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For [info]glam_kink  community. Prompt: Tommy is secretly working his way through school as a stripper/exotic dancer. Jealous!Adam ensues when he finds out.

Originally posted on my LJ account. HERE.

 

Disclaimer: I neither know nor own the persons involved. But Adam is WAY better live than the CD, oh, and the plot is allll mine, baby.

 

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There’s something about that moment, right before he hits the stage, knowing that hundreds of pairs of eyes were going to be on his exhibitionist dance, that gets his heart pumping like nothing else. The black lights shroud everything in a pretty little package of mystery, hiding the pockmarks and wrinkles on the aged skin of most of his audience. He doesn’t need to peek to know that most of those crowded in the smoky, dark club beyond his stage were past their thirties—with the white picket fence, a wife and 2.5 kids. Argent wasn’t a place one could afford on a student budget.

 

It’s a full house tonight as it usually was on Fridays—the only nights he’ll go on stage. Because staying up till three am on Friday’s meant he had all of Saturday and Sunday to nurse his muscles and finish his schoolwork.

The music starts in a low pulse that builds to a throbbing beat. And throbbing is the only word he’d use to describe it. Sex, through music. That’s what Tommy Joe is out to sell tonight as struts out behind the heavy curtains in his six-inch creeper shoes.

He knows he’s hot. With his legs poured into tight ass denim—which by the way, shows off his front and back assets quite nicely—and his chest barely covered by the strip of lurid green cloth bound across it. A cropped black mesh shirt completes his wardrobe and bares an indecent expanse of his flat belly for the entire world to see. He’s wearing far less than the other girls and guys before him, but he’s got plenty of kink to make up for that.

A collar, of thick, heavy leather, rest snugly on his pale, long neck. Four D-rings glint under the hot flashes of strobes. Matching cuffs wrap around his wrists, connected to his neck by double lengths of chain.

So he begins his routine, walking the catwalk that stretches ¾ of the room with an ease and sway more seductive than any runway model. The lights almost blind Tommy as he squats and spreads his knees, grabbing his crotch for good measure. But of course, he doesn’t forget to look deferential and scared. He loves to play pretend, and pretending to be submissive when you know those two hundred men and women panting at your feet would do anything for a night with you, is pretty damn hot.
 
The hotter he feels, the sultrier his moves get.

Rising from his crouch, Tommy unzips his knee length boots and rubs his groin for good measure; pleased at the anticipatory air he’s receiving. That hand slides upwards, over his abs, under the mesh, to pinch at his spandex outlined nipples. He throws back his head and bends forwards again, making sure his ass is in the air as he peels off his silver creepers. Next is the mesh and the spandex, those come away with a little shimmy and moan.

Over the course of two years, he’s found that the audience loves to see him humiliated and vulnerable. The more he drools, the more he cries, the bigger his tips at the end—the sadist bastards. But this is what pays his bills, and it’s not like anyone he knows would be here anyway.

So he picks up the dildo gag strapped to his pole, tongues it into his mouth, and gives the audience their submissive cock slut. A few minutes of grinding and artificial moaning, and he’s out of the fucking stiff pants. Now, he’s in nothing but a skimpy silver Speedo, wearing the cuffs and collar like they’re second nature, with the small dildo strapped in place in his mouth.

He places his hands up and holds them as if they were truly cuffed above his head, then starts working his butt cheeks around the skim meal pole behind. The pole is close to the stage edge, and fingers brush his calves, occasionally even reaching up to touch his groin. But for Tommy, this is jut a transaction—as dispassionate as going to the bank to cash a check. So he allows it, even adds a little groan and thrust to keep them interested.

Soon enough, it’s time for the underwear to go, Tommy unstraps the dildo and slinks back to centre stage to pick up the scissors lying there. He wastes no time in slipping one metallic edge underneath the elastic, gyrating in a dangerous way to the music. Snip snip, he cuts four inches deep into the material on either side of his hips, causing the front to flap open slightly, giving the voyeurs a glimpse of the treasure beneath. He pretends he’s shy and adopts a scared puppy dog look. Then…

Rip. Oh yeah, now he’s in his birthday suit, making a final walk down the catwalk, with all the bits in between dangling as he moves. It’s only as he turns, that he sees the flash of glitter and ocean green eyes slicing through the dense crowd to a place in the front.

Fuck.

What in the fucking god damn hell was he doing here?

Now the flush in his face and the redness spreading across his neck is real embarrassment, and he’s not just acting scared when he dashes off the stage.

Tommy really is scared.

********************

 

Madam had an ironclad rule that no customers went backstage, and no one crossed the whip wielding Madam. Which made it all the more impressive to see Adam push his way through the dressing room door. There really wasn’t much Tommy could say, other than gulp—it was a noise, so it was speech in his books—as the six-foot something vocalist stalked towards his chair.

           
At least, he’d managed to scramble into his clothes so he wasn’t facing his pseudo-brother buck-naked. Adam, a year younger than himself, met Tommy through their parents and soon became like an adopted son. Therefore, it wasn’t a surprise that the Lamberts were assigned to be Tommy’s guardians after his parents had died in a freak boating accident. That had been some four years ago, when Tommy had been 17, and Adam, 16.

Four years and a failed college attempt later, the rising star singer still felt it was his right to loom over Tommy around like an older brother. That was not cool. Tommy was legally an adult now—which was more than Adam could say. Yet the younger man towered over him in both height and build. Which, despite Adam’s opinion, did not make it okay for him to treat Tommy like a younger sister. But the world was a fucking unfair place.

“Whatever you wanna say, I don’t want to hear.” Tommy grunted out the corner of his mouth, steadfastly refusing to look the younger man in the eye. He didn’t have to turn around to know the intimidating figure that Adam cut against the backdrop of effeminate male strippers. Even when decked out in full on glam, there was no way one would ever mistake the singer as anything but 100% male. Seeing him in his bad boy get up…was enough to send most men into heart palpitations.

Through the mirror, as he worked at removing the makeup from his face, Tommy caught glimpses of dark wash jeans and a tight black shirt over a fitted leather jacket. The blond envied his friend-slash-brother-figure for being able to breath grace and confidence in almost any situation.

Right now, he had bigger worries to think about. He was pretty sure that prickling at the back of his neck was Adam doing his best to glare holes into his skin. And if he didn’t want to get caught up in another blow up, he’d have to do a hell of a job heading the black haired man off.

“Listen,” Tommy swivelled in his chair so that he faced Adam, “I know what you’re going to say, so I’ll save you some breath. I’ve been doing this for over two years now, and I’m not gonna quit. So go home. Don’t you have something better to do with your time? Neil and your manager are probably shitting themselves right now for losing track of you.”

 
***********************

Damn if Tommy Joe Ratliff wasn’t a pretty little thing, perched all high-and-mighty in his curved chair.  And damn if that perky little ass wasn’t gonna get what it deserved tonight. To think his kitten had been flaunting it in public for years…

“Tommy Joe, if you wanted attention so bad, you only needed to ask.” Adam drawled in his sultriest voice. He watched the blond man’s back stiffen and those slim, fined boned fingers halt in their motions. Yeah, he knew what his voice could do to Tommy—had known since their high school adaptation of Hedwig, and the Angry Inch. It had been particularly amusing to watch Tommy dash for the bathroom every time Adam started practicing his lead at home. Albeit, the gyrations and spandex hadn’t exactly been part of the script…

By the defensive hunch of his back, Adam suspected Tommy to be gearing up for a spat. Well, he wasn’t exactly all that pleased with the situation either. The little blond had better give a good explanation, or this scene was going to turn ugly real fast, real soon.

“Tommy.” His voice hardened in reprimand.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the other…dancers…file out quietly. Good thing too, ‘cause he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep things in check until he got Tommy home.


Finally, the smaller man swivelled around, his deep amber eyes flashing irritably. “What? I told you what you I wasn’t going to quit, so fuck off. It’s my life and you’re not my dad.”

“No, but you clearly need someone to keep you line.” In a burst of speed, Adam was close enough to touch, his legs pressing against Tommy’s, his arms caging the blond in the chair. “And correction, babe; it maybe your life, but this body is mine.”


One long, black tipped finger traced the curve of Tommy’s clenched jaw, and trailed down to hook the open collar of his thin V-neck shirt away from his chest. The light, deceptive touch hid a world of anger and betrayal. Adam’s gut was roiling from resentment and his brain seethed at the thought of all the men who’d seen Tommy posing naked these past years—when he had yet to. Until tonight, that is.

Since moving in to the university dorms, he was able to monitor Tommy’s coming and goings. It didn’t take long to notice the small blond disappearing every Friday night, not coming back till the next morning. He never could’ve imagined that Tommy was working such a risqué job.

And Tommy had the nerve to wonder why Adam was pissed.

 
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Storm eyes. A revolving mass of green and grey and deep, deep blue was all Tommy could think about before the riptide swirling in Adam’s eyes pulled him in. Fury and confusion and even a touch of pride creased the sun kissed skin of Adam’s brow. Ink black hair fell into kohl lined eyes, and Tommy itched to brush them out of the way.

TPO, Tommy, TPO. This was definitely not the time, place or occasion.

He opened his mouth to suggest they go back to the dorms. But, Adam never gave him the chance to request.

Soft lips met his with bruising force. Not giving him a second to react, a slippery, wet tongue started prying the seam of his lips open. In that moment of shock, Tommy’s lips went lax, and the foreign tongue invaded eagerly. It was weird. Hot, but weird. He’d kissed plenty of girls in his life—some were mere strangers at a party. But they were gentle. This, this was Adam eating his mouth, and making a pretty damn good attempt to crawl into his throat. It sure as fuck felt like there was tongue touching his tonsils.

And fuck. He was getting turned on. That the simple act of tongue sliding over tongue was able to short wire him brain, was, frankly, as mind blowing as the action itself. He needed to think, and for that, he needed to breath. Tommy moved to pull away.

No deal, apparently Adam’s new plan was to make him pass out from lack of oxygen. One very strong, very big hand dug roughly into his bleached blond locks. Fingers twisted the strands around and gripped him tight to the point of pain. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Ngh.” The groan that tried to escape Tommy’s mouth was practically pornographic. He couldn’t help it. His legs were splayed open from Adam’s insistent press forward, his hands were trapped between their chest, and their groins were dangerously close to grinding together. This had been the feature of his wet dreams and one-handed orgasms for an indecent number of years. But now that it was really happening, he found himself scared shitless, his heart beating in dysrhythmia.

When Adam finally let up, retracting his tongue so only their lips brushed each other, Tommy was heading towards a vegetative state.

“What was that?” He asked, eyes dazed, lips red and swollen.

It wasn’t until a firm grip trapped his hands still, that he realized they’d been unconsciously roaming under the jacket, across the expanse of Adam’s chest.

That was just the beginning, baby.” Adam’s voice had become a deep baritone, laden with dark intent. “You dug your grave, now you’re gonna spread your legs and lay in it like a good little boy.”

One glance into his eyes, and Tommy knew the singer’s anger hadn’t abated any. If anything, he swore it became more intense. Shivers of anticipation crawled up his spine as he watched Adam watch him, hunger and dominance raging in those sea-change eyes. Christ, when did he become a masochist?

He shook his head, ignoring the hand still clinging to the blond locks. “No. I don’t do this shit. I fuck girls. Not guys.”

“Well, you won’t be fucking anyone for a long time.” Adam’s words were said like a promise. A deliciously sinister promise murmured against the shell of Tommy’s ear moments before that intrusive tongue licked path around it.

The blond’s shivers evolved into a whole body affair, the hair on his neck stood up and goosebumps rose on his skin. The hand in his hair tightened again and jerked his head back to expose his neck. Then, that tongue, that fucking amazing tongue, meandering up his stretched out neck, tracing the pulse to a point under his chin. Biting. Teeth digging into the tender, exposed flesh, bruising imprints into it. Jesus fucking Christ. Tommy felt dampness in his skinny jeans and swore. Either he just peed his pants or precome had leaked long enough to wet the front material. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Everything was too much, too sensitive, too soon, too…real. He didn’t know what the fuck he’d gotten into—he was sure those moans were his—but he needed to get the fuck out of it with his ass in one piece. Shit! His ass. There was a reason why he was so not into the gay thing. Just the thought of anything…going up there was enough to clear Tommy’s cobwebbed brain.

“Shit. Adam, get the fuck off of me.” Only, it sounded more like: Shit. Aum, ge’ t’fuckoffameh, because his mouth had forgotten how to form proper sounds. And okay, pushing at that chest was like pushing the Great Wall of China. Not productive.

“Uh uhn.” His captor grunted negatively and continued to press in. Geez, any closer, and they’d be in each other’s skin. Now, their crotches were rubbing, and the friction was like a tease. There enough to be noticeable, but not enough to be effective, only enough to be irritating.

Hands dived into the back of Tommy’s jeans, and froze.

“The fuck?!” Well, at least something had managed to divert Adam’s one-track mind for a minute. “You’re not wearing any briefs. Expecting something to happen?” Well, no. Just, no. It wasn’t like he had time to track down a fresh pair before Adam burst in. Given a choice to face the glam singer in underwear or face him in jeans without underwear…Tommy would take option B any day.

Wait… where was—

“H-hey.” That wandering hand was getting dangerously close to uncharted territory. He moved to grab the wrist of that arm and stop the wriggling movement down his pants. But Adam’s spare hand left his hair, to press hard between his shoulder blades, effectively pinning his hands between their bodies. He was literally helpless, barely able to even move his torso, as a long finger slid down the crack of his ass. “A-Adam—”

But before he could continue, Adam—once again—sealed his lips shut. Less violent, but just as firm in it’s command. So he wasn’t to talk was he? Well, tough shit. Tommy didn’t take orders from anyone, especially not a younger man. “Mhmn.”

Right. Maybe he needed to reassess that statement. Later. When he was safely away from this gay sex god, and that finger rubbing between his ass cheeks.

But oh fuck—that felt good.

Adam unlatched their lips and kissed his way to the blond’s ear lobe. Tommy took the opportunity to gasp some fresh air. He needn’t have bothered, because the dark haired singer’s next words took it right out of his lungs again.

“Look at you rubbing yourself against my fingers, soaking your pants like an untrained whore. You want to fuck yourself on my fingers, don’t you, my little slut.”

Adam had retrieved the hand pressing on Tommy’s back and reached between them, pressing insistently on the dampened bulge between the blond’s spread legs. And there were now three fingers over the ring of muscle of his ass.

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.

“Yeah, I’m your god, remember that, bitch. Next time you I catch you playing exhibitionist games without me, you’ll be on your knees, sucking me off on stage, at every performance I do, until you learn better. Got that?”

The friction from his pants and Adam’s hands was killing him. It was assault from both sides, front and back; there was no escaping. Tommy didn’t even care to think about the humping motions he was instinctively making as he tried to gain some kind of relief.

“P-Please. Adam.” He was begging. Reduced to fucking begging now. But Adam kept the slow, steady rhythm.

“You want to come? You’re like a bitch in heat right now. Blindly rubbing against anything and everything. I should throw you to our customers and let them take you like the hooker you are, fill you up till you’re leaking out of mouth and ass. I bet you’d get off doing it to.”

No. Nooo. What the hell was wrong with his body? He was so fucking hard just from a few dirty words. Tommy shook his head limply, but he knew it was too late, he was too far gone.


“If you want to come, you gotta beg me good. Just know, you’ll be wearing that come in your pants until we get home.”

Tommy really, really didn’t hear much of the last part. All he focused on was “beg” and “come.”


 “P-Please…let me come…I need to come…soo bad. It hurts, Adam. I hurt.” It was nothing short of a wanton moan. And Adam must’ve deemed it good enough, for he picked up the pace. Tommy was blinded by the singular urge to hump. He pressed hard against the fingers working at his rear, feeling the point of one dig in and push into that ring of muscle. Every muscle in his body tightened to the point of cramping and then…sounds muffled and all he knew was the hot, hot heat spreading from his cock, up his spine, warming his lower belly like aged whisky. Finally, wetness. A warm, sticky wetness coating the insides of his jeans.

Fucking hell. He’d just come in his pants.

 
*************************

“Tommy Joe. Get your stuff. We’re leaving, now.” The commanding tone brooked no argument.

But Tommy was still boneless and savouring the afterglow of the most memorable orgasms he’d ever had.

Slowly, the fuzzy edges faded and he was forced to return to Earth and reality.

Reality sucked.

He gingerly slid out of his chair, grabbing the backpack underneath it on instinct.


Ew. He looked like he peed himself. And he felt like that too.

Guilt and disgust warred with embarrassment and, ultimately, satisfaction. His mind was a riot of emotions, and he couldn’t figure out just what he should be feeling.

Tommy moved to grab a few tissues to wipe the inside of his pants. A set of five black lacquered nails dug into his arm, halting his progress. Looking up into burning blue-green eyes, he got the message loud and clear. No, he was not going to be wiping himself off.

Tommy retracted his hand and had the most irrational impulse to cast his eyes down in acknowledgement.

Adam took that as a signal to move out. “C’mon, we’re leaving this place.”

The short blond looked up, alarmed. “B-but…”

It was as if Adam could read his mind, “Yes. You’re going to walk out there in those come-stained jeans. And no hiding it either, you’re to keep your hand at your side. Consider it part of your punishment. Now let’s go!”

It was humiliating. Being led by Adam, through the crowded room of bodies, with his cock so sensitized that every brush of cloth against it made it twitch. Each step brought the cooling sticky mess to squish uncomfortably between his thighs. And those knowing stares at his crotch…that was even worse. Even in the darkened room, filled with the smell of sweat and booze, Tommy saw eyes travelling to his pants like missiles seeking a target.

By the time they had reached the parking lot, and Neil’s Honda, Tommy was biting his lips and ready to cry. Forget about being a man; he’d just lost every sense of himself in the space of half an hour.

 

 

“Good boy. I'll finish your lesson when we get home.” Adam whispered, tickling his ears, before pushing him into the front passenger’s seat of the four-door hatchback.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text


A/N: Forgive me any typos and grammar errors. Also, I know the formatting here is screwed up but I tried to import this from my LJ account and...let's just say it drove me batty just trying to get everything under one story. I need to do some more research into editing on AO3 before I attempt anything more elaborate.

 

          

  Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, Tommy chanted that mantra over and over in his head as he made sure to keep his drying eyes firmly turned to the passenger seat window. He’d much rather watch the gold and red fairy lights of passing cars than Adam’s grimly set expression. Seriously, it was starting to scare him how quiet Adam was being. Normally, a mad Adam equalled a loud Adam. This silent stranger was throwing Tommy’s self-preservation instinct into over drive. If he could’ve…no, jumping out of the car would still be a stupid idea. Adam would probably just stop the vehicle and chase him down anyway.

 

            Every muscle in his thin, wiry body cramped under the tension he felt. It wasn’t like he did anything illegal, so why did he feel shit-scared? This was Adam. Adam!

            “Ad—“

            “No, Tommy Joe. You keep your mouth shut and think about what you’ve done wrong.”

            But he didn’t know what he did wrong! Tommy chewed his bottom lip furiously, but acquiesced and stayed his protest. Slim, fine boned fingers curled into tight balls, and black lacquered nails dug deep half moons in the flesh of his palms. He couldn’t wait for the ride to be over, the silent waiting was much too calm for a storm—it was going to be a fucking natural disaster once Adam was done.

 

_____________________

            The slam of heavy oak doors resounded through the halls of Adam’s Beverly Hills mini-mansion. It was the only warning Tommy got before he was very physically manhandled up the curving staircase into the master bedroom. Well, it was more like a suite of rooms within the house. The “living room” part served as a central hub connecting the other parts. There were no doors, just tall, open archways. The whole set up had been designed to let sunlight permeate the entire space, and create a bright, tranquil atmosphere. At night, when there was no light except for the artificial warmth from ceiling spotlights and wall sconces, the darkened archways and mysterious rooms beyond lent the place an air of seductive mystery. Under any other circumstance, Tommy would’ve made a joke about romance and ambience.

            Right now, it looked more like a dungeon to him. A dungeon filled with an unknown variety of painful pleasure toys. Just as Adam had never hidden his sexual preferences, he’d also never deigned to hide the rough, carnal way he loved to play. Everyone in his close-knit circle knew about the leather, chains, and toys he kept in the walk in closet by his bed.

            Oh fucking god. His bed. Tommy shuddered at the thought of that monstrosity. It wasn’t a bed; it was a freakin’ New Years’ float for Sleep Country USA. That thing had taken seven men three hours to assemble and consisted of a huge sleigh-like frame made of purple wood, four custom made posts, a tented canopy of sheer black silk, and a headboard carved from solid ebony, with horizontal slats and construction grade metal rings screwed in for…he didn’t want to know what. The bedroom was the only part of the suite with any form of door; Adam had installed heavy dark wine velvet drapes, much like that of stage curtains, after Tommy had complained on his first overnight visit that it was uncomfortable sleeping without a closed door. At that time, he’d been sleeping on an extra cot in the living room area, but it wouldn’t have taken much to turn his head and see Adam exit his private bathroom, naked after a shower.

            To his growing horror, the dark-haired singer was making a beeline to that velvet-covered archway. No second guessing, no dilly-dallying, Tommy was being dragged into the playroom. He felt his cock twitch at that thought. Holy hell, there was something sick and wrong about crushing after your adopted brother…he knew it, but he couldn’t stop the rush of heat pooling in his lower belly. Just the sight of Adam being tall, dark and dangerous made his apathetic libido cry in gratitude.

            The curtains were flung aside, and Tommy found himself flung not-so-gently onto the small sectional that sat in the corner opposite the bathroom. Jesus, there wasn’t even a door for the bathroom here!

 _____________________


Fuck, those eyes were going to be the death of him. Adam cursed inwardly as Tommy’s pert little bottom bounced on the cushioned seat, and the chocolate in his eyes dilated into thin rings in the dimly lit room. A white-blond lock of hair fell across that pixie face, giving the smaller man a thoroughly debauched look. And Adam hadn’t even touched him yet! Well, not properly, and not nearly enough to satisfy the acid hunger pumping through his blood.

Before Tommy could move to get up, Adam shot him a look telling his “brother” exactly what he thought of that plan. He knew it to be a very potent glare, having used it on countless subs, in play party demonstrations and in private parties, to great success. Hell, he even tried it out during a few concerts last tour. It had driven the front row of bleached blonde cougars wild. And now, it did well to keep that little blond brat’s ass sitting and still.

“Adam?” The tentative question was asked in a small, subdued voice. So different from the hissing at the backstage of that strip club. Fucking hell, just the memory of seeing Tommy exposed and vulnerable like that on stage made the veins in Adam’s neck throb, though, another—lower—part of him was doing the same. But, if he wanted to play this out like the Dominant in him demanded, he needed to get himself under control. It was dangerous to mete out punishment when blinded with anger; the last thing he needed was to scare Tommy away from his life.

“Yes, Tommy. I’m unbelievably pissed at you right now.” That was putting things lightly. But, from the instant widening in those dark, liquid eyes, Tommy was still pretty clueless as to why. 

“You’ve refused all my previous offers to lend you money, even though you clearly needed it. You insisted on staying in the student housing and rooming with another guy, when I have plenty of room here. You lied to me about your part-time job. And, what’s more, to find out that you’re doing that every night? Really, kitten, put your college smarts to use and figure it out. It’s not that hard.”

With each sentence Adam’s voice got softer, harder, until his words became little more than a whispered threat. He advanced to the couch, bare feet padding softly on the area rug, jeans rubbing together in a sensual hiss of dark promises. Tommy, meanwhile, stayed frozen in his seat, his eyes clearly tracking every step the dark-haired man took, not that it would do him much good to run...

“So,” Adam paused inches away from Tommy’s knees, nudging them apart slowly but firmly so that he could slide between, hand cupping each kneecap. “figured it out yet? Here’s a hint.” 

Not waiting for permission—because, really, Tommy wasn’t going to be allowed any demands anytime soon—he dipped his head to the side of the blond’s slender neck, and caught a tender strip of flesh between his lips. Teeth followed and quickly clamped on to skin, biting down just hard enough for the body underneath to flinch out of it’s trance.

“Ow! Fuck! Adam, shit, let go!” Tommy cried, jumping slightly at the pain, trying to get away from the source of it.

That wasn’t going to happen. His boy needed to learn some basic manners and take his punishment properly. Adam lifted one hand from Tommy’s knee and brought it up behind the other man’s head, gripping the blond’s hair tightly to hold him in position while tightening his bite on the other’s neck. The twisting, while annoyingly arousing, was still annoying and needed to stop. This was easily accomplished by bringing up his left knee to cage Tommy in, while leaning his six foot odd body into the wriggling form and pressing down, forcing Tommy to lie back and be still. Only when Tommy settled down, and went obediently limp, did Adam unhinge his teeth.

_____________________


This was so motherfuckingly fucked up he didn’t even know where to begin being offended. All Adam had to do was press up against him and his stupid ass of a body just up and surrendered, turning into a rag doll. Not to mention, his mind blanked in panic at the thought of his “brother” feeling the very stiff, very real, party barely contained in his skinny jeans. Thank god he’d worn his tight pants, it at least kept his cock constricted. No embarrassing tenting here. Not at all. Wait, that just meant it’d outline his…Great, he was mind babbling now. And was that…tongue on his neck? Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck.

            “Uhn…” Tommy was a grown man, grown men do not whimper. Teeth,this time creating a bruising suction on the side of his neck, replaced the tongue. A high-pitched whining sound erupted involuntarily from his throat. Okay, well, grown men safe in their manliness were allowed to whimper. But a whimper wasn’t a whine.

            “A-Adam…Please. Stop. It hurts. It hurts…” That. Wasn’t. Whining.

            But Adam did relent. Letting go of his grip on Tommy’s head, and shifting their bodies so they lay sprawled along the long side of the L-shaped sectional. Of course, Tommy was still in the same situation: on the bottom—he had a bad feeling this was going to be a familiar pattern soon. He was trapped between the heated warmth of Adam’s body and the soft, supple leather of the cushions beneath. Arm mobility was also at an all time low, as they were gripped on either side by large, long-fingered hands.

            Stormy cerulean eyes stared down at him, and Tommy could feel them tracing the lines of his face, from his eyebrows, to his cheekbones, to his slightly parted lips. It made him even more conscious of the fact that he might not have removed all his makeup properly in the rush. Oh god, he hoped not, cause that’d be like adding insult onto injury.

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay? Now let me up.” Pushing Adam was about as effective as pushing a wall, while the laws of physics and force applied, it seemed only he was being moved. “What d’you want? C’mon, you’ve had your fun already.” At my expense.

            He still couldn’t believe what took place in Argent’s change room actually happened. He half expected to wake up any moment, and find that that very hot, very intense jerk off session was just another figment of his repressed perverted urges. Then again, those bites felt pretty damn real.

            “Don’t space out on me. I haven’t had near enough fun, babe.” The deep, sultry voice was back and in full purr. It went down the ears like Irish coffee, smooth and easy, with a lingering jolt. Tommy was couldn’t help but turn into that sound, unconsciously curving his body to meet it. However, determined hands kept him flat on his back, open and exposed for Adam’s perusal. 

            “Damn you, Tommy Joe. Sorry isn’t cutting it this time. This isn’t about me, this is about you whoring yourself out for cash. Strutting around that catwalk as if you know how to please a man. As if you want to please those men.”

            Adam was too close. Way in his personal bubble, so far past, that the bubble was probably already burst. And yet, Tommy did nothing but continue to stare and pant.

            “Have you ever had a man inside,” a hand glided down his spine, easily moulding to his butt, “here?” A single finger slid along the crack outlined by his tight jeans, pressing through the material, unerringly, on the ring of muscle between his ass.
 

            The soft jean made that finger into a blunt point of sensation, and Tommy’s instincts told him he needed something more. Something bigger, harder. But pushing back on that pressure didn’t give him the satisfaction he wanted. It felt like an itch had spread through his skin, and it was demanding to be scratched.

            Fingers clenched his ass in a bruising grip, making his heart and breath speed up in some kind of twisted anticipation. A harsh, hoarse voice cut through the momentary bedazzlement. “Have you? Tell me right now, kitten. Is your ass still virgin?”

            He had no idea what the hell—oh, HELL NO. Nonononononono. “Of course it is! I’m…I’m not into guys.”

            Although, if his gasps and groans were any indication, he was getting over that inhibition pretty quick. Adam certainly seemed to think so. The singer wasted no time in palming Tommy’s crotch, and was rewarded by a particularly shrill intake of breath followed by an equally loud moan. Before Tommy could regain his sense of dignity, Adam ground the flat of his palm into the front of his jeans, hard. And everything in Tommy’s sight became a bit star-studded.

            His jeans had dried during the car ride, but it was a mixed blessing. Dried cum turned clothing stiff, and Adam rubbing it in to his crotch made it chaff the sensitive skin of his cock in a painful way. But it hurt so good. He didn’t know if he should cry for mercy or ask for more. Adam rubbed another small circle. Yesss, he wanted more. Definitely more. It didn’t hurt so much anymore; it was starting to feel damp again down there. Flashes, he felt hot flashes wring his body, like some old woman going into menopause. Red, searing, pleasure shot through his spine, straight to his head. Better than any designer drug.

            Then, there was nothing.

            No fingers groping his ass, no pressure on his groin, no body making him feel owned.

            Dazed chocolate eyes flung wide open, mouth hanging open as if unable to breath. He was so close. So close to the point of unimaginable ecstasy. Why did they stop?

       _____________________

            Poor baby. Looking so lost and confused, lying there on his back, blond hair mussed and sticking to his forehead, eyes glazed thicker than the Christmas ham. It almost made Adam regret reigning things in. Almost. But not quite. Because there was a lesson that needed to be learned tonight. Multiple lessons, actually. Tommy Joe sure as hell didn’t seem to have any qualms about playing a slut. He really should’ve started this sooner.

            Adam bent down again, and pressed his lips gently against the small blond’s in a butterfly kiss. Barely there, gone too soon. But in that instant when they connected, it was electric. Pure electricity coursing through his body. It redefined the act of kissing, turned it into something like nothing before. Fuck, next thing you know, he’d be waxing poetic about Tommy’s teeth. Time for Tommy to shut up and put out.

            “Do you want to continue?”

Rapid bobble-headed nodding.

“You know how I play, right? I’m not going to change the rules for you.”

Another series of brain rattling agreement. Adam wasn’t sure if the arousal was ruling Tommy’s head or what. But they’d need to get things clear before it got serious.

“If you want to go any further, you need to understand a few things. First, my word is law here. You can tell me if something’s wrong, if something doesn’t feel right. But I make the final judgement call.”

Another nod, and Tommy straightened slightly from his boneless slump.

“Second, you do what I say, when I say it, and if you deliberately misbehave, punishment will be dealt and you won’t like it. I’m not a cruel person, but I demand respect and obedience from my partners.”

Yes. Good. Those puppy dog eyes were starting to lose their stunned animal look.

 “Third, I know this is confusing Tommy, but I need you to trust me. I will push your limits, test you to the point you don’t think you can go any further, and make you go one step beyond that. None of this will work unless I have your word and your trust. Do you understand?”

This time, the nod came slower, after a hesitant pause. He could see trepidation starting to enter Tommy’s dilated eyes. That was okay, first timer’s were almost always nervous. The nervous ones usually did beautifully.

“Say it out loud, kitten.” Adam ordered, letting his voice drop to a deeper, harsher, tone.

The smaller man swallowed audibly and sat up on the cushion. “Y-Yes. I heard everything you said. I…” Another hesitant pause. Eyes darted quickly upwards, seeking comfort, only to fall back down to the ground a second later. “I want this. Adam.”

_____________________

 

It felt wrong to call him that. As if Tommy’s subconscious realized he was making a very bad mistake in addressing the man before him so disrespectfully. But, Adam didn’t seem to be mad. In fact, he didn’t seem to show any emotion, his normally expressive face had been replaced with a neutral, measuring gaze. As if he was assessing Tommy’s potential.

This was one test Tommy really couldn’t afford to fail.

“Very well. First rule, when we’re alone, I don’t want to see you wearing anything I haven’t expressly given you. Strip.”

Now? Here? In front of him?

            “Yes, Tommy, now. Here. In front of me. Did you forget our agreement already? I can end it now, if that’s the case.”

            “No! No. I’m not asking to stop this.” Damn his uncontrollable mouth. “It’s just—I’m…I don’t…it’s embarrassing.”

            He couldn’t stop the cherry flush that flooded his face and crept down his pale neck. He focused his eyes on the intricately patterned rug beneath his feet and clenched his hands together in a death grip. Okay, could a person be more of a chickenshit than he was right now? Tears, unbidden, pooled behind his eyes as his body froze in shame and fear.

            Clothing rustled before him. Before he could look up, Adam was crouching down to meet his eyes. Then, hands much larger than his own covered his knees, their heavy weight lay warm and reassuring. Adam’s voice, gentled and soothing, was aloe on Tommy’s raw nerves. “It’s okay, baby. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s your body and it’s a damn fine one. I don’t want anything hiding you from me.”

            “I know. I can’t believe I’m being such a…fucking wimp because of this. I mean…I take off clothes all the time on stage. But here…” Tommy trailed off still unable to look away from the ground. If anything, the thought of his part-time job just deepened the shame in his heart. How could Adam even stand to see him naked, after seeing what he’d done for others barely an hour ago?

            “This is new territory for you, and you have a right to be scared. I know this is something you’ve made into an impersonal transaction. And I want to change that. I want you to realize your body isn’t something to be sold and cheapened in front of hundreds of strangers. Clearly you haven’t been getting the care you need, which is why I’m here, to take over and look after you.”

It made sense, what Adam was saying. Every word seemed to take a little load off Tommy’s soul. He never believed in God or religion, but perhaps, this is what people felt when they went to
confessionals. Perhaps, here was his chance to cleanse away the dirty things that clouded his conscience. Because, in Adam, he found the one person willing to take his hurt and heal his invisible wounds.

“Here, let’s start with the shirt. I want you to undo the buttons one by one, take your time.”

Tommy reached up, determined to follow Adam’s instructions and not disappoint again. Just by focusing on those simple orders, he found calm in his mind, and a centre for his unstable emotions.

“Yes. That’s it. Good boy. See, that wasn’t so bad Now, take off those jeans. They can’t be very comfortable right now.”

And they weren’t. There was the dried cum, and now the drying precum, staining and hardening on the inside of his pants. And with his lack of underwear, walking now would be a pretty nasty experience. With steady hands and a resolute mind, Tommy shimmied out of his skin-hugging jeans. He picked the pants up and dropped them in a pile to join his shirt on the other cushion of the sectional. Now naked and completely exposed, he kept his eyes trained on the pile of clothes and fought down the panicked urge to cover up again.

A hand brushed past his face to comb through Tommy’s white-blond hair, separating the worst of the tangles so the strands lay flat. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and lean into that heated palm. Like the feline Adam seemed so insistent on calling him, he purred under the wordless praise.

            “How are you feeling, kitten?”

            “M’okay.” Tommy rumbled lowly, leaning forward to rest his head on Adam’s shoulder. He couldn’t resist nuzzling into the warm column of the bigger man’s neck. Except, the hand in his hair was restraining him with a tight grip on his hair. Tommy let out a thin whine, but opened his eyes.

            “Answer me properly, baby.”

            He gave it a moment’s thought before looking back into brilliant blue-green eyes. “It feels weird…because I’m not dancing, and there isn’t a crowd. But I actually feel safe here; I’ve never felt safe on stage before.”

            “Course you wouldn’t, not with those groping perverts and hands that have been God knows where. Always had to watch out for yourself, never able to relax. That’s going to change now, Tommy. I’m going to take care of you.”

            “Yes, Master.”

            Tommy clapped his hands to his mouth, eyes growing wide at the unconscious slip of tongue. He had no idea why he’d called Adam that; only knew that it had felt right. But the immediate stiffening in Adam’s body wasn’t a good sign. Trust his mouth to know just the right thing to break a perfectly wonderful moment and send it spiralling into disaster. Was there some kind of protocol on calling your Dominant names? Assuming, Adam was Tommy’s Dom…fuck, maybe he was just trying to teach Tommy a lesson on lying and stripping. Maybe there wasn’t anything more to that, and Tommy was the hopeless romantic that couldn’t separate his dreams from reality. He always fucked things up when it came to Adam.

            “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” Tommy enthused, eager to erase his spoken error.

            “Hush. Let me speak.” A long finger pressed firm against pouty lips, effectively cutting of the blond’s litany of apologies.

            “It’s not your fault, you don’t know the etiquette for this lifestyle and because this is new, you’re not sure where we stand. But from now on, don’t call me by any title unless you are willing to accept me in that role permanently. I don’t like people saying them just to fit the scene.”

            Heated embarrassment flushed through Tommy’s slight body, making him wish some kind of hole/pit/crack would open up and swallow him from Adam’s piercing gaze. Never had he felt so humiliated, so rude, in such a short time. He clamped his teeth together and resolved not to say another word unless asked a question. To his horror, the familiar sting of repressed tears pushed at the corners of his eyes…it was déjà vu all over again, and he was at risk for becoming a permanent fountain. But it was just so…mortified that he’d somehow cheapened Adam in his ignorance. He had no idea how he could make Adam understand his remorse.

            A deep, effortful sigh breathed across Tommy’s down turned face. “I’m screwing things up again. I’m sorry, Tommy. Don’t cry, please, damn it, don’t cry baby. Fuck. I swear, I’ve never faltered with a submissive before, not once in play. But then, ten minutes with you and I’m already making a mess of it.”

            “When you act like this, you make my heart ache, kitten. Please, won’t you look at me?”

            The gentling tone combined with an even gentler hand on his chin broke the last of Tommy’s resistance. He turned his wide, watering eyes up, and stared, almost at eye level, at Adam’s concerned face. Thank god, he managed to resist the sniffing and hiccups. He didn’t need anymore help turning into a chick.

            “I’m f-fine. I’m just…embarrassed at how little I know about any of this. I don’t want to disappoint you…”

            “You could never. Never, ever, disappoint me in this. I’m angry for what I found out in that club tonight, that’s all.” Cerulean eyes darkened into murky oceans, “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten, Tommy Joe. You’re still not off the hook.” At this, Adam’s soft voice once again grew commanding and harsh.

            “W-what?”

            “I’m still mad, kitten.”

            “B-but—”

            Adam cut him off by suddenly rising up and turning away. “Get on the bed. On you hands and knees. Now.”

            Reluctantly, against all common sense, he obeyed, trotting to the bed. Climbing up proved a bit trickier, as the top of the mattress was raised over a metre off the ground. Stupid tall people and their stupid custom made furniture. But he settled down, got on his all fours, and turned to face the headboard—because that seemed the only logical way to go about it. Though he heard Adam open the walk-in-closet’s door, Tommy wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Adam had planned…despite the fact that a very large part of him was fairly panting at the thought of being so vulnerable to the singer’s wishes.

            After the initial rustling, there was silence. It seemed Adam was either not moving, or his closet had better insulation that a mental isolation ward. Or, Tommy realized a moment before something slim and cold touched the backs of his legs, he was already in place.

            “Feel this, kitten? It’s a cane. Made of ebony, the densest wood available. It’ll leave beautiful marks on pale skin like yours.” Gone was the crooning, soothing. What was left was a demanding voice pared down to its most subtle tones. The cane trailed up Tommy’s spine, following the inward arch of his back as he shivered and tried to avoid the cold wood. “Now, now, babe. Can’t have you moving away from punishment.”

            Without warning, or perhaps he was too distracted to notice, thick leather cuffs circled his wrists. Before he could so much as react to that, the cuffs had been tightened, their fur lining flush against his wrist. Instinctively, he jerked backwards, only to be yanked back by the leather and chain ropes hooked and locked into the rings on the headboard. As curious as he’d been of the rings before, he now wished he never learned about their purpose.

A/N: Because it was apparently too long the first time through >.<

Warnings: D/s content, spanking, general smut


 A hand landed firmly on one side of his ass, just hard enough to sting. Tommy yelped before he even registered the hurt. When he tried to turn around and give Adam a piece of his mind—because he did not sign up to be abused—a large hand landed on the back of his neck and forced his forehead down onto the silk comforter. The mattress shifted and a heated, clothed body rasped against his naked skin, sending more tantalising shivers down his spine.

            “Be grateful I don’t use canes on beginners. It would hurt much more than this.”

            On the last word, another, sharper, slap landed on the opposite cheek. Tommy was more prepared this time, biting his lip to prevent the cry of shock. Without further fanfare, the hits rained down in alternating fashion. They also grew in intensity as they wore on…or maybe, his ass was just becoming more sensitive. It wasn’t unbearably painful, just a stinging tap at first, which faded into tingling sensation. But, as the punishment went on, each handprint felt as if it were being etched into his skin. Fire burned in the muscles he used to clench his bottom, and when the muscles relaxed, it was both pleasant and damnably uncomfortable. It was made all the more unbearable knowing that Adam was doing this out of worry and hurt and anger; every negative emotion caused by Tommy’s actions.

            Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably less than ten minutes total, the spanking stopped, leaving a weak-kneed, gasping Tommy fighting back newly sprung tears. His ass ached in a way that indicated difficulty sitting in the near future. But his heart held a deeper pain; one that tingled down to his bones and made him clench his hands.

            Sheets shifted with a soft, deceivingly seductive sound. Arms came around Tommy’s quivering, naked form, removed the cuffs and brought him up to a sitting position. A familiar croon started up, the words not quite processing but the intent was all that mattered. Tired brown eyes closed, and he pressed into the muscled chest, placing his ear above the low, melodic rumbling.

            Adam breathed deeply into the light blond hair tucked under his chin. “No more, kitten. Promise me you won’t strip anymore. So many eyes have seen your naked body; I can’t stand the thought of giving them even one more chance to do so. You're mine now. I don’t share what’s mine.”

            It took a moment for Tommy to realize what Adam was asking, but when it sunk in, every independent bone in his body was rebelling at the idea—even as a large part of his brain couldn’t stop purring at the declaration of ownership. “I can’t do that. You know I need the money, and I’m not going to take yours. I like earning my way, and I’m good at what I do—”

            “Too good, if you ask me.” Adam growled, his arms tightening around Tommy’s waist. “Don’t like it.”

            “Don’t go caveman on me now.” Tommy snickered softly, quietly, and settled himself better into Adam’s jean-clad lap. He didn’t want to break the peace of this moment. “I’m good, and it pays excellent. Madame LaCrois runs a very clean, reputable house and there’s no danger of anything. Please understand, Ma-Adam. I need to do this.”

            The grunt that followed was most definitely of the Neanderthal category, so out of place for Adam’s polished, well-mannered personality. But the sigh that followed gave Tommy hope. When Adam sighed…it usually meant he was thinking about the opposing side, and that meant he was more likely to compromise. Now was the time to keep pushing.

            Tommy twisted around until he was looking up at Adam’s shadowed face, vaguely noting the kohl eyeliner that made them look wider, and the sharp angles that were made sharper from the overhead lights. “C’mon. It’s only one night a week. I promise, I wont take extra shifts.”

            There! Those beautiful eyes were flickering in uncertainty. Surely—

            “We’ll discuss this later.” Adam declared.

            Tommy drooped, convinced that the actual discussion was over, and that Adam had made up his mind already, against what Tommy wanted. “But…”

            “Shhh baby. Right now, I want to focus on you and your body. How do you feel?”

            Blond locks fell to one side as Tommy cocked his head, confused. His eyes grew wide as he remembered that he was still buck-naked. In Adam’s lap. It had been all too easy to forget and accept what Adam did, as if it were only natural for him to obey. He had lost all of his shyness and inhibitions in the heat of the moment. Now though, with the tingling aftershocks fading, those hang-ups were rushing back like water through a broken dam.

            “I-I’m fine. Let me up, I need to get my clothes. T-This shouldn’t have happened…” He trailed off tentatively, almost ending the sentence as a question. Through his lowered lashes, Tommy could see Adam’s face twist into a pained expression before being buried into the crook of his neck. The arms around him slackened, but the body drew tighter as if getting ready to take a heavy hit.

            “Did you want it to happen? There’s no should or shouldn’t if you agreed to it, Tommy.” The words whispered across his neck and shoulder almost like a plea. “We didn’t do anything wrong. This is me, wanting to be more to you than I’ve ever been before. I want you, Tommy Joe, in ways that you can’t possibly imagine.”

            That one sentence—“I want you…” —seized Tommy’s world and shook it like a rag doll between a St. Bernard’s teeth.

            What?” His breathed out. Not certain he could believe what he’d heard.

            Instead of replying, Adam merely rolling his hips up, grinding an impressive and very significant bulge against Tommy’s still aching butt.

            “Oh.”

            “Yes, ‘Oh.’ Tommy Joe Ratliff, I want to rub all over you and do unspeakable things to your little body. I want to make it so that you can’t think of me without blushing, without getting hard from remembering the pleasure I can give. I want to tease you till your begging in hot little pants, begging for relief only I can give. I want see my cock notched in your stretched and slick hole, just barely in. I’d hold you in place, make you take it slowly, inch by inch, so you feel the stretch of me, and know who you belong to. And that’s just the beginning, kitten. I’ll use you every way a person can use another, and you’ll love every second of it.”

            Heat flared up in Tommy, flushing his neck and to his horror, making his dick rise to attention. Trying to cover it up, only made Adam grip his wrists in one hand and move them behind him. The remaining hand came around to curl over Tummy’s burgeoning erection. He couldn’t help but gasp at such sudden contact. The resulting smirk on Adam’s darkly handsome face promised a world of pleasure and pain.

 

_____________________

            “No, Tommy. You don’t hide from me; I thought I already made that clear. You get hard. I want to see it. Touch it. Taste it.”

            Adam rubbed his hand along the smaller man’s shaft. It was slim, but long, and an adorable dark pink. Tommy writhed in attempt to escape his firm grip, but that soon changed into a whole different kinda of struggle as he started to slide up and down the length. Between the short, panted breaths, Tommy whimpered and moaned, arousing Adam faster than a San Francisco stripper.

            When a bead of precome dribbled onto Adam’s fisted hand, he let go and brought the finger up to his lips, knowing full well what his smile did to Tommy. Maintaining the eye contact, Adam slowly stuck out his tongue and licked up the clear bubble of fluid. It was a clean, salty taste, with a hint of sweetness. And it only made Adam hungrier.

            Other than a surprised yelp, there was no resistance when Adam leaned forward to push the slim man onto his large down filled pillows. Tommy flowed smoothly and, like a silk scarf drifting on the ground. Arranged himself in a naturally seductive pose. His right arm flung above his head, half covered by soft blond locks. His left arm rested low on his belly, splayed downwards, pointing to the treasure between his legs. And those legs, fuck, they were carelessly spread, as one would do when lounging in pyjamas at home on the couch. Except, Tommy wasn’t wearing pyjamas.

            “Fucking A, Tommy Joe. You’re killing me, looking so naked and pretty.” Adam didn’t waste another breath before sliding down beside the blond, and flinging a long, lean leg over that pale torso, careful of not pressing down too hard and irritating his stinging backside. “Now, how do you want it? Slow and easy or hard as I think you can take?”

            The shiver that went through Tommy’s body was felt and seen by the singer, and he revelled in bringing about such a strong reaction from merely talking.

            What Tommy said next surprised him even more. “Hard. I want to feel it, Adam. Feel you over me, in me, until you sink into my pores.”

Adam slid his leg between the blond’s and rubbed his clothed thigh insistently against the leaking appendage there. Tommy gurgled and clamped his legs together instinctively. Adam didn’t need words to know that it had been a long time since Tommy’s last partner, and that that part of the smaller man was extremely sensitive. It turned out to be both a blessing and a curse—he had to be gentle at first, until the edge was taken off. Then, then he would play to his heart’s content.
 

           Gently, the singer drew his companion into a chaste kiss, which quickly turned from lip on lip to tongue in mouth. He drove the kiss like he drove his car, fast and reckless and focused on reaching a destination. Only when Tommy was boneless and breathless did he let up to retrieve the lube and condom from his night table drawer. For this first time, he wanted to keep things simple. Show Tommy how good it could be, maybe introduce the dynamics in which Adam held his intimate relationships. Dominance and submission was not something started on a whim, and he wasn’t about to force Tommy into anything—though, if the spanking was any indication, the blond might already be leaning towards it.

Adam wet his fingertips and tweaked one pale nipple, only to be surprised at how reactive Tommy was. The blond practically shot upright with an open mouthed cry. Those deep, mocha eyes widened like a child discovering chocolate for the first time. He pushed Tommy down again, but didn’t wait for the other man to settle before resuming his experiment. Once, twice, then, a barely there rasp with his thumb…until that pale nipple budded into a dark rose. By then, Tommy was gulping in breaths, eyes closed, hands smoothing erratically over the bedspread. Then, Adam lowered his mouth and latched onto the other teat, sucking hard before letting go. Again, Tommy tried to shoot out of the bed. But this time, with Adam’s weight across his chest, he only succeeded in pushing into the warm cavern of the dark-haired singer’s mouth.
 

“Oh god. Adam…please…it’s too much.” Tommy moaned, digging one hand into thick black hair and pulling. No use, that only made Adam more eager to use his tongue and circle the nub. Tommy could do nothing but lie there and ride through the electric shocks each time tongue brushed the tip of his nipple.

But even Adam had limits, and he needed to get some relief fast or he’d empty himself in his jeans. With a hand firmly planted on either side of Tommy’s slim body, Adam crawled until he was looming over the blond, his darkening green-blue eyes glinting wickedly in the soft lighting. He aligned their bodies and ground down into Tommy’s flat belly, holding to there for a moment so that they both knew just how desperately Adam wanted his kitten.

“C’mon baby, ease up, spread those pretty thighs and show me how much you want this.”

 _____________________


 

Holyshit Holyshit Holyshit!!!

Tommy couldn’t believe he was actually doing it, opening his legs and letting Adam’s larger body sink between his thighs. The singer’s jeans, which had felt thin and smooth under his fingers, now chafed at Tommy’s stiff cock. Yet, he found himself rubbing up against that, flowing into Adam’s own rhythm, seeking the harsh control he knew Adam could give.

Pressure built from the pit of his stomach to the twin aches that were his balls. It was the metaphorical kettle boiling over, shrieking in Tommy’s mind. So loud, he swore he heard it in his ears. Slim fingers tore at the t-shirt, needing to feel skin-on-skin contact like it was air. Luckily, Adam was fast.

The shirt was gone. The pants were open. And hello, there were no pesky briefs to get in the way. He almost cried in gratitude when Adam picked up stroking his dick again. Adam really did groan, as Tommy wasted no time in reaching for the thick bulge threatening to burst from the open zipper. Jesus fucking Christ, what did a guy need to eat to get that big? The blond surreptitiously weighed what he could hold in his hand. Even though the cock was hard, it was still a ridiculous length; from base to tip, it couldn’t have been shorter than eleven inches. He wasn’t even able to circle the width with his thumb and middle finger…and now he was starting to scare himself.

A finger ran down the crease of his ass, tracing the rim on his anus. That thing actually went in there? Oh hell no! No way! The reality of gay sex made Tommy scramble back against the pillows and headboard, rattling the chains and cuffs that still hung there. He must’ve looked wild-eyed and scared shitless because Adam stopped all touches and sat back on his haunches to give him room.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” Fucking hell, those were real, softly defined abs and Tommy just wanted to lick his way down the happy trail to…focus!

How to put it delicately? “That weapon of yours is so not going up my ass!”

Right. Delicate. That was his middle name. Not. Tommy winced, expecting it to be all over now. Though, his own hard-on just got happier at the image of Adam tousled and half-naked…with his huge ass cock peeking from the confines of his jeans. Oh fuck, just shoot him now; it can’t hurt more than that thing will.

And…was Adam laughing? How could he be laughing at this really big problem—bad, bad, unintended pun!

“It’s not that big, kitten. You’re exaggerating again. I promise, I know what I’m doing, so,” there was that demanding, sultry voice Tommy so loved, “turn around and get back on your hands and knees.”

Tommy shivered, struggling against his self-preservation to obey the command. Everything seemed more doable when Adam used that tone on him. Screw self-preservation. He turned over and got onto his knees, even spreading his legs a bit, hoping somehow that would make things easier. If he knew he’d be bottoming so soon, he so would’ve gone and read up on these things—oh!

Lube. Luke warm, but cold to his overheated skin. Fingers smeared it between his ass and slicked it on his balls, tearing another moan from his throat. Coupled with the by-now steady stream of pre-come, he felt damp everywhere down there…like he’d peed himself and didn’t wipe it off; it was both arousing and humiliating and wasn’t that just wrong.
 

“Adam…do something.” The cursed man had gone silent, with only the hand between Tommy’s legs as indication that he was still interested. Tommy pushed back, eager to feel more pressure, more anything actually, on his nether regions.

A harsh slap landed on the inside of his thighs.

“Don’t move, or I’ll cuff you again.” Adam voice ordered, low and smooth. As one large hand cupped Tommy’s balls and penis, the other slid to his asshole and started the initial preparations. He tensed immediately, trying to move away from the invading finger. But the grip on his bits tightened marginally, a clear indication of what Adam thought about that. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to relax tense muscles, and closed his eyes agains the oncoming pain.

“Shit. Sorry, baby. Turn around, let’s try this again.” Adam’s voice gentled him and hands turned him again, carefully sitting him down against the propped up pillows. When they were once again face to face, Adam moved forward, and placed his hand on the slightly wilted penis between Tommy’s legs. Concern and regret shone brightly in his blue-green iris’.

“Look at me, Tommy. I’m not going to hurt you, baby. Not now. I want you to relax and let the pleasure take over. Don’t think about what’s coming, just feel what’s happening now. It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I need to stretch you or it’ll hurt later. So, please. Just look at me.”

One liberally lubed finger pushed past the ring of muscle between Tommy’s ass cheeks. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird…like it didn’t belong in there and he needed to expel it.

“Kay, kitten, you need to fight the reflex and let me in, or we wont get anywhere.”

Wordlessly, he tried to actively prevent the pushing action. Rowing increasing aware of the fact that his hard-on had returned under the attentions of Adam’s non-probing hand.

“Good boy.”

He did not just purr.

The finger swirled or twirled…it did something which hit something, which sent stars shooting across Tommy’s vision.

“Fucking son of a motherfucking bitch!” Tommy arched off the mattress with a vehement curse. He’d heard about this from people, gay friends, but he always thought they’d been exaggerating. How could anything up that place be better than pussy or a blowjob? Well, fuck him—not literally—but that was…

“Your prostrate gland.” Adam chuckled. “Consider it your G-spot. Now, you ready for more?”

Rapid nodding of head. If it meant getting hit there again…bring. It. On.

The second finger slid in a bit harder, but the firmer press against his prostrate more than made up for that. To think he’d been missing out on this… Okay, now it was starting to burn something awful. Adam was doing some kind of scissoring motion down there with those two fingers; Tommy didn’t need to see to know that he was being stretched deliberately wide.
 

“Ngh. A-Adam, it hurts. Hnn.”
 

Warm kisses quickly covered his face, distracting him enough to let the third finger slide to the second knuckle. “I know, I know, kitten. I’m sorry it hurts. You’re doing beautifully, just a bit more.”

Fingers pressed against his inner walls, pushing and pushing and occasionally brushing against the happy spot, until it all became a dull, achy itch that begged to be scratched. Tommy grew impatient. He reached out and grabbed at Adam’s cock, squeezing the wet tip in frustration before letting go.

“Fuck that, just get in me already. I can’t stand the poking around any longer.”

He was rewarded by another devastating smirk. But the fingers withdrew, and something thicker, blunter, pushed in between the valley of his legs. One, two, three, breathe…the head was in…Adam’s cockhead was inside him….holy shit. This wasn’t playing around anymore…this was real.

“Ah!”

“Fuck, Tommy, you’re still too tight. I know I’m going to hurt you like this.” Adam’s voice was high and strained, his large hands gripping bruises into Tommy’s hips. Tommy didn’t want to think anymore, he wrapped his legs around Adam’s ass and lifted his hips up towards the blunt force at his hole. The penetration burned slow and hot, like finely aged bourbon down the throat. And once he started, Adam didn’t stop, not until he was balls deep in Tommy. Crisp, ginger pubic hair pressing against bare skin.

            It was too much. Too big. Too hot. Too full. Tommy was stunned that Adam was in completely…he wondered briefly if his insides didn’t rearrange themselves to accommodate the massive intruder.

            Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Adam began to pull out until only the tip of his cock was still inside. It burned a little less, but left Tommy feeling too empty and annoyed.

            “In! Ngh..” He demanded, barely able to piece together the control to utter that one word demand.

            “Tsk tsk, kitten, where are your manners?” Adam admonished, even as he re-entered. Tommy could feel himself stretching a little more easily this time. The giant, heated rod inside made him feel spitted and vulnerable, and unbearably aroused. He tried to squirm around to get Adam to press against his prostrate again, but, Adam was too heavy. And his cock felt like it alone was pinning him into the mattress.

            Clink clink click.

            Huh? Shit! He was back in the leather cuffs.

            “I warned you, didn’t I?” Adam laughed lightly, “You were being naughty again. Be happy I’m not in a disciplining mood.”

            You better not, Tommy glared and huffed loudly, deciding to try another tactic. Seductive whining. “A-dam. Please? I’m so full and frustrated, it’s making me want to cry! I need you to move!! My ass is still burning from the punishment and now it’s also cramping.”

            “Oh baby, you’re gonna have to get used to this feeling.” Adam breathed into Tommy’s ear. He started upa  slow, steady rhythm, clearly still avoiding the blond’s prostrate. “I’m not letting you go ever again. Gonna teach you how to prep yourself, keep you slick and open so I can slide in anytime I want. You’ll like it, knowing that you’re always ready for me. We’ll work you up to wearing a plug during the day. A few days a week. Maybe I’ll make you dance at the club with one.”

            Tommy moaned louder. “Adam…ah! Do that again! Oh my—fuck! Harder. Yes! Please, faster. I need it so bad…I feel so wet.”

            “And you are, kitten, you’re cock is sopping right now.” A finger traced the vein on the underside of said appendage. “And your hole? It’s loose and sloppy. Only gonna get sloppier tonight once I dump my first load in it.” Another deep thrust, pushing Adam’s cock deeper.

            Adam’s breath caught when Tommy consciously tightened his ass. The pace picked up and soon enough all that could be heard were sounds of skin slapping skin and lusty, heavy breaths, punctuated by drawn out groans. Humidity built between the sweat-soaked bodies, making the slide against each other easier and stickier. Tommy knew he didn’t have long, and as Adam hit his prostrate for the hell-knows-how-many consecutive time, the edges of his brain went black and his vision flooded with white. His balls drew up painfully against his too hard erection. There was no way to prepare for the body-shuddering fire that spread from his lower belly as milky ropes of cum spurted across his body.

He had a vague impression of an animalistic howl above him before liquid heat scorched the channel between his legs. And then…

 

_____________________

            There was only the sound of low murmurs and fingers combing through his hair. Tommy was way too warm. Overheating, in fact. Was he sleeping next to a fucking furnace or what? He tried to wiggle out of the too-warm cocoon. He was stopped by two iron bands, and a heavy weight between his legs.

            “Hngh?” An incoherent grumble of displeasure rumbled low in his chest, but he didn’t want to open his eyes just yet. Despite the weird intrusive feeling in his ass, it was awfully comfortable.

            The weird intrusive feeling got bigger. “If you want to participate, kitten, you better wakeup now.”

            It was so obviously an order, and Tommy being the stupid, conditioned bitch he was, obeyed. He moved slightly to his stomach and bent his legs out and under. Turning his head, he blinked blearily at the large figure behind him. And noted, almost detachedly, that the thick something he felt earlier was moving in and out between his ass cheeks. He groaned without thinking. Adam was a fucking giant. It didn’t hurt at all now; it felt way too good to hurt. That steady, heavy weight penetrating and beating on his already abused prostrate made it easy to get hard again. They may not have been teenagers anymore, but they sure as hell seemed to have retained the refractory period of one.

            When he tried to reach back, the sound of chains on wood brought him to fullc onsciousness. “What the fuck?! Adam! Why am I wearing these again?” ‘These’ being the heavy cuffs he thought he’d been done with.

            Larger hands slid of his body, feathering tingling sensations along his spine, to pinch at his slightly sore nipples. Oh. God. It was like a direct line of electric heat to his cock. Already, Tommy could feel to moisture building between his legs. But, with the weight pinning him down from behind, and his hands restrained, he had no choice but to lie there and pray that Adam would be nice and quick about things.

            “I could do this all day, baby. The cuffs are so you can’t be naughty, and play with yourself.” Adam’s sex-filled rasp tickled Tommy’s ear.

            Fuck. Bad. No. Tommy whimpered uncontrollably at the perceived threat to his sanity. The distinct lack of friction to his very repressed dick was pushing him to the verge of tears and begging. Adam battering his prostrate every other thrust or so wasn’t helping his manly control much either.

            Another thrust, a more pronounced whine. “Please. Fucking hell, Adam…I’m so full…” 

            There was definitely some residue of the first round leaking from his ass right now. He could feel the wetness on his thighs.

            “That’s what you get when you push me too far, kitten. I’m planning to be in you for a while yet, can’t get enough of you or your tight little ass. Hottest thing to see you pass out on my cock and nap with it still in you. Gonna have you sleep like that at night, I think. Spitted and full, so you know exactly what you are.”

            “Y-yeah? What am I?” Tommy was getting impatient now with the orgasm denial. And an impatient Tommy is a snippy one.

            A firm pinch to his outer thigh reprimanded the mouthy behaviour. And Tommy forcibly settled down to minor grumbles.

            Adam pulled out almost completely, so that only the tip of his cock remained inside. His next words burned into Tommy’s brain like the velvet heat of his tongue on the blond’s neck. “You’re my kitten, my slut and no one else’s. This hole,” a finger brushed around the clenching ring of muscle, “this greedy little asshole, belongs to me and my cock now. You let anyone else touch you like this, and I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a week.”

            The pace speeded up into a frenzy of thrusting and grunting and sweaty moans. Adam didn’t even try to hit the blond’s prostrate anymore. All Tommy could focus on was the singularly unique feeling of being ploughed into like an object. But before he could think more on it, the familiar intense burn erupted through his balls and penis, leaving him breathless and mindless in a numbing pleasure.

When he finally came back to the present, it was to the feeling of silky comforter against his back, and a heaving body half draped over his own. Adam had just used him like a masturbation hole, and he couldn’t believe he’d gotten off on that—seriously, when did he become a masochist of any form?

_____________________

 

Reluctantly, Adam shifted off the slight blond, feeling that slim body shudder as he pulled his limp, but still substantial, dick out. Fuck yeah, Tommy made a damn hot sight. That elfin face was relaxed to the point of seeming unconscious. Those big brown eyes now covered half-mast by thick, dark lashes. With his arms raised to the headboard, and his legs splayed wantonly across the blood red and black covers, and that sticky white liquid dripping from his twitching hole…His boy looked well and truly fucked.

There would be plenty of time to introduce Tommy to all the aspects of Adam’s lifestyle, but for now, his kitten needed to rest. So, very quietly, leaving Tommy to bask in the afterglow, Adam trotted to the bathroom for a very quick shower. It took less than five minutes, and with his blue-black hair still slightly dripping, the singer returned to bed. Now equipped with a dampened washcloth and a clean towel in either hand, he made short work of wiping down Tommy’s lithe body, admiring the graceful lines and wiry muscle that covered it.

After throwing the towels to the floor, to be dealt with at a later time, Adam reached up and unbuckled the cuffs on Tommy’s wrists. He slid his boy under the covers and reached for the remote on his night table to shut off the lights. Finally, with the room was bathed in shadows and soft foxsilver moonlight, Adam climbed in next to Tommy’s dozing form. Ignoring the adorable grumble from Tommy, he pulled the smaller man’s body closer—it fit neatly against his own, like the missing jigsaw piece that finished the puzzle.

          “Sleep, kitten.” Adam ordered, tucking the blonde head under his chin, luxuriating in the overwhelming tenderness and love that only Tommy could make him feel.

Tomorrow, they would talk about boundaries and limits and hash out the details. Tonight, they would just be.

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