Work Text:
°˖✧~*♡*~✧˖°
When Caleb opened the door to his Skyhaven home and let in a breath of wintry night air, you used the chill to temper the steel of your spine.
Normally, you’d be all over him after he returned from a long day of work. You’d be hurtling towards him, pulled forward like he was the source of all gravity, a smile on your face and a warm welcome blooming from your tongue in the form of words and kisses.
Tonight, you offered no such greeting.
“Hey, pipsqueak,” Caleb said, tone weary. The childhood nickname that fell from his lips was a stark contrast to the sharp cut of his colonel’s uniform. It was still jarring hearing your sweet Caleb underneath all those military badges, aiguillettes, gun holsters, and regalia. It felt like two different personalities, two different people entirely.
But something inside you wasn’t in the mood for your sweet Caleb.
No, you were a bit angry, and you wanted to see his anger, too.
You glanced over at him from where you sat on the couch, giving him a brief once-over to make sure he wasn’t injured. His shoulders were slumped, the circles under his eyes darker than the shadows that haunted the corners of the room, but he otherwise looked fine. He could handle your attitude.
“Hi,” you responded, clipped and cutting. You turned back to the television, pretending to pay attention to whatever garbage was on screen.
From the corner of your eye, you could sense Caleb tensing, his shoulders straightening. He stayed put in the doorway, like your cold acknowledgment had frozen him to the spot. There was a long moment of silence, like he was waiting for you to realize you’d forgotten your usual routine of welcoming home. But you kept your mouth shut and your eyes trained away from him, no further welcoming words offered.
“‘Hi’,” Caleb eventually said back, parroting you with that clipped tone. He took a few slow steps forward, the click of his boots on the kitchen tile sounding like the safety of a gun being turned off. “It’s nice to see you too.” A hint of frustration was simmering in his words.
You gave him a small grunt in response, which only made him bristle more. He removed his colonel’s hat and set it on the kitchen counter, keeping the jacket on. You could feel his gaze on you, heavy and hot. The fire in his amethyst eyes was blazing. You didn’t need to make eye contact to feel its scald.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, y’know,” he said evenly. You could tell he was making an effort to restrain his frustration. “I missed you.”
A statement that should have coaxed an immediate, instinctual response from you. It always had before. After all, there was no one on this earth that you missed more than Caleb the moment he walked out the front door.
But all you gave him was ten more seconds of silence.
The weight of your missing response was tangible, enough to push Caleb over the edge.
“What’s with the cold shoulder, Y/N?”
There he was.
The intensity of his question was startling, and it took all of your composure to avoid flinching. Caleb was usually incredibly disciplined in shedding his work persona by the time he returned home, but all it had taken was withholding your usual hospitality to have it rearing back. This wasn’t the sweet, endearing, pampering Caleb; this was the commanding Colonel who brooked no room for disobedience. A small part of you felt guilty for drawing out this stern version of him after he’d clearly had an exhausting day at work.
But the larger part was internally grinning, all too pleased to make him share in your displeasure.
“You’re late,” you spat out like the words were rotten.
Click, click, click.
A few more disconcertingly slow steps across the tiles as he crossed from the kitchen to the living room. You refused to meet his gaze, which still lay heavy on your profile.
“Yeah, I am,” Caleb drawled out. “I got caught up with some things with the Fleet.” A small pause. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” A hint of regret, earnest and pleading.
It only lasted a moment.
“But I’m home now, so…”
The sound of his steps turned muffled as he entered the carpeted living room, but each thump reverberated in your bones, setting your nerves alight. He stopped just beside the couch.
“...the least you could do is look at me.”
You pointedly did not do as he said. In the corner of your eye, you saw him cock his head to the side, waiting for acquiescence that did not come.
“Ah. I see how it is.” He said, soft yet threatening, the tone you knew he used with disobedient subordinates seeping out. He crossed his arms as he lifted his chin. “I rushed home as fast as I could, y’know. They wanted me overnight, but I made sure that didn’t happen. Kicked the shit out of some new recruits to make sure what needed to get done got done early. This is the thanks I get?” Another pause for a response that didn’t come. You kept your spine straight, your gaze averted, your lips pressed in a firm line. “What about all those promises of what I was going to come home to, pips?” The nickname wasn’t sweet this time, but condescending. Sickly sweet, like he was starting to pick up on what game you wanted to play tonight. “All that begging for me to take care of you?”
Your cheeks heated at the reminder of all the flirtatious texts you’d sent him throughout the day, thinking it would lure him home sooner. Little innuendos, a few racy pictures… more overt invitations as the day went on, and you grew more desperate for your Caleb to come take care of you.
But they hadn’t succeeded in drawing him home. In fact, he’d been later than he’d ever been before. And maybe that was part of why your ego felt bruised, why you were giving him the cold shoulder now.
Immature, maybe. But you’d waited for him long enough that your need for him had distilled into something more potent, more dangerous. Something only the Colonel could tame.
“You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” you said, mimicking his mocking tone. “You were so late that I already took care of myself.”
The lie came out easily, the perfect bait to rile him up.
If you’d thought that the night air was cold as he came in… it was nothing compared to the glacial fury that took hold of the perimeter just then.
You gasped as the TV remote that you’d been clutching went flying from your hands into Caleb’s grasp, guided by his evol. He shut the screen off before tossing the remote to the floor, stepping in front of where you sat on the couch so that he filled your entire field of vision. He grabbed your chin and forced you to finally meet his gaze, your lips parting from the strength of his grip.
“Is that so?” he asked. A muscle in his jaw twitched with the pulse of his anger as his eyes narrowed. “So desperate you couldn’t wait for me, huh? That’s too bad.” He ran a gloved thumb over your parted lips, dipping in just enough to trace the tip of your tongue and leave a hint of the taste of bitter leather in your mouth. “I don’t put up with teasing, though.”
The last words were whispered—and nothing was more dangerous than being so close to the Colonel that you could hear his featherlight whisper.
In the blink of an eye, you were hoisted from the couch, gravity unbound. The weightlessness lasted just long enough for Caleb to slip into the spot you’d been sitting in. Your startled yelp from the disturbance only made him smirk, and when your gravity returned to normal, the smirk grew wider and crueler from your shocked expression as you landed.
He’d flipped your body around like it was nothing, orchestrating your limbs so that you sat astride one of his thighs, facing him. The toned muscle of his leg was pressed directly against your core. Your hands had raced up to press against his chest in a bid for stability during the commotion; when you tried to pull them away, he gripped your wrists, pinning them there.
“Saying all those dirty things over text, sending me pictures of you biting your lips, your pretty tits…” Caleb shook his head, making a tsk, tsk sound. “Petting yourself over your panties, and cutting off the video just before things got good? You didn’t really think you could just taunt and not deliver, did you, Y/N?”
“Maybe you should’ve come home earlier if you didn’t want to miss out,” you said, desperate to maintain that angry facade but you were betrayed by the way he began to bounce his thigh, forcing you to grind against the pant leg of his uniform. Your words were breathy, the edge of a moan beginning to slip out.
You’d been wet all day thinking about him, and he knew it.
“Yeah, I should’ve,” he cooed insincerely, watching the way your breasts bounced inside your tank top from the movement of his leg. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of myself now, too, huh?” He took both of your wrists in one hand—his fingers so long that they could grip the entire circumference of both of your wrists. He used his freed hand to unbutton his fly, giving you just a hint of a peek of his hardened dick straining to break free from his underwear. “You little brat. Getting me all worked up while I’m on the clock, only to sate yourself before I can get home. At least you’ll be a good girl and give me a show if you won’t join in on the fun, right?”
Goosebumps raced down your spine and over your body from the icy scald of his words. His pupils seemed to dilate as he watched your nipples harden under the fabric of your top.
“And what if I don’t, Colonel?” you challenged, just for the sake of ticking him off a little more. You tightened your legs around his thigh in an attempt to still the motions of his bouncing, but it didn’t work; he was too strong, his muscles too overpowering, and your clenching only made you grind your cunt against his leg harder. You choked down the sound of pleasure that came bubbling up.
Caleb raised one dark eyebrow. “I guess I'll just have to think up a punishment then, hm?”
He grabbed your chin again, turning you to face the kitchen counter.
Where his riding crop lay beside his colonel’s hat.
He leaned in close, the heat of his dry lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “How does, hmmm, let’s say 30 lashings sound? One for each of those naughty texts you distracted me with, only to have all the fun without me. I’ll leave your pretty little ass black and blue.” Caleb huffed out a laugh, velvety cruel. “That will certainly give me something to get off to, at least.”
The other hand pinning your wrists to his chest finally let go, trusting that his words had made you complacent; you were prey that had just spotted the predator, and running would only make him give chase. His fingers trailed up your arm, down the side of your breasts, stomach, hips, before curving around to caress the ass he’d just threatened to bruise. The touch was light and loving, a stark contrast to his previous words.
He was not-so-loving, however, with the gloved hand on your chin as he forced you to turn back to him with a jerking motion. Your parted lips just barely grazed his as his commanding expression filled your vision again; his eyebrows low, his jaw tense.
“You pick, my sweet little brat. What do you choose?” He let go of your chin, his hand snaking down to dip beneath the waistband of his underwear. “You want to give me something to stroke my cock to? Or do I need to take it from you?”
Part of you thought that taking his lashings wouldn’t be so bad—in fact, the thought of you bent over while he whipped the leather against your flesh sounded quite appealing. It might just be the sort of physical sensation that you needed to release the pent-up want you’d been simmering in all day.
But what stopped you from picking that punishment—from remaining obstinate and going against Caleb’s request—was the knowledge that his punishment wouldn’t end with just the lashings. No, you could tell from that knowing, umbral glint in his eyes as he pulled his swollen, hard dick out of his uniform that he knew you were lying about having ‘taken care’ of yourself. Yes, you’d been wet all day, daydreaming of all the ways he could put his body to use with yours, but you hadn’t gotten yourself off to those thoughts. You hadn’t dared to give yourself what you knew he could give you better. You thought you could wait, and maybe that was a mistake; it was why you were still awake at this hour, frustrated and pent-up, angry at his belated arrival home.
If you chose to keep disobeying him, he’d not only give you those lashings, but he’d taunt you all the while. He’d get your already wet cunt soaking to the point of discomfort, and then refuse to give you what you really needed… he would edge you till you were on your knees, begging and crying for him to get you off. His deft fingers knew too much, including how to bring you to the brink of climax only to deny what you needed. He’d done it before.
You just didn’t have the patience for that, and you certainly had too much pride. You wanted to cum—had been waiting hours—and couldn’t stand to wait through his punishments to get there.
It was like he could see the gears turning in your head, his cruel smile turning up in fractions of degrees as you narrowed your eyes at him. He was gripping his dick now, giving slow, lazy glides of his palm against his heavy shaft.
“Fine, Colonel. You can have your show,” you said, performatively defeated. You lifted up the hem of your tank top, pulling it up, up, up, until the bottom halves of your nipples peeked out beneath the fabric, and then halted your movements. “What kind of show do you want, though?” you asked, voice turning lilting and girlish as your fingertips abandoned your hem to trace the bottom slope of your tits. You pouted out your lips, brows sinking into a look of rejection. “You didn’t respond to my pictures all day… I was starting to think you didn’t want to see me.”
Caleb’s eyes were laser-focused on how you teased yourself, a small groan of need escaping when you dipped your fingertips beneath the hem to pinch your half-exposed nipples. He licked his lips, gaze flickering up to yours for half a moment as he collected his words.
“Quite the opposite.” His voice had turned hoarse. “Taking the time to respond would’ve been that much more time that I was delayed in coming home, and your pictures were making it hard enough to get my work done as it was.” The hand not stroking his cock returned to caressing your ass, which quickly turned into a hard pinch, eliciting a pathetic yelp from you. “I should give you a few lashes just for distracting me, really.”
“Hng, Caleb, that hurts—”
His head cocked to the side, watching as you shifted uncomfortably from his bruising pinch, making your nipples slip that much further out from underneath the hem of the bunched-up tank top. His dick twitched at that, a bead of precum leaking from the tip. Your face was twisted in a bit of pain, but you hadn’t used your safe word. He didn’t let go for another few moments, ensuring you would feel that ache later.
He huffed out another laugh. “Good thing I’m feeling forgiving. Show your Colonel how you like to play with yourself, and I’ll pardon your sentence for being such a distraction.” That self-satisfied smile returned to his lips as he finally let go of your ass. “And since you already got off earlier without me, you can just use my thigh as your toy instead. How does that sound? That should be easier than taking my cock after a long day of fucking yourself, yeah, baby?” He shook the thick length as he mentioned it, as if to remind you just how big it was.
Your heart sank, just a little. He was calling your bluff. He could see how bad you wanted him—could tell that’s where your frustration was coming from—and he wasn’t going to let you get away with the lie.
He was literally dangling his cock just out of reach.
You swallowed hard. You’d only meant to taunt him, to make him feel guilty for having left you waiting all this time. But now he was going to turn that lie against you.
The pout didn’t leave your face as you slipped the tank top off the rest of the way and tossed it aside. “Just your thigh, Colonel? Are you sure you don’t want me to get on your cock instead—”
He shook his head as he let out a breathy chuckle. “Of course not, my little brat. I wouldn’t want to wear your pretty pussy out. You’ve had a long enough day already. Let me worry about my cock.”
The whine you wanted to let out then would have been nothing short of pathetic, so you swallowed it down. You focused on grinding against his thigh, making a performance out of the rocking of your hips. Your hands travelled back up to your tits, gripping them hard and pushing them together to accentuate their fullness.
“That’s a good girl,” he hummed in approval as he fucked his own fist. “I’m sure you’re just sooo exhausted,” he said, mockingly sweet, “but I knew you’d behave anyway. You’d do anything to please your Colonel, right, baby?”
“Of course, sir,” you said, intending to mock him back, but the ‘sir’ was too breathy and needy to have the effect you intended. All too quickly, the brat in you was shrinking down, alchemizing into something more docile, more submissive.
Your pajama shorts were riding up and sinking into the crease of your thighs, highlighting the shape of your hips. Caleb was having a hard time finding a place to let his gaze settle as the pace on his cock increased. They kept flickering between your hands grasping at your tits, your hips as they swivelled, and your increasingly wet core that dragged along his thigh. Every little movement you made had your flesh bouncing in all the right ways, making his lips part and mouth water.
The thin fabric of your bottoms did little to contain the increasing dampness of your pussy. It was starting to seep through to the white fabric of his uniform, leaving little strokes of damp, darkened fabric.
You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but of course he did—you could tell by the way his arrogant smirk returned.
“I see you never got yourself cleaned up after playing with yourself earlier,” he pointed out, amusement clear in his tone. “You dirty thing. Always leaving all the messes for me to clean up, huh? Here, I’ll help you.”
Caleb once again used his evol to hoist you up, high enough that your hips were just above his face. He yanked your pajama shorts down, ravenous and feral, an animal tearing at its meal. The string of slick connecting your puffy pussy to the crotch of the shorts was embarrassingly long as he pulled them away. He stuck out his tongue and licked up the fluid before it fell on his uniform, humming like it was the sweetest dessert he’d ever had. The sight was so filthy that you couldn’t hold back your whimpering whine this time. He tossed the shorts off to the side, before angling his mouth up to lick up the rest of the fluid from your center—
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, finally! He’s finally going to touch me, finally going to—
He gave you several long, hot, gliding swipes of his tongue across your pussy lips to gather up the remaining slick. You gasped, whimpered, cried out—the shock of his heated, soft tongue and firm, claiming lips on your most sensitive spot activated every nerve ending up and down your body.
But after the third glide of his tongue—which he allowed to linger at the apex of your clit for one taunting second—he pulled away and set you back down on his thigh, gravity back to normal.
“There,” he said, eyes glinting with pleasure as he licked his lips clean of your wetness. “All cleaned up.”
That was it? Your jaw was agape. You wanted to scream. He knew exactly what he was doing. You slammed your mouth shut, your teeth clicking with the force.
Caleb raised a brow at you. “Do I get a thanks for that favor? Or are you still feeling bratty?” His still-gloved hand tiptoed up the bare skin of your thigh towards your ass again, and you could feel the echo of his bruising pinch from earlier. “Come on, Y/N, I thought you were starting to behave for me—”
“Yes, Colonel, thank you, Colonel!” you rushed out to avoid the pinch. “I’m sorry for making a mess.”
“Aww, it’s okay, baby. No need to apologize.” He was beaming, but his eyes narrowed into a suspicious, glaring look. “I only wish you’d waited for me to get home, though, I could’ve spent more time licking that pretty pussy… I wouldn’t want you to get overstimulated.”
There it was again. Those taunting words. He was giving you a chance to back down, to admit that you were not sated and needed him now more than ever. You almost broke down, almost admitted to your deceit, but the arrogant look on his face made you hold strong.
You’d taken the game this far already. Maybe you could be the one to make him break and beg.
“Oh, you’re so thoughtful, Gege,” you singsonged, knowing that pet name was his weakness. It succeeded in making his hips buck, his dick sliding up into his grip as his Adam’s apple bobbed on a hard swallow. “You’re right, I’m sooo sensitive from playing with myself earlier. It’s probably best that you don’t touch me down there too much right now. You might make me scream or cry or something, you know? Wouldn’t want to wake up the neighbors.”
His eyes glazed over a little, clearly picturing all the sounds you made when pushed into overstimulation. You’d said it like it was a bad thing, but you knew he really loved how noisy you got. All the times you’d fucked in the past, he only got rougher when you started making noise, like he wanted to pound every last sound out of you. Like he wanted the whole world to know what he did to you each time he put his dick inside you.
Let him fantasize about it. Just maybe, it would help you win this game of teasing.
You resumed grinding on his thigh, this time with your cunt bare to his leg—the fabric of his pants was providing extra friction, sending frissons of pleasure sparking through you. But not enough.
Never enough. Not compared to his tongue, not compared to him.
Caleb’s fist was clenching around his cock harder now, and he continued to bounce his leg up and down beneath you. He was unblinking at the sight of how it made the softer parts of your body jiggle. Precum was leaking from his slit more and more, shimmering against his swollen, pink-and-purple cockhead, dripping down his tip as it flowed over. Fuck, you wanted it in you so bad. You tried to feign indifference to it, but it was too difficult to pull your gaze away from the beautiful sight.
“Tell me what you were thinking about while you got yourself off today, baby,” Caleb breathed out, running his thumb through his slit and using the precum to glide his thumb under the ridge of his cockhead smoothly.
Your pussy clenched as all the fantasies you’d come up with earlier flashed through your mind. “Didn’t I text you already?”
“You did, but I wanna hear it directly from you,” he said, hips twitching as his stroking continued, the bouncing of his leg syncing with the rhythm of his hand. “Tell me again.”
“Mm…” You mentally ran through all the different scenarios, your core clenching again and leaking out more fluid. Fuck. That was all it was going to take for your ruse to be up—he’d see how soaked you were making his pants even after his ‘clean-up’. “I thought about you bending me over, and holding my arms behind my back while you fucked me. I love when you take control.”
You chose to tell him that fantasy in particular because you thought it was the kind of temptation he needed to snap and take you now, without you admitting to your lie. But he didn’t let go of his cock to pin you down—just kept stroking his shaft, bouncing you up and down, his eyes fluttering shut as he pictured the scene you’d described. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Next time? Like ‘next time’ couldn’t be right now? You chewed on the inside of your lips, frustration simmering. His eyes opened back up, half-mast, and you swore he winked at you, so fast that you wondered if you’d imagined it.
This was just as much a game to him as it was to you.
“What else?” he prompted, using the hand that wasn’t gripping his dick to trace your hip. His fingers trailed there, caressing your tummy next, and then lower, making you gasp until he stopped just short of your clit. “Tell me more.”
You tried to correct the course of your grinding hips as you danced along his thigh so that his finger would brush against that throbbing spot on ‘accident’, but just as quickly as you moved your hips, he moved his hand, shifting so that he only softly petted your lower tummy.
“I thought about you putting my legs over my head,” you choked out. “Folding me up and fucking me so deep I could feel you in my belly. Cumming in me so much I couldn’t move without making a mess.” You grinded harder against his leg, chasing the high that you knew wouldn’t come without his aid.
“Fuck, baby. I wish you’d waited for me. I could’ve given you everything you wanted.” His breaths were shortening, hitching on the hints of his incoming climax. “I’m so close. Keep talking, sweetheart, tell me how else you would’ve had me if you hadn’t gotten so greedy—”
No, no, no! The whimper that left your lips was desperate, pathetic, pulling another chuckle from Caleb’s throat. “Y-you’re going to cum so soon?” you began, stuttering. “I’ve barely even started giving you a show, Caleb—”
You wanted the comment to be biting, mocking, to make fun of him for cumming too fast, but the truth was that you were just desperate for him not to cum yet, not when you hadn’t even gotten started with him.
In a fraction of a second, Caleb had his fist wrapped around the locks of your hair, using the grip to pull your head towards him with domineering force. “What is it, baby?” His breath, hot and sweet with a tint of your slick, fanned across your lips. “You change your mind? Did ya decide you want in on the fun now?” He laughed, the sound callous and cutting. “Just admit it already. Tell me you want this cock. Tell me nothing can fill you up quite like my dick. You’re only punishing yourself by holding out like this.” The hand stroking his cock released its grip and instead pressed against your core, giving the most tantalizing brushes against your throbbing clit before pulling away again. “C’mon, beg for it, sweetheart. I already told you, I’m feeling forgiving today. I just might give you what you want.”
You lifted your chin, a scowl spreading on your face, but the expression faltered as he brushed your clit again. “I already told you—” a small gasp as he pressed against the pulsing nerves, making your hips jolt and your core clench—“I took care of my—”
Caleb leaned forward, running his tongue along the slit of your mouth and eating your words before you could finish them. “I. Don’t. Believe. You.”
He used his evol to spread your legs on either side of him, exposing your dripping core to the shaft of his cock instead of his thigh. He was no longer bouncing his leg but thrusting his hips, bucking them up so his hot dick slid between your folds without penetrating you, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“If you’d sated yourself properly,” he panted, “you would have been fast asleep by the time I got home, fucked out and dead to the world. Instead, you were sitting there wide awake. I could practically smell your need when I stepped through the door. Admit it, baby. Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Caleb—Gege, please—”
“Use my proper title, baby. You’ve been awfully bratty tonight, so show me you remember what respect means.” He brushed his thumb up against your clit again, notching the fat head of his cock right at your entrance while using your gravity against you to make sure you didn’t slide onto him.
Fuck it.
His sultry, demanding tone, his hot pulsating cock pressed against your wet pussy…
You couldn’t take it anymore.
He’d won.
“Colonel Xia. Please. Please fuck me. I didn’t take care of myself. I can’t take care of myself,” you babbled out, the words falling like summer rain, Caleb the parched earth ready to drink them up. He was unblinking, watching every shape your lips made as the filthy words fell out, memorizing them like he’d replay this moment for days to come. You wiggled your hips, trying to slide down onto his cock, but he held you back, waiting for more—his brow arched higher, signalling he wasn’t satisfied with your confession yet. “Colonel, I’m begging you. You’re the only one who can satisfy me. Will you give me your dick? Please? Please fuck me? I’ve been waiting all day. I need you so fucking bad.”
Your voice grew threadier and higher-pitched the longer you talked, Caleb’s perverse smile creeping higher and higher with it.
“So you admit it, then? That you lied?” he asked, hoarse and breathless.
A humiliated blush spread across your cheeks as you nodded. He’d caught you; you’d lost control of this little game. Your attempts at unraveling the Colonel had only unravelled yourself, and he was taking immense pleasure in it.
“Well, thanks for coming clean with me,” he said, leaning up to press a kiss to your lips. It was chaste, no tongue, and though you tried to urge him to let you in with a tug of your teeth at his lower lip, he broke it off too soon. He pulled back, sunset-tinted eyes the color of the sky seconds before night fell.
It was then that you knew he hadn’t forgiven you yet. This wasn’t the Caleb who would deliver whatever you wanted; this was the Caleb who was going to punish. The dark chuckle he let out confirmed his intentions.
He commanded gravity to put you on the floor on your knees as he stood up. He bent you over the couch next, tummy pressed against the cushions, your ass bared to the air as he stepped behind you. You turned around to look over your shoulder just in time to see him pull the riding crop to him from the kitchen counter.
Oh, no.
“You’re so cute when you beg for me,” he purred, running his fingers down the length of the grip before caressing the leather flap at the end. When his fingers fell away from the tool, they immediately returned to his cock, pumping the length hard and fast. “But I don’t tolerate liars. I still have to punish you for that, okay, baby? Think you can handle the Colonel’s reprimand?”
You whimpered, flinching as he swatted the end of the crop against his own palm, the lightning-like crack a promise of the incoming pain you would have to endure. Your heart was pounding in time with your cunt, a bit of slick moisture pooling from your core and down your leg. “C-Caleb—Colonel Xia, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good, I won’t lie again—”
“I know you won’t, baby. I’ll make sure of it.” He trailed the crop across your spine, down the crevice of your bottom, stopping to kiss the slit of your core. The cool leather made you tense up—he rubbed it through your wetness a few more times until the leather warmed, your body adjusting to the sensation. “I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit for a week without remembering the consequences of lying to me.”
And right as you were comfortable, he pulled back the riding crop from its caress across your pussy and lashed it across the flesh of your ass. You yelped, loud and desperate like a frightened animal, pushing forward like you could climb into the couch cushions to escape. But there was Caleb’s evol again, holding you down so that you couldn’t squirm. The sting was sharp and exquisite all at once, the biting pain dissipating into a burning heat that only fueled your want more.
Another hot drop of slick pooled from your core.
Caleb gave you a moment to say something, to use your safe word, to call this punishment off. But you only whimpered, sucking in a shaky breath as you prepared for the next lash.
“I’m sorry, Gege.”
“Aww,” Caleb cooed again, honey infused with spice. “I’m sure you are, sweetheart. But your Gege isn’t here right now.”
Another lash of the crop against your ass, hitting the other cheek this time, making sure you couldn’t predict exactly where the stinging lash would hit next.
“Only the Colonel.”
Another stinging lash, this time on the spot he had pinched earlier, making the ache that much deeper and potent.
“Ngh!”
“So tell the Colonel how sorry you are, yeah?”
When the crop met your flesh again, it wasn’t with a lash, but with a tender stroke down your pussy. You flinched as if it were biting into your skin, the whiplash of sensations sending your nerves tittering. It took you a second to melt back into the touch as he traced it through your dripping core, rubbing it across your pulsating bundle of nerves.
“I’m sorry, Colonel,” you whined, pushing up against the crop in an attempt to get more friction, but he quickly pulled back to keep the touch only featherlight.
“For what, baby?”
“For lying.”
“Lying about what? Be specific.”
Another lash.
“For pretending I touched myself!” you gasped out as the lash landed across a spot he’d already hit, the pain magnified. “For pretending I didn’t want you. That I didn’t need you.”
“Mmm. Now we’re getting somewhere,” Caleb hummed to himself. There was the sound of his body adjusting, the slight shifting of his body felt through the floor as he moved closer. You felt something press against your wet hole—not the smooth leather of the crop, but something hot and thick and pulsing. He was kneeling behind you now, notching his cockhead to where you needed him most. The next sound you made was something between a mewl and a sob, and you tried to push back onto him so that he would finally fill you up, but you were met with his bruising grip on your hip to hold you at bay as another lash came down hard on your ass.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked. “Don’t get greedy.” He gripped his cock and swirled it inside your wet folds, caressing the edges of your core. “You’ll get this cock when I think you’ve earned it. Tell me why you lied to me.”
“I—I don’t know, Caleb—”
He tapped the flat end of the leather against you again, a gentle reminder before he gave another biting sting.
“Colonel! I’m sorry. I meant Colonel. I don’t know. I just…”
He leaned down low, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “You just what, baby?”
“I was hurt that you were home late,” you gasped out, hating how stupid it sounded. You’d known it was stupid at the time, but having to admit to it and explain yourself? “I was hurt that you ignored my texts all day. I just wanted you, and I’m tired of feeling like you’re slipping right through my fingers.”
Caleb stilled, the silence of the room briefly feeling heavier than the swollen cock notched at your entrance. He wasn’t even breathing, like your words had run off with his lungs.
A few moments later, there was the sound of the riding crop being set down. He placed both of his hands on your hips, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles there.
“I’m not slipping through your fingers, pipsqueak.”
The cadence of his voice had abandoned all pretense. It was soft, earnest, and maybe just a little bit broken—like your answer had been a bit too real, a bit too grounding in the middle of your heated passion.
But then he started to slip his cock inside of you, millimeter by millimeter. The stretch was slow, deliberate, and overwhelming.
“There’s never a time that I’m not yours, baby,” he said, a slight tremble marking his promise. “Even when I’m busy at work. Even if I’m late replying to you.”
He used his thumbs to spread apart your folds, hyperfixated as he watched the way the girth of his cock filled out your clenching hole. He took in every detail, memorizing the trails of slick marking the paths his tongue would take down your thighs later, the shapes of the blooming welts his riding crop had left on your ass, the quivering shake of your thighs as you took him in, welcoming him warmly the way you should’ve when he got home.
“I’m always thinking about you. Thinking about what you’re doing, how you’re feeling. Worrying about you. Missing you.” He swallowed, biting back a moan as your core pulsed around the top half of his cock. “Thinking about what I’ll do with you when I get home after a long day of work, trying not to obsess over those texts when I need to focus.”
When he finally got down to the last few inches, he slammed them home, making you cry out louder than the riding crop had made you squeal. It made him smile, a real smile, not a taunting one put on for show to make you cower.
“So next time I get home, pips…” he said, leaning close again so that every word filled your ears without any space to diminish them, “Don’t give me the cold shoulder.”
When he slapped your ass this time, it was with his own palm. It connected hard against your curves, his fingers clamping down to leave their own bruises. He didn’t want a tool coming between you this time; he wanted your pain, your punishment to come directly from him.
“You tell me how much you missed me. Tell me you’re frustrated, tell me you need me, but don’t just ignore me. Understood?” he asked as he pulled his cock almost all the way out, leaving only his thick, leaking cockhead inside your walls. When you didn’t respond, too lost in the sensations, he delivered another blow of his palm against your ass and drove his cock back into you; you cried out, a moan and a cry. “Words, pipsqueak. I need to hear you say it.”
“I—I understand, Colonel,” you were sobbing in earnest now, finally getting what you needed, finally full of the man that you’d been craving all day, assured that his absences were only temporary. “I’m sorry, Colonel. I’m really sorry.”
He hummed appreciatively with a relieved exhale, his balls pressing tight against your bottom as he filled you to the hilt.
“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “I know you are.” His hands trailed up your arms, wrapping around your wrists and prying them away from the cushions. “I think I know how you can make it up to me, though.”
“How, Colonel?”
He pulled your arms towards him, angling them so he could grip both of your wrists in one hand at the small of your back, freeing his other hand to wrap around the length of your locks once again. Your breasts cushioned you against the seat of the couch as he angled your head to look at him over your shoulder.
“You’re going to take this cock, okay, baby?” He pulled back, thrusted forward, pulled back again, preparing you for the intensity of the pace he was about to set. “You’re going to be a good girl and take everything I have to give you. Think you can do that?”
You nodded as much as you could, given his grip in your hair, but his raised brow reminded you to speak your acknowledgment, too. “Yes, Colonel. I can take your cock.”
Caleb smiled, his eyes trailing down your body to where he filled you up. “That’s my girl.” He licked his lips, continuing his hammering pace, using his grip on your hair and arms for leverage to pull your pussy against him. “You’re going to cum three times on my cock to prove you learned your lesson. Alright? Any less, and you’re getting more lashings, do you und—”
But before he was even done saying the words, your back was tensing and arching, a high-pitched, reedy whine slipping from your lips and filling the space between you. Your core clenched around him, gripping his cock like it was holding on for dear life as your climax hit you. Your inner walls beat a fast rhythm against his shaft and cockhead that had him doubling over, biting his tongue to keep from releasing his own cum inside of you.
“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!” you chanted, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth and spilling onto the cushions. “Caleb, I’m—ngh—cumming!”
He kept up the vicious pace, riding you through your orgasm. When your spine began to flatten out, your body melting from the falling climax, he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.
“Well, there’s one—let’s see those other two orgasms, yeah, sweet girl?”
°˖✧~*♡*~✧˖°