A/N: OMG who saw Mockingjay Part 1 over the weekend? I did and I sobbed SO much afterwards! It was so perfect and so sad at the same time! :'(

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Warnings: Graphic sex. Probably the most graphic I've ever written in my entire life.

Chapter Four

Having a submissive who had never been a part of the BDSM world before now was strange to Cato. He couldn't go through things like limits and boundaries because Peeta honestly didn't know about any of it. It was a minor setback and Cato knew that the younger boy would grow to learn his limits, especially if he decided to pursue a life in permanent submission in the future.

When he asked Peeta what made him feel safe, he answered with, "Warmth." It had been the first thing to come into his head and Cato informed him that that would serve as their safe word. At least warmth was reasonable. When he asked the question to a previous submissive, he got an answer of machine guns. It served as a pretty okay safe word but was a little odd none the less.

Peeta himself didn't get a proper look into the lifestyle he had now joined until a few days later. Of course, Cato had let himself fall back into his dominant self and every so often he'd grab Peeta possessively if he was going in the wrong direction or causally touch him in ways that may have seemed inappropriate to an outsider but were actually quite muted compared to what he had planned later. Peeta found himself not minding all that much. He did sign the contract, after all, he knew what he had been in for.

Well, he thought he did anyway.

After dinner, four days after Peeta signed Cato's contract, Cato told him to go to the 'playroom'. He'd tossed him the keys and didn't make any further indication as to what he was supposed to do once he was inside. Peeta pushed through the clothes and stood in the middle of the 'playroom', waiting for Cato to arrive. His heart was beating way too fast and he felt like it was going to burst in his chest. He knew what this meant. Everything up until now had been child's play. This was where the real deal began.

When Cato came into the room, he was wearing his game face. The indifferent, placid mask that made Peeta's stomach twist with nerves.

Cato was feeling the same as Peeta. As a Dom, he shouldn't have been nervous, but as previously mentioned he had never done this with an inexperienced player before and he didn't know what the limits would be. However, he was all but obliged to find out. It had killed him to wait ten minutes before joining Peeta in the playroom but he was glad he did. The more anticipation, the greater the reaction.

The young blond stood in the middle of the room, arms hanging loosely by his sides. Cato remembered when he first saw Peeta come into his office. He had seen him in the reflection of the window. A gorgeous face matched with a beautiful body. What more could anyone ask for? Cato was shocked that Peeta was still a virgin. Surely someone would have noticed how handsome he was? No matter. It was kind of nice. He had never fucked a virgin before.

"You have permission to answer questions but do not speak otherwise, understand?" he asked.

"I understand, sir," Peeta responded. Cato liked the 'sir'. It was a nice touch.

Cato folded his arms. "Strip down until you stand before me in your underwear."

He watched the adam's apple in Peeta's throat bob nervously as he gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The thing that Cato really liked about Peeta was the fact that his body wasn't made up of complete hard muscle. He was soft in some places, like his waist and arms, but was still sturdy enough that you could feel the strength underneath.

Peeta was a little clumsy about getting out of his clothes. He nearly lost his balance twice and fumbled with the button of his jeans. It was amusing to watch but it had nothing on the moments when he peeled the garments off, exposing more and more skin. Cato was practically salivating by the time Peeta was finished, anxiously toeing the clothes away from himself.

Cato could practically see the willpower it took for Peeta to keep his arms by his sides. Insecurity wasn't hard to find, if you knew where you were looking. "You've already told me that you're a virgin but have you ever touched yourself before?" he asked.

Peeta shook his head. "No, sir," he replied.

Oh wow. Cato realized that he was in a position of owning a submissive that never even felt the feeling of even his own hands. The body before him was completely pure and clean. Untouched. Unappreciated. Deprived of the touch of another.

Well, not for long.

"I want you to understand what's going to happen tonight," Cato informed Peeta. The younger boy's blue eyes sparkled, gleaming with interest. Cato took Peeta's chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled his face up toward him. Peeta was forced to push up on his tiptoes, straining to hold eye contact with the man who now owned him. He wobbled a little but gained his footing. "You are going to cum for me and then I am going to take your virginity. Understand?"

Peeta licked his lips, the action driving Cato insane. "Yes, sir," he replied.

"Good."

Cato released Peeta and allowed his eyes to admire the smaller boy's body. His skin was pale as a glass of milk, this only adding to the whole purity image. Three things stood out against the porcelain skin: the brilliant blue of his huge, doe eyes; the soft petals of his perfect lips; and the hard tips of his small, pink nipples. Cato placed his hand on the boy's chest, able to feel his frantic heart underneath his palm. Peeta kept licking his lips nervously, his breathing harsh and shallow.

Cato stroked the boy's pale chest with his hand, remembering the morning when Peeta sat in his kitchen with his robe on and it kept parting at the top. Cato had wished to take Peeta right then, to throw him onto the kitchen table and ravish his body until he came so hard that he saw stars. The only thing holding him back was the common convention that having sex with someone after just meeting them was unethical.

The skin was so smooth, the first word coming into Cato's head being 'satin'. When his hand passed over Peeta's nipples, he heard a shaky intake of breath that made him smirk. Definitely a place to return to later.

Peeta's abdomen wasn't hugely prominent but it was definitely defined. Cato could feel the muscles underneath the skin shift with every breath Peeta took. His hipbones were noticeable but not in an undernourished sense. Cato let his thumbs stroke over the bumps thoughtfully, his fingers itching to be everywhere at once. He let his hand drag along the boy's side as he walked around him to the back. He loved this part as he knew the fear that settled into the sub's consciousness when they didn't know what was going on behind them.

He brushed the blond hairs out of the way of the nape of Peeta's neck sub-consciously while he examined his shoulders and back. They were well muscled and held strength, topped off with a little beauty spot just above the left shoulder blade. For some reason, the blemish made Cato smile and he passed his thumb over it affectionately. Peeta hunched his shoulders a little, unprepared for the sensation of hands on his back. A back which tapered off into what had to be Peeta's best feature.

"Take your underwear off."

Cato could almost hear the gulp and he forced himself to keep his game face. Peeta hooked his thumbs into his waistband and slid his underwear down his legs, trembling a little in fear and excitement. Once the garment was fully discarded, Cato smoothed his hand down Peeta's supple ass, thoughts bombarding his mind as to what it was going to feel like to hammer himself into it. Goose pimples broke out along Peeta's skin and he shivered, his breathing gone past heavy and becoming laboured.

"Turn around."

Peeta did, his eyes meeting Cato's instantly. He stood a couple of inches smaller than him but you know what they say. They make up for the inches somewhere else.

"How big are you?" Cato asked, not looking just yet to prolong the nerves Peeta was jittered with.

"I don't know, sir," Peeta responded.

Duh, Cato! Why would he ever have a reason to measure himself? Okay, well, he'd just have to find out himself now, wouldn't he?

When Cato enclosed his hand around Peeta's cock, the small boy made an alarmed noise trapped between a squeak and a yelp. The trembling increased, the fear mixing with the pleasure until he didn't know which way was up. And Cato hadn't even moved his hand yet. He was just examining what he was holding. It made Peeta feel worried. Like maybe Cato didn't like what he saw.

As if something snapped inside him, Cato grabbed Peeta's wrist-thankfully releasing his manhood in the process-and lead him to the couch that sat against the far wall. Cato couldn't wait anymore, he had to get into action before he drove himself mad. "Sit down and show yourself to me," he ordered.

Peeta looked from the couch to Cato and back to the couch again. "I'm sorry, sir, but what to do you mean?" he asked. He squeaked as Cato's hand came around him again and stroked from base to tip agonizingly slowly. Hot breath caressed his ear as Cato explained in more detail what he wanted off him. Peeta's knees wobbled and he felt a little faint.

"I want you to sit on the couch and spread your legs as far as they will go so I can see what you look like."

Peeta felt a 'why' come up on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it. Why wasn't the question. The question was what was Cato going to think when Peeta did as he was told?

Don't think about it all that much. Just do it. Quickly. Like ripping off a band aid.

Peeta did just this. He sat down on the soft sofa, the material velvet smooth against his bared skin. Taking one last push of courage, Peeta opened himself up as far as he could go until his muscles groaned in protest. Never had he ever felt more vulnerable. But why should he care about the opinion of one man? The only man to ever show him even a glimmer of interest that was why. And, unlike Peeta, Cato had the ability to end this any time he wanted. Which means if he thought Peeta was a train wreck below the belt then he could terminate everything with a flick of a hand.

Prolonged silence followed. Peeta squeezed his eyes shut, unable to meet Cato's eyes. He didn't like what he saw. Peeta could tell. Cato was going to end this as fast as it had started. He was going to-

Peeta stifled a small yelp when the warm breath that usually brushed his ear caressed the tender skin of his sex. His knees moved to lock together on instinct but were stopped by two strong hands which gripped his thighs and kept them apart. "Peeta, open your eyes and look at me," Cato ordered.

When Peeta opened his eyes, he nearly passed out. Cato was between his legs, his mouth inches away from his penis. A tiny gasp escaped him, which made Cato smirk in delight.

"Tell me Peeta," Cato said, making sure to blow as much hot air on the younger boy's privates with every word, "why hasn't a man of your age ever indulged himself in self pleasure?" It seemed like a reasonable question, since the boy was twenty one and most had their first masturbation experience at sixteen.

"It never came up, sir," Peeta replied through gritted teeth. He was fighting a losing battle against his senses, which were screaming to be attended to. Urgh, Cato had said that he wanted him to cum, why couldn't he just give him the incentive he needed?!

Suddenly the breath was gone completely and Peeta whined pitifully as Cato stood up and walked away from him. "Now you never will," Cato said. "The only person allowed to have their hands on you from now on is me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." The possessiveness in Cato's tone made Peeta feel even hotter than he already did.

Cato pulled something out of a drawer and came back to where Peeta was sitting. He reached up and grabbed a hook from the ceiling, attaching a pair of cuffs to it. "Hands." Upon instruction, Peeta's wrists flew together and held themselves out to Cato. Appreciating the instant obedience, Cato kissed the top of Peeta's right hand before cuffing them together on the hook so his arms were suspended above his head.

Okay, scratch that. Now he never felt as vulnerable.

Cato resumed his previous position between Peeta's legs, unable to deny how sexy the smaller boy looked with his arms above his head, face flushed, and his cock hard and seeping. Cato himself was impossibly hard as well but he was committed to making his sub experience his first orgasm before anything else.

Trailing his hand down Peeta's left leg, Cato grasped his calf and lifted it up, further exposing Peeta to his eyes. He knew Peeta was struggling to keep up, his breathing quick and his body shaking in anticipation and want. He propped the younger blond's foot against the edge of the sofa cushions, ordering him to hold himself that way until told otherwise. This way, he had easier access to his hole which, undeniably, he couldn't wait to fuck.

However, there was one thing he still had to do first.

Peeta was too late to catch his pleasured gasp as he felt the tongue against his entrance. Cato caught his hips when they jumped in surprise, pushing them back down against the sofa as he slowly licked him from the inside out. Peeta squirmed, unable to stay still, gasping and groaning in ways that were going to be shameful to think about later. He couldn't describe what he was feeling. He was lost in a pleasure-induced haze. The only thoughts clear in his head were, "Oh fuck," and, "Oooooooooohhhhhhhh." If Cato wasn't holding his hips down, Peeta was sure they'd be rocking against him, trying to feel his tongue go deeper.

Cato pulled away and grinned evilly when his beautiful sub moaned in displeasure. A thin film of sweat had built up on Peeta's chest and stomach, making his pale skin glisten like diamonds. A part of him wanted to keep eating his sub's delicious ass but there were more pressing things to be getting on with. He pushed his finger inside, trying to get a feel of how tight Peeta was exactly.

Answer? Superbly. Incredibly. Impossibly. Tight.

Peeta could do nothing but stare at the ceiling. He winced a little at the feeling of Cato's digit inside of him and the further he pushed in, the greater the pain. Why was he still turned on? Shouldn't the pain have switched it off? Cato was being incredibly distracting, his nose tracing paths up the lines of his hips and thighs, his spare hand tracing patterns on Peeta's stomach while the other explored his entrance.

Suddenly, the finger inside of him brushed something that sent a power surge through his body. Peeta's hips bucked upward and he yelped in shock. Cato barely glanced up but used the spot to his advantage, massaging the area before adding another finger to do the exact same thing. Peeta couldn't breathe, the abuse of his equivalent of a G-spot slowly pushing him to the edge of the proverbial cliff.

"Sir, er, I-I-I can't"-Peeta struggled to get out the fact that he was going to cum and hoped to God Cato got the message. He moaned loudly, his arms clenching in their restraints as the pressure on his neither regions became unbearable.

Cato got the message. He curled his hand around the boy's weeping member and slowly stroked him to bring him to orgasm. Peeta responded eagerly to the aid and eventually cried out as he released all over his chest and stomach.

Never had Cato ever seen anything so erotic before in his entire life.

When Peeta relaxed a little into the couch cushions, Cato stood up and said, "You're not finished yet, pet."

Oh lord in merciful heaven, what else? Peeta wondered wearily. He separated his elbows and peered through the gap to watch Cato. His eyes widened when the older man began to undress. Fuck me sideways, he thought as Cato pulled his shirt over his head to reveal a gloriously strong torso with muscled arms and a defined six pack. Peeta wondered, not for the first time, why Cato bothered himself with him.

When Cato discarded his pants and underwear, Peeta's mouth fell open in horror. How was that going to fit inside of him?! Seeing his reaction, Cato smirked. "Don't worry, it will fit," he assured him, as if able to read his submissive's mind.

It didn't put Peeta at any ease at all.

Cato sat on the couch and tightened the chain that connected to the hook binding Peeta's wrists so that his arms hitched higher above his head. He then pulled the younger boy into his lap so he was straddling him, his beautiful torso stretched because of his bound wrists. Cato was so horny right now it was almost painful and the way Peeta was looking at him with those huge baby blues of his wasn't helping.

Grabbing Peeta's butt in his hands, Cato pulled the boy down on top of his hard length. He couldn't wait to do it bit by bit and just dragged him all the way down. Peeta groaned in presumable pain, his eyes fluttering in upset as he bit his bottom lip and warded away tears. Cato was too distracted to notice, the tight heat clenched around his dick doing nothing to make this encounter as long as he had wanted it to be.

"You need to relax your muscles or it will hurt longer," Cato advised through gritted teeth.

Peeta struggled with it but eventually, a little bit at a time, was able to completely relax himself. And slowly, he began to rock. Back and forth, back and forth. His lip was still between his teeth, getting chewed to death, but the action was so beautifully coy that Cato couldn't bring himself to tell him to stop.

The fingers of his right hand still digging into Peeta's behind, the fingers of his left crawled up his submissive's stomach and chest. When Cato passed his thumb over Peeta's nipple, the younger boy grunted in surprise and accidentally slammed down onto Cato in what he thought was being too hard. Cato groaned and repeated the action, getting the same response that sent shockwaves through his body.

Peeta's arms and legs burned but he was determined to see this through. Whenever a wandering hand touched his nipples, he couldn't contain his reactions, as they were obviously a sensitive area. Could explain why they hurt so much in the winter when it was cold. Every time he nearly got into a steady rhythm, Cato either did something that threw him off or he took control and forced him to go harder, way harder than he thought would be acceptable.

"Who do you belong to?" Cato asked, his voice hissed out through grinding teeth.

"You, sir," Peeta said breathlessly. Cato pinched his nipple and twisted it. He yelped in surprise.

"Say it again."

"You, sir." The thrusts Cato was meeting him with were becoming quick paced and erratic. By this point, Cato was practically doing all the work himself. Peeta moaned every time his owner's cock brushed or pushed into his prostate, his body exhausted but screaming for more.

Cato leaned forward and licked a long trail up Peeta's torso, cutting a path through the residual semen that remained there from the boy's previous orgasm. The desire to do this was unexpected, as if he never put cum in his mouth, even when giving a blowjob. The taste was odd but not in a bad way. Cato had never tasted anything like it before and, from his track record, from what he recalled it wasn't supposed to taste all that nice.

When Peeta was hard again, it having taken some time considering the magnitude of his previous orgasm, Cato took his cock into his hand and stroked him. Peeta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut tight and unintentionally clenching around Cato, who responded with a hot moan of appreciation. Cato's lips were driven crazy by the taste of Peeta's essence and couldn't get enough of it. So while one hand continuously stroked him, the other was splayed against his back to keep his body close while he licked away the remaining cum on his sub's body.

Peeta was shuddering, his body bombarded with different sensations all at once. His arms were screaming at him to be freed but he didn't want to do it. He just felt too goddamn good. Cato's hands and mouth on his body were driving him mad and he could feel another orgasm rapidly approaching. He rocked against Cato faster, the older man matching every thrust with enthusiasm and vigor.

When it hit him, his muscles tensed up. His body lifted a little when his arms attempted to curl in on themselves and his eyes rolled behind his head, which fell back in relief as he released all over his Master's gorgeous torso. His body then went slack with exhaustion but Cato wasn't finished. The older man gripped Peeta tighter as his own end came racing forward and roughly slammed him down harder until he came inside of him. Peeta squeaked at the feeling of being filled up, already feeling some of it leaking out and dripping down his thighs. He peered at Cato through the space between his arms, blinking past sweat soaked hair to smile feebly at the older man.

Cato smirked, drinking in the sight before him. His beautiful submissive was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving to catch his breath. If it hadn't been the young boy's first ever experience, Cato probably would have kept going for a little while longer. Maybe releasing Peeta's arms and forcing him to sit on his hands and knees on the sofa while he stroked himself to the sight. There was nothing sexier to Cato than consuming the image of one of his subs, exhausted from a good, hard fuck, on their hands and knees before him with his cum leaking out of their ass. Something told him it would be that times a million for Peeta.

But it was Peeta's first time. And he had to respect that.

Cato released Peeta's arms from the cuffs and allowed the younger boy to lie against him on the couch while he got his energy back. Their sweaty bodies stuck together with the addition of Peeta's second release working as an adhesive.

"So, how do you feel?" Cato asked, stroking Peeta's wet hair affectionately.

Peeta could barely find words. "I don't . . . I can't even . . . It was . . . amazing."

"Feel any different now that you're not a virgin anymore?" Cato traced the beauty spot on Peeta's back with his fingertips absentmindedly.

"I feel . . ." Peeta chewed his lip thoughtfully. ". . . Filled up," he concluded.

Cato chuckled at the choice of wording. He slid his hand down Peeta's back and dipped his pointer finger into his backside, gathering up some cum that remained there. He pressed his finger to Peeta plump lips, smiling in encouragement when the younger blond glanced at him nervously. "Go on. This is what defines who you belong to now. Might as well have a taste."

Peeta parted his lips and took the finger into his mouth. When the inexperienced tongue swirled around the digit, Cato internally groaned and felt himself getting hard again. Fuck, the things this boy did to him. His mouth was warm and moist, just like his tight ass. The things he planned to do with that pretty little mouth . . .

"Sir?" Peeta asked once his head was settled back against Cato's chest.

"Yes?"

"How did I do?"

Cato nudged Peeta's chin up with his knuckle, forcing the boy to look him in the eye. Those blue orbs held so much depth, Cato could stare at them for hours and still be unable to decipher what exactly went on behind them. "You were perfect," he said, placing a sweet kiss against Peeta's velvet lips. He tasted himself on them and he smirked, proud of the sign of ownership. "Every sub I have had in the past has always called the safe word at least once during their first time. You did exceptionally well, seeing you were able to get all the way through. And manage to keep going after orgasming for the first time."

Peeta's cheeks heated up at the praise. "I didn't feel the need for it, sir." Honestly, the safe word had completely slipped his mind.

Cato grinned and kissed Peeta again. He slipped his tongue into his mouth, almost desperate to feel the heat of him again. Peeta's eyes fluttered and he moaned softly, palms sliding up to rest on Cato's bare chest. "Since you tasted me," Cato murmured as he tapped knee weakening kisses against Peeta's pale neck, "you might as well taste yourself as well." He then ordered Peeta to lick the cum off his body. What? He was being fair!

Peeta slid off Cato and knelt beside him on the sofa. He licked his lips again and Cato almost intercepted, finding it devastatingly hard not to have his mouth against those ripe rosy plums twenty four seven. The worst of it was that Peeta did this sub-consciously; he didn't mean to be so amorous, he just was.

When the silky touch of Peeta's tongue first touched his skin, Cato relaxed into the couch with a sigh and threaded his fingers through the younger blond's satiny locks. He couldn't believe how eager Peeta was to impress him. Maybe it was because he had doubted his ability in the beginning and it made him want to prove himself now that he was given the opportunity. Whichever way, Cato didn't care because frankly, the kid was tough and the kid was sexy. That was all he needed. And, annoyingly, his personality was beautiful as well.

"Tell me how you taste," Cato instructed.

"I'm not sure what it tastes like, sir," Peeta replied.

Well, damn, he didn't know either.

Peeta straightened up once he had finished and drew his knees up to his chest sheepishly. Cato smiled and wrapped his arm around Peeta's shoulders, drawing him closer to his body and allowing him to rest his head in the crook of his neck. There was a smudge of semen stuck at the corner of his mouth and Cato thumbed it away.

"You missed a bit," he teased, sucking it off. The unfamiliar taste fascinated him. It was a mystery to him and when it came to mysteries, he always made it his mission to solve it at the earliest possibility. Peeta flushed in embarrassment and turned his head into Cato's shoulder to hide his face.

"Sorry, sir," Peeta mumbled.

Cato nestled his face in Peeta's hair and rubbed his shoulders with his thumbs. "I like the sir," he said. "What made you decide to call me that?"

Peeta shrugged. "I just liked calling you it," he said. "Uh, sir."

Cato grinned. He loved that answer. "Well, it's what you're to call me from now on," he decided.

"Okay." Peeta smiled into Cato's neck and curled closer to him. "Sir."

"Good boy," Cato praised, lifting Peeta's face and kissing him deeply. Peeta sighed and melted into Cato, unable to deny how much he loved being controlled. Being overpowered and dominated, left completely stripped and vulnerable at Cato's hands. Normality would say that such a thing should be terrifying but, for some reason he couldn't explain, Peeta trusted Cato. Like a huge part of him knew that Cato would never abuse him or misuse the trust he placed in him.

A/N: See you next Monday! *salutes*