by Onley James
Every muscle was tensed, every nerve ending at attention. Adrenaline fired warning signals to his brain to flee, but his cock was hard, and he practically vibrated with his desire to give Gideon what he wanted.
He jumped as Gideon’s belt clattered to the floor and his hand rubbed Cal’s smarting bottom. “I only do this so you’ll learn, little one. I can teach you. I can teach you to be good for me. So good. Will you let me teach you, sweet boy?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Can I trust you not to cover yourself during your punishment, or do I need to tie your hands?”
“I…” Cal didn’t want his hands tied, but he also didn’t trust himself to hold still. He wasn’t sure what would be worse, trying and failing or not trying at all. “Please don’t tie my hands, Daddy.”
“You beg so sweetly,” Gideon murmured. “Walk to the bed.”
Cal did as Gideon asked, his steps slowing the closer he came to the mattress as if the path was mired in quicksand.
“Bend over. Palms flat on the mattress.” Cal began to comply, but Gideon stopped him. “Wait. Don’t move.”
Cal froze like a single step might detonate the bomb that seemed to tick down inside him. He could hear Gideon moving, heard a drawer opening and closing, and then the man was back behind him. Panic sent his pulse off-rhythm as leather closed around his throat. For a moment, he wondered if this had all been an elaborate ruse and Gideon would now choke him to death with his belt. But it wasn’t Gideon’s belt—it was a pink leather collar, and in the mirrored headboard, Cal could make out the silver letters along it. They spelled out BABY BOY.
Cal’s fingers fluttered to the butter soft leather, touching each letter, feeling more naked somehow with only the collar around his neck.
“It’s like it was made for you,” Gideon said, sounding almost surprised. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Cal whispered.
“Such a quick learner,” he praised.
This close, their size difference was obvious. It made Cal feel…something. Vulnerable? Needy? Fragile... Something his father had never allowed him to feel in nineteen years, not even after his mother died.
This time, Gideon didn’t speak, just guided Cal into position, one hand at the bend of his hip and the other applying pressure between his shoulder blades until he was bent over.
“Open your legs for me, baby boy.” Cal did as Gideon asked immediately. “I’m going to spank you now, and I want you to count each one. Twenty to start, I think. If you mess up, miscount, or forget to count, we start all over. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Let’s begin.”
The breath punched from Cal’s lungs as the first blow landed. If he’d thought Gideon would spare him the full weight of his palm because he was new, because he was small, he’d been wrong. “One,” he gasped.
Once more, Gideon rubbed the area, pulling a low whine from Cal. He yelped as the second smack came. “Two,” he said, voice trembling.
Slap. “Three.”
Slap. “Four.”
And on it went, this maddening rhythm of slap, soothe, begin again. Cal was sure his skin had blisters as Gideon’s palm landed again and again, hotter than any fire might have been. A fine sweat broke out along Cal’s skin, the air conditioning causing goosebumps to erupt over his whole body.
“Ten,” he cried, his voice catching on a sob.
Time stretched as he waited for the next blow to land, but nothing came. Cal glanced up, catching their reflection in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself. At some point, he’d stopped supporting his weight on his palms, his head and chest now rested against the cool sheets, his arms akimbo, his ass in the air like he presented himself to Gideon. He didn’t remember shifting, didn’t remember when his body had surrendered to gravity, but tears streaked his face, and he had clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip. He closed his eyes.
Gideon’s body blanketed Cal then, pressing tender kisses at the nape of his neck and along his throat. “You are doing so well for me, little bird. So well.”
“Daddy,” Cal whined, not sure what he wanted but feeling lost somehow.
“Color,” Gideon purred against his skin.
It took Cal a full thirty seconds to register what Gideon was even asking. Red, his body screamed. Red like his skin? Red like the fire burning in his belly. He didn’t know if he could take anymore. His body shook, but he didn’t know if it was adrenaline or fear. Still, when he opened his mouth, all that came was, “Green, Daddy.”
Gideon twisted a hand in Cal’s hair, tugging his head back and slanting their mouths together in a filthy kiss. “Such a good boy,” Gideon said against Cal’s lips before tearing himself away and pressing Cal’s face back against the bed.
Cal now understood why Bastian had warned him not to kiss Gideon. When his cheek hit the mattress, Cal was shattered, his chest hollow as if Gideon had sucked out his soul and left him empty.
The next blow that landed seemed to have less heat, or maybe Cal’s body was adjusting to the pain. Maybe it was something else altogether. By the time he uttered, “Fifteen,” a strange haze had wrapped itself around his reality, leaving him feeling almost like he floated on the ceiling in a delicious pocket of warmth.
“Twenty.” As soon as the word left his lips, Gideon seemed to disappear like some figment of Cal’s imagination. Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t dare. Daddy hadn’t given permission. He closed his eyes, aware of the hot tears flowing down his cheeks, a strange opposition to the euphoric sensation pulsing through him.
He moaned as lips trailed over his ass, the scratch of Gideon’s scruff warring with the soft open-mouthed kisses moving along his skin. He tensed as Gideon gripped him, spreading him open. “What…” was all Cal managed before a soft tongue laved over his hole. “Oh,” he gasped.
Nobody had ever touched him like that, so intimately. He’d never understood the way men whined and whimpered when they experienced it in videos. But now, he got it. He understood. He rocked his hips against the bed without thought, groaning at the friction of his cock against the sheets.
There was a low chuckle, and then Gideon pulled Cal’s hips back. “Uh-uh. You get only what I give, remember, little bird?” To his embarrassment, he started to cry again. What the fuck was wrong with him? Gideon’s hand caressed his lower back. “Shh, sweet boy. You’re doing so well. I’m going to take care of you. Just let me taste you.”
Cal was painfully hard, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the mattress, but Gideon’s fingers dug into his hips hard enough to leave bruises before he buried his face between Cal’s cheeks once more. There was nothing tender about his movements—it was a full-on assault on his senses. Gideon licked and sucked at his entrance, spearing his tongue against his hole before biting at him.
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck,” he sobbed. “I need… Please, Daddy.”
Gideon’s touch disappeared, and then one thick finger massaged his hole. “What baby? What do you need? Tell me.”
“Touch me, Daddy.”
“I am touching you, sweet boy.” He slipped a finger inside him to the second knuckle, startling a gasp out of Cal. “Is this what you need?”
Cal couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as Gideon probed him, his finger brushing against a spot inside that had his toes curling. It was all too much, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
“I don’t know,” he said, his hands fisting the sheets. He couldn’t think with Gideon’s finger inside him.
Cal gave a low moan as Gideon’s hand closed around his aching cock, stroking him. “Do not come until I say. Understand?” Cal panted into the sheets, his hips thrusting into Gideon’s tightened fist, but then it disappeared. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes, Daddy. I understand. Please…”
Gideon’s hand returned, but now, his strokes were frustratingly slow, his grip too loose for Cal to get the friction he so desperately needed. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t
take this anymore. It was too much. “I can’t…”
“Can’t what, baby?”
He didn’t answer, just whined in frustration. Gideon’s finger slipped free and then two fingers were working themselves back inside him. His whole body felt like a live wire. Every small touch or caress wrenched a cry or a moan from him. “Please, Daddy. I’m ready.”
Gideon’s hands disappeared. “Get on the bed.”
Cal crawled onto the bed and collapsed. He heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper and the sound of a foil wrapper torn open, then hands hauled his hips back up. Cal risked a glance in the mirror. What a dirty picture they made. Cal sweaty, naked, and panting, and Gideon calm and collected, clothed except for his thick cock, which he stroked as he examined Cal.
Gideon crawled onto the bed behind him. Cal closed his eyes, prepared to feel the blunt head of Gideon’s cock against him, but hands tugged Cal’s shoulders back before guiding his hips down. Cal’s thighs shook as Gideon’s erection pressed against his hole. He sucked in a startled breath at the pain that bloomed as his body attempted to reject the invasion. Gideon didn’t force him down or even thrust up, just let gravity and Cal’s own body weight do the work.
“Ow,” Cal whined. Gideon was too big. So big. But that didn’t stop Gideon’s slow breach of his body. Cal’s heart hammered against his ribs. He shook his head. Everything was wrong. This was going all wrong. He was disappointing Gideon. But he couldn’t stop the panicked whimpers escaping or the way his hands grasped at Gideon.
“Shh,” Gideon breathed against his ear. “Shh, stop fighting me. Your body knows what to do.” It wasn’t said with any malice. If anything, he spoke as though he soothed a child.
Cal wanted to obey, but he was scared. “You’re too big. It hurts.”
Soft lips pressed kisses against his throat and behind his ear. “You can hurt for me just a little, can’t you, baby? You’re doing so well. I’m so pleased.”
Cal wanted to be good for him. Wanted it more than anything. He gave a jerky nod. Gideon tilted Cal’s head, capturing his mouth in a kiss that made his head spin. Gideon’s hand closed around Cal’s now soft cock, stroking him. He lost himself in the feel of Gideon’s hand and mouth. Cal had kissed lots of boys but never like this, never like kissing was the goal, was everything. Like it was enough. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but when Gideon rocked his hips upward, Cal’s body complied.
Bastian had said Gideon would use him hard, but there was nothing hard about the slow steady way in which Gideon worked himself into Cal an inch at a time. His care was maddening, confusing. It made Cal feel things… Things that weren’t true. None of this was real, but it was hard to remember that with Gideon’s arm around his waist and one hand stroking his cock as he fucked into him with patience and care. Outside, the storm raged, but it was nothing compared to the emotions flooding Cal’s brain, stealing his breath and making him dizzy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Gideon panted against Cal’s mouth.
Pleasure spread along his body. He locked those words away so he could remember them later when this was all over. Gideon never used the same boy twice. Something about that made him want to weep. One night and Cal was addicted, addicted to Gideon’s rough hands and sweet kisses, his praise and his punishment, pleasure and pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Look at you. Look at us.”
Cal gripped his chin, forcing his gaze to the mirror. Fuck. Was that him? He looked so…debauched. His body flushed and bruised, his eyes wet from his earlier tears as he sat impaled on Gideon’s huge cock. Cal watched himself in the mirror as he shifted upward and then slid back down. There was still pain but Cal found he wasn’t just willing to hurt for Gideon, he craved it—craved the shocky, sharp pain that shot adrenaline through his system and made him shiver, craved the way his movement caused Gideon to groan or bite at him like he couldn’t help himself.
“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock. God, you’re taking it so well. Such a good boy, so good for me,” Gideon growled, a tension in his voice that wasn’t there before. Cal melted against Gideon, letting his head fall back against his shoulder, his lips parted as he stopped worrying and just let himself feel. Gideon had him. He wouldn’t let Cal fail.
A low moan escaped as Gideon’s hand closed around Cal’s cock once more, but this time, with purpose. He let Cal thrust into his fist before impaling himself back on Gideon’s cock. Cal lost himself in the ritual, the rhythm, his body tightening as he worked towards his release, sparks of electricity shooting along his skin.
“Don’t come until I say,” Gideon commanded.
Cal whined. “Yes, Daddy.”
Gideon’s arm became an iron bar around Cal’s waist, holding him still so he could drive into him with purpose, his hand working Cal’s cock in time with his movements. “Tell me you’re mine,” Gideon snarled.
“I’m yours, just yours, Daddy. Please,” Cal begged.
Gideon thrust into him one more time, his teeth sinking into Cal’s shoulder until he cried out, hips stuttering as he found his release. “Come for me.”
Two more strokes and Cal cried out, his orgasm jetting from him like he hadn’t come in a year. Gideon kept working him until Cal hissed, oversensitive. He sat, panting, and let his head fall back against Gideon’s shoulder once more.
After a minute, Gideon kissed his temple and gently lifted Cal, pulling free of his body, leaving him feeling empty and unsure. Gideon left the bed, doing away with the condom in the trash can. Cal fell onto the mattress, rolling to watch the older man as he moved. Gideon caught him watching, working his shirt open with a grin before peeling it off.
“You definitely have to be a superhero,” Cal mumbled.
“Is that so?” Gideon asked, chuckling.
Cal blushed. “Yeah. Not Superman, though. The glasses fooled me at first.”
Gideon made a noncommittal noise as he removed his pants and underwear. “Oh?”
Clothed, Gideon was impressive, but nude…nude, he was a masterpiece, flawless in a way that made Cal want to cover himself up. “Yeah. You’re rich and hot and kinky. Tell the truth, you’re Batman.”
Gideon shook his head as though Cal amused him, then strode naked to the kitchen, giving Cal a view from the back. He was just as beautiful but far from flawless at this angle. Scars of every shape and size criss-crossed his back all the way down to his rounded ass and muscular thighs. Jesus. What the hell? Cal couldn’t even imagine what would make marks like that. It was like he’d been mauled by a bear.
Gideon either didn’t notice Cal’s frown or was used to the reaction. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and brought it back to the bed. “Drink this.”
Cal gulped down the frigid water and sighed. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. He handed the empty bottle back to Gideon, who placed it on the bedside table before returning to bed and rolling to prop his head up on his hand, running a finger along Cal’s cheek. “How are you feeling, little bird? Are you alright?”
The tenderness in Gideon’s voice had tears springing to Cal’s eyes. His face flushed with heat as he fought to wipe his eyes before they escaped, but it was too late. “Ugh, what’s wrong with me?”
Gideon wiped his tears with his thumb, smiling. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were perfect. You were made for this.” Then why did he feel like he was cracking into a million little pieces? “It’s called subspace,” Gideon said as if reading his mind.
“What is?”
“This feeling that’s eating you up inside. When you’re in the moment, the pain gives you an endorphin rush, a sense of euphoria like you’re high. But when it’s over, it causes a bit of a crash, and that’s what’s happening now. It’s all perfectly normal. There’s nothing wrong with you. You far exceeded my expectations.”
Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better. He wanted to grab his clothes and escape. He felt foolish and choked up. This wasn’t some unique life experience, at least not for Gideon.
It happened to everybody he played with. It had meant nothing to him, not the way it had to Cal. “So, this happens with every boy you bring here?” Cal asked despite himself, hating how jealous he sounded.
Gideon chuckled, pushing a damp lock of Cal’s hair away from his face. “I didn’t say that. Most of the boys Hillary sends me are just doing a job. We play out the scene, of course, but it’s…lackluster. But you… I knew you were different almost from the moment I opened the door. I gave you every opportunity to run, but you didn’t. No matter how hard I pushed you, you rose to the challenge. That’s quite rare. You’re quite rare.”
Cal smiled, feeling himself blush. This wasn’t who he was in the real world. Gideon made him feel small and vulnerable and…protected, but out in the real world, Cal had learned a long time ago that there was nobody who would protect him. Still, this charade was nice. It was nice to imagine somebody caring for him, looking out for him.
He opened his mouth to ask another question but stopped short at the familiar sensation, a quivering in his belly like his organs shook. Shit. How had he not noticed? A chill racked his body, and his teeth chattered hard enough to worry about the enamel. Gideon frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
It was hard to speak. “My…my blood sugar. Diabetic. Too much insulin, not enough food. Juice,” he managed, blinking as his vision swam. Everything seemed far away, like somebody had wrapped his brain in cotton.
It would be just his luck that he slipped into a coma after the best night of his life.
Gideon watched as the boy’s eyes went hazy, still conscious but just barely. Christ. He jumped from the bed, grabbing juice from the fridge and poured it into a glass. When he returned to the bed, it was obvious the boy wasn’t capable of drinking on his own. He set the glass on the table, dragged his limp form into his arms, and tipped his head back. “Okay, work with me here, little bird. I just need you to swallow this, okay?”