“You’re lucky you cry so nice and pretty, Rhysie,” Jack spoke up in between two loud smacks of his belt, “else I would’ve really let you have it for being such a baby.”
Rhys thought that he was holding up pretty well, considering the fact that Jack had been at it for a good while now. His poor, flogged ass had almost stopped hurting in between strikes, sensation replaced with a sharp tingle, sensation stinging all the way into his spine. He sniffed and held tighter onto the forearms folded beneath his head, the burn of the rug on his elbows and knees only adding to the confusion of feelings inside his gut.
“Eyes up, Rhysie, how many times do I have to tell you,” Jack commanded after another slap, the buckle of the belt clinking against the floor for a moment before fingers wound in Rhys’ hair and tugged it upwards, forcing him to confront the sight he’d been trying to avoid.
Jack had pulled the floor length mirror from the other end of the bedroom to position it right in front of where Rhys had been pinned to the floor. He’d tried to avoid looking at it as Jack whipped his ass, knowing by the heat and wetness in his cheeks he was already crying, but with Jack’s fingers in his hair pulling his head up he had no choice.
He looked like a mess. His cheeks and eyes were bright red and puffy, a sharp contrast to the rest of his pale skin. His lips were pink and bitten and wet from spit that trailed down to the point of his chin. Rhys thought he looked completely debauched, but Jack let out an appreciative purr from somewhere above him.
“Damn. You really are cute like this. A sight like that makes me feel a lil’ more forgiving.” Rhys could feel Jack’s finger rub over the tender spots on his ass, touch a hair kinder than it’d been before. “Maybe you’re finally ready to be screwed like a good boy.”
“Y-Yes, please,” Rhys moans, looking up beyond his crying face in the mirror and where he could see Jack crouched over him. Though the dim light he could see Jack had opened the fly of his pants and let out his cock, the belt tossed off to the side, and Rhys felt like he could cry in relief if he hadn’t already exhausted all the tears in his body.
“Thank you daddy, yes, please, I’ll be good…” Rhys begged, swallowing roughly as he watched Jack finally get on his knees. Even the rough hands on his ass felt good as Jack pulled his hips up to his crotch and rubbed his shaft against the whipped flesh.
Gonna get you crying in pleasure in just a moment, kiddo. Keep your eyes forward, it’s gonna be quite a show,” Jack chuckled as he spread Rhys’ cheeks, taking a moment to enjoy their reflection in the mirror before he pushed in.
I wasn’t able to post anything for kinktober yesterday so it’s two for one today! Aand it worked out since we all know jack wouldn’t be able to spank Rhys without some dirty talk anyway ;3
why do i keep having to say this, starbucks employees arent spelling your name wrong on purpose for “advertising” why do people believe this? we’re taught to try to spell names right or ask not purposefully spell them wrong so you’ll post them on social media and all get a chuckle at Those Dumb Baristas
As a barista at Starbucks, we don’t spell names wrong on purpose. I have to remember like around 40 something new drinks/foods and what’s in them. Then remember the regulars’ names who get offended if you don’t remember their name and freaking drink. And that is just tiring honestly because I’m sorry I don’t know how to exactly spell your name which has five other spellings. I barely remember spelling my own name right after working five days in a row surviving off coffee and lack of sleep. Just be nice to baristas and just be nice to customers service workers. We just sleepy as heck.
Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
why do i keep having to say this, starbucks employees arent spelling your name wrong on purpose for “advertising” why do people believe this? we’re taught to try to spell names right or ask not purposefully spell them wrong so you’ll post them on social media and all get a chuckle at Those Dumb Baristas
Jack slid the flat of the blade along Rhys’ cock, a hairsbreadth away from the young man’s twitching, warm flesh. For once, Jack was a hell of a lot more nervous than Rhys was—his boyfriend looked down between his legs with a lot more lust than fear, his fingers clenched into the sheets with anticipation.
“God, Jack…” Rhys moaned at the press of the cool knife against his sock, a visible shiver running up his spine. He was so into it, and so was Jack, but he hadn’t expected his soft little cupcake to be into having a sharp blade so close to his most sensitive area.
“You…you really like this, don’t you sugar?” Jack mumbled, his breath wafting against the side of Rhys’ shaft. He kept his eyes on the blade, careful not to let it knick his boyfriend’s skin as he leaned in and began to mouth against Rhys’ cock.
“C-Course….I trust you…” The young man gasped at the dual touch, hands sliding up to his pillow to grasp tightly into the fabric. His hips pushed up in need, nearly causing the knife to slice into his skin. Jack pulled it a sliver away at the last second, his breath catching in his lungs.
“Jeez, Rhysie….you really are something, aren’t you?” Jack whispered incredulously against the side of Rhys’ cock, breathing coming a little bit faster as his stomach knotted with both arousal and anxiety. Rhys’ body shook with a laugh that edged a bit into hysteria, his eyes a little wild and a lot encouraging, enough so that Jack began to kiss and lick up and down the side of his boyfriend’s shaft.
“W-What? You get to be a freak every other day of the week—let me have this—“ Rhys moaned as Jack trailed the knife to the base of his cock, tickling the tip over his balls as he pushed his mouth over the head, letting it sink between his lips.
Worrisome as it was to risk potentially neutering Rhys, Jack couldn’t deny he looked damn good willingly pushing to the very limits of safe and sane.
TheSpaceCoyote 