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Minty giggled. “Your face. You look so surprised!”
I blinked rapidly, feeling the size of it—small, flared base, indicating a slender plug; probably a model I was familiar with from the store—and I tugged lightly. It pulled right out. Yes, it was a model Iknew. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but Minty took it from me and tossed it onto the floor. “I’ll clean it later,” he murmured. “I took care of things down there before you came to pick me up, just in case. So, yeah, surprise.”
I slid two fingers in easily, laughter choking me as I said, “Aren’t you always?”
Minty twisted his hips, taking me to the base of my fingers, and nodded. “Minty Surprise. I should, um, that’s good. Right there. Fuck.” His eyes rolled back, and then he panted out, “I should figure out a performance art piece with that title. It can involve Peppermint Patties or, ah, fuck, that’s sogood.”
“Or?” I encouraged, both amused and curious to see what he’d say—but also the sadist in me had awoken, and the game of making him talk while I fingered him, working his prostate and his rim, was too much fun to resist. “Go on.”
“Peppermint Patties, or, um, candy canes? Oh, God, that could be dirty, yeah? A Christmas performance piece.”
“Who’d see it, baby?” I whispered. “I don’t think the campus police are gonna let you fuck yourself with a candy cane on the sidewalk outside the UC.”
“No, probably not.” He gasped in pleasure, his hips jolting up. “But can you imagine the tips I’d make?”
I laughed again, twisting my fingers before pulling out and adding a third. I didn’t really need to prep him so well. Minty was accustomed to taking a cock without lube, but I wanted this to be a smooth ride for both of us. I worked him open more, asking him questions, helping him design a concept for his candy cane Minty Surprise performance—which, in the end, sounded more like a porn scene than anything else.
When his thighs were shaking and his hands were clenching and releasing where he’d left them crossed at the wrist above his head, I grinned at the power I felt rising inside. I loved giving this kind ofsweet torment too.
“I want to call you something,” Minty whispered, his hips shuddering with restrained lust, and his hard cock slick at the crown with pre-cum. “Ineedto call you something.”
“Luke’s not good enough?”
He shook his head. “It’s okay for a date, but now, like this…ah, this is…you’re killing me.”
“What do you want to call me?”
I could tell he had a pet name in mind, but was shy to say it. I didn’t know how I felt about that either as it’d been ages since I was involved with someone who wanted to give me a pet name. With Benji, it’d only ever been Luke when I wasn’t Sir.
I worked a fourth finger into him as he hesitated to answer. “Want to take a fist?” I whispered, kissing his inner thighs, and then his balls.
“Fist?” he panted. “Tonight?”
“No, not tonight.”
“Mm, I could take it tonight,” he said, reaching down to stop my hand from withdrawing, touching my wrist, and peering at me with wide, hot, needy eyes. “I could. I’d be so good at it. I’d open up for you.”
“I know you would,” I said, pulling his hand free of my wrist and kissing the fingers. “Put your hands back above your head.” It wasn’t an order, I didn’t use my Dom voice, but he obeyed anyway.
“When?”
“WhenIwant to,” I said. “And only if you tell me the name you want to call me. It can’t be Sir. Not when we’re like this. Times like these are separate, different.”
Minty’s breathing came so fast, his chest so flushed, I was worried he’d pass out before he told me, and if he had, I wouldn’t have been sure if it was from pleasure or the worry that I’d reject his chosen name.
“It’s not Sir,” he whispered. “But we’ve used it in play, and—” his hips jolted again, and he gasped. “That’s, that’s a lot,” he moaned. “That’s going to make me come.”
“Mm, no, you won’t,” I said it easily, but I was dominating him without meaning to. It’d been a long time since I had a sub who brought that out in me so effortlessly. “Tell me.”
“I…I’m embarrassed to say.”
An inkling began to grow in my mind. “Even better then,” I whispered. “Then it’s something you really want. Give me your truth, baby.”
“Okay, Daddy,” he whispered. “That’s my truth. I want to call you Daddy.”
I kissed both his inner thighs, and nuzzled his balls, my mind sliding through the various implications of this, wondering if it was healthy, hoping it was because I was going to agree. No doubt about it.
I liked the word in his mouth, the sweetness of it now that it didn’t scare him, now that it was his idea. And the near-devotion it held when he called me by that formerly-forbidden title definitely appealed to the Dom in me.
