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Ghost shivered at the lingering touch dragging across his thighs. The air was a little chilly. It didn’t help that he was stark naked. The only warmth came from the two legs underneath his stomach, guiding his ass up. His face is pressed into the mattress.
He knows something in his brain is twisted up. Wires crossed and all that.
He doesn’t like going long stretches without missions. He equally dislikes missions that go too well. His body has somehow associated a job finished with the stinging of injury somewhere. So when everything goes smoothly and he returns to base safe and sound, he’s still jittery with adrenaline. And he doesn’t calm down until he’s properly smarting.
He knows he’s fucked up. He doesn’t need the pain to get off or anything. He’s not some masochist. He’s just… a little broken.
Price has known him since before he had to dig himself out of his own grave. Ghost trusts him with his whole being. He’s seen him shattered and swept him up with a dustpan to put him back together. He cares. He truly does.
That’s why Ghost is bent over his lap, eyes screwed shut as each impact sends hot sparks through his body.
“How many?” Price asked. His voice rumbled out of his chest like waves on a gravel shore, familiar and soothing as always. His palm was tender where it rested on Ghost’s ass, kneading the pale flesh. Ghost was completely limp and pliant, breath coming out in harsh whines. The soft blonde peach fuzz coating his thighs was raised with goosebumps. He was also hard as a rock, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.
“Eleven, sir,” he responded obediently. He felt the hand leave him and he tensed up, bracing for another hit. It didn’t come. He waited for another moment and still nothing. He turned to glance over his shoulder and question Price why he’d stopped, but–
The smack echoed in the darkened room. Ghost jolted forward as the pain flared across his ass, right at the crease of his thigh. He sucked air through his teeth and buried his face into the blankets, fists curling next to his head. Price’s hand came back down again, three more times in quick succession, each as powerful and exact as the last. Ghost could feel his skin singing with it.
Price gave him a second to relax again, hands smoothing over the irritated area. He had surprisingly soft hands, except for the calluses on his thumb from refusing to write reports in anything but pen. He squeezed and groped at Ghost’s ass, spreading it to show off the pink twitching hole hiding between the muscles.
His next spank landed a little off. Just the edge of his palm caught Ghost as he flinched. It was unsatisfying for the both of them, he could tell. Price grunted quietly and repositioned him across his lap. Ghost tried not to squirm but he couldn’t help arching his back as Price traced a trail up his spine.
“Down, boy,” his captain muttered. He pressed Ghost down with two full hands on each cheek, holding him there until he sighed shakily and relented. His head felt fuzzy and he was warm all over like he’d had a good glass of whisky.
The next slap lingered and sank in deep. Ghost knew his arse must look like a sight now, pale skin blooming pink and red. He likes to look in the mirror afterward, trace over the sensitive lines of broken blood vessels.
His thighs trembled uncontrollably as he tried to hold still. Each hit had him jerking forward and dragging his cock over Price’s hairy thigh. His chest was shuddering on each gasp, almost wheezing with it. He couldn’t get off without something warm around his dick, but with how overwhelming the pain was, it didn’t seem like such a faroff idea that he could cum just like this.
“Look at you,” Price cooed. He gripped Ghost’s ass harshly, shaking it like a dog would with a chew toy. Ghost whined at the rough treatment and how it sent white-hot pain deep into his legs. “MacTavish doesn’t even have a clue, does he.” Ghost went still at the mention of his sergeant, a strange rush running through his veins. He pushed himself up onto his shaking elbows.
“Sir–” he began, but was cut off by a much harder, longer item whipping down onto his sensitive skin. An embarrassing moan escaped from him. He knew that feeling. Price must have picked up the leather paddle while he’d been distracted. God, it fucking hurt so good.
“He wouldn’t know how to take care of you, would he,” Price continued to say, voice sickly sweet with condescension. He leaned down, smoothing over Ghost’s ass with the paddle. Ghost’s brow furrowed as the tickling pain of the hide teasing at his sensitive skin had his muscles twitching. “Maybe I should invite him over to watch. He’s a fast learner. Eager to please. Wouldn’t that be nice? Hm?”
What a thought. Johnny, sat feet away while Price spanked Ghost to heaven and hell and back. His bright blue eyes taking in everything, glued to the glowing red skin. His hands were huge, fingers thick and still somehow so clever as they took apart bombs and oiled guns.
Ghost was whimpering at this point. His mouth hung open, eyes closed as he took every hit that was given to him. The intensity started to get to him and he wriggled on Price’s lap, thighs squeezing together as his cock throbbed and begged for attention. His voice pitched up on the next strike. There was an overwhelming heat rising in him that made him feel like he was floating, higher and higher with each spank. Tears trickled down his cheeks, salty and hot. Price scooped a fat droplet up with his thumb and Ghost bowed his head as he heard him lick it off, wet and filthy.
“I’ll teach him how to take you apart,” the man promised. He slid his hand between Ghost’s stinging cheeks, rubbing at his hole before deftly palming at his length. Ghost cried out, voice whorish and raspy. The final spank, hard and hot and aimed just above his sensitive taint, had his hips bucking forward as he came onto Price’s leg.
He could swear there were literal fireworks behind his eyes. His breath hitched in his chest. His body went taught and trembled, unsure whether it should rock forward into the pressure or jump away from the too-much of Price’s hands as he worked him through it. His toes curled as the pleasure became too much, eyes squeezing shut against the onslaught of sensation. It took a long time for him to come back to earth, panting and shaking.
He was shocked at himself, mostly. He didn’t think he was that close until it surprised him and dragged him under. He didn’t have the energy to move, his mind stretched thin between the ringing in his ears and the burning on his ass. He felt Price lean back and he heard the quiet zip of pants coming undone. It only took a couple of strokes for Price to groan out his own release, painting the red, flushed skin creamy white.
Ghost floated through visions of Johnny massaging the pain out–or further in–as he drifted through the post-orgasm haze. Price was doing just that, soothing him with soft praises that he couldn’t quite understand through the blood still rushing in his head. He rolled onto his back and hissed at the sting as his backside brushed the sheets of the bed. Price lifted him under his back and knees, cradling him in his strong arms. He wasn’t small by any means and it squeezed him just right as he tucked his face into Price’s neck, cheek brushing his beard. He felt the drifting settle into a warm satisfaction as he sighed, taking in the man’s cologne until he was drunk on it. Safe and loose and aching just right.