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-- John--
Considering how long John had been visiting the 141, he should have known there was a basement. Goosebumps rose on his arms as the door closed behind him, cutting off the noise from the bustling club upstairs. It was cooler down here, not damp but not cozy either. It felt like a dungeon and so unlike the warm playrooms on the first level above the main bar.
It was dark, too. Though John supposed that was part of the allure. It was meant to feel like this, to build anticipation in setting alone like a mid-quality porno. A single light shone from the middle of the room, illuminating a metal bench with a leather cover. He swallowed, knowing in a few minutes, he’d be on top of it, stretched out and helpless.
“Colour for me, Johnny.”
He almost jumped at the sound of Simon’s voice. The man materializing from the shadows behind him.
“Green,” John said with as much confidence as he could muster. They’d talked in depth about trying something more intense like this. He trusted Simon with his body and his heart. If there was anyone he’d trust for something like this, it was him. “I’m ready, sir.”
Simon stepped closer, pressing his warm, solid chest against John’s back. The man’s hands were huge and warm on his hips in stark contrast with the cold room. He kissed John’s cheek and down his neck to the strip of leather around it; the half mask covering the top half of his face was cold as it brushed against John’s skin. The mask, like John’s collar, was Simon’s request. They were tools to help them differentiate between an intense scene and daily life. When Simon took it off, the scene was over.
“Good boy,” he praised, breath warm against John’s ear. “So well behaved for me, today, aren’t you?”
“Aye, sir,” John nodded, his face warmed. Simon’s hands caressed his hips, teasing at his waistband and the strip of skin between his shirt and jeans when the top rode up. “Want to be good for ye.”
Simon pressed his hips to John’s ass, letting him feel his growing erection. “Already getting me hard, Johnny.” He nipped at the sensitive skin behind John’s ear, making him gasp. “Little bit of a tease, aren’t you?” John ground his hips back and didn’t reply as he tilted his head away, giving Simon space to lavish his neck with attention and leave more little love bites behind.
Slowly, Simon began undressing him. He pulled away long enough to tug the t-shirt off before plastering them together again and then walking John closer to the bench.
“Boots and brace off, sergeant,” he ordered and John did so without question. The concrete floor was unforgiving against his bare feet when John removed his socks as well. He sat to unfasten the brace and gave it to Simon when the man offered him an open hand. They’d played long enough now that Simon knew when to put the brace back on during play. A few positions they’d found required a bit of additional support. Not today’s apparently.
“Up,” Simon said, and John stood to wait for his next move. He kept more of his weight in his good leg, compensating for the old injury. Simon was so much taller already, and without his boots, John felt even smaller in his presence. It only added to the excitement as he had to look up to meet Simon’s eyes. The man was smiling at him, his balaclava still pushed high over his nose, and he reached out to run his fingers across John’s bare collar bones before raising them higher to grasp John’s chin. “Did you miss any meals this week, love?”
“A few.” Simon’s gaze sharpened, and John swallowed. Part of their dynamic included rules, most of which revolved around self-care once Simon realized how poorly John seemed to manage himself without the military’s structure. “Three.”
“Why?” he asked without letting go of John’s chin.
“Distracted,” John answered, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Not used to workin’ yet.” Simon hummed, waiting for more. “Ate when I remembered. Had dinner waiting fer Gaz when he got home earlier.”
“And did you finish your list?”
John blinked, trying to recall if he’d finished all of the tasks Simon assigned earlier in the week. “I think so, sir?”
“Think or know?” he asked, not harshly, but John’s stomach twisted at the idea of disappointing him. He wanted to be good. “Did you remember to iron your shirts?”
Shit. He didn’t.
Simon must’ve seen the flash of panic because he tutted and released John’s chin.
“I did the washin’!” John insisted. He remembered hanging his dress shirts in the closet for work, but he hadn’t pressed them. He had at least one ready for Monday at least, he had time to finish the others, but Simon was right. “But I didn’t finish the job,” he continued. “I meant ta, I just forgot.”
“Mhm,” Simon hummed and traced a line down his chest to his belt’s closure. He used both hands to slowly unfasten the buckle and pull it from the belt loops. “You’ll take ten,” he said, folding the belt in half and testing the weight of its strike against his own palm. “Finish stripping and lean over the bench for me, pet.”
John’s mouth had gone dry. He did as told, and shivered at the cold, smooth leather against his belly. There was no hiding his interest. His cock hung heavily between his legs as he got into position and only got hard when Simon caressed the curve of his ass.
“You’ll count them,” Simon said, leaving his hand in the middle of John’s lower back. “And thank me for it.”
“Aye, sir.” John took a few deep breaths. It would hurt, yes, but then Simon would make him feel good. It was more fun than any punishment had the right to be. “One!” he called as the first strike came down. It stung, but it was more noise than pain and so at odds with the caress Simon bestowed before the second. “Two.”
“Let me hear you,” Simon ordered before giving him the third and fourth in quick succession. “That’s it, Johnny. No one else can hear you down here.”
“More please, sir,” he moaned. Simon hit him again. “Five!” He could feel himself dripping now, a bead of precum having fallen from his tip and onto the floor between his feet. “Six.”
He’d remember this every time he tried to sit down for the next day, maybe a little longer depending on what else they got up to this evening. He ground back into Simon’s touch when it lingered for too long between strikes.
“So eager for me,” Simon teased before delivering seven and eight, one to each cheek. His ass would be pink now at least, and his voice cracked on the number nine. “Tell me what you did wrong.”
“Ngh.” John swallowed, trying to get his breath back before answering. “Didn’t take care of myself well enough.”
“That’s partially right,” Simon agreed before giving him the last strike. It wasn’t any harder than the others, but it still brought dampness to his eyes. Not tears, not yet.
“Ten! Thank you, sir.”
Simon rolled him over and loomed close, covering John with his body and kissing him deeply, a reward for taking the punishment well. “And why should you take better care of yourself?”
He blinked. Simon hadn’t asked him that question before. “Because-” he didn’t know the answer. “Uh- because-” he panted.
“Because you’re mine, dove,” Simon reminded him before kissing him again and stealing his breath away when he took his cock in hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I take care of what’s mine, and so should you.”
“Aye,” John agreed, hissing as Simon began to stroke him off with a dry hand. “Aye, sir.”
“So hard for me already,” he remarked before pulling away and stepping back to look John over. John knew the blush from his cheeks had travelled down his throat and coloured his chest. His nipples were hard in the cold room. “Would you like to continue?”
“Please, sir,” John agreed. They’d talked about a lot more than just the impact play. It was barely a warm up for what Simon planned. “I want what we talked about.”
Simon’s eyebrow rose beneath the mask, disappearing behind the material, and his smile widened to a grin. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel full?”
“Please,” John nodded and reached for Simon, grasping at his black shirt and tugging him in closer for another kiss. Simon allowed it for a moment, long enough that John almost felt dizzy when they parted for breath. “Want you.”
“You’ll have me,” he agreed before stepping away and walking to the other side of the room where a duffle bag sat on a chair. John rose on his elbow to watch him. Simon didn’t often wear leather, but his pants were thick and black, studded along the sides, like they could be torn away, and perhaps, they could be.
Now that John’s eyesight had adjusted to the low light, he could take in the rest of the space. There was a comfortable-looking daybed for aftercare in one corner and a wall full of toys on the other side. Simon didn’t go for any of those, though. He only brought his duffle closer. Anything they used would have been brought from home. Simon had plans, and they started with a few lengths of blue rope.
“Lie back and put your feet on the bench for me, Johnny,” Simon prompted and rubbed John’s knee when he did as asked. “Feeling alright?”
He nodded. “Solid, sir.”
“Mhm, good boy.”
It didn’t take long for Simon to start his ties for this evening. They’d continued to play with ropes more often, and John had to admit he’d fallen back in love with bondage under Simon’s careful hands. He came to appreciate the gentle burn in his muscles and the marks that Simon soothed with ointment after a session. Initially, they’d only done harnesses and partial binds, leaving John’s hands free or loose so he could easily escape on his own, but as they practiced more often, John’s comfort level grew and now, Simon could completely immobilize him if the mood struck.
Tonight would be a heavier tie.
Simon wound a rope around each of John’s legs, forcing them to remain bent in half with his calves nearly touching his hamstrings, and then he rolled him onto his stomach to begin tying his wrists to the leg tie on either side of his waist. His knees were spread apart, giving Simon ample access to his ass and leaving him vulnerable.
The position ensured his weight was distributed fairly well but it stressed John’s shoulders as they bore the weight of his suspended legs when Simon dragged him closer to the edge of the bench so his cock hung in the open air rather than being squashed between it and his stomach. His chin reached the far side, and John let his head fall forward as Simon stroked his cock a few times to bring his erection back to peak.
“Beautiful,” Simon murmured as he stood back to admire his handiwork. He rubbed Johnny’s flank before reaching into the bag again and pulling out a water bottle which he set beside John’s hip and a little clicker which he put into Johnny’s fist. “Look so sweet like this. Aching for me, aren’t you, love?”
“Aye, sir,” he agreed as he adjusted himself, trying to find the most comfortable position possible. John twitched when he felt Simon’s hand return, warm and dry as he caressed the thin skin between his sack and hole. “Green,” he said, unprompted.
“Good boy,” Simon praised before removing his hands and then John heard an unfamiliar snapping sound before a thump. When Simon’s leg brushed against his thigh this time, it was skin to skin. His legs were bare.
“What? No show?” he groused, and Simon swatted his ass right where he’d spanked him earlier, making John yelp more in surprise than pain. “Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t start being naughty now, Johnny,” he teased before leaning over John’s back and pulling his head up by his hair. John’s back arched, and he groaned at the sensation. “Can make this less fun for you. Behave.”
“Aye, LT.” He swallowed thickly, despite knowing it was an empty threat. The release of pressure was almost worse as Simon let his head drop back down, slowly so he didn’t hit his chin on the bench’s edge. “I’ll be good fer ye,” he promised, and Simon hummed in acknowledgement before asking him to test the clicker. It made a satisfying noise, and offered John another layer of safety if he got too overwhelmed to speak.
He shivered when Simon snapped on one black medical glove, and goosebumps rose along his spine as his gloved fingers traced their way down to his ass before disappearing momentarily.
Soon, fingers returned between his legs, and Simon wasn’t shy with the lube as he began to open him up. The water bottle crinkled as he squirted plenty of cold lubricant onto his hand and got to work with one finger and then two almost immediately. They fucked often enough now that it wasn’t a struggle in the initial stages. John knew how to relax and let himself enjoy the subtle stretch and gentle burn as Simon worked him up to taking his cock. It wasn’t an easy feat, and John wasn’t surprised when Simon’s third finger pressed against his rim.
“That’s it, let me in,” Simon cooed.
Despite the room’s chill, John could feel the sweat building along his back, and he subtly moved into Simon’s hand as much as his bound position allowed. It felt good and when Simon’s hand left him, he almost cried out for the loss.
“Easy, Johnny,” Simon said as he rounded the pallets and knelt to kiss him, holding his face with his clean hand. “You still want more?” he asked, and Johnny nodded immediately. “Was hoping you’d agree. Let me show you what I’m thinking.”
He let go of Johnny’s face and rummaged through the duffle bag again, this time coming out with a large set of anal beads. He hadn’t seen those before, and Simon’s laugh at his expense was likely warranted. John knew his eyes had grown huge at seeing the new toy.
“You won’t take them all today,” he promised. There were ten beads, each a bit larger than the last. None as big as Simon’s fist, but it was close. “But we’ll see how close we can get, aye? Colour for me.”
John wanted to say green, he wanted to try it, but the word stuck behind his teeth, so he took a breath and chose “Yellow,” instead.
Simon knelt down more solidly, and he pulled the mask up off his face to let John see him fully. “Tell me,” he said. “Need to stop?”
“Dinnae want to stop,” John shook his head and stared at the floor beside Simon’s hip. “Just- dinnae want to disappoint ye.”
“Hey,” Simon said, gaining John’s attention back with a gentle touch and warm hand on his cheek. He kissed John thoroughly, leaving no corner of his mouth untouched. “You could never disappoint me, love. Can switch gears or stop.”
“I want it, you,” John insisted, leaning into Simon’s hand. “Will it hurt?”
“I won’t lie, it’ll be a stretch,” Simon explained with a hint of humour, and John huffed a little laugh. “But if we go slow, it won’t hurt. And you’ll tell me if it does. Promise me that, Johnny?”
He nodded as much as the position allowed, and Simon kissed him once more before leaning away and replacing the mask. He waited for John’s go, before circling around behind him again to tease the first bead against his open hole. “Green, sir. I want to try it.”
“Patience,” Simon said as he pressed two fingers back into him with more lube before taking them out and replacing them with the first bead. “You’ll take more.”
It was no different from a plug really. The first bead slipped inside him, cold and heavy, making John gasp and his hole flutter around the intrusion. Simon tugged at it and the sensation was so strange and new. His cock twitched back to full hardness again as Simon pressed the second bead against him and then into his ass.
“Fuck,” he swore as the pair pressed against his prostate. If this was only two, what the hell would they all feel like inside of him?
“Breathe out for me,” Simon prompted and on his exhale, Simon tugged the beads free with a wet, slick noise. “That’s a good boy, Johnny. Such a greedy little hole,” he half-praised and half-teased before pressing two fingers back inside him. The third nudged its way in soon after.
They went on like that for what felt like ages, fingers first and then back to the beads. He’d taken three beads twice more now, and the sensation of them filling his body made him cry out as Simon grasped the base of his cock, stopping him from orgasming.
“Not yet.”
Three fingers stretched to four. He felt open and fucked out, sticky with drying lube as Simon kept up the game, pushing four beads inside him this time.
“Colour.”
“Green!” John whined as Simon drew the beads out, only to force them immediately back inside of him. “Wannae come, sir, please!”
Simon laughed and stopped his orgasm short again, giving him a little break and rubbing his hip with his dry hand. “You’ll come once I have, Johnny. And only once I’ve had my fill.”
His whine went ignored as Simon gave him his fingers again. Four of them, up to the widest part of his hand. His thumb teased John’s rim, testing the stretch to see if he could fit it inside of him. John’s breaths came in little pants now, and he shivered despite how warm his body was. It all felt so overwhelming. Simon’s thumb eased off, giving him space before attempting again, twisting his hand horizontally to give himself more room.
“Ah!” John cried out at the stretch, and Simon backed off, letting him breathe through it.
“You’re so good, Johnny,” Simon praised. He didn’t try for his thumb again, but he did press his four fingers in deeper until the crook of his thumb stopped his hand from going further. “I’m proud of you,” he cooed. “Just a tiny bit more.”
John twitched and released a long moan as Simon teased his prostate, massaging it until John could feel the precum dripping from his cock.
“You’re eager today, aren’t you?” He turned his hand once more before pouring more lube into his palm, making John’s shivering return. “But let’s not overdo it yet. You still have more of these to take.”
It was a loss and a relief when he pulled his fingers free, and his hole gaped around nothing for only a moment before Simon pressed the beads back inside, one after another until John groaned at the feeling of fullness. Five this time. He made it halfway, and somehow, he was supposed to fit all of them.
“So good for me, love,” Simon praised as he circled around in front of John and pulled his face up for a kiss. Johnny was desperate for the affection by now, aching for any scrap of Simon he’d allow. Their tongues twisted together until Simon pulled away to fetch the bead’s string, leaning over his back and tangling the line in John’s toes.
“Halfway, sweetheart. We’ll get there,” he promised as he rose to his full height and shoved his waistband down to release his extremely hard cock. “Come get your reward, Johnny. Be a good boy for me.”
Simon’s cock slapped his cheek, and Johnny opened his mouth for it eagerly. He loved sucking Simon off more than he enjoyed being on the receiving end of the act. Only, when he moved, the beads shifted inside him, made worse by the predicament of having the string between his toes. Every time he twitched his foot, the beads slid against his prostate.
Simon was unrepentant, not allowing him to complain as he pushed into John’s mouth and after a few shallow thrusts, into his throat. John’s own cock throbbed as it felt like he was getting fucked from both ends, the beads were too large to come out without a strong tug. They jostled as Simon continued to fuck his face in easy, long thrusts. Praise fell on deaf ears as all John could manage to do was feel. It was overwhelming in the best of ways.
The clicker remained unused in his palm, and when Simon came, it was straight down his throat, deep enough that John wouldn’t have been able to taste him had Simon not started pulling out before he finished coming to leave a mess on John’s chin.
“Needed that,” he admitted before kneeling to lick himself from John’s mouth, uncaring of the sloppy mess as he pillaged John’s mouth, leaving him just as breathless. John’s breath hitched and his cock pulsed on the edge of an orgasm but unable to crest he whined for more and struggled minutely against his bonds. “What’s that? You need more, pup?”
“Please, sir,” John agreed with a nod, squirming in place. “So close.”
Simon’s smile turned feral. “You were close weren’t you? Want to try one more time?” John swallowed, his cheeks might’ve already been flushed but they felt warmer as he nodded. “Tell me, Johnny. Use your words.”
John’s throat clicked. “Need more, sir. Want to take more of you.”
Simon stood, his spent cock twitching in John’s face as Simon fisted his hair and pulled his head up to look. The angle was uncomfortable, but bearable. “You can do better than that.”
He groaned into Simon’s hold and nuzzled against Simon’s still half-hard cock with his nose as he steeled himself to admit what he wanted. “Wannae take your fist, sir. Please. I want it inside me.”
“Good boy,” Simon praised, releasing him before circling around behind him again. “Breathe out,” he said, and that was John’s only warning before Simon tugged the beads free, one after the other, forcing John’s orgasm out of him whether he was ready for it or not. The room flashed white before John’s eyes slammed shut, and he lost himself in the floating sensation scenes like this brought him.
His hole gaped around nothing, and the cold remnants of lube made him shiver, but Simon made every moment of discomfort worth it when he started filling him again. Three fingers became four, and four became a cone before John cried out as Simon’s thumb joined the other fingers. He fucked him firmly even as John tried to get over his first orgasm, his cock never given the chance to soften.
Simon bullied his way into John, the thickest part of his hand teasing twice, three times before suddenly, it’d gone deeper.
“Fuck, look at you.”
John had never felt higher. His skin prickled on the back of his neck as Simon rocked his hand inside of him, every motion igniting sparks behind his eyes. It burned where Simon’s other hand grasped his hip to keep him steady. The second orgasm, or maybe just a continuation of the first, tore through him, and thank fuck the room was insulated, otherwise, the entire bar would have heard him scream.
The come down was sweet, all praises and gentle touches. “So fucking good for me, Johnny.”
Simon took his time easing his hand from John’s body, soothing the little cry John made at the last stretch with gentle kisses along his shoulders. By the time John could see straight again, Simon had removed his mask. Their scene was over and now, all that was left was care.
John couldn’t stop his smile as Simon began untying him. Moments like these were just as good as the wind up. Simon took fastidious care of him, massaging his arms and shoulders as they came loose first, followed by his hips and thighs when they burned from being held just on the edge of too long. His skin prickled with a touch of embarrassment as Simon wiped away the worst of the lube. He’d never had a partner do that for him.
His eyes burned with unshed tears, and his stomach swooped as Simon scooped him up in his arms for the short trip from the bench to the lounge, where Simon sat with John in his lap, pressed skin to skin once Simon tugged his shirt off. The glove was gone, and both his hands were clean as they wiped the first tears from his cheek. “Easy, love, I’ve got you,” Simon promised.
His heart felt so full. It was so much. His chest heaved with a sob.
“Breathe for me, darling.” Simon soothed, petting his hair and holding him close as he worked through the wave of emotions flooding his senses. He knew it would be intense, Simon told him it would be, but John hadn’t known how intense. “That’s it.”
It should have felt silly, needing to be coaching through something as easy as breathing, but Simon never made him feel lesser for it. He didn’t speed John through aftercare or god forbid leave him alone to manage himself. When the fire in his veins eased, and his sweat grew cold, Simon covered them with a blanket. Once John’s breaths came slow and even, he got half a bottle of water into him and then popped a brick of dark chocolate onto his tongue to melt.
All of Simon’s touches were for comfort more than pleasure now, though John still felt his skin buzzing with each caress even as the fog started to lift. He rolled his head back, the weight of his collar still heavy on his throat as he looked up into Simon’s eyes.
The adoration made his throat dry.
“Kiss me?” he rasped, and Simon held his face as he slotted their lips together. Moments like these made his heart swell, and John knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
--