Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ishmael
Ishmael watched his pet stimulate his prostate by playing with the dildo lodged in his ass. He stood up, moving from his seat to where he could kneel behind his boy. He repositioned him so that his head faced the cockpit, giving him more room to move for what he was about to do next. His cock was already hard and aching once more. He reached his hand out, stilling Kris’ hand when he could no longer hold himself back.
“Enough,” he said, pushing Kris’s hand away. He grasped the tail and pulled it out. He groaned at the sight of his pet’s gaping hole. He watched as it began to contract. It would hold his cock in a tight, velvet embrace he knew. “Will you give me your pain?” he asked.
“I’m yours. All yours,” Kris said, hanging his head down.
He shoved Kris’ chest down so that his shoulders touched his forearms. “Then brace yourself. I will not be gentle.” He lined his prick up and shoved in deep.
Kris wailed at the intrusion, the only lube preparing the way what was left from the dildo’s insertion and not yet absorbed and the spit as yet undried on his prick. He felt Kris clamp down in response. He stilled. When Kris instinctually pushed out to try to rid himself of his invader, he shoved forward again, this time not coming to a stop until his balls nestled against the pert globes of his pet’s ass. Kris panted.
“It hurts. Please,” he begged.
Ishmael draped himself over Kris’ back and licked the salty tears running down his cheek. “You are so beautiful in your agony. Please, give it all to me to savour.”
Kris sniffled, then gave a nod. Ishmael began sawing in and out of him, his pace even more brutal than when he’d taken his mouth. He looked at the way Kris’ skin whitened under his fingertips, knowing there would be vivid bruises for him to press into in the days to come, adding to the pain. It made his cock swell even harder.
Ollie rose and stepped around them, holding a small camera. “Sir?” he asked.
“Yes, right where we’re connected. I want to be able to savour this first time again and again,” he gasped.
Ollie perched to where he could get a good angle. Ishmael knew he’d get it all. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d filmed a keepsake moment with one of his playthings. This, this was different, though. Those had been mere toys. Kris was more important, worthy of his first fuck being immortalised. Ishmael slowed his thrusts, dragging his cock out slowly. He watched as Kris’ muscles dragged backwards with him. He paused, spat down into his crease, then shoved back in,. He did a few more times before speeding up his thrusts, Kris wailing in counterpoint. He closed his eyes, his hips stuttering ass Kris’ pained cries reached a crescendo, sending him over the edge.
He draped himself over Kris’ back, kissing his neck as he sobbed. “Thank you. You were delicious.”
“I-I…something’s wrong with me,” Kris sobbed.
“Mm?” Ishmael asked, kneeling upright and pulling his softened cock free. He cocked his head, eying Kris’ swollen, abused hole. He shoved a finger in then withdrew it, looking at what was on it before holding it font of Kris’ mouth. Kris licked his finger clean. “You’re a little raw, but not too bad. Nothing some antiseptic cream and a bit of rest won’t cure.”
“Not that,” Kris sobbed. He rolled over, his meaning immediately evident. He’d come, and hard.
Ishmael sucked in a breath.
“I’ve got that, too,” Ollie said softly.
“You really are made for me,” Ishmael murmured, gathering his pet into his arms. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up and changed.”
Ollie stood up, turning the camera off. “There should be some wipes in the bathroom.”
Ishmael nodded, pulling Kris to a standing position and walking him to the bathroom. He yanked open the door, leaving it open as he bent Kris over. Taking the wipes from where they were next to the toilet, wedged in a magazine holder, he cleaned up his lover, but not before dragging his fingers through the mess. Kris looked good like this, wrecks and leaking the proof of his ownership. Ollie reappeared, holding out a pair of sweatpants and a soft grey sweatshirt. He took them from him, then turned Kris around.
“No underwear?” Kris asked.
“No socks, either,” Ishmael pointed out. “I think he just reached into the bag and grabbed something without thinking t much.”
Kris laughed shakily. “Yeah, that’s okay. I hope there are shoes.”
“There is,” Ollie said. Ishmael looked up, catching sight of Ollie’s embarrassed expression in the mirror. “I didn’t think about undies, sorry. They’re still in the pack, brand new and sealed. The socks were on a hangar, so I went back and grabbed a pair while getting the shoes.”
“Don’t worry about it. Easier access this way, anyway.”
Kris blushed at Ishmael’s crude words, he glanced down at the sweats in his hand and began tugging them on over his leg.
So responsive.
Ishmael couldn’t wait to feel his boy beneath him once more. Next time, he wanted to fuck him face to face, making him hold his own ankles up by his ears as he pounded into him. More lube next time, but only one finger’s worth of prep. He’d pound him so hard, he’d feel him in his tonsils as he screamed. Then he’d take the cum that he’d spray on himself and make him eat it. First, though, he needed to heal a bit.
He watched as Kris finished dressing, all the while thinking of what fun could be had while he healed.
Back onto the cushion by my chair while I eat. Only this time, he has to suck me off while I eat. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Only cum to eat for three days. Then, a bit of food but only after he has my cum. And if he resists? He’ll only have my piss to drink.
His cock hardened in his pants once more. Kris stared it, eyes wide, and swallowed.
“Finish dressing. When we get to where we’re going, I’ll treat your hole. It’ll be a few days before I can fuck it again.”
He didn’t miss the look of relief that flitted across Kris’ features.
Ah, sweetling, what surprises I have in store for you instead.
