Kinktober Day 6: Daddy Kink, Corset

Rhys gasped as he felt the fabric and fastenings of the corset start to tighten one more about his waist, forcing his straight torso inwards. He lay back against the bed, arms stretched out over his head as he patiently watched over his shoulder as Jack fawned over the corset.

“You’re looking beautiful, sugar,” Jack purred, placing one hand on Rhys’ bare shoulder blade as the other temporarily stilled, playing with the loose end of the cord as if debating whether he should tighten it further. “How you feeling? You want it tighter? You could have a beautiful, tiny little waist if we went a little tighter, sweetie.”

Rhys smirked playfully at the tone in Jack’s voice—he really was enjoying this, dressing Rhys up in such a pretty, bright blue corset. Rhys loved the color, Jack loved how well it complemented his tattooed skin. He played with the soft fabric of the pillow beneath his cheek as he looked back behind himself at his boyfriend.

“Think…I can go a little bit more. Just be gently, daddy,” Rhys purred, feeling Jack’s fingers stutter over the cord as he started to lace it tighter. Rhys’ smirk curled properly cat-like, pleased at how he could wind Jack up with just a couple words and a coy look. Not that Jack really needed to be wound—Rhys had already spotted the boner in his pants and prayed he’d decide to do something about it once he was finished fashioning Rhys a waist.

“Gentle as a butterfly, sweetheart,” Jack practically moaned as he pulled the corset tighter, cinching Rhys’ sides in further. Rhys let out a small gasp as the fabric pulled around him, holding his middle together in a flexible hug.

“Oooh yes, yes daddy, that feels nice,” Rhys cooed as he watched Jack deftly tie off the cord and sit back on his heels. Jack rubbed his chin, eyes roving up and down Rhys’ back.

“Lets turn you around, Rhysie…I wanna see how it looks.”

Rhys pushed himself up off the bed and turned over, reclining back on his elbows. His long legs stretched out against the yellow coverlet, painted toes wiggling playfully as Jack moved back to straddle his thighs.

“What do you think?” Rhys trailed his fingers down the front of his corset, leading Jack’s eyes over every little baby blue bow.

“Think I’ve got a beautiful boy here.” Jack lightly grasped Rhys’ hand before pushing it away and replacing it with his own. The added pressure of the broad palm against Rhys’ cinched waist made him squirm, his own cock hardening in his briefs.

“And now that I’ve got you all bound up and beautiful…” Jack growled, eyes darkening with lust as he leaned over Rhys’ prone form, “I’m gonna take my sweet time making you unravel.”

Kinktober Day 5: Sadism/Masochism

Typically Jack was the one who liked to drag his teeth and nails all over Rhys’ body—he could hardly resist, not when Rhys scratched and bruised so beautifully.

But sometimes he liked to experience new things, and when he slipped his fingers into Rhys’ mouth, only for his boyfriend to clamp down and bite them, something new spiked up in his groin.

“Oh, baby, got some nasty little chompers on you huh?” Jack purred at the pain lancing through his fingers. Rhys had already released them, looking a little ashamed of himself for biting his boyfriend, but Jack’s eyes already glittered with lust and interest.

“Those things can really do some damage….you been holding out on me, sweetheart?” Jack pressed his thumb against Rhys; upper lip, pushing it out of the way to examine those pearly whites a little further. Rhys’ smile always looked dazzling, but now that Jack new how badly they could hurt he paid his teeth a little more mind.

“Wh…what’re you doing?” Rhys mumbled, eyebrows furrowing together at Jack’s sudden fixation. They’d been in the middle of their usual foreplay when Rhys bit his fingers, but now Jack had a new plan.

“I wanna see what else you can do with that little mouth of yours, sweetheart. You know, really let me have it.” Jack tilted his chin up and exposed his neck, pointing towards the soft skin of his throat to drive the point further home. “C’mon. Nothing wrong with trying something new, huh?”

Soon enough Jack got Rhys on top of him, straddling his hips as he laid back against the bed, taking Rhys’ usual position. Jack kept his hands on his boyfriend’s ass, squeezing it tight as Rhys brought his lips against Jack’s neck. He could feel the hesitation in Rhys’ breath, the young man less practiced than his partner when it came to dishing out the rougher sort of fun.

“C’mon, Rhysie, don’t be shy,” Jack mumbled, giving Rhys’ rear an encouraging little pinch. “Go on, really give it to me.”

Finally Rhys opened his jaw wider, lips pulling over those perfect teeth. Jack shuddered with newfound pleasure as Rhys pressed the points of his canines against his skin, testing its give a moment before biting down properly.

“Yes,” Jack growled at the sudden pressure and fine pinpricks of pain, his fingers digging harder into Rhys’ ass, “god, harder Rhysie, harder.”

Now with the taste of Jack’s blood in his mouth, Rhys had no problems biting deeper into his boyfriend’s neck.

Kinktober Day 5: Shotgunning

Sometimes, when Rhys got into a particular state of mind, all he wanted to do was to sit in Jack’s lap, no matter what he was busy with. Jack never found himself particularly opposed to it, not even now, when he was winding down with one of his nice cigars. Jack didn’t smoke all that often, but today he’d just been itching for one of them.

Rhys walked in just as he started to light it up, though he didn’t bother to stop as his boyfriend approached the desk. Rhys had one of his favorite outfits on—a nice pair of jean shorts and a blue crop top that showed off a nice fat sliver of his belly. Jack liked it plenty too. Lots of exposed skin, and not too complicated to get off.

“What are you doing, daddy?” Rhys circled around the desk and slid into Jack’s lap as soon as he got close enough, one arm hooking playfully around his neck. The CEO smirked, one hand going to its customary place on Rhys’ lower back as he cradled the smoldering cigar with the other.

“Nothing much, sweetie. Just relaxing.” Jack leaned in to press a small kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth. Rhys chased him as he pulled away, licking his lips and keeping close.

“You taste really good, daddy…” Rhys’ eyes drifted to the cigar smoking between Jack’s fingers. “That must be it…can I try?”

Jack’s looked from the cigar to Rhys, a good-natured chuckle rumbling up from his chest. He relaxed further into his chair, thoroughly enjoying Rhys’ behavior.

“I dunno, sugar, it might be too much for you…don’t want you to cough those pretty pink lungs out, huh?” Jack’s hand slowly drifted up his boyfriend’s back, tickling his spine beneath the clingy thin fabric of his crop top. Rhys feigned a pout and lightly kicked his legs.

“Awww, come on. Please? Please, daddy?”

Jack had never been serious about denying him, but he still cocked his head and pretended to think.

“Well…actually, I think I’ve got a plan that’ll work out.” Jack’s hand urged Rhys to sit a little closer as he brought the cigar to his lips. The smoldering tip glowed bright for a moment as Jack inhaled, holding the smoke in his mouth. He rested the cigar in the ashtray on his desk as he turned back to Rhys, his fingers running up to tangle in the boy’s hair as he brought their lips together.

Rhys made the most delectable sound as Jack breathed the smoke out into his mouth, sharing the spice and burn between them. He squirmed in his lap, thighs sliding attractively together as he relished in the feeling of Jack’s lips on his and the smoke filling his mouth, drifting down his throat and up into his nose.

When Jack finally pulled away Rhys eyes looked dazed and his smile spread in a lazy curve. His lips parted slightly, letting smoke curl out in pretty tendrils from both ends.

“Mmm, that was really nice,” Rhys purred as his tongue flicked out like a kitten’s. He lifted his finger to trail underneath Jack’s chin, brushing against the slight stubble.

“Yeah?” Jack’s hand fell from his hair down to the back of his neck where it squeezed, gentle yet possessive, with just the amount of pressure Rhys liked best. “You better say thank you, baby, since daddy shared his fancy cigar with you.”

“Oh, you’re right. Don’t want to forget my manners.” Rhys fingers brushed against Jack’s stomach as they trailed downwards. “Though a verbal thanks won’t be enough, I think.”

Jack spread his legs as Rhys’ hand rested atop his crotch, figuring he could always finish that cigar after Rhys was done properly thanking him.

Kinktober Day 4: Mirror Sex, Spanking, Dacryphilia

“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.

Kinktober Day 3: Edgeplay, Knifeplay

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.

Kinktober Day 3: Temperature Play, Sensory Deprivation

Sometimes, R&D invented something Jack wanted to test out personally first, before it got properly released to the public.

Usually he would take some of the fancier guns out, or occasionally play with grenade mods with an especially fun side-effect, but today he was delving into something a little bit different.

He turned the glowing blue shield over in his hands, feeling the chill of the metal surrounding the cryogenic core. He’d turned down the intensity of the effect already but it was still cold to the touch. Jack half-wondered if he should try to turn it down even further, but he was getting impatient.

The effect was immediate when Jack clipped it onto his lapel. He felt a cool sheen spread out from his core down to the tips of his fingers, like he’d just been dunked in a pool of frigid water. His skin tingled but his core stayed surprisingly warm, preventing any detrimental effects of the new shield.

Huh. Interesting.

Shield now equipped, he turned his attention to his poor PA, twitching and squirming all naked on the desk as he struggled to be patient with his ears and eyes taken away from him. Much as Jack loved seeing the lust in Rhys’ eyes, he looked damn attractive with the golden blindfold laid across his face, and the earmuffs clamped around his head drove it home how much Rhys would rely on the sense of touch alone to get off.

Jack raised his hand up before his own eyes with a smirk, a little flutter of cryogenic energy blossoming from his fingers as he stroked them together. He could see the goosebumps on Rhys’ bare thighs already rising, the activation of the new shield already bringing the temperature of the office down a couple of degrees.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” Jack spoke as a force of habit—it didn’t really matter that Rhys’ ears were covered anyway, considering he just liked to hear himself talk. It took only one long strider to get from his chair to the desk, where Rhys’ legs hung off the edge at the knee. The PA’s cock had stiffened to half-mast while Jack had been busy preparing and activating the shield, still aroused from a few minutes ago, when Jack had disrobed him, tied his arms above his head, and took away his senses.

He started by touching Rhys’ lower thigh, just barely above the knee. The response was immediate—Rhys jolted atop the desk, one leg kicking out and barely brushing against Jack’s calf. His fingers curled into fists in their bonds and his head listed to the side, mouth open.

“A-agh….” Rhys voice trickled out, a strangle between pain and pleasure. Without use of his ears he couldn’t hear himself, couldn’t tailor the sounds he made due to embarrassment, and what came out instead sent anticipatory shivers up Jack’s spine. Oh, the noises he could wring out of his hapless PA.

He ran his hand further up Rhys’ thigh, fingers trailing delicate lines of chill up his quivering flesh. It earned him a slurred moan that grew louder in volume as he edged closer to Rhys’ erect cock, but instead of touching it just yet he drifted lower, to Rhys’ balls.

The PA’s spine twitched in a slight arch as Jack’s fingers lightly cupped his balls, the tips tickling at the tender flesh. They felt velvety smooth and warm to Jack’s chilled hand, though not for long, if Rhys’ shivers and shakes—and stiffening cock—were any indication. The contrast was lovely while it lasted, though.

“Looks like you could use a little warming up,” Jack chuckled as he moved his hand up, letting the chill emanating from his palm touch Rhys’ cock a moment before he properly grasped it. “Too bad I don’t think I’ll be able to help you much with that, though.”

“I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

i’m not a doctor and fanfic is not a place to learn proper first aid

Rhys has a bad habit of forgetting when and when not to use his cybernetic arm.

A great time is when Jack is on his back, trying to fend off the last of a pack of psycho who thought it fun to try to take a bite out of him. Jack’s already cursing his decision to venture pass the boundaries of Hyperion’s latest outpost, despite being lulled into a false sense of security thanks to the forested terrain. Of course there’d be creeps everywhere on this damn planet, even in areas he thought might be a little more lush and quiet.

This stinking, slobbering asshole just won’t get off of him, and worse yet the jagged, rusty edge of that buzz-axe is trending uncomfortably close to Jack’s throat. He grunts and snarls and tries to push the psycho off of him, but the guy’s bearing down with his full weight and Jack’s gun had been knocked away in the struggle, leaving him defenseless.

Thankfully, Rhys has enough sense to pick it up and aim it properly—unfortunately, in his haste Jack sees, in his periphery, his boyfriend hold its handle in only one hand. The fleshy, easy to damage one.

Jack’s gun is a new, heavy-duty assault rifle with a low magazine but high than average damage. The whole reason they had ventured from the outpost in the first place was because Jack had wanted to test it out on some unsuspecting fauna, see just how much heat it could pack out in the field. Jack remembers trying it out a few times back on Helios’ shooting ranges, and while the thing is powerful it needs careful as hell handling, so the gunman doesn’t end up mangled in the hospital instead of the target. It’s a two-handed kind of weapon, and Rhys is standing there holding it with one like it’s a frikkin’ peashooter.

Before Jack can shout a warning Rhys has fired, and he sees the violent kickback shred his boyfriend’s arm backwards moments before the psycho’s brains explode all over his vision. The buzzaxe sinks harmlessly into the dirt besides Jack’s head as the bloody corpse flops forward, nearly getting the CEO a mouthful of splattered brains and bits of skull. He shoves it off of him quickly before swaying to his feet, able to make out tense noises of pain even with the tinnitus ringing in his ears.

Jack can already tell as he rushes over to his boyfriend’s side that Rhys’ arm has been dislocated by the kickback. It flops limply against the ground like it’s holding on only by the skin of his shoulder. Rhys’ teeth are clenched, face flushed with pain he futilely tries holding back. Jack sinks to his knees beside him, knocking away the gun as he examines his boyfriend’s injury.

Even beneath his clothes the joint looks visibly out of alignment, so bad that Jack grits his teeth in a wince. He carefully places his hand against Rhys’ shoulder but even that slight movement causes cries of pain to finally break free and proper from Rhys’ lips. Tears bead up in the boy’s eyes, the dam now broken as sobs rock through his chest, the trembling not helping the pain in the dislocated arm.

“Easy, easy pumpkin, just stay still okay?” Jack croons, any pride he feels at Rhys blowing a psycho’s whacked-up brains out now dampened slightly by his boyfriend’s pain. There will be plenty of time for adulation later anyway, when Rhys is safe at home, properly fixed up and no longer suffering.

Jack purses his lips as he wracks his brain for a solution, or at least a first step to getting Rhys the help he needs, but its hard with the sobbing cries spilling unbidden from his injured boyfriend. He starts to pet back Rhys’ hair, combing it best as he can back into place.

“Hey kiddo, hey. Shhh. I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” Jack says, and he really does mean it. Even if he really wishes Rhys had remembered to use both hands on the rifle, the guy who was two seconds away from sawing Jack’s head off is dead, and as much as a dislocated arm sucks it could’ve been a lot worse for the both of them.

Though he’s still going to have to deal with it before Rhys can feel any better.

“Jack, please can’t….can’t you fix it…?” His boyfriend moans, voice broken by pain. Jack worries his lip as he places his other hand on Rhys’ injured bicep.

“Yeah, I can…I’ll try, sugar, but it’s gonna hurt a lot before it gets better, okay?” He whispers, dredging up old first aid knowledge he recalls from his younger years, before he became rich enough to pay others to risk life and limb for him. Rhys’ eyes widen, fear momentarily overtaking the look of pain.

“W-what? How…how much more can it possibly hurt?” He whines. Jack forces a reassuring smile and pats the side of Rhys’ cheek, clearing away a tear with a finger.

“I promise you you’re gonna feel a hell of a lot better once I pop this sucker back into place, okay?” Rhys’ fear doesn’t abate much as the reality of Jack’s suggestion sinks in, but after a long moment of panting and swallowing around the tense lump in his throat, Rhys finally nods.

“Just…just do it…get it over with…”

“That’s my boy.” Jack strokes Rhys’ face one last time before bracing the hand against Rhys’ shoulder, with the other still squeezed firmly around his bicep. Jack takes a couple deep inhales, encouraging Rhys to breath with him in order to help calm him down.

“All right…” Jack starts, hands firm. “On the count of three…one…two—“

He doesn’t wait until three, bucking Rhys’ anticipation with a sharp pop as he works the arm back into his socket. Rhys screams as it happens, his spine arching up off the ground as fresh tears spring into his eyes. Jack hates himself for a brief moment thanks to the crushing noise of Rhys’ pain, but with the pass of a few seconds the screams dies down into a whimper. Rhys blinks rapidly and sniffs, the tears slowly drying up as the sharp pain fades into a memory.

“…Better?” Jack tries as he softly pats Rhys’ shoulder, and this time he doesn’t flinch. The relocated arm moves stiffly, but it moves as Rhys weakly twitches his fingers.

“Ah…little bit…” He croaks, but before he can exert himself any more Jack strips his own jacket off and starts tying the sleeves together. Rhys watches through a haze of lingering soreness and confusion until Jack loops the makeshift sling around his neck and carefully slides the injured arm inside.

“That’ll do….at least until we get back to the outpost. Get some proper painkillers into you. ‘Least I can do for my hero.”

“What?” Rhys asks blearily as Jack slides his hands underneath him, still able to hoist his boyfriend into a bridal carry, despite lingering aches and bruises from his fight with the psychos. He cradles Rhys’ weight against his chest, ensuring the arm isn’t jostled too bad as he walks.

“You forget about the little stunt that caused all this, kiddo?” Jack tilts his chin to look at Rhys as he starts moving back towards the outpost, barely visible above the tops of the trees. “Those guys would have had a real handsome head to stick on a pike if it weren’t for you blowing some lights out.”

“Oh…right…” Rhys nods, though he looks like he might conk out from exhaustion any moment. “Well…you’re welcome.”

“You’ve really gotta let me teach you how to properly shoot, though. Two hands next time, okay?”

“M’kay,” Rhys mumbles just as he slips into a light doze, head falling peacefully against Jack’s chest. The CEO snorts, already envisioning Rhys’ first proper training lesson as he ambles off towards the welcoming lights of the outpost.

Kinktober Day 2: Medical Play

Jack had laughed the first time he saw the nurse costume Rhys bought.

The costume didn’t look too bad, all things considered, but the concept was chuckle-worthy. He thought Rhys would make a pretty shitty nurse. Kid barely knew how to take care of himself, much left someone else. Rhys had got kind of annoyed when Jack had told him this, and tossed the costume into the closet, never to be seen again.

At least, that was what Jack thought. Until it was Rhys’ turn to pick something new to try in the bedroom.

And—all right. Rhys might be a crap nurse in reality, but he looked good in that outfit. The open blouse squeezed his chest together, as did the hem of his skirt to his thighs. His legs looked silky in those stockings, and years of wearing heeled boots helped him navigate the black pumps that came with the costume, even on the bedroom carpet. He sauntered over from the bathroom, placing one leg elegantly in front of the other in a way that had Jack’s boner already popping through his boxers. He wiggled with interest, wrists tugging against the leather restraints Rhys had bound to him before going to the bathroom to change.

“How’s my favorite patient?” Rhys spoke, voice struggling between peppy and sultry, but those long legs and sumptuous body made up for any lacking dialogue. “Feeling better, or do I need to give you another shot?”

Jack eyed the syringe as Rhys twirled it between his fingers, the vibrant red liquid splashing around. That’d been Rhys’ idea too, though Jack wasn’t exactly opposed to using aphrodisiacs, especially when it was a part of the whole image.

“I dunno, sweetheart, feeling a little bit more…fatigued than usual. Might need a little help to ‘get better’ if you know what I mean?” Jack lifted his head up of the pillow to smirk at his pretty “nurse.” Rhys nodded with a similar smile, putting one knee up on the bed as he grasped Jack’s wrist in his white-gloved palm and turned it over.

“You do look a little pale….don’t worry, this will put the color back into your cheeks…”

“Yeah? Maybe in some other areas, too.” Jack winked, the tent in his pants not escaping Rhys’ notice, though he tried to keep a straight face.

“Maybe…some patients have certain side effects to the medication….don’t worry, we’ll deal with those as they come,” he purred, uncapping the syringe and pressing the tip to the vein visible in Jack’s elbow. The CEO licked his lips in excitement at the little prick of pain, watching the red liquid slowly drain into his arm.

“You’ve got some wonderful bedside manner, darling,” Jack murmured as heat started to spread up his arm, his mind losing a little coherence as his arousal grew.

“Of course.” Rhys smiled as he tossed the now empty syringe into the garbage besides the bed, before shifting to straddle Jack’s hips, giving the CEO a perfect view down his shirt. “Now just lay back and relax, sir, and I’ll be sure to take care of your every need.”

Kinktober Day 2: Ass Worship, Begging

“Jack, please—“ Rhys moaned, frustrated arousal kept at bay thanks to the fact that Jack wouldn’t put his cock inside him already. He knew how much his boyfriend loved his ass, obsessed over it almost, but wouldn’t it follow that he’d want to fuck it already instead of just settling on groping and staring?

“All in good time, babe. Just gimme a second.” Jack already had his cock out and gripped in his hand but hadn’t bothered moving it in the past couple minutes, content to just slowly stroke it as his other hand rubbed and squeezed Rhys’ ass like he was testing the ripeness of a peach. Every once and awhile the boy’s heart would leap when Jack pulled one cheek to the side to appreciate Rhys’ eager, twitching hole, but he still hadn’t shoved his fucking cock inside!

“Why? Why can’t you just—ugh—!” Rhys tried to push back in some thoughtless attempt to get closer to Jack’s dick but the older man held steady and even gave Rhys a hard, warning pinch to his rear.

“So impatient,” Jack purred over Rhys’ pained and frustrated whimpers, fingers rubbing over the red mark on his tender skin, “I’m not interested in screwing impatient boys, Rhysie, so if you want my cock inside of you now you’re gonna have to really sweet-talk me.”

Rhys pouted, his eyes still welled up with tears from desperation and the harshness of Jack’s pinch, but at this point he’d do anything to get Jack to stop admiring his ass and start wrecking it like he was supposed to.

“Jack…” He tried to force the hurt and impatience from his voice, lowering it to something more seductive and needy. He looked over his shoulder, keeping his eyelashes at half mast and his lips slight parted. “Please….sir…I want you so much…I’m sorry for being so pushy, I just…I need…”

Rhys knew Jack liked “sir” almost as much as he liked “daddy,” the words highlighting Jack’s power, the imbalance between them. He didn’t care to play the part and pluck Jack’s fantasies if it got him what he wanted, though. For a moment Jack raised his brow, as if judging the authenticity of Rhys’ begging, but either he decided to believe it or he’d finally needed to get his exposed cock wet because he shifted on his knees and leaned over Rhys’ body, spreading his asscheek one last time—now with purpose.

“Yes, yes yes please,” Rhys moaned, his fingers clenching happily into the bedsheets as Jack’s cock pushed up against his hole, “thank god.”

“Thank me after it’s over, okay sweetheart?” Jack teased as he slid inside, hips rubbing up against Rhys’ ass and forcing gracious moans from his lips.

Kinktober Day 1: Masks, Face Sitting

Rhys was so drunk.

It’d been a bit of a rough week at work, and he’d been eager to let loose at the party properly. And thanks to the free bar and the masquerade theme—Rhys had chosen a pretty blue mask with plenty of crystals for himself—he wound up fairly uninhibited. Which might explain how he ended up in a random room with another man, clumsily straddling his new partner’s shoulders.

“Ohh,” Rhys moaned as something wet and firm pressed up against his hole, already slicked by lube and saliva. His fingers clenched atop his knees as his partner started to push his tongue inside of Rhys, making little appreciative humming noises that vibrated up his spine. Broad hands massaged Rhys’ bare thighs, holding him down as he worked him open.

Rhys’ hadn’t gotten a proper look at the guy’s face—thanks to both the drunken fuzziness and the fact that the stranger wore a mask, his golden and crested with peacock feathers—but his tongue and hands were skilled, already getting Rhys’ cock dripping at full attention. The young man moaned, lifting one hand off of his knee to wrap around his shaft, fumbling with numb fingers as he tried to jerk himself off.

His partner devoured him, alternating between thrusting between his cheeks and licking over Rhys’ taint until finally he came into his own hand, staining the cybernetic palm with cum as he threw back his head, his mask nearly falling off his face. He panted, body quivering with stimulation and legs unable to push himself off of his partner.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to, as the broad hands that’d been digging into his thighs now seized his hips, picking him up and tossing him on his back against the bed.

Rhys barely had a moment to catch his breath before the masked man loomed over him, rigid cock curving up from the depths of his undone pants, his eyes intense and hungry from within the elegant holes of the mask. He spread Rhys’ legs with ease, the young man loose and sensitive and willing to let his anonymous partner press the head of his cock against his wet, opened hole.

“My turn, pumpkin.”