A/N: Monday again! I can't believe how fast time is flying! My Christmas hiatus starts tomorrow and I'm going to be working on a Christmas one-shot that I'm hoping to get finished before the end of the week :)
Warning: MAJOR SUMT! Smut that involves nipple clamping, bondage, blowjobs and dildo use. Phew! They certainly get busy in this chapter ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
Enjoy!
Chapter Seven
Peeta found Cato's door open on Friday night. Surprised and nervous, he pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it firmly behind him. The house seemed deserted. He didn't know what to do. Where was Cato? He called his name a couple of times but got no response. Okay, this was getting weird. Peeta mounted the stairs, wondering if maybe Cato was in the bathroom or his bedroom. Nope, both where empty. Peeta stood by Cato's bed scratching his head in confusion. He knew he was supposed to do something but he didn't know what it was. He had never been very good at solving puzzles, especially ones where there was no incentive what-so-ever.
However, it did not take him long to notice that the wardrobe door was open a crack. Peeta spun on his heel and opened the door the full way, stepping inside and beginning the journey through the wall of clothes to get to Cato's playroom. Again, the door was open. Peeta felt a little foolish that he hadn't figured this out in the first place.
Cato was waiting for him. He looked all business. Standing erect with his arms crossed in front of his chest and that powerful look in his eyes. Peeta's throat dried up and he struggled to speak, instead opting for the option of keeping quiet. He smiled weakly and gestured at the door in a way that said, "Heh, I got it right eventually."
Cato didn't give him an answer to this. He didn't need to. It only took him two strides to reach Peeta and as soon as he was face to face with the smaller boy, he swept him up into a powerful kiss. Peeta melted, thankful that he hadn't done something wrong. His body pressed into Cato's and he gladly opened his mouth upon request. It had only been a minute and he was already quivering. Wasn't that sort of thing supposed to stop once he had had sex a few times?
Peeta felt his temperature rise and he moaned softly into Cato's mouth as his master's hands impatiently tugged at his clothes. He soon stood before Cato naked as the day he was born, embarrassment lost in a wave of other dominating feelings such as lust and desire.
"You're going to be a very good boy tonight, aren't you?" Cato asked, sliding a hand down the curve of Peeta's back and cupping one of his beautifully shaped ass cheeks. Cato watched his pet nod in agreement. Peeta's skin was flushed pink, his lips wet and swollen. He looked up at Cato with wondrous blue eyes, the pupils already blowing up a little in arousal. Damn, he looked hot. "I expect you to be strictly obedient, so much so that you cannot say 'no' to me, understand?"
Peeta's eyebrows furrowed but he nodded all the same. "Yes, sir."
"Do you remember your safe word?"
"Uh, warmth, sir?" Peeta replied. His breathing hitched when Cato squeezed his ass cheek in approval, his body leaning further into the older man, if that were possible.
"May I cuff you, Peeta?" Cato asked, his voice weirdly sweet.
"Um, yes?" Peeta answered, unsure why Cato was asking him this. Was it a test?
Cato proceeded to cuff his wrists together, using a chain to connect them to the ceiling. Peeta glanced upwards at his bound wrists, swallowing hard at how helpless he now was. Cato purposed another question, further confusing his restrained sub, "I am going to blindfold you now, okay?"
"Yes," Peeta replied. Oh yeah! He wasn't allowed to say no. That's what the questioning was all about. To see if he knew how to follow instructions! Okay, all of a sudden, this didn't seem too bad.
Cato slid the blindfold over Peeta's eyes, reluctant to smother the strength of the baby blues but ultimately knowing it would evoke the best reactions from his little pet. Wasting no time, Cato went to his sub's weak spot: his nipples. During their first encounter, he had noticed that they seemed to be Peeta's most sensitive area and, upon further teasing, he decided that he wanted to build a scene around them. He had never done nipple play before, since none of his previous subs had been all that sensitive there. A lot of men weren't. So Cato was greatly interested in how this would turn out.
Cato began by rubbing Peeta's pectoral muscles in a massaging motion, allowing his pet some time to uncoil and relax. Peeta breathed slowly, his skin still tinted pink but his ability to consume oxygen not as laboured. Cato captured both of his pet's velvet nipples between his fingers, grinning to himself hungrily when Peeta gasped in surprise. "Does your body belong to me, Peeta Mellark?" Cato asked.
"Yes," Peeta said breathlessly.
Cato slowly rolled the rosy buds, not asking another question for a while and allowing Peeta to believe that he was mulling something over. Peeta groaned in arousal, his head tipping back in pleasure. "Am I allowed your sweet ass whenever I want it?"
Peeta nodded rapidly. "Yes."
Cato leaned down and pressed a kiss against Peeta's left nipple. The pink tip was hard beneath his lips and he resisted the urge to suck just yet. Peeta's toes curled into the carpet and he whimpered, confused by how good this felt. "Are your nipples hard for me, Peeta?" Cato purred.
Breath escaping in a gasp, Peeta answered, "Yes!"
Cato wrapped his lips around the left nipple, taking his time to swirl his tongue around the turgid peak and suckle on the pebbled tip. The reaction this caused was amazing. Peeta groaned loudly, his hips jerking forward a little as if shocked by an electric pulse. "Do you like having your nipples suckled?" Cato asked with amusement.
"Yes!" Peeta moaned. He yelled in pleasure when Cato resumed his actions, only this time paying some attention to the neglected nipple on the other side of his chest, rubbing it between his fingers and occasionally plucking the turgid flesh.
When both nipples were satisfyingly hard, Cato asked, "Your nipples look like they baldy want to be clamped. Would you like your nipples clamped, my pet?"
"Yes," Peeta answered before he had really considered the question. He had gotten into a rhythm and barely heard Cato when he had spoken. However, he got what he deserved for not listening when the metal clamps clipped onto his vulnerable nipples. Peeta screeched in surprise, lightning bolts surging through his body in waves.
Cato stepped back for a moment and admired his pet as he squirmed on the spot. The metal clamps relentlessly pinched Peeta's abused tips, causing the boy to gasp like a fish out of water. It was clear, however, that Peeta was enjoying it. If his hard cock was anything to go by anyway.
Allowing the clamps to do their work, Cato paced around Peeta like a Spector at an art show, standing just close enough that Peeta was aware of his moving presence. The young boy squirmed and sipped air through his swollen lips, the muscles in his arms tensed in preparation for whatever sweet torture was to come next.
"Would you like me to touch you?" Cato asked, his voice condescending and teasing.
Peeta nodded before gathering his wits to answer sentiently. "Yes." A sharp gasp erupted from him as Cato spread his ass cheeks and teased his entrance before fleetingly stepping back again. Frustration sparked inside of him and he groaned in displeasure.
"Sorry, did you want me to keep going?" Peeta could feel Cato's smirk burning into the back of his head and he forced himself to swallow any cutting remark that he may have snapped out in response.
"Yes."
"What? This?" This time Cato pushed his finger inside. Without any warning and unprepared for such an action, Peeta cried out in shock and almost cummed himself right there on the spot. It took a great deal of will power to hold back and his teeth were practically crumbling away as he ground them together in a struggle to keep himself grounded. Again, just as fast as it had been there, Cato removed his finger and left Peeta sweating and trembling in shock.
"Yes," Peeta managed to grind out.
Cato looped his arms around Peeta's body, his palms greedily smoothing over the pale planes of the smaller boy's abs. Peeta's knees knocked together nervously, his trembling having taken on an impressive side of violence. He wasn't afraid, the pleasure he was feeling was weakening his system to the point where he believed he was going to lose his footing soon.
A ragged gasp leapt from Peeta's throat when Cato took one of the nipple clamps and tugged gently on it so the abused bud was forced to tug as well. "I think these need tightened, don't you?" Cato breathed in Peeta's ear, the hot air being responsible for a shiver that slithered down Peeta's spine.
Swallowing hard and remembering the rule, Peeta whispered, "Yes."
Cato tightened the clamps slowly, barely allowing Peeta to adjust to the new force of pressure. He couldn't contain his smirk as the younger boy whined in what could only be discerned as pleasure and practically fell backwards against him as his knees gave out for a moment. Cato helped Peeta regain his footing (it was either that or wait until his arms popped out of their sockets) and gave his ass a reprimanding slap.
"Tell me again, Peeta, who do you belong to?" Cato never tired of asking Peeta this question, as the answer was like music to his ears.
"You," Peeta replied, his voice breathy and heavy with arousal.
Cato pressed himself against Peeta's back, allowing the boy to feel his hard on pressed against his backside. He slipped his hand up the boy's chest and held onto his throat, not too hard so he wasn't choking him but hard enough so that his head was titled towards the ceiling. Then, with his spare hand, Cato proceeded to take Peeta's stiff cock and pump him slowly from base to tip. The strain this put on Peeta made his knees weaken again, however this time he did not fall. Peeta moaned, unable to help himself from expressing his approval.
"Your body belongs to me, doesn't it?" Cato said, his voice firm.
"Yes," Peeta gasped. Cato stroked him again, much faster this time. Peeta's body practically sang in approval.
"I will do with it what I want, won't I?"
"Yes."
"You're my little pet, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"You're a whore as well, aren't you?"
Peeta almost couldn't believe himself when he nodded frantically. "Oh yes," he purred, his mind lost in the euphoria caused by Cato's hand stroking his manhood.
"But you're my whore, understand?" Cato demanded possessively.
"Yes." Peeta was perfectly content and comfortable admitting all of this out loud. In fact, admitting that he was Cato's whore even turned him on. The name calling made him feel hot under the collar and he almost wanted to be insulted further. The questioning process went on for quite a bit and Peeta was almost proud of himself for being able to hold in an orgasm for so long. However, it wasn't long before he slipped up. It was because the question threw him off guard and he accidentally answered honestly before thinking about the rules Cato had put in place.
"You're beautiful, aren't you?"
"No."
It was simple as that. Peeta realized his mistake immediately but didn't know how to fix it. He couldn't say yes now, it was too late, besides, he didn't believe it. Why would Cato ask him that anyway? Did he run out of sexual questions or something? Or was that just a question he asked all his subs when torturing them?
Immediately, the sweet touches stopped. Cato stepped away from Peeta, pleased that he had been finally able to get him to slip up. The restrained boy whined, missing the feeling of Cato's hands on his body already. Cato unhooked Peeta's wrists from the ceiling and led him to the bed. Hands still cuffed together, he pushed the boy onto the mattress and said, "Present your ass to me."
Peeta pushed himself up onto his knees, his body shuddering as he realized what was about to come. His blood heated up in excitement and his heart raced, no longer remorseful that he had made a mistake. Cato spanked him for his mistake. Peeta moaned in appreciation of every strike, eventually begging Cato for forgiveness when his skin grew too tender. It didn't take him long to realize that being spanked wasn't the whole punishment. It was only the beginning.
"Turn onto your back and lift your legs in the air," Cato demanded.
Peeta flipped awkwardly onto his back, his backside whimpering in pain as it came in contact with the mattress, and obediently lifted his legs into the air. Cato just stood there for a while, admiring the naked form of his pet in such a submissive position. He then climbed onto the bed and chained Peeta's ankles to the ceiling, knowing full well that no one would be able to hold their legs in their air on their own for more than five minutes, tops.
Cato retrieved a dildo from his drawer of toys and lubed the tip up. "You've been a very bad boy, Peeta," he said, "now you must learn what it costs to disobey me."
Peeta shuddered in longing. He wanted this, desperately.
"Do you want me to punish you?" Cato asked.
"Yes!" Peeta replied, aware that the hard tip pressing against his entrance was not Cato's but a toy instead. When it pushed in, he mewled in pleasure, his hips lifting off the bed in approval when it brushed his sweet spot. However, when no thrusting occurred, confusion flushed through him like a tidal wave.
Fingers traced his lips and Peeta jerked in shock.
"Such pretty lips," Cato mused, teasing the plump contours of Peeta's lips with his fingertips. Wait, if he was up here then what was down . . . ? Peeta parted his lips to sip in a lungful of air and his master used the opportunity to slip his fingers inside. "And such a warm mouth." Unsure of what else to do, Peeta closed his lips around Cato's digit and sucked on it like a lollipop.
A moan rumbled in Cato's chest and he stroked Peeta's tongue when it tentatively inched closer to swirl around his fingers. Peeta was in heaven. Albeit a weird heaven but heaven none-the-less. His body was singing with desire, the dildo up his ass making him feel fulfilled. He knew he was pushing Cato by sucking on his fingers but he couldn't help it. He was past the point of rational thought and was acting on autopilot, doing the first thing that came into his head.
"So many possibilities to punish such a lovely mouth with," Cato said seductively, unclipping one of the nipple clamps, since they had been on for such a long time, and rubbing the flame red peak to soften it out a little. He repeated the action with the other nipple, listening to Peeta's heavy breathing as the relief of being freed of the torturous clamps flooded him. It was a shame they couldn't stay on longer. "Would you like to know your punishment?"
Peeta could only nod, since Cato's fingers where still in his mouth.
"You're going to please your owner by sucking his cock," Cato purred.
Peeta swallowed hard. He had never given a blowjob before, what if he did it wrong? He watched apprehensively as Cato unzipped his jeans and let his straining member burst free. The idea of the magnificent member entering his mouth made Peeta groan, his back bowing as the dildo rubbed his sweet spot again.
Cato pressed his tip against Peeta's lips and the smaller boy parted them obediently, taking the whole length into his mouth without complaint. He didn't have a gag reflex, either that or he just wasn't feeling it yet. Cato moaned, the moist warmth of Peeta's mouth around his cock feeling unbelievable.
Unsure, Peeta tentatively ran his tongue along Cato's length. His owner moaned again, his fingers sliding into Peeta's blond curls in approval. Peeta took this as encouragement and did it again, licking the soft skin of Cato's cock like it were a lollipop. Cato began to thrust into his mouth, the action making Peeta's mind whirl as he basked in the feeling of being marked. He shifted his upper body a little, the action making the dildo press into him again. He moaned around Cato's manhood and the vibrations caused the older man to groan and fist Peeta's hair tight.
Peeta had gotten into a rhythm by now. He was enjoying having his mouth fucked by Cato. Giving a blowjob had always been something he didn't think he'd like doing but the possessive way that Cato claimed his mouth made his cock twitch and his body restless.
Something clicked and his wrists fell apart. Peeta frowned. "Grab the dildo and fuck yourself with it," Cato grunted. "I want to see you unravel."
Peeta was taken aback. What was he supposed to do? How could he . . . ? He blindly reached between his legs and grabbed the toy with a sweaty hand. Peeta gently pulled it out and pushed back in. It pressed against his prostate and he mewled in pleasure, his back arching like a cat as ecstasy seized his being.
Thankfully Cato was doing most of the work on his own by now in regards to his own pleasure as Peeta struggled to do both at once. Cato stared at his pet intensely. Legs in the air, back arched, perfect lips wrapped around his dick, Cato was again amazed by how this one boy affected him so much. He wanted to fuck him blind yet get to know him as well. These conflicting feelings where something he had never felt before.
Peeta came with a cry, his body going limp as his semen coated his body. Now that he had been satisfied, the younger boy focused his attention more finely on Cato, tightening his lips around his cock and sucking harder than before. Cato was on a collision course with cumming and he just managed to pull out before his pleasure exploded in the form of milky white cum. Some of it splattered Peeta's face and chest, the sight having to be one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen.
He was saying that a lot recently, it seemed.
"Did you enjoy being punished, Peeta?" Cato asked, not letting the boy see him having to sit down on the sofa in exhaustion.
"Yes," Peeta answered, not needing to heed the rule to answer this.
"And what did you learn from it?"
"Never disobey you. Always follow instructions."
Cato smiled. "Good boy. You can pull the fake cock out of your ass, if you want."
Peeta shivered as he slid the toy out of himself and blindly tossed it to the side. "May I be released, sir?" he asked meekly.
"No, I think I'll leave you like this for a while," answered Cato. He sat back and smirked when Peeta groaned, the muscles in his legs beginning to strain delightfully. "I'll let you down if you admit, out loud, that you were wrong when you said you weren't beautiful."
"Sir, I don't think I can"-
"Of course, I could just take a nap and leave you like this to ponder over your decisions," Cato interrupted.
A pause.
"Warmth."
Cato blinked, surprised. "What?"
"You heard me: warmth. I'm not doing it," Peeta said.
Cato couldn't believe that Peeta would rather call the safe word than admit out loud that he was beautiful. Unable to deny him the right to be freed, Cato unchained Peeta's ankles from the ceiling and tugged the blindfold away from his eyes. Peeta blinked to adjust to the sudden light and sat up, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.
Cato sat beside Peeta on the bed. "So, are you going to tell me why you can handle all of what I just put you through but will call the safe word when asked to admit that you're beautiful?"
"I just don't do that," Peeta said. "I'm don't have any inclination towards lying to myself. I appreciate that you find me attractive, Cato, but don't expect me to accept this in any shape or form."
Cato found this odd. However he didn't push the point. He had six months to discover why Peeta was so coy about his appearance. For now, there were more pressing matters to be attending to. He leaned forward and sealed their lips together. Peeta sighed into his mouth and closed his eyes. They lay down at the same time, ready to lose themselves in each other all over again.
~T~
As soon as Peeta's eyes took in the name of the store, his stomach bottomed out in fear. He spun on his heel with every intention of walking in the opposite direction, but bumped into Cato who had been standing over shoulder like the grim reaper. Placing his strong hands on the smaller boy's shoulders, Cato turned Peeta around and steered him towards the store's entrance.
"Is this really necessary?" Peeta demanded, trying to dig his heels into the unforgiving concrete of the shopping mall's floor. "I've already got so many of my own, I don't need any more."
"Yours are unflattering," Cato stated. "Trust me, I'm doing you a favour."
Cato walked around Peeta and took his wrist, leading him into the store by hand. Peeta wanted to shrink away or melt into a puddle as he followed Cato, wishing he could stride as confidently as his owner did. "I don't need designer underwear, Cato," Peeta hissed, trying not to meet the gaze of any of the store's other customers. "Seriously, I don't need you to buy me stuff."
"This is for my benefit, not yours. I'm sick of looking at those baggy boxers you wear and thinking of the wasted potential," Cato said, weaving around the various stands. It seemed they were heading to the very back of the store.
"Wasted potential of what? The Calvin Klein underpants line?" Peeta frowned.
"No, of your ass," Cato deadpanned. "A backside like yours shouldn't be hidden by baggy boxers. It should be accented, displayed, complimented."
Peeta's cheeks flamed as they came to a stop at the very back, where the changing room curtains lay. "I don't see how it matters since you're going to be the only one who sees it," he pointed out sheepishly. The back of the store displayed the male equivalent to lingerie in the form of backless briefs and silky, almost transparent shorts.
"What size are you anyway?" Cato said, thoughtfully stroking the silky material of a pair of shorts.
"I'm not wearing those," Peeta replied.
Cato raised his eyebrows. "You will if I tell you too."
"But there's no point in them!" Peeta protested. "You can see right through them!"
"Maybe I want to see right through them," Cato answered, his voice low. "Maybe I want to be able to see your sexy ass whenever you're around the house while I work. Maybe I want to be able to see what's mine. Besides, you'll like the material, it will feel like a silk pillow cupping your cock and balls."
Peeta flushed. He looked around fearfully, worrying that the other customers could hear Cato speaking so openly.
"Will you relax?" Cato chuckled. "I'm the master of secrecy, do you think I'd be talking like this if I thought we were in any danger of being found out?"
"I suppose not," Peeta answered. "But can you please stop talking like that? You're making me nervous."
Amused, Cato asked in a seductive voice, "Do I make you nervous often, Peeta Mellark?"
Peeta reluctantly shrugged. "A little."
Cato smirked. "Good."
"You get off on that don't you? The nerves and the anxiety?" Peeta asked, folding his arms in hope to make himself smaller. Places like this . . . he didn't fit into places like this. He wasn't rich or well-off. He couldn't afford the sorts of things they sold here, that's why he'd never step in a designer store in a million years. He wouldn't even dare think about it. It was like the restaurant all over again. People were looking, they had to be. Wondering what Merchant trash was doing wandering around a store like this one.
Cato studied him with curious eyes. "Not when you're nervous for the wrong reasons," he answered. "You know, I learned a long time ago that if you worry about what other people think of you then you'll never live the life you want to." Peeta looked at him with a confused frown, unable to understand why they were having such a philosophical conversation in a store selling designer underwear.
"But you wouldn't understand that, would you? You've had nothing to worry about," Peeta answered.
"Having nothing to worry about and being worried are completely different things," Cato replied. He slid a pair of the shorts off the rack and pressed the garment into Peeta's hand. "Stop worrying about everyone else and focus on yourself. That's an order."
"I'm still not wearing this," Peeta said.
Cato smirked. "The way I see it, you have two options: 1) wear the underwear and ultimately accept that I will always find a way to exploit your sexiness whether you like it or not or 2) suffer the consequences."
"What are the consequences?" Peeta challenged.
Cato's eyes seemed to almost light up in delight at being asked. "I haven't decided yet but whichever way I chose it will involve you tied up, bent over, hard and completely at my mercy."
Peeta narrowed his eyes skeptically. He knew Cato wasn't lying, there was enough evidence of that, but could he really bear wearing something so . . . provocative? He almost couldn't handle being out in public in skinny jeans or even glancing at himself in the mirror when he was in his underwear. How could he possibly wear . . . wear . . . that?
"I couldn't pull it off," he meekly replied.
"You haven't tried," Cato reminded him.
Peeta rolled his eyes but knew that Cato wasn't going to give in. He groaned and threw the curtain to one of the changing rooms back, storming into it and pulling it back around so Cato couldn't see the underwear until he did. While in the changing room, he held the shorts up to the light. Damn, they were practically transparent!
Peeta toed his shoes off and kicked them into the corner of the cubicle. He tugged his jeans down and glanced forlornly at his reliable baggy boxers. He could practically hear Cato picking more and more lingerie off the racks, as if this were going to turn into an 80's movie where he came out in different types of racy knickers until Cato decided that he liked one of them and gave him a cheesy double handed thumbs up.
Or Cato just decided to get them all.
Peeta's heart skipped a beat at the thought.
The shorts did feel nice against his skin, Peeta reluctantly admitted to himself as he pulled them up. "Isn't there like a hygiene policy where you aren't supposed to try on the underwear?" he called out to Cato.
"Hardly matters, since we're going to be buying them anyway," Cato called back.
Peeta poked his head out of the curtain. "Then what am I trying them on for?!"
"Well, you charged into the cubicle before I could say anything and besides, it wouldn't do you any harm to get a feel for what you'll be wearing for the foreseeable future," Cato said.
Peeta scowled unhappily. "You might as well come in and see what you think then," he muttered bitterly, stepping away from the curtain to let Cato in. Cato happily joined him, confirming Peeta's suspicions by carrying an armful of other forms of underwear that didn't look practical in the slightest. "I don't see the use in any of this. Isn't the whole point of this arrangement that most of the time we're together there will be no need for underwear?"
Cato chuckled. "The way you put it, it sounds like slavery. I'm not planning on fucking you senseless 24/7. For one thing, it's extremely unethical. For another, I don't think you'd have the stamina for it. Besides, am I fucking you now?"
Peeta clenched his jaw and re-folded his arms. "I suppose not," he said.
"And what day is it?"
"Saturday."
"If your statement were true, would we even have time for activities such as shopping if our arrangement were how you so boldly described?" asked Cato.
Peeta reluctantly conceded. "I guess not."
"Look, I know you're still trying to get to grips with all of this-really, I do-but one of the first things-maybe one of the most important things-you need to remember is that you are not a sex puppet or puppy or slave. You're my submissive. The thin between slave and submissive is thick and widely spaced. A slave has no rights, you have many. A slave has no say, you have your safe word. I could go on but I feel you've gotten the idea."
"You supposed right," Peeta muttered. Trying to move away from the topic of slaves, he stepped back and put his hands on his hips. "So, what do you think?"
Cato also stepped back and examined Peeta's small frame with a critic's eye, lingering particularly on the young boy's package, which the skimpy underwear lovingly hugged. "Perfect," he concluded. "However, they may be a little too distracting. Especially since you'll most likely be wearing them when I'm trying to work
"Why don't you just have me round when you don't have to work then?" Peeta asked, sheepishly tugging the shorts back off. "Then you wouldn't have anything to worry about."
Cato moved closer to Peeta, caging him against the wall. Peeta held his breath, the smooth plastic of the wall cold against his bare skin. He met Cato's eyes and chewed anxiously on his lip, wondering what had caused the sudden change of character. "Because then I'd only have you for one day a week," Cato explained. He leaned forward and captured Peeta's bottom lip with his own, tugging it out from between his teeth and chewing on it himself. Peeta's eyes fluttered and a soft moan slipped out, the sound thankfully tame and quiet. "And that simply won't do."
Cato stepped back and smirked at Peeta, who was flushed and leaning against the wall for support. No matter how much he tried to hide it by hurriedly pulling his boxers back on, Cato had seen how his cock had gotten semi-hard during the fleeting interaction.
"You sort yourself out and I'll go pay for these," Cato said. He slapped Peeta's ass playfully before leaving him to his devices in the cubicle.
Peeta touched his face, which was burning like hot coals. He was growing accustomed to Cato's ways but the question still remained of whether he'd be willing to stay once the six months were up. He still had a lot of thinking to do.
A/N: I noticed that when I posted my schedule at the end of the most recent chapter of Puppet Strings I wrote 'November' instead of 'December' for my Christmas hiatus. I'm sure you guys knew what I mean though, since I've been posting throughout November and December :-)
Please R&R with your thoughts!