Page 24 of Savage

He is getting off on all of this.

I straighten my back again to look at him. I can see the bulge in his slacks. It’s a bit of a wonder that he’s been hard and somehow resisted fucking me immediately. The men at Ntimacy never bothered with a long game.

Then again, they were paying by the hour. Hunter has all the rest of my life to toy with me.

“Rest your head here,” Hunter says, patting his thigh.

I don’t hesitate this time. I shift so I can more comfortably kneel before him, so I can lean my head against his thigh. I look up at him, uncertain of what he expects me to do. His cock is so close—his half-hard cock, which is clearly outlined through his pants—and I have a feeling I know what’s coming.

But instead of having me take him out of his slacks and begin sucking, he starts gently stroking my hair. I tense up, wondering exactly what he’s trying to do.

“Relax,” Hunter says, still petting me and sending small shivers across my scalp. “You’re still resisting.”

I want to protest that I’m not resisting, that I’m willing to do everything he tells me, but that would be arguing. He’d see that as a sign of disobedience, and my ass burns enough as it is. I don’t want another punishment.

Instead, I close my eyes and simply rest my head there, trying to just enjoy the feeling of him stroking my hair. I’ve always loved that sensation, for all that it had been a long time since someone had done it to me.

“Good.” Hunter runs a finger across my closed eyes and wipes at the remnants of tears, then trails down to my mouth. “Keep your eyes closed. Open your mouth and hold it open.”

Of course it couldn’t have been this easy. Of course there has to be something else. I almost sob again, but I catch myself. Maybe he’s just testing my ability to obey. Maybe he’ll keep touching my hair, being gentle with me, and treating me like I’m something more than trash.

I obey, opening my mouth for him. I hear the clink of his belt buckle and the zipper of his slacks, and I can smell it when he frees his erection, that natural—and thankfully, not unpleasant—odor. I’ve definitely smelled men who weren’t this fastidious about cleanliness.

“Don’t do anything but hold your mouth open,” Hunter orders as he guides my head toward his cock.

I’d expected something like this, so it’s no real surprise. I wait as he pushes into my mouth, his semi still filling it but not nudging at my throat like a full erection might. I’m tense, though, just waiting for the order to start licking and sucking.

“Hold,” he says, stroking my scalp with one hand. “This is all you need to think about right now. You managed to be a good girl. I’m going to make you so beautiful, so perfect.”

I don’t know what to make of this. I squirm a little then try to go still, because I can tell that’s what he wants from me. I don’t understand why, but this is easier than giving him a blowjob even though the words are harder to deal with than any blowjob. I don’t know that I like being called a good girl. I don’t think I like being told he’s going to make me beautiful and perfect, either, because I don’t know what that means to him.

I don’t think I’m going to like it, and I stay tense while I try to think about what his expectations might be. Will he want a doll, someone to just fuck? What would make me flawless in his critical eyes?

The moments tick by, and his cock somehow stays only partially hard on my tongue at first. It’s uncomfortable, stretching my jaw this way, and when I try to swallow to keep the drool from sliding out of my mouth, he gives a slight tug on my hair. Message received: I’m not allowed to do that.

I peer up at him as best as I can to get a sense for his mood, and I’m shocked when I see that he retrieved his phone and is now reading something, all while his other hand continued to pet me. He’s half-ignoring me now.

I squeeze my eyes shut again and wish that didn’t bother me. Maybe I should be grateful he isn’t shoving his cock down my throat and face-fucking me.

As awful as the situation is, I get used to it after a while. I grow a little tired, even, and my eyes slide shut a bit more naturally. My jaw remains slack, drool drips down my chin, and all the aches become just simple background sensations. The bruising from the spanking, the ache in my knees and jaw—all of it fades away and is superseded by the pleasant little jolts I get when his fingers rub my scalp. I’m not even craving the usual high.

I sigh and sink a little deeper, the tension evaporating.

There’s nothing I can do.

I just need to accept this.

I’m not sure how much time passes before Hunter slowly slides his cock out of my mouth. I make a small sound, surprised and unsure.

“Shh. Well done,” Hunter says, taking my arms and urging me to stand.

I feel almost more unsteady than after the spanking. I blink stupidly at him and watch as he wipes his cock down and zips up again. He gets up, pulling me closer.

Pulling me into an embrace.

“Good job. See, that wasn’t so hard. Being good is easy.” He strokes my hair and back while I rest against his warm chest.

Being good is easy.

---