Ship of Fools

by Sophia Soames

  “Baby.”

  I say it again and again. Soothing and shushing.

  “Then there’s me. I don’t think there’s much wrong with me, apart from obviously being a little gay, and the fact that I get off on a bit of rough sex, and then I have this humiliation kink…”

  “You are absolutely normal.”

  “I know. But I used to wonder. I was obsessed with… I don’t think I realised it at the time, but I think I have always got off on the risk-taking thing. As a kid I was always attention seeking, trying to find things to annoy my parents, so they would at least acknowledge me. You know, smashing up priceless vases, throwing bubble bath in the pool. You know. Then, at school I was always getting into fights, and most of them were all my fault. Then, when I discovered sex, I was looking for the bad guys, the ones my Dad would really disapprove of. I went for the guys who were bigger and stronger, and then I would goad them into getting rough. I sometimes got really scared, and the adrenaline kick of that fear? It sometimes turned me on. So, I went looking for guys who could go harder, and it would always go wrong, and I became really scared of what I was doing. I got obsessed with having safer, more normal kind of hookups, but then I would go home with these lame guys who just wanted a nice blow job, and I would be sitting there feeling empty, wondering how fucked in the head I was, not to be able to come when someone sucked my dick, because I would only come if someone was beating me up while they were shoving their cock down my throat.”

  He’s crying again and I start rocking him, like I rock Baby Bob when he can’t settle down. Slow soothing movements, my lips pressed against his skin.

  “You will never get hurt with me.”

  “Says the guy who put me in hospital, twice.” He teases, but it’s still a sore point.

  “I know.” I cringe in shame. The second time he got a broken collarbone from assembling a wardrobe. It had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with me not being able to read simple IKEA instructions. The door came off the bloody rail and took his collarbone with it. Another trip to the emergency room that I don’t want to remember.

  “At least you didn’t get a boner from your collarbone being broken.” I try.

  He turns around and stares at me, with mock anger.

  “Bastard. Mocking my kinks.”

  “I’m not mocking anything. Remember that time you came home from the office, and pretended that I was your maid? You spanked me with the frying pan! Fuck’s sake, Andreas, I couldn’t sit down for a week!”

  He laughs, and for a moment I have him back. The carefree man I adore.

  “Stop.” I say. Then I say it again, this time firmer. “Stop!”

  “Are you safe wording, Luca Germano?” He turns in my arms. Pushes me away so he can look at me. Properly. His eyes wet with tears, his face… It’s so him. So full of love and admiration and everything that I love about him, and yet, there is a little smile on his face.

  “I’m safe wording you out of your head. I don’t want you to talk like that, not anymore. There is nothing wrong with you, and there is nothing wrong with me. So, stop. Stop.”

  “I’m a little fucked up, from today. I can’t help it.”

  “I know,” I say, stroking the moisture from his cheeks. “So, let’s make it all stop.”

  “I don’t let my family define me. I just wanted to see them, I wanted to show you off. I wanted you to see the sunset from the patio, and maybe sit down and listen to my mum sing. She sings sometimes when she’s happy. There have been good times, Luca. I know you didn’t see them today, but I do have good memories from here. Times when my family were good, and times when me and my sister got on. We used to. But I barely know her anymore.”

  “Maybe she could come visit?” I try, regretting the words as they come out.

  He laughs, and kisses my lips.

  “No. I don’t want her to. My life in Chistleworth, with you? That’s my life, and nobody can take that away from me. I have you, and our family, and your parents have been good for me. Your mum is amazing. You know that, right?”

  “Of course, I do, she’s my mum. You know. Not perfect, just there. She loves us, even you.”

  “She knows… some… some of this. I told her, because… I don’t know why, she told me about your grandma drinking, and how she grew up in a house where she felt she was always walking on broken glass, because she never knew what mood her mum would be in. She told me about violence and threats, of never having enough to eat. So, I told her about my mum, and she let me cry for a bit. It was nice. You know. To tell someone.”

  “You could have told me.”

  “I didn’t want to, because you are the kind of person who would have tried to fix it. You can’t fix my family, and you know what? It’s fine. It’s okay. Things will always be like this, and perhaps that is the wrong thing to say that, but for me? It’s the way I want it. I want to live at home with you, and life will be good that way. I have shown you what my family is like instead, and perhaps, you can understand why I am not, you know. Like you. I love my parents. I just don’t like them very much.”

  “I understand that.” I say softly. “Your sister?”

  “She’s her own person, making her own life. She hates the UK, and never comes over. I think she got traumatised by the month Dad made her spend in the Priory Clinic. She mentioned frostbite, and being forced to eat meat. She’s, apparently, a stern vegan, but eats chicken. Explain that.” He grabs my hand. Holds it. Kisses my fingers. I kiss him back, wondering how much he can take. If he’s up for what I hope will calm us both down. I don’t want to push it. Don’t want to assume.

  “Are you still chasing that adrenaline kick?” I ask instead, because he’s never explained things like that before. I’ve never thought of it either. We’re still exploring this with no handbook, and no clear rules. I don’t know what it is, apart from that it works for us, even when things go wrong.

  “Yes, of course. And it’s different now, because these days I get off on the fact that I have no idea what you are going to do to me, that you will sometimes really make me squirm and hurt, and sometimes lull me into this false sense of security, and then BAM! Monster-beast Luca will appear and beat my arse to a pulp. “

  “I don’t beat your arse to a pulp.”

  “You bought that leather spanking paddle.”

  “I did.” I smile. One of my more-successful purchases. “And the girl in the shop made me practice on myself, to make sure I knew how to safely use it. She was very thorough, and I limped home like an idiot with a spanking paddle in a pink sparkly gift bag.”

  “I was bruised for days after that one, it was… very good.” He stares at me dreamily.

  “I will never hurt you, not intentionally.” I have to add that these days, because I still don’t know what I’m doing. “I don’t know why I like it. I don’t know why I get off on playing with you like that, but I think mostly it turns you on, and that turns me on, and then we egg each other on, and fuck, you make me horny…”

  I have to adjust my cock, now trapped in the sheets between us.

  “You take so little control in your real life.” He says quietly. “I’ve thought about that, a lot. You work for your dad, your family ridicule you for little things, and I don’t mean that in a bad way, but with me? When we play? You take control. You fucking give it to me, and I love it. It’s nothing we have to psychoanalyse to death, because you know what?”

  He climbs up, and straddles me as he grabs my wrists, and pins me down.

  I try to play-struggle, but he’s not smiling.

  “Stop.” He says instead. “Stop. You were right, so I’m safe-wording you right back. Stop, because… this is not helping. Not one bit.”

  “Okay,” I say softly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Do you want to go to sleep?” I tease.

  He shakes his head vigorously, then grabs my chin. Leans over and kisses my lips.

  “I think I need to get out of m
y head for a bit.”

  I moan. Because I know this look in his eyes, and for once? I totally agree with him. We both need to get out of our heads. We need to find our way back. We need to be on holiday and relax and have some kind of normal sun-drenched festive existence. With sex. Because I hope we are on the same page here.

  “You have a choice to make, Luca Germano.” He says.

  “Okay…”

  “You either have a couple of beers with me, right now, and get totally sloshed.”

  “Absolutely not.” I say sternly.

  He just laughs. “I would never ask that of you, you know that. Wanna hear the alternative then?”

  I nod. I have no idea what he’s up to, and that kind of excites me, even more than the fact that he no-doubt will have me orgasming into a coma within the next hour.

  He bends down so his mouth is right over mine. Then he opens his dirty mouth and bites down on my bottom lip. Just hard enough to nip.

  “I’m going to fuck you.” He says sternly. “Get my dick in that arse of yours. I think I deserve it, don’t you?”

  Andreas

  The wonderful thing with my life is… There are so many wonderful things in my life that I don’t actually know what order to put them in. But I’ve got Luca, so I’m good.

  Luca who is insanely squeamish about his own arse, yet who keeps saying I can top him, whenever I want, despite me always making a face and saying no.

  Today? I don’t know why, but for once, I feel like taking some control back, I want to be the Dom dude, and I want to be the bad guy, and I want to make him shout and beg, and cry like he does with me.

  Not that I can hurt him, not the way Luca can hurt me. He’s got a sizeable cock, and me? I have a penis that is in proportion to my slimness and slight. In other words, my dick is small. Which is why Luca happily deepthroats me with not even a cough or a whimper, and I have no idea what fucking his throat is like, because... hello? Size matters.

  I’m small and perfectly formed, and I know for a fact that this turns Luca on as well. We’ve played along those lines too, him teasing me and punishing me for my tiny dick, something that makes me smile, just thinking about it.

  “If I want to slap your face, will you let me?” I whisper, keeping my voice on the edge of menacing. I can’t do it as well as he does, but at least I can try, and he nods as his breathing hitches, which is always a good sign.

  “I’m going to fuck you raw, baby, and open up that virgin hole of yours.” I hum, as a little moan escapes his lips.

  “I’m not really a butt virgin,” he says, and I laugh.

  “I know, baby, but for now… You are… you are straight, and tied to my bed, and I am going to stick shit up your fine arse, and make you come. How does that sound?”

  He rolls his hips underneath me, as his cock jerks under the covers. “Bring it on, baby. So, I’m straight?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ve never been straight.”

  “You can plead for the virtue of your pretty little hole.” I giggle and motion for him to turn over.

  “Go careful on my pretty little hole. It’s delicate and extremely sensitive.” He tries, as I just giggle even more, and place a well-aimed slap at his arse cheek. It obviously stings nicely as he wriggles around on the bed.

  “I should have brought the paddle.” I mutter under my breath, as I get off the bed and go over and rummage around in my suitcase. I brought a few little toys, the big flesh-coloured dildo thingy, the one with the loose floppy balls, that doesn’t look very appealing, but those balls give you a nice grip for thrusts, something Luca has told me on numerous occasions as he has been destroying my own fine little hole with it. And the thinner prostate wand. Just to torture him with.

  “You can use the hairbrush,” comes from the bed, as I skim out of my boxers, and a smile creeps up my face.

  “If I use the hairbrush, you will be showing some godawful marks on the beach tomorrow.” I warn. “If you let me use the brush, I will mark you, because that thing hurts.”

  I smile to myself, as I weigh the brush in my hand. It’s mine, and I have paddled myself sore with it before, before I met Luca, when I still had to make my own fantasies come true. It’s not the same as having someone else play with you, but still… It’s good. Good enough.

  “Arse up, and hold on to the edge of the mattress, baby.” I think I’m good at this, well, not as good as Luca, because he can make me shiver with only a few words, and make me follow his orders blindly, just with the tone of his voice? Me? I sound a bit like a bossy mouse, threatening to spank him with a plastic straw or something equally silly.

  I still sit myself down on the edge of the bed, letting my hand smooth over his skin. His legs, his thighs. His back that is arching under my touch.

  “If it’s too much, stop me.” I whisper.

  “Do what you need to do.” He says.

  “I’m going to go easy—” I start, but he interrupts me with a stern instruction.

  “Go hard. Make me feel it. Don’t think I can’t take it, because I can. Just do what you need to do. Take it all out on me, and get it out of your system.”

  I kind of know what he’s trying to say, and my head goes into a spin of thoughts that I don’t want to think. I want to get out of my head, not into it.

  “Give me ten blows. Make me count them out. Hard.”

  I throw the first blow, probably harder than I should have, the back of the brush landing with a sharp smack against his skin.

  He howls. My dick jerks.

  “One!” he shouts, as I land another one on the opposite cheek.

  “Fuuck, that hurts!”

  “You want me to stop?” I tease.

  “Bastard. Do it again!”

  “Sir Bastard, to you,” I hiss, as I land a third blow, and he lets out a long, drawn-out whine of hurt.

  “Four!” He moans.

  “That was three, thank you very much.” I laugh evilly, as I turn the hairbrush around and scrape the bristles over his reddened skin.

  He sinks into the mattress, trying to get away from my torture, as I follow the bristles with a soft smooth of my hand, before finishing him off with a firm slap as he howls at me to give him more. I give it, of course I do, because he asks so nicely, as I tease and demand his arse back up where I need it. He jerks away, and I drag him up on top of my knees, letting his dick sink between my legs. It’s a nice position, for him, I know, because it’s a favourite of mine too.

  “Over my lap. We’re gonna break that hole of yours, whatever you try. Stay still, and let me finish this spanking off. Get used to the pain, because once I get inside you, you’re gonna feel like you are being split in half.” I warn, as I throw down another hard blow on his arse, and he squirms, letting go of the mattress edge and rolling off my lap with a pathetic sounding whimper.

  “Fucking hurts, baby.” He moans, as he gets up on all fours and crawls up to me, demanding a kiss. I give him one, as deep and demanding as he craves them.

  “Hurts good, or hurts bad?” I giggle, as he curls up around me and wraps his arms around my waist. He’s so cute, his face all red, his mouth gone slack as I rub his reddened globes, and chuck the brush on the floor.

  “You ready to let me play with your hole then?” I soothe, flipping the lid off the lube that I handily had left on the bed next to the dildo. Then I change my mind and close the lube, and instead pick up the rubber toy, which I roll between my fingers with a menacing smile.

  “Put this in your mouth, baby.” I urge, as I push the rubber cock against his lips. “Open that pretty mouth of yours and get this motherfucker nice and wet.”

  He giggles softly at my choice of words. Not something I would usually say, but hey, I’m new at this, and I kind of like it.

  “Lick it.” I whisper. “Suck on it. I know you want to.”

  He obeys, and my dick jumps with joy as he lets me slowly fill his mouth with rubber, his lips straining around the sides of it, as I crawl out of h
is grip, and help turn him on his back.

  “Okay, you’re going to take it all the way to the back, I want you to really gag on it. Just a little. Because I want you to. Because… fuck, it’s hot to see you like this.”

  He pulls the dildo out with his hand, and coughs, wiping spit from his cheeks in the process, then lies back down, angling his head further back.

  “Do it.” He says, and strokes his cock, moving his hips a little to let me straddle him. “Make me take it all the way down. Like I do to you. Don’t let me off easily, just make me take it.”

  He has no idea what his words do to me, as I moan—a little louder than I probably intended.

  But he sighs contentedly as I straddle his chest, giving him ample space to jerk himself off, as I push the dildo into his mouth again, making his nostrils flare and his throat constrict.

  “You’re being very brave,” I start, forcing it a little further in. “Just letting me do whatever I want to you.”

  He tries to nod, as I choke him on the rubber thing, my fingers resting loosely around his throat, as tears pool in his eyes and he gags, properly this time, so I gently release him and kiss his cheeks. Kiss his wet, dirty mouth. Kiss his eyes. Anywhere I can reach really.

  “You want me, instead?” I tease, as I get back in position and shove my dick down his throat. Well, as far as I can get, and I’m kind of proud as he gags on me too, grabbing my butt cheeks to force me down deeper.

  It’s not a new thing, but it makes my head feel a little tingly as I push further down, feeling him struggle under the pressure of my weight. I pull out, staring down at him as he smiles, spit and wetness all over his handsome face.

  “Do it again,” he croaks out. “Give it to me.”

  So, back in I go, forcing myself to lean on his face, as he gives my arse a firm slap, and I almost come with excitement.

  “More,” I say, as his entire body jerks underneath me, and I get rewarded with another sting across the back of my legs. And another. And I start fucking in and out of his willing mouth, until he pushes me away almost violently.

  “My virgin arse needs to be bred, thoroughly… Sir.” He coughs, giggling as I try to compose myself, and yeah, stop myself from coming all over his frankly, filthy mouth. “I need that big cock of yours inside me.”