Page 44 of Mayfly

Jude twitches when I slam the buckle down beside his head, and he turns away in disgrace because this shit has got his father written all over it.

“Don't cower away now. You're the one who thought you could take me on."

Another pathetic whine comes from deep within him, so I force his face against the desktop as hard as I can, and hold him there until it feels like his skin is burning my hand.

I push his head away, and ask, "What's this really about, Jude?" Then walk to stand behind him. "I asked you a question."

I give him another five seconds, then reach for the belt—allowing its buckle to slide along the desktop before picking it up.

I wrap half the leather around my bare hand then drag the cool metal over the back of his legs. “What is this about?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, so I whip the outside of his thigh with the belt buckle.

With a jolt, his back curves and his ass pushes off the desk.

“Tell me, Jude?”

He settles back into position, and I strike him again.

He holds a pained cry inside his mouth.

I repeat myself until his legs and ass are covered in thick, red welts. And when he still refuses to answer, I start on his calves.

“I am impressed. But I'm even more disappointed.”

I drop the belt back by his head and spit on the knuckles of my middle and fore fingers. Curling them, I rub them around the rim of his already loosened hole.

His mouth opens, and his nails claw at the desk.

I twist my wrist back and forth, drilling my knuckles deeper. And the mother fucker moans.

I lean down and spit directly on him.

With three straight fingers, I enter him again and immediately start pumping as fast as I did before.

Breathy gasps are all that come out as Jude’s chin quivers like he’s trying to speak, but has forgotten how.

I pull out, curl my fingers, then push against his rim with my knuckles until they slip inside, then tear them straight back out again.

“Fuck!”

“So you can talk?”

He remains stubborn, and after allowing at least ten seconds of silence to pass, I drop my cock between his cheeks and push my balls against his asshole.

He pushes back, and I can feel him puckering against my sack.

I shudder, and chastise myself for it.

Taking the belt again, I lean over him to wrap it around his neck. Then I feed it through the buckle so it's like a leash, and pull it taught as I straighten out.

“You have two choices. You either answer my next question. Or you can stand up and put an end to all this… But only one way will end with my cum inside you.”

Jude stretches his arms above his head and grips the opposite end of the desk.

I tug harder on the belt until I hear him wheeze.

"Are you really that sick of a fuck that you get off on thoughts of your father doing this to you?“

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