A Russian Bear

by CB Conwy

  "Okay. I can't wait to see you in your natural environment." Wait. Was he being teased again?

  "I mean, on the prowl along with other predators like you." He was. And he couldn't even help taking the bait.

  "I won't be on the prowl, you know. I'll have you with me." Mischa was even growling. He was way too easy.

  Tom's voice went all husky and low. "You will. I'm thinking about wearing a pair of jeans and then going without a top. Or maybe I should just borrow some leather from you?"

  Mischa really, really tried to keep back his moan. And failed miserably. "I have a pair of black leather chaps you can wear. Bring your jeans and a black jockstrap, then you can try them on and we'll decide what you'll wear."

  The only consolation for his own lack of control was the little squeak Tom made. "I will, sir."

  Mischa quickly ended the call, not wanting to have it end up in phone sex. Which was where he was heading if he had to listen to Tom's voice for much longer.

  So, Mischa had some serious worries about his reputation. The odd thing was that those worries didn't apply to Tom. Yes, he was the reason for the whole mess, but the boy was also the sweetest thing that had happened to Mischa in a long time. And one Mischa didn't want to give up.

  Mischa started. Was it as simple as that? All his principles going to hell over a graduate student fifteen years younger than him? The scary part was that the answer seemed so simple. He snorted; maybe he had even learned something about going with the flow from Tom. Maybe it could be that easy. It sure felt like it.

  ***

  It was Saturday morning and they were in the playroom. Tom had had an emergency meeting the day before, and they hadn't gotten to Mischa's house until late in the evening. Mischa had made the boy undress and suck him off in the hallway. Tom had fallen into his headspace naturally, and even if his hard dick made the boy moan with need, he didn't complain about going to bed without coming. It was a rush for Mischa to see him take to it this easily.

  Now Mischa was walking around the boy, circling him in his most predatory manner. Tom was hard, had been all morning. The boy was stubborn, though, standing proudly upright, head held high. Mischa let his finger brush Tom's slit ever so lightly, but even the light touch made Tom whimper. He was ready.

  "Today, you're going to get your first paddling. It's going to hurt, but it's the kind of pain that you like. You'll enjoy it so much." Tom was blushing, of course he was, but his cock was hard as nails.

  Mischa walked him to the bench and bent him over it. "Put your legs on the ledges here. Good." Without warning his sub, Mischa strapped Tom down, hands and legs and waist, making the boy gasp. As he had thought, Tom was excited enough to react just right to the rougher treatment, moaning and rubbing against the bench. Mischa chuckled and opened the bench from beneath, making sure Tom wouldn't come before Mischa wanted him to. Tom whimpered but tried to comply. Beautiful.

  "Stay here. I'm going to get a paddle." He knew how vulnerable it was going to make Tom feel, being alone and tied up. Of course, the boy wasn't alone at all -- Mischa never took his eyes off him -- but Tom would feel that way. It would make him think; make him realize what they were doing. Mischa wanted to hear the result of that.

  He deliberately dragged out time, choosing the heavy leather paddle and then just watching his boy. Tom was pulling at the cuffs; not fighting them, just ensuring that they were tight. Mischa had a hunch that Tom would like to fight. But that took trust, and they weren't entirely there yet.

  He went back to Tom, letting his hand glide over the boy's back. "Ready for your paddling, boy?"

  "Yes, sir, please. Please paddle my ass. Please make it hurt." In the last minute, Mischa managed to transform his moan into a sigh. If this was what his boy wanted, then Mischa would gladly give it to him.

  "Don't worry, boy. I will." He didn't waste any time and let the first slap fall. The air rushed out of Tom. Mischa hit him again, making him jerk and adjust his legs. Mischa didn't hold back but gave him slap after slap of hard, solid whacks. Tom lifted his ass a little, seeking more feeling. That was so fucking hot, and Mischa kept up his paddling.

  He held a steady rhythm of hard slaps, and after a while Tom started to writhe. Mischa could sense the pain getting worse, could hear it in Tom's labored breathing that was turning into gasps, then to moans. The boy's cock never went down, though.

  Mischa added another hard blow to the reddened ass, and Tom cried out. "No! Sir, it hurts, it hurts." He didn't sound panicked, though, and Mischa just kept up. Tom started begging, his words almost incomprehensible, asking for more, to stop, to let him come. Mischa smiled.

  "Take it, boy. Take my pain." Mischa's words made Tom groan, and for a moment the boy lifted his butt, trying to get more. Then it hurt too much and he whimpered, using what little leeway the straps gave him to jerk and struggle.

  "Stop fighting the pain. Accept it. Go with it." Mischa knew that Tom was at a limit here; not of how much he could take, but a line between fighting and hurting and then just accepting, flowing with the pain.

  And Tom crossed the line, as easy as that. He was gasping now, his breath rushing out of him with every smack, ending on a keening noise. He was still hard, and Mischa knew that Tom had found somewhere he could stay in the middle of the pain. Mischa let the slaps get a little lighter; the aim was to keep Tom right here, and the sensitivity from the earlier smacks meant that the boy would perceive this as the same pain level as before.

  His boy was singing now, sounds flowing from Tom with no barriers, no attempts of forming words. It was exhilarating to witness, and Mischa wanted to keep him here forever. But that would damage Tom, and Mischa had to let his smacks get lighter, let the tension go down.

  "No! Please, sir, please." It made Mischa's breath catch in his throat hearing his boy ask for more, to let it go on. He put the paddle down and grabbed Tom's ass, squeezing it. Tom yelped, panted.

  "You like this, don't you?"

  "Yes, sir, I like it. Please, give me what I need." It was the biggest turn on for Mischa, hearing his boy beg like this. He smacked Tom's butt, enjoying the strangled noise from Tom. Then he let his hand find Tom's cock.

  "Oh, you're still hard, aren't you?" Mischa brushed the hard member lightly; if he gave Tom any more sensation, the boy would come on the spot.

  "Yes, sir, so hard for you. Please, take me. Please, sir." Well, Mischa hadn't really planned to, but Tom was begging so prettily. He found a condom and lubed himself up.

  He quickly put a finger in Tom's ass, then two. Mischa didn't want to be gentle; he wanted Tom to take him and his pain and his arousal. Tom just hissed and pushed back, trying to get more.

  Mischa took out his fingers and placed his cock at Tom's entrance. Then he pushed in, making Tom shout when Mischa breached the boy's tight opening. Mischa didn't let up, but pushed all the way in, making Tom grunt and groan when Mischa bottomed out.

  Mischa didn't take his time, couldn't; he needed to move and did so, taking his boy deeply, pushing himself inside and shouting out with the pleasure. He ground his hips into Tom, ripping the sounds from the boy and pushing the pain deep into him. Then Mischa had to move, and he started slapping his hips into Tom's tender ass, forcing the shouts out of his boy like he did with the paddle. It was too much, and Mischa came, yelling and shaking, his hips moving in spasms while he pumped his seed into the condom deep inside his boy's body.

  He let Tom take his weight, panting for breath. Then Mischa had to pull out, Tom whimpering as he did so. Mischa fumbled for his boy's dick and felt it hanging limply under the bench.

  "Sorry, sir." Tom sounded a bit sheepish.

  "I didn't say you couldn't come, did I?" And hell, it did make Mischa feel smug to make Tom come like that.

  "I guess not." Tom moved a bit, head turning to follow where Mischa went to get a towel and some cream. Mischa cleaned himself up and turned back. He had to stop for a moment, taking in the sight of his boy. Tom's body was limp on the bench, ass red and l
ooking so obscene that Mischa moaned.

  Tom blushed and smiled, shyly. "I... I look okay?"

  Mischa went over and let his hand glide over the red ass, none too gently. Tom gasped, hips shivering under Mischa's fingers.

  "You look fucking hot. If you hadn't just made my balls turn themselves inside out, I would fuck you again."

  Tom sighed, accepting the sting of Mischa's caresses. Fuck, the boy was a natural.

  "I take it that I was right -- you did like this?"

  Tom laughed out loud. "Oh yes, you have every right to say 'I told you so!' God, that was good. Please do that again next weekend." Then Tom blushed and bit his lip.

  Mischa smiled. Tom had been very particular about not demanding more of Mischa's time, of keeping it casual. It was nice to know that Mischa wasn't the only one wanting more of it. "I will, don't worry."

  Tom looked relieved, and Mischa bent down and kissed him. Then Mischa helped him up, laughing at the shocked expression on the boy's face as Tom felt the sting on his butt. Mischa leaned in and smacked it one last time.

  "Ow, fuck!" Tom jumped. "I mean, sir. That stings."

  Mischa just laughed and winked at him. "I know."

  ***

  Mischa wanted their afternoon scene to be light; he didn't want to blow Tom's mind before the party tonight. On the other hand, he wanted Tom to be in the right headspace.

  That was why he had Tom back in the playroom after lunch, leading the boy to the bench again. Tom looked a bit apprehensive; there was no doubt that he could still feel his sore ass if the color was anything to go by. Mischa didn't have any more paddlings in mind, though.

  He helped Tom up but didn't fasten the straps. "I want you to keep yourself still for this. Did you clean yourself thoroughly?" Tom blushed, but nodded.

  Without further explanations, Mischa went to the cabinets and got what he needed. He slicked the toy up and showed it to Tom. "Do you know what these are?"

  Tom looked curiously at the bright blue beads. "Well, I think I can guess. They... They go up my ass?" He obviously had to struggle to get the words out.

  "They do. And they're called beads. You can get them in all kinds and sizes. Some of them you can hardly feel, some of them are big enough to make you yell. And yes, I like them." Mischa let his hands glide over the soft material, the lube making the beads glisten. "These are five different sizes, two of each size. Even the big ones won't be too difficult for you to take. You'll like them. Now, bend over while I put them in you."

  He could see the boy get all flustered by his brusque order; Mischa was giving Tom less and less time to adjust, pushing him a bit more. Tom bent over, though, and grabbed the cuffs to have something to hold on to.

  "Good boy. Here comes the first ball." He pushed the little ball in, making Tom gasp. Mischa smiled knowingly.

  "Yeah, it feels good, doesn't it? How about this?" He pulled out the ball again.

  "Oh! Oh, that's good, sir." Tom ground his hips.

  "It is. You're going to take the whole string like that: one ball in, out again, two balls in, and so on. Do you think you can handle that?" Mischa was almost grinning; he was quite sure that Tom could handle it.

  "Yes, sir. Please do it." He did, making Tom gasp when the little ball pushed in again, and then the next. It was always the removal that got the biggest reaction, though.

  The first four balls went easily, Tom gasping and moaning with it. The fifth was a bit larger, making Tom strain to take it.

  "You can do it. Just relax." It wasn't very big; it was Tom's excitement that made him clench up around the soft silicone string and get all tight. He got the fifth, though, and the sixth, too. At the seventh, Tom started panting a bit. Mischa pushed it in.

  "Oh! Oh, sir, I can feel it inside me."

  "Yes, the string goes deep inside of you." Mischa pulled out the ball, pushing it in again and adding the eighth. Tom bucked, groaning out loud. Mischa took a little break, stroking Tom's back and gently tugging on the ring at the end. "Last one going out before the two big ones. You can do it." He tugged it out and pushed it back in, not giving Tom any time to adjust. His boy whimpered, hands straining against the cuffs.

  "Now the big one." Mischa pushed, but Tom's hole didn't budge. "Open up for me, boy." He kept up the push, and with a grunt, Tom accepted it. His boy arched, panting and trying to deal with the intrusion.

  "Please, sir, do you have to pull that one out again?" Tom was gasping. It made Mischa hard.

  "Of course, boy. That's how you get a string of beads. Only the last one stays in." Tom moaned piteously. The boy bent back down, though, and cried out when the ball was pulled out. Mischa pushed it right back in. Then he started pushing the last one in. It wouldn't go, but Mischa kept up the pressure and forced Tom to take it. Finally, Tom yelped, and it went in. Mischa bent over him and lifted him up, letting him lean back on Mischa's body.

  "Squeeze your hole closed. Keep it inside you." Tom gasped, but followed his order. Mischa kissed him on the neck and held him, feeling the boy relaxing against Mischa's body. Tom was about to bend back down when Mischa helped him up.

  "Come on up. The beads can stay in while I show you something." Tom got up, experimentally taking a step.

  "I can hardly feel it, sir." He sounded surprised. "It was really tight in the beginning, but now I only feel a little full." Mischa smiled. It would be quite easy for Tom to take. For now.

  "You never got the entire tour of my house, you know. I want to tell you about how I built it."

  Tom blinked. "With... with this in me?"

  Mischa relished the shock in Tom's voice."Oh yes, you said so yourself that it doesn't bother you. Now, come on."

  And he gave Tom the big tour of the house. The very big, very detailed tour. They were in every room -- except for his office, of course -- and he explained and showed and even found a blueprint at one point.

  In the beginning, Tom looked genuinely interested. Then he started to squirm a little. Mischa ignored him. When they reached the second guest room and Mischa explained everything about the double windows, Tom gasped and bent over a little.

  "Stand up straight." Mischa smacked Tom's red ass, making him jump.

  "Sorry, sir. It's just..." Mischa didn't let him finish but led him to the bathroom. The Jacuzzi was so very interesting, wasn't it? Tom was openly squirming now, and for a moment Mischa thought about telling him that there would be a quiz on the tour later on. That would have been a hopeless endeavor, however, and Mischa took pity. He still showed Tom another room, until the boy finally broke down.

  "Please, sir! I have to get it out!"

  Mischa looked at Tom, keeping his face only mildly interested. "Yeah? You said that it didn't bother you."

  "It didn't, at first, but now it's driving me insane. I... I don't think I can keep it in." Tom was blushing, clenching his cheeks.

  Mischa smiled. Tom's body had to be trying hard to expel the intruder.

  "Sure." Tom looked up, relieved. "Let me just show you the kitchen first. I'm really proud of that." Tom's face fell, and he moaned out loud. But he followed, only halting once to squeeze his buttocks together with his hands.

  Mischa talked and talked until there wasn't a single detail left to tell about his kitchen. Tom was whimpering now. He was also very hard, of course. Finally, Mischa took pity on him.

  "I'll take it out of you." Tom made an incomprehensible sound, so grateful.

  "As soon as you've made me come." Mischa opened his pants and waited.

  Tom looked at him disbelievingly. There was a moment there where Mischa thought that Tom would rebel and pull the damned thing out of himself. Then the boy whimpered and sank to his knees. He had to adjust his position to keep the beads inside his body, but he managed.

  Mischa groaned out loud when he felt Tom's mouth around his dick. He had meant to drag this out, but Tom was sucking him like a Hoover, his boy's need to find release so big. Mischa relished it, but he had to give in. With a yell, he came down To
m's throat.

  It took him a few moments to collect himself. It was Tom's continuous whimper that made Mischa open his eyes and put his cock away. Mischa bent and kissed him. "Good boy. Now, let's go to the playroom and get it out of you."

  Tom didn't even protest the additional challenge of walking to the playroom. Mischa had to help the boy up, though, and his dick twitched when Tom moaned. He got Tom down on the bench and finally pulled the string of beads out of him. Tom cried out, so relieved.

  "Thank you, sir, thank you so much. They were so... I just couldn't take them anymore. Thank you." Tom kept babbling, only relaxing into Mischa's long, slow touches after a while. His body needed it, though, and he got quiet, enjoying the caresses. Mischa could tell the exact moment, though, when the boy remembered his hard dick. Smiling, Mischa slid a hand around Tom's body, closing around the hard cock.