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It took some time, but I’ve settled into this new dynamic of ours.
Honestly, I loved it. Vulgar and unethical as it was, I could no longer deny how much I craved him, the burning pleasure I felt when he worshiped me.
There was almost never a moment where I didn't have a hand or lips all over me. He could touch me whenever he wanted as much as he wanted, he didn't have to ask. I told him he could. I’d wake up to his hand rubbing my chest, kissing me ‘good morning’ before crawling under the blanket and sucking me dry. Before I leave for the day, his arm is wrapped tight around me, hand stroking and grabbing all it could reach. When I come home, he’s there waiting for me on his knees, greeting me with kisses on the tops of my feet and ankles; it made me start wearing sandals. Eating meals, taking showers, downtime, there wasn’t an inch of my skin that has not been marked by him, by his love and devotion. At night, he keeps me warm, arm wrapped around my waist and his face tucked into the crook of my neck as he whispers prayers till he falls asleep. Then, the cycle repeats. And it was heaven.
There was only one absolute rule: only I was allowed to punish him. If he wanted to be punished, he must ask me. If he wanted to bleed, I must be the one carving. It was for his safety, god forbid he cut too deep and I'm not there to help him. He promised he would never harm himself, and I trusted his word.
I didn't mind punishing him, but it would always take a toll on me. In the moment, I’d feel good, I’d feel strong. But afterwards, I felt disgusted in myself, I felt evil. If I had it my way, I would shower him with love and praise, tell him how he was a good person who deserved to live over and over till he never doubted it again. But, he wanted this, he needed this. And I promised to give him anything he needed. I rather have this weigh on my soul than come home to find him gone.
Thankfully, he never asked for punishments too often. Perhaps once or twice every month or so, and only when he really needed it. And afterwards, he’d dote on me with kisses and words of praise. “Darling angel. You were perfect tonight. Thank you for punishing me.” It always made me feel better. And I never had to worry about him hurting himself.
Then one day, I came home a bit earlier than usual. I called out to Simon, telling him I was home.
“O-one minute, angel.” The nervous haste in his voice gave me pause.
“Simon?” I watch towards the direction of his voice. By the time I reached him, he was bolting out of the med room, freezing in the doorway at the sight of me. His face was pale and sweaty.
“W-welcome home, my angel.” He greeted, hand twitching as he held himself up by the doorframe, “How was your day?”
“It… was fine. Are you ok, Simon?” I asked.
“Of course, my Grace. Why do you ask?”
“You look pale,” I cup his face in my hands, “Why were you in the medbay?”
“I… well… I was…” He trailed off. He couldn't look me in the eyes, like he was guilty of something. I looked into the room behind him, and then I saw it: a pristine medical room, clean except for a single scalpel on the exam table, its tip bright red.
I turned to Simon, my eyes narrowed, making him squirm, “Simon? What were you doing before I got home?”
“I… I was… umm…” he stuttered, face red and nervous. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him over to the exam table, his back hitting the edge with a soft thud.
“Why the hell is this here?” I held up the bloody scalpel to his face. He couldn’t answer, couldn’t even look me in the face. I let go of him and stepped back, “strip.”
“A-ange—” one hardened glare shut him up. He pulled off his shirt. I grabbed him, rougher than I probably should have but I couldn't bring myself to care, checking his arm and torso for cuts. I don't see any.
“Pants off.” I ordered.
“Angel, please. I—”
“Pants. Off.” I’m annoyed now, he can see that. He shakily pulled down his sweats to his knees, enough for me to see one of his thighs hastily wrapped in bandages that were not there before I left for work this morning.
“Simon,” I growled through gritted teeth, “Do you want to tell me what you were doing before I got home today?”
“I… I-I…” his cheeks flushed, mortified when he looked at me, “I can explain.”
I grabbed the bandages and started pulling them off. Loose, bloody gauze fell out, revealing the fresh cuts made atop old ones, probably so I wouldn't notice. Thankfully, they weren't anything too bad, no stitches required, but the idea that he was doing this behind my back set me off.
“Still want to ‘explain’ yourself?”
“It was only this once—”
“Don’t you dare!” I couldn't hold back my anger. He stiffened, tears welling in the corner of his eyes. “We have one rule: no cutting yourself. You promised. What if you had hurt yourself and I wasn't here to help you? I trusted you, Simon!”
“I’m sorry,” He whined, trembling under my angry gaze, “please forgive me, my angel. I swear it was only this once, I won't do it again.”
“And how can I be sure you won't do it again?”
“I…” His eyes trail down to my hand, “you could… punish me?”
I looked down at my hand to see I was still holding the bleeding scalpel. I look back at him, less angry but still annoyed, “you can't be serious.”
“I deserve to be punished for my disobedience. Please, let me atone for my sins, my angel.”
I should punish him for this. I wanted to punish him. But to punish him for cutting himself by cutting him seemed counterintuitive. And truthfully, I didn't trust myself to cut him in this state. How do I punish him without punishing him?
Oh.
There’s an idea.
“Alright, you want a punishment? Fine then. But…” I toss away the scalpel, “no cutting this time. I have a special punishment for you tonight.”
“O-oh, ok.” He almost sounded excited, I could see the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, wanting to smile.
“Your punishment: for one earth week, you are forbidden to touch me.”
All the color drained from his face. “W… what?”
“One week, 168 hours, you cannot touch me, kiss me, and definitely cannot fuck me till I say your punishment is over.”
“You… you can’t mean that.”
“Oh? Think I’m bluffing?”
“But… a week is so long. Surely, you… I… angel…” He reached out to touch my face, and I backed away before he could make contact. The rejection on his face was almost heartbreaking, but I stayed firm.
“Touch me and I add another 24 hours.”
His eyes grew wide and afraid, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. He looked more scared at the threat of no touch than he ever did at the threat of a knife slicing him open. He dropped to the floor so fast it’s amazing I didn’t hear his knees crack. “Please! Please, my angel! Not this! Anything but this! I’ll do whatever you ask of me! Bleed me! Tie me to the bed! Take my hand! Take my whole arm if you must! I’ll do whatever you ask of me, but please, not this! I’m begging you!”
He pressed his forehead to the floor, sobbing like a baby. I almost wanted to take it back. But, he had to learn his lesson.
“Simon, look at me,” I commanded, crossing my arms. He looked up, bleary eyed and drenched in tears, “this is for your own good. You have to know you can’t hurt yourself.”
“I won't! I won't, I promise!”
“That’s what you said before, yet you still did it. You broke your promise, and now you’ll have to serve your penance for it.”
He stiffened. He hated this, I knew he did, but he bowed his head regardless, “yes, my angel.”
“Good boy,” I tell him, as I reach for my watch and set a timer for 168 hours, “time starts now. I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Alright an—” He goes to stand up, out of habit of always showering with me. He knelt back down, staring at the floor in shame and grief, “I’ll… go after you then.”
I felt bad for him. I wish I could say I only felt bad for him. I wish I could say my cock didn’t twitch from the rush of the power trip.
This was harder than I thought it would be, not just for him, but for me. Waking up to a cool bed and not the warm strong chest I grew accustomed to left me feeling even more tired than when I went to sleep. I rolled over, expecting passionate ‘good-morning’ kisses and caresses, but felt nothing but air. I looked over to see Simon on his bed, looking at me with tired, yearning eyes. Seems like neither of us got a good-night’s rest.
“Morning, my angel,” He greeted, voice low and gravely, “Did you sleep well?”
“Umm yeah,” I lied, rubbing my eyes and sitting up, “you?”
“Y-yes, thank you.” He’s also lying.
The rest of the day dragged on like a slug. My body hurt, but not like a usual physical pain, I felt itchy on the inside. My skin buzzed and burned. Even my head was unadjusted. I couldn't focus on my lessons, I forgot the silliest of things. I became distracted by images of Simon: him on his knees, him naked and sweaty, him drenched in his own blood and begging for more. Oh lord, I'm screwed. When I got home, I ran to the shower, avoiding Simon’s gaze. Lord knows if I saw him, I’d jump on him and tear off his clothes. I turned the faucet to a frigid cold, but that didn't temper the heat in my gut. My hands drifted lower, my fist gripping my dick and my fingers prodding my asshole. I wished for Simon to break into the bathroom, rip away the curtains, and fuck me like a beast, punishment be damned. But he didn't, because he's nothing if not an obedient devotee. I left the shower, dried myself off, and went straight to bed.
“Angel, aren't you going to have dinner?” Simon asked me from the doorway, sounding like a worried parent.
“I’m a bit sleepy right now,” I said, not even bothering to turn around, “gonna take a little nap, I'll eat later.”
“Oh… alright. Sleep well, angel.” He dimmed the lights and I heard his footsteps leave the bedroom. I peered down at my watch: 144 hours left. Jesus Christ. I grabbed my pillow and cradled it tight to my chest. I didn't take a nap, nor did I eat later.
After the first 2 or 3 days, it actually got a lot easier. I heard when you quit something cold turkey, the first few days are the worst because your body has to adjust to the sudden withdrawal. Now, it felt like nothing had changed.
“You're looking a lot better, my angel.” Simon told me, sitting at the table watching videos on the laptop.
“Yeah, I just needed some rest, is all. What about you, big guy?”
“I… um… I’m well,” He didn't sound too confident, “H-how much longer is the punishment?”
I glance at my watch, “About 95 hours left.”
“Oh, ok. Just curious.” He rubbed and scratched at his collar. I should feel pity, but all I felt was the pride of knowing he wanted nothing more in the world than to touch me. It made me feel sexy, it made me feel powerful. I stepped forward, and I watched his eyes grow wide as every muscle in his body locked up. I stand no less than an inch from him, my eyes burrowing into his. “Angel?”
“Just want to see something.” I leaned in, like I'm leaning in for a kiss. He sucked in a breath. It would be so easy for him to steal a kiss. His lips trembled, I could see him doing the math in his head. Was one kiss worth another 24 hours? I wait to see if he’ll move. He doesn't.
I lean back with a smile, “Nevermind. Just my imagination.” I walked towards the bedroom. I stopped. I looked back, and I saw he turned back to his laptop. His headphones are back on his ears, so he couldn't hear me creeping back over to him. His hair is up today, and I get a nice view of his thick, tan neck. I leaned in and blew a warm breath on the exposed skin. He gasped, ripping off the headphone and spinning around.
“Y-yes?”
I smiled coyly, “Just some lint on your neck, nothing more.” I walked away. I reached the bedroom this time, but I kept the door open just enough to hear him whispering to himself with his head bowed.
“Dear lord, give me strength. Hold back my temptation, just a little longer.”
I bite my lip. Oh, this will be fun.
The next 3 days were a breeze. For me at least, not for Simon. Now that I've discovered the joy of teasing him, I was having a lot more fun with this punishment. I stopped wearing shirts around the house, I made sure to stretch whenever I stood up. I could feel his eyes on me every single time.
“Goodness, my neck is killing me,” I say to no one in particular, “I could really use that pain relief cream in the medbay—”
I could have died laughing hearing him jump off the couch and run to the medbay. He comes back just as quickly, holding out the white tube of cream. “Here you go, angel.”
“Why thank you,” I took the tube from him, making sure not to accidentally graze his hand.
“Would you… like me to help you with that?” Aww, he was too cute.
I raised an eyebrow, “You’re not going to touch me, are you Simon?”
He looked so dejected, it was almost saddening, “No, my angel.” He sat as far away from me on the couch as possible.
“Smart boy,” I tell him. That made him perk up, just a little. I squeezed the cream into my hands, rubbing them between my palms. I placed them on my neck and let out a long, exaggerated moan.
“Oh yeah, that feels so good,” I moaned, throwing my head back and arching my back. Simon crossed his legs, watching me with wide, yearning eyes.
“Wow, your uh…” He swallowed, “your neck must be pretty sore.”
“Mmm… It’s not just my neck,” One of my hands slid down to my chest, rubbing circles into my sternum and groping my pecs, “It’s here too. It feels like every inch of me is aching, begging for something to fix me,” I turned to him with half-lidded eyes, “I wonder what it is.”
He shivered, sweat beading down his brow, “H-how many hours left?”
“Keep asking me that and I'll add another 12 to the count.”
He stiffened, “Yes angel.”
Damn, he's so fun to tease.
Later that night, when the two of us were getting ready for bed, I ‘accidentally’ tossed my underwear onto his bed, just barely hitting him in the thigh. I forgo the usual pajama set and slip under the covers completely bare.
“Goodnight Simon.” He doesn't say goodnight back. I lay in bed, still as a board with my back turned to him. I heard the soft shuffling of fabric, followed by a deep inhale then a muffled groan. Then, more fabric shifting, the rubbing of skin, and more groans. I didn't need to turn around to piece together what he was doing with my underwear. Hopefully, he’ll fall asleep soon, and I could deal with my own hard-on.
Finally, there were only a few hours left in the punishment. I was eyeing the clock every 5 minutes, I had to time this just right. I ended my class early today, after I had them watch a couple Bill Nye episodes (some things just never change). I strode over to the house, my watch in my face to keep time. I got to the front door and before I could even touch the knob, Simon threw open the door so hard it was amazing it stayed on its hinges.
“Angel?” He was beautifully disheveled, face red and sweaty. He wore nothing but his boxer, his dick throbbing and hard, a small wet spot on the grey fabric. “You're early.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Shall I just leave then?” I turn around. I didn't even have a chance to take a teasing step before I heard the sound of him dropping to his knees.
“No please! I’m sorry, I'm so sorry.” He pleaded, “Please, come in me— I mean, come inside.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. I turned around, smiling down at this poor pathetic sexy man. Carefully, I stepped over him and headed inside. I shed off my cardigan and let it fall to the floor. “I’ll call you over when I’m ready.”
I head to the bedroom where I remove my clothes till I was naked as the day I was born. I grabbed the lube off the nightstand, sat on the bed, and watched the clock. 15 minutes left. That should be plenty of time.
“Oh Simon!” I called out. I heard the front door slam shut and footsteps rushing over. He stood in the doorway, eyes landing on me with a desperate hunger. I snapped my fingers and pointed to the floor, “on your knees.”
He dropped to his knees and crawled to my feet, kneeling like a well-trained dog, he even had those sweet, needy puppy-dog eyes.
“Only have a few minutes left in your punishment,” I tell him, gesturing with my watch-clad wrist, “you must be so excited.”
“Y-yes angel,” He whimpered, “I’m so excited.”
“Such a patient worshiper. But, you're going to have to be patient for a little while longer. It shouldn't be too hard for you though, right?”
Simon swallowed, “Right.”
“Good. So good for me. And for being so good,” I pop open the bottle of lube and pour it over my shaft, “You can sit there and enjoy the show.”
He watched with bated breath as my hand slowly wrapped around my manhood. I stroked my dick up and down, keeping eye contact the entire time. I was teasingly slow, I wanted to make the show last, but it was proving to be a challenge. Simon wasn't any better, face bright red and sweating, he looked hypnotized by my pumping fist. “You're so beautiful, angel.”
“I know. Bet you wish it was your hand around me.”
He trembled, “I want to touch you so badly, it’s all I've been thinking about all week.”
I chuckled, “I bet you regret breaking your promise now, don't you?”
“Yes, yes I do. I swear I'll never do it again. I swear!”
“Smart boy,” I purred. I picked up the lube again and squirted some onto my fingers. While my left hand jerked me off, my right hand reached lower in between my thighs and prodded at my rim. Slowly, still keeping eye contact, I worked the tips of my fingers into my hole. A bead of blood sprouted from Simon’s lip as he bit down hard, gripping his thigh as he watched me finger and jerk myself off.
“May I touch myself? While I watch?”
“Aww, how sweet of you to ask first. But, you may not. You sit and watch, that is all.” He actually started pouting. “Oh, what's with that face? Don't act like you didn't get enough of that from using my underwear.”
The horror and mortification on his face was delicious, “Y-you saw?!”
“Of course I did,” I teased, “Such a naughty boy you are, using my undergarments to please himself. Are you truly so depraved that the mere smell of me makes you hard?”
I thought he was going to tear the meat off his thigh. “Yes angel! You smell so good, it makes my mouth water. I need you so badly, I need to touch you, angel!”
“Why don't you?”
He blinked, “what?”
“I’m right here, aren't I? There’s nothing stopping you from just taking what you want.” I spread my legs wider, my smile laced with temptation.
Excitement was building in his eyes, he slowly crawled up to the bed. His chin rested on the edge of the mattress, his hand slowly reaching out for my thigh, “I can… touch you?”
“Sure. I mean,” I looked down at him with narrowed eyes, “it wouldn't be the first time you broke a rule.”
He stopped, hand flinching like it was burned, “What?”
“You heard me. The rule was you wouldn't hurt yourself, and you broke it. And now, you want to break the rules of your punishment, when you're already so close.”
“But…I—”
“Bad boys break rules. Bad boys disobey their angels. Do you want to be a bad boy?”
I could hear his heart shattering. He pulled away his hand, “N-no.”
“Good.” Jesus, if I knew a power dynamic would turn me on this much, I would've done it sooner. My hands moved faster, heat bubbling up my body. I felt like a priceless painting at a museum, something so beautiful it couldn't be tarnished, yet everyone wanted me. The way he moaned and pleaded, panting like a dog at just the sight of me. I couldn't take it anymore. My back arched and I threw my head back as I came all over my belly.
Simon licked his lips, out of habit more than anything. I wiped the cum off my belly, the thick substance pooled onto my fingers. I hold them out for him, and his eyes sparkle. He leaned in, tongue out ready to taste me, till I pulled my fingers back at the last second. I saw all the hope in his eyes shatter as I wiped the cum off on the bedsheets.
“Oops,” I said, playfully. He stared at the wet stain, semen seeping into the sheets. His chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Fuck!!!” I jumped back, eyes shot wide open. He screamed in a way I’ve never heard him scream before. He curled up into a ball, hand tearing at his hair, sobbing violently.
Oh.
I went too far, didn’t I?
“S-Simo—”
“Please! Angel!” He keened, looking at me like I was deciding if he should live or die, “please, I’m sorry! I swear, I’ll never disobey you again! I’ll never touch another blade again! I’ll never look at another blade again! I’ll be a good boy! I’ll be such a good boy for you! Please, I need you so badly! It’s killing me, angel! Just a touch, a kiss, your breath on my skin! Please!”
Jesus, I never thought tears and snot could look so sexy on a man. I leaned in dangerously close, my lips ghostly over his quivering ones. I could feel his hot panting breath on my face. Despite his desperate gaze, he does not kiss me. We stayed there, a continuous drumroll with no payoff.
Still restraining himself. What a good obedient boy he is.
I pulled away, poor boy letting out a pathetic whine. I lie back on the bed, spreading my legs wide, my stretched open and lube-soaked hole out on display for him. All the while, he waits, shaking and anxious, but he waits.
And waits.
Waits just a bit more.
My watch beeped, and I sighed, “Fuck me, please.”
The speed in which he jumped up off the floor and got on top of me was inhuman. His hard and leaking cock slammed into me with a force that felt like being stabbed. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust. The moment he’s in me, he’s rutting like a wild animal at the peak of their mating season.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He wept, “my angel, my good beautiful beloved angel! I love you more than anything in the world!”
“I— Ah! Fuck! Oh god!” I didn't realize how starved I was for him till he was on me, touching me, kissing me, “Yes! Yes! Fuck, I missed you! I missed you so much!”
“I missed you too!” he wept, hand and lips touching all it could reach, “I missed your skin, I thought I would die without you.”
He fucked me like the world was ending tomorrow. His teeth and lips marked every inch of my skin he could reach. I feel his hot load shoot inside of me. I expected him to give in so quickly, but I hadn’t expected him to keep going.
“S-Simon?” I asked. His hips continued to thrust forward, despite his flagging cock.
“Not done,” he growled, “been too long. Need more of you.”
I gasped, my body going slack in his embrace. I let him have me. He deserved it after all, he completed his grueling punishment, he deserved a reward for his patience. What started as sharp, frantic thrusts became a slow, passionate grind. Perhaps it was because I already came, but I felt delirious from all the pleasures.
“Oh Simon! That’s it, fuck me! Show me what my good boy can do!”
He shivered out a groan, “Y— Yours?”
“Yes, mine! All mine! My beautiful, perfectly devoted lover! You’re mine, Simon!”
Like a light switch, I felt him harden in me. Abandoning the slow grind, he’s pounding into me like a jackhammer. “Yes! Yes! Yours! I’m yours! I swear on every star above! I’ll carve your name into my heart, it’s always been yours! I’ll be yours till the day I fucking die!”
I wailed. I always had a long refractory period, and now was no different. But the way he fucked me, the way he moaned out for me, the way he devoted himself to me, I knew I was going to come regardless.
All I could smell was salt, all I could feel was the sweltering heat, all I could hear was our relentless moans. His pace grew sloppy and I knew what was next.
“S-Simon, cum in me! Cum inside your angel!”
“Fuck! Yes! Yes! My Angel! My Ryland! My Grace!”
Stars explode in my vision. My toes curled as I gasped for air. I never had a dry orgasm before. It felt like dying. It felt amazing. Maybe this is why they called an orgasm a little death. I feel pain, I feel pleasure, I feel my body rise and rise, then gently fall into the afterglow.
He pulled out and rolled over next to me, his arm lazily wrapping itself around my waist. I turned over, wrapping my arms around him as well.
“I love you angel,” He cooed in between peppering my collarbone with kisses, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Simon.” I kiss his forehead and give him a big hug, “How do you feel? That wasn’t too harsh of a punishment, right?”
“No, you were incredible.” He tilted his head up, looking at me with those nervous puppy eyes, “How… how do you feel?”
“Me? I feel fine. Why do you ask?”
“You always seem so… ‘sad’ after punishing me. You keep apologizing, holding me close like you think I’ll leave you.”
I pulled back, just enough to get a good look at his face, “is that why you cut yourself when I was gone?”
He looked away, then nodded, “I needed the pain, needed the punishment. But I knew you would hate yourself if I asked.”
“Simon, you don't have to worry about me, honestly. It… does hurt me to punish you, I'll admit, but I’m willing to do it for you. I’d do anything to ease your pain.”
“I know, my love. But… I’d rather keep the pain than make you feel it.”
“Don't say that.”
“It’s true. I’d rather you never touch me again than have you suffer for even a moment.”
I pursed my lips. I hated punishing him, every cut I made filled me with anxiety. The guilt and shame I felt in the aftermath made me feel like a monster. But, it was what he needed, and I promised to take care of him. If I could find a way for us to both get what we wanted, I’d do it.
Honestly, this punishment, despite lasting a whole week, was exponentially easier than cutting. It was tedious and took a lot more willpower, but at least I didn’t have to worry if this would kill him. Also, it was really fun to tease him. If I could just do something like that instead…
Perhaps?
“Does it have to be cutting?”
He blinked, “what do you mean?”
“Is it the actual cutting you want or do you just want to feel pain?” I asked, “What if— like this week— I punish you without cutting?”
“What did you have in mind, angel?”
I pursed my lips, then I sat up, “Lay across my lap.”
He seemed confused but did as I asked. My hand gently smoothed over his ass, that was all the warning I gave him before my hand came down hard on his ass.
“F-fuck!” He gasped.
“How was that?”
“That… hurt, but… felt so good.”
“Shall I keep going?”
He nodded slowly. I spanked him again, over and over till his cheeks turned a bright red. This I could handle. I was hurting him, but I wasn't breaking skin. And more importantly, he was enjoying it. He moaned and whined, drool dripped down his chin. And that wasn't the only leak he had.
“I can feel your precum on my thighs. Are you enjoying your second punishment?” I teased as my hand came down again. He whined and bit down on his bottom lip. I tug on his hair when he doesn't answer fast enough, “I asked you a question, boy.”
“Y-yes,” He wept, “Yes, I love it! Punish me, please!”
I chuckled, “Two punishments in a week. You really are a masochist.”
I spanked him till my palm ached, but I was having too much fun. I dragged my nails down his sore ass, relishing how his whole body spasmed and tears poured from his eyes. His cock was so hard and wet, his hips gave short involuntary thrusts. “You gonna cum, just from this? You came untouched just from eating my flesh, this should be easy.”
“A-a-angel! F-fuck!” I sunk my nails deep into the muscle till his whole body locked up then slowly relaxed. He purred, basking in the afterglow as I gently ran my fingers up and down his spine.
“Think that could work?” I asked. He nodded, nuzzling and kissing my thigh.
Oh yeah, this will work.