But despite the shame of it all, a part of Dex wished that, inspired by the view, Hammer would undo his own pants and make use of Dex being so helplessly bound. Maybe once he came, anger would leave his body along with cum?
Don’t be horny.
Don’t be horny.
Don’t be horny.
“We could just fuck…” he whispered, unable to hold the offer inside him when his balls filled with arousal, but as he was taking a tentative breath, the air swished, and something flat smacked his ass, making him stiffen.
“No, we could not,” Hammer said in a voice that ought to belong to the devil himself.
The second stroke made Dex’s toes curl, and he rose off the bench by the half inch his bondage allowed, while clenching his ass in panic. He wasn’t a champion of dignity on the best of days, but he wished to have that bit more of it right now.
To make matters worse, the unholy blend of feelings was making him ever-so-slightly horny. The next hit had him arching against the hard leather, but all he could think of was that his legs were spread and his ass jiggled in front of Hammer, the man of his wet dreams.
Dex should have known Hammer had the devil inside him. After all, it was part of his appeal.
But at smacks five and six, any allure this might have had at first was getting buried by the discomfort of undignified pain. Dex was an adult. His own man. How dare anyone strap him down and tenderize his ass as if it were meant for schnitzels?
“Wait… stop… I’m sorry,” he whimpered before his apology morphed into a pained cry. His skin was burning, and the man who’d set it on fire just kept going.
“Why? You just don’t learn,” Hammer said before smacking a particularly tender part at the top of Dex’s ass.
The yelp seemed to come out of Dex’s mouth without him choosing it to happen. His body tensed and relaxed in bouts beyond Dex’s control, turning him into a thrashing animal. He had to bite his lip to fight the tears pooling in his eyes when a rush of unwanted feelings tumbled in his chest at Hammer’s words.
It was true. Dex didn’t learn, acted on impulse, and was now paying for it.
He’d fucked up so bad. As usual. He should have never walked into Hammer’s cage with a brain fogged up by the need for dick. He should have listened to Frank, should have let Jag take over, and shouldn’t have gone on Grindr when he’d managed to access his phone.
He wasn’t even sure what he was embarrassed of more right now: the humiliation of another man spanking him, or deserving it in the first place for being a dumb fuck.
He pressed his injured cheek hard against the bench in hope that the pain would stop him from crying. Right now, he invited the distraction of being hit again. Anything to stop thinking about the failures in his life. His mother’s disappointed face when she found out he dealt drugs at school was a prominent image he couldn’t get rid of once it appeared in his mind’s eye.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He was in a world of his own when it occurred to him that the repeated strokes had stopped, but the discomfort and shame of it all still had him in a tight grip, so he shut his eyes and focused on the citrusy scent of the leather padding as Hammer unstrapped him from the bench in silence.
“Go on, get up,” Hammer said in a quiet voice.
Dex didn’t want to sniff, so he just let the snot drip down to his mouth as he struggled to breathe. He’d been in so many fights, but even when luck hadn’t been on his side, he’d only ever felt angry after losing. This punishment had reduced him to tears. Yet another brick of shame to this fucking day.
When he forced his body into motion and slid off the bench, the first step was like falling down an invisible flight of stairs. Dex’s knees gave, and he sucked in air as the floor sped toward him, but Hammer grabbed him by the arm and held him up with the same strength with which he’d spanked him.
“I’m sorry. About the phone. I understand my position,” Dex muttered, knowing that the fantasy ship, in which he and Hammer fucked, has sailed. He should have realized it before, but his horny brain had a way of obscuring reality. Even if Hammer was bi in some alternate dimension, Dex was a pathetic mess with snot running down his face and didn’t deserve someone like him.
He could sense the gray eyes watching him, judging everything about the pathetic picture he made, yet was powerless to improve on anything, so he stood still once Hammer steadied him. His pants were back on within a single careless move from his captor, and he was proud of not flinching when denim rubbed against tortured skin.
Hammer stepped away, only to return with some tissues, which he bundled up in one hand and rubbed all over Dex’s face, drying it without much consideration. “Glad to hear that. I trust we will work better together from now on,” Hammer said and held Dex’s shoulder, pushing him toward the exit.
Afraid of saying the wrong thing, Dex stayed silent as they walked, but the fact that Hammer’s touch still gave him a confused burst of excitement made him angrier by the second. He’d be jerking off as soon as he got the chance, because this tension was too much, and he needed to clear his head. Maybe he’d even be able to stop thinking about his aching ass for a few minutes.
The scent of coffee provided no relief when they entered Cora’s bright living room again.
“I see you got a handle on him,” she said with a smile that now seemed cruel.
“Always do,” Hammer said, making Dex’s shame worse.
“How do you take your coffee, boy?” Cora asked, putting down her mug of plain black.