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"What are you doing here, Jack?" I demand, exasperatedly, trying not to show him how glad I am to see him. My cells react to his presence.
"Why aren't you punishing me?" He asks bluntly.
"What?"
"I'm assuming your so-called reward was leaving me to my own devices, but I got bored."
"Ah, I see," I say, feigning calm. "Baby bulldog needs a firm hand with his training?"
Jack squeezes his fists, and my lips quirk. He doesn't like that at all, yet he's still here, waiting for me to punish him. But punish him how?
"And exactly how is it that you want to be punished?" I ask, eyebrow raised.
His eyes shift down to my lap, where my cock is stirring beneath the towel around my waist. Feigning more confidence than I actually have, because honestly, I’m freaking out and way too excited about the prospect that Jack might actually want my cock. I throw back my head and bark out a laugh. “It’s not much of a punishment if you want it, is it?”
Jack continues to say nothing, his jaw clenched and flexing as he grits his teeth. I continue talking, both a play for more time and to understand Jack better. Does he want me to fuck him? I thought I'd been so over the line, expecting him to either quit or report me, but he… liked it? My cock twitches almost violently at the mere thought.
The steam from the sauna is oppressive, the effort to breathe through my arousal even more difficult. I can feel the warm wooden bench bite into the back of my thighs as I hold myself as still as possible. In this little room, surrounded by the thick cloud of steam and low lighting, I can almost make myself believe this might be a dream or fantasy.
Jack's dark hair is wet with sweat and the mist from the sauna, and his light grey eyes bore into mine. Imploring me, tempting me, daring me. He sits down opposite me, close enough that I could reach out and touch him. His legs are wide, elbows resting on his knees, so he can continue to stare at me. The silence and his lack of movement might suggest patience, but the look in his eyes is anything but.
I hold his eye contact for a while before slowly unwrapping the towel around my waist, letting it fall open. My cock juts straight up, throbbing in time with my violent heartbeat. Jack's gaze leaves mine, settling on my hard length, his eyes tracing over every inch.
My voice comes out raspy and gruff. "Get on your knees."
His eyes flash back up to mine before darting around the room, clearly trying to decide if this is what he really wants. But he fucking asked for it, and he's going to get it.
"I said on your knees, Jack. Don't make me wait."
He shifts forward, like he might comply, but the effort is too slow. One or both of us could lose our nerve at any point, but I'm too far into this to back down now. I won't be made a fool of.
He wants to be taught a lesson? I'm going to do just that. The next time he wants to disrespect me, he can remember what a bruised throat feels like.
I launch off the bench and crowd his space, my fingers raking over the back of Jack's head and gripping the hair tight, pulling so he's looking up at me.
"From now on, when you disobey a direct order, I'll make you regret it."
"And if I'm a good boy?" His question is sarcastic, but the way my cock twitches, popping him under the chin, gives me away. We both know how much I like hearing him challenge me with those words. The little shit smirks.
"Then I suppose we'll have to figure out a reward that you find acceptable, but it would be very, very hard to earn."
Jack's voice is husky, straining with the effort of pulling back against my hold. "How hard?"
A fucking rock-solid steel pipe, that's how hard.
"Don't test me, Jack." I'm barely holding myself back, still giving us both an out.
"Or what?" he challenges, eyes darkening.
My chest rumbles, my composure close to snapping. I’m already far past my threshold. I intended my threat to be a warning, assuming he’d back away from the idea of taking my cock.
My grip on his hair tightens, my other hand coming up to cup his jaw. I rub my thumb against his bottom lip, stretching it to open. He complies, and I shove three fingers in his mouth, rubbing against his tongue and hooking his bottom teeth. I pull his face towards me before grabbing my cock, spreading his saliva down my shaft before lining it up. My eyes stay locked on his as I slide my cock past his lips. I start slowly, tentatively, giving him his last opportunity to protest, but he continues to challenge me with his eyes. Once I'm about halfway in, I slowly pull out, but then pitch forward, giving him another few inches. Thrust by thrust, I give him a little more each time, keeping a close hold on my control.
When my cock hits the back of his throat, he gags. The sound revs me up even more. I expect him to start pulling back, but he doesn't, and for some sadistic reason, this disappoints me. My thrusting increases, abusing his throat until he's struggling, tears streaming down his cheeks as I use him for my pleasure. When my balls tighten and my release is close, I pull out just long enough for him to get a breath before driving back inside, holding him all the way down on my cock. His throat contracts around my cock, protesting the intrusion and being cut off from air. Jack's fists hit against my thighs, not trusting that I'll let him breathe.
Good. I want him afraid.
I can't hold back a grunt as my climax washes over me. My cock pulses, shooting streams of hot cum directly in the back of Jack's throat, and he has no choice but to swallow everything I have to give him. Only when the last drop is spent do I pull out to let Jack breathe. He sputters and coughs, leaning over like he might be sick.
