Obedience 12
Author: timrod
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mmmmike
Disclaimer: I don't own Green Day. Dammit. Think of the fun if I did.
Part twelve of fuck knows.
Goes hand in handcuffs with
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Have you ever had one of those occasions where every sensation, smell or sound burns itself on your memory, so much so that any one of them can trigger the most vivid flashbacks? That, for me, was tonight. Or this morning, to be accurate. I was going to remember this for a very long time. Prepping Mike for his first beating is seriously right up there with the best moments of my life. He dragged pillows under him, being careful to keep the towel between skin and silk, and propped his head on another so that he could watch me, silent, hardly even blinking, but breathing like he had just finished a run on his treadmill.
I dug out the flogger from under the pile of discarded toys in the box, untangling it from the soft ropes that he had used on me. I wasn’t even sure that he wanted me to tether him. but when I went to drop them back in the box, he murmured my name in a way that could only be interpreted as ‘please feel free to make me as vulnerable as possible’. In the end, I went one better. I found two further lengths, and I looped those around his ankles, attaching them to the legs of the bed, just to make sure that I had full access to the Teasers and their control. He made encouraging noises, especially when I gave The One Left Behind a little more attention, and also when I showed him the frankly obscene selfie I took with his phone. It was a little blurred, because my hands were trembling, I was so aroused by what was about to happen. Him, too, judging by the little wriggles and sighs that came from him, sort of leap-frogging each other. The interlude with the dvds had reset our libidos to what Mike calls orgy mode, when anything and everything that seems physically impossible becomes possible. The memory of him doing this to me came flooding back, and yes, I recall he was like me, shaky and desperately serious, but more than that, I remember just how much it turned him on.
It took me a while to get everything together - both accessories and my mind. The peppermint lotion, perfect for making flogged skin prickle for ages after the beating was over, had gone missing, but I eventually found it under the bed, where it had rolled. In the time it took me to find it and grab a fresh box of tissues from the closet, Mike was soaked from head to toe in an even mist of sweat, like he’d been attacked with one of those sprays Mom uses on her houseplants. I squatted next to him, drinking in the exquisite inky beauty of his sinewy arms, and his wide-spread legs which made the muscles of his butt bunch up into two delicious, solid mounds. I took a few deep breaths to compose myself, and picked up the flogger.
“You okay with this still?” I had to ask, even though using it had been his idea, both times.
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”
“And what about this?” I stroked down from his balls to his heavy cock, which nearly touched the mattress, and his ass raised a few inches for a second. “Do you want to wait, like me, or ….?”
“Jesus, don’t know, don’t care, I just ….” His words tailed off into a growl. “Like the old days, Billie. Improvise.”
I could only nod, because the lump in my throat got in the way of my voice. Those early days of our relationship were an adventure, when neither of us had a clue about what we were doing, we just knew we wanted to do it, and most of the time, it turned out perfect. We had to jump in at the deep end, because there was nobody we could ask for advice, nobody we could confide in. Today, there is a world of information as close as the phone in your pocket, as Mike had discovered two days ago when he searched for guidance on Beating For Beginners ……
…..which brings me back to the very vivid reality of what I was about to put him through.
I started as he had, with gentle trailing strokes of the flails over his flesh, followed by my flattened hand, but I soon made sure my touch was a little firmer than he had used on me, because he has to have the most ticklish skin on the planet (except, perhaps, for Glory. She squeals when we are still three inches away from her.). Still, the twin sensations of flogger and fingers made goosebumps bloom over him, and he grunted as a response to every strengthening impact, the volume matched to the intensity. In between, he shivered almost constantly, until the first seriously heavy stroke made him tense, and the ropes tighten. His skin had flushed from paper-pale to a very pleasing pink, streaked with a darker shade still as I added the scrape of my nails into the equation, being careful to mark him, but not draw blood.
A few minutes in, his butt was criss-crossed with parallel lines, and I had to check to make sure I wasn’t going too far, because he’d gone kinda quiet. His eyes were closed, and he seemed surprised when I kissed his ear, but his soft reply reassured me that I was doing just fine. I scattered a few more lashes over him, and while he was coping with the fading sting in his own, understated way, I turned my attention to the Teasers, still throbbing relentlessly inside him. I murmured an order for him to relax, and gently pulled out two of the beads.
I’d only had the unmotorised plug in me during my flogging, and that had felt pretty fucking wonderful, acutely aware of the attention my ass was getting. This toy, with its bulk and buzz, must have been so much more intense for him to deal with. Seriously, I could feel it when I stroked certain areas of his butt on the outside. As the two spheres reappeared, his head arched back, his eyes now open wide, and a full-throttle scream cut the near-silence to shreds. His stretched neck made me remember the collar that I had been wearing, that had limited my breathing to such a delicious extent, and so, when I cupped my hand over his hole, pressing the last visible Teaser hard against him, I smothered his mouth with a kiss. I wondered for a moment about leaving them alone, or maybe taking them out altogether, or at least turning them off, and I broke the kiss to make sure I wasn’t going over the top, but Mike’s frantic shaking of his head allayed my fears, until he could find the breath to speak.
“Fuck, no. Feels great. Keep going. Want more.”
He wasn’t the only one. I felt like I did after three days’ abstinence before the coyly-named ‘harvesting’ at the baby clinic, although I also thought that I could happily watch him like this for hours. With me, there had been a steady build-up, a few strokes at the most intense level and then a gradual cool-down, all within the recommended thirty minutes time-frame, but Mike’s reactions, if not his voice, seemed to be cranked up to eleven throughout the whole session and it was hard to judge just how long we’d been doing this. In reality, he probably endured about the same number of heavy strokes as my butt had, because I spent as much time making the inside of his ass feel as good as it did on the outside. Not only did I take the Teasers out, either one or two at a time, but sometimes I fed them back into him, and adjusted the strength of the vibration accordingly - the fewer he had in him, the higher the dial was cranked. When there were enough on the outside of his body to reach, I made sure they lay against his balls, which were hanging so low, stretching the skin of his sac with their weight. I kept contact with his cock to the bare minimum, though, because it seemed that the slightest thing would send him hurtling over the edge, and I wanted to dictate the exact moment of his descent into oblivion. He had so much to cope with - the sudden pain of the flails, the drawn out scratch of my nails over stinging skin, as well as the input from one of the most ingenious sex toys we’ve ever handled - but I took him almost to breaking pointas often as I could, prolonging his agonising ecstasy.
I waited until there were only two Teasers left inside him, when his ass was as red as his face, and the towel below him was stained dark with perspiration and, I suspect, a fair amount of pre-come. Each slap of the flails on his flesh provoked a whimper, even the gentlest of them, and I needed to finish this for him, not least of all because my cock was aching to be touched. Fuck knows how his must have felt. Keeping up two fingers’ pressure on his hole, I told him his future.
“I’m nearly done. You’re going to come for me, okay?”
“Yeah, fuck . Close ….”
“Shh, I know, Baby. I’m gonna count you down.”
He spluttered, a reply that neither of us understood, and before I picked up the flogger for this final approach, I turned the toy inside him to maximum speed, and told him just how much I loved him for the hundredth time today.
They’re small, these individual beads, but heavy, and on his front like this, their weight was directly over his prostate, thank you, gravity. I gave him a few seconds to get used to the frankly violent vibration, then commenced Operation Exploding Bassist.
“Three.”
This was, I admit, a pretty vicious stroke, calmed instantly by firm pressure from my palm, no nails involved. That would probably have had him finish ahead of schedule, and neither of us planned on that.
“Two.”
Hard, still, and in exactly the same place as the last one, but he didn’t scream too loud. I braced myself for the coup de grace, and so did he. My heart thudding wildly, I whispered,
“Come.”
A moderate strike landing squarely on a buttock that was clenched as solid as a bowling ball did for him. For a few seconds, he made no noise at all, his body rigid, the ropes taut enough to make the headboard creak as he fought against the spasms that wanted to bend his body in half. I’d dropped the flogger as soon as I had dealt the fatal blow, now crouched low beside him to watch his seed stream from him, onto the towel, overspilling to stain the sheets. The Teasers swung madly, like outdoor lights in a winter wind, his ass rising and falling to the same rhythm as the unrelenting hum that was now almost drowned out by my name on repeat, in a voice so husky, I could hardly recognise it. I popped the last two Teasers onto the bed and switched them off, then smothered my beautiful, obedient man with the lotion that was designed to stimulate, not soothe.
I don’t think he has ever looked so fuckable, and I say this of a man who can look sexy when he’s changing Ollie’s diaper. A tiny voice at the back of my conscience told me to let him recover at his own pace, but my balls were hurting, straining to empty and truly, jerking off was not an appealing thought. What did appeal was hot, and passionate and feral, and before I considered the consequences of my actions, I rubbed my cockhead through the lotion on his glowing ass, then rammed myself balls-deep into his slightly open hole. He did nothing to resist me, and I totally lost my shit in a handful of heady, lust-fuelled seconds, encouraged by a zillion, delicious little after-shocks that didn’t weaken, not so much that I could tell, anyway. The lotion, too, felt great, cool on my heated skin, and Mike’s constant wail of my name was sweeter than music to my ears.
The fuck didn’t last long enough to hurt him, and I knew I’d just provided the ammunition to be teased for the rest of my life about how quickly I’d shot my load, but I couldn’t have cared less. My orgasm had been nothing short of stunning, and by the way Mike’s body was twitching under and around me, his hadn’t exactly been a disappointment, either. I decided on one last killer blow, hoping it would make him remember something other than my blink-and-you’ll-miss-it lovemaking. I licked his hole, sticky and tasting of a bizarre blend of almond, peppermint and me, before moving up to his hip, back, shoulder, eventually reaching his lips, where I gently eased us both back down to earth.
Mid-kiss, I started to untie his hands, and when he was half-free, he jettisoned the pillow to twist and face me, wrapping me tight in an embrace that made my breathing shallow and wheezy, bur it was heaven, hot, come-streaked bodies pressed together, reeking of sweat and sex. He makes me feel safe, loved and so happy, and I almost forgot my super-fast performance. Almost. I broke the kiss to give him a sheepish grin by way of an apology for my lack of finesse.
“Nice improvisation. That was so fucking hot.” A beautifully wicked smile spread over his face. “And quick.”
“All part of the plan.”
“Yeah. Obviously. I believe you.” He gets this awesome twinkle in his eyes when he’s patronising me, and I fall under its spell every time. “Love you …”
I kissed him again, right on the tip of his nose, and up-ended myself to release his feet from the ropes. I was on my knees, ass in the air as I struggled to undo knots that had tightened during the flogging, and it sounds mad, but I could feel his eyes on me. I wasn’t completely surprised when his weight shifted on the mattress, nor when the heat of his hand cupped my balls, but the chill of the peppermint lotion was a shock, as I felt it before I smelled it.
“Fuck!” I sort of reared up, almost losing my balance. A cool trail was sliding down over my entrance, and when it reached his hand, Mike massaged it into my sac. I moaned, and pushed back into his palm, amazed at the vague flutter in my belly that told me this wasn’t over yet. He rolled my balls in much the same way as the Teasers had moved inside him, and even as that thought crossed my mind, I felt something press against my hole, soft and spiky, and definitely vibrating - or was that me? I could hear Mike doing his deep concentration breathing, and I took in a huge lungful myself to help me relax.
“That’s it, easy now, Beej. Don’t tense, give them room to move.” His voice was like the flogger, soft in one direction, rough in the other. I nodded, finally undoing the last knot with shaky fingers as he pushed about six of the Teasers into me in quick succession. They took some of the lube with them, spreading a coldness that was in direct contrast to the latent heat inside me. It felt so fucking good. I settled onto all fours and closed my eyes, wallowing in the sensuousness of my lover’s touch.
He had one hand on my hip now, steadying me as he posted bead after bead past my pliant muscles, whispering sweet nothings as he did so. Like I had done with him, he rolled a few of the spheres over me, their spiky surface making me tingle, especially where the peppermint oil remained. I lost count, hypnotised by the regular thrum of the motor, but I could feel the stretch as more and more of them were crowded in. It was a great feeling, but I was only half-hard, despite the building pressure on my prostate. That situation improved when he put the penultimate one into me, and notched the speed up. He motioned for me to settle back on the pillows that he hadn’t pushed to the floor, and while our tongues fought for dominance, he started to rub my belly.
It’s something he has always done to me, and I love it. In our teens, it was a trick he used when meals were a long way apart - my aching, empty guts hurt less after he’d massaged the hunger pains away, and later, when we had enough money to be able to actually buy food, well, it just felt good. Most recently, he spent hours smothering me with lotion to save me getting stretch-marks from the pregnancies, and after the births, to help the scars fade. Part of my stomach is still numb from where they cut me to deliver the babies, (the incision that my surgeon always refers to as a bikini line scar, much to Mike’s amusement) but it was and always will be a comforting, intimate and caring gesture. Tonight, he left behind a vaguely cool sensation from the lotion he’d used on my balls, and once or twice, the top of his fingers brushed the underside of my cock, which was not yet fully erect, but lying heavy along the crease of my groin. The third or fourth time that happened, I moaned extra-loud because it coincided with a tumble of Teasers inside me, and, continuing the kiss, his fist closed around me, easily completing the job of restoring my erection.
I was quite content to carry on like this, not even caring if I came or not, just relishing the closeness. The Teasers felt brilliant, shuddering against each other in the most delicious way, and his hand on me is always welcome, but he had other ideas. Shit, does he have some ideas! He gave me one final squeeze, and shuffled on his knees until he was level with mine.
“Beej, lift …” He patted my hip and I complied, the Teasers shifting dramatically as my pelvis tilted. He wedged a pillow under me, covered with the very damp towel, in such a way that I couldn’t lie with my legs straight. “That’s it. How do they feel?” He accompanied the question with a small tug on the control unit, and the rockfall inside me started again.
“Fucking gorgeous. Love them, but ….” I looked at the two toys left in our depleted Trial Pile, and Mike followed my gaze.
“Yeah, I hadn’t forgotten. I just want you to try these so bad. Is that okay?”
I smiled at him, heart as full of love as my ass was of silicon, and nodded. “My number three. If this is what you want, yeah, it’s fine.”
“We still got a couple of days, and yeah, this is what I want.”
“In that case, it’s what I want, too.”
Straight away, he clambered into the space my splayed legs had created, crouching down so low I could feel his breath on my balls. One at a time, he lifted my legs onto his shoulders, wriggling until he was in the most comfortable position for me, then slid his lips to engulf the whole length of my cock. As soon as my head-thrown-back scream faded away, I fixed my eyes on his, and grabbed a generous handful of blond hair.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
He pulled off, licking his lips hungrily, and yes, he was tasting a cock that had recently been in his ass, but we broke that taboo over twenty years ago. He nodded to the nightstand. “Pass me the lube, Babe. You’re gonna need more. Thanks.”
He put the bottle within easy reach, gave me another of what I call his eye-fucks, and took my cock back into his mouth.
Watching Mike when you are on the receiving end of one of his blow-jobs is hot. He kept doing this long, slow blink thing, each time accompanied by a loud moan which vibrated through my member, turning a third orgasm since our intermission from a vague possibility to an absolute probability. He only seemed to open his baby blues half way, giving me that same sexy look from under his expressive eyebrows whenever he worked on the Teasers, either tugging at them, or pressing the last one against me to increase the divine, tantalising tickle.
It was a challenge, keeping eye contact, but I know how much he loves it, and so I fought to keep my head up and my gaze steady. The throb inside me was intense, strong enough to echo through my whole body when a Teaser shivered itself against my spine, although I knew by the noise it was making that it wasn’t at full power yet. I guessed Mike was saving that for the end, just as I had, and thanks to his talented mouth and tongue, that wasn’t going to be too far in the future. I let go his hair, instead playing with his bar earring, swinging and catching the light as he bobbed up and down. He pulled off, keeping me on the boil with his hand, and sort of purred before he spoke.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, great. Teasers feel awesome, too. Love you.”
He smiled, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna love me more in a minute. A lot more.” With that, he swallowed me down again, and I dragged another pillow under my head to get an even better view of my favourite sight on earth.
The first thing he did was turn up the Teasers to maximum, deep-throating me until I got as used to the vibration as I was ever going to get. Jesus, it was so much more intense than it had appeared when they were inside Mike. He squeezed my ass cheeks together for good measure, before posting that last, over-sized Teaser into me, pulling it straight back out before I had a chance to protest. I’d just about caught my breath when he started to take the rest out of me.
He had learned from the master - okay, me. The toy reappeared one or two beads at a time, only for one or both of them to be reinserted, accompanied by an extra deep suck, or a swirl of his tongue over my slit. Pleasure washed over me in waves as he took me a little closer with each passing second. I was covered in sweat, his and mine mingled from my hips down, and I locked my ankles behind his neck, framing his face with my legs. I couldn’t see his hands, so whenever he did anything to me - which included putting every last one of the Teasers back inside me, lubed with the skin-chilling lotion which dripped over my balls - I didn’t know what he was going to do until he had already done it and that was incredible. Couple that with his relentless tongue, and my fate was sealed. My hips jerked upward, heels dug hard into his shoulders and I thought it only fair to warn him, even though he must have been acutely aware that I was ready to surrender. He blinked again, slower this time, my cock as far down his throat as it would go without choking him as he tugged every last Teaser out of my clenched butt in one slow, shuddery stream.
And yes, he was right. I loved him a whole lot more.
******
The next thirty minutes or so was filled with rubbing his tortured ass with more lotion, with giggles and groans, and long, comfortable silences, two contented souls wrapped in each other, physically and mentally, conscious of just how close we were to sleep, but fighting it, until even thinking about staying awake was too tiring. We slept with our lips touching, bathed in the warming light that chased away the night’s shadows, only stirring when the alarm on Mike’s phone went off at 6.00 am, because the asshole had forgotten to turn the fucking thing off.