Cornelius had no idea how long it had been.
He had no idea how long ago it was that Solomon had tied him up and blindfolded him, before removing his touch entirely, telling him only “wait ” before leaving - the vicinity of the bed? The room? The house? The thought sent an illicit thrill up Cornelius’ spine, that Solomon would go to all this work to restrain him only to leave him there, toes curling, hole clenching, helpless in the case that anyone would walk in and find him like this; he stifled a whine and ground into the mattress just imagining it.
A chastising click of the tongue came from where Cornelius was pretty sure the door was. “Can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I? Naughty thing.” He tracked Solomon’s footsteps as they came closer, stilling only when he could feel the heat of his body at his side. “Now. Do I have to restrain that, too? Or can you behave?”
Cornelius had to work at making words for a moment before any would come out. “Think I might… might have to be restrained there, too. Sir.”
A hum. “Well, that’s alright. I suppose I can’t expect too much from a whore, can I? Certainly not from one like you.” Cornelius felt his hands untying his legs before they hoisted his hips up. “Now, stay. I’m still undecided on whether I want to let you come at all, so I wouldn’t test me if I were you.” There was shuffling with the nightstand, then Solomon’s hands were back on him, slipping on his cock ring, nestled tight around his base and balls. His cock was brutally stroked to hardness before his hips were unceremoniously shoved back down and his legs re-tied. There was a finger at his rim, which Cornelius instinctively tried to clench down on. Solomon chuckled, gently dragging it open. “Your hole’s barely been empty for half a day, and you’re already so desperate for it?”
“Yes… sir,” Cornelius managed, barely able to focus on anything beyond the tiny drags of his cock against the sheets and the touch at his hole. “Always. Always desperate for you.”
He was rewarded with a firm drag up across his hole. “Good boy,” Solomon breathed against his ear. “Always for me. Always so fuckin’ insatiable, I…” He began to suck bruises into Cornelius’ throat. “And only for me, is that right?”
Cornelius’ cock ached with the prospect of the bruises Solomon would leave behind, of wearing them like badges, of pressing into them hours after the fact with his fingers and feeling that sweet pressure, reminded of this moment, reminded that he was Solomon’s, and he had the marks to prove it.
A more painful nip at his neck brought him out of his reverie. “Is that right?” growled Solomon. “You answer when you’re asked a question.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” He arched into the thumb rubbing slow circles around his rim. “Only for you, nobody else, only you!”
“There we go,” sighed Solomon, an obscene purr at the edges of his voice. “Was that so hard?”
Cornelius buried his face into the mattress in shame. “No, sir.”
Solomon sucked one more bruise into his neck on his way back up to his ear, feeling Cornelius’ shudder with his whole body. “Some people would think me too forgiving with you, I think. The way I let you get away with everything.” He dipped the first knuckle of his forefinger inside Cornelius. “But discipline’s not how you learn, is it?” Warmth around his earlobe, followed by a flash of teeth. “It’s the wait…” His nipple, rubbed and pinched at. “…and the reward.” The rumble of promise in Solomon’s voice made Cornelius drip in anticipation, only serving to further ease the twitches of his cock against the sheets. “Those other fools think they know how to handle you. Keep you in line. But they don’t.” Solomon nuzzled at the juncture of Cornelius’ jaw. “They think if they yell at you, beat you, you’ll give them what they want. And you might. For a time. But. You wouldn’t want it. Not the way I know you can, insatiable whore that you are.” Cornelius felt a hand wriggle under him and a finger against his slit, whining at the way he knew it would come away wet. “See? You’re already soaked for me, and I’ve barely touched you. You need a firm hand, sure… but a patient one, too. Everything’s so much sweeter, including you, when you’re strung out and whining and desperate to come. And you’re so pliant like this… I could ask you to do anything and you’d agree now, wouldn’t you? Because you’re a good boy at heart. I know. You try to hide it, but you can’t hide it from me. Not that you want to now, do you?”
Cornelius could cry from how turned on he was. “No, sir,” he whined, “‘M good for you.”
“Just like that,” Solomon murmured, chuckling darkly. “You’re so good.” There was a wet finger at Cornelius’ entrance, prodding until it gave and slipping in. “And good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?”
Time blurred together for Cornelius after that in a rush of heat, pressure, of pleasure that raced up his spine in jolts. Solomon added another finger and another, teasing at Cornelius’ most sensitive places, all of it intermingled with soft commands Cornelius was only too happy to follow. “Tell me exactly how good you feel,” or “arch up for me,” or “stop rubbing against the mattress if you want to come tonight,” all followed to the letter, and all rewarded with a rumbling purr of “good boy” into Cornelius’ ear.
Eventually, Solomon’s fingers stilled in Cornelius, and ignoring his noise of protest, he ran his other hand up his spine and said, “I’ll give you a choice, Cornelius, since you’ve been so good for me. Option one: I fuck you right here, like this. Slide right in and fuck you until we both come. Option two: I untie you, you suck me off until I come and then I rim you until you cry, and only then do you get to come. And if it turns out you’re so far gone you can’t decide, I slip your plug in and give you ten strikes over my knee for your flagrant whorishness. Seems a fair punishment, hm? So, Cornelius, what’ll it be?”
No matter how hard he tried, Cornelius found he couldn’t manage to force a single word out, only pleading moans. Though he wasn’t sure what option he would’ve picked if he could speak or even think with any clarity.
“I should’ve expected as much,” said Solomon, pulling out his fingers, in the tone that Cornelius knew meant he had an absolutely devilish smirk on his face. “It’s a pity, but such behavior must be dealt with accordingly.” Without warning, the blunt end of a plug was pressed against Cornelius’ ass, and he had been prepped so thoroughly that it slid right in until his rim was snug around the base. “I hate having to punish you like this,” he said, untying his bonds, “but someone has to. And it seems that duty has fallen to me.” When one of Cornelius’ legs had been freed, Solomon tapped on his plug. “What do we say?” he asked, lowly.
Cornelius’ breath hitched. “Tha-a-aah-” Solomon had cruelly pushed at the plug- “thank you, sir.”
Soon, all of Cornelius’ limbs were free, and he was scooped up and laid over Solomon’s lap. Solomon’s right hand started rubbing at his ass and thighs while his left laid on the base of his spine, pinning him in place. They were anchors to Cornelius in absence of his sight, burning fire-hot against where he was most sensitive, and he arched into them unconsciously.
“None of that, now,” Solomon chided. “Count for me.”
His hand left his ass and though Cornelius was expecting it, he was still startled when the first strike came, right on the crease of ass and thigh. “One,” he squeaked, hole clenching and pressing the plug deeper inside him, teasing at the edge of his prostate. He whined, unable to fully stop himself from grinding tiny circles into Solomon’s thigh.
Immediately, Solomon’s hand pressed firmly on the small of his back. Cornelius sobbed in blind, hungering want. “One’d think you want to be punished, little whore,” purred Solomon. “Do you want more strikes? Is that it? Are you so insatiable that you’ll take any attention at all, even if it hurts?”
“‘M sorry, sir… feels good,” Cornelius murmured. “Need t’ come, I can’t…”
“You can.” Solomon’s hand left his back. “I gave you a choice, if you recall. But you didn’t take it, so this is what you get.” Another strike, on the other side in the same place. Cornelius dug his nails into his hands and curled his toes to stop himself from moving. “There you go,” Solomon breathed, voice dripping with honey. “I knew you could do it. Count.”
“Tw- two, sir.”
The next strikes passed in a blur. Cornelius could barely think of anything that wasn’t the sensation of the slaps or the plug in his ass, still teasing at white-hot pleasure, or Solomon’s command not to move. Three and four, in quick succession on the swell of his ass, five, after a great pause, delivered with force across the middle, six, seven, eight, nine, in a stuttering rhythm, and finally ten, forewarned by a spreading of Cornelius’ cheeks and slammed with full force squarely on his plug. At that, Cornelius’ control broke and he writhed desperately on Solomon’s lap, who chuckled softly.
“That was cruel of me, wasn’t it?” He rubbed over the warm red skin where he’d struck him; it sent jolts up Cornelius’ spine. “I’ll allow it this once, since it was my fault this time.” A pinch to the crease between ass and thigh; Cornelius groaned and squirmed. “Regardless, you took your punishment very well. I’d say it’s time for your reward, wouldn’t you?”
Cornelius’ head perked up. “I- I’d say so. Sir.”
Solomon lifted Cornelius up and back onto the bed, face up, and slid his plug out. Cornelius’ hole clenched as if to hold it in, which got a click of the tongue and a chiding “greedy” from Solomon. Cornelius flushed in shame and consciously relaxed enough for the plug to be pulled out. A rustle of clothes later, and Cornelius felt Solomon’s cock against his hole. He tried to press closer, slip it in, but Solomon’s hands pressed down on his hips to stop him.
“You’ve been so good so far, and I know you know the rules.” He squeezed Cornelius’ hips. “Ask nicely.”
“Please… sir,” Cornelius managed weakly.
Solomon paused expectantly. “Please… what?” he asked, when Cornelius said nothing else.
Cornelius made a pleading noise, high in his throat. “Please, sir, please fuck me. I’ve been waiting with that fucking plug in for so long, I’ve been hard for hours, please, sir, let me come…!”
“There we go. There’s a good boy.” Solomon rubbed his hip, soothingly. “You asked so nicely, I’m going to give you everything you want.” He pressed his cock slowly into Cornelius, both of them moaning; Cornelius could have wept from relief. “Feels so good to be in you. Kills me to have to hold back like that. But it’s what you need, isn’t it? And I’m here to give that to you.”
He squeezed Cornelius’ hips again and started a furious pace, which was the greatest relief and torture both to Cornelius, whose own cock was still trapped and straining with the need to come. Solomon paused, grinding his cock deep into Cornelius, to grab his thighs and pull them up, fucking even deeper into him; Cornelius sobbed at the feeling.
After enough of this, Cornelius’ cock was so hard it was beginning to ache, and he reached out to grab at Solomon’s hip to try and communicate what he couldn’t force out verbally. “You need to come?” Solomon asked. “Is that it?” Cornelius nodded frantically. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. I’m real close, hold on until I come, and the moment that happens, I’ll get you off, babe. Promise.” His hand dropped to the bed as he sobbed in relief. Solomon reached to hold it, thrusts getting shorter and quicker until he stilled, twitching inside Cornelius as he came. Still shivering, he reached for Cornelius’ cock, wrangling the ring off, working it with his hand, and grinding his cock inside until Cornelius, spasming in relief, came as well.
Solomon laid at Cornelius’ side, catching his breath for a moment, before slowly, gently sliding off his blindfold, damp with tears. “I’m going to go get a washcloth, okay?” he asked, stroking Cornelius’ cheek. Cornelius nodded blearily.
He floated in the aftermath for a minute while Solomon rustled around in the bathroom, and it was just as he was getting the edge of loneliness and panic that Solomon came back in, washcloth in hand. “Shh, hey, hey, it’s okay, Cornelius, I’m here,” he soothed, striding over to sit on the edge of the bed. The washcloth was pleasantly warm when it ran over Cornelius’ face and down over his body, wiping away tears and come and lube. “Wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of properly.” He reached over to the nightstand to set down the washcloth and uncapped the bottle of water waiting there, raising it to Cornelius’ lips. “Here. Drink. Small sips.” After the bottle was about a third finished, Solomon recapped it and shuffled up to wrap Cornelius in his arms. “Let me know when you’re thirsty again. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll take care of you.”
Cornelius sighed contently, warm and safe.