by Luna, David
When he was done, he kept his grip and looked up into his Dom’s eyes. He looked so fierce, as if he was barely able to hold on to his control. Sebastian hoped that meant he’d be deliciously sore in the morning with a few bruises, if he was lucky. He saw when Gideon narrowed his eyes at him and his heart took up a hard, staccato rhythm in his chest.
“Do you enjoy teasing me, boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Gideon raised a brow, and ordered, “Prep yourself.”
Sebastian smiled, eyes half-mast, and licked his lips. He turned around on his knees and leaned forward, bracing his forehead on his forearm on the floor of the shower, ass as high as he could raise it and still remain on his knees, he slid his other hand between his legs and used the remainder of the lube coating his hand to coat his crease.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed his own ministrations. Slowly, knowing Sir was watching, he rubbed his fingers up and down his crack, sliding one finger in, up and down again, and then two fingers in. He pumped them in and out several times and then added a third and moaned at the stretch, smiling to himself when he heard a muttered curse and a groan.
He gasped when he felt Sir’s palms spread his cheeks. He opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to look over his shoulder. Gideon had taken a knee and was staring at his fingers still lodged in his tight hole. He pumped them in and out again enjoying the look on Gideon’s face, loving the stretch of his ass being held wide open by those huge hands. He turned back around and leaned his head on his arm again and simply took pleasure in being watched and pleasing him.
He let out a guttural moan and nearly shouted, “Oh god, Sir!” When he felt teeth on his left ass cheek and then his right. These weren’t gentle love nips, no, these were full-on painful bites that would leave teeth marks and bruises in the morning. His cock jumped and more precum dripped from the tip. The bites were followed by hard spanks on both cheeks, right on top of the bite marks and if he hadn’t anticipated it, he’d have come then and there.
“Turn around and face me.”
He slid his fingers from his ass and slowly turned around, kneeled and waited for further instruction. Gideon lowered his other knee and kneeled himself, spreading his legs apart. “Wrap yourself around me.”
Giddy, Sebastian scrambled up, wrapping his arms around his neck and hitching his legs up, he wrapped them around his waist, trapping their cocks between them. Gideon gripped his ass cheeks and then stood and pressed them against the wall, Sebastian’s back making contact with the cold tiles.
He gasped when Gideon turned on the other showerhead and turned both directly on them. Sebastian warmed immediately. Sir leaned down to kiss him and he lost all rational thought. Seconds ticked into minutes and he lost track of time and self until he felt the bulb of Gideon’s cockhead at his entrance. There was no teasing, no prepping, making him glad he’d prepped himself. He went from zero to sixty in two seconds and was balls deep, the momentum moving Sebastian up the wall another inch.
Sir pulled back and looked into his eyes, the look on his face one of barely controlled violence. Sebastian shivered but didn’t break eye contact. He needed Sir to know that he wanted to be what he needed. This wasn’t for him, this was for Sir. The phone call had fucked up their equilibrium, and if he had to be pounded through the bathroom wall to bring his Dom back down, he’d enjoy the ride.
Sir leaned in and whispered menacingly, “I’m gonna take your breath away.”
Sebastian sucked in a breath, knowing he meant it literally and not in any figurative romantic sense. He whispered right back, “Take what you need from me, Sir.”
Gideon growled, “Fuck.” He pulled nearly all the way out and slammed his cock home again. “If you need to safeword, tap-out on the wall.”
“Yes, Sir, but I won’t need to. I need this as much as you do.”
Gideon’s gaze narrowed and he nodded. “You do not have permission to come. Deep breath.”
Sebastian leaned his head against the shower wall and did as he was told, sucking in as much air as he could. Gideon gently placed his hand over Sebastian’s mouth and nose, and then Sebastian was closing his eyes as Gideon gripped his ass with his other and set a brutal pace, letting the high build. He was crushed between the wall and Gideon’s equally unforgiving, muscular chest. Feeling more alive than he’d felt since the surgery, a dizzying euphoria stole his conscious thought as his greedy hole was drilled.
Gideon groaned as he pounded into him without reprieve, an animal acting on instinct without thought. Sir bit down hard on the juncture between his neck and shoulder and Sebastian gasped and bucked, nearly coming. Gideon bit higher on his neck, never slowing the pace of his pistoning hips. Finally, his teeth clamped down on his earlobe before he pulled back and glared, snarling, “Why’d you force my hand? You weren’t ready for this.”
Sebastian glared and nodded his head and then his eyes went wide. At the last second, Gideon changed his grip and allowed Sebastian to suck in much needed air. He resumed his hold over his nose and mouth, and Sebastian reveled in the fact that he couldn’t breathe in again until Sir made it possible. That was what he’d needed. He didn’t want control. He’d needed so desperately to hand it over to Gideon, not just in the everyday things, but in this, and for his every breath.
They were so tuned to each other, Gideon loosened his grip again, Sebastian sucked in air and his head spun when that hand cut off his last desperate gulp and he was lost to every point of pain and pleasure. His head was a whirlwind of feelings, thoughts, emotions. His hole clamped down convulsively on the thick, meaty length of Sir’s cock as it slammed in and out of him. His prostate was getting a workout and he didn’t know if he could take much more without letting go.
A deep, animalistic growl roared out of his Dom and he pulled back, removing his hand from his nose and mouth. He nodded and Sebastian sucked air back in and then Sir’s huge hand was on his throat, squeezing and he was moaning, keening, bucking back into Gideon’s thrusts. He tightened his grip around Gideon’s waist with his legs and loosed his grip from around his neck, both hands clutching at Gideon’s forearm as his hand clamped even harder down on his throat.
He heard a guttural groan and then Sir’s powerful hips lost their rhythm and Sebastian felt the pulsing heat of Sir’s cum coat his insides, making him moan as he tried and failed to pull in a breath. Sir must have felt it, because his grip loosened, but stayed in place as he gulped desperately for the air he so needed.
Gideon leaned his forehead against Sebastian’s, both of his hands now gripping Sebastian’s ass, eyes closed as his chest rose and fell, his need for oxygen obviously matching that of Sebastian’s. They both recovered in silence—Gideon from his orgasm, Sebastian from the breath play and merciless pounding. He was still floating a couple minutes later, when Gideon reached for something and Sebastian wrapped both arms around his neck, holding on, never wanting to let go. Sir’s grip tightened on his ass cheek, and then his other hand was reaching under him to touch his cock where it entered Sebastian’s ass.
Hoping he knew what was coming, he gripped Sir harder and groaned when he felt Gideon’s cock slip slowly almost all the way out of his ass. Quickly, Gideon pulled out fully and slid in the fat plug Sebastian had been hoping for deep into his ass, catching the cum before it could escape. The gesture made Sebastian shudder and he buried his face in Gideon’s neck and kissed him there.
“That what you needed, boy?”
Sebastian hummed and nodded into his neck. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Gideon bent down and placed Sebastian on the bench seat and kissed him. He was still being hit by enough of the spray to feel warm, but Gideon adjusted the showerhead so that it rained down on his shoulders and back. He glanced up, absentmindedly. “How in the hell is it still hot?”
Gideon chuckled as he grabbed the bar of soap and began to lather himself up to wash the sweat of his double workouts off. “The benefits of owning the building and installing a commercial-sized wate
r heater for the whole thing.”
Sebastian hummed, swaying a bit on the bench. The showerhead Gideon was using turned off and then his as well, a warm bath sheet wrapped around his shoulders. Next thing he knew he was leaning against a mound of pillows on the bed, a bottle of water in his hand, Gideon stretched out beside him. He was still floating a bit and was lying, exposed and still in need of relief.
Gideon traced the outlines of the tattoos on his skin. “They’re beautiful. So vibrant. I can see your artistry in them. What made you choose where to put them?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Because the locations are so random?”
Gideon shrugged and smiled down at him. “There’s gotta be a method to the madness. It’s unlike you to do things without thought.”
Sebastian hummed in agreement and added, “If I can reach it, I’ll tattoo it.”
“Wait. You did all these? How? Shit, I haven’t even paid attention enough to know if you’re left-or right-handed.”
“Ambidextrous. Had to teach myself to be, but it helps a tremendous amount with tattooing. Others, and myself.”
“Yeah, I can see how it would. How does one go about teaching themselves to use both hands?”
“Uh, well…” He touched his palm to his PWS and continued, “When I was a kid and my parents told me what was wrong with me, I started going to the library to read everything on the subject. When I found out weakness in the limbs, or even paralysis on the side of the body opposite the PWS is really common, I started to train myself to use my right hand just as well as I could use my left.”
“And you’ve got some weakness there, right?”
“Yeah. I think it was brought on as the seizures got worse. I wanted to be able to do whatever it was I wanted to do with my other hand, if my left was paralyzed.” He glanced into Gideon’s eyes. “It could still happen. The surgery isn’t going to be a miracle cure for everything.”
Gideon slid his hand up Sebastian’s chest to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. “I know that. You aren’t the only one who’s done research.”
Sebastian’s eyes filled. “Really?”
“Of course, I started just after you told me. But let’s not talk about that. I wanna know more about your past. How you got into art and became a tattoo artist, how you became a submissive.”
Sebastian snorted, laughing at the absurdity of it. “We’re so backwards. We’re in love and committed to being with each other, and we haven’t even learned about each other’s pasts. It’s a bit topsy turvy, isn’t it?”
Gideon chuckled and admitted, “Yeah, I guess it is. But I still wanna know.”
Sebastian nodded. “Well, I knew I wanted to be an artist of some kind when I was a kid. My homelife left a lot to be desired, so I spent a lot of time in my room or outside drawing. I had this great art teacher in high school who really helped me. I got bullied a lot, and she always let me come to her class during my free period and at lunch. But in the end, that bullying is what sent me to school and eventually got me my house, so I guess I can’t complain too much.”
“How’s that?” Gideon questioned, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“A legal settlement.” Sebastian glanced down and then back up again. “It’s a long story.”
Gideon shrugged. “We have time.”
Sebastian sighed and then proceeded to share his past with the man who would be his future.
He’d been a senior in high school. He lived with his parents in their house, but it had never been a home. His parents had long since divested themselves of him except to make sure he understood he was a burden, an embarrassment, and a disappointment, and that was before he told them he was gay. There was no question that he’d be tossed out the door the second he graduated.
Bullying had been his constant companion from the moment he entered middle school and on through high school. Being different and considered weak was a death sentence for fitting in. One of his worst tormentors was a popular rich kid named Jeremiah Broderick. He picked on Sebastian every chance he got. Teachers usually intervened on his behalf, all except the gym teacher, Mr. Terry.
Mr. Terry was an older, poorer, and less attractive version of Jeremiah. A man who had told Sebastian on more than one occasion—each time Sebastian went to him to ask him to help him stop the bullying, “Buck up and take it like a man. You need to toughen up and not be such a pussy.”
It had been rugby day in gym class. He’d already had a run-in with Jeremiah and his crew. His knees were bruised from the numerous times he’d been tripped running laps. Teams were picked and the game had begun. The ball had been thrown to Sebastian, he’d done his best to pass it to a teammate, but everyone had conveniently looked away.
Jeremiah had grabbed him, wrenched his arm behind his back at an impossible angle, and landed on top of him. From there, the huddle of boys all converged and landed on top of them. Everyone’s combined weight had dislocated his elbow and caused a spiral fracture.
The bell rang and Mr. Terry was nowhere to be seen. The boys got up, each and every one of them kicking him before leaving him broken and crying in pain. Ten minutes passed before the groundskeeper found him. Kneeling down beside Sebastian, he asked, “What happened here? Do you need help?”
Sebastian nodded. “Some boys in gym class attacked me. I think my arm is broken.”
The man placed his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, muttering, “Damn bullies get worse every year. Hang in there, okay? I’ll go get the nurse.”
She arrived and called nine-one-one and he’d been transported to the hospital where the police and his parents were waiting. He’d been stabilized and a temporary cast had been put on until the surgery was scheduled, he’d had to stay overnight because of a concussion caused by several kicks to the head.
The police questioned him and he’d been forced to relate the whole embarrassing story in front of his parents. One of the officers asked, “Do you want to press charges?”
He’d started to say no, but his parents interrupted, “Yes. The people who hurt our son need to be punished.”
The officers took a few more pieces of information and left soon thereafter, finally allowing him to rest.
He awoke to his parents speaking with their pastor. He pretended he was still asleep while he listened to Pastor Greggory and his parents, making plans that made him sick. They all seemed gleeful that he was finally proving useful. The church had many needs and perhaps his little accident would be just the thing to help their little fledgling house of worship. They decided he’d sue the school, teacher, Jeremiah, and perhaps even the school board, for good measure.
Pretending he was still asleep, his parents and the pastor finally left. He thought about what they’d planned. He didn’t disagree with the idea completely, but he didn’t find anyone at fault, except Mr. Terry and Jeremiah and decided to press charges against them. He’d lain there and made plans of his own. He had some money stashed away from doing work throughout the neighborhood. His parents had no idea how much he had set aside. They also had no idea he’d been accepted to art school and been awarded partial scholarships, and a few grants.
All that remained was room and board and if he sued and won it might be exactly what he needed to begin a life far away from his parents. He’d gotten home the next day and started to research. He knew he needed to avoid his parents and their pastor providing their own lawyer, so he found what sounded like a good lawyer online and made an appointment. As he walked out of the law office the next day, he’d retained his own lawyer.
At dinner that night, his parents explained that Pastor Greggory was contacting his lawyer for them but he explained, “There’s no need. I already found one with an excellent reputation. He’s won a lot of cases like mine.”
While they were skeptical, they’d gotten excited when he told them how successful his lawyer was. The gleam in their eyes was unmistakable. His father had patted him on the back and said, “We’re glad you’ve finally done something useful.�
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They assumed he’d just fall in line with what they decided for him, allowing them to have the money, no questions asked. They never even gave a thought to the fact that he was eighteen years old, so any and all of the money would go to him.
It had taken months of evidence gathering, arbitration and mediation for an alternative dispute resolution, but when the other parties realized he wasn’t going to give an inch, and the courts could do a lot more damage, they’d settled out of court. The settlement was for two hundred thousand dollars plus legal fees and was deposited in his account several days before graduation.
With the help of his lawyer, he’d purchased himself a used car and parked it in the parking lot of the law office. The night before he left, he’d stuffed it full of everything he owned, and was off the day of his graduation, leaving his parents a long letter telling them how he’d felt for years, living under their roof, and many other things, including the fact he was gay, and what had really happened with the legal settlement.
He’d been halfway through his first year of school for a degree in fine arts, when he’d felt the need to seek part-time work. He’d applied all over town and was offered a position as a barista and as a front desk clerk at a tattoo studio. He’d taken a chance on the tattoo studio and never looked back.
One day, about three months into his new job, he’d been caught by his boss drawing in his spare time when there was a lull in business, but instead of getting in trouble, his job had been slightly upgraded to clerk/apprentice and he was given a slight raise.
It’d made for a ridiculously hard year where he worked and studied himself into exhaustion. He was so busy he didn’t have time for a social life and remained isolated from others. As a result, he ended up in a pseudo-relationship with his boss and owner of the tattoo studio, only finding out after they’d slept together that he was a Dom. He’d explained to Sebastian that he thought he was naturally submissive and if he wanted a relationship with him, he’d need to be trained as a proper sub.
