Unearthed (The Dungeon Black Duology 1)
Because deep down in the pit of his very being, he craved the act of catching them when they fell just as much. To see them safely down to the ground. To take care of them. Tend to their needs. So that ultimately they’d know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d never abandon them when they needed him. No, not ever when so emotionally vulnerable. When so shattered from such a soul-renting ride. Because a very real part of him, he was coming to realize, needed to help piece them back together.
Greg’s strong warm fingers moved up and down Max’s shaft till that pressure in Max’s balls started reeling. He didn’t mind Greg’s touch, if he didn’t think too much about it. After all, the guy was irrefutably hot. Tall and dark, with lots of dense muscle. Maybe ten years Max’s senior, scruffy. Somewhat reserved. With lots of chest hair behind that leather vest that went great with his warm-daddy smile. Nope, he definitely didn’t repel Max with his looks. In another place and time, in another dimension, Max would probably love to jump the guy’s bones. Unfortunately, Max had way too much garbage in his head, making cutting loose with the man not that easy. Or with anyone, for that matter. But fuck, he was trying. Right there in that moment. Focusing all of his attention on Greg’s hand. And the way it was making him really need to come, despite how bad his cheeks were frickin’ burning.
Moaning, he started to rock his hips.
“Nice,” Greg rumbled. “That’s my good boy.” Letting go, he gave Max’s butt plug more taps.
Max moaned even louder.
Greg chuckled low. “Yeah. You like that. ‘Cause I know what I’m doing. So trust me to take you over the edge.”
Back was that paddle two seconds later.
SMACK! SMACK-SMACK!
“Aw, fuck!” Max shouted, heat racing like bullets to his cock.
SMACK-SMACK!
“More, Max?”
“Uh! Yes, please!”
“Yes please, what?” Greg purred. More love to Max’s plug.
Max shuddered, forgetting to answer.
SMACK-SMACK!
“Yes please, Sir!”
“That’s right, little boy.” SMACK-SMACK! “You love this.” SMACK-SMACK! “Now I want you to come.”
Max’s body reeled faster, he could feel his mind slipping… Slipping as Greg drove him ever closer.
SMACK-SMACK!
“Uh, fuck!”
His nut sac lifted.
SMACK-SMACK!
“Let go, Max. Time to fly.”
Paddle strikes took turns with more taps to Max’s plug, rocketing Max straight toward the edge.
“Sh-shit!” he gasped out, eyes rolling back, body shaking. He could feel his mental grip faltering. Could feel the fresh adrenaline. A violent dance as it mixed with endorphins. Bringing him closer—closer—closer—then rifled him into that place like a rocket.
“Yessss…” Greg growled. “There you go. Fucking finally.”
Tap, tap—SMACK—
Max started to float.
Tap, tap—SMACK—
“Fuck yeah, baby. Who owns you, Max? Say it.”
From the drugging onset of rapture, Max’s brain whirled to a stop. What did Greg say? Who fucking owned him? Goddamn it. Wrong question. No one fucking owned him. Not now. Not ever. In this lifetime or the next. Acid flooded his system, turning need to hostility. Turning wild lust into thick, potent venom. Letting another own him, control his soul, was what got him in this mess to begin with. Needing dark, sordid avenues to let loose his demons so he could function in this godforsaken world.
SMACK-SMACK!
Max hissed, barricades slamming into place, his insides locking down with a vengeance.
“Come on,” Greg rumbled. “Fucking say it. Who owns you?”
“No one,” Max snarled. He submitted to no one.
SMACK-SMACK!
Fuck, that stung!
“Bullshit. Fucking don’t, Max.” Greg growled in frustration. “Goddamn it, I’m losing you.”
Tap, tap—SMACK—Tap, tap—SMACK—
Max shook his head. Fought it. No, no, no—
“Stop thinking. Just trust me. Give in, goddamn it. Let go.”
Max squirmed, heart hammering.
Tap, tap—SMACK—Tap, tap—SMACK—
Aw, fuck. Hurt so good… But his frayed mind just wouldn’t stop raging.
Greg cursed in frustration and grabbed Max’s cock. “Let go, Max,” he soothed, stroking him swiftly. “Come on, baby. Trust me. Let go.”
But Max couldn’t let go! Because he had nothing to let go of! His asshole of an anchor died months ago, and Max never found another to replace it. The reality of that nailed him like a punch in the chest, sending him into a full-blown struggle.
“I can’t!” he shouted, grappling with his binds. “I can’t let go, and I don’t trust you! I don’t trust anyone!”
Greg’s stroking ceased. Then he heavily sighed. “Alright, Max. I get it. This just isn’t for you.” Slowly he started to rub Max down. “You gave it your all, bud. I know you did.”
Max groaned, slumping limply atop the bench. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Let me try it again.”
“You have tried it again, Max. Fucking repeatedly. It’s just… It’s just not gonna work.”
Max exhaled a curse, defeat bitter in his mouth. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted so much of your time. It’s just… this total submission thing… I just… I just can’t fucking do it.”
“It’s okay,” Greg murmured. “It’s not for everyone.”
Max closed his eyes. Pressed his brow to the bench. “This means you’re done teaching me, doesn’t it.”