Page 89 of Naughty Dreams
The darkness closed in, and Pink Floyd was ready with the soundtrack. One day, one week, was much like another. Another brick in the wall.
DJ couldn’t find his way out of it. At three in the morning, he found himself standing by the bed, his heart thundering and body covered in sweat. He moved to the window and stared out at the wall, the forest looming behind it. At least he hadn’t woken screaming. He wouldn’t have minded finding Roy with him again, though.
The wind was blowing through the treetops. He cracked the door so he could feel the breeze touch his bare flesh and closed his eyes, shuddering.
He didn’t know what was worse. Knowing they were gone a hundred percent of the time, like a throbbing, open wound, or having those excruciating three or four seconds upon waking where he had to remember it all over again.
He couldn’t make any sense of it, and the more he tried, the worse he felt. He registered a draft as the bedroom door cracked. Opening the sliding glass caused a notification on the security system. He supposed one of the team was doing a visual check, and didn’t turn around.
The bedroom door closed, but whoever had looked in was still there. A deep inhale, and he knew Roy was here after all.
His bodyguard came up behind him, bringing his welcome heat. DJ didn’t say anything, couldn’t. He was filled with impossibly large feelings.
Words drifted in his head. Usually he had an idea of the music that went with them, and he’d bring it to the guys. They’d work together to flesh it out. But now there was no music. Steve, Pete and Tal had taken the music with them.
“Don’t make me feel,” he said.
Roy’s chest brushed DJ’s back, his hand clasping his cold, bare shoulder in a strong grip.
“If I know you need to feel, that’s what I’m going to give you. Kneel.”
DJ closed his eyes, a tiny sound coming from his throat, a plea or a protest, he didn’t know, but his knees buckled. Roy slowed his descent, a hand at his waist and under his arm, and got him to his knees. Once there, he tangled his fingers in DJ’s hair, tugged and held it in a bowed position.
Then he knelt behind him, his hands following DJ’s shoulders, his back, down to his hips and ass. He introduced himself to DJ’s body every time he touched him, maybe to get the info he needed as a Dom from that map.
Whatever he felt must have satisfied him, because he tunneled into DJ’s pajama bottoms and pushed them off his ass, tucking them under his heels. DJ became aware of a deep voice humming, Roy adding an accompaniment to the stroke of his hands. DJ was the instrument responding to the stimulation, offering an erotic arrangement of response.
Roy pressed his mouth to DJ’s back and curled an arm around his middle. He shifted DJ so he was face down over Roy’s lap. Roy had a pillow on it, so DJ’s cock was pressed against it,his knees on the floor on one side, his elbows on the other. Roy held DJ’s nape so his forehead was between his elbows.
“Roy…”
“Sshh.”
DJ swallowed. The tenderness was drawing the hurt up, making it hard to hold inside him. He was going to need to push up, to bolt.
Then Roy brought his hand down on DJ’s buttocks. A sweeping stroke that came in from a low point to strike the base of the cheeks. It made the taut globes quiver and sent a startling mix of discomfort and sexual response shooting through him. A breath left DJ, and his fingers dug into the polished hardwood floor. Sensation rebounded into his testicles and flooded his cock. His nipples tightened, his muscles constricted, and his heart pounded.
He’d spent the day in bed, he had deadly breath again, his hair was mussed and he needed a shower. And yet, Roy was making him feel like his only need in life was this, to submit to his Master, and brace for an arousal so strong there was no way he could resist or escape it.
Another strike, just like that one. Christ…it messed with his head. As Roy kept doing it, the sting building in intensity, the power of it rocketed through his body. DJ’s legs loosened and spread in open invitation, his hips jerking and ass rising. He couldn’t stop his reaction. His desire. His heart tried to protest, but the rest of him didn’t care.
His buttocks smarted. The heat suggested Roy was making them crimson with his broad-palmed smacks. DJ groaned in need, his aching and hard cock pressed into the pillow. “Please…”
“You’re going to come while I’m beating your ass, DJ. And then I’m going to fuck you a good long time.”
“What if I say…no? And piss off.” His struggling served no purpose. He couldn’t shake Roy’s hold. He was helpless.
“I don’t hear a safeword. So ‘no’ and ‘piss off’ just means ‘thank you, Sir’ and ‘keep going,’ doesn’t it?”
God, he loved it when Roy’s voice sounded like that. Not mean, not cruel. Just relentless, an oncoming storm. Nothing mortal could stop it. All while he held DJ without causing him any harm at all, beyond a brisk spanking.
“I want to hear it. Right now, DJ.” He reached between DJ’s spread legs to cradle his testicles. DJ bucked.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you…Sir. Please…keep going.”
“If that’s what I want. Right?”
“Yes. If that’s what you want.”
