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“You know, Malakhi, your mouth writes checks that your ass then has to cash. Maybe one day, you’ll actually think before you speak.” He’s shrugging before he slowly circles me once, twice, before stopping at my back.
I can feel the warm breath he’s exhaling skitter across my neck, and I shiver, and I’m so turned on. All I want to do is come, and it doesn’t look like I’m going to have his big dick in me, so time to take matters into my own hands.
I fist my cock, slowly stroking it up and down, letting the blood all flow while silently edging myself to make my orgasm explode out of me.
Dom leans in to whisper in my ear, “Remember that I own you. Every molecule, every atom of your being is mine. Mine to touch, mine to deny, mine to bend, break, and bleed.”
He shoves me hard, and I let go of my cock, stumbling until my knees hit the lone tombstone, which helps to catch my fall. I’m breathing heavily and slightly disoriented when I feel his hand between my shoulder blades bending me forward.
My stomach rests easily on the top of the granite, and this is a first. Kinky bastard.
“Oooo, are we about to defile poor Marshall Witherspoon? Please and thank you. I do love desecrating places. Well, have at it, brother. I want to feel that big, hard dick rearranging my guts.” I reach around and pull my ass cheeks apart, giving Dom easy access to my tight hole. The jagged grooves of the grave marker scratch against my own cock, and it’s hard enough to make me notice but soft enough to not draw any blood. I don’t know whether to be thankful or annoyed at that.
I strain to turn my head to look at my big brother, but he stops me. “Keep your head forward. Stay just like this. So open and willing. My good little boy.” I love his praise almost as much as I love his degradation.
His fingers start running up and down my spine, deviating randomly to move in a circular motion, drawing swirls and tulips into my skin. I keep myself from moving, afraid to break the connection and let Dom do what he pleases.
He moves until his feet are on the outside of my own, caging me in, and I feel the rough denim against the back of my thighs. My hands are still holding me open and are now trapped between our bodies.
He’s stopped touching me, and I’m antsy. I wish he would just slide into me already.
“Dom, please. Either fuck me or let me fuck myself. I need to fucking come, and now you’re just being plain old mean.” I’m pouting, not that he can see it, but my voice was thick with my whine also.
I hear a scrape, like a knife, and a giddiness sweeps over me knowing that Dom is about to add another line or two to my body. A patchwork of his cuts riddles me all over, each one meaningful because they come from him. I’m waiting for the first cut when I feel something drop on my back. Once again, I turn to look at Dominic and what he’s doing, but he smacks my head back down.
Only a minute goes by when I feel him lean back, and a finger teases my hole.
“So pretty and red. Let’s make it all puffy and raw, hmm?” The question is more of a statement, but I answer anyway.
“Yes, fuck yes. Fuck me raw, for fuck’s sake. Just fuck me already.”
“Just remember you asked for this.” It's an ominous tone from him, but I don’t have time to think before I feel him shoving something on the shorter side but with a thick base right into my ass.
“A butt plug, really? All of that for this? Wasteful,” I huff out, exasperated.
It takes a moment for two things to register. The burning in my ass and the fresh scent of citrus and spice hits my nose.
“You fucking sadistic fuck. Did you stick ginger up my ass?” The burn ebbs and flows, each time intensifying as my muscles contract around the root.
“Don’t even fucking think about pulling it out. You’re on punishment, and if you want to keep all of your limbs, you’ll leave it alone. I’d hate to have to chop off your hands, but don’t fucking tempt me.” He pulls me off the granite and pushes me back down to the muddy ground. My ass hurts, my knees hurt, and my humiliation is at an all-time high.
“Now crawl back home on your hands and knees like the little bitch you are, and maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you clean the mud off my boots.” Said boot then pushes against my ass, causing me to slip, covering my entire front in mud.
I start a slow crawl, seeing what works best with the fucking piece of ginger turning my asshole into a ring of fire. This is not that shit Johnny Cash was talking about.
I move through the woods, feeling Dominic following behind me. His eyes never leave my ass, and I start swinging my hips a little.
The pain is still there, but it’s slowly morphed into some sort of fucked-up pleasure, and I specialize in fucked-up pleasure. My cock is throbbing so hard from the burn that all it would take is one touch, a single stroke, and I’ll detonate.
We pass the tree line, and the wet grass greets me. I keep my path toward the house on track until we’re at the porch stairs.
“Stop.” Dom’s voice echoes through the quiet of the early morning. The dawn was just on the horizon after we spent most of the night drinking. The bewitching hours have always been when we’ve been the most active.
I hear the clank of his belt before I feel him pull out the root vegetable of death. He rests the head of his cock on my entrance, and I could weep with the knowledge that finally I’m getting fucked.
His hand tangles in my hair, pulling me backward and taut against his body, and he slips just the tip in before retreating.
“You fucking thought wrong, little whore.” I was too lost in my head to notice that he was stroking himself until he came all over my ass and in my crack.
