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Failing, kind of...

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He knew he shouldn‘t do that. Technically, Bruce hadn‘t allowed him to play with himself. He hadn‘t denied Clint‘s request, either, sure, but usually it meant that Clint just simply wasn‘t allowed to do whatever it was he asked for. But well, technically

Bruce had a shitty day, Clint knew that. A shitty week. Of course, he didn‘t say anything, but Tony had been frustrated enough to use his own private lab instead of the lab he mostly shared with Bruce. And that was saying more than both geniuses probably wanted to admit.

He just wanted to give Bruce something nice, and Bruce liked it when Clint stretched himself. Clint didn‘t knew why, Bruce said once that he liked looking at Clint while doing that. Knowing that Clint felt comfortable enough to do that in front of him or something like that. Little did Bruce know how incredible it was that the scientist didn‘t just run for the hills when Clint had asked quietly if that would be something Bruce was interested in. Most people had been running afterwards. The rest had mostly taunted him for it. But Bruce? Bruce had been interested. Not only that, he didn‘t just do it whenever Bruce wanted or with whatever pace Bruce wanted. He indulged in Clint’s fantasy, did it even when only Clint was really up for it. Because ’This takes training and just because Bruce trained Clint it didn’t meant that Bruce couldn’t also do something else instead’. He even listened to Clint describing his fantasies and made suggestions while they had been talking – and there had been a lot of talking. Bruce was very strict regarding trying new things. Everything had to be talked about.

So, yeah, Bruce would like it that Clint had already stretched himself a bit, wouldn't he? Careful, Clint took one of the dildos - one of their bigger ones. Bruce would buy more when they needed them, but at the moment the big, knobby dildo would be challenge enough, out of the drawer and the bottle of lube. The dildo was already 2 inch at the top and probably more like 4 inches on the base. Clint swallowed and carried lube and toy to the bed before shedding his jeans and climbing on the bed. His plug now had barely 3 inch and he had already begged Bruce go slower this morning.

When he reached for the plug lodged inside him he felt it shift and couldn‘t stop himself from moaning. Just because his body had slowly been getting used to the constant stretch it didn‘t mean that it didn‘t still felt really, fucking nice. He felt himself clench around the toy while rocked himself a bit on it, wishing he would be allowed to touch his cock, but that had been a very clear order. No orgasm until Clint could take the big guy or until Bruce deemed it was necessary – or until he thought Clint had been good enough.

After a few minutes rocking on the plug he carefully pulled it out, moaning at the stretch, the slight pain. And then at the loss when he felt the plug coming free. He was just… empty. He whimpered, felt his hips moving against nothing but thin air. He loved the feeling, being empty, gaping. He loved it even more when Bruce watched, mocking him for his eagerness. He knew that Bruce didn‘t meant it, somewhere deep down. That Bruce did it for Clint, too.

Careful, Clint reached around himself, moaning when he felt no resistance while pushing two fingers in, felt himself gaping enough that only felt the fingers without really getting any stimulation. He pushed another finger into his body while sucking on two fingers from his other hand, let them wander down to his chest. Pinching his nipples hard enough that they tingled even after he let go. Another finger went into his ass, but he knew he wouldn‘t manage the whole fist. Bruce let him try, sometimes, but even though Clint was flexible…, well, that wasn‘t something they had taught him in the circus. Whimpering he removed the fingers and grabbed the toy, coating it with lube as fast as he could before shoving almost half of it inside him, thankful that no one heard the mix out of a moan, scream and whine. At least now he had something to rock onto. Maybe, he could touch his cock, too? Just once, or twice. He wouldn‘t come, that wasn’t allowed, but Bruce also liked it when Clint was really desperate. And if he would stop often enough to keep himself right on the edge, Bruce would see how desperate he was, would maybe even taunt him for it.

When he touched his cock, he almost screamed, muffled it with the pillow. Hastily, he tried to shove the toy deeper into him while teasing first his cock, then his balls and back, trying to cram more of the toy into his ass. Almost all the way in, just a little bit more. He pushed himself against the toy as hard as he could while trying to keep his hand steady.

At least until he felt another hand on his own hand. The hand that hold the dildo, now almost completely into him and kept the last bulb where it was, halfway in his ass, halfway out, stretching him wider than he could remember ever been stretched.

What the hell are you doing there, slut?“, Bruce growled, voice dark and Clint froze, let his hand drop from his cock but not daring to move it away. Why was Bruce home already? No, not Bruce, Clint reminded himself, moaning when his ass tried to clench down on the intruder. Now Sir. Because Bruce only sounded like that when he was Sir. Clint tried to rock back on the toy, but Sir moved the toy with him. A disappointed whine came out of his throat, but it wasn‘t his decision now. Not anymore.

„Stretching myself, Sir. Sir had a bad week and I know how much Sir likes it when I stretch myself.“, Clint answered gasping, trying to stay as still as possible. Sir made a strange noise before ripping the toy out of Clint. He didn‘t even try to suppress the scream, only getting louder when Sir replaced the toy with his hand. So good. But not enough. Never enough. Sir made a fist and Clint slowly rocked back, not caring about the sounds he made. God, he didn’t even really needed that much prep anymore before Sir could fist him! Maybe now they could start with stretching him wide enough that prep just wasn’t necessary anymore for anything.

„Ah. So stretching your cunt involves touching your cock now? Care to explain to me since when? And while you’re at it, when exactly did I gave you the permission to touch your cunt?“

Clint swallowed and stopped. It was one thing to think you were allowed to do something, but obviously he had been wrong. Oh, so wrong. A tear escaped him. He hadn‘t only disappointed Sir, he had also made him angry and obviously he broke a rule he either couldn‘t see or, please don‘t let it be that, please, a rule he forgot and then…

„Clint?“, Sir… no, now Bruce suddenly asked and he felt the hand pulling out of him. He wanted it back, he could be good. He heard a tissue wrapped out of a paper. Nononono, he needed…

„I‘m sorry, Sir, sorry. Please, I‘m really sorry.“, Clint whimpered while a few tears were sliding down his cheeks. And now he was also empty and Sir would punish him by leaving him empty. They would have to stretch him again and…

„Clint, tell me, do you know what rule you broke?“

Sir, no Bruce, sounded… different. He shook his head before nodding. Better safe than sorry, right? And then he remembered that Bruce hated it when he lied about those things and shook his head again.

„Sir said no orgasm, and I didn‘t, Sir, I didn‘t come, please believe me, I was good, I didn’t come, would never without permission, but I don‘t know what I did wrong, please Sir. Whatever I did, I‘m sorry I failed you, Sir, please let me make it up to you.“, Clint started and then closed his eyes. His legs began to shake but he couldn‘t break position. And he felt even more tears running down his face. Now Sir wouldn‘t want him anymore, he couldn‘t even stay still, and it was probably a real simple thing he‘d been to stupid to remember.

Bruce pressed him down on the mattress. Clint understood, he wasn‘t worth looking at now, not even on his good days, when he‘s good, but Sir somehow enjoyed to look at him, and now he lost that, too and… then there was something warm around him and Sir directly behind him?

„It‘s okay, darling. You‘re good. You didn‘t fail me.“, Sir murmured, pressing a kiss to Clint‘s cheek and he shook his head. Nothing was good, especially not Clint. Couldn‘t Sir see it?

Bruce, his brain reminded him. Because he surely lost the privilege to call Bruce Sir. Maybe he would be able to work for it? To earn it back? He would do anything for that, he liked what they had.

„You‘re dropping, Clint. Please try to listen to me, okay? I know it‘s difficult, just try to focus on my voice now.“

He nodded, still not brave enough to move away. He didn‘t deserve this, but Bruce was warm and the blanket was warm and it felt good.

„Good, such a good boy for me. I‘ll explain, but I am not mad, you understand? That happens, I wasn‘t clear enough. And when you‘re feeling a bit better, we will talk about it, okay?“

Clint couldn‘t believe it. Bruce wasn‘t mad? He obviously broke a rule, it didn‘t matter if Clint hadn‘t understood it. It never mattered before, but Bruce wouldn‘t just explain what he did wrong, he even said it wasn‘t Clint‘s fault? That… that they would talk about it? Talking meant staying, at least long enough to explain what Clint did wrong, long enough that he maybe could beg for…

„It‘s okay, darling. Only listening, okay? There you go, such an obedient boy. What I said was that you were not allowed to pleasure yourself without permission. That involves everything where you‘re touching yourself for pleasure, not only having an orgasm. That involves stretching yourself, playing with your cock or your nipples, because that gives you pleasure. It denies you everything that gives you pleasure. You understand that, darling?“, Bruce asked, voice still low, pressing light kisses on Clint‘s neck and Clint… didn‘t knew what he should do. Bruce wasn‘t angry, was he?

„No, I‘m not, darling. There‘s no reason for me to be angry at anyone except myself. I know that it can be difficult to see the difference between an actual orgasm and pleasuring yourself. Do you want something do drink, darling? It would do you good.“

Hu. He had actually said that aloud. Okay. Drink.

„Yes, please. Head hurts.“, he croaked, but didn‘t dare to move. Bruce didn‘t liked it when he moved without permission. And if he would be good, then Bruce wouldn‘t regret being nice to him. It didn‘t prevent the whimper coming out of him when Bruce stood up. And then there was a glass of water and Bruce tried to pull him up slightly so he followed his lead. Maybe water would be good, just like Bruce promised.

„Good, now drink everything, yeah?“

He didn‘t want to admit it but the water helped more than it should. Bruce helped him to stabilize the glass, but that was it. Deep down Clint knew that Bruce only helped because he didn‘t want Clint to spill anything over himself and prevent his body from going into a shock because of the cold water. It still felt nice. And he could think more clearly. Still, his head hurt like hell. Why did it hurt so much?

„I am sorry. I didn‘t knew.“, he whispered when he had finished. Bruce nodded, stood up to refill the glass and put it on the small table on Clint‘s side.

„That‘s okay, Clint. That happens, and it‘s nothing that can‘t be talked about. You feeling better? That‘s more important now.“

Clint nodded and sunk down on the pillow again. He was tired.

„Bit. Not a nice place.“, he said, sure that Bruce would knew what he wanted to say. Bruce always understood him. Bruce actually laughed a bit, but never stopped petting him, even when he climbed back into bed next to Clint.

„Yes, I thought so. Can‘t imagine a drop being a nice thing. That‘s why were not talking about it now but later, because we don‘t want you to be stuck in the bad place too long, okay?“

Clint nodded and tried to crawl into Bruce as much as he could. He still didn‘t really… well, he felt better, but on the other hand he didn‘t. But Bruce had said they would talk about it later. Carefully, Clint rubbed his cheek against Bruce‘s chest, seeking permission to speak.

„You don‘t need permission, Clint, you can speak freely. What can I do for you?.“, Bruce whispered and pressed another kiss on Clint‘s head. God, that felt nice.

„Can I… I know you said we would talk about it later, just… I don‘t want to forget and…“, he started and blinked away the tears that were coming up again.

„What is it you don‘t want to forget?“, Bruce asked, not even resignation in his voice, even though Clint knew that Bruce knew what he wanted. Needed.

„Can I still get a punishment? To… know it‘s over or to know it‘s okay?“, he asked, voice small. He didn‘t dare to look up. He knew how much Bruce hated punishing him. He hated how much he needed one to believe Bruce that he was forgiven.

„We will talk about it later or tomorrow, okay darling? And if you still want a punishment to feel better, then we can talk about it, too.“

Clint nodded again, eyes dropping. That was a good plan. That was why he had Bruce. Bruce cared for him, no matter what Clint did. He didn‘t really deserve Bruce.

„Did I hurt you? Earlier?“, Bruce asked, voice a bit unsure. Clint tried to think about it. Sure, Bruce had just pushed his hand into Clint without any additional lube, but they had trained up for this. And it had felt so nice, knowing that this could be just a thing now.

„No. Just a bit sore. I love you.“, he whispered, slurred the words more like speaking clearly. Bruce still understood him. At least he gave Clint another kiss, this time on his forehead.

„I love you, too. Try to sleep, darling. I‘m here if you need something.“