Magic Mouth Boy

Dear Literotica readers, thanks for the wait. This story is shorter than usual, cuter than usual but probably still not for all of you. It's D/s with trans* identified characters, so wherever the site editors have let this end up, content warning for the other half.

*****

"I understand this is your boy?" He says.

I have a boy with a mouth that gets him into trouble. Right now, it's getting him out.

The man leans against the bar, waiting to be impressed. I know he's been wondering about me since we came in. He's a big guy, towering over the short, cute boy next to me. Dark haired. I know that's my boy's thing.

"Yes, he is," I say.

I smile and shake his hand.

"Mine."

I lock eyes with my little guy. He looks so cute in that collar. He squeezes his eyes really small, looks at me defiantly. That could mean a lot of things. Usually whatever it means doesn't matter for long.

"Aren't you?"

'Damn you', his eyes say.

I stare back, a little harder. Finally, his gaze flutters to the floor.

"Yes, Sir," he grunts.

There's this twitch around his mouth that gives him away. Always. It arouses him. It gets me hot as well. The tension between us doesn't escape the big man's attention. He seems to understand a bit more why we're here.

I need my boy to be silent now and then, to stop flirting with others in public, and not scream when we play at my place. Not everybody can know about this thing. Yesterday he didn't listen. Even though having his squirming little body under me, hurting him, pushing him so far that he's unable to shut up, is the spice of life, he needs to listen. Now I'm making him pay for that. The big guy is going to have the benefit of that.

"So you're his...

Master

," he says, looking at me with curiosity.

I know what he thought when we entered the bar: what is that faggot doing with that butch?

"Looks can deceive," I tell him.

He nods, slowly. He seems to be the rare kind. One of the few that get it without the very unsexy explanations most gay men need. In slow, simple words, like talking to a toddler.

"So you're..." he starts. I put my arm around my boy's shoulder. "You are both..."

Ah, yes he is smart.

"Something like that," I say. But it's complicated. And it's not about me. "You are interested in my boy?"

"Yeah," he grins, glances at him. "He's cute. I'd like to play with him."

I smile, caress the boy, observing him, as we talk about him like he's not there. He shuffles his feet a bit, looks away, pretending not to be annoyed. I love it when he's proud like that.

"I'd recommend his mouth," I say.

My hand grabs his chin. His eyes go wide with arousal. My thumb softly touches his lower lip. I feel him breathe in sharply.

"He's a very good cocksucker."

"That's good," the man says in a low voice. "I can use some tongue."

Now he caresses the boy's hair, softly grabbing it, making him moan. I bet his shorts are a mess...

"His ass is fine as well," I say. "Stretchy. If you need it to be."

He grins a devious grin, scaring and exciting my boy. His face gets red, his jaw tenses. He wants to say things, but he can't. Chemistry. I'm loving it.

"His cunt is mine, though," I say. Some disappointment slides over the big guy's face. Ah, a connaisseur.

"And a safeword is a safeword."

"Come on, what do you take me for!" He smiles a reassuring smile.

"And I want it safe. Like, really safe. For everything. Non-negotiable. You understand?"

He looks pensive. This is where most decline the offer.

"Still a deal?"

His eyes travel up and down my boy's body. Finally, he grins a crooked grin. Nods again.

"Okay, yeah. Not gonna pass up on something like that."

I hook my finger under the boy's collar, pull him close, close enough so the man can't hear us.

"You okay with this?" I whisper. "You sure you want it, still?"

He nods. A sexy smile makes his face light up. I tell him again, pulling his body against me, that it's okay to back out. I want to be sure, extra sure.

"Really, I need this." He says, apologetically, grinning, his puppy eyes glued to mine. "Please, make me do this... Sir."

I groan softly, bite his ear. His crotch grinds against my leg. I say:

"You slut. Make me proud."

I turn to the big guy again.

"Okay," I say. "Here, you can play with my toy."

I pull him by the collar towards his new master.

"Use him however you want," I wink. "He loves being used. And he likes it rough."

That makes them both twitch visibly.

"But remember:

my

toy. Don't break it."

The big guy licks his lips, puts his hand on my boy's neck and takes him away.

I order another beer, my boxerbriefs are sticky, my mind is full of images of my boy on his knees for another man. Hot... I know he's thinking of me with that big cock in his tiny mouth, working hard for me.

I feel the eyes of the leatherclad guys on me. They saw the exchange. I wonder what they think. I scan the bar for some hints from their facial expressions. This is a place for cruising, the air thick with kink and sex. I wonder how many of them want to try my boy, now. That's not how it works, though.

I am the boss, you see.

We don't come in here to wait for someone to take him. We come here so I can pick someone for him. Just nothing beats seeing the lust surge through him when I discreetly point across the room and tell him:

"I want you to do him. Go chat him up, see if he's interested."

Then I will see his eyes travel through the room, find the guy I mean, and wordlessly tell me: 'oh yes please'. I picked the right one. I always pick the right one.

I study how he looks at men, I try to remember all the small things that tell me he likes someone. It's hard to predict, his taste is eclectic, but I'm getting a feel for it. And his eyes never lie. Those lovely, intense eyes that make my knees weak every time. Fuckin' puppy dog. My little whore.

Two familiar faces appear in the corner of my eye. My boy is glowing, his eyes alternate between intense, proud looks and embarrassed avoidance. Oh, he liked it. He might've liked it a bit too much. I bet he got off. Something I usually don't give permission for, but this time I didn't mention it. On purpose. Just to see what would happen.

"Did he listen well?" I ask.

"Horny lil' fuck you got there," the guy says, grinning from ear to ear. He shakes his head in amused disbelief. "Great mouth, great, great mouth..."

His hand plays with my boy's hair, he looks embarrassed and proud at the same time.

"He can be a little loud when fucked hard, though," he says. "Nothing a firm hand can't silence."

Oh, I want to hear all about that, tonight. I know he is loud when he cums for me... I look at my boy with a raised eyebrow. He stares back like he's saying: 'you got nothing on me!' But I know I do. Bluff.

The way home is a challenge. We can't keep our hands to ourselves but the streets are not empty enough for that, neither is the subway. When finally the front door closes behind us, we pull our clothes off each other, stumble our way into the shower. There, under the hot water, I make him tell me all the details of his dirty little adventure. I want to know what he said, did, how it felt, whether it hurt...

I

hope

it hurt. My hands travel over his wet body, trying to find traces. Marks, scratches, bruises. They turn me on. This time, he has a bite mark in his neck.

"How does your ass feel?" I ask, my face in his neck, teasing his asshole with a finger.

"Sore, Sir," he moans.

I sink to my knees for a moment and inspect his ass. The soft flesh around his hole is red and raw. I use my thumbs to see how much it stretches. He opens up so easily. The guy must've been big. I love that.

"Tell me what he meant when he said you were loud."

He's silent. I ask again, my finger slips between his pussy lips.

"Tell me, what did he mean."

"It hurt when he entered me..." he whispers. "He... was big. He fucked me really hard."

I groan, grind my body against his back. The warm water flows between us, connects us where our bodies don't touch. My finger plays with the entrance of his cunt.

"Did you like it?" I ask

I push my finger into his tight hole. He moans.

"Yes, Sir."

"How much?"

"A lot..." He blushes.

"Too much?"

He hesitates. I push in another finger. He squirms.

"Did you cum, baby boy, with that big man hurting your ass?"

"Oh god," he mutters. He drips from his cunt now, on my hand, down his legs.

"I... I am sorry. I did, I'm sorry. Fuck yes, I came."

He finally admits it. He's grinding himself on my hand now, my thumb on his clit. He blushes hard. I grab his hair, pull his head back against my shoulder. My lips are on his ear.

"Did you have permission for that, boy?" I whisper.

He moans, curses.

"You didn't. Did you?"

He can't concentrate while I'm fucking him, but I want an answer.

"I... don't know. You didn't say

anything

..." he tries.

"I didn't say you could cum, that's right," I say.

He, avoids my eyes, mutters that I'm evil, that it's not fair.

"How come I didn't hear you cum?"

"He put his hand on my mouth. Before he bit me, in the neck." He's suppressing a devious little smile there. "It just... it hurt... too good. He was fucking and biting me. That made me cum."

"You little whore," I groan.

I lick the bite mark in his neck. It is a fresh bruise, deep red, like raspberries. He sucks in his breath; it hurts. Oh god yes, I love it when he gets roughed up like that. My mouth plays with it, my tongue probes it, I graze my teeth on it. I have the irresitable urge to fit my teeth exactly where the big guy did. He jumps and cries when I bite the bite mark. It's involuntarily, I know, because his cunt is twitching around my fingers.

"Oh shut up," I grunt. "You love this."

He doesn't say anything, as I let my teeth explore his damage, create some new marks. He breathes fast, hard. My hand is getting him closer.

"I can tell you what that means," I say. "Just one more orgasm tonight."

"Oh yes," he says, desperate. "Please, please one more time."

"No." I say. I stop touching him. He looks at me, confused, a little hopeful.

"Not yours. Mine," I grunt.

I push him to his knees. Time to use that magic mouth. I ride his face, roughly, with his shoulders pushed tightly against the bathroom wall. I am too horny to be careful. When I quiet down a bit and let him suck me and bite me the way he's good at, I get close fast. Nobody can suck me off like he can. Nobody has ever made me cum with their mouth, but him. When I look down into his eyes, and his tongue swirls around my clit just right, I cannot stop it anymore.

My body rushes towards an orgasm. My knees buckle, my legs shake, I groan, grab his hair, push his mouth on me, hard. I explode on his tongue. I think of him, pushed down and silenced by that big guy, pushed over the edge by the teeth in his neck. I try not to be loud... but it's so good, so, so good.

Tonight will be difficult for him, but tomorrow that bruise will be changing color. I'll play with his used little body again, bring him to the edge, until he stops being so damn cocky and begs. And then I'll give him an orgasm that makes him faint. I'll kiss his sassy mouth until it gets him into trouble again. And it will. We both love the punishment way too much.

*****

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