collaboration between Juneboi, Jezebel Jett, Lucy Rose, Sinclair Sexsmith, Sixten Black, & SJ
Content warnings: previously negotiated power dynamics, D/s, daddy/boy, penetration, begging, blow job, rough sex, gagging, trans butch characters
“It’s truly not my fault you turn me on,” Daddy says, inching toward the boy. He pulls at their shirt. “Now … what are you gonna do about it?”
They bite their lower lip and can’t look him in the eyes anymore, shrinking a little as their daddy squares his shoulders and broadens his chest. They can’t stop looking at his package, pressing against the fly of his jeans. Their hands twitch at the thought of unzipping, unwrapping, touching, tasting.
“You’re very quiet there, boy,” he began, noticing them gazing hungrily at his crotch. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” They blushed hard and licked their lips, thinking of all the things they wanted their tongue to be doing.
They’re suddenly aware of just how empty their mouth is and how hungry they are, hungry for the praise that will fall from Daddy’s lips when they finally sink to their knees, hungry for cruel words spat out from between gritted teeth.
“Your silent hunger isn’t going to get you fed.” He says reaching down pulling at their hair, eyes growing darker, “Say it.”
They look up at him asking in their eyes, then the words tumble from their lips like soft marbles, “I need your cock, Daddy.” That last word falls off their tongue like it stepped off a cliff, falling into Daddy’s rabid gaze like a vortex of clouded lust and fog.
Daddy smiles ferociously. His grip tightens, lifting them so they can focus on nothing but him. Nothing but Daddy’s cock pressing against their belly. His silence is menacing. The boy pools between their legs. “You think it would be that easy?” He shoves them lower. “Beg for it.”
They focus on Daddy’s mouth, the shape of Daddy’s cock in his jeans, their big, rough hands. They let the desire build in their pelvis like a magma pool in a volcanic crater — but not to erupt, no. That’s not their job. Their job is to be an open space, a sheath for a sword, a vacant thing that Daddy can empty into. To be a thing to use. To be a thing that needs it, even more than Daddy needs to take, to ravage, to destroy, to be an unforgivable monster.
“Please,” they start, their mouth dry. “The only thing I need is your cock. In my mouth. I can’t remember ever needing anything else. I want it. Please, I’m so hungry. I’m so needy. I’ll never need to eat again, if I can just have a taste. Please.”
They looked so fucking sweet as they said it. Desperate eyes. Pouting lip. Daddy’s cock jerked at the sight. He hoped they saw it.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” they smirked. Daddy’s hand balled in their hair and held them firm as he unzipped his jeans. The tick tick tickof the zip made the boy hold their breath.
At last, Daddy freed his cock from his straining jeans.
“Tongue out and eyes closed,” he commanded.
Their mouth fell open and eyes closed before the lull of their pulse could sprawl into its dub. The water of them rushing to meet the edge of their tongue. Breath caught in anticipation in the wonder that maybe they could get what they wanted.
Daddy looked down; the hollow of their cheeks as they sucked was so fucking tantalizing. The nerves that connected their cock to their belly to the broken metronome of their chest cried out as they stared down at those sweet eyes. That waiting vacancy of their mouth ready for the cave in, ready for the back of their throat to be raw and their jaw as sore as the ache that told them to shove it down deep, hear that praise in their whimpers that sounded like a staccato prayer only god could hear.
Daddy knew that he should finally, finally reward them, for he himself was aching to be entranced by that tongue, the one that fell so beautifully from their sweet baby boy’s mouth, so warm, and so willing. The boy’s eyes glistened, so wet and their mouth so wide as if he was already thrusting inside them.
“Please …” The boy’s voice only a whisper, before Daddy pressed his cock deeper, deeper; past the boy’s mouth, a tender pressure at the back of their throat, a soft little gag that sounded like sweet music to Daddy’s ear. He forced himself even further. Again and again, slamming into that wet cavern and the noises themselves overwhelmed him.
“Is this what you finally want? To be used by Daddy?” He only felt the movement of their mouth. A yes, of course, it was a yes. This was what they waited for.
