"In here, Mark," Jack purred from the bedroom.
Mark quirked an eyebrow, his boyfriend had been acting strange since he'd flown into LA. He spent a long time in the guest bedroom – very unlike him, when Mark frequently informed him that he was more than welcome in his room. On top of that, Mark had been hearing some bizarre sounds any time he walked past the guest room's locked door.
Earlier that day, he had heard strange music unlike what his boyfriend usually listened to.
"Mark~" Jack sang eagerly, "The door's unlocked, daddy."
Mark gulped audibly, Jack only ever called him Daddy when they were gaming, or when they were...
Mark approached the door and turned the knob before pushing it open. The room was pitch black, spare for a few scattered tiny candles, though they didn't offer enough light to give Mark enough clarity to see the room.
"Turn the light on, daddy," Jack's disembodied voice carried through the darkness. His voice dripped with sultry hunger, and Mark felt his mouth go dry. He reached over to the light switch and, just as he was about to turn it on, he heard Jack turn music on.
Closer by Nine Inch Nails.
Mark gulped and turned on the light, his head already swimming from such a song that he'd told Jack before made him weak at the knees.
The sight before him was truly unlike anything he could have imagined in his wildest wet dreams. Against the far wall stood a rack, with different tools of discipline hanging off the hooks. His eyes glazed over a paddle, a cane, a flogger...
His eyes continued searching and stopped on the bed, there were restraints trailing out from beneath the mattress on all four corners, and in the middle of the bed lay a towel. The man could feel himself perspiring eagerly as his mind began to take in all that he was looking upon, and all that it indicated. He was definitely not having regrets about opening up to his boyfriend a week before he'd come to visit about his eagerness to try wilder things in the bedroom. He knew Jack had a bit of a kinky streak, but goddamn.
The only bothersome part of the scene, however, was the absence of Jack. He'd called out to him, so he had to be in the room, but Mark could not for the life of him see the green-haired vixen.
"Jack, baby? Where are you?" he half-mewled and took a step into the room.
As he did so, the door behind him swung shut. Mark turned around and froze in his spot, getting his first real glimpse of his boyfriend of the day.
There, Jack stood wearing a thick studded leather collar, a matching studded leather harness and tight black leather shorts. Mark felt a lump rise in his throat that could only be competed with by the one growing in his jeans.
"Holy fuck, Jack..." he whispered, his red locks already beginning to cling to his forehead.
Jack's lips twisted into a proud smirk as he pressed back into the wall, sliding down before flicking his head forward and grinding his plump ass back up the wall, all in time with the music. "You like what you see?" he purred, biting his lip and taking a few small steps towards the taller male. "I wasn't sure exactly what you wanted, so I figured I'd give you a little taste of the works."
Mark let out a small, breathy laugh and placed his hands on the Irishman's chest, sliding them across his slick skin. He was lost for words as his brain began to swim. He could smell Jack in the air, and it made him hungry.
Jack watched his boyfriend's face and smirked as his eyes began to glaze over; he definitely liked what he saw. There was only more thing to clarify... "So baby," he hummed in the redhead's ear, "Are you my stern, firm-handed daddy? Or are you my hungry little pain slut?"
Mark's throat let out a sound that could only be described as a squeak, which Jack found more than a little amusing. He didn't seem particularly capable of providing a verbal answer, so Jack decided to take the lead. He eagerly leaned forward and slid his hands up under his lover's shirt and ran his freshly-sharpened nails down the other's back. Mark threw his head back in ecstasy and let out a guttural moan, his weight pressing urgently into his teasing partner.
"That answer's as good as any, then," Jack chuckled, and removed his hands from his lover, only to elicit a displeased whimper from the other. "You want to play, you have to earn it," he smirked as he took a step back. His expression quickly shifted though to one that was cold, authoritative. "Strip."
Mark didn't have to be told twice, his desire clouding any shred of pride he had left in his body as he eagerly began peeling his clothes off, tossing them carelessly aside.
"Good boy," Jack praised softly, grazing his sharp nails across the other's chest, barely a tickle which Mark hungrily leaned into. "On the bed," he instructed coolly.
Mark turned quickly and approached the bed, laying down on his back, which caused another chuckle emerge from Jack's collared throat. Jack walked over and looked down at the other with an almost condescending expression; "Wrong way, slut," he growled and grabbed Mark's hips, roughly flipping him only his stomach.
Mark's face flushed a red close to that of his hair as he chewed his bottom lip. He looked over his shoulder to Jack, but he wasn't there any more.
"Now then," the Irish voice swam into Mark's right ear, startling him slightly. "Do you think you can stay still for me? Or are you going to squirm?" he moved his hand toward the other's neck and dragged a single nail down the back of his neck. Mark cried out and arched his back upward, giving Jack the answer he needed, and thankfully the one he was hoping for. "That's what I thought," his smirk spread into a grin as he quickly grabbed a fistful of Mark's thick red hair and tugged it roughly. "Arms up," he instructed, which the redhead obediently complied, letting out desperate whimpers begging for more.
Jack grabbed the top restraints and swiftly tightened them around Mark's tanned wrists. "Good boy," he repeated lowly as he finished and stood from the bed, quickly swatting Mark's plump ass as he passed it. Mark cried out again and immediately pulled on the restraints, whimpering when they showed they had no give.
Jack moved out of Mark's now very limited line of sight and he could hear a clicking sound. A lighter?
"J-Jack...?" he breathed, partly muffled by the sheets and towel beneath him.
Jack walked back over and Mark felt him get on the bed. "Now, let's see what this pain slut can take," his voice was smooth and low, his accent thick.
Before Mark had a chance to question what he was about to do, his throat was erupting with deafening groans as he felt a drop of searing hot wax land and pool in the small of his back. "Fuck! Holy fuck!" he cried.
Jack let out another chuckle, this time darker. He continued to drop the wax slowly, each time tearing a cry from his lover's throat. He spread the wax across Mark's beautiful, toned back, before returning to where he had started, and allowing a long stream of hot wax to drip down into the small of his back. Mark let out cry after cry until he was a shivering, writhing mess on the bed. He bucked his hips into the soft of the bed, his back aching in a wonderful agony.
Jack stopped and shifted, placing the candle down on the bedside table after concluding Mark had enough of the wax, keen to move onto the next test of the other's threshold.
He leaned down and scraped his nails down the other's exposed sides, deeper than he had before, actually drawing blood this time. "Sing for me, little Cardinal," he snarled into his lover's ear before taking the lobe in his mouth and biting down. Obediently, Mark cried out once more. It was music to the sadist's ears. "Ready for more?" he asked after releasing the man's lobe from his teeth.
Mark let out a gentle sob and nodded, releasing words for the first time in a good long while. "Yes, sir..."
Jack felt his shorts grow tighter than they already were at his new title. It filled his head with a warm fog, but made his focus sharpen. He stood and approached the rack by the wall, inspecting the tools on display for a moment. This time, Mark could see him and watched with a mix of excitement and fear bubbling low in his stomach. He could feel his cock beneath him, throbbing almost painfully, longing to be touched. He bucked into the bed a little more while he was waiting, desperate for some kind of friction.
Unfortunately for Mark, the guest room's bed was less than stealthy, and the bedsprings squeaked under his hungry bucking. This caught Jack's attention and he narrowed his eyes as he watched his eager lover. "Are you trying to come, Mark?" he snarled, "Did I fucking say you could come yet?"
Mark let out a pathetic whimper and slowed his bucking, and Jack nodded in response. "Though, you've just made my decision much easier..." The vixen's wicked smirk returned as he pulled the cane from the rack. "My little slut wants more?" he queried, swatting the cane through the air, tearing through it and letting an audible 'whoosh' fill the room over the sound of Nine Inch Nails still playing.
Mark's eyes widened just slightly, gulping hard at the threatening sound. He licked his lips and watched Jack move closer and out of sight once more. After a brief silence and with little warning, the whoosh sounded once more, immediately followed by an unforgiving 'crack'. Mark arched his back as much as his restraints allowed, the wax on his back pulling and cracking along his skin.
"I asked you a fucking question," he growled again.
Tears welled up in Mark's eyes and he nodded deliriously; "Y-yes," he sobbed, "Please sir, I need more."
Jack's sinister, erotic chuckle sounded behind the man once more as he cracked the cane across his lover's already welting ass three more times.
Mark was to a point of literally screaming, his head swimming and his throat hoarse. He needed more, he needed release, he needed...
"Jack..."
The man in question paused for a moment, this was the first time Mark had actually addressed him by his name since they had begun their scene. He rested the cane gently across his lover's burning ass, feeling the heat radiating from it even with his hand inches away. "You alright?" he asked, his tone a little softer.
Mark groaned and tugged aggressively against the restraints, "Please, p-please I need release," he stuttered, his entire body trembling.
Jack let out a small sigh of relief, Mark was okay – just a little impatient. He moved the cane and placed it on the ground, then grabbed a handful of the other's sore, aching ass. Mark hissed weakly, his head falling forward into the sheets again. Jack snaked his other hand under his lover and gently ran his sharp nails across the tender skin of his cock. It twitched violently in response, as did the rest of Mark's body.
"Please, sir..." he whined into the fabric of the bed, "Fuck me, please..."
Jack grunted at the desperation in Mark's voice. He was so close already, Jack could feel it in his throbbing length.
He stood only for a moment and retrieved a bottle of lube he had placed on the bedside table earlier in preparation for their evening. He looked down at his nails and frowned slightly, they would definitely slice Mark up from the inside out, and not in the way that would make him mewl in pleasure.
He paused for just a brief moment, before something in his head switched on and he grinned once more. "You love being sir's little slut, don't you Mark," he whispered, one of his hands snaking up along one of Mark's arms towards the restraint. Mark nodded, and gasped as Jack wrapped his other hand around his cock and began pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. "Fuck yourself, then," he continued, and Mark lifted his head just enough to see Jack undoing one of his restraints. "Roll over," he instructed, though gave Mark little option in the matter as he roughly grabbed his hip and flipped him onto his back, eliciting another cry of pain as his waxed back and welted ass made contact with the bed for the first time. He grabbed the lube and took Mark's hand, covering it in the slick liquid. "Show sir was a whore you are, and fuck yourself."
Mark's breath hitched slightly, but he was not about to disobey an order and eagerly spread his muscular legs, keenly sliding a finger into his ass with no hesitation. Jack just watched for a moment, his hands on his lover's inner thighs, nails digging in just enough to amplify the already overwhelming sensations fluttering through Mark's body. Without needing instruction, he greedily inserted a second, and then third finger. He had been practising, it seemed, Jack thought to himself with a touch of amusement. The redhead whoreishly pumped his fingers in and out of himself, bucking and crying out when he found his sweet spot. As soon as his reaction presented itself, Jack quickly grabbed the other's wrist and looked down at him, eyes peering through now damp hair, sticking to his forehead. "I think you're ready," he hummed.
Mark nodded eagerly and removed his fingers, instinctively moving his arm back up to where it had been restrained. Jack released the other's thighs and stood, sliding off his now extra tight shorts, his own cock springing to life and slapping against his stomach. He pulled his shorts all the way off and climbed back onto the bed and positioned himself. He pressed the head of his dick against Mark's hole teasingly, torturing himself as much as his sweet submissive.
Mark groaned and threw his head back into the bed frustratedly, bucking his hips urgently; "Fuck me!" he shouted, his voice cracking.
Jack nodded in silent agreement and pushed forward, sliding his cock easily into the other. Mark let out a howl of pleasure, his body shaking as Jack slid all the way in and hit his prostate immediately. Jack knew that sound and leaned down, beginning to build a pace thrusting into Mark's body. One of his pale hands wrapped around the other's aching cock once more, while the other dragged up to stop at one of his dark nipples, twisting it experimentally.
Mark was almost screaming as Jack thrust into him, hitting his sweet spot with every buck. His pace quickened on Mark's cock and he noted as his breathing increased.
"S-sir, I'm gonna..." Mark tried to warn.
Jack smirked and could see that Mark was truly at his limit and leaned down, his face right before Mark's. "Come for me, baby," he purred before biting down hard on his lover's neck.
Mark let out a strangled moan as he came, his hot seed flicking across his stomach and Jack's chest; the tightening of muscles all over Mark's body sent Jack over the edge too, snarling into Mark's neck as he came inside the restrained redhead.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, their chests rising and falling as they both allowed their climaxes to pass. Eventually Jack slid his spent cock out of Mark and lay down next to him. He exhaustedly reached up and removed Mark's other wrist from the restraint, before sliding his hand back to rest on the other's sticky stomach.
"Good?" he asked softly, returning to his normal tone of voice.
Mark let out a surprised scoff and stared at the Irishman for a moment. "Good? I...think I saw God," Mark panted, attempting to grin his usual grin, but exhaustion making it difficult.
Jack nodded and smiled, resting his head on Mark's chest. "I'm glad," he murmured.
Mark chuckled and ran fingers through Jack's green hair, "You may need to top more often."