[identity profile] kat-lair.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] unmarked_place

Title: Redress
Author: Mistress Kat / [livejournal.com profile] kat_lair
Fandom: Bandom, [livejournal.com profile] unmarked_place ‘verse
Pairing: Patrick/Pete
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,820
Warnings/enticements: BDSM, spanking, anal play, dirty talk, see Community Introduction Post for more info
Disclaimer: See Community Introduction Post

Summary: It had been three days since he’d last spanked Pete and this was long overdue.

Author notes: Originally written for and posted in my Porn Meme. Now tidied and beta-read thanks to [livejournal.com profile] margaret_r.

“Get your clothes off,” Patrick said. He kept his voice quiet and calm because that’s what Pete needed from him right now, and didn’t even look over when he heard the soft stuttery sigh that signalled both relief and apprehension.

It had been three days since he’d last spanked Pete and this was long overdue. But Patrick had been so busy with the club business and whenever he’d been home Pete had not; busy himself with his job.  They’d mostly just ended up falling asleep, tangled together, too tired for anything but kissing and maybe a sleepy handjob.

It was no wonder then that the first day they had for themselves Pete had been jittering and bouncing off the walls, alternating between irritating and clingy. Patrick had hoped for a quiet day but it was not going to happen until he took care of this. And, to be honest, the ‘this’ included himself as well as Pete. He was better at hiding it, but the itch had been building under his skin as well and he knew he’d been snappy and short-tempered. Probably why Bob had told him to ‘take some time off before your bite someone’s head off’ yesterday, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Patrick closed his laptop with small efficient movements, all the while listening to the rustle of clothes and then the small thump of Pete’s knees hitting the floor. He waited for another few seconds before getting up, still not looking over though and instead crossing the lounge to the kitchen.

In there, Patrick got himself a glass of ice-water, drank it, and filled a bottle for Pete for later. He also took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths himself, rolling his head to work out some of the kinks. He considered getting a paddle, because they were in this for the long haul and guaranteed Patrick’s hand would be hurting as much as Pete’s ass at the end of it. But no, he wanted to feel Pete’s skin under his palm, didn’t want even the distance a toy would bring into the act.

Back in the lounge, Patrick sat down in the middle of the couch and finally let himself look.

As expected, Pete was kneeling in the middle of the room, naked except for his collar, the sight of which still sent a thrill of possessiveness through Patrick – a feeling he was sure would never diminish.

Pete looked gorgeous, sweating slightly despite the cool air, eyes lowered, hands crossed behind his back, his cock half-hard. For a long while, Patrick just stared at him, lazily rubbing a hand over the front of his jeans, getting hard just at the sight of his sub.

Pete was trying hard not to fidget, small tremors running through his body every now and then. Patrick could prolong this, but he didn’t want to, eager to get his hands on Pete. “Come here,” he said, voice low and commanding.

Pete crawled, quick and graceful, before settling back on his knees in front of Patrick who had spread his legs to accommodate him. His eyes dropped to Patrick’s crotch and he licked his lips, the slightly glassy look coming over his eyes. It was not difficult to guess what he wanted.

Patrick asked anyway. “What do you want, Pete?”

“You,” Pete answered straightaway. “Anything, just...” He shifted a little, muscles twitching. “Please, just touch me, hurt me, let me suck you off, anything. Please, Patrick, I...”

“Over my knee,” Patrick interrupted him.

Pete scrambled to obey, climbing onto the sofa and positioning himself over Patrick’s lap, his hands gripping the edge of the sofa pillow.

“Good boy,” Patrick said. Wryly, he noticed his own hands shaking slightly as he finally let himself touch Pete, running his hands over all that tanned skin spread out to him like a gift.

The noise Pete made was somewhere between sigh and whimper and went straight to Patrick’s cock. He knew Pete could feel him growing hard under him, knew it from the way he ground down, hips pressing closer.

“Stay still,” Patrick said. “You’ll get my cock if you’re good and do as you’re told.” He ran his fingers over the swell of Pete’s ass, lightly ghosting over his cleft. “Is this where you want it, hmm? In your ass?”

Pete moaned, spreading his legs and much as he could.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still?” Patrick asked, slapping his hand down hard on Pete’s ass. “You want me to fuck you, you keep your head down and your ass up and don’t move. I’ve got a mind to make this,” he smacked Pete’s ass again, “all nice and warm for me first, so when I press my cock here,” he spread Pete’s cheeks and rubbed his index finger over his hole, only briefly but enough to make Pete gasp and go tense with the effort not to move, “it’ll be all red for me.”

God, he almost wanted to just throw Pete over the sofa right now and push in, but it would be so much better, for both of them, if he did what he’d set out to do first. Patrick laid his left hand over the back of Pete’s neck, not pressing down, just keeping him anchored, and then brought his right hand down hard on his ass.

He didn’t hold back, didn’t take time to warm up Pete with any light slaps or teasing. Instead he laid into him steady and hard, covering the backs of his thighs and his rounded ass with increasingly pink handprints. This spanking was meant to hurt, Pete needed it to hurt, needed the reminder of who he belonged to, who he’d given the right to use his body for their mutual pleasure.

It wasn’t long until Pete was gasping out loud, then crying, body growing first tense before finally going boneless over Patrick’s lap. The skin of his ass was hot and red as Patrick had promised, the sting of flesh-on-flesh keeping them both in the moment. The repeated motion of the spanking was pushing Pete’s groin against Patrick’s legs and it was not long until Pete was rocking into it, rubbing himself on the rough denim, moaning and hard.

“Look at you,” Patrick said, landing another slap at the junction of Pete’s ass and thigh. “Writhing in my lap like a wanton slut.” He let his finger catch the edge of Pete’s crack on the next slap and Pete pushed back into it, mouth open and panting. “I think you like this. I think you like being over my knee, your ass up in the air and begging to be spanked, begging to be filled too, I bet.”

Sweat was springing up all over Pete’s body now, Patrick’s too, and it made every hit hurt even more, Patrick’s palm as aching and red as Pete’s ass by now. He used his other hand to spread Pete’s ass open, exposing his hole and then spanking lightly over it. “You like that, my little slut?” he asked, pausing finally to rub his fingers over Pete’s overheated skin.

“Yes, please, god, just...” Pete was squirming in his lap, trying to get closer, in blatant violation of the earlier command but Patrick guessed the spanking part of the scene was now over and he rather liked the way Pete’s movements pressed against his own dick.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Pete answered without hesitation. His voice was ragged and the way he was hitching his ass up, seeking contact, spoke of desperation. “I need to feel you, please.”

“Oh I will,” Patrick promised. “I’ll fuck you right over this sofa and then on the floor and then... well, wherever I feel like it, isn’t that right? Because you’re mine to use, hmm?”

Pete moaned in agreement, turning his face into Patrick’s legs, nodding. “Yes, yours, please, Sir.”

God, the ‘Sir’ never failed to make Patrick feel ten feet tall, like he could do anything because Pete trusted him to take care of him. “Yeah,” he said, voice catching. “Mine.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down, before using both hands to spread Pete open. “Mine to look.” He briefly wet a finger in his mouth before rubbing it over Pete’s asshole, circling it in slow maddening movements. “Mine to touch.”

The sound Pete made when Patrick pushed his finger inside was pure filth, his back arched and head thrown back, throat a long line of submission as he took Patrick’s finger all the way to the third knuckle and then begged for more. “Please, please, fuck me, I need more, Sir, please.”

“I’m going to make you come from my fingers first,” Patrick told him. “Like the dirty, desperate, beautiful slut you are, just like this.” He worked another finger inside, Pete spreading his legs and clawing at the sofa cushions. “Yeah, that’s it,” Patrick told him, “fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Pete did, ass clenching tightly, his cock so hard and leaking precome on Patrick’s jeans. “Making a mess, aren’t you? Dirty boy, you’ll have to lick it clean later.” Patrick fed three fingers of his other hand to Pete, giving him something to suck on, relishing the feel of his tongue and wet heat of his mouth.

Speared between Patrick’s fingers in his ass and mouth, it didn’t take long until Pete was begging to come. He couldn’t use words, not with his mouth full, but Patrick could tell from the pitch of his whines, the frantic snap of his hips, that he was getting close. He wouldn’t come without permission though. That had been one of the first rules established, more out of Pete’s request than Patrick’s insistence. God he was hot like this, so close but holding on because he wanted to be good for Patrick, wanted Patrick to have this part of him too. Some nights Patrick would keep him like this for hours, edging him close to an orgasm and then backing off, over and over, until Pete was a shaking, crying mess, nothing but need and devotion and raw nerve-endings.

Not tonight though. Tonight Patrick wanted to see Pete let go. Tonight he planned on making him come as much as he could, certainly more than just this once. “Come on, slut,” he said, twisting his fingers to press against Pete’s prostate. “Come for me.”

Two more thrusts of his hips and Pete was coming, splattering wetly all over his stomach and Patrick’s lap, his ass clenching rhythmically over Patrick’s fingers. Patrick fucked him through it and then kept going even when Pete collapsed down, all his muscles loose, skin shining with sweat.

“That’s a good boy,” Patrick said proudly. “That’s my good boy.” He pulled his fingers out only long enough to spit on his hand before pushing back in with three. “Yeah, I think you’re loose enough for my cock now.”

Pete moaned.

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August 2013


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