To hurt,is what he wanted to say.
“That’s right, Giovanni. Your pain and your pleasure belong to me now. I’d like to keep going. Color?”
“Green.”
I continue to spank him in rounds of five, some are hard and aimed at the meat of his ass, others are shallower, meant to sizzle and pop. His ass cheeks flame a fire engine red, puffy from the impact with so many of my handprints overlapping that they’re hard to distinguish from one another. His ass jiggles and tenses in concert with my hand, and every time my palm strikes skin, I get a little jolt of adrenaline, like the first hit of nicotine from my morning cigarette. Boy, do I miss smoking.
“Giovanni.” I rub his shoulder because he’s starting to drift.
“Hmmm?” he murmurs.
“Where are you right now?”
“Floating.”
I glide one hand over the hot skin of his ass, swollen and already starting to mottle and bruise. I should stop now. He’ll be sore tomorrow. I look forward to watching him gingerly try to sit down on the furniture or perch on the edge of it, twisting in bed to get comfortable for the night. Perhaps his face will flush with embarrassment. Shall I make him go nude so I can see the results of my labor? Pictures are a given.
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
“Mmmm?”
“Does this hurt?” I dig my fingers into the meat of his ass where it’s most tender. He arches backwards; his torso and spine curve in afigura serpentinata.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Take off your underwear and lie on the bed, ass up.”
He crawls off my lap, somewhat drunkenly, tears off his very fine underwear, and collapses on the mattress with his chest pressed flush against the bedding and his ass raised high in the air. My beautiful little pain slut—maybe, hopefully.
“Show me my hole,” I instruct while I slowly disrobe, taking care to lay my pants over an armchair so they won’t wrinkle.
He reaches back to spread his cheeks with both hands, offering himself readily. His asshole winks, tempting me like a street-corner hooker. I stroke my erection, looking forward to indulging in all that I’ve been denying myself. “Your Dom is pleased by your submission. Tell me what’s going to happen next.”
“You’re going to breed me,” he says drowsily, ass jutting backward with a wiggle.
“Until you’re what?”
“Full of cum.”
“Until you’re stuffed so full it’s overflowing. And when do you get to orgasm?”
“After you do.”
“Very good.” It’s not a rule, per se, more of a best practice. I can get Giovanni off in numerous ways, but I want to climax with my dick buried deep inside him. I should have plugged him before spanking him, I realize, as I begin the laborious task of preparing him for penetration, not because I don’t enjoy it, but because we’re both humming with adrenaline, and I’d like to be inside of him while he’s so open and relaxed.
“Spread your knees wider,” I tell him with my two fingers steadily stroking into his ass and my hand wrapped around his dick. “That’s it, sweetheart. You follow instructions so well during sex. If only you were this well-behaved all the time.”
“I’m a good boy,” he says.
“The very best boy and so hospitable to serve yourself up like this to your Dom.”
“I want you, Valentin. Green, green, green.”
I didn’t ask for a color. It’s his way of urging me on. And he also didn’t address me as Sir, but I rather like the sound of my name in this desperate plea. “I’m lining up now. Remember to push out while I press in.” I place a firm hand on his spine and begin my slow ascent. He’s so well-versed in ass play now that the ride is smooth and somewhat effortless.
“Oh,” he says, “Ohhhh.”
“Does this boy like having his Dom’s dick inside him?”
