Cabin Fever

by Roe Horvat

  Fully clothed, Vincent knelt on the bed by my left hip. He took the lube bottle and slathered his fingers. I watched, panting.

  Without preamble, he reached between my ass cheeks and pushed two fingers into me. I groaned with the shock of pleasure.

  Fuck yes, shove your whole fucking hand in there. God, yeah!

  “I heard you a few days ago... But I think you know that,” Vincent said.

  “Ungh…” His fingers were magic. I rocked back, impaling myself.

  “Fucking yourself with a dildo, huh?”

  “Ah. Yes.” I had trouble following his words when he filled my ass over and over.

  “I heard the slaps too. Desperate, horny slut.”

  He pushed in and out harder, rubbing over my gland. I vibrated with pleasure. My dick and balls ached, and my nipples tingled. Vincent. Vincent was going to fuck me.

  “I imagined it was you,” I mumbled, my tongue thick in my mouth.

  “Did you come thinking about my cock in your hole?”

  “Yes!”

  “You want the real thing?”

  He spread his fingers, stretching my hole, and I whined.

  “Please...”

  “A good spanking is what you need. For the tricks you pull, fucking brat.”

  Oh please, yes! He was amazing. “Please, Daddy. Beat me up and fuck me.”

  “I’m going to make you scream, boy.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  He pulled his fingers out, and a strangled sob of need tore out of me.

  He hit my ass then, one side, then the other, hard slaps with his broad palm, sending my hole aflutter.

  “Yes.” And he slapped me again, a quick succession of firm blows, making my skin burn. The stinging pain heightened my arousal until I thought I could come just from his rough hands spanking me silly.

  He stopped, though, just resting his hand on my ass, teasing, taunting.

  “Daddy!”

  Shit! That hurt. One more blow. Vincent’s strong hand made my ass jiggle. The other side. Again. Fucking hell.

  I loved it. He was giving me the hardest spanking of my life, beating my ass as I deserved it, and I loved it. He hit me twice more, and I screamed with euphoria. The pain brought me overwhelming relief, every sign of stress gone, wiped out by Vincent’s skillful hands. The only feeling left was lust, and I shivered with it.

  Vincent rose on his knees behind me, and I strained to see. Within seconds, the blunt head of his lubed cock was pressing on my hole. I didn’t need to relax, to focus on letting him inside me. My body knew. The tip popped in, and we both groaned.

  He circled his hips, stretching me farther with his fat cockhead. The pain shot up into my guts, then dissolved into warmth, and pure, distilled joy.

  “Daddy.” The endearment came naturally now. I wanted him to order me around. To fuck me and feed me his cum.

  And I wanted him to take care of me, make the fear go away…

  His cock pushing into my hole was the most fantastic sensation I’d ever experienced in my entire life. It was impossible and glorious. And it was Vincent. The dangerous, strong, gorgeous man breaching my body, forcing himself into me bare, staking his claim.

  He rocked his hips back and forth, inching deeper, and I whined and mewled for him. I was already so full.

  “Fucking… huge…” I mumbled into the sheets.

  “I’m only halfway, boy. You still think you can take me?”

  “Teach me, Daddy. Please, stretch my hole. I want to be good for you.”

  He tore deep into my body, and I could’ve exploded with the glorious mix of pain and pleasure.

  He fucked me hard, powerful strokes slicing me open, easy like a knife through melting butter. His hands kneaded my ass muscles as he filled me. Broken words spilled out of my mouth, and I thanked him for every inch of his beautiful cock. My hole clung to his flesh, the heat and hardness absolutely fucking perfect. He grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into my skin, and he thrust faster, taking me deeper. My body opened for him, every cell in my nervous system buzzing with joy. I knew I could take him. My whole life, I’d been getting ready for this, the pinnacle of pleasure. Of course, I could take him. He was everything I’d ever wanted in bed—the sex god of my dreams.

  Vincent’s voice changed, suddenly soft. “That’s it. You’re a good boy for Daddy. Such a beautiful, tight hole.”

  Oh, he was perfect. “I love your cock. Fucking love it…”

  “Then take it all.”

  He pulled out a little, then pushed back inside, filling me to the hilt. I cried out from pleasure and pain, my hole clenching around him, my dick throbbing, precum dripping onto the sheets. My balls drew up as I kept wailing for him.

  “Greedy hole. You need more?” He thrust again, his hips against my ass cheeks, the zipper from his open jeans scraping my naked skin.

  “Give me your cum. Please, Daddy,” I gasped, my voice breaking.

  My insides tightened around him, the orgasm just within reach. Vincent pounded into me.

  The explosion started where his fat cockhead dragged across my gland. I spasmed, a full-body orgasm wrecking me in waves, and I kept coming. He grabbed my legs and pulled them farther apart, and I lost purchase, landing flat on my belly. He shoved his cock into me over and over until I was mewling into the sheets, my limbs twitching. He fell on top of me, covering me with his big broad body, pushing me into the mattress, and his hips continued rolling, stuffing me full, an echo of my orgasm making me whimper for him with every thrust.

  His hips stuttered, and he pushed in to the hilt. He pulsed as deep inside me as anyone had ever been. He was filling me with his cum, in the very center of my body. I wished his seed could stay there, changing me from the inside.

  Vincent had only fucked my hole, brutally, without a kiss or a caress and with barely any foreplay. He’d just ruthlessly used my body. Yet sex had never felt this satisfying, this overwhelming.

  “This is what you needed, boy?” Vincent’s voice was gentle now. He was still hard, his huge cock tucked in my wet, relaxed hole. My ass cheeks ached from the spanking, and it was heaven.

  “Yes. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much,” I whispered, pushing my ass up a little, showing him my gratitude by clenching around him.

  He hummed and rocked into me, and I basked in the sensation.

  “Good boy.”

  After he pulled out, he massaged my pucker, soothing me, bringing me down. He told me to stay put and brought some cream from his room. He smeared it onto my ass cheeks and pulled the duvet over me. Sitting on my bed, he stayed, waiting for me to fall asleep. His quiet focus let me know Vincent had some experience in taking care of a sex partner after an intense scene.

  I would’ve been overjoyed that my bodyguard was an experienced kinkster with a mile-wide dominating streak, but the distance in him was forming already.

  He regretted what he’d done.

  I pretended to sleep so he’d leave.

  6

  His eyes

  Vincent

  Nothing had been Michael’s fault. I’d been weak, and my attraction to him had made me lose my composure. I’d behaved grossly unprofessionally, shortsighted and reckless like a rookie. Bloody hell and all the demons, had I really spanked a client? Only I was to blame. For the first time in almost twenty years, I couldn’t rely on my own principles and self-control.

  Michael Bourgeon broke me.

  When he offered me his body, I gathered all my anger, all my doubts and self-deprecation, and I took it out on him. The act felt almost barbaric. Michael’s pink little pucker looked so tight and innocent. When I breached him and stretched his rim wide, I couldn’t believe my eyes. His ass swallowed me, pulled me in. I thought I must be tearing him up inside as I held his slim hips in my hands, plunging deep into his guts, but he took it easily, sobbing with ecstasy. He came without touching himself, and when I continued drilling into him, chasing my release, he purred like a kitten. It was ludicrous; I changed the arr
ogant brat into a nice, obedient boy, using only my hard cock. However, I knew he had it in him. I’d known from the first day. Anytime I gave him an order, his pupils blew wide, and his big green eyes became dark and deep, full of want and passion… I never stood a chance.

  Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much.

  Good boy.

  Then I pulled out and stared in awe at what I’d done. His pucker gaped open, the rim red from abuse, my cum glistening in the stretched hole. I did that. I ruined that pretty pink bud and turned it into a filthy, fucked-out hole. The image was etched in my brain. I covered his open hole with my fingertips, rubbing it soothingly, listening to his contented hums before I finally stood from the bed.

  Michael’s back rose with relaxed breaths, and he sighed with satisfaction. I left him lying there, in his cum, sprawled over his bed, naked while I hadn’t even taken off my jeans.

  Without a word, I zipped up, went to my room, grabbed the aloe cream I had with me for burns and stings, and returned, every action on autopilot. I smeared the cream onto Michael’s red ass and waited until he fell asleep.

  I felt only relief when I finally closed the door of his room behind me, leaving him there alone. When I didn’t see him, I could pretend it never happened. After changing into my pajama pants, I lay down in my bed and slept like the dead.

  Except I could never take back what I’d done, nor could I ever forget the feeling of Michael’s body underneath and around me.

  I went running, then took a long swim in the lake. When I came back, Michael stood in the kitchen corner, drinking coffee, smirking at me. The cocky brat was back.

  “I put the sheets in the washer. Do we have a spare set?”

  “Yes, one.” I looked away from him. I couldn’t see him and hear his voice at the same time. I could deal with one or the other, but both at the same time were too much of an assault on my senses.

  “It’ll be dry by the evening anyway.”

  God, he was talking about laundry, and all I could think of was my cum coating his raw asshole.

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Fine, thanks. You?”

  “I slept fantastic. Thank you for asking. Fucked out and happy.” He was sincere, no trace of sarcasm in his words.

  I grunted like a Neanderthal and went to hide in the bathroom. Jesus, how was I going to stand this?

  As soon as the door to the shower stall clicked shut behind me and the water hit my back, I had my hands wrapped around my length. I made myself come, images from last night flickering through my brain.

  I was hoping the release would clear my mind, and it had. Somewhat. When I exited the bathroom, I could look at Michael without the pressing need to bend him over the table and spank him.

  He was sitting on the sofa, drawing in his sketchbook. I’d never looked inside the thick folder, although I’d been tempted many times. He would sit for hours and draw in complete silence, still and thoughtful, his soft expression a confusing contrast to his usual brazen behavior.

  He lifted his gaze from the paper and tapped his pencil on his lips.

  His green eyes bored into mine, defiant and gorgeous. He still wanted me, and he knew very well how much I craved him. I stood no chance against those eyes. He was the one with all the power, the strong, dominant one. I was just a puppet on a string.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my jaw.

  I could do this. I just had to say no enough times, so he’d get tired of me and give up. Except this niggling voice in my head kept whispering. He wants you. Just look at him. He’s like a bitch in heat around you. You have the cabin to yourself for weeks to come. How many times and how many ways could you fuck him? He’s a cock slut and enjoys pain. He’ll let you do anything you want… Tie him to the bed for days, fill his hole to the brim with your cum... He’d love it…

  Why indeed? Why shouldn’t I?

  Because he was a client. He was paying me to protect him, not to fuck him. Because he was twenty years younger than me and currently dependent on me. Because I could easily get attached to someone like him. Because I needed a clear head…

  Keep convincing yourself, Nowak. See how long you can take it. How clear is your head now, dumbass?

  He’d let you do anything you want…

  7

  When I thought I had Vincent, but then he had me

  Michael

  It had been two days since Vincent had fucked me. He was like a fucking iceberg, refusing to even look at me. And I, horny and stupid, only wanted him more. I couldn’t take it. The need was killing me. On the positive side, I was so obsessed with him, I almost forgot all about why I had ended up here in a cabin in the middle of a forest, alone with a bodyguard. Since we’d fucked, I hadn’t had any nightmares, no specters chasing me, because I only dreamed about Vincent. Filthy, needy dreams to which I jerked off under the covers at four in the morning, gasping his name.

  Tonight, I showered and prepped, not taking any chances. I had to seduce him. I chose snug white boxer briefs and a tight T-shirt that was too short for me, the barbells in my nipples perfectly visible through the threadbare fabric. Dressed like a fuck boy, I exited the bathroom.

  Vincent sprawled in the armchair, his big body filling the space, drawing me closer as if he were the center of gravity in my universe. He raised his eyes, did a double take, and then bent his head again, focusing on his iPad.

  I went to the fridge and opened a can of Coke. Leaning on the fridge door, I drank a little and watched him. He didn’t move a muscle, but didn’t touch the screen either. The man was pretending to work, while trying hard to resist me.

  I put the can on the counter, and strode to where he sat, stopping three feet in front of him.

  “Look at me, Vincent.”

  “It’s not going to happen, Michael.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. He clenched his teeth, staring at the screen.

  “Then look at me.”

  He lifted his head, annoyance in his gaze. “Give it up.”

  “You want me.”

  “One of us has to be an adult.”

  I took a step closer. He skimmed my exposed body, then dragged his gaze back up to my face, his features seemingly impassive. If I didn’t know him already, I’d have believed he wasn’t interested in me. However, I did know him. He tightened his grip on the device. Tension thrummed through his body, and I knew what happened when he let it loose. Fuck, I hoped he’d do it. I wanted him to fucking pounce.

  “Bullshit. We’re not hurting anyone. It’s not like we have anything better to do while we’re stuck here. You want me. You want nothing more than to bend me over, spank my ass, and fuck my hole until I can’t walk. I want the same. Why do you torture yourself?”

  “You’re my client whose safety depends on my ability to focus,” Vincent replied, his voice dim and monotone. “You’re only endangering yourself.”

  “You’ve already fucked me, Vincent.”

  “Yes. That was my fault, and I regret it.”

  That stung. Like hell.

  “Give it up, Michael. I’m not repeating the same mistake. Stop prancing around and go to bed.”

  “I don’t regret a thing. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  My honesty must have surprised him because, for once, he had nothing to say. He stared at me, his mouth parted.

  I dragged my palm over my groin. “I guess I’m going to go and fuck myself with the plastic dick again.”

  I stalked to my bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me. The humiliation was a deep ache in my chest.

  I did not tone it down. Nope. He was getting the full show. Lying on my side, I groaned when I stuffed the silicon dick into my ass and rocked my hips, fucking myself with it. Soon, I was pushing it in to the base. I was loud. Vincent must have heard every sound, which was the whole point. I imagined him touching himself in the next room.

  “Fuck me, Daddy,” I panted for his benefit. “Harder.”

  The tip of the dildo hit me just right, and I arched
my back, my groin tingling.

  I’d expected him to be frustrated and angry at me. Maybe I could rile him up enough, so he’d let me suck him off tomorrow. When I imagined his cock in my mouth, I moaned louder, plunging the dildo into my ass faster and faster.

  It turned out I’d grossly underestimated Vincent’s temperament.

  The door tore open, and Vincent charged inside. He grabbed my ankle, dragged me to the edge of the bed, and pulled the dildo out of my ass, the ridge snagging painfully at my rim. I gasped.

  “On your hands and knees,” he spat.

  I obeyed immediately. Asshole empty and aching, I knelt on the bed and fisted the sheets. My heartbeat spiked.

  Fuck!

  I yelped with pain and surprise. He hit me with the artificial dick. The wet silicone smacked me on my ass cheek, the sound obscene. Oh wow. Only I craved more.

  “You want cock?”

  “Yes,” I whined. My ass stung, but it felt so good.

  Another smack. It hurt. He’s beating my ass with a fucking dildo!

  “I didn’t hear you, boy.”

  “Yes, Daddy. I want your cock. Please.”

  Another hit. One side, then the other.

  “I’ll give you cock.”

  He hit me into my crease, the toy slapping over my hole, and I moaned with surprised pleasure. He did it again, a perfect blow, painful and so fucking arousing, setting my nerve endings on fire.

  “Fuck, yes!” He hit my ass cheeks a few more times, grunting like an animal, then threw the dildo onto the floor.

  A zipper hissed, then the snick of a lube bottle.

  “Beg,” Vincent growled.

  I’d beg him and let him beat me all night long if he asked. He owned me. The thought gave me a dizzying rush.

  I belong to Vincent. His property.

  “Please. I need your cock, Daddy. Please, fuck me.”