tagBDSMA Perfect Fit Pt. 18

A Perfect Fit Pt. 18


All characters are over 18 years of age.

* * * * *

Jenni is safely installed in a booth at Danny's. If she listens attentively she can hear the sound of the river below which relaxes her along with the quiet ambiance of the diner. It's not crowded this evening; it's not a place you'd take a date for Valentine's Day. Not if you wanted to get some, anyway.

With a soft pencil, she sketches the pattern of the moonlight on the wide flowing water. It's a good exercise for her vision and to quiet her mind. She's got a lot to think about and is glad to be on her own with her thoughts for a little while.

"Pregnant. I'm pregnant," she whispers to herself.

If anyone had asked them as recently as this morning, either would have said they didn't want kids and shouldn't have them. They're both mentally ill and wasn't the world overpopulated, anyway? Besides, things were damn near perfect now: "Madly In Love," wasn't just the name of their business venture. They had a nice earning having exhibitionist sex whenever they wanted, did whatever they wanted, and Freddy was fitting in beautifully. Jenni was growing healthier and more productive all the time. This could change everything for the worse.

'Nothing you can do about it now,' she thinks.

'No, there is something you can do,' says a steely voice inside her. 'It might be the hard thing, but it's the right thing... for everyone.'

Jenni doesn't want to listen to that rational voice. Mark certainly doesn't like the thought.

He already calls it "the baby," and each time he does so, Jenni bites her tongue at the urge to remind him it's not a baby, it's more like a small shrimp at this point. It would be almost sacrilege to tell him that and felt like bad luck to say it out loud. Crazy as it is, she already has tender, maternal feelings and her Daddy's acting more Dom in subtle ways that would be thrilling to see become more pronounced as her belly does.

'This is a romantic fantasy. It's a disastrous idea, and you know it,' says the cold voice.

The voice has a point. After the ecstasy of carrying Mark's baby, then there's a helpless person to keep alive, no sleep, no sex, wrecked body, financial worries. She's in awe of Mark, but does she know him well enough to know he can handle this? What if it sends him or her or both of them back into madness? What if the stress drives him to use again?

"Sorry! I was on a break. What can I get you?"

Jenni is surprised to hear herself ordering just the green juice and not her usual.

"That's it?"

"Yeah, is that okay? I might be here a while and I can order something later, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, that's fine! When it's slow like this, we don't mind people hanging out, especially artists and writers. It adds to our rep," the waitress laughs and walks off to make the kale concoction. It actually appeals to Jenni and she realizes her body's been hijacked by Mark's DNA. He lives on stuff like that. Her, not so much. Maybe she was trying to take care of the baby and give it nutrients.

'It's not a baby, it's a prawn,' states the voice.

"Shut up," she whispers.

Jenni turns to a blank page and chooses a sharper pencil. She sketches Mark, of course, and decides to seat him on their big couch with his arm resting on Freddy, who's curled up with his head on Sir's lap. Jenni's seated at his feet. She draws herself with her normal breasts but exaggerates her belly to commemorate the day. Satisfied with her rendering of each of them, she writes at the bottom corner: "Valentine's Day 2018."

The waitress returns after quite a while. "Tell me you didn't make that entire drawing in the time it took me to make this drink! I don't really know what I'm doing with the juices, so you better taste it to make sure it's good."

"It's really good. Thanks for your trouble."

"It's no trouble," she lies. "Can I take a look?"

Jenni slides the sketchbook over. "It's my family."

"Wow, you're really good!"

"Thanks. I've been practicing more, lately. I'm improving."

The waitress stares at the drawing a moment, clearly wondering who the boys are in relation to her, but is called away. Jenni wasn't really in the mood to explain it for a second time today. She turns the page and begins again.

This time, something feels different. She sketches rapidly in a looser illustrative style. Somehow it's even more accurate and it feels automatic. Jenni watches her hand like she's watching an instructional video that's been time-lapsed. She takes deeps breaths to let it come through; sometimes when she has a breakthrough she gets too excited and scares it away.

The image taking shape is Mark and Freddy kissing in bed. It can't be possible, but she knows it's due to her psychic connection to Mark and that this is probably happening right now at home.

It turns out like a dream; the composition is perfect and their passion for each other comes through. There's good shading on the muscles they are both secretly so proud of, which they'll like. She decides it's good enough to give to them as a Valentine. Mark had told her that boys don't get Valentine's presents from girls, but she's pleased to have produced this to give them. It feels special, to her, and Daddy will be happy with her.

When she goes to caption it, she's puzzled she can't seem to do so. She means to write the same as on the previous page, but it's like she's forgotten how to form the letters. With great effort, she copies from the other page. The handwriting is not the same. It's disconcerting, and she recalls Dr. Z. asking her if she ever had trouble doing things she should be able to easily do.

'Maybe this is that "pregnant brain" people talk about.'

'Maybe you're losing your mind again. Maybe Little Jenni doesn't simply appear, but sends calling cards in advance of her arrival,' says the new, cold voice that seems determined to crush her optimism.

Jenni knows that her little self can't come out without Mark. That's how it's been explained to her and she believes in Dr. Z.

"Something else?" the waitress asks her, glancing at the erotic image on the table and blushing a little.

"Um, may I have a glass of milk, please?" she says, feeling a little out of control of the odd request coming out of her mouth.

"You got it."

Jenni was either developing cravings, turning little, or turning into someone else altogether... and that person is a better artist, she thinks, staring at the new drawing. It's okay with her if someone with that ability wants to take the wheel. So long as Daddy likes her, naturally. His happiness, keeping his approval means more to her than anything in the world, her own mind and body included.

"Here you are. And this is homemade, on the house. I thought milk with no cookie looked a little depressing." The sweet woman has brought her a sugar cookie with pink frosting.

"My favorite color!" Jenni exclaims.

"Like your hair," she notes.

Jenni savors the treat and then pays her bill, with a generous tip. She starts to write a little thank you note for the excellent service, but finds she's still illiterate. The extra cash will have to do.

Outside, Jenni makes the rash decision to ignore her brain shutting down and go to the art supply store. They stayed open until 10 PM and she could get a cheap frame to present her drawing to her boys.

She finds the right size and purchases it. "Do you mind if I put something in it right here?"

"Okay, do you want any help? That kind can be tricky to open," explains the shop clerk.

"Okay. Thank you. Here, it's this." Jenni carefully tears the page from her sketchbook.

The clerk looks startled by the drawing. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

"Holy shit. Did you do this?"

Had she done it? She's not entirely sure. "Yes. Do you think it makes a good Valentine?"

"I guess that depends who it's for," he chuckles.

Jenni smiles shyly. "My Daddy and his boy."

* * * * *

The bed creaks as Freddy climbs onto it. The sound excites Mark; though Freddy is his first same-sex attraction, he's quickly grown to love everything about his body, including his size.

"Lie on top of me," Mark commands.

"But I'm heavy, Sir."

"I know. I love it."

Freddy obeys him and covers him with his body. He kisses Mark's jaw, the scruff that frames his angel lips... traces his exquisite lineaments with a thick finger. "You're so beautiful it makes me ache inside, Mark.I want you so much... all the time."

"Ya make me ache, too, sweet boy," Mark murmurs and grinds his hard-on into his lover's. Mark never understood how frotting could feel like more than half of something, but he knows that even if this is how they have to make love it will be completely satisfying. He has to make sure his sub understands this, too. "You feel so good to me, baby. I know what ya want, but you're already perfect, understand?"

Freddy responds with a deeper kiss and more aggressive undulations against his Master. Mark can feel his lust emanate from every inch of his powerful body; he's well beyond horny. Mark moans loudly at the pleasure of being served so whole-heartedly. They lose their inhibitions, alone together, no girls, no cameras, and it's glorious.

Mark feels Freddy shudder and wonders if he's going to come like this. He won't stop him; he's too amazed at how easily they can get each other off to deny his boy anything. Mark could control himself, already planning ahead, mentally prepping him, visualizing what he's going to do to relax him fully and make him open for him. An orgasm first might help release some of his boy's nervous tension.

It's then he feels the tear fall onto his face and he realizes: Freddy's not close, he's crying. Mark ceases to fuck up into him, holds him tighter.

"Hey... sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Freddy sniffs, turning his face away.

"Now, you know better than that. You have to tell me. Does this feel wrong to ya, baby?"

Freddy stills, too and sighs, shuddering again.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just emotional for me."

"You can lay on me for real. I mean it, ya won't crush me."

His boy does as he's told and Mark loves it. He's not distressed.; he thinks he knows what this is about and he loves that, too. "What kind of emotional, baby?"

"It's just intense... needing... and wanting. I love you, Mark, more than I ever loved anyone or anything in my life. I'm sorry for crying. I'm sure that's not very sexy for you."

"Don't be so sure about that. Ya know how you have your fetishes that some people don't understand? This is mine. There's even a name for it: Dacryphilia. Means ya get excited by tears, cryin'... I never wanna see you hurt or grievin', but cryin' 'cause making love with me feels so good? Fuck, yeah, I like that."

Freddy returns his lips to Mark's and stops fighting the tears. Mark can taste them now. "Mmm, delicious, Freddy." Mark can feel his smile. "Now lie on your front... on the bed."

Freddy releases Mark and lies down with his hands at his sides. When he feels Mark get up, he makes an involuntary, puppyish sound that makes Mark's heart twinge.

"I'm comin' right back, just gettin' stuff."

He returns with the remaining oil and other items. He pours some of the oil between Freddy's broad shoulders and starts a rough massage that will force him to surrender. "The deep tissue touch hurts when ya fight it. You have to relax for me and I'll get these knots out of your muscles."

"Yes, Sir." Mark feels him obey right away and he realizes how he's in control of every inch of his body. This should be a sobering thought, but for Mark, it makes him nearly drunk with excitement. He can feel his boy melting under his strong fingertips.

"Freddy. Tell me what you need from me. I don't just mean right at the moment; I mean in general. Tell me what will make you happiest."

"I just want to be with you, Sir," is his unsurprising reply.

"You have that. What else?"

"Maybe... I don't know... if you could want it to be like this..."

"Freddy, spit it out. I know you speak four languages. You can do this." Granted, Mark's turning him into jello with his hands, so he can hardly blame him for struggling to express his thoughts.

"It doesn't have to be just sexual things... quotidian things, too, things you make me do in public that only we know are kinky..."

"Oh, I see. You want me to step it up? Control you more? Boss you around a little more?"

"Yes, Sir, if you don't mind. I like you the way you are... just, if you want to be more controlling... I like that."

"Interesting." Mark works into Freddy's amazing side muscles, the ones for balancing. He must have these from shifting heavy objects around in the studio, Mark thinks...


"Sorry baby. I got distracted by your anatomy. I love this part, here," he says, petting gently. "I can try it. Havin' a little girl has made me a light touch. I can be bossier. Just let me know if it ever gets oppressive. There's a fine line between being a Dom and bein' a typical male."

"You are nowhere near that line, Mark. I'll tell you."

"You better. I don't want you to get sick of this."

"Never, Sir!" The idea that Freddy could be the one to end "this" had obviously never crossed his mind.

Mark's hands travel lower to the small of his back. "Man, these muscles are tight. Have you ever had a massage in your life?" he asks with concern.

"Not in a while. And there is a certain young man who likes to ride around on my back," he chides.

"Sorry. I won't jump on ya anymore."

"You can do anything to me, Sir."

"I know. There are better ways to ride you."

"You're a devil."

"And you have a gorgeous ass, you know that?" Even Mark is surprised he'd say that. He's not sure he's ever even considered another guy's ass before, but his boy's is lovely... and bigger and rounder than his girl's and right under his fingertips at the moment.

"No one has ever told me, Sir. I'm glad you like your property."

"I like the sound of that," Mark growls. He scratches into Freddy's pale cheek with his sharpest nail.

"Are you writing your name?"

"Yep." He lowers to lick it and then blow cool air on the reddened skin. He stops himself, but he does want to eat his boy's ass. He had better go slower. The point is to relax him, not freak him out. Everyone has such different comfort levels around anal play and he doesn't want his inexperienced boy to be turned off from it. He'll save the tongue fuck for another occasion.

He strokes shallowly between his buttocks instead. "Does that feel good, Freddy?"

"Oh yes. That feels good, Sir."

"Can I go deeper?"

"Yes, Sir." Mark can hear his vocal chords tighten, which indicates how he might feel elsewhere.

"Relax for me. I know it's hard, but also that you're my good boy and you love to do as I say."

"Yes, Sir."

Mark finds him to be slightly open still from the plug before he reflexively clamps shut. He expected that. He feels brand new, but has definitely been playing recently.

"I'm sorry, Sir! I'm trying. I really want this!"

"Shh, I know ya do. And I'm real happy with you, baby. I can tell you've been doing as I said. Christ, when you told me in the store earlier you were wearing a butt plug I almost got on my knees right then and there..."

"That guy's head would have exploded, Sir." Freddy's relaxing asshole winks as he giggles, which Mark finds adorable.

"I intend to play with ya in public, but not like that. I'm not that crazy, babe." Mark keeps adoring him with his fingertip. Freddy starts to squirm subtly against the soft covers. "Tell me what you've been doing at home to obey me."

"I did some reading..."

"That's always a good start. Go on..."

"I got a few toys from a site for men that were recommended. I've been experimenting every night I'm at my house."

"Very happy to hear that, sweetheart. Do you like the feel?"

"Yes, Sir. I come so much harder with the toys than masturbation alone. With Jenni today, it was amazing. Thank you!" he adds, blushing because perhaps he didn't have to be quite so enthusiastic about his owner's girl's cunt.

Mark growls with pleasure. "Can I put my fingers inside you now? I can show you what feels good to me, if you're ready. You feel ready for that, baby," Mark states.

"Yes, Sir," he says hesitantly.

"Does that mean 'no'?"

"It's just... isn't that kind of... unsanitary, Sir?"

"Want me to wash my hands first?" Mark knows he shouldn't joke. This is a hang-up many people have. It's his (rather infuriating) way of putting someone at ease.

"No! I meant... I don't want to make you dirty. I don't think there's anything there... I've been fasting to be clean, but, maybe there's still a bit of..."

"Fasting?! You been starvin' yourself to be clean inside?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh Freddy, you are so very, very good. You can't do that again though, got it? You'll hurt your body. If you got concerns about that, I know what to do. I'll take care of ya first next time we fuck, okay?"

"Okay. Sorry, Sir."

"Nothing to be sorry about. You're a dream, ya know that? Look... anal sex is always a little bit messy. I ain't gonna freak out if there's a residue, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," Freddy says sounding relieved.

"So just put that out of your mind... because I'm gonna touch you inside now."

"Yes, Sir." Freddy's apprehension had turned to relief, and then returned to his original eagerness. There's a reason why Mark has two submissives and that they are both smitten; he's as brilliant at controlling their experiences as he as at painting pictures.

Mark applies some lube and his finger enters his boy with no dramatic reaction. He explores gently. "You feel fine inside, in case you're wonderin'. Can you take a second finger now?"

"Yes, it's good, Sir."

Mark adds his second finger and finds his firm bump. When he presses, that does earn him a reaction from Freddy's whole body.

"Ahh! Oh god, Mark!"

"Surprised? Not sure ya been using them toys right, baby," he quips.

"This feels so good... the way you do it, Master!"

Once again, Mark grins at the honorific. He's on his game today. Good! It's the day to be.

"I'm glad ya like it so much... I'll be sure to do it frequently. It's real good for your health."

"I don't care about my health! I mean... it just feels so good..."

Mark chuckles. "That's why I'm doin' it," he whispers like it's a secret. "Milkin' you like this, you can have lots of orgasms before you empty your balls. I can make ya come over and over, like my plaything."

"God, Mark!" he cries.

"Was that one of 'em?"

"Yes," Freddy whimpers. Mark withdraws his fingers. "No! Please, please don't stop yet!"

"I just want you to turn over on your back for me. I ain't done with you, sweet boy."

Freddy complies as fast as Mark's ever seen him move. When they sometimes wrestle, Mark wins because of his superior quickness, though they are not the same weight class. That and Freddy likes losing to his Master.

Freddy sprawls out before Mark, who kneels between his legs, much like his sub does when he serves Jenni at Mark's command. He returns his fingers to his boy's relaxed entrance. This time, he doesn't tell him, but carefully uses three.

"How does it feel like this?"

"So good, Sir!"

"You're bein' such a good boy, Freddy." Mark truly couldn't be happier... or harder at the sight of his shy boy gone wild. Mark continues to gently assault his prostate and sticky fluid streams from his boy's slit as well as his own. He waits until he's helped Freddy through another minor death, then withdraws from his body once again. Freddy looks as desperate as Jenni gets; Mark has never seen the man this undone and it makes him fall a little deeper in love with him.

Mark knows it will look like he's being a cruel bastard, but he gets up to go to a drawer. He takes his time choosing, just to watch Freddy squirm, then selects a plug of his own.

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