Page 38 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

“Tsk.” Cameron narrowed his eyes and let his gaze linger on the massive bulge inside my briefs. “Get down on your knees,” he said, gesturing with his head at the sofa.

I hesitated for a short while. “So you can make my ass red?” A tiny note of contempt touched my voice, but the fire in me blazed so hot that it was a wonder I could stand still at all.

“You deserve it, Riley,” he said, wielding so much power with nothing more but his smoky tone. “Walking in here with that bubble-butt, putting me through hell, asking for it…”

My breath hitched and my lips parted a little.

“You sexy little fuck,” Cameron said and it sure as hell got me to turn around and slide down onto the sofa, my knees sinking into the seat and arms folding over the back of it. My chest rested against my arms and I shuddered as I inhaled.

Cameron was slow and deliberate in his movement. He positioned himself behind me, pressing his fully dressed crotch against my ass. Then, he placed his hands on my hips and yanked me back against him. His soft sweatpants let the hardness of his cock rut against me. He swiped his thumbs along the edges of my briefs, tucking all of the fabric between my cheeks and baring my skin for the things he wished to do to me.

I was so fucking desperate to feel the bat on my flesh that I couldn’t contain a whimper. It broke out of me at the slightest touch of his palm against my body.

“Christ, Riley, you’re shaking,” Cam said, his voice considerably softer.

I inhaled a deep breath of air and held it for a short while. “Hurt me, Cam,” I whispered, harsher than I’d meant to, and bit my lip as I sensed him lean over for the paddle. Its smooth surface was beautiful on the skin of my cheeks. Cameron traced my butt with the tennis paddle, sending waves upon waves of chills up my spine. He pressed his free hand down on the small of my back, bending me until my ass was perched up for him.

“Your skin is so smooth,” he said, purring with pleasure. “It’s almost a shame to…”

The paddle slapped me hard and fast before I even knew he would do it. I yelped, digging my fingers into the sofa’s soft back. “Fuck,” I grunted.

“…make it so red and bruised,” Cam continued uninterrupted. “But my boy is needy.”

This time, I was ready, and he only got a strangled growl from me when the flat wood spanked my other cheek. The stinging spread all over my ass and the sensitivity to touch increased by a hundredfold. The smooth circling of the paddle over my skin was no longer just that, but a totally heightened experience.

“He likes to feel pain,” Cameron went on, sliding the paddle in a circular motion over my right cheek.

I could tell he was holding back and dipping his toe in first, testing what his ingenious device was capable of. When he spanked my right cheek again, I whimpered into the fold of my arm. Burning spread several inches around the place he had struck and he fast soothed the hurt.

“He likes when I punish him,” Cameron said, voice dropping lower, then landing another blow on the same side that made every muscle in my body cramp. I choked on a cry that never left my throat, but I was still far from the maximum I could take.

And Cameron knew it. He knew it so fucking well. In truth, he was the one who served obediently and I was the one coming out on top.

He slid his bare hand gently between my legs, cupping my tightly packed balls and pressing two fingers along the length of my trapped cock. He did it for a single purpose that I saw through right away. And it was the hottest fucking thing I knew.

When he spanked me on the left side, every inch of me pulsed, and Cameron hissed with pleasure as he felt my cock throb.

“My boy likes to play dirty,” he said finally, lifting the paddle and tightening his grip on my cock and balls, just short of making me uncomfortable. And when the blow landed, my head sprung up and I yelped, sweat breaking over my back and brow.

“Harder, you fucker,” I demanded.

“Easy, boy,” he grunted back at me.

“Coward.” The accusation, no matter how fictitious, still irked him enough to prove me wrong. Cam spanked me three times in a row, draining all the air out of me and leaving me shaking. He pulled back abruptly, hooking his finger under my briefs where they were tightly folded along my cleft. I could feel his knuckle brush against my pulsing hole and I shivered.

“Coward, huh?” he asked, slowly pulling the fabric of my underwear higher along my ass, tightening it over my cock and balls until I whimpered.

One of my hands shot down, desperate to free my cock of the pressure, but Cameron dropped the paddle against my ass again and it made me grab the sofa with all my might.

“Tsk,” he said. “No touching.”

I moaned in protest, but that was the extent of my abilities. Sweat beaded on my forehead, then trickled down my temples.

He pulled my briefs into my crease ferociously tight and the strength in his arm meant he would soon either lift me off the sofa or tear the fabric apart. I heard myself moaning, pleading with him for a little more, a little harder, but my words were a jumbled mess.

Cameron understood me, though. He knew that every ounce of pressure he applied and every bit of me he wrung was a promise of a brighter, harder, and more destructive finale. At long last, I could be loud. I could cry all I liked and he could spew filth without a care in the world.

We were all alone in the house and the realization freed me to spill a litany of filth back at him when he spanked me harder and faster. He held my underwear in his entire fist, now, yanking it up and rubbing my cock by extension, spanking me with the toy as much as he did with his hand when the toy became obsolete.