Master's Boy (mxb)

By Aubrey-Faith

783K 38.3K 16.3K

[Book 2] Jerry McQueen was a needy bottom and proud to admit it. However, even he couldn't deal with the atte... More

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Three

17.6K 903 196
By Aubrey-Faith

Jerry's POV

I was more than delighted that our scene could continue, even after the whole fiasco with Robert's parents. The whole situation had bothered me less than it bothered Robert, so I was happy to put it behind us.

I stripped down to nothing and relaxed with my hands behind my back, the way I thought Robert might like.

He kissed my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut. With his hands placed firmly on my shoulders, I was able to find that peaceful place inside that embraced being wholly his.

"Good boy, keep them shut," he ordered, a touch of sweetness in his voice. "I'll lead you."

With one hand firmly keeping my wrists in place, Robert gently directed me towards the living room. It was weird; even though I knew he wouldn't lead me right into a wall, I had to give over a bit of trust with every step.

"Open up and take a look," he instructed.

I opened my eyes and, sure enough, the couch of impact toys was right in front of me. My cock did a happy little jump at the sight before me; it was like kinky heaven.

"You can only pick one," Master Robert said, running his hand down my back and squeezing my ass. "I'll warm you up with a spanking first, of course."

Mmm. He'd spanked me before. I shivered thinking about how it had felt to be displayed across his lap, with his strong hand baring down on me.

"I can't wait," I mumbled, without even thinking. All that I knew was that, looking at the couch before me, I was getting hornier by the second. It was like my cock was honestly trying to reach out and grab the flogger by itself.

"Oh, me either, sweet boy."

I reached out and picked up the paddles, the floggers, and the canes. I knew to avoid the canes. Those were notorious. And as much as I really wanted to try out a flogger, because that was a classic, I got nervous about it. Maybe I'd work my way up the kink ladder.

Instead, I grabbed a thin, leather paddle. It seemed kinda small, relatively harmless. There were some holes in it for seemingly no reason, and I kinda liked that. I brandished it to Master Robert with a smile. "This is my fighter."

Except, shit, when I was looking back, Robert had his arms crossed over his chest, which made his biceps bulge. He looked so freaking hot and intimidating that my insides melted. And better yet, he smirked at me and asked, "Are you sure about that one?"

I looked at the paddle. It was a cute little rectangle, maybe about eight inches long. How bad could it be?

So I turned back to him and said, "Yes, Sir," with a shit-eating grin.

He smirked and gathered up the other toys to make room for us. He reclined in the center of the couch and smirked at me. "C'mon, boy, make yourself comfortable."

Shit. Arousal pooled in my stomach at the humiliation of willingly positioning myself across his lap like a child who'd done something naughty. Suddenly I was ass-up right in front of him, burying my cheek into the soft material of the couch.

I couldn't see what he was doing back there, but suddenly I felt his hand grope at my ass, squeezing and rubbing. He growled low and said, "Fuck, this ass is fucking beautiful."

And even though it was a little bit of a rougher compliment, my heart somehow fluttered at it. "Thank you, Sir."

"What a good boy you are," he said adoringly. And without any warning, his hand smacked my ass so hard that I yelped and lurched forward.

I was held back from any further movement and the stinging pain returned again, in quick succession. After the shock of the initial spank was over, I was able to settle down and focus on the repetition of Master Robert's movements.

Each spank stung for a second, before heat and pleasure radiated over my ass. I could help but make noise; I'd yelp with each slap, and moan with the pleasure afterwards.

Master Robert held me still and increased the intensity. I bit my lip and moaned as my ass began to burn from the rapid impacts and the harshness. Then, suddenly, his hand was gone and I was left in a wave of pleasure.

I could tell that he was doing something with his hands, but my mind had gone fuzzy at the edges from pleasure. It wasn't quite submission, but it was the first stages. I allowed myself to relax, banish thoughts from my mind, and focus on the feeling.

"Good boy, just relax," he cooed, pressing a finger at my hole. I sighed in pleasure, closing my eyes and focusing only on the feeling he was giving me.

My haze of pleasure was interrupted by another harsh slap, then another. I whined and fought between pushing up onto Robert's fingers, or pulling away from his harsh slaps.

When he pulled out, my awareness was brought back to my ass. There wasn't just one spot that hurt; my entire ass throbbed and ached. Robert's hand at the small of my back anchored me to the world, or else my mind would've submit to the urge to float in pleasure.

I gasped when he rested the leather paddle against my ass. That was a warning, possibly. He tapped my ass a tiny bit, before pulling back and cracking the leather over my ass.

The sound jolted me as much as the flash of pain did, and I found myself begging him— "Oh, fuck, Sir, I'm sorry—"

I didn't know what I was sorry for, exactly, but that was what was coming out of my mouth.

"Good boy, stay still for me," he cooed, rubbing his bare hand over my ass. "You've got a long way to go."

"Oh, fuck—!" I cried with the second harsh slap of the paddle. I tried, uselessly, to fight him, but he was bigger and stronger and held me in place. "That hurts—"

"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked carefully, stroking my ass gently enough for me to sob.

"Yes, Sir," I managed to grit out, even though my eyes were beginning to well with tears. "Please keep going."

Because as much as it hurt, when he stopped I was left with a pleasure that went so deep it almost unhinged me.

He kept the strikes coming, hardly resting in between them. I sobbed and thrashed and cried enough to give myself a headache, but I never once asked him to stop. Every break between his hits left the same feeling: a wave of pleasure so deep that my brain turned into mush.

I was babbling incoherently, and in return, my Master kept paddling my ass.

Every so often, he would pause to stroke my skin, kiss my back, and tell me how good I was. "You should see these marks, baby," he cooed. "I'm so proud of you. You're doing so well."

And even though I was crying into a pillow and my ass felt like it was on fire, my heart swelled with delight because I was being a good boy.

"Tell me: do you think you can take more?"

I honestly didn't remember how to use my voice anymore, and I was beginning to float in a haze of pleasure. The strikes didn't hurt nearly as much as before, and I was a good boy. I was barely able to nod my head, but I tried, because I didn't ever want this to end.

My Master placed his hand on my ass and I moaned. Just that single touch made my skin light up with pleasure.

"Do you remember your safe word, boy?"

I wanted to laugh at him. Safe word? I didn't need it; nothing had ever felt this good in my entire life. My ass was warm and burning, sure, but my mind was filled with euphoria.

My Master had asked me a question. My safe word? Cactus. I knew that. I nodded.

"Good boy. Five more from the paddle."

I wanted to whine, tell him that I wanted more, but then my strike came and I was groaning. It was a softer touch, like the ones he'd used in the beginning. The one that came after that was even softer. It was like he was taking me down from my high, slowly.

I didn't even hear him tell me I was done. I closed my eyes and let myself float in the pleasure, and hardly stirred when my Master picked me up like a princess. I curled into his touch and patted the strong muscles of his chest, and plopped a kiss on his neck, without opening my eyes.

I could feel the laughter in his chest, and hear him talking, but I didn't wanna pay attention. I wanted to float.

I was surrounded by the softness of a bed and blankets, and a cool hand was rubbing over my aching bottom. The feeling was enough to send me into euphoria.

"Fuck...I love you..." I muttered, wiggling my butt to get closer to that feeling.

The laughter came back, and I slowly came to my senses. I recognized the soft stroking of fingers between my hair, the sting at my ass became less of a sting and more of a raging fire of agony, and my eyelashes fluttered open.

That feeling of complete affection and devotion didn't diminish with my pleasure. It only grew as I looked at my disheveled man, his dilated pupils and his soft smile.

"Hi, beautiful," he said, kissing my nose. The blue of his eyes held nothing but complete affection for me. "You were gone for a minute there."

I leaned into the touch of his hands in my hair and on my face. "Mmmmm."

He chuckled again. "I gave you cream for your poor bottom. Let me get you some water and Advil, okay? And some food. And then we'll talk about the scene?"

All of that sounded like a whole lot of bad. My heart dropped as he turned away from me, so I reached out and held him in place.

"I need—" I tried to blink away the fuzziness in my brain and tried to rationalize my sudden panic. "Please don't leave me, okay? I want to be with you."

His eyes softened and he nodded. "Of course, sweetheart."

And it was a good thing that my boyfriend was a tank of a human being, because he had no problem lifting me bridal-style and carrying me to the kitchen. I grabbed his bicep and held on, even as he shuffled to get me a drink and heat up dinner leftovers for the two of us.

My heart was still a twisted mess, but it calmed a little when he turned back towards me and tugged me into his arms. I lifted up on my toes, desperately, to get a kiss, and was rewarded with one that was long and loving. Whereas I didn't normally notice, tonight I loved the way he held my face in his hands and brought our bodies closer together.

I didn't realize how hungry and thirsty I was until I had food and water in front of me. For approximately two seconds, before I ate it. Robert and I curled up on the couch, making sure that my ass wasn't getting pressure from anything.

"Was it too much?" he asked, blue eyes touched with uncertainty. "We're only just discovering each other's limits, so I hope I didn't push any of yours."

I smiled and leaned into his touch. "It was perfect for me. Did you like it?"

His eyes darkened just a little. "Oh, sweet boy, you have no idea how much I liked watching you cry."

"Eep!" I squawked, finding the energy to tap his chest. "Psychopath. Hold me."

Robert laughed, a deep, loud sound that made my heart fill with helium, and he wrapped his arm around me. I drifted off to the relaxing feeling of his hand stroking through my hair and the television playing one of his stupid shark movies that he liked.

There was still a bit of a knot in my stomach, but it would probably go away.

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