David remembered the first time he visited the House of Ex. He hadn't really known what he was getting himself into, but it had come at the recommendation of (get this) an ex of his that he'd hooked up with once or twice. They'd been drinking, talking, and he'd gotten into how hot he'd found it when she took control over him in the bedroom, and it was like he'd been chasing that high ever since.
Her smile had been full of knowing, but she asked him to elaborate anyway.
But how could he explain? He had plenty of control over his life -- he made good money, he had staff that worked for him, he was socially competent and handsome enough to roll with other high-value people and intimidate anyone who wasn't. He wasn't a big guy or anything, but he was disciplined about the gym and kept himself in shape. And wasn't it thrilling that for one night, you could put yourself in the hands of someone who could just take you apart?
Someone who didn't care about any of that shit, could reduce you to your base animal instincts, who could take your sense of control away completely and force you to accept whatever happened, second to second, and love every moment.
And the women at the House of Ex could do exactly that. He hadn't asked for it -- he'd barely been able to articulate it to the woman who recommended the place -- but through interviews, surveys, research, they'd dug it out of his psyche and embodied it in a series of beautiful women who could bring him to his knees. It was addictive, giving up control in such a highly controlled manner -- no blackmail at the House of Ex, completely confidential, highly anonymous. Airtight.
So he thought.
The other thing that was occurring to him -- as he trembled in place, the inside of his mouth coated in another man's come he was forced to swallow -- is that while those women did those things to him, they never dragged him completely off the rails. In the end, most times, he was still going to ram his dick into their pussy. He was still going to feel utterly masculine and secretly in charge beneath the veneer of sharp nails digging into his balls and latex-clad thighs smothering his face. They were so completely what he wanted that a part of him always knew who held the real power, no matter what they did to him.
Now, as Daddy unhooked the bar that his wrists were attached to, and pushed him over onto his hands and knees, David realised what it was like when that part of him was taken away. He wasn't even David, anymore. He was trapped under the guise of a man named 'Ryan' who probably felt about Daddy the way he felt about those women. He was good boy, he was fucktoy, and there was nothing he could do about it until it was over.
He grunted pitifully as Daddy struck his buttplug-filled ass with a broad palm. His erection hung heavy between his legs, leaking and aching.
He couldn't even grasp the self-control he needed to stop what was happening to him. If he was being honest, there were probably multiple times he could have found a way out -- even without a safeword, even with all his struggle and head-shaking. But it was like each time there was a chance, his body was desperate to betray him. From his stubborn, unceasing hard-on, through to his raw desperation to be touched.
He felt Daddy's hand between his legs, his strong fingers closing around his balls, fidgeting with them possessively, playfully tugging.
"You've got a cute little body, pretty boy," Daddy said, his voice gravelly with an appreciative growl. "You're gonna look perfect on my cock."
David felt Daddy touch his back, and then effortlessly push him down until his chest met the mattress, arms sliding out in front of him. He lowered his hips until he felt his cock touch the soft, cool surface beneath, and he couldn't stop the relieved groan from sliding out of him. Daddy didn't pay this any mind, apparently, as David felt the cuffs at his wrists get unhooked from the bar keeping them separated. Tension coiled up his shoulders, ready to jerk his arms away, but Daddy was ready, keeping his wrists wrangled and manipulating his arms around until he could draw his hands behind him, crossed at the small of his back.
Another metallic click, and they were hooked together. David pressed his face against the mattress, further muffling a frustrated yell, which terminated in a yelp when Daddy sharply swatted his ass.
"Quit fussing," he chastised, his attention now focused on David's ankles as he unhooked the cuffs there from the spreader bar. "Or maybe I decide you don't get to cum at all. I could bind up that little prick of yours, if you're gonna be ungrateful."
That thought sent a shiver up David's spine, and seemed to throb through his cock trapped between his body and the mattress. Reflexively, he rolled his hips downwards in semi-conscious pursuit of that friction, near-whimpering at this meagre relief, only for another harsh slap to come down on his ass, followed by a laugh out of Daddy.
"I guess that could be fun too," he said. The mattress dipped around David as Daddy moved. "Watching you hump the mattress like a horny pre-teen, instead of a grown ass man. Or a dog." Another spank bounced off the other asscheek, David's body twitching in response. "A desperate animal, fucking anything it can." The next spank made David moan, and this time, traitorously, he lifted his hips up off the mattress, as if in search of the next stinging strike. "That's right," Daddy murmured, now placing his palm gently on David's raised ass, rubbing a soothing circle. "You don't wanna be those things. You wanna be my good boy."
The next slap hit the buttplug, punching a sharper groan out of David. He felt Daddy's hands on him then, pulling him aside until he felt leather-clad legs beneath him, and he realised he was now draped across Daddy's lap, ass in the air, bound wrists helplessly caught behind his back. His hard cock rubbed against those thighs, and it was all he could do to stop himself from grinding down against another man's lap.
"Let's get your ass nice and hot," Daddy murmured, barely even addressing David as he massaged David's cheeks with his hands. "Nice and pink for Daddy."
Spanking slaps came down in mediative, deliberate strokes. There was something different about these impacts than the first punishing swats that David had squirmed against to begin with -- these were slow, calculated, interspersed with kneading rubs that soothed and agitated at the same time. The toy lodged inside of him pushed against his prostate, sending waves of a deep form of arousal he never recalled experiencing before.
Each strike hurt, but David couldn't tell if his squirming was an attempt at slithering out of Daddy's lap or expressing desire for more. What he wanted more than escape or continued spanking was his cock touched, and Daddy's complete lack of interest in his erection trapped at his thighs was as agonising as the broadside of his palms striking David's raised buttocks.
It certainly didn't matter to Daddy why David struggled, or why he did anything. As he spanked him, David was left with the distinct sense that all Daddy cared about was turning his ass a pleasing shade of pink, and didn't much care what the rest of him thought about it.
The hood was stifling. While the taste of cum had finally been swallowed down, the gag did much to distort every noise David made. It made him sound both reluctant and eager, begging to stop and begging for more. His face was wet with sweat and his own prolonged blindness made it feel as though nothing in the world existed except for this bed and this man that insisted he stay in it.
He knew it completely anonymised him, and even though Daddy spoke to him, it was more like the way a person might address a particularly stupid pet -- or playfully speak to an inanimate object.
"Shh," Daddy said, which made David realise how much he'd been keening and squirming. Daddy rubbed the base of the buttplug, as if to soothe him -- or pretend at it. "Good boy."
Gently, David felt himself get pushed off of Daddy's lap, rolled onto his back with his arms trapped beneath him. The cool air prickled against his cock where it lay hard against his belly, and he felt himself flush all over at this new exposure, this new way he couldn't move, as if every new position were a new humiliation.
A splash of cold suddenly hit the tops of his thighs, trickling over the base of his cock and down between his legs. Lube, he thought, sliding slippery over his skin, and he felt Daddy use his hand to spread it around his inner thighs. Then, strong hands lifted his knees up, bending them towards his chest, and David whined around his gag at the feeling of exposure to his ass, which clenched on its own volition around the toy still lodged in there.
Expecting fingers to pry the plug loose, David instead startled when he felt Daddy continue to hold his legs in place, slightly twisted to the side, and then he felt the blunt head of Daddy's cock press against the backs of his thighs, pushing through the narrow gap created high up between his legs. The excess of lube eased the way until David had the sense of Daddy's half-hard cock nestled deep between his thighs, feeling the head of it poking out just beneath his own.
Daddy pressed David's knees further towards his chest, and slowly began moving, rubbing his hardening cock between David's thighs, a shallow and perfunctory fucking that did little for David but force him to feel without seeing just how thick and big Daddy's cock was growing. He squirmed in place but was only held down firmly as Daddy used his body to get hard on, and moaned without meaning to at the feeling of Daddy's cock grinding against his balls, and the base of his own erection.
He could just imagine the engorged head of it peeking between his thighs, greasing pre-cum on his skin. Through the leather of his hood, he could hear Daddy's shallow breathing, and without really thinking about it, he tentatively squeezed his thighs together.
This drew a lustful grunt out of Daddy, and a shiver of arousal through David.
Slickly, warmly, Daddy withdrew his cock from the squeeze of David's thighs, pushing them open. David felt first Daddy's fingers prod up between his legs, then a deep pressure as those fingers gripped the flared base of the slippery buttplug, pushing, tugging, turning. Slowly working it out of him, patient and torturous at the same time as David felt the inner walls of his own ass cling to the object, beyond his control. Them, it slid free, as dirty a feeling as he might have imagined, soothed quickly by the press of Daddy's hand.
"God, look at you," murmured Daddy, and slid two fingers inside of David without resistance. David arched his back, knees coming up to close, but were easily shoved back open wide as Daddy gently fucked him with his hand. "All wet and hot for me."
Both of Daddy's hands rested on the backs of David's thighs, up under his knees, and pressed forwards until he was bent in half, his legs spread wide enough that David felt the distinct prickle of the cool air against his opened, lube-slick ass, nerves tingling and muscles twitching. He couldn't see, but he could imagine this man -- even though he could barely imagine what he looked like -- staring down at this most intimate part of himself, his puckered asshole and lube-slick skin, and he fruitlessly struggled against the cuffs lashing his wrists together as if he could pull away, cover himself.
Also on display: his rock-hard dick, curved up from its root and brushing against his belly. No matter how much he struggled and bucked and groaned, he felt like his erection was a glowing beacon that said
yes
. Not just yes, but
please
