maybe a little undertaker and short reader if you’re interested in writing it !
Of course! Here’s a couple things that came to mind, plus some random, head canony thoughts…
As you come down the stairs, he’s waiting at the bottom. You stop on the third stair from the floor and raise your arms in question. “What do you think?” You ask, holding your arms out to display your outfit.
“You look beautiful, darlin’ - you always do.”
Your cocktail dress is a deep, rich purple with just a hint of shine and it clings to you in all the right places - you feel beautiful. A silver choker and diamond drop earrings complete the look.
“You coming all the way down babe, or are you just gonna stand there and look at me?”
Your hand rests on the stair rail as you look him over. “Give me a minute - I don’t normally get this view.”
He looks confused for a second and then huffs out a laugh when he realises what you mean - you’re standing on the third stair, which puts you at eye level with him. He does the same ‘arms out’ gesture to indicate his own outfit and you grin.
“Devastatingly handsome,” you assure him as your eyes rove hungrily across his strong shoulders and long legs, which are encased in a beautifully tailored charcoal suit. The very top of his midnight blue button down shirt is open and you know by the end of the night you’ll be snuggling inside the jacket with him.
“OK, baby - car’s waiting,” he says and reaches forward to settle his huge hands around your waist before lifting you gently from the stairs down on to the floor. You opted for shoes with just a slight kitten heel and as he hugs you to him you smile at how protected he makes you feel. Your small hand disappears as it’s engulfed by his and he leads you out the door to the waiting vehicle.
————
You’re laying on your side, leant against him as you watch the TV. His big hand strokes up and down your body as though he’s petting a big cat. You love how you fit so neatly against him and you don’t have to worry about your head obscuring his view.
“I’m chilly,” you proclaim as you draw your knees up to hug them.
“I’m Mark, good to meet ya,” he replies absently, most of his attention on the screen.
You roll your eyes to yourself and then look up at him and let out a small whine. He snorts and reaches up to the back of the couch where he’s left one of his hoodies. He snags the bundle and then shifts against you. “C’mon - sit up a bit and put this on.”
You haul yourself into a more upright position and he pops the hoodie over your head, but he’s working from a less than ideal angle. After a few tries he curses quietly and abandons you to your fate as you tunnel around inside the garment, looking for the exit. The first false start has you trying to push your head down one of the huge sleeves and unseen, he patiently moves the hoodie around so that you can get your arm down it instead. The hood has flopped over the neck hole and so you’re back to flailing ineffectually inside the dark material, rapidly reducing into helpless giggles that really don’t help matters.
“For the love of…” you hear him mutter and then you feel him shaking because he’s giggling too. He eventually grabs the one arm that you’ve successfully managed to manoeuvre into the right place and pushes the sleeve down so that your hand slips out the end. “OK, now keep still a sec… just gonna… move that arm - not that one, baby… there ya go… you can figure out where the neck is now, right?”
Still in fits, you wave your arms up and down like you’re trying to direct a plane into land. “Help meeee!”
You feel him take hold of you again and sit patiently as he flips the hood back and then pulls the clothing down so that your head finally pops out.
“There she is!” He laughs, and smooches your lips a couple of times.
You giggle and grin and kiss him back. “Thank you for saving me - thought I was gonna die in there.”
“I would never have let that happen, sweetheart. You all good now? C’mon and lay back down.”
Happily you settle back in against him, turning your attention to the TV and all is calm.
“Think I’m too warm now after all that struggling,” You say quietly after a couple of minutes.
His strong arm wraps around you and holds you firmly in place. “Nuh-uh. You stay put - you’re not getting out of that thing for another hour, at least.”
You do a mental shrug, lifting the too-long sleeve to your face where you rub it against your cheek, enjoying the scent of him that’s worn in to the material and decide that actually, that’s fine by you.
————
Head Canons
Going for a walk together is fun, but sometimes it’s a little difficult. You probably have to do two or three steps for every one of his and if he goes striding off then you have to run to catch up - this is why you insist on holding hands. You both love being out in nature though and it’s especially handy because he can lift you up with ease to take a closer look at a bird’s nest in a tree.
Selfies aren’t easy but you’ve managed to perfect it now - if he sits down and you kneel up then it’s workable but standing up selfies are a bust. He suggested ‘one of those stick things’ but even that didn’t improve matters much. Kissing, though… kissing is fun - lots of experimentation there. Sometimes he’ll pick you up for a quick smooch, or if you’re cuddling on the couch then it’s easy. Other than that, you stand up on to your tiptoes and he’ll bend down so that you can meet somewhere in the middle. One memorable time after he’d been abroad for too long you literally climbed up him when he came through into arrivals at the airport, one quick jump and a bit of scrabbling and then you were sat happily with your legs wrapped around his waist while he supported you easily with one arm.
Sometimes he teases you - bending his knees until he’s eye level with you and looking around, proclaiming how ‘everything looks different from down here’. Or he’ll move some of the every day kitchen items up to the top shelves, just to watch you stretch up as tall as you can - sniggering as you bat at things with your fingertips in a bid to topple them down for you to catch. One time out walking in the rain, he called you to an urgent halt and you wondered what happened - only for him to scoop you up and carry you across a puddle (“Can’t have you getting swept away, can we?”).
In bed? Well, he loves to say that height doesn’t matter once you lay down and he’s definitely right when it comes to a few things… Spooning in bed is the best and occasionally he even lets you be the big spoon (“Just so long as you mind where you’re putting those tiny popsicles you call feet!”). He’s so big that you can just climb all over him - lay right on him if you choose to. He sometimes threatens to do it back to you and so if you’re feeling playful you’ll roll off him and tell him to do his worst. Nothing like the feeling you get from him kneeling astride you with a smirk before he captures both your wrists in one huge hand and pins them above your head. You don’t know if there’s a word for ‘feeling so vulnerable but at the same time so safe’ but there certainly should be.
Taker smut time as The List continues, this time with wax play (also please see safety notes at the end)…
The List - Wax Play
You open the bedroom door to be met with dozens of flickering candles, set in clusters around the room - the bed is turned down… all the way back, actually, you notice and there’s some kind of pastel-coloured translucent sheet laid out on it but in the low light you can’t tell exactly what it is.
“What’s the occasion?” You ask, leaning back against him and wriggling slightly as his strong arms wrap around you.
“You wanted to try playing with hot wax didn’t you, little girl?”
Your head falls back against his chest as you try to look up at him, instantly feeling your stomach flip at the thought of a scene. “That’s a lot of wax…”
He strokes a finger over your exposed throat and then dips his head and bites the side of your neck before saying, “It’s not all to use on you. Regular candles aren’t always safe to use for this. They melt at a much higher temperature - I’ll be using the soy wax.”
As your eyes have adjusted to the dim light you now find that you can make out some colours… there’s a lot of black and purple and how do you just know that those are the ones he’s going to use. You really have no idea what this is going to feel like, but you’re incredibly excited by the prospect and turn around in his arms and smile up at him.
“Where do you want me?” You ask playfully, stroking your hands from his shoulders down to his hands.
His demeanour changes slightly and he holds himself straighter as he pushes you gently away from him. “I want you naked, on your knees right there, waiting quietly until I come back.”
Your stomach flips at the quiet but firm order and you drop your gaze and reply, “Yes, sir.”
He waits while you strip out of your clothes and sink to your knees and then takes some time to correct your posture to his liking. He gently pushes against your lower back while simultaneously urging your shoulders back until you’re ramrod straight. Next, he nudges your ankle with his foot, a silent command to pull it under yourself properly.
“Gonna do a whole scene with you about positions and posture,” he says quietly in a tone tinged with humour and you bite your lip as you look up at him.
“I’m sorry, sir - I’ll try harder.” You really mean it, too.
He strokes over your hair and smiles. “Don’t worry little girl, it’ll be fun; lots of opportunity for correction.”
You smile back, amazed briefly at how you now, for the most part at least, feel at peace with your desires. He turns and leaves and you take the time to look around the room properly, noticing that some candles sit in traditional holders while other flames dance from slightly larger containers that you can’t quite make out now that you’re lower down. The space is warm to the point where you don’t feel cold despite your nudity and that’s largely down to the sheer volume of candles that he’s employed.
You’re not sure how long you’re alone for, but when he returns his hair is tied back, he’s changed into a sleeveless t-shirt and he’s holding a small black box. Your eyes rove hungrily over his arms - you adore everything about him of course… but especially his arms. He takes a seat in the easy chair in the corner and looks you over, a slight frown coming to his face.
“I didn’t adjust your posture for fun, little girl - smarten it up.”
Now that it’s been highlighted, you realise that you’re slouching and leaning slightly to one side from where you were looking all around the room. You quickly do your best to recreate the position that he put you in earlier and feel relieved when he gives a small nod.
“Seems like you really do need a little bit of learning time on that, doesn’t it?” He says, referring to his earlier comment about a scene based around positions.
“Yes sir,” you reply softly, hoping he’s not too cross with you.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he says. “Now, I need to cover a couple of things with you. Like always, I’m going to start slow and if you don’t like what you’re feeling then you tell me.”
You nod - he says this every time you try something new and at this point it makes you want to roll your eyes but deep down you know it’s because he’s responsible. What he says next though, does take you by surprise.
“Once the wax has gone on and dried, it’s gonna have to come off again. I’ll be able to use my hands but I think it would add to the atmosphere if I use this.” So saying, he opens the small black box and takes out an ornate-looking knife. “I wanted to check with you first rather than spring it on you when you might be a little spaced out.”
“Is it sharp?” You ask, reaching a hand out and then drawing it quickly back again as you realise he might not want you to touch.
“It’s sharp enough,” he says. “I’ll be careful and if you don’t like it, just say the word.”
You have a picture in your mind’s eye of you laid out on the bed, him above you with the blade pressed to your skin and it makes you shiver in the best way.
“I’d like you to use it. Please, sir.” You tag the honorific quickly on to the end so that he won’t scold you for forgetting.
A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth and he stands up, handing you a hair tie from his pocket. “Clip it up, as well - make sure it’s all off your neck and then I want you face down on the bed.”
As you get on to the bed you realise that the pastel-coloured sheet was a shower curtain and you do your best to settle carefully into position so as not to rumple it too much. He steps up alongside you and strokes a large hand down your back.
“I’m going to start small,” he comments and then you gasp and flinch as your back feels peppered with spikes. “How was that?”
You take a moment to consider. “I’m not sure, sir… it faded really fast.”
“A little more, then.” There’s a note of humour in his voice and before he’s even finished speaking there’s the sharp, hot pain again - stronger this time - and you hiss and arch your back. “Looks like you enjoyed that, little girl.”
You let out an affirmative little whimper as the initial sharp burn dulls to a comforting warmth and then with a roll of your shoulders confess, “It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”
“I can make it hurt a bit more,” He says, stroking a hand over your butt. “The closer the wax is to your skin when I drop it, the more painful it’ll be.”
“Please, sir…?” Your eyes are closed, you feel safe and an aroused warmth is spreading through you. Sometimes you want to film the two of you together so that you can see him from other angles - really learn how he reacts to your playtime.
“Seeing as you said ‘please’,” He comments and then you feel a line of fire down your spine that seems to go on and on, making you cry out quietly for its duration.
The feeling takes longer to fade this time and you pant softly but haven’t quite recovered when it happens again and then a third time has your hands twisting into the sheet as your cries become louder.
“Remember your colours,” He says quietly and you take instant comfort in the words. You don’t actually feel the need to call, but it always makes you feel protected - that little reminder that he’s looking out for you. The next few minutes are back to peppering little darts of heat all over and you start to wonder whether there’s any untouched skin left on your back.
“Want me to take a picture of this?” He asks suddenly and your eyes open. “Otherwise you won’t get to see it.”
“Yes, sir - please,” You answer eagerly and you see him set a purple candle down carefully and then hear a cupboard open and close.
“Keep still now,” He says and then there’s a flash followed by the click and whir of a Polaroid camera. He snaps a few shots and then his hand engulfs the back of your head, nails scratching gently over your scalp. You moan and push back against his hand as you moan happily from the contact.
“Ready to turn over, little girl? Give me a fresh canvas to work with?”
With an eager little sound you roll over and reposition yourself, arms stretched out to either side like a sacrifice - it feels apposite in the current atmosphere. He hums low in appreciation and then climbs on to the bed and kneels astride you, stroking over your skin with his fingertips. You bite your lip against a squeal as he brushes across your ticklish underarms and then let out a moan as he pinches lightly at your nipples, teasing them into tight, proud peaks.
“Gonna cover these in a little while… it’ll hurt, though.” He leans down and kisses you, teasing your lips apart as his body covers yours, his clothes rough against your skin. He breaks the kiss and then speaks softly against your lips. “Think you can stand the pain for me?”
You nod as best you can and whisper back, “Yes, sir… I like it.”
“Mm, I know you do.” He kneels back up and traces your lips with two fingers, smirking down at you as your tongue darts out to lick over the digits. “My little pain slut.” He gives a final quick pinch to each nipple and then climbs off you, crossing to the set of drawers and picking up a fresh candle. Returning to stand beside the bed he contemplates you for a moment and his close scrutiny has you spreading your thighs, just a little.
“I don’t want it to splash while you’re face up, so I’m going to hold the candle nice and close. If it gets too much then you know what to do.”
You wriggle slightly in your impatience but nod your agreement before looking up at him pleadingly. “Please, sir… please keep going.”
He smirks again and tilts the candle ever so slightly, gaze flicking between his target and the pool of wax. Your eyes are riveted on the dancing flame and then he finally tips it all the way and you hiss as the hot liquid lands on your shoulder and dribbles down before solidifying. He mirrors the action on the opposite shoulder and then moves the candle, trickling a hot line across your collar bone and down underneath your breasts and then back up to join with the original splash.
Your chest rises and falls with increasing speed as he swaps out to a black candle which he holds close to your stomach and then tips in a messy pool on to your skin. It’s the first time he’s used such a large amount in one place and with a pained gasp you start to lift yourself up only to be met with a heavy hand on your sternum and he pushes you back down.
“Keep still, little girl. Nice and still and take it for me, like a good little pain slut…”
You feel a rush of moisture at him stepping up the domineering attitude and settle back with whimper as he picks up yet another candle and does the same thing again. It’s less of a shock this time and although you cry out, you don’t move and so he sets the candle back down and then rewards you with a kiss.
“There’s my obedient girl. You ready for the finale?”
“Yes, sir.” You nod and grip handfuls of the sheet as he moves away, wishing that you knew exactly what he was planning. The patches of heat on your stomach haven’t dissipated yet but it’s a delicious gentle burn and your hips roll involuntarily.
He comes back over and is holding two tiny white jugs - at least, they look tiny his in huge hands; the image would probably be funny if you weren’t otherwise distracted. He stands over you and indicates the two containers.
“D’you want one at a time little girl, or both together?”
“Both together, sir - please.” You’re not sure why you answer that way, or so quickly, but it seems to please him and he nods.
“Stay nice and still for a second - wouldn’t want to spill them,” He says with a wink and a small huff of laughter at his own joke before climbing carefully on to the bed and straddling you again. He settles some of his weight on your hips and you’re fairly sure it’s intentional. “Ready?”
“So ready,” You breathe out and then the breath gives way to a scream as he takes you at your word and up-ends the vessels right above your breasts. Melted wax gushes from the spouts in thick, heavy streams and he criss-crosses them once or twice, mixing up the colours before dropping them, empty, on to the cover sheet. Instinctively you try to sit up but he’s already leaned forward and captured your wrists in his hands and is pinning you to the bed.
“Such a brave girl,” He says quietly as he watches you thrash beneath him. “I know it hurts baby but that was so good - so proud of you, taking all that for me.”
As the initial shock and pain fades, the feeling of his physically overpowering you comes to the fore and you moan and push against his weight. He laughs at your attempts, low and devious, before giving you a quick kiss.
“We’re not done yet, little girl - it’s time to take that wax off.” He releases his hold and rolls off the bed, collecting the empty jugs and setting them to one side.
“Please will you take a picture first, sir?”
He smiles and nods, fetching the camera and snapping a couple more photos, flapping each one in the air before putting them down out of harm’s way to develop. When he turns back around he’s holding the knife and your heart skips a beat as he advances.
“Still OK?” He asks quietly and you smile and nod.
“Green, sir.”
Bending over you, he drags the tip of the knife gently across your skin until he reaches a patch of wax on your stomach. He taps on the hardened patch a few times and then works the edge of the blade against the wax; you almost don’t dare breathe as you feel the cool steel rocking against your skin. The feeling as the patch is broken free is strangely pleasing and without thinking you move your hand to touch the newly-uncovered skin.
“Ah ah!” His voice is loud and he catches your hand in his own. You lift your head to find him looking down at you with what’s almost a glare and you bite your lip.
“Careful while I’m using this, little girl.” He indicates the knife and you nod contritely.
“Sorry, sir; I didn’t think. I just - I wanted to see if the skin was hot under the wax.”
His expression softens and he guides your hand back to your stomach. “It is,” He says. “Probably not on your back anymore but the wax was thicker here.”
Curiosity sated, you move your hand back out to the side and he resumes work to remove the wax from your stomach and shoulders before urging you to turn over. You look down questioningly at your boobs but he just throws you a smirk. “Saving the best ‘til last, little girl.”
The feeling of the blade scraping across your back is wonderful and you hear the small drops of dried wax hitting the protective sheet with a sound like gentle rainfall. After a while of working with the knife he runs a hand across your back, dislodging loose specks - you’re practically purring at the treatment and then he lands a couple of hard smacks on your backside, making you giggle and squeal.
“Back over, little girl - you know what comes next.” Once you’re on your back again he straddles you one final time and covers your breasts with his huge hands and squeezes. The wax gives way and he brushes large chunks off to each side and then picks up the knife again. With a devious smile he holds the blade to your throat and watches as your pupils blow wide and you lick your lips.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” He strokes the blade gently down to your boobs, working it against the remaining wax. “Maybe I should work something like that into a scene,” He adds as he flicks off a few more pieces and tweaks a nipple with his free hand. “What do you think? I could kidnap you off the street at knifepoint… throw you into my truck and make you do all kinds of things…”
You whine in the back of your throat. “Oh god, yes please sir!” He laughs low and it sends shivers through you.
“Mmm, dirty little girl,” He says and leans down and kisses you. “We’ll talk about that another time.”
He places the knife carefully to one side and then stands up, giving you a brush down with his hands before urging you to sit up whereupon he brushes you down again and then lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, setting you gently down on to the tiles.
“Get a shower started while I go clean up,” He says, stroking a thumb over your cheek.
“Then can we talk about you kidnapping me?” You say with big eyes, catching him around the waist.
“Not tonight,” He says. “I’ve got other plans for you tonight, little girl. One of which involves holding you up against the shower wall and fucking you until you see stars. So get that shower started…”
TTT
Previous | Next
NOTES.
If you’re going to do wax play, then for the love of all that shines use a drop sheet - unless you especially want your sheets / carpets / floors ruined.
I wrote this to have eleventy-billion candles around the room… this actually isn’t very smart. Fire is dangerous and caution should be practiced at all times.
General all-purpose / household candles often aren’t really suited to wax play due to the higher melting point, or chemicals that might be in them - if you’re starting out then you should probably avoid.
Dropping wax from a height means it can splash so be mindful of the recipient’s eyes.
Didn’t write it into this scene but if you’re layering wax on, bear in mind that the skin will keep heating underneath it and burns can occur so again, exercise caution.
You might have seen / read stuff where the Dominant uses a flogger to ‘whip’ the dried wax off… yeah - that’s a brilliant way to ruin a flogger. Removing it in the shower? Excellent way to block your drains. Most of it will come off with gentle encouragement from fingers but in a pinch for any stubborn bits - reach for a plastic card i.e. credit card. Blades can of course be used but again - safety first and for goodness sake be careful!
If you’re thinking of doing wax play in a hotel… be aware that candles can raise a room’s temperature quite significantly, even if there are only a few. Concentration of heat, plus any smoke from extinguished candles could lead to the hotel’s fire alarm being triggered. I suppose whether you care about this or not depends on your tolerance for embarassment and how you feel about inconveniencing an entire building.
More smut, as ‘The List’ gets explored… This one features a surprise guest appearance by everyone’s favourite Heartbreak Kid…
The List - Exhibitionism
“This one might be a little tough to figure out. It’s kind of hard for me to be anonymous and a situation like that could get us a lot of unwanted attention, even at a club.”
You’re cuddling in bed and the subject at hand from your list is ‘exhibitionism / being watched’.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” He continues. “You want people to watch while I play with you? Fuck you?”
You rest your head on his chest. “I’m not sure… I wouldn’t want a big crowd or anything like that. The only time I really thought about it, I imagined just one person and it was kind of like you were showing me off, and you made me come while they watched.”
He hums low and you feel it vibrate in his chest and then he’s flipped you over and is leaning down to kiss you thoroughly. When he lets you up for air you give him a puzzled look and he smirks.
“Just proud of you for saying all that out loud without any whining.” You roll your eyes and slap ineffectually at his arm as you both laugh. He smooches your forehead and then lays back down. “Let me think on it awhile - I’m sure we can come up with something.”
—— Two days later ——
You’re in the shower together when he broaches the subject. He’s just tilted your head back to rinse the suds from your hair when he says,
“Would you want the person watching us to be a stranger?”
You’re confused for a second as to what he’s talking about but you catch up quickly and tilt your head back further still so that you can look at him, albeit upside down.
“I don’t know… if I knew them, I think it would depend who it was, exactly. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” he replies, continuing to rinse your hair.
You turn around and press up close to him, planting a kiss on his chest. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” he says teasingly. You wait for him to continue and then pout when he doesn’t say anything more, making him chuckle and then add, “How would you feel if it was Shawn?”
“Wouldn’t he be weirded out by it?” You manage to say and he actually laughs.
“Not hardly, baby girl - he plays the same way we do.”
This revelation has you agog. “Shawn?” You say, trying to process the thought. “As in, Shawn Shawn?”
“Shawn Shawn,” he replies, still smiling. “HBK, the Showstopper. Mr Wrestlemania. Yeah. That Shawn.”
You stand under the running water as you to try to wrap your head around the idea. You know Shawn pretty well and never had any inkling that he might be into kink stuff… mind you, up until very recently you didn’t know it about Mark, either.
“How do you think you’d feel about it being him?” He asks and you snap back to the present, reach back and squeeze water out of your hair.
“I think that’d be OK, yeah. Definitely OK.”
He shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel he turns back and bundles you up in it before picking up his own. “I’ll call him later; he might want to talk to you, too.”
That thought gives you pause. “Why would he want to talk to me?”
“Because he’s responsible and he might want to make sure you’re not being pressured into anything.”
“OK… but he knows you well enough to be sure you wouldn’t do that, doesn’t he?”
He briskly dries his back and then twists the towel around his waist before fixing you with a level gaze.
“He does, but speaking to you as well means that everyone involved is certain that we’re all good with what’s happening.” You follow him back into the bedroom and flop on to the bed still wrapped in your towel while he pulls some underwear from a drawer. “After all,” he adds with a smirk, “You’re the one that’s gonna be held down and made to come while he watches.”
You feel almost an instant rush of moisture to your core at his words and let out a breathy moan. “Fuck…” you sigh and your hand begins to wander but he walks up and moves it away.
“No time for that, babe - we need to get going,” he says and when you groan in frustration he counters, “Hey, you enjoy a little denial now and again!”
——The next day ——
You hadn’t really expected it all to have been set up to fast and so you feel nervous all morning. You’d both spoken to Shawn together yesterday and then Mark had left you alone and sure enough, Shawn made certain that you definitely wanted what had been discussed. Happy with your enthusiastic consent, the two men then sent you out so that they could formulate a plan for the scene.
He hasn’t said much to you about what was discussed, only that it wouldn’t take place at a hotel but somewhere else that was ‘public but private’ - indoors and safe, of course.
He drives you to a park around lunchtime, you find a secluded spot and have a picnic in the shade and then cuddle together - he can definitely tell that you’re a little nervous. He positions his long legs either side of you so that you can lean back against him and then he proceeds to whisper filth in your ear about what he’d like to do to you until you’re squirming and unspeakably horny. You half expect Shawn to appear at this point but you remember he said the scene would be indoors.
You both return to the truck and you can already feel that your underwear is soaked.
“How you feeling, little girl?”
You look over at him, your face flushed - he knows exactly how turned on you are and he’s loving every second of it, judging by the smirk on his face.
“I need to come, sir…” You say quietly, hoping that he’ll have some pity and at least let you take the edge off. No such luck - he just snorts with laughter.
“Too bad; you’re gonna have to wait. Keep your hands out of your lap.”
You do as he says and with a nod of satisfaction, he pulls the truck out on to the road. You don’t drive for that long when he pulls off the main road, makes a few more turns and then pulls into a parking lot. Ahead of you is what looks at first like a gym and then you realise - Shawn has a wrestling academy and this must be it.
“Let’s go take care of some business,” he says and climbs out of the truck, clearly expecting you to follow. Once outside he grabs your hand and tows you behind him up to the door which he pushes open and leads you through. There’s a large ring at one end and a few guys are in there but you don’t see Shawn. He leads you through a side door and down a hallway and then you come to a door which he gives a halfhearted knock to before pushing it open.
Directly ahead of you Shawn sits behind a desk, which is such an alien idea to you that you almost laugh. He stands up as you approach and flashes that dazzling smile.
“Hey there, big man! Hey cutie,” he adds as he turns to you and gives you a wink. He always calls you that. “I’m told you’ve been playing for a little while now, that right?”
Suddenly feeling shy, you nod and then gasp as a hard smack lands on your sit spot.
“Show some respect, little girl - answer properly.”
You almost panic because you have no idea how to address the blonde. Calling him ‘sir’ doesn’t seem right, somehow… He sees your alarm and his smile softens and he says quietly, “‘Yes, Shawn’ is just fine, cutie. So you’ve been playing a while?”
“Yes, Shawn.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you hope it was loud enough to be acceptable.
“Still new enough at it to be shy, though - I like that.”
“Oh, she’s not always this shy - she screams the place down when she’s coming.”
You feel yourself blushing and look down at the floor as Shawn chuckles, “I bet that’s beautiful to see.”
“We can show you right now, man. I’ve been winding her tight all morning and I guarantee she’s dripping wet.”
Shawn drops into his chair and leans back. “I’d love to see that.”
He wraps his fist in your hair and raises your blushing face to look at him. “How about it, little girl? You said in the truck that you needed to come… this is your chance. Pay off is that Shawn gets to watch. What d’you think? You wanna show us both what a good little slut you can be?”
You nearly come right there and then from his words and you’re breathing heavily but manage to say, “Yes, sir… green.”
He smiles and kisses you. “Good girl - get that dress off.”
You quickly pull the sundress over your head leaving you in just your underwear and he moves behind you, unhooking your bra before pulling you back against him and holding you on display for Shawn to see. He runs his big hands over your body, tweaking at your nipples until you arch against him with a hungry moan.
“Seems like you enjoy him showing you off, cutie.” The blonde’s voice drifts across and you drop your head forwards to look at him.
“Yes, Shawn.”
God, you’re finding that you really do it enjoy it, too. Your clit throbs and your hand instinctively tries to slide down and relieve the pressure but your wrist is grabbed and with a soft growl he bites down where your neck meets your shoulder.
“No touching. In fact… bend over the desk and stretch your arms across it.” He pushes you down and you reach towards the opposite side.
“Look at me cutie,” Shawn says softly and so you raise your head slightly to meet his gaze and then cry out as you’re spanked hard on each cheek.
“Knew it… she’s dripping.” Without warning he pushes two fingers into your pussy and you lift yourself up off the desk in shocked pleasure.
“Get back down there, slut.” He growls and pushes down between your shoulders. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out a few times and your fingers scrabble at the table top. “You want Shawn to hold on to your wrists? Help you stay down and be a good girl?”
You’re struggling to think straight but yes, you do want that and so you fight through the fog of lust and nod as you look at Shawn. “Please sir… green.”
“C’mere, cutie.” The blonde scoots forward on his chair and reaches out to capture first one hand and then the other before drawing them together and closing his fingers around your wrists. You whimper at the gentle restraint and he smiles, directing his next words up at Mark. “She sure is a responsive little thing.”
“Right? She just loves to please… now let’s see if we can’t make her scream.”
He quickens the pace of his fingers as well as increasing the force and you tense against Shawn’s hold as your moans become louder.
“Fuuuuck… oh, fuck that’s so good! More… please, sir?”
He doesn’t miss a beat, just moves his hand from your shoulder to your hair. “My little slut wants more, huh? You want another finger?”
“Yes sir, please! Need to come, please!” Any nervousness you felt is long gone and all you can feel is warm, delicious pleasure.
He gives a tug on your hair. “I’ll give you more but you know the rules, little girl - you don’t come until I say so.” You moan in response and he withdraws his fingers and uses the hand to give you a couple of sharp smacks on the ass. “You hear me?”
“Yes, sir! I’ll be good! Please, sir!”
He hums in the back of his throat and then shoves three fingers into your soaked pussy and proceeds to pound them in hard. You’re pulling against Shawn’s hold and so he tightens his grip and your head falls forward with a gentle thump on to the desk.
“Told you to look at me, cutie.” His voice warns gently and so you drag your head up again and fix your frantic eyes on his face. “That’s it,” he says approvingly, “You feeling real good?”
You nod and then remember your manners and gasp out, “Yes, Shawn!”
“Such a good little slut,” Mark murmurs from above you. “Hold it now, I’m gonna count you down.” His fingers are jabbing into you with little twisting motions and you’re right on the brink. “Five… four…”
“Oh fuck… please, please, please…” You’re mumbling desperately as you try to keep hold of his voice in your head.
“Three… two… one… come for me little girl, that’s it!” You scream as the wave of pleasure crashes over you and he continues to talk and stroke his fingers in and out. “Little slut, coming all over my hand… Shawn’s watching all of this… he’s been able to hear how wet you are - you’re putting on such a good show for him, little girl.”
He continues to draw out your climax until the smallest aftershocks drift away and you’re just laying, limp on the desk and breathing hard. He gently removes his fingers and then lifts you up with ease to hold you against him.
“We’re not done yet, baby.” You make an exhausted, confused sound as he toys with one of your nipples and then he says, “Your clit hasn’t had any attention yet, has it? I think we should do something about that.”
Shawn smiles and pushes back slightly from the desk to get a better view and then he whistles low. “Jeez, she’s soaked - I can see it from here!”
“Why d’you think I wore black jeans?” He counters with a chuckle and you blush yet again at the way they’re talking about you. Still holding on to you with an arm across your torso, he reaches to the side and pulls an office chair over and then sits down, bundling you into his lap.
“Put your legs up on the armrests, there - you want Shawn to be able to see everything don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” You whimper as you raise your legs into position, acutely aware of how on show you are now - this is different to before, when all he’d really been able to see was your face.
“Give me a colour, baby.” His deep voice murmurs into your ear as he senses your nervousness again.
You take a moment to look down at yourself, cradled in his lap but with your legs spread wide and then you look up at Shawn who’s staring at you hungrily. You can feel the bulge in Mark’s jeans and figure that Shawn’s probably in the same state - all because of you. Calm washes over you and you tip your head back to claim a small kiss. “Green, sir… please make me come again…”
“Such a good little slut,” he whispers against your lips. “You keep your eyes on Shawn, little girl - if she closes them, tell me.” He directs that last part to the other man.
“You got it,” Shawn replies, a small smirk pulling at his mouth.
He shifts slightly in the chair and then presses his finger gently against your clit, rubbing in small circles. You bite down on your lip as you moan and it takes everything you have not to let your head fall back against his shoulder. The stroking is maddeningly slow and you try to move your hips to increase the pace but he holds you still. After a while he swaps to a quick tapping of his finger firmly against the sensitive button and you pant as you feel yourself climbing higher. One of your hands creeps towards your mound but of course he sees it and slaps it away.
“Get your hands behind your back, girl.” You shift awkwardly and manage to obey, enjoying the mild discomfort of the self-restraint.
“Got some cuffs around here somewhere - just say the word.” Your eyes widen as Shawn speaks and then you emit a loud cry as he returns to rubbing you, more firmly this time.
“Ohhh fuck… please… please!’
“Please what, little girl?” He’s playing you expertly; just the right speed, just the right amount of pressure and you know you can’t hold out much longer.
“Let me come, sir! Please can I come?” You stare at Shawn who’s wearing his trademark smirk - you daren’t even blink in case it counts as closing your eyes.
“Go ahead - come for me,” He replies almost casually and for half a second you can’t quite believe he’s granted permission so easily, but your brain quickly catches up and you scream your release for the second time that day. Knowing how sensitive you get after an orgasm he backs the pressure off as you come but doesn’t stop entirely, moving his fingers to slide either side of your clit instead and slipping back inside for a couple of long thrusts.
“I want another one out of you, little girl.” He says, tweaking at your nipples with his free hand.
Your eyes are still fixed on Shawn’s face and you note how his expression has changed from slightly smug to rapt and he’s certainly not looking into your eyes any more. Mindful of your orders your gaze doesn’t move even though your hips are rolling as Mark coaxes you back up to the peak. His free hand shifts from your breast down between your legs and you’re impaled on his thick fingers while he massages your sensitive clit - you groan at the pleasure-pain sensation and know that it won’t be long.
“Harder… please, sir…” He grants your wish with a hard shove of his fingers inside you as he pinches your clit and it’s that final burst of pressure that tips you over the edge and you can’t help it - your head falls back against him as you cry out, but when you feel his lips press to your temple you know it’s OK and you groan out the rest of your pleasure.
“Such a good girl… what a good little slut for me…” You hear his whispered praises and arch against him, groaning as you become aware of a twinge of pain in your shoulders.
“Careful, baby… lean forward for me, that’s it…” He gently guides your arms from behind you and rubs your shoulders to get rid of the stiffness. You lift your head to see Shawn, leaning back in his chair and smiling.
“Thank you, cutie - that was beautiful to watch.”
You feel yourself blush and realise how silly that is given what’s just taken place, so you bravely smile back. “Thank you, Shawn.”
The blonde gets to his feet, adjusts himself in his jeans none too subtly and then walks around the desk towards the door, clapping his friend on the shoulder as he goes past.
“Take as long as you both need, big man. I’m gonna go take a shower.”
Mark huffs out a laugh and gives you a squeeze. “Thanks for helping out.”
“Anytime, believe me!”
With that he’s gone and you suddenly find yourself turned through ninety degrees and he’s cradling you in his lap.
“How was that, baby? Did you have fun?”
You grin up at him sleepily. “Couldn’t you tell?” You grasp at his shoulders and pull yourself into a more upright position before kissing his lips softly. “Thank you… did you have fun?”
“I never thought I would get such a kick out of showing you off,” He says with a thoughtful expression. “It was a trip… being the one to touch you like that while he just watched.” He chuckles quietly and shakes his head. “The look on his face…”
He kisses the top of your head and then stands up, still cradling you in his arms. He sets you carefully on your feet and helps you back into your dress and sandals before taking your hand again and leading you back through the hallways. You arrive back into the main area to find that the ring is empty and a thought strikes you.
“D’you think they heard?”
“Nah, we were behind a couple of closed doors and they were busy throwing each other all over.” He tugs you towards the main doors as he adds, “Tell ya what, though…”
You press into his side as you move through the door and towards the truck, “Yeah?”
He opens the passenger door and smacks your backside playfully as you climb up. “People are gonna be able to hear us from space later, little girl.”
WARNING - the chapters that comprise this ‘item’ in The List will contain CNC (consensual non-consent). It will mention rape. There will be humiliation. It will involve weapons - this particular part is mostly knife play. The sub will not always be treated / spoken to kindly. If you’re happy to read such things then feel free to continue.
As ever, please read the notes at the end.
The List - CNC - Part Two
You don’t know how long you’ve been in the back of the truck; it’s stopped and started a few times, probably at lights but you’ve absolutely no idea where you might be. You’ve closed your eyes - no point having them open with the material over your face - and you’re surprised at all the small sounds your ears are picking up. At one point, you think you hear Shawn’s voice but then some music comes on and drowns it out.
The covering over your head is really starting to irritate you and so you begin to rub the side of your head against the blanket, wondering if you can work it loose. After a minute or so however you give up, because it seems like it’s held in place around your neck by a drawstring, which would explain why Shawn had been able to tighten it so quickly. Your mind turns to your destination and you try to guess where they might be taking you. It seems doubtful that he’s merely taking you to his house - they’re too good at this and probably won’t want you anywhere that’s familiar. Certainly not to a hotel… not to any place with near neighbours, really. You pull against your bindings but they’re not shifting. You try working your ankles in small movements and it does seem to loosen off a little, but it’s not going to contribute to any escape attempt.
The truck slows, turns and then you’re bounced around a little as it drives over uneven ground at low speed. Your heart rate instantly picks up again because it’s clear that the next part of this scene is coming up. You wonder whether Mark is waiting because you’ve not had any evidence that he’s here with Shawn in the truck and he definitely wasn’t around in the house. The cab door opens and slams shut and then the darkness of the truck bed is removed as he rolls back the cover. You lay completely still and silent and for a few moments nothing at all happens and then you scream in shock as you’re grabbed and pulled along, the blankets easing the way and then Shawn is manhandling you up on to his shoulder again and you squeak some more.
“Knew I should have put a fucking gag on you,” he comments as he settles you on his shoulder - a more difficult task this time due to your tied position. “You move and I’ll let you fall and just drag you through the dirt.” He turns around and begins to walk as he adds, “Maybe I should do that anyway - it’s where whores like you belong.”
“Not a whore,” You’re breathing hard again and words are an effort.
“Yeah, well… we’ll see about that.” He turns abruptly, making you fear for the safety of your head, and you hear a door open - the sound of a basic latch and then his boots walking across a wooden floor. The smell of timber surrounds you and so you figure you must be in some kind of cabin. Your thoughts are interrupted as Shawn starts to lower you down before he lets go and you drop the last foot or so to the floor.
“Got a live one?”
It’s Mark.
“Oh, yeah… walked right in and back out, easy as anything.”
“She give you any trouble?” You hear his heavy footfall across the floor, getting louder as he approaches until the wooden boards beneath you shake slightly.
“Nothin’ that a couple threats didn’t quiet down. All the usual, y’know.. ‘I can give you money’, ‘you don’t have to do this’ stuff.” You’re prodded with a foot and you assume it’s Shawn as he goes on, “Hey, you’ll never guess what she said when I took her out of the truck…” He breaks out into a giggle. “She said… she said, ‘I’m not a whore!’”
Mark laughs and then he’s crouching down and working the knots that bind your legs to your wrists and you can’t help feeling some relief as the discomfort of the tie leaves you. He unwinds the rope from your ankles and then hauls you to your feet.
“She ain’t saying much now,” He comments, keeping a strong grip on the back of your neck. You try to imagine what expression he’s wearing and make a half-hearted attempt to shake free of his hold. To your surprise he lets go and then you’re just stood there between the two of them, still with the damn bag over your head and your hands tied behind your back. There’s a few seconds silence and then he speaks to you. “Well? Now what you gonna do?”
You’re at a complete loss because well - what can you do? Unsure of their exact positions, you turn your head slightly to the left and right in a bid to address them both.
“I… let me go? Please?”
“Ohh, I like the way she says ‘please’,” That’s Shawn again and it seems he’s on your right. “Let’s get her to say that some more.”
You squeak as Mark takes hold of your neck again and then the drawstring is loosened and he pulls the covering from your head. The cool air is welcome and of course it means that you finally get to see them. They’re both in jeans and t-shirts; the sleeves have been cut off Mark’s and he’s got his hair tied back with a black bandana covering the top of his head. Shawn’s hair hangs loose and he’s wearing a heavy silver chain around his neck. You don’t know how they’re doing it but they’re both exuding an air of being complete strangers to you.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mark says. “We need some entertainment… and you’re it.” He looks across at Shawn and adds, “Shall we?”
“Wh… what do you mean?” You look from one to the other of them as you take a small step back. You don’t get an answer - Shawn just steps behind you and takes hold of your upper arms, causing you instinctively to struggle. You cry out as he laughs and then bites your neck yet again - higher up this time. “Stop, please!”
Shawn just huffs out a laugh and licks across your skin. “Stop? We’re just getting started.”
Mark has crossed to a table under the window and seems to be contemplating something. Your breath catches when he turns around with a hunting knife in his hand. Shawn tightens his grip when he feels you tense up and as Mark starts to slowly walk back over you plant your feet and try to shove back but you’re no match for Shawn’s strength, even as you wrench yourself left and right to try and escape. Mark’s left hand shoots out and he grabs your neck.
“Moving around all over the place when I’m holding this near you?” He says, lifting the knife up so that it’s right in front of your face. “Bad idea.” He holds it so that the tip is pointing directly at you and then grabs your hair to keep your head still. He draws the tip down your neck and you let out a high-pitched whine but don’t dare to speak. “You have any idea how sharp this is?” He continues, turning the blade so that it’s at perfect throat-slitting angle. Your eyes are fixed on his face, wide with fear as the cool metal presses into your skin. “It’d made a real clean cut… you probably wouldn’t even feel it open you up.” Another whimper escapes your lips and he looks at you as he takes it away from your neck. “So with that in mind, don’t you move a single fucking muscle, else you might get hurt.”
He goes to one knee and it would almost look gallant were he not holding a knife that would gut a deer. He grabs a bunch of material at the top of your sweats and then rips the knife through it, the material parting easily to show the pale skin of your thigh beneath. He sets the knife down on the floor and uses his hands to tear the fabric apart further before picking up the blade again and slicing through the waistband. He hacks cleanly through the material on your other leg and then with brute force removes them completely.
“Please…” Your voice is a whisper. “Please don’t do this. Just… if you let me go I, I won’t say anything to anyone - won’t call the police. Please -”
He stands up to tower over you, knife back in his hand and he grabs your hair again, pulling your head back.
“You think I give a fuck about police? They wouldn’t be able to find us anyway.” He puts the blade back at your throat and you close your eyes - this is harder than you thought. The words for your colours scroll through your brain and it helps to calm you; that invisible lifeline… you decide you don’t need it yet, even as he strokes the edge of the metal across your skin as he goes on. “You can scream and cry, you can beg, you can plead with us - go right ahead.” He turns the blade so that once again the very tip is pressing into your neck. “We like that,” He says, dragging the knife gently upwards and gliding it along your jaw before pressing it flat to your cheek, making you bite down on your lip in an unsuccessful bid to suppress a whimper.
“Why me?” You dare to open your eyes and he moves the knife away from your face as in perfect tag team fashion Shawn takes over and gives you a small shake.
“Because you were there, bitch.” He releases one of your arms and puts the hand around your neck, closing it tighter than he has thus far. “There you were out for a run - really caught my eye, so I followed you home. We’ve been looking for a new toy for a few days and there you were - call it fate, huh?”
You go to take a breath and have the frightening realisation that you can’t really get much air in because of his hold on you and you begin to struggle - a futile cause between Mark’s hand in your hair and Shawn’s grip on your throat. The blonde takes hold of your arm again and you gasp in some air, the breath out releasing as a sob as Mark takes a handful of your shirt and sends it the same way as your sweats until you’re stood there in the just the underwear you picked out earlier - it’s a sweet matching set, white with a purple marbling pattern that you only bought a week ago.
“Nice…” Mark takes a step back to appraise you as he twirls the knife in his big hand before slipping it into the back of his jeans. “Did you wear that especially for us?”
“Fuck you,” You snarl at him, figuring that a change of tack is required.
He just smirks. “Later.” He glances above your head and says to Shawn, “Hey, you want a go? Throw her across here.”
In response, Shawn lets go and pushes you forward at the same time as spinning you round. With your wrists still tied behind your back you stagger a bit to regain your footing and then Mark catches you and adopts the same grip on your upper arms, holding you back against him. Shawn steps forward and takes the knife from Mark’s jeans. He stands and contemplates the blade for a few moments and then raises his eyes to look at you coldly. Normally his eyes are bright and they twinkle with fun and amusement but now… there’s nothing. It’s sinister.
He traces the tip of the knife down your sternum and then back up, the metal leaving pink lines in its wake. You’re trying not to breathe too hard and watching his face, but he’s concentrating solely on the blade. He glances up and sees you looking at him.
“He’s a lot nicer than me, y’know.” He presses the blade flat against your throat, forcing your head up. “And I’m still a little pissed about you kicking me when I put you in the truck.” He slides the knife down to your shoulder and works it under the strap of your bra before he turns it to strain against the material. The strap digs into the back of your shoulder until it finally caves to the pressure and the blade slices it clean through. He repeats the action on the other side and looks annoyed when the moulded cups don’t just fall down. With a growl he wrenches them away, revealing your breasts to his gaze and then with determined movements, cuts through the band before pulling the whole torn mess from you and dropping it to the floor.
You turn your head and look off to the side, trying to make out that you couldn’t care less about the fact your clothing has been cut off. Shawn tucks the knife away behind him and grabs your breasts roughly, squeezing them to just the wrong side of uncomfortable. That said, you’re used to a rough ride now and again and privately you know that when your panties come off as they surely must, there won’t be any doubt as to how you’ve felt about things so far. Nevertheless, you do your best to try and get away, twisting left and right.
“Stop it! You’re hurting me!”
In response he takes a strong grip on your nipples and you scream - for effect rather than real objection - only to be ignored as he leans in close. “Keep telling you, bitch… I haven’t even started.”
You’re not quite sure where your next idea comes from and you certainly don’t take the time to think it through - just draw your head back slightly and then spit into his face…
TO BE CONTINUED
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NOTES
Goes without saying that knife play can be hella dangerous. Again, I have taken certain liberties within the above and so don’t whatever you do use it as a how to guide. I’m not going to pontificate about the do and do nots of knife play here, because there are plentiful resources on the net if you want to find out more about it. If it’s something you’re curious about then there are ways to keep it safer (note - SAFER - not safe) and that’s to only ever place the non business-side of the knife against skin. Alternatively, another way around it is to let the sub see the knife but then blindfold them and use something else entirely to produce the sensation, such as the side of a credit card. If, as in the fic above, you’re cutting someone’s clothes off with a knife then always makes sure that you are cutting AWAY from them.
Here to ask for some knife play in a future chapter 👉👈 Maybe some consensual non consent (pre-negotiate of course)?
OK - I’d already begun work on this and because of the subject matter, I knew it was going to turn out to be quite long. That means I’ll be splitting it into parts and so here’s part one - it’s a slow burn I’m afraid, but hopefully, it’ll at least whet your appetite.
WARNING - the chapters that comprise this ‘item’ in The List will contain CNC (consensual non-consent). It will mention rape. It will involve weapons. The sub will not always be treated / spoken to kindly. I will do further warning as appropriate as and when updates are posted.
Due to the CNC theme this part is largely centred around negotiation - and please read the notes at the end.
The List - CNC - Part One
You’re out for dinner, tucked away in a quiet corner of the restaurant when you tell him. “There’s something that I’ve been thinking about… I don’t think I marked it as a definite on my list, though.”
He sets his cutlery down and takes a sip of his drink. “Looking to expand your horizons, huh?” He says with a smile. “What’s on your mind?”
You take a deep breath, and then another bite of pasta which you chew slowly as he watches, as though searching your face for clues.
“It was what you said when we did the wax,” You begin quietly. “When you had the knife and you said about kidnapping me off the street.” You take a drink of your own and set the glass back down. “I’d like to try it - really ramp things up.”
He nods and takes his final bite of steak before setting his cutlery down. “OK. It’s easy enough to set that kind of thing up.”
You’re a little surprised at how flippant he sounds over what you’ve just asked for and so probe a little further. “What if I wanted something a bit extreme, though?”
He looks at you as he finishes chewing and then says, “I’d probably work you over with someone else. Give you hell, little girl.”
This piques your interest as it adds a dimension you hadn’t thought about previously. “Who would it be?” You ask, popping another bite into your mouth.
“Probably Shawn,” he answers. “He’s the one you know best, and probably the one I could work with the best.” He reaches across the table and gives your hand a squeeze. “Something heavy like that would need a lot of discussion and negotiation because we’d likely be going into the realm of CNC.”
The server appears then and clears your plates. You pay the bill and adjourn to the bar next door, into a cosy booth where you can cuddle up. Once you’re settled with drinks you hug his huge arm and say,
“What does CNC stand for?”
He kisses the top of your head. “It means consensual non-consent. Something like kidnapping would fall into that by its very nature.” You nod in acknowledgement, your face rubbing against his arm as he continues. “CNC play takes a lot of negotiation - least it should. It can get rough and be a bit of a head fuck.”
“I’ll do a bit of reading up on it,” You say as you pick up your drink.
Subject raised and under consideration, you begin to talk about other things but as promised you do some research over the next few days and it reinforces for you that this is definitely something that you want to explore.
—— A week later ——
“Sure unleashed a monster with that list of yours huh, cutie?” Shawn smiles and leans back in his seat. “We’re gonna cover a lot, here. By the end of the night you’ll probably feel like you’ve had a scene.”
Mark puts his arm around you, pulling you against him. “If you need a break just say the word, OK baby girl?”
“Yup. Chances are I’m going to end up horny just from talking about all this,” you confess and Shawn laughs.
“We’re not going to plan the scene in detail - that would defeat some of the object. This is just to get an idea of what everyone’s feeling and some limits because from what Mark told me, you’ve been imagining something pretty intense?”
You nod and jiggle your leg nervously, reaching over to pick up your wine glass. “He mentioned kidnapping me off the street at knifepoint - I really like the idea of that.”
Shawn grins. “Bag over the head, thrown in the back of a truck kinda thing?” Wide eyed, you nod and he replies, “It can be done but it can also be risky - only needs one person to spot it happening and call the police; next thing they’ve got a BOLO on the truck and you’re looking at a whole bunch of admin.”
“Never thought about that,” You say. “Having the police show up would definitely ruin the scene.”
“To say the least,” Mark says, leaning back and taking you with him. “There are other ways to kidnap, like having you taken from the house - that would probably work better because no one’s going to see anything around here.”
You start to wonder about details like, taking you from the house to where? And who would be taking you, and how? You’re brought back to the moment when Mark shifts, reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a piece of paper which he passes to Shawn. “This is her list,” he explains.
“Ohhh the list, huh?” The blonde replies with a smile. He scans down it and then looks at you. “There’s a lot on here that we could work into a scene like this… What do the dashes next to stuff mean?”
“Those are the ones we’ve done,” you reply.
“No face slapping yet?” Shawn comments and then gives you a conspiratorial wink. “The big man thinks you’re made of glass huh, cutie?”
You huff out a laugh. “He didn’t seem to think so the time we ticked being hit with a paddle off the list. I could barely sit the the next day.”
“Which you loved, as I remember.” Mark cuts in. “She can be quite the little pain slut,” He adds, giving your hair a tug.
“How does that work with something like this?” You look from one man to the other.
“How do you mean, baby girl?”
“Well, I’m guessing pain is going to get used in the scene…” You trail off while you wonder how to get your meaning across and both men wait patiently. “If I’m turned on by it, doesn’t that contradict the idea?”
“Not at all,” Mark says. “You’re supposed to enjoy a scene and we can use the fact that you’re getting off on it to our own ends.”
“How..?”
“We’re not giving away all our secrets, cutie.” Shawn chips in with a grin. “You’ve got name calling on here,” he adds, tapping the sheet of paper. “Anything off limits in terms of that?”
You know straight away how to answer that question. “I don’t want to be called stupid or dumb,” you say. “And nothing mean about my appearance.”
He nods and smiles. “No problem, cutie.”
“We use pretty tame name-calling already,” Mark supplies, giving your knee a squeeze. “Mostly she’s my little slut, so it’s pretty affectionate really.”
Your cheeks turn faintly pink at how matter-of-fact Mark sounds as he informs Shawn, but you’re really not prepared for what comes out of the blonde’s mouth next.
“Well if you’re looking to step things up with this scene, it’s not going to be so affectionate.” He says to you. “We’ll see how you do with getting told that you’re a set of holes and a cum dump.”
You exhale and feel heat flood your face as you bite your lip. The words have made your stomach roll over in that really pleasant way and Mark chuckles and gives you a squeeze.
Shawn waves a hand and looks mildly sheepish. “Sorry, cutie - I just wanted to throw that at you and see what happened.”
“Your colours are going to be more important than ever for this one, baby girl. You might not react to things the way you thought you were going to and there won’t be as much checking in as I’d normally do.” Mark takes hold of your chin and turns your face to him. “There are no penalties for using those colours, so if you feel like it for any reason - no matter how small - get ‘em said.”
“I promise,” You reply. “I get that what I’m asking for here is a bigger deal than everything else we’ve done.”
“Good. Now, we already know you want some knife play, and we have your list there to pull other things in.” He pauses and then gives you a smirk. “Get ready to blush some more because we need to talk about the sexual elements in all this. More specifically, what each of us is allowed to do with you so far as that.”
You do indeed blush so hard that your face tingles. “Hadn’t thought about it,” You manage to reply and then out of nowhere an image pops into your head. “Want you both,” You say quickly. “I mean… is that OK?”
“Want us both in what capacity, baby?” His voice is gentle and he gives you a quick kiss on top of your head. “I know you might find this embarrassing but you’re going to have to be explicit, OK?”
You nod and gulp down a couple of large mouthfuls of the wine. “I want… I think I’d want you both to take turns with me,” you say quietly.
“OK, cutie - what about oral?” Shawn’s perfectly relaxed and you marvel for a moment at how calm and matter of fact they are both are. Why can’t you be like that too? God this is all so surreal… Another mouthful of wine and you take a deep breath as you decide that you can be like that.
As if reading your mind, Mark speaks up. “There’s no judgement here, baby girl - we’ve both seen your list now and so we’re not likely to be shocked. Just remember this is all to make sure that this comes off as fun for everybody.”
“I think I’m getting there,” You reply with a small smile and then look at Shawn again. “Yes to oral - with both of you,” You add for Shawn’s benefit. “I - I want to put up a fight and be overpowered… want to be used.”
You see the two men exchange a glance and then Shawn gets up and comes to sit on the other side of you, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re doing great, cutie - and I want to thank you for trusting me enough to let me be a part of what you two have.”
“A lot of the time it feels like something the three of us have - it’s nice.” You say as you shift slightly so that you can rest your head on his shoulder.
“That’s because y’all have me spoiled with the involvement you’ve given me.” He drops a kiss to the top of your head.
“It’s our pleasure,” Mark says. “We both love having you as part of the team, Shawn.”
The blonde grins. “Not getting all sappy on me are ya, big man?”
Mark reaches across you and slaps Shawn lightly across the back of the head. “Let’s stay on task here, OK?”
“Love you, too.” Shawn shifts so that he can look at you more directly and his expression becomes unusually serious. “Cutie, you’ve said you want to be overpowered and used - are we talking rape play, here?” He gives you a small smile. “I have no problem doing it,” He clarifies, “but something like that can be a huge mind fuck.”
“Maybe at first,” You reply nervously, feeling weird at discussing such a topic in the context of play. “I mean… I don’t know…” You close your eyes and try to focus your thoughts. “I think… I’ve kind of imagined it that I end up enjoying it - but is that too clichéd?”
“Doesn’t matter, baby girl.” Mark gives the back of your neck a comforting squeeze. “Ultimately the point is for us all to enjoy the scene. If we do it right then you’ll probably feel scared at times, or overwhelmed - again, that’s why those colours are so important.”
You nod and lean back against the couch - there’s so much whirling around your head and it doesn’t feel like you’ve even scratched the surface with this negotiation. Shawn notices your incoming fatigue and changes tack so that he’s asking you questions with yes or no answers while Mark helps you to elaborate where more clarification is needed.
After another hour or so of discussion, with only a few tangents having got the better of you all, it’s agreed that the groundwork has been laid and expectations are clear.
After all that, now it’s just a waiting game.
————
You get home from your run, start some laundry and then vacuum downstairs before heading up to shower and change. You pick out some cute matching underwear and then throw on some sweats and a t-shirt and grab the hairdryer. You blow dry your hair with the customary clonking yourself on the head with it once or twice and jumping when the cord dances in your peripheral vision. You set the tool down and then do a final brush through before tying it back - the laundry should be finishing up soon.
Suddenly you’re plunged into darkness and your head is snapped back, a hand covering your mouth firmly over the material as it’s pulled tighter. You don’t have time to scream but you frantically scrabble at your neck, trying to grab the covering and pull it away from your face. Even as your rational mind says, ‘It’s started - this is their abduction’, the bare concept of what’s happening still has you in panic mode and you try to scream and continue to struggle. Whatever’s over your head is rapidly twisted in order to keep it tight and you’re whirled round and shoved face first against the wall, your attacker’s body pressed up close against you.
“Keep the noise down and stop fucking struggling, bitch.”
Even in your panicked state, you recognise the voice as Shawn’s but it’s so different compared to what you’re used to. His voice is deep anyway but he’s gritting the words out, hissing them into your ear through the material, which distorts it further. Knowing for certain that it’s him means that you’ve relaxed by half a degree - just enough to know that you need to play your part. He takes his hand off your mouth but shifts so that his shoulder pins you to the wall just long enough for him to grab one of your arms and twist it up behind your back. You cry out in genuine pain and he eases the hold but you can still feel the threat of it - if he pushes your arm an inch then the pain will come back.
“What do you want?” You ask, your voice strained.
“Shut up,” He grabs your other arm and then finally releases the vicious hold, but only so that he can bind your wrists together. Not with leather cuffs as you might have expected, but it feels like he’s used cable ties.
You try again. “Money… there’s a safe downstairs - I can open it if you -”
“I said, shut up!” He drags you away from the wall and pulls you against his body, one hand settling at your throat and the other around your waist. This means that your tied-together hands are nestled close to his crotch and a thought flits through your head that you can feel denim, so he must be wearing jeans - funny, the things you think about. He squeezes lightly on your neck and you become aware of how hot your face feels with your head trapped inside this bag.
“I don’t want money.” The hand on your waist moves and he openly gropes you, squeezing your breast and then cupping you hard between the legs. “I got everything I came for right here.” You do your best to wriggle out of his hold but he just laughs low and grinds himself against your bound hands. “A little to the left… yeah, that’s it - show me what a good little whore you can be. You might as well get some practice in now.”
You instantly stop moving and clench your hands into fists. The front of the material over your head is damp from your breath and you wonder whether jerking your head back would hurt you, or him. You can’t run… his hand is still resting around your throat - his arm feels bare and you can smell his skin and even his fabric softener, though that might be the material (pillow case?) over your head.
“Aw, you not gonna struggle anymore?” He says in a mocking tone. You swallow and try to shift your hands up a bit so that they’re not pressing against his crotch and then you feel his mouth on your skin, where neck meets shoulder. He bites down gently and it takes a lot of willpower not to let any pleasure show. Instead you try to wriggle away and his hand instantly tightens on your throat.
“You and me are gonna take a little ride.” You feel his lips move against your neck as he speaks. “Keep that mouth shut, got it? We both know there’s nobody around to hear, but if you start up, it’s gonna piss me off and believe me you don’t want that.” He spins you around again and within seconds has thrown you up over his shoulder and you flail at this new level of helplessness. You think you nearly throw him off balance because he staggers just briefly and then barks out, “Fucking stop that or I’ll just toss you down the stairs!” Your brain catches up enough to realise that you really do need to keep still for this part and so you go limp. He takes a moment to adjust his hold and then says, “You move again and I’ll make sure I bash your head off everything I can find on the way out of here.”
You discover that being carried over someone’s shoulder down a flight of stairs, while unable to see, is not the most pleasant of experiences and you can’t stop a couple of genuine whimpers though you know that Shawn’s being careful. He shifts his hold slightly again as he moves down the last step and then the air changes and you realise that he’s carried you right outside so he must have left the door open when he came in.
He comes to a stop and you expect him to set you down again but he doesn’t, though he does start talking again. “Now, I would let you ride shotgun but with that bag over your head… probably not a good idea. So you’re going in the back where no one can see you.” He turns and one of his hands grips the back of your sweatpants. “One, two, hup!”
You realise as you start to move through the air that he’s throwing you into the back of his pick up and you brace yourself but land on something soft - feels like a pile of blankets - so he’s obviously lined the vehicle bed and you lay there on your side. You’re a bit surprised when you hear him follow you in and then he’s wrapping what feels like rope around your ankles. You begin to struggle again, trying to kick out at him.
“Let me go! People are coming over later and they’re expecting me to be home!” You feel one of your feet connect with him and so you draw your leg back again and deliver a second, much more purposeful kick. He curses and grabs your foot, digging his thumb and index finger into a pressure point and you shriek in pain. “Get off me!”
He manhandles you on to your front and spreads himself out, practically laying on top of you. “Pipe down before I start knocking teeth out, you little bitch!” His breath is warm on your skin as he threatens you and then he bites the side of your neck again, much harder than he did back in the house.
You cry out in pain and your first thought is that the bite is going to leave a hell of a mark. The rough treatment so far already has you turned on and you go still because ultimately you do want to be tied up. Shawn pushes himself up and then you feel him shift around so that he’s facing your feet while being astride your thighs. He goes back to work with the rope and you’re actually surprised by his efficiency because in what seems like a short minute he has you secured in a hogtie position.
He climbs off you and you try an experimental pull at the bonds but of course you can’t get out of it. You’re still breathing hard and whimper through clenched teeth as he rocks you on to your side and gropes you again.
“Can’t wait to unwrap all this,” He comments, closing a hand around one of your breasts. “Get hold of these tits properly. If I didn’t have a schedule to keep, I’d take you right here.”
“Please…” You keep your voice quiet, mindful of his earlier threat. “You don’t have to do this.”
He laughs, rolling you abruptly back on to your front before slapping the side of your thigh. “You’re right; I don’t.” He moves away and you hear him climbing down from the truck bed, boots crunching on the gravel. “I don’t,” He says again and you hear a clunk. “I sure want to, though.” He adds as he begins to pull the truck’s tonneau cover into place. “And I can’t wait for the party to get started.” He slides the cover home and you’re plunged into darkness.
Even though the cover muffles the sounds, you still hear him climb into the cab, slam the door and start the engine. Your heart is pounding and your brain is going a mile a minute, only to settle on the thought that it’s warm out and you don’t know how long you’re going to be in here. As if on cue, you feel a breeze and realise that Shawn’s truck must have AC into the back - thank god.
At first you try to keep track of the turns that he’s making in an attempt to figure out where he’s taking you but in your puddle of blankets it’s hard to feel things properly and of course he could be taking all kinds of turns just to disorientate you. Underneath everything else that’s going on, there’s a constant current of arousal - this is actually happening…
TTT
Previous | Next
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NOTES
OK - as I’ve done my best to present in the first part of this, CNC is usually considered to be edge play and it can be a major mind fuck. Serious negotiations need to be made for a CNC scene and participants should be ready for it to not go as planned, because you really don’t know how people are going to react to an intense experience.
The flippant little comment Shawn makes about someone seeing a ‘kidnap’ take place? Yeah… really not so flippant. I was once at an event and a couple there who were into edge play recounted a tale about the time they had set up an abduction scene with a third person and it was all going great until the police came knocking. Someone had seen them taking their ‘abductee’ into the venue and called the police. This resulted in the three of them being taken to the police station where they were immediately interviewed separately at great length. Of course, as the scene had been pre-negotiated they were all able to give the same full and accurate account that everything was consensual, what had been planned, etc. If my memory serves me correctly they had also all written an account as well, signed and dated, and sealed in separate envelopes. This helped them massively because the police were (quite rightly) keen to make sure that everyone involved was safe and happy. But yeah… mood killer to say the least.
I’ve taken some liberties with the kidnap. You shouldn’t ever leave someone alone while they’re in bondage, and really not hogtied in the back of a truck. Cramp is a thing, etc. So yeah - please don’t do as I’ve written.
So, yes. Planning is crucial. Ongoing enthusiastic consent from all parties is crucial. Safe words are crucial.
Because sometimes, Taker circa 1998 just needs some head canon… I mean, it *might* make him at least pay rent to be in my head, right?
————
You’re minding your business when he comes and stands behind the couch
Lowers a piece of paper in front of your face
“What’s this little girl?”
Your heart stops. It’s that list you found online and printed out.
And then completed it.
You’ve been wanting to tell him for ages about the things you’re wanting to try in the bedroom.
Trouble is, he’s such a perfect gentleman that you know he’d never agree to it.
Slapping, spanking you, name calling and more.
Despite his work persona, that kind of behaviour just isn’t him.
So you’ve kept it as a fantasy.
You turn a deep shade of red as you realise he’ll have read the list.
He sits down on the couch next to you.
“You like this sort of thing, little girl?”
You draw your knees up to your chin - yup, he thinks you’re a pervert.
He nudges you. “Well?”
You mumble into your knees; something about being curious.
“Why didn’t you just come to me?”
“Because you think it’s weird,” you mutter.
He reaches over and takes hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Did I say that, little girl?”
You shake your head ‘no’ and actually meet his eyes.
He doesn’t look disgusted.
He indicates the list. “You want to try some of this?”
You stare at him.
“Only if you want to. I don’t want you to be weirded out.”
He laughs. Actually laughs.
“Little girl, I’ve been around the block.”
You stare some more and then say what’s bothering you.
“But I don’t want to force you. That kind of stuff… it’s not you.”
He slips his arm around you.
“What makes you think that I wouldn’t enjoy it? Little girl, with your consent I would have zero problem with paddling your ass red and then tying you down to fuck you raw. Among other things.”
Your blush renews fiercely and your stomach flips at his turn of phrase.
“You’ve never said…” You say quietly.
It’s his turn to shift uncomfortably.
“Well, I guess we’re both guilty of keeping secrets. Same as you, little girl - I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel… weird.”
He turns his attention back to the list.
“Using titles, huh?”
You nod and blush some more, burying your face in your drawn-up knees.
His hand shifts from your back and slides into your hair, taking a handful in his fist. Not overly hard, but certainly firm and he uses the hold to lift your head up again.
Hair-pulling is something else that you’d ticked on the list.
“When we do this, you’ll call me ‘sir’”.
His voice is low and serious and that’s when you realise that he’s not kidding - he’s got some experience with this.
Your stomach flips again and you make a tiny noise of assent.
Wait - he said ‘when we do this’!
He lets go of your hair and cuddles you to him, pulling you in close so you can look at the list together.
He points to the section headed, ‘Impact Play’.
“You’ve ticked pretty much everything here, little girl.”
Embarrassed, you turn your head in towards his shoulder.
“Curious,” you mumble again.
“Ohhh, that’ll be fun,” he mutters and curiosity peaked, you look back at the paper but he doesn’t elaborate.
“How much of this have you already done?”
He kisses the top of your head. “I’ve done plenty.”
Spawned from the head canon that I dumped on here, it’s now turning into an opportunity to get down on paper (screen) all manner of Taker smut. If you happen across this, and have any ideas for scenarios, feel free to let me know.
TTT
The List - The Beginning
You’re sat at one end of the couch, intent on the TV show you’re watching when your view is suddenly obscured by a piece of paper being lowered in front of your face. Confused, you look up and around at him as he stands behind the couch.
“What’s this, little girl? I just found it in the den.”
You look back at the paper and your heart stops as you finally recognise it. You remember finding the list online and you’d been so intrigued that you’d printed off and completed it, idly wishing that you could find a way to tell him about it. You’d set it to one side and forgotten until now.
It was one of those lists full of kinks, where you work through and say how interested you are in each one. There’s so much that you want to try, but you just don’t know how to bring it up with him. The problem is that despite his work persona, in reality he’s a perfect gentleman and you know that he’d just never agree to things you’ve ticked on the list. Slapping, spanking, name-calling… and that’s just for starters - that type of behaviour just isn’t him. You feel yourself turning a deep shade of red as you realise that of course he’s read it all and wonder what he must think of you. He moves around and sits down next to you and gestures with the piece of paper.
“You like this sort of thing, little girl?”
You bite your lip and draw your knees up to your chin, refusing to answer. You knew it - he thinks you’re a pervert.
He nudges you gently. “Well?”
You mumble an answer into your knees. “‘M just curious about some stuff, that’s all.”
He reaches across and squeezes your knee. “Why didn’t you just come to me and ask?”
You glance over but don’t actually look at him before staring back down at your knees as you reply, “Because you think it’s weird.”
He takes hold of your chin between his thumb and index finger and forces you to look at him.
“Did I say that, little girl?”
You shake your head, ‘no’ and actually meet his eyes, surprised to find that he doesn’t actually look disgusted. He releases your chin and indicates the list.
“You wanna try some of this?”
You can only stare at him in surprise. He’s actually entertaining the idea? He sees the look on your face and he laughs - actually laughs. “Little girl, I’ve been around the block.”
You stare some more and then manage to get out what’s bothering you. “But… I don’t want to force you to do this stuff. It’s not you.”
He slips his arm around you and you enjoy the weight of it for a second and then he speaks.
“What makes you think that I wouldn’t enjoy it? Little girl, with your consent I would have zero problem paddling your ass red and then tying you down to fuck you raw. Among other things.”
Your blush returns fiercely and your stomach flips at his turn of phrase but you can’t help saying quietly, “You’ve never said.”
It’s finally his turn to look slightly uncomfortable. “Well, I guess we’re both guilty of keeping secrets. Same as you, little girl - I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel… weird.”
He turns his attention back to the list and glances over it. “Using titles, huh?”
You nod and blush some more, burying your face into your drawn-up knees but he’s having none of it. His hand shifts from your back and slides into your hair, taking a handful in his fist. Not overly hard, but certainly firm and he uses the hold to lift your head up again. You swallow a moan - hair pulling is something else that you’d ticked on the list.
“I asked if you like the idea of using titles,” he says and unable to nod you close your eyes and whisper in the affirmative. His hold becomes tighter and he gently pulls your raised head back. “Yes, what?”
Oh god, he’s actually doing it. Your stomach flips over again and feeling suddenly shy, you force the words out.
“Yes, sir.” You don’t remember ever being this turned on in your life - you can feel the rush of moisture in your core.
“When we do this, that’s what you call me, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” You say again, the words coming more easily this time although all you can think is, ‘He said when we do this…’
He lets go of your hair and cuddles you to him, pulling you in close so you can look at the list together. He points to the section headed, ‘Impact Play’ and says, “You’ve ticked pretty much everything here, little girl.”
Feeling embarrassed, you turn your head in towards his shoulder. “Curious,” you mumble into his t-shirt.
“Ohhh, that’ll be fun,” he mutters and you lift your head to try and see what he’s referring to but he doesn’t elaborate.
“How much of this have you already done?” You ask him, and he leans over and kisses the top of your head.
“I’ve done plenty,” he says. “How about you?”
“Nothing except think about it.” You reply, still not able to fully process the events of the past few minutes, plus you’re in a fog of lust.
He grabs you then, pulling your upper body to sprawl across him and he’s unbuttoning your jeans to work his hand inside the denim, under the waistband of your panties and then his fingers slide over your incredibly slick flesh and he growls low.
“So wet… just from that, little girl?”
“Uh huh…” You manage to reply, and tilt your hips to try and get him to press against your clit but he stops short and withdraws his hand, licking your fluid from his fingers and then carries on as though nothing happened.
“I’m gonna hold on to this,” he says, waving the list. “And I’m gonna give you some homework.”
“Homework?” You tilt your head to one side and look at him with a frown of confusion.
“Over the next couple of days I want you to read up on kink relationships. Think about your limits and be prepared to talk to me about them.”
Still in something of a daze, you nod and he smirks.
“But not right now, because we’re having an early night.”
It’s only been a few days since he happened across the list you’d accidentally left on the desk - one of those, ‘which fetishes you’d like to try’ things. You about died when he first dangled it in front of your face, but it led to a very enlightening conversation which you only realised after the fact was a form of negotiation. Turned out that he had his own proclivities that he’d never mentioned and that they matched up pretty darn well with yours. He even gave you a couple of tasters right then and there - pulled your hair a little, had you call him ‘sir’ a few times and then when he slid his hand into your panties chuckled low to find you were sat in a puddle.
“So wet just from that? Oh, little girl the next few weeks are gonna be fun.”
When you went to bed that evening he pushed the envelope a little more, telling you not to come until he said so - until he gave you permission. As turned on as you were it wasn’t easy and yet at the same time you were in heaven - you’d fantasised about this for so long and when he finally gave the word you came so hard you saw stars.
The next couple of days he didn’t make any moves, but threw the odd teasing comment your way just to keep you guessing. On the third day he ups the ante again, taking his opportunity when you’re stomping around the kitchen in a mood about something or other.
“You’re being awfully bratty tonight, little girl.” He’s leaning against the counter with his arms folded.
“What are you talking about?” You snap, looking round at him with a glare. However, as soon as you see his expression the glare melts away and you bite your lip.
“Finish up with those dishes and then get your ass in the living room.” Despite the finality of his words, he doesn’t move and you realise that he’s waiting for an answer.
“Um… OK.”
He takes a few strides across the kitchen and puts a hand either side of you on the edge of the sink, effectively hemming you in as he leans down. “What was that, little girl?”
You can feel his body heat and with him standing so close have no choice but to inhale his scent; leather, whiskey and his natural musk - it’s intoxicating. Your mind races, realising that this is game on and you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as you lift your gaze from his chest.
“Y - Yes, sir.”
He nods once and stands up again. “You got 2 minutes.”
He leaves the room and you stand in mild shock until his voice drifts through from the living room.
“Minute and a half and counting!”
Damnit, damnit, damnit… You load up the rest of the dishwasher in a hurry, and then grab a bottle of water and chug some down to try and alleviate your dry throat, reflecting that maybe the moisture has vanished because it’s rapidly all heading south. You’re standing with your eyes closed taking some deep breaths when his voice comes again…
“Ten… nine… eight…”
You dart from the kitchen and arrive at the door to the living room just before he reaches ‘three’. He’s sat in the middle of the couch, arms stretched out along the top and with his legs spread. Unsure what to do, you stand awkwardly in front of him twisting one foot against the floor.
“Stand still.”
You freeze and unable to hold his gaze you let your eyes drop to his lap instead and you study the way the black denim is pulled taut across his crotch.
“You know how I deal with bratty behaviour, little girl?” His voice is fairly neutral and while you have a pretty good idea of his angle here, your heart is pounding in your chest and you just about manage to whisper a reply.
“No, sir.”
His hands drop from the back of the couch to rest either side of him and he sits up a little straighter.
“Get over my lap.”
You swallow and take a step towards him, suddenly unsure of the mechanics of getting into position. Feeling ungainly, you kneel on the sofa and then crawl across his thighs before lowering yourself down. He manhandles you gently to get you set how he wants and then brushes your hair out of your face as he says quietly, “Remember your colours.”
The first time his hand lands, it’s really only a tap on top of your sweatpants - as though he’s getting you used to the concept. A few more follow, slightly harder and all you can think is that you wish your clothes weren’t in the way. Are you allowed to ask him to pull them down? It doesn’t feel like you are, because he’s set this whole thing up like you’re in trouble. You agonise over it for a few more moments and then he speaks.
“Give me a colour, baby.”
“Green,” you say quickly. “Everything’s green, sir - please don’t stop!”
“Oh, you want more, huh? Let’s see if you keep saying that once I get rid of this protection.” So saying, he grasps the waistband of your sweats and drags them down to your knees along with your underwear.
You moan and arch at the feeling of his hand brushing over your naked ass and then squeak as his palm connects - it’s different now because there’s a sting to it. He gives you a half dozen more all in the same spot and your feet come up reflexively only to be shoved back down.
“Keep still, brat - you got no need to be kicking up dust by this point.”
He starts to cover your entire butt with well-aimed strikes and after another seven or eight that hit the same place your hand comes back instinctively to try and protect yourself.
“Nuh uh uh!” He moves your hand back and captures both your wrists easily in one large hand and holds them down. “You earned this little girl and you’re gonna take it.”
Despite the pain… or maybe because of it, you know that you’re wet and start to think that if you can shift in the right way then you’ll be able to get a little friction just where you need it, but as if reading your mind he shifts his legs and repositions you so that there’s nothing beneath your mound but thin air. You groan in frustration and the force of the blows dies right down and he squeezes your wrists gently.
“What colour we on?”
“Greennnn…” you moan out and he chuckles and seemingly moves up a gear, raining blows down in no particular rhythm, even placing several on the tops of your thighs. Your legs kick again and he allows it for a short time, but then he shifts suddenly and clamps them down underneath one of his own.
You can really feel it now but the whole situation is just delicious - the helplessness, while still knowing that you’re completely safe. The constant throb in your backside is an unbelievable turn on and you think that if you could get some pressure on your clit you could die happy.
“Think you’re ready to stop being a brat now?” His voice rumbles from above you.
“If I say no, will you keep going?”
He ceases all movement. You lift your head in confusion, trying to look back and up at him as you wonder what’s going on.
“You think that’s the right way to ask for more, little girl?”
You bite your lip and blush with embarrassment at what is undoubtedly a telling off, but his stern tone makes your stomach flip over in a very pleasant way. You decide to try again.
“Sorry, sir… please don’t stop?”
“Seems to me if you’re enjoying this, then it’s not much of a punishment.” His voice is teasing now.
You start to feel desperate. “I don’t know what you want me to say, sir!”
“What was my original question, hm?”
You mentally part the fog in your brain and you’re about to answer when he strokes his hand over your backside and it comes out in a gasp, “Am I ready to stop being a brat!”
He chuckles. “And are you?”
You nod frantically, “Yes, sir!”
“Then I suppose I can give you a few more as a reward for learning your lesson.” He gives your wrists another gentle squeeze and then releases them. “Make sure you keep ‘em there, or I’ll stop.” You’re lamenting losing the restrained feeling when he instead takes hold of your hair and winds it around his fist, dragging your head up gently. You moan hungrily at the new sensation and then the smacks come raining down again. They’re definitely harder than they were before… or maybe it’s just that he’s been at it for a while now. You still try to kick occasionally, but with his huge leg pinning yours there’s no way to overpower it.
You dimly become aware that the blows have stopped and he’s just rubbing your backside gently, though his hold on your hair is still in place.
“Green…” you say quietly, with a slight slur.
He gives one cheek a squeeze and you gasp. “I know, baby. Spanking’s over now.” He goes back to rubbing and then says, “If I put you to stand in the corner, what colour d’you think that would be?”
You get a sudden vision of what he’s proposing and breathe out with a moan. “Green…”
“OK then. C’mon, up you get.” He helps you up off his lap and you pull your sweatpants back up, wincing slightly as they rub over your sensitised skin. With a gentle hand on the back of your neck he takes you to the corner, guiding you in until your nose is nearly touching the wall. “Hands on your head,” he says and you comply and then suddenly turn part way around again when he pulls your sweats and underwear back down.
“I wanna be able to see my handiwork, little girl. Back around now, go on.”
You do as you’re told and stare at the wall as you hear him return to the couch and sit down. You feel a bit silly stood there with your pants around your ankles but at the same time you like the idea of him wanting to look at you. You’re fairly sure this is supposed to come under the ‘humiliation’ header on the list, but you don’t exactly feel humiliated by it.
The TV comes on and he starts to channel hop, eventually settling on some kind of motorcycle show - sounds like restoration. You continue to stand, trying to keep still since you’re pretty sure that fidgeting won’t be allowed. You thought you’d be able to drift off inside your own head, but instead you find yourself wondering whether he’s watching you or not, how long you’ve been stood here, how long he plans to leave you here…
You eventually start to feel antsy and don’t realise at first that one of your heels is tapping against the floor. He evidently realises though because his gravelly voice drifts across the room to you.
“Give me a colour, little girl.”
You’re not bored, but you feel a little bit lonely even though he’s right there. You contemplate for a couple of seconds and then say quietly, “Amber.”
He gets up straight away and walks over to you, turning you around to face him and taking your hands in his.
“What do you need, baby?”
You look up at him with a shy half-smile. “I think I need to cuddle… Please, sir?”
He smiles too and then scoops you up with ease and carries you back over to the couch where he sits back down. He allows you to wriggle round until you get comfortable which is, laid with your body leaning against him, arm draped over his chest. He envelopes you in his huge arms and kisses the top of your head.
“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me anymore; you just take some time to come back to yourself - I think you’re floating a little bit.”
You snuggle into him and murmur against his shoulder, “Is this aftercare?”
“Someone’s done their study like a good girl,” he says, kissing the top of your head again.
You close your eyes and smile. “Like that,” you say sleepily. “Like it when you call me that.”
A chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Looks like my little girl has a praise kink…”
“Is that a thing?”
“Well, there’s some more homework for you, right there…”
