Negotiations 42
Greetings friends! Thanks for your patience as I churned out a new chapter. Please let me know your thoughts. Hope everyone is well and hanging in there until January 20! ~Plum
Go back to Negotiations 41 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 42
DILL’S POV
forty minutes later
Justin awoke by launching a sneeze against your chest. You immediately stopped the game you were playing on your phone, “Bless you! And hello.”
He looked around confused, “Where’s Brian? I think your chest hair was tickling my nose.”
“Um, he said to tell you that he’s, ‘On his Slack channel riding some asses,’ for about an hour. He said you’d know what that means.”
Justin yawned, stretching one arm up, “Yeah. How long ago was that?”
“About twenty minutes. He also said that I should offer you a snack and make sure you drink something...like water. He specifically said no wine.”
Justin laughed a little before his lips formed a sweet smile, “Aw, he told you to take care of me.”
You nodded, “Yes. He gave you to me, covered you up, dimmed the lights and gave me lots of instructions.” You didn’t tell Justin that there had been so many that, when Brian left the room, you’d immediately logged them on your Notes app:
keep warm
morphine-like brain will come down
temp drop
BP drop
lightheaded
snacks
if upset or pain, text asap
Justin’s body elongated again, both arms this time, before he spoke, “Mmm. That’s sweet. I can’t believe I slept that hard.”
You blurted out the rest unsolicited, talking faster than you could modulate, “Well, Brian said you burnt up all your adrenaline being excited about today the way a kid does before his birthday party. You were drooling on him, you were so asleep.”
Justin rolled his eyes as he rolled onto his back, “Wow. He did, huh? C’mere. I wanna feel you.” He tugged on your arm, pulling you until you laid on top of him. His skin was still ridiculously warm and smooth. He touched your cheek with his fingertips and then kissed you. He ran his hand down your back and pressed down, “Stop resisting. Put your full weight on me. I said I want to feel you.”
You confessed as you tried to let yourself relax, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re little freaked out about what we did?” Justin asked quietly as he kissed your chin.
You were honest, “I mean, I’ve never seen somebody take that much pain and not seem to feel it. That was fucking intense.”
“I feel it; I just get to a point where my brain no longer processes it as pain. I feel pleasure instead.”
“You were almost crying-“
“I’m okay. That was just a release.”
“If you say so.”
Justin sighed, “Listen, Brian knows what he’s doing. He brought me to that point gradually and carefully, and above all, purposefully. He took me where I wanted to go. Was it the mirror that freaked you out? Being able to see it up close?”
“I’m not freaked out. I’m just kind of…. I mean, I didn’t know what was going to happen and all, but to see that you took all that for me-“
“Rest assured that you’re worth it, and that I’m very used to it,” Justin emphasized in a way that gave you a squishy warm rush for a few seconds.
”Thank you. I mean, clearly, that wasn’t your first rodeo or his. That was very obvious.” And then you remembered, “Brian, does he smoke?”
Justin stopped, his head cocked, “Why are you asking me that? Did he light up when I was asleep?”
“No, no, because he kissed me, and I think I tasted it.”
Justin looked relieved, “He does, supposedly never more than two a day, and he would be mortified that you could tell, so please don’t say anything to him.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Justin added, “You got to fuck me. Didn’t you like that?” Before you could form an answer, he was kissing you again, letting you know that conversation was stalling out. Minutes passed before you could respond, “Like it? I’ve never felt anything like that-“
“Good, let’s do it again,” Justin offered.
“Again? Aren’t you-?”
“I’m fine. Get a condom.”
You opened the drawer he was pointing to and retrieved one, “I feel like I should be more careful than this. Are you sure?”
“Okay, I’m going to give you my rationale for this in the form of a math problem. You’re a stats major, you can handle it,” Justin proposed.
“Okay.”
“Two part math problem. Part one: how old are you?”
You answered, “Twenty-two.”
“Excellent. Part two: You are twenty-two, therefore, how old is your cock?”
“Uh- twenty-two?”
“Bingo. You have a cock in its mid-twenties. I have an ass that would like to give a cock in that particular demo a temporary parking space...right now.”
You blurted out the truth, “Justin, I don’t know if I’m...allowed to-“
Justin’s body stiffened as he stopped administering affection, his hand firmly wrapped around your shoulder, “Excuse me?”
He did not look happy. You tried, “I’m sorry. I really am. I just-“
“Brian terrifies you, doesn’t he?” he asked rhetorically, but you nodded anyway as you continued your info dump, “I mean, he gave me all these instructions about keeping you warm because your body temp would drop and not to let you stand up too fast, but he didn’t say anything about fucking you again...Sir.”
Justin looked from side to side, licked his lips, closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them and responded, “Okay, listen to me. Eventually, Brian will make his way back down here, and when he does, I can either tell him you took good care of me or that you don’t know how to follow simple instructions. Which narrative do you want me to go with?”
“Justin-“
“Sir.”
“I mean, Sir-“
“Which one do you want? It’s your choice.”
“The first one.”
“Good boy. Put it on.”
You did. You fucked him again, and just as you were getting your groove calibrated, Justin wrapped his legs around your waist and squeezed you like a drug store blood pressure machine. You felt a tingle as all the blood left your toes. You stopped thrusting, “It hurts?” you asked.
He grinned and shook his head, “No, I’m not a china doll. I want to talk about you.”
“What about me? Am I doing it in a way you don’t like?”
“No, that’s impossible,” he laughed a little, “There’s no way you could fuck me that I wouldn’t like. Trust me-.” You started to respond and were discouraged; Justin pressed his index finger to your lips, “Shhhhh. You’re not in charge here, so just listen, got it?” You nodded. “Good. Now, as I said before, Brian will make his way back down here, and before that happens, I need to know what you want tonight.”
“Okay.”
Justin pointed to the exam table, “See that paper on that table?”
“Yes.”
“That’s new. He bought that just for you. I guarantee you that he’s ready to give you an experience on that table. Is that what you want tonight? You don’t have to, but I know him well enough to know how he thinks. He’s probably bought other things I don’t even know about. I need to know more about this medical kink you have, what direction it leads, okay?”
The subject made you uncomfortable which you tried to hide at first, “Okay.”
“Great. For instance, I’m assuming we can rule out a fetish for a pretend appendectomy or heart transplant?” You laughed, and Justin smiled, “There’s the Dill I know. Come down from your anxiety attic.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“No need to be sorry. Just talk to me.”
“Okay.”
“So ruling out those things and moving on; is this a blood fetish? Is this about needles and blades and bloodletting?”
You shook your head vigorously. Justin continued, “Okay, crossing that off. This is about playing doctor then?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Enemas?” he asked.
“Maybe, not tonight,” you clarified.
“Because you did that earlier today?”
“Yes,” you admitted, sufficiently blushing.
“So an examination would be fun?” Justin continued to probe. You couldn’t answer him; your throat constricted, so you just buried your face over his shoulder in a pillow you’d never appreciated more. He soothed you, his hands rubbing your back, “Okay, it’s okay. I understand.” It’s one thing (apparently) to text with strange men about these particulars, but face to face with him…completely different. You grunted in frustration at your own hesitation, and somehow he completely knew what you meant, “Dill, it’s okay. We want to give you what you want, but there’s no rush at all. I promise.” The amount of heat coming off your face legitimately should’ve set the pillow on fire. Justin kept at it, “We don’t even have to stay down here if it’s too overwhelming. We can go upstairs and watch a movie, order a pizza. Whatever you want.” Granted, a pizza sounded really good, but not as good as your other opportunities were at that moment. “Can you look at me?” Justin tried. You lifted your head fearing that he might not recognize you in what felt like a raw exposed state. “Are you green, yellow or red?” Justin asked you.
You took a deep breath and really considered his question, “Green, Sir.”
“Are you sure? You have to be honest with me about this.”
“I’m green, Sir. I don’t want tonight to end.”
“It doesn’t have to end regardless of color. We can adapt.”
“Light green.” Justin kept staring at you, waiting, you supposed, for the truth, so you tried again, “Sort of like an unripe banana….”
He smiled, “Okay, thank you. How about this? We finish fucking and just take a break. It’ll give you time to collect your thoughts,” Justin suggested.
“Okay. But I feel bad like I’m derailing this whole thing-.“
“Dill, you have to give yourself permission to feel what you feel. I don’t ever want you to be uncomfortable. That would hurt me, and it would upset Brian. Honesty doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Okay,” you said with too much skepticism in your voice.
“You have to trust me. If you don’t think you can, then we need to go back a few steps.”
“I trust you. Of course, I do,” you clarified because you did.
“Good, can you come?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“Then fuck me; I like having you inside me.” Once you put your mind to it, it didn’t take long at all. And fuck, hearing him moan underneath you was like the fucking Fourth of July.
…
Justin put on his pajamas as you were looking at your phone, “Oh fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My mom has called and texted a bunch. Shit. It’s probably nothing. We’re just close.”
“Okay, I’m going up to check on Brian. You call her back, and then, either wait here or get a snack in the kitchen. Whatever you want. You can text me.” He waived his phone back and forth.
“Okay, sorry about this,” you expressed.
“Dill, sorry is bullshit. It’s not necessary. See you in a minute.” Justin gave you a sweet kiss from his perch on the side of the bed, started to get up and then sat back down, his hand on your chest, “Also, I like the way you fuck me. You should know that you have a more than satisfactory cock.”
All you could think was that he’s used to Brian’s cock, so…
Wow.
***********
JUSTIN’S POV
You took both flights of stairs slowly and deliberately; your bare feet making no noise in the process. As you got closer to Brian’s office, you could hear the deep tones in his voice through the walls. Worried that he might be on Zoom, you texted him and then tapped lightly on th door.
“Come in,” you eventually heard. As you entered the room, Brian was turning off his monitor. “Hey, perfect timing, I’m all done.”
You walked in, “Good evening, Professor.”
Brian looked confused as he extended his hand to you, “Come again?”
“That education you gave to Dill? You crammed too much into one class,” you explained as Brian welcomed you onto his lap. Concern covered his face, “Why, what’s wrong?”
“You should’ve stayed or woken me up before you left. That was a lot for him to process alone.”
“Oh shit. You mad at me?” he asked.
“No, I’m not mad. Just don’t do that again while this is new. He gets caught up in his own head, and he’s sort of terrified of you.”
Brian grinned a tad too evilly, “Yeah, I noticed that.”
“And you’re getting off on it, too,” you pointed out.
Brian brought his index finger and thumb close together to indicate, “Just a smidge.”
“You’re incorrigible sometimes.”
“I know, but how’s your ass?” Brian inquired.
“Sublime, as always.” He hugged you tightly and kissed your neck. “You were almost perfect,” Brian added, “Behavior-wise.” You rolled your eyes; you were more than perfect. And then he leaned in and turned his monitor back on, exposing his view of the dungeon in a lower right window. He maximized it and you both saw Dill halfway under the covers and texting. “He looks okay to me,” Brian said.
“So you were watching us the whole time?” you asked.
“Well,” Brian conceded, “I tried, but I couldn’t concentrate on my work so I had to stop.”
You punched his bicep, “Good, serves you right for leaving me.”
“I had to do this. This presentation has to go flawlessly.”
“So does tonight,” you reminded him as you explained your brief conflict with Dill and how you resolved it. You ended with, “I even color checked him. He’s a quote ‘unripe banana,’ so I suggested we take a break.”
Brian had, in his own best interest, listened to your every word and came to the conclusion you wanted, “You’re right; tonight has to go perfectly. So what do we do next?”
You studied Brian’s face carefully, “Like you don’t already have a plan? I know you. I know you do.”
“Okay, maybe,” Brian admitted, “But I need a favor first.”
You sighed and started your dismount from his lap, making your way to your knees. Brian started to laugh as he pulled you back up, “No, no, not a blow job. I’m hungry. I never really ate. Will you make me a sandwich?”
You looked at the clock on his wall, “You want a sandwich with actual bread after nine p.m.?”
“Roast beef and cheese?” Brian asked.
“Is this a joke or for real?” you asked because you really weren’t sure.
“Real, and could you grill it?”
You were convinced, although you briefly considered putting your ear to his stomach to see if it was growling, but you didn’t because that would probably end up in a blow job as well. “Okay, sure. Now, I’m hungry, too. I’ll just make a snack for all of us. Can I film you eating this for our tIme capsule?”
“Ha, ha. No, but thank you,” he pulled you close and bumped your nose with his, “You made me so proud tonight.”
“Aw, I think the real you is still at work and this is a doppelgänger, but I’ll play along. Where do you want to eat?”
Brian thought for a moment before he answered, “In the theater. Let’s find out what Dill wants to eat and then he and I are going to have a little meeting while you cook.”
***********
BRIAN’S POV
You had now spent enough time with Dill to begin to understand his psyche a little better, and you decided that the worst thing you could do to Dill (thus far) was to give him too much of a mental lead on a metaphorical leash. He needed to be more tightly controlled for his own mental health, at least in these first few encounters. As you stood in your kitchen watching Justin pull meat and cheese out of the fridge, you texted your basement dweller:
Hey, come up. Snack break. Robe for you in 3rd dresser drawer.
The response you got back came quickly:
Yes, Sir.
You turned towards Justin who was laying out your bread options. You pointed to the one you wanted, “That one. Find out what he wants, and then send him to me in the theater.”
“Okay. Be careful with him please,” he requested.
“I will. Also, I want a pickle, but no chips.”
“Okay. Just seeing you willing to eat anything this late is kind of turning me on,” Justin admitted.
You winked at him, “And will you burn it a little, the way I like?”
“Damn it, Brian! I just came in my pants.”
“Well, that’s what you get for wearing pants, isn’t it?” you offered as you laughed at your blond chef and pointed at the sound coming from the basement door, “Here he comes,” before walking out of the room.
……
You leaned against a dark paneled wall, out of sight, and listened to their conversation. When asked what meat he wanted, Dill answered, “Ham, please.” He seemed very enthused about a sandwich. You overheard Justin, “Brian’s in the theater. You can go hang out with him while I make these.”
“I’m happy to stay and help,” Dill offered.
Justin played it exactly right, “I’m good. He said he wants to see you. Hand me that frying pan over your head.”
“This one?”
“The bigger one next to it.”
“Here you go.” And then seconds of silence until Dill asked Justin, “Am I in trouble with him?”
“I don’t think so. Did you disobey him?” Justin asked, intentionally leaving any foreboding tone out of his voice. A mischievous smile crept up the sides of your face.
“No,” Dill defended.
“Well, then, I’m sure there’s nothing to be concerned about. Do you want a pickle with your sandwich?”
“Uh, sure…guess I’ll go see him.”
“Okay, it’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” (That scheduling message was for you. Justin knew you were listening.)
You made quick and quiet steps to the theater and sat down before Dill had left the kitchen. As you heard him approaching, you texted Justin with instructions:
Cut all of his food into 1” bites. Bring water, closed cup, straw.
Justin responded with a thumbs up.
***********
Dill appeared in the wide theater doorway in the dark gray robe you’d given him. “Hello, Sir.”
“Hey, come here,” you motioned.
As he stood in front of you, you leaned forward with your elbows on your knees. He was sufficiently nervous, just as you wanted him to be. You untied his robe, pleased that he hadn’t put anything on underneath it. You wrapped your hand around his half-hard cock and squeezed, your gaze moving up his body to his face before you asked, “So, did you take care of him as I instructed?”
“Yes, Sir.” You could tell he wasn’t being completely honest, but that was okay because you needed time with all sides of this kid. His cock wasn’t responding to your touch either.
“Good. Take this off,” you instructed, letting his robe fall off of his slim shoulders. He stepped out of the fabric pooling at his feet and laid his robe on a different section of the sofa before resuming his position in front of you. You pointed to a spot a little further away from you and to the left, “Kneel down and keep your legs open.” Dill complied, immediately staring at the floor when you got up. You opened an ottoman near you and removed four leather cuffs connected by a few feet of chain. Speaking only a few words, “Lace your hands behind your head,” you applied the cuffs to his ankles and wrists and connected them with just under three feet of chain running down his back. He didn’t have to keep his hands in the requested position, but he didn’t really have enough slack to position them any other way unless he just let them rest on his shoulders. He was too nervous to do that. You sat down in front of him again, this time with your face closer to his, “I know everything that happened down there, so I’m going to ask you again, did you take care of him as I instructed you to?”
“I tried to, Sir.”
“What does that mean?”
Dill’s voice was delightfully shaky, “He wanted me to fuck him, Sir, so I did.”
“Okay….”
“But you didn’t say that I should do that, so I hope I didn’t-“
“He asked you to?” you clarified.
“Yes, he said he wanted to do it...again.”
You had to keep yourself from cracking a smile, “If Justin asks you to do something, you should do it, and he shouldn’t have to convince you.”
“Well, I considered that as well; my reasoning was a little tardy, I guess.”
“If that happens again, if he needs something from you and you find yourself conflicted, your conflict will be with me. Understood?” A few patches of red flared on his neck and chest at your insistence.
“Yes, Sir.”
You stood up and unzipped your jeans, and pulled your cock out, nice and hard thanks to his trepidation. Sitting back down, you pulled Dill’s face in and stuffed your cock in his mouth as far as you could, causing him to gag. You held him there firmly, making sure he couldn’t breathe, only letting go when his body began to jerk. “What did you taste?” you asked him as he coughed and recovered,
his elbows still butterflied out beside his head. Spittle ran down his chin. “Your cock...Sir.”
You grabbed him again, this time more roughly, smashing his face into your crotch a second time. His body twisted beneath the pressure, resisting you when he could no longer breathe. You yanked him off again causing copious amounts of drool to drop on his chest. You asked him again, “Try again. What do you taste?”
Dill shook his head in despair, refusing to make eye contact with you as he whispered, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
You pulled him up a little so you could be almost face to face with him, his wet chin propped up by your hand, “What you’re tasting is Justin’s freshly spanked ass that I fucked before leaving him with you. You need to memorize that taste and get used to it because that flavor is your foreseeable future. And you better appreciate the fact that you get to fuck it at all. Are we clear?”
“Absolutely, Sir.”
“Good.”
You knew Justin was waiting on the other side of the wall; you could see part of his foot. You put your cock away and greeted him as he came in with three plates. He remained nonplussed about Dill’s current predicament as if he wasn’t naked and bound on the floor and set his plate in front of him on the ottoman. “Here you go, grilled cheddar cheese and ham.” You studied Dill’s face as he processed the tiny bites his sandwich was reduced to. Justin had even cut up a pickle spear to match. He handed you the two other plates and left to get the beverages. You spoke to Dill as you used your foot to push the ottoman closer to him, the corner wedged between his knees, “You eat, swallow, and say, ‘Thank you,’ after every piece. We’ll give you water when you need it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
You nodded your head, encouraging him to start. Using his teeth, he pulled the plate closer and took the first piece as Justin returned. He chewed, swallowed and then said, “Thank you, Sir,” a series he would then repeat over twenty times in the background as you and Justin tackled your sandwiches. You talked about the state of tomorrow’s presentation with Justin while two feet away Dill worked methodically. Justin’s body turned sideways so he could cross his legs as he talked with you; he steadfastly ignored Dill except when you asked him to offer him water. Dill accepted each time, and Justin was exceedingly polite. He knew his behavior mattered, too.
“Do either of you want another sandwich?” Justin asked, and you shook your head, “He’s had enough and I’m full. That was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I like to cook for you.”
You pointed at Dill, “He needs his face cleaned; be right back.” You got up and gathered all the empty plates and then headed for the kitchen, returning with a wet paper towel and wiping Dill’s face clean with the same amount of affection one offers a countertop. Then, leaving Dill’s cuffs on his wrists and ankles, you removed the chain and ring holding them in position. “Stand up and stretch,” you instructed him. As he stood, Justin moved towards your end of the sofa to give Dill room after shaking out his limbs.
“Are you okay?” he asked Dill, an intimate tone in his voice as his reprimanded fuck toy sat down beside him. Dill nodded and seemed a bit relieved that Justin was welcoming him back from the floor. You sat down next to Justin, your arm behind him on the sofa and just watched their reconnection. In about a minute, Dill’s head was in Justin’s lap and his body was covered with a burgundy blanket pulled from a neighboring sofa section. Justin stroked Dill’s hair as he spoke to him, “Everything okay with your mom?”
Dill nodded, “Yes, everything’s fine.”
Justin smiled down at him, “Good. Watching your obedience, fuck, that makes me really hard.” He pressed Dill’s cheek against his cock still inside his cotton pants.
“I’m glad; I want to please you, Sir,” Dill said, “And I’m sorry about-“
Justin shook his head, “It’s over and dealt with-“
You interrupted, “Well, almost. The behavior has been identified and corrected, but there’s still reinforcement to be done.”
Justin turned and looked at you, evaluating your resolve. Once convinced it was inevitable, he reassured Dill, “Just do what you’re told, okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Justin looked back at you, waiting for your instructions which he received after you kissed him rather passionately. You indicated that he needed to stand up for a second so Dill could lie all the way down. Turning your attention to Justin, you tugged on his pajama pants, pulling them down and taking Justin’s hand so he could step out of them. Then you made clear what you wanted of your husband, “Be a good boy and sit on his face. He needs to spend some quality time tasting who he belongs to.”
You helped a smiling Justin straddle Dill’s head and find a comfortable position from which he could ride his face. Then you twined your fingers in Dill’s hair and yanked to get his attention, his eyes opening wide, “This will be the best ass you’ve ever eaten, so you better bring your A game.”
Dill’s affirmative answer was muffled which made it all the more perfect. You turned sideways to face Justin, “You deserve this pleasure after that spanking you took.” He moaned intensely, draping his arms around your shoulders as Dill pleasured him. Justin pressed his forehead against your collar bone and begged you, “Stroke me. You touched his cock, letting it slide in your grasp and, every so often, you had Justin grind to a halt and, “Smother him,” as you pinched Dill’s nose. Each time Dill struggled, you counted to five in your head and then let him breathe again. Dill said, “Thank you,” each time on his own accord.
Progress.
Negotiations 43
Go back to Negotiations 41 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 42
DILL’S POV
forty minutes later
Justin awoke by launching a sneeze against your chest. You immediately stopped the game you were playing on your phone, “Bless you! And hello.”
He looked around confused, “Where’s Brian? I think your chest hair was tickling my nose.”
“Um, he said to tell you that he’s, ‘On his Slack channel riding some asses,’ for about an hour. He said you’d know what that means.”
Justin yawned, stretching one arm up, “Yeah. How long ago was that?”
“About twenty minutes. He also said that I should offer you a snack and make sure you drink something...like water. He specifically said no wine.”
Justin laughed a little before his lips formed a sweet smile, “Aw, he told you to take care of me.”
You nodded, “Yes. He gave you to me, covered you up, dimmed the lights and gave me lots of instructions.” You didn’t tell Justin that there had been so many that, when Brian left the room, you’d immediately logged them on your Notes app:
keep warm
morphine-like brain will come down
temp drop
BP drop
lightheaded
snacks
if upset or pain, text asap
Justin’s body elongated again, both arms this time, before he spoke, “Mmm. That’s sweet. I can’t believe I slept that hard.”
You blurted out the rest unsolicited, talking faster than you could modulate, “Well, Brian said you burnt up all your adrenaline being excited about today the way a kid does before his birthday party. You were drooling on him, you were so asleep.”
Justin rolled his eyes as he rolled onto his back, “Wow. He did, huh? C’mere. I wanna feel you.” He tugged on your arm, pulling you until you laid on top of him. His skin was still ridiculously warm and smooth. He touched your cheek with his fingertips and then kissed you. He ran his hand down your back and pressed down, “Stop resisting. Put your full weight on me. I said I want to feel you.”
You confessed as you tried to let yourself relax, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re little freaked out about what we did?” Justin asked quietly as he kissed your chin.
You were honest, “I mean, I’ve never seen somebody take that much pain and not seem to feel it. That was fucking intense.”
“I feel it; I just get to a point where my brain no longer processes it as pain. I feel pleasure instead.”
“You were almost crying-“
“I’m okay. That was just a release.”
“If you say so.”
Justin sighed, “Listen, Brian knows what he’s doing. He brought me to that point gradually and carefully, and above all, purposefully. He took me where I wanted to go. Was it the mirror that freaked you out? Being able to see it up close?”
“I’m not freaked out. I’m just kind of…. I mean, I didn’t know what was going to happen and all, but to see that you took all that for me-“
“Rest assured that you’re worth it, and that I’m very used to it,” Justin emphasized in a way that gave you a squishy warm rush for a few seconds.
”Thank you. I mean, clearly, that wasn’t your first rodeo or his. That was very obvious.” And then you remembered, “Brian, does he smoke?”
Justin stopped, his head cocked, “Why are you asking me that? Did he light up when I was asleep?”
“No, no, because he kissed me, and I think I tasted it.”
Justin looked relieved, “He does, supposedly never more than two a day, and he would be mortified that you could tell, so please don’t say anything to him.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Justin added, “You got to fuck me. Didn’t you like that?” Before you could form an answer, he was kissing you again, letting you know that conversation was stalling out. Minutes passed before you could respond, “Like it? I’ve never felt anything like that-“
“Good, let’s do it again,” Justin offered.
“Again? Aren’t you-?”
“I’m fine. Get a condom.”
You opened the drawer he was pointing to and retrieved one, “I feel like I should be more careful than this. Are you sure?”
“Okay, I’m going to give you my rationale for this in the form of a math problem. You’re a stats major, you can handle it,” Justin proposed.
“Okay.”
“Two part math problem. Part one: how old are you?”
You answered, “Twenty-two.”
“Excellent. Part two: You are twenty-two, therefore, how old is your cock?”
“Uh- twenty-two?”
“Bingo. You have a cock in its mid-twenties. I have an ass that would like to give a cock in that particular demo a temporary parking space...right now.”
You blurted out the truth, “Justin, I don’t know if I’m...allowed to-“
Justin’s body stiffened as he stopped administering affection, his hand firmly wrapped around your shoulder, “Excuse me?”
He did not look happy. You tried, “I’m sorry. I really am. I just-“
“Brian terrifies you, doesn’t he?” he asked rhetorically, but you nodded anyway as you continued your info dump, “I mean, he gave me all these instructions about keeping you warm because your body temp would drop and not to let you stand up too fast, but he didn’t say anything about fucking you again...Sir.”
Justin looked from side to side, licked his lips, closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them and responded, “Okay, listen to me. Eventually, Brian will make his way back down here, and when he does, I can either tell him you took good care of me or that you don’t know how to follow simple instructions. Which narrative do you want me to go with?”
“Justin-“
“Sir.”
“I mean, Sir-“
“Which one do you want? It’s your choice.”
“The first one.”
“Good boy. Put it on.”
You did. You fucked him again, and just as you were getting your groove calibrated, Justin wrapped his legs around your waist and squeezed you like a drug store blood pressure machine. You felt a tingle as all the blood left your toes. You stopped thrusting, “It hurts?” you asked.
He grinned and shook his head, “No, I’m not a china doll. I want to talk about you.”
“What about me? Am I doing it in a way you don’t like?”
“No, that’s impossible,” he laughed a little, “There’s no way you could fuck me that I wouldn’t like. Trust me-.” You started to respond and were discouraged; Justin pressed his index finger to your lips, “Shhhhh. You’re not in charge here, so just listen, got it?” You nodded. “Good. Now, as I said before, Brian will make his way back down here, and before that happens, I need to know what you want tonight.”
“Okay.”
Justin pointed to the exam table, “See that paper on that table?”
“Yes.”
“That’s new. He bought that just for you. I guarantee you that he’s ready to give you an experience on that table. Is that what you want tonight? You don’t have to, but I know him well enough to know how he thinks. He’s probably bought other things I don’t even know about. I need to know more about this medical kink you have, what direction it leads, okay?”
The subject made you uncomfortable which you tried to hide at first, “Okay.”
“Great. For instance, I’m assuming we can rule out a fetish for a pretend appendectomy or heart transplant?” You laughed, and Justin smiled, “There’s the Dill I know. Come down from your anxiety attic.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“No need to be sorry. Just talk to me.”
“Okay.”
“So ruling out those things and moving on; is this a blood fetish? Is this about needles and blades and bloodletting?”
You shook your head vigorously. Justin continued, “Okay, crossing that off. This is about playing doctor then?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Enemas?” he asked.
“Maybe, not tonight,” you clarified.
“Because you did that earlier today?”
“Yes,” you admitted, sufficiently blushing.
“So an examination would be fun?” Justin continued to probe. You couldn’t answer him; your throat constricted, so you just buried your face over his shoulder in a pillow you’d never appreciated more. He soothed you, his hands rubbing your back, “Okay, it’s okay. I understand.” It’s one thing (apparently) to text with strange men about these particulars, but face to face with him…completely different. You grunted in frustration at your own hesitation, and somehow he completely knew what you meant, “Dill, it’s okay. We want to give you what you want, but there’s no rush at all. I promise.” The amount of heat coming off your face legitimately should’ve set the pillow on fire. Justin kept at it, “We don’t even have to stay down here if it’s too overwhelming. We can go upstairs and watch a movie, order a pizza. Whatever you want.” Granted, a pizza sounded really good, but not as good as your other opportunities were at that moment. “Can you look at me?” Justin tried. You lifted your head fearing that he might not recognize you in what felt like a raw exposed state. “Are you green, yellow or red?” Justin asked you.
You took a deep breath and really considered his question, “Green, Sir.”
“Are you sure? You have to be honest with me about this.”
“I’m green, Sir. I don’t want tonight to end.”
“It doesn’t have to end regardless of color. We can adapt.”
“Light green.” Justin kept staring at you, waiting, you supposed, for the truth, so you tried again, “Sort of like an unripe banana….”
He smiled, “Okay, thank you. How about this? We finish fucking and just take a break. It’ll give you time to collect your thoughts,” Justin suggested.
“Okay. But I feel bad like I’m derailing this whole thing-.“
“Dill, you have to give yourself permission to feel what you feel. I don’t ever want you to be uncomfortable. That would hurt me, and it would upset Brian. Honesty doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Okay,” you said with too much skepticism in your voice.
“You have to trust me. If you don’t think you can, then we need to go back a few steps.”
“I trust you. Of course, I do,” you clarified because you did.
“Good, can you come?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“Then fuck me; I like having you inside me.” Once you put your mind to it, it didn’t take long at all. And fuck, hearing him moan underneath you was like the fucking Fourth of July.
…
Justin put on his pajamas as you were looking at your phone, “Oh fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My mom has called and texted a bunch. Shit. It’s probably nothing. We’re just close.”
“Okay, I’m going up to check on Brian. You call her back, and then, either wait here or get a snack in the kitchen. Whatever you want. You can text me.” He waived his phone back and forth.
“Okay, sorry about this,” you expressed.
“Dill, sorry is bullshit. It’s not necessary. See you in a minute.” Justin gave you a sweet kiss from his perch on the side of the bed, started to get up and then sat back down, his hand on your chest, “Also, I like the way you fuck me. You should know that you have a more than satisfactory cock.”
All you could think was that he’s used to Brian’s cock, so…
Wow.
***********
JUSTIN’S POV
You took both flights of stairs slowly and deliberately; your bare feet making no noise in the process. As you got closer to Brian’s office, you could hear the deep tones in his voice through the walls. Worried that he might be on Zoom, you texted him and then tapped lightly on th door.
“Come in,” you eventually heard. As you entered the room, Brian was turning off his monitor. “Hey, perfect timing, I’m all done.”
You walked in, “Good evening, Professor.”
Brian looked confused as he extended his hand to you, “Come again?”
“That education you gave to Dill? You crammed too much into one class,” you explained as Brian welcomed you onto his lap. Concern covered his face, “Why, what’s wrong?”
“You should’ve stayed or woken me up before you left. That was a lot for him to process alone.”
“Oh shit. You mad at me?” he asked.
“No, I’m not mad. Just don’t do that again while this is new. He gets caught up in his own head, and he’s sort of terrified of you.”
Brian grinned a tad too evilly, “Yeah, I noticed that.”
“And you’re getting off on it, too,” you pointed out.
Brian brought his index finger and thumb close together to indicate, “Just a smidge.”
“You’re incorrigible sometimes.”
“I know, but how’s your ass?” Brian inquired.
“Sublime, as always.” He hugged you tightly and kissed your neck. “You were almost perfect,” Brian added, “Behavior-wise.” You rolled your eyes; you were more than perfect. And then he leaned in and turned his monitor back on, exposing his view of the dungeon in a lower right window. He maximized it and you both saw Dill halfway under the covers and texting. “He looks okay to me,” Brian said.
“So you were watching us the whole time?” you asked.
“Well,” Brian conceded, “I tried, but I couldn’t concentrate on my work so I had to stop.”
You punched his bicep, “Good, serves you right for leaving me.”
“I had to do this. This presentation has to go flawlessly.”
“So does tonight,” you reminded him as you explained your brief conflict with Dill and how you resolved it. You ended with, “I even color checked him. He’s a quote ‘unripe banana,’ so I suggested we take a break.”
Brian had, in his own best interest, listened to your every word and came to the conclusion you wanted, “You’re right; tonight has to go perfectly. So what do we do next?”
You studied Brian’s face carefully, “Like you don’t already have a plan? I know you. I know you do.”
“Okay, maybe,” Brian admitted, “But I need a favor first.”
You sighed and started your dismount from his lap, making your way to your knees. Brian started to laugh as he pulled you back up, “No, no, not a blow job. I’m hungry. I never really ate. Will you make me a sandwich?”
You looked at the clock on his wall, “You want a sandwich with actual bread after nine p.m.?”
“Roast beef and cheese?” Brian asked.
“Is this a joke or for real?” you asked because you really weren’t sure.
“Real, and could you grill it?”
You were convinced, although you briefly considered putting your ear to his stomach to see if it was growling, but you didn’t because that would probably end up in a blow job as well. “Okay, sure. Now, I’m hungry, too. I’ll just make a snack for all of us. Can I film you eating this for our tIme capsule?”
“Ha, ha. No, but thank you,” he pulled you close and bumped your nose with his, “You made me so proud tonight.”
“Aw, I think the real you is still at work and this is a doppelgänger, but I’ll play along. Where do you want to eat?”
Brian thought for a moment before he answered, “In the theater. Let’s find out what Dill wants to eat and then he and I are going to have a little meeting while you cook.”
***********
BRIAN’S POV
You had now spent enough time with Dill to begin to understand his psyche a little better, and you decided that the worst thing you could do to Dill (thus far) was to give him too much of a mental lead on a metaphorical leash. He needed to be more tightly controlled for his own mental health, at least in these first few encounters. As you stood in your kitchen watching Justin pull meat and cheese out of the fridge, you texted your basement dweller:
Hey, come up. Snack break. Robe for you in 3rd dresser drawer.
The response you got back came quickly:
Yes, Sir.
You turned towards Justin who was laying out your bread options. You pointed to the one you wanted, “That one. Find out what he wants, and then send him to me in the theater.”
“Okay. Be careful with him please,” he requested.
“I will. Also, I want a pickle, but no chips.”
“Okay. Just seeing you willing to eat anything this late is kind of turning me on,” Justin admitted.
You winked at him, “And will you burn it a little, the way I like?”
“Damn it, Brian! I just came in my pants.”
“Well, that’s what you get for wearing pants, isn’t it?” you offered as you laughed at your blond chef and pointed at the sound coming from the basement door, “Here he comes,” before walking out of the room.
……
You leaned against a dark paneled wall, out of sight, and listened to their conversation. When asked what meat he wanted, Dill answered, “Ham, please.” He seemed very enthused about a sandwich. You overheard Justin, “Brian’s in the theater. You can go hang out with him while I make these.”
“I’m happy to stay and help,” Dill offered.
Justin played it exactly right, “I’m good. He said he wants to see you. Hand me that frying pan over your head.”
“This one?”
“The bigger one next to it.”
“Here you go.” And then seconds of silence until Dill asked Justin, “Am I in trouble with him?”
“I don’t think so. Did you disobey him?” Justin asked, intentionally leaving any foreboding tone out of his voice. A mischievous smile crept up the sides of your face.
“No,” Dill defended.
“Well, then, I’m sure there’s nothing to be concerned about. Do you want a pickle with your sandwich?”
“Uh, sure…guess I’ll go see him.”
“Okay, it’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” (That scheduling message was for you. Justin knew you were listening.)
You made quick and quiet steps to the theater and sat down before Dill had left the kitchen. As you heard him approaching, you texted Justin with instructions:
Cut all of his food into 1” bites. Bring water, closed cup, straw.
Justin responded with a thumbs up.
***********
Dill appeared in the wide theater doorway in the dark gray robe you’d given him. “Hello, Sir.”
“Hey, come here,” you motioned.
As he stood in front of you, you leaned forward with your elbows on your knees. He was sufficiently nervous, just as you wanted him to be. You untied his robe, pleased that he hadn’t put anything on underneath it. You wrapped your hand around his half-hard cock and squeezed, your gaze moving up his body to his face before you asked, “So, did you take care of him as I instructed?”
“Yes, Sir.” You could tell he wasn’t being completely honest, but that was okay because you needed time with all sides of this kid. His cock wasn’t responding to your touch either.
“Good. Take this off,” you instructed, letting his robe fall off of his slim shoulders. He stepped out of the fabric pooling at his feet and laid his robe on a different section of the sofa before resuming his position in front of you. You pointed to a spot a little further away from you and to the left, “Kneel down and keep your legs open.” Dill complied, immediately staring at the floor when you got up. You opened an ottoman near you and removed four leather cuffs connected by a few feet of chain. Speaking only a few words, “Lace your hands behind your head,” you applied the cuffs to his ankles and wrists and connected them with just under three feet of chain running down his back. He didn’t have to keep his hands in the requested position, but he didn’t really have enough slack to position them any other way unless he just let them rest on his shoulders. He was too nervous to do that. You sat down in front of him again, this time with your face closer to his, “I know everything that happened down there, so I’m going to ask you again, did you take care of him as I instructed you to?”
“I tried to, Sir.”
“What does that mean?”
Dill’s voice was delightfully shaky, “He wanted me to fuck him, Sir, so I did.”
“Okay….”
“But you didn’t say that I should do that, so I hope I didn’t-“
“He asked you to?” you clarified.
“Yes, he said he wanted to do it...again.”
You had to keep yourself from cracking a smile, “If Justin asks you to do something, you should do it, and he shouldn’t have to convince you.”
“Well, I considered that as well; my reasoning was a little tardy, I guess.”
“If that happens again, if he needs something from you and you find yourself conflicted, your conflict will be with me. Understood?” A few patches of red flared on his neck and chest at your insistence.
“Yes, Sir.”
You stood up and unzipped your jeans, and pulled your cock out, nice and hard thanks to his trepidation. Sitting back down, you pulled Dill’s face in and stuffed your cock in his mouth as far as you could, causing him to gag. You held him there firmly, making sure he couldn’t breathe, only letting go when his body began to jerk. “What did you taste?” you asked him as he coughed and recovered,
his elbows still butterflied out beside his head. Spittle ran down his chin. “Your cock...Sir.”
You grabbed him again, this time more roughly, smashing his face into your crotch a second time. His body twisted beneath the pressure, resisting you when he could no longer breathe. You yanked him off again causing copious amounts of drool to drop on his chest. You asked him again, “Try again. What do you taste?”
Dill shook his head in despair, refusing to make eye contact with you as he whispered, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
You pulled him up a little so you could be almost face to face with him, his wet chin propped up by your hand, “What you’re tasting is Justin’s freshly spanked ass that I fucked before leaving him with you. You need to memorize that taste and get used to it because that flavor is your foreseeable future. And you better appreciate the fact that you get to fuck it at all. Are we clear?”
“Absolutely, Sir.”
“Good.”
You knew Justin was waiting on the other side of the wall; you could see part of his foot. You put your cock away and greeted him as he came in with three plates. He remained nonplussed about Dill’s current predicament as if he wasn’t naked and bound on the floor and set his plate in front of him on the ottoman. “Here you go, grilled cheddar cheese and ham.” You studied Dill’s face as he processed the tiny bites his sandwich was reduced to. Justin had even cut up a pickle spear to match. He handed you the two other plates and left to get the beverages. You spoke to Dill as you used your foot to push the ottoman closer to him, the corner wedged between his knees, “You eat, swallow, and say, ‘Thank you,’ after every piece. We’ll give you water when you need it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
You nodded your head, encouraging him to start. Using his teeth, he pulled the plate closer and took the first piece as Justin returned. He chewed, swallowed and then said, “Thank you, Sir,” a series he would then repeat over twenty times in the background as you and Justin tackled your sandwiches. You talked about the state of tomorrow’s presentation with Justin while two feet away Dill worked methodically. Justin’s body turned sideways so he could cross his legs as he talked with you; he steadfastly ignored Dill except when you asked him to offer him water. Dill accepted each time, and Justin was exceedingly polite. He knew his behavior mattered, too.
“Do either of you want another sandwich?” Justin asked, and you shook your head, “He’s had enough and I’m full. That was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I like to cook for you.”
You pointed at Dill, “He needs his face cleaned; be right back.” You got up and gathered all the empty plates and then headed for the kitchen, returning with a wet paper towel and wiping Dill’s face clean with the same amount of affection one offers a countertop. Then, leaving Dill’s cuffs on his wrists and ankles, you removed the chain and ring holding them in position. “Stand up and stretch,” you instructed him. As he stood, Justin moved towards your end of the sofa to give Dill room after shaking out his limbs.
“Are you okay?” he asked Dill, an intimate tone in his voice as his reprimanded fuck toy sat down beside him. Dill nodded and seemed a bit relieved that Justin was welcoming him back from the floor. You sat down next to Justin, your arm behind him on the sofa and just watched their reconnection. In about a minute, Dill’s head was in Justin’s lap and his body was covered with a burgundy blanket pulled from a neighboring sofa section. Justin stroked Dill’s hair as he spoke to him, “Everything okay with your mom?”
Dill nodded, “Yes, everything’s fine.”
Justin smiled down at him, “Good. Watching your obedience, fuck, that makes me really hard.” He pressed Dill’s cheek against his cock still inside his cotton pants.
“I’m glad; I want to please you, Sir,” Dill said, “And I’m sorry about-“
Justin shook his head, “It’s over and dealt with-“
You interrupted, “Well, almost. The behavior has been identified and corrected, but there’s still reinforcement to be done.”
Justin turned and looked at you, evaluating your resolve. Once convinced it was inevitable, he reassured Dill, “Just do what you’re told, okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Justin looked back at you, waiting for your instructions which he received after you kissed him rather passionately. You indicated that he needed to stand up for a second so Dill could lie all the way down. Turning your attention to Justin, you tugged on his pajama pants, pulling them down and taking Justin’s hand so he could step out of them. Then you made clear what you wanted of your husband, “Be a good boy and sit on his face. He needs to spend some quality time tasting who he belongs to.”
You helped a smiling Justin straddle Dill’s head and find a comfortable position from which he could ride his face. Then you twined your fingers in Dill’s hair and yanked to get his attention, his eyes opening wide, “This will be the best ass you’ve ever eaten, so you better bring your A game.”
Dill’s affirmative answer was muffled which made it all the more perfect. You turned sideways to face Justin, “You deserve this pleasure after that spanking you took.” He moaned intensely, draping his arms around your shoulders as Dill pleasured him. Justin pressed his forehead against your collar bone and begged you, “Stroke me. You touched his cock, letting it slide in your grasp and, every so often, you had Justin grind to a halt and, “Smother him,” as you pinched Dill’s nose. Each time Dill struggled, you counted to five in your head and then let him breathe again. Dill said, “Thank you,” each time on his own accord.
Progress.
Negotiations 43