Decoding Desires Ch. 03

Lee looks me over again. "Take off your shirt, too," he adds as an afterthought. It's over my head and on the floor in my next breath. "Fuck, Brat. You're beautiful."

"Thank you, Sir," I whisper, eyes down again. I don't know what else to say.

"Over my lap, Brat. I'm going to spank you for being bad."

A pathetic whine escapes from me before I can stop it, my eyes going straight to the wall of pain, because that's what I'm calling it from now on. He sees me looking and chuckles.

"None of those today, Brat. You've never been spanked before, so today I'll do it with my hands. This way I can learn your pain tolerance, and can learn what you like."

"People like pain, Sir?" I ask, realizing that the question is dumb. I'm not completely ignorant of S&M, just, like, it was never something I thought about before.

He chuckles. "Let's find out, Brat. On my lap. Now."

I step towards him and he pulls me the rest of the way until I'm over his lap, my head pressed on the bed, reminding me of Dream Sir telling me to eat the floor. He adjusts me until he's comfortable, and I have to admit, I'm weirdly comfortable, too. One of his big hands begins stroking my left ass cheek over my underwear.

"What's your safe word, Brat?"

"Coffee, Sir," I say, but it's muffled by the bed. I turn my head and repeat it.

"Good boy, Brat. You say that and I stop, no questions, no disappointment. You literally cannot disappoint me right now, okay?"

I swallow three times before I can say anything, and then I still can't say anything, so I nod instead. He stops stroking and grabs my ass in his hand, squeezing in a way that feels amazing.

"Brat, you look so good over my lap," he praises. He still has my ass cheek in one hand, his other hand is now travelling up and down my spine. "I'm going to punish you for coming twice when I said not to, and after that we'll see if you've earned a reward."

"Thank you, Sir," I whisper. The hand on my back stops tracing my spine and lands on the valley of my lower back, a comforting pressure there. The other hand releases my ass and then...

Sir's hand smacks my ass cheek. It doesn't hurt, but it does sting, and the sound I make is embarrassing as fuck. He smacks my other cheek with the same pressure, then strokes me again. He smacks me again, the same amount of firmness and I don't make the noise again, and I'm proud of myself, but I should've known better.

His hand comes down a little harder on the next round, and then a little bit harder with each new round, evenly spreading the pain out between my cheeks. I'm tolerating it until maybe the fifth loop, and then it hurts. Like, I've never felt anything like it, a smacky-stinging pain, but also a kind of thuddy pain, and before I can process it, Sir is spanking the other cheek, each time it's getting harder and I can't hold it in anymore.

I'm thrashing on his lap, trying to get away from the stinging pain, but somehow also loving every freaking second of it. I want him to spank me harder. I want him to stop spanking me. I want both things at the same time and fuck, I can't think straight.

My world narrows down to the consistent, almost rhythmic strikes of Sir's palm against my cheeks. He doesn't give me enough time between strokes to think, all I am is need and want and pain and lust and...

"Be still, Brat," Sir commands, pausing. "Do you need to use your word?"

I'm a whiny, sloppy mess on his lap, but I don't want to be anywhere else. "No, Sir," I whisper, my throat raw.

"Fuck," Sir breathes out. "Good boy, Brat," he says louder. "Halfway done."

I whine, and it's fucking pathetic, but Sir's bulge pulses against my belly when I do and I stop holding back because he likes it. He tears my underwear down then strikes me again, and the sensation is new, yet familiar. He's seemed to have found a pressure he likes, because he's been smacking me pretty consistently for a few loops of smacks and I can't think again as he speeds up.

I'm whining and moaning and crying out and when I realize it I'm embarrassed again and try to hold my breath so I don't make those noises, already having forgotten that I thought Sir liked it when I made those noises.

"Don't hold back, Brat," he whispers into my ear. His hand on my back is suddenly holding me down and he's smacking me hard and fast and I'm writhing and thrashing and it's so freaking intense that nothing else matters. Everything else slips away and I'm floating and the pain is there and it's real and I love and hate it at the same time, but I also feel a peace so deep that I don't need to thrash anymore.

I'm still making the noises, it still hurts and requires every second of my attention, but I want it. I feel high in the best way possible. After an indescribable amount of time his smacks slow down, and the pressure of his other hand on my back is perfection. I'm an ooey-gooey mess of a man over Sir's lap, I've literally melted into him.

Sir's hand rubs my angry cheeks in a way that is both soothing but also still painful and if I could I'd be purring. "Thank you, Sir," I manage to say when I remember how words are formed.

"You okay?" Lee asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

"I'm fine, Sir," I insist, the words hard to find in my head right now. "So fine. Very fine. All the fine." I swallow hard, then add, "Sir."

"Good boy, Brat. You did so well. I'm very proud of you. I knew you could take it."

"Thank you Sir," I reply, never wanting to leave his lap, but also horny as hell. My dick isn't hard, my spanking took every ounce of my attention, but my little man is reminding me that he's there, and he's eager for Sir's attention. I realize I'm moving, rubbing myself against Sir's lap, and it's shameful, but I'm done, I've got nothing to hide from Sir. He somehow knows what a needy mess I am.

I'm struck by how quickly I've come to trust Lee, it should scare me, but instead it fills me with something that I refuse to call love, because we don't know each other, but fuck if I'm not ready to jump in front of a train for this man.

"Do you want to suck my cock, Brat?" Sir asks after a few peaceful-painful moments of massaging my burning cheeks.

"Yes, please, Sir," I reply, too eager, but I've been dreaming about this since the first time I saw his majesty.

"Then suck my cock, Brat," he says, his hand closing firmly over my forearm. He helps me get up, then puts me on the ground between his legs and leans back. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

I lean forward and fumble with the button of his pants and then he's helping, as eager to be sucked and I am to do it. Finally we break into his pants and fuck if he doesn't smell like the best sex ever, his smell hits me the second I pull his fly open and fish his hard cock from his silky boxers. I wonder for a second what it would feel like to lick him over the silky fabric, but the thought disappears as my lips close over his head.

He tastes better than I'd imagined, and I'm immediately hooked. I lap up his precum, then wrap my tongue around his head, tracing the ridges of his frenulum. I lick his slit again and am rewarded with another taste of his pleasure, then I sink down on his rod, wrapping my fist around the base of him.

He's bigger than I've taken before, or at least in a while, and while I do know how to deepthroat, I've never really liked it. Jace used to like facefucking me, and it used to make me feel used, but now I wanted to do it. I couldn't explain the difference, but if Sir facefucked me, I think I'd love every second of it.

Sir's fingers thread through my curls, his fingers massaging my scalp as I suck him down as far as I can comfortably go. I'm out of practice, I don't think I could deepthroat him right now even though I wanted to. I didn't want to gag on his cock and turn him off.

I slowly dragged my lips up his cock, sucking hard the whole way until just his head remained between my lips again. I lick his slit then bit down gently. He shivers, his fingers flexing in my hair. "Brat," he says, sounding strained.

I pull back and look up at him, catching my breath since I've never been super good at breathing through my nose when I'm blowing someone. "Is that good, Sir?" I whisper, then lick the next bead of crystal clear precum from his tip.

"Very," he says, his fingers closing around my curls. He pulls me back down onto his shaft and I'm suddenly rock hard again. "I'm pretty close, if you're not careful I'll cum down your throat," he warns.

I want that, I want it so much that I'm out of control, bobbing on his cock eagerly. I look up and he's watching me, enjoying it. We lock eyes and the moment is supercharged.

"You're a little cockslut, aren't you Brat?" I whine and he laughs. "I bet you've been dreaming about sucking my cock ever since that first night, haven't you?"

"Yes," I pull off just long enough to say. I plunge back down on Sir's rod but he catches me by my hair.

"Tell me that you're my little cockslut," he whispers, his eyes boring into my soul.

"I'm your little cockslut," I whisper, and fuck if I'm not so close to coming that I need to hold my breath for a moment. I've never done dirty talk, not like this, and I think if anyone else had ever called me a cockslut I'd have bit their dick off, but when Sir says it I'm proud. "I have, Sir."

"Have what, Brat?" he asks, his hands holding my head in place so I can't look away.

"Dreamed about sucking your perfect cock since I met you," I admit, ashamed to a level I didn't know was possible. "I want your cum, Sir. I want it so much." He'd hit a switch inside me, and now that it was on I couldn't turn it off.

"Fuck, Brat," he moaned, pulling me back onto his shaft. "I'm gonna cum down your throat cause you're my perfect little cockslut."

I moan, nothing but need, and I can't say anything with a mouth full of cock, but I don't need to. I suck and bob and nip his masterpiece and his hips start bouncing, just a little at first, but the more I work him the more he's losing it and he's thrusting, not facefucking, just gentle thrusting, and it's hot as fuck.

His fingers tense and he makes the cutest little moaning sound and then he's coming in my mouth. It's the perfect balance of bitter and pungent, my whole mouth fills with his creamy load. I swallow it quickly, I want more, I don't want to waste a drop of it. It's better than I imagined and I'm so close to coming that I feel my balls pulling up, and if he were to even brush my dick with his foot I'd be losing it all over the place.

Sir's cock pulses a few more times, gifting me with a little more of his creamy load, then his orgasm fades and he leans back on his elbows. His fingers relax, and only then do I realize he'd been gripping my hair hard enough that my scalp stings. After a moment he tucks himself back into his pants and sits up.

"Get on the bed, Brat. On your back."

I do, then hiss as my ass hits his comforter, somehow I'd already forgotten about my stingy cheeks. He chuckles, then looks at my body, his gaze leaving a trail of static wherever it lands. "You're such a good boy, Brat," he praises, then his warm fist closes around my cock and my back arches as he squeezes firmly. "You gonna cum?"

"Yes, Sir," I grunt, trying to thrust in his hand, I'm nothing but need. I hear whining, realize it's me that's making those sounds, and then I'm coming in Sir's hand. He stops moving and I whine again, thrusting into his fist, and I want to feel like this every time I'm with him. Like he owns me and... I don't know I can't explain it, other than my orgasm belongs to him, and that I feel this good is because of him and not because of me.

It makes the wait so worth it. Every moment of frustration this week has culminated in this spectacular moment, and even though I'm thrusting my hips up and basically humping Sir's hand, it's one of the best orgasms I've ever had. Somehow it makes me feel complete, like, I don't know. I can't explain it, other than it wasn't something I had any control over, and it was something bigger than just jerking off myself.

Eventually I'm spent and I slump to the bed. Sir's fist is still squeezing down on me, but it's more relaxed now and he's stroking me in slow, soothing movements. I'm a melty puddle of a man on his comforter, complete and completely at his mercy. It's a freeing moment and I feel whole.

"Shit, Cody," Lee says. "So much cum."

I crack my eyes open to find a load much larger than I usually shoot pooling on my lower belly and spilling over Lee's fist. I feel instant remorse that I got it on his hand and go to sit up but he pushes me down, then releases my spent member and licks my cum from his fingers.

Even as a melty puddle my little man is interested in another go, but isn't quite recharged yet, but I'm still horny. Lee locks eyes with me, then leans down and licks up my pearly puddle, moaning in pleasure as he swallows.

"You taste good," he praises. "Nice and dirty."

I flush, but I can't look away as he cleans my stomach, then sucks my dick into mouth. He licks and sucks me clean, then releases me, and I wish I was able to be hard again because I want more of his mouth on me right now.

"Thank you, Lee," I whisper once he leans back again. I lay my head back and close my eyes, still floating on this horny cloud of pleasure that Lee has introduced me to. He lays down and for a few minutes we just lay next to each other. His fingers thread into mine and I'm so freaking happy I can't even.

My stomach takes the time to remind me that it exists by gurgling loudly. "Sorry. But, um, if the offer for food still stands, apparently I've worked up a bit of an appetite."

Lee chuckles. "I'll see what I can scrounge up."