so good, pretty boy. already wrecked before i’ve even done anything to you. so good for me.”
“are you ready to feel good?” i ask.
a whimper. a whine. fuzzy eyed already, so cute.
“i need a verbal answer.”
in the darkness, there are touches — firm but gentle hands, grounding and tethering him in the dark. a tracing on his sides, a pinch by his hip, all saying, i’m here. relax. “so good,” i murmur, “you’re being so good.”
the straps are next, one each binds his calf to his thigh; my hands are warm as i fold his legs, pushing him apart, then binding them back. it leaves him beautifully exposed propped up against the pillows. it’s a steady hold, the pressure grounding; not too tight but firm. his wrists are done to each other, then pressed above his head, stretching out his torso, the bareness of his chest, the line of hair to his cock. so pretty, so beautiful. i let the moment hang, let his body get used to the position, and then, let him wonder — in the dark, belly up and exposed, what i will do to him next.
teasingly, i blow cool air on his chest, small puffs that get his nipples hard. it continues like this, only the barest of touches in a dark world, the only that exists outside himself are the finger-light touches; collarbone to chest to thigh. one just barely glances his inner thigh.
and my tongue touches the tip of his dick.
unlike everything else, it’s warm, and small at first — a few bobs just past my lips before i lick a stripe down its length, just to watch him shiver. then from base to tip, as i press his thighs apart as my head buries between his legs, and take his length again, licking and moaning around his cock, making him shake and tremble and writhe so deliciously. as he whines and whimpers and bucks, as he so delightfully loses himself to rut his cock into my mouth, i take him to his base and slide a finger in.
he takes me easily, despite the whining, the long keening noise he makes when my fingers explore his hole, press into its walls. i let him roll onto my fingers and into my mouth, a cycle that makes him desperate and sloppy, poor thing. chasing that high so single-mindedly, it’s adorable.
my mouth slides off his dick with a pop from my lips, and again, i just watch him tremble and shake as his orgasm recedes, just out of reach. wait until he whines but isn’t rutting, wait until he gives up trying to do it on his own. let his hips try to jerk, his ass press helplessly into the bed, watch him clench around an empty hole.
“say it. tell me how much you want it, pretty boy. tell me how much you want to be fucked. tell me how much you want to cum.”
“say it louder. again. tell me with those pretty boy lips how much you want it.”
the toy presses against his lips.
it’s a big toy, filling, sturdy under the silicone. his mouth is sloppy, all tongue and teeth and wanton abandon. if his eyes were open, they’d be dazed and hazy. he whines around it, feeling it fill his mouth, how wonderfully thick it is. how beautifully he’ll take it.
it, now wet and warm, prods at his entrance, doesn’t quite push in.
“so good. you’re a good boy, aren’t you? tell me. say it.”
it presses harder, but doesn’t slide in. not yet.
“say it, pretty boy. tell me how good you are.”
a kiss to his lips. “such a good boy.”
it’s thick, thicker than it felt in his mouth, his hole clenches, and his body jerks — my legs keep him spread, a hand keeps his hands pinned above us, and it fucks him relentlessly. it’s curved even, to rub at the roof of his hole, to hit that spot over and over and over, and here he is, on the edge again, whining and panting as he wants to cum, wants to cum so bad, around this thick toy, filling him up so good with a familiar sort of sturdiness-
it pauses inside of him, half a stroke out, part of him empty, part of him twitching and begging for the friction again, mouth an incoherent mess of whining and whimpering. “do you want to cum?” i ask sweetly, dangerously. “you want to cum, don’t you?”
the vibrator whirrs to life, buzzing inside him as it buries into him, fucking him over and over and over until one orgasm bleeds into the next into the next into the next. somewhere above him, i’m cooing, whispering sweet encouragement as he writhes and cums harder and harder and harder. it’s only when his body slumps, when he’s given all he has to give, that the toy slides out of him with a wet pop, and even as he whines, i press a kiss to his temple.
“so good,” i murmur, unbuckling him slowly, manually stretching and massaging his arms and legs. “you did so good for me, pretty boy. you came so much. you must’ve felt really good, huh?”
theres a kiss to his lips and my hands snake behind his head, undoing the blindfold. “there you are, handsome,” i murmur, soft and quiet in the gentle darkness. “you did so well tonight. i’m so proud.” and i settle him into clean blankets and pillows, pressing a chaste kiss to the forehead. “rest for now, hm? i’ll be right here.”
