Sex in C Major

Stefan's breath caught.

Oh God. It was too big. Far too big. He'd never-he'd tear. He'd be ripped apart if Daz fucked him just like that. Stefan couldn't do this. Couldn't-

"My turn," the voice rumbled again.

Teeth scraped Stefan's ear, and fingers wrapped around both of his biceps, forcing his arms flat to the mattress.

"You got off on two fingers and a thumb. Bit of lube and a massage all it takes for you?"

The breath rushed back in.

And Stefan suddenly wanted to do it.

"It's-it's not enough, please, fuck me, please, please "

The head pressed closer and Stefan yelled at the pressure, then cried as it was withdrawn and the shaft slid under him inside, rubbing against him but not inside.

"No, fuck me, please "

Fingers were forced in his mouth again.

"Suck them."

Stefan squirmed; his head was forced flat to the mattress, jaw caught between finger and thumb, the other three holding his tongue down inside his mouth. "Suck them, and shut up."

Stefan whimpered as the cock began to slide against him again. He could feel it-the skin, the veins, the pulse inside but he wanted it where those fingers had been, wanted to feel it moving inside of him, wanted it to hurt and feel good all at once, wanted to clench down around it to keep it there, wanted to imagine what he must look like, covered in spit and lube and split open around that hard dick-

But he couldn't. He could only suckle on the fingers in his mouth, and whimper as that cock rubbed against him, as the jeans his master still wore rubbed at his naked legs and hurt them, as the air was driven out of his lungs with every thrust. He could only lie, spread open and helpless, and take it. He was a body, a doll, a thing for his master's pleasure, nothing more—

The weight was raised off Stefan, and he was turned roughly onto his back. The grunt above him was so deep, the air seemed to reverberate around it. Something hot splashed over Stefan's belly and chest, and the fingers in his mouth pressed a little deeper before they were removed and the weight disappeared entirely.

"Look at me."

Stefan opened his eyes.

Daz was standing by the bed, already buttoning his jeans. He looked calm, almost cold, and Stefan suddenly felt vulnerable.

"Get that cum off your skin."

Stefan blinked, then glanced down himself. His dick was swollen and red, still wet. Cum was dripping down his stomach and hips. His skin was dark, bruised patches decorating him like paint. His lips felt swollen, his mouth torn. Inside, he felt hollow and scraped.

"Now!"

Stefan brought shaking fingers down and began to wipe at his skin.

"Clean it."

It tasted bitter. Tart. Vaguely unpleasant.

"I-I don't like it."

"Best learn to, then. You've got ten minutes. When I get back in here, you're going to be clean and ready to have your arse opened up as well. Understood?" "Y-yes, Sir."

Daz dropped a hand and slowly stroked Stefan's sore, abused shaft.

Then he smirked.

"Nice little torture device you've got there," he murmured.

Then he was gone.

And as the lock clunked into place, Stefan slowly ran his fingers through the mess on his belly, and sucked the evidence away. 5

The mobile said eight o'clock, and the front door slammed.

At five past eight, the lock on the door was released.

Stefan expected-something.

He didn't expect to have his jeans thrown at him, and Daz to kick the end of the bed.

"Get dressed and get out," he said briskly.

"We're we're done?"

"Yes. Get out."

"But-"

"Now!"

Stefan scrambled off the bed and stopped dead with a hiss.

"Oh, God."

"Stiff?"

"Yes." He whimpered as he straightened. His back hurt. His thighs hurt. Everything hurt.

"Whine about it on the street. Don't make me dress you."

Stefan fumbled with his clothes, struggling into them. Daz's scrutiny made him flush hot with embarrassment, and yet at the same time, he felt...good. Attractive, even.

And yet the moment he pulled his coat on, the collar was caught and he was dragged towards the stairs.

"Wait! When can we "

"Out."

"But when can we do this again?"

He was slammed roughly against the hall wall.

"Don't ask questions. You have your phone. I'll call it next time I need to stick my dick in you. Until then, you don't text me. You don't come to the house. You don't even call me. Got it?"

Stefan's heart hammered in his throat.

"Got it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"More like it. Now get out."

And with that, Stefan was shoved out into the cold, and the front door slammed behind him.