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“So what is it you wanted to show me?” Derick grumbles out, taking a swig of alcohol. Derwin smiles. He’s invited Derick over to check out his new horror magazine he got online after hearing it had “real gore” in it. The claim isn’t exactly trustworthy, but he’s checking it out anyway and it’s just arrived, so of course he had to call up Derick to look at it with him. No point gawking at dead people on your own, right?
“Hang on,” Derwin mutters out with a grin, his speech muffled by the cigarette between his teeth as he takes the magazine out from the hiding spot he’s stored it in. His good Christian parents won’t approve if they find it. Somehow they’re fine with the swastikas, but it’s only because Derwin told them it was for a “history project.” The cigarette smoke forms a thin stream as he digs around and produces the magazine. “Voila.”
“A magazine?” Derick asks with a small, doubtful grin.
“Not just any magazine, my brother,” Derwin corrects him. “A horror magazine. With real gore.”
Derick’s eyebrows raise. “Real gore?”
“You know it. Got it off the Internet. Same place we got the, uh, bomb from.”
“The dud bomb?” Derick asks, grinning. “Yeah. Real trustworthy, man.”
Derwin shushes Derick affectionately, discards his burnt out cigarette, then opens the magazine to the first page. It’s a page of contents:
Page 3: “Carrie” Remake: Interview and Pull-Out
Page 8: Upcoming movies: Idle Hands, The Mummy, and more!
Page 14: The Real Stuff
Derwin traces a finger over the Page 14 announcement.
“The real stuff,” he says triumphantly, turning his head to face Derick. “What’d I tell you, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Derick says dismissively, shrugging. “Gotta see it first, though.”
“Right on.”
Derwin flips to Page 14 and looks at the magazine triumphantly. In front of him is a glorious and gory collage of dead bodies from all around the world, little text boxes underneath them talking about what’s happened and in which country.
“India: Man hit by train.” Accompanying the description is an image of an Indian man with half his torso missing. Derwin’s not sure where most of his scalp has gone either.
“England: Woman stabbed to death.” An image of a young woman, no older than 25, laying on a grey pavement with multiple stab wounds, a pool of blood underneath her. “Crime Scene: Do Not Cross” tape has been laid out around her.
“America: Texan man shot to death by son.” A plump man lays on a wooden floor in a house, his brains painted all over the walls.
Derick says nothing, but he nods approvingly as his eyes roam around the magazine’s pages, each death as brutal and shocking as the next. He says nothing, but Derwin knows him well enough to see that he’s impressed.
After they’ve both drunk in all the graphic sights, Derwin turns the page. The page on the right is full of more dead bodies (big surprise), but what catches his eye is the left page.
It’s an ad. A fetish gear ad. No big deal, it’s an adult magazine, they’re allowed to advertise adult products. However, what it’s advertising isn’t your run-of-the-mill vibrators or bondage wear or whatever Derwin would expect it to be. It’s a page full of masks labelled “puphoods”, collars, leashes, dog ears, insertable tails, chastity cages… The ad is titled, “Pups and Masters: How To Make Your Dog Behave.” They’re not talking about actual dogs. At the bottom it says, “For All Your Pet-Play Needs.”
“Hey, Derick, look,” Derwin says, trying to ignore the electrifying sensation that’s just ran down his body. “There’s a sex ad.” He giggles. “Pet play. Man, what even is that?”
Derick shrugs, tearing his eyes away from the dead bodies to look at the fetish gear. “I ‘unno. Looks like a kink or somethin’.”
“I know it’s a kink, y’know, but what do they actually do?” Derwin ponders. “Do they act like dogs?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Imagine collaring someone up like a dog,” Derwin says with a laugh. He pauses for a second to think. “They’re selling collars here. Look.” He points to the human sized collar- which is priced at $7.99- and turns his head to look at Derick…. but he soon realises there’s something up.
Derick’s a little flushed, his usually pale cheeks a slight shade of red, and he’s pointedly avoiding eye contact, staring at the floor in an almost guilty fashion.
“Hey, man, are you alright?”
“Fine. ‘S just… hot in here. Comin’ up to summer. Your mom should crank up the AC,” Derick mutters back, taking a short swig of vodka and grimacing.
“She’s out. Take your, uh, trench coat off then, man,” Derwin says with a laugh. “Won’t help, y’know.”
“I guess.”
Derick places his alcohol bottle down next to him and slips his trench coat off, leaving him in his slightly oversized Today Is The Day shirt.
“Hey, hey, you think that, uh, that Bible Girl is into this kinda shit?” Derwin asks, grinning. “She’s gotta be into somethin’ weird. Always happens in those kinda homes.”
Derick shrugs. He’s still flushed. “I ‘unno. Maybe.”
“Imagine collaring her up, man… walkin’ her around on a leash like a dog, makin’ her do shit. That’s funny.” Derwin pauses. “Hey, man, you got any cigarettes? I’m dyin’ for a smoke. Used up my last one.”
“Yeah, I got some,” Derick replies, a hint of relief in his voice that the subject is being changed. He digs around in his pockets and grabs a half-full pack of cigarettes and a lighter, then offers it to Derwin - he smiles at Derick gratefully and puts it between his teeth, waiting for his friend to light it for him. Derick does just that, and the two sit in brief, comfortable silence as Derwin takes a drag of the cigarette.
“Thanks, man. Hope my mom doesn’t smell the smoke,” Derwin says, smiling. Derick hums in agreement, taking another short swig of vodka. “Anyway,” Derwin continues, adjusting his glasses, “we should keep lookin’ at the magazine.”
“I liked seein’ the dead bodies,” Derick admits, his eyes drifting towards the magazine. His eyes aren’t on the bodies, though. They’re on the fetish gear ad. Derwin notices, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Yet.
“Yeah, me too, man. You liked the kink stuff too, right?”
It’s clear that Derwin is teasing. He’s not being serious. Doesn’t stop Derick from defending himself, though.
“Hey, fuck you, man. I’on like that shit. Not my thing,” Derick replies slightly angrily. “I ain’t gay.”
“What is your, uh, thing, then, Derick?”
There’s a satisfied smile on Derwin’s face. He takes a drag of his cigarette as he stares at Derick, whose pale cheeks are turning a nice shade of red for the second time that day.
“I ain’t talkin’ to you about my kinks, man! I’m not a fuckin’ fag!” Derick’s getting angrier and angrier by the second.
“Calm down, man. I was just askin’,” Derwin replies, grinning.
“Yeah, well… fuck you, man! My fetishes are boobs and pussy, there! You fuckin’ happy now?”
“Didn’t say you liked dudes.” Derwin shrugs nonchalantly and exhales. “You could collar up a girl. Bring her round with you on a leash, y’know, make her suck your dick. That kinda stuff.”
“I’m not talkin’ about this with you.”
“Sure, man.”
The two spend the rest of the afternoon gawking at the dead bodies in the magazine and scrolling through the Chinese Homepage on Derwin’s computer, but there’s a layer of tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife - or, in their case, shoot it with a gun. It’s like they’re both on edge for one reason or another… like something’s gone wrong, and now they’re both unsure how to act around each other. Derwin feels like it’s his fault for continuing with the pet-play gag. Derick feels like it’s his fault for overreacting. This overwhelming feeling of guilt for both boys is so strong they both can feel it in the air.
The thing about Derwin, though, is that he never knows when to stop.
So, a week and a half after the whole magazine fiasco, an unlabelled parcel arrives at Derwin’s doorstep. Five minutes after it arrives, Derwin frantically dials Derick’s number.
It’s a Saturday morning, and Derick’s sitting in Derwin’s bedroom, wondering what the hell is in the little brown package that’s been placed in front of the two boys.
“So what is it?” Derick asks. “Would hate to have my mornin’ ruined for nothin’.”
Derwin hums. “Patience, my brother. Let’s have a drink first. I stole some of my dad’s alcohol yesterday when he was at work.”
“Why can’t we just open it now?”
“Shh. Patience.”
Derick looks at Derwin with sullen, doubtful eyes as he takes the small bottle of vodka he carries with him out of his pocket. Trust Derick to always have alcohol on hand.
“You got your own alcohol, huh?” Derwin comments. “You always, uh, got your own, don’t you?”
“Mm. I guess.”
“I know you like vodka, dude, so I stole some vodka for you. Y’know, you don’t have to always bring your own,” Derwin says, adjusting his glasses and grabbing a bottle from under his desk. “My dad never drinks anyway. Dunno why he, uh, bought it. Says it’s not Christlike.”
“He’s a fuckin’ dork,” Derick says, warming up a little and starting to relax. “Alcohol ain’t a sin. Didn’t Jesus drink alcohol?”
“I think so. You want some?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Derwin passes the bottle and watches as Derick tries to take a small swig but accidentally underestimates the weight of the bottle, tipping way too much alcohol into his mouth. He coughs, splutters, swallows the burning liquid as it makes its way down his throat, touching at his neck in pain. He chokes for a few seconds before calming down just a little.
“Are you okay, Derick?” Derwin asks, not even hiding the wide grin on his face. “That was way too much alcohol, y’know.”
Derick glares at his friend annoyedly for a minute while his voice recovers.
“I know. Was an accident. Not on purpose,” he gets out, coughing. “Fuck, I gotta bring a shot glass next time.”
“How do you even like drinking pure vodka, man? It tastes like that hand sanitiser stuff my mom swears on.”
“I ‘unno. I like the burn, I guess.”
“You don’t want any mixers or anythin’? I think we have some Coke downstairs in the fridge. I could go get that for you.”
Derick hums. “I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Uh huh.”
“Suit yourself, man.”
“You want some?” Derick asks, offering the bottle to his friend. Derwin adjusts his glasses and shakes his head.
“Nah. Maybe later. Have some more, dude, my dad won’t care.”
“Okay.” Derick takes another swig - a normal sized one this time - and relishes in the burn. “Fuck.”
“Good?”
“I guess.”
“Have some more.”
Derick narrows his eyes but takes another swig, coughing again as the vodka makes its way down his throat.
“Anyway, you remember, uh… last week?” Derwin continues. His voice falters just a little. Maybe it’s nervousness. When Derick doesn’t say anything, he continues. “When we were lookin’ at that, uh… magazine?”
“Did you buy another issue or somethin’?” Derick asks. Derwin shakes his head.
“Nah, man. Somethin’ else.”
Derick’s eyes widen just a little, but he seems distracted too - swaying weakly and looking everywhere but Derwin. It seems he’s sort of caught on to what his friend has bought, but he doesn’t want his suspicions to be confirmed.
“What’chu buy then?”
“Open it up and see, Derick. Open it up and see.”
With slightly trembling hands- probably due to the alcohol- Derick picks up the package and slowly opens it up. His pale hands reach into the box, stay there for a minute, then carefully pull out… a human sized leather dog collar and leash.
“What the fuck’s this?” Derick asks - however, his statement has a lot less bite than it did last time. Really, he sounds more worried than angry.
“I, uh, got you a collar and leash,” Derwin says with a grin. “Y’know, cause you loved it so much last time.”
“I’m not puttin’ this on,” Derick says, dropping the leash and collar on the floor as quickly as he can. “I ain’t gay.”
“C’mon, man…” Derwin replies, almost pleadingly. “Just once? I paid $15 for both of these… put it on for the joke. Just once.”
“‘M not putting this on.”
“C’monnn…”
“No!”
“I’ll steal you another bottle of vodka?”
A pause. Derick’s clearly thinking it over, and in his tipsy state… Derwin knows he’s already won. The blond boy sighs.
“Fuck you, man... Fine. It better be a huge bottle, otherwise I’m not doin’ this.”
“It’ll be huge.”
“Jesus…” A long pause. “Sure, then.”
Derick slowly, regretfully, starts to reach for the collar, but Derwin stops him.
“Let me, man.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“You want that alcohol or not?”
Derick says nothing, but glares silently as he allows Derwin to lean forward and carefully wrap the collar around his neck, tightening it just-so. It’s oddly intimate… so silent that both boys can hear each others’ breath near their ears, Derick feeling Derwin’s fingertips ghosting around his neck and shoulders, their lips tantalisingly close, and Derwin swears he can feel Derick shiver just a little when he tightens the collar.
“See? Wasn’t that bad,” Derwin says with a grin as he leans back and admires his handiwork. Derick looks so good, he thinks, in leather. Especially when it’s wrapped around his neck. “Ya look good.”
“What are you, gay?” Derick asks annoyedly, fidgeting with the tight leather. However, acting annoyed won’t stop the quiver in his voice and the flush steadily growing in his pasty cheeks.
He likes it.
Oh my God, he likes it.
“Lemme put the leash on.”
Derick doesn’t even protest. He just sits there, placid, as Derwin leans forward again and clips on the leash, holding the end in his left hand while he fiddles with the clip in his right.
“What’s the fuckin’ point of this anyway?” Derick mutters out, but there’s no bite in this at all. He’s embarrassed. The collar hasn’t made him angry. It’s made him docile and self conscious. It’s somehow humbled him. He makes an effort not to look at Derwin, and instead opts to stare at the floor.
“Cause it’s, uh, funny. Plus I wanted to see if you liked it, y’know,” Derwin responds, not even hiding the glee on his face.
“I don’t.” There’s the slightest hint of a whimper in his tone.
“You don’t?”
“Uh uh.” Derick shakes his head insistently. Derwin decides to test the waters… to see when his friend decides it’s enough. Or, how much he’ll let him get away with.
Derwin suddenly yanks on the leash, as hard as he can, and Derick audibly chokes, frantically grabbing at his own throat as he’s pulled forward.
“Cool,” Derwin comments, acting way too normal for someone who’s just done what he has. Derick sputters and coughs, one bony finger underneath the collar in a pathetic attempt to loosen it a little. “Havin’ a little trouble breathin’ there, Derick?”
“What the fuck was that for?” Derick whines out, touching at his neck gingerly.
“Just fuckin’ around a bit, man,” Derwin replies, upbeat. “Don’t worry about it.”
“That hurt.”
“Yeah?”
Derwin grins before pulling at the leash again, harder somehow this time. Derick chokes and splutters once again… but Derwin notices something. Something in Derick’s pants.
Derick is hard. Embarrassingly hard.
“Did you like that, man?” Derwin laughs out. “You are one freaky bastard.”
“I’on like it,” Derick chokes out, “I’unno what you’re talkin’ about. Get this shit off me.” His tone is insincere, half hearted… seems to Derwin that he doesn’t really want the collar taken off.
“You’re hard, man. No explanation for that.” Derwin points to Derick’s crotch area, a smile creeping up his face.
“Why were you lookin’ there?”
“Why are you-” Another tug. “-hard?”
“‘S not my fault!” the blond boy whines out insistently. “I ‘unno, it just… happens sometimes.”
“It’s never happened around me before, Derick.” Derwin’s voice has a slight lilt to it. A lightness only heard when he’s teasing someone. When he’s amused by it. “You, uh… you like this, don’t you, man?”
Derick hums and shakes his head again.
“I can see it, dude. You like this.”
Derick still says nothing, but stares pleadingly at Derwin with those big, haunted eyes of his.
“C’mon… I’m not a fag…” the blond boy protests. “Jus’ a misunderstanding.” He’s tipsy, slurring his words ever so slightly.
“What are you gonna do about it, then?” Derwin teases. Derick lets out an embarrassed whimper.
“I ‘unno. Go home and get myself off or somethin’… takes too long for it to go down,” he mutters uneasily, not meeting the other boy’s eyes.
“Who says you’re goin’ home?”
Derick freezes. Looks up again. Derwin’s got a firm hand on the leash, and he’s grinning like a maniac as he adjusts his glasses and stares back at his friend.
“What… wha’s that mean?” he slurs out.
Derwin sighs. “Derick, man… you know, I hate to be askin’ this, but, uh… you need any help with that?”
You need any help with that?
“Help… with…?”
“You know.”
“I don’t know, man! What are you tryin’ to do?”
Derwin yanks the leash again, lurching Derick forward and towards him. They’re only a few inches apart now.
“I’m tryin’ to ask you if you want me to get you off.”
Derick’s heart rate increases by maybe a million percent, and he feels momentarily stunned. His breathing speeds up. He can’t look Derwin in the eyes.
He’s not gay. He’s not. So why the hell is he genuinely considering letting Derwin get him off? Is it the collar?
“I don’t… I’m… I’m not a fag,” Derick manages to get out, mouth dry. The collar around his neck feels so much tighter.
“Neither am I, man. We can just be two buddies helpin’ each other out, y’know? You gotta boner, I get rid of it. Nothin’ crazy, right?” Derwin murmurs. “Just this once?”
“Jus’… helpin’ each other out..?”
Fuck. He’s considering it. He’s really considering it.
“Yeah, man.” Derwin’s voice is low. “Just helpin’ each other out.”
Derick pauses, gingerly touching at his neck.
“Won’t… I’unno.. won’t your parents hear?”
“They’re out. Gone to some event thing, I don’t know.”
Fuck. Fuck. Derwin is going to be the death of him. And when he tentatively looks down… Derwin’s hard too. Maybe that’s what he meant by helping each other out.
“Just, uh…” Derwin continues. “If I’m gonna get you off… you’ve gotta do somethin’ for me, too.”
“What’chu want, then?” Derick whines out. He’s getting desperate. He’s never been this desperate before.
“I want you to suck my dick.”
Derick’s so taken aback by this that he lets out an involuntary whimper from the back of his throat. A whimper. Like a dog.
“I don’t… I’ve never…”
Derwin hums. “It’s okay. I’ll teach you.”
“I ‘unno, I… I can’t suck dick.”
“Sure you can.”
“I ain’t a fag.” Derick feels like he’s trying to fool himself more than anyone else here. He’s in a dimly lit room with his male best friend, hard, whimpering and agreeing to let him get him off, and he’s got a fucking collar on. There’s something faggy about that. That’s not normal straight boy behaviour. But he’s never been normal.
“It’s something friends do, man, y’know… you, uh, you never sucked a friend’s dick?”
Derick’s having a hard time tearing his eyes away from Derwin’s crotch as he shakes his head No. “Guess you can start today, then, huh?” Derwin giggles quietly, hand still clutching the leash.
“I ‘unno…”
“I’ll get you off after. Promise.”
Derick’s insane need to be touched overwhelms any of the disgust and guilt he might feel… so he reluctantly nods his head, almost in defeat.
“Yeah? You’re gonna do it?” Derwin asks gleefully, almost in awe that whatever plan he had has worked.
“Sure,” Derick murmurs. “But I ain’t gay.”
“Mm… sure, man. C’mere.”
They’ve been sitting on the floor since Derick arrived, but Derwin suddenly gets up and starts walking over to his desk chair.
You know, this would be all well and good if he didn’t have the leash still in his hand.
Derick, tipsy and unprepared, splutters as he’s dragged across the floor throat-first over to Derwin’s desk. He can’t stand up in time, so he resorts to crawling over on all fours - like a dog - to avoid being choked even further.
Derwin sits on the chair and pats his thigh expectantly, spreading his legs as Derick crawls up to him. He motions to in between his legs, and that’s where Derick positions himself. On his knees, in between his best friend’s legs.
“C’mon, baby. Don’t have all day, y’know.”
“I… I ‘unno how to…”
“Simple, Derick, c’mon. Undo my belt for me.” Derick, desperate as he is, quickly gets busy undoing Derwin’s belt, and he makes light work of it. He looks up at Derwin for more instructions.
“Undo my flies for me.”
Zzzzip.
Derwin’s cock is just peeking out of his underwear, and Derick shuffles Derwin’s pants down. He hooks a thin finger in his friend’s underwear and pulls, revealing Derwin’s cock. It’s slightly above average, maybe seven inches hard, and Derwin tugs at the collar expectantly.
“You know what to do, Derick.”
Derick does not know what to do.
He whines pathetically before giving the tip an unsure lick- the sound it earns from Derwin is reward enough. He gives the sides a slightly bigger lick, unsure about the salty, fleshy taste, but the groans he hears above him help spur him on to mouth the tip a little more.
“Just like that, baby…”
Derick feels like he could cum there and then. He’s brave enough to take an inch or so into his mouth, and that’s when Derwin threads his fingers through his blond hair. It’s so fucking surreal, being in his best friend’s house, sucking his dick. He’s sucking off Derwin Bold. The same Derwin Bold he’s known since 6th grade, the same Derwin Bold he’s grown to be cynical with. The same Derwin Bold he’s gotten drunk with a million times, who he’s browsed gore sites with…
That same Derwin Bold is groaning in pleasure as Derick’s lips wrap around his cock.
He starts a steady rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, up and down, and it seems like that’s the right thing to do as Derwin’s quite vocal with his reactions.
It’s not enough. Derick’s hard as diamond. He needs to be touched.
As he assimilates to the cock invading his throat, Derick finds himself slipping further and further mentally. All he knows is that he has to be good, he has to please Derwin if he wants to be touched, and God does he need to be touched. He’s so aroused it feels like he’s going to cum at the first stroke, and Derwin prolonging it and teasing him like this is driving him mad.
Derwin helps with the rhythm by pushing Derick’s head up and down in time, and Derick finds that he actually likes it. He likes the strong hand on his head, he likes the guidance, he needs to be told what to do. Like a dog.
He can’t help the drool that runs down his chin as he sucks, nor can he help the muffled, desperate whimpers that elicit such a beautiful sound from Derwin. It seems he likes it when Derick moans - maybe it feels good on his cock? - so Derick doesn’t hold back… except when he starts running out of air.
As he’s about to stop sucking to take a breath, Derwin suddenly groans.
“Fuck, fuck, Derick, I’m- mm, fuck- close.”
Before Derick can even protest, Derwin’s pulling the leash so the boy underneath gets a whole lot more of a mouthful of cock than he originally intended to. His nose is pressed up against Derwin’s wiry pubes as his heart starts racing, lips opened as far as they can to accommodate the intrusion.
Derwin starts thrusting in rapid succession now, desperately seeking his own orgasm and ignoring Derick’s needs- throatfucking him to his heart’s content as the blond boy looks up at him from on his knees. Derick would gag if the thrusts weren’t so fast. However, he’s rapidly losing air from the cock nestled down his throat, and he hopes to god the other boy cums soon. It’s an odd experience; he’s lightheaded, losing air, hard as a rock, and all the while his best friend is above him, fucking his throat with no mercy. He can’t move back, either. Derwin’s the one with the leash, and unless Derick wants to get choked again, he does what he’s told.
“Shit… fuck, okay, I’m gonna…”
This is all the warning Derick gets before Derwin’s groaning lowly and cumming down his throat with one final thrust. His cock twitches as Derick’s need for air reaches an all time high, and when he finally pulls out, Derick takes big, desperate gasps of air, coughing out his best friend’s cum. Parts of it drip down his chin, merging with the drool from before, and for some odd reason it excites him to imagine how fucked out he looks right now. He swallows whatever he hasn’t spat out or whatever hasn’t rolled down his chin.
“Bark for me, come on. Stick your tongue out.”
Derick hesitantly sticks his tongue out, showing off his cum-stained mouth to the boy above him. It’s embarrassing, stupid, humiliating… but god is it hot.
“Fuck, Derick, that was so good. You’re so good. There’s no way you haven’t sucked dick before, man.”
Derick, too horny and exhausted to speak, just shakes his head.
“You should do it more often, y’know. Shit… gonna guess you want your reward now, huh?”
A nod. Derwin grins.
“Okay. Yeah. You’re, uh… you’re gonna hump my leg like a real dog. Okay?”
Derick looks temporarily stunned, but arousal takes over all senses and he nods obediently, not entirely sure why he finds the concept of acting “like a real dog” as hot as he does. He undoes his belt and unzips his flies, pulling his pants down and wasting no time rocking his hips back and forth on Derwin’s leg.
The only sound heard in the dimly lit, stuffy room is the sound of Derick moaning and whimpering pathetically as he humps Derwin’s leg like a dog in heat, sweating buckets and begging to cum. Muffled strings of curse words escape his mouth as he rocks back and forth, back and forth, desperately chasing his well-deserved orgasm. He’s also somehow getting off on Derwin watching him. The boy above him has the biggest grin on his face as he looks down at Derick pathetically thrusting against his leg.
“God, you’re so hot like this,” he mutters. Derick barely registers it, but the small part of his brain that does register it also recognises that it gets him even more worked up. It must be obvious, because Derwin keeps talking.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot, man, ruttin’ against me like a dog. You a dog, Derick? ‘S that you?” He gives a sharp tug of the collar to prompt a response, and Derick just whimpers, staring up at Derwin with glassy eyes, and nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I knew it. Nothin’ but a stupid dog, right?” Another nod. “Should, uh, keep the collar on you all day, y’know. Keep you as my dog. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Derick? Yeah?”
Derick hums in agreement, his thrusts speeding up as he gets closer and closer to his impending orgasm.
“Yeah, yeah, knew you would, man. Knew you would since I saw you gettin’ riled up over that, uh, magazine ad. Got the collar for you cause of that… I hoped this would happen, y’know.” Derick’s panting needily, the other boy’s words like a lifeline for him. He’s paying close attention. “Always thought you had dick suckin’ lips. You’ve got such beautiful lips, man, you gotta promise you aren’t gonna suck anyone else’s dick but mine, yeah? You wanna promise that to me?”
Derick nods, rutting against Derwin’s leg enthusiastically. He whimpers in assent, just wanting- no, needing- to cum, moaning pathetically.
His whimpers increase twofold as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm, erratically thrusting against Derwin’s leg, all semblance of dignity or humility gone as he embarrasses himself like this. He doesn’t even care because shit it feels so fucking good.
Between the soft strings of curse words underneath the moans and whimpers is a chant of “please.”
“Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-“
“What do you want, Derick? Come on. Speak up,” Derwin says in a taunting manner, giggling as he watches the boy underneath him. “‘S what good dogs do, y’know.”
“Please,” Derick gasps out. “Lemme cum, please, please, please, plea… please…”
What was once a sentence descends into whimpers.
“You wanna cum?”
“Mm hm.”
“Yeah… you’ve been, uh… you’ve been good enough, Derick, haven’t you? C’mon. Cum for me.”
A few strong thrusts (as well as another leash pull) later, Derick is shaking and cumming all over Derwin’s leg with a gasp, whining like a dog as his orgasm racks his body and leaves him breathless. His cum spurts out in ropes all over Derwin’s pants while he tries to catch his breath from the overwhelming, blissful feeling.
“Fuck, man,” Derwin mutters as he watches Derick twitching and panting. “That was so hot.” The blond boy, eyes locked on the cum coating Derwin’s clothes, makes a little questioning hum- saying really? Derwin understands him. “Yeah, it was,” he answers. “So hot.”
Derwin decides to lace his hand through Derick’s hair and to start gently stroking it; it seems that he’s petting him. Really, almost like… a dog.
“You, uh, you want somethin’ to drink?” Derwin asks sheepishly, still stroking Derick’s blond hair affectionately. “There’s more of that vodka left, y’know. If ya want any.”
Derick hums amicably, shrugging ever so softly. He looks tired. “I ‘unno. Maybe. I, uh.. I wanna keep doin’ this. For now.”
“Yeah? We can keep doin’ this.” Another hum.
So that’s how the two boys spent the majority of their morning. Together, in a dark bedroom, one petting the other like a dog while the cum on both of their clothing dries. That’s a problem for their mothers doing the laundry later.