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Something cracks down hard on Carter's ass cheek. He gasps, his body jolting at the impact. It's a belt, Carter's almost certain. Sir’s belt. When the hell did he take that off? While Carter was in space floating as he sketched? Before then? Just now?
The next strike distracts Carter from his thoughts.
The next one makes the thoughts disappear entirely.
He loses count after that, everything - the vibrator in his ass, the rope on his body, the plug in his cock, the clamps on his nipples, and the feel of leather against his skin - too much, yet not enough. He's desperate and sobbing for… something. He doesn't even know what. For sir to stop? For sir to give him more?
To be fucked. He definitely wants to be fucked. Needs to be fucked. And to come. He really needs to come.
The hits pause, though Carter doesn't even register it until sir drapes over him, his pants rubbing harshly against Carter's poor ass and thighs. He reaches for the sketchbook like he's checking it. "Are we - hmm, no, not there yet, hey, sweetheart? Looks like we need a little more right-" he pauses, pulling back to land a particularly hard smack to Carter's right ass cheek. "There."
Carter moans, the pain and pleasure making him feel drunk. "D-done sir?"
"Done, sweetheart. Fuck, you took that real well. Such a good boy for me." Carter sighs happily at the praise, his body melting into the mattress. He's quickly perking back up though at the feeling of sir playing with the rope on his cock. No, not playing. He's undoing it.
Carter sobs out a breath of relief when he feels the rope fall away from his cock.
Then he remembers the sound is still in it. He still won't be able to come. He sobs again, this time in frustration and need.
"Sir."
"Don't worry, I've got you, sweetheart. Sir will give you what you need."
The sound of a bottle being opened fills Carter's ears and Carter smiles. Yes. That's exactly what he needs.
Logically, Carter knows the prep doesn't take forever. But it feels like forever and logic doesn't have a place in his gooey brain at the moment, so he doesn't think he's being dramatic when he sobs, "Sir, please, I can't take it!" when sir is still only fingering him when his hole feels perfectly ready for the real thing. He had a vibrator in for fuck's sake. He's ready! "Please."
"Sir will give his cock to you when he's ready, sweetheart."
Carter sobs again, feeling out of his fucking mind. He's been so good, hasn't he?
"Oh sweetheart, of course you've been good," sir coos, and Carter flinches as he realizes he must have voiced his worry by accident. Though… sir does remove his fingers and that's definitely his cock nudging against Carter’s opening, so maybe it's not so bad he did that after all. "You've been so, so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Sir is going to take care of you now, alright?"
All Carter manages is a needy, "Sir."
It earns him sir's cock.
Carter’s brain sort of short-circuits after that, only registering flashes between long stretches of bliss.
Sir changing his angle and nailing Carter’s prostate.
Bliss.
Sir’s teeth sinking into his shoulder.
Bliss.
Sir grunting, “Good fucking boy,” in his ear.
Bliss.
Sir pulling out the sound and ordering him to come.
Pure. Fucking. Bliss.
When sir’s body heat disappears, Carter's mind stops floating enough to figure out that the man must have finished too. Then he floats away again, barely registering when a warm cloth is used to clean him up or when sir whispers praise to him. He's forced to come down in order to argue about drinking water. He loses, angrily sighing as he sits up enough to swallow without choking. He tries to glare at sir, but he's too fucked out and happy to manage it. He buries his face in his pillow instead. Probably a good idea, considering all sir has to do is press a kiss to his shoulder to get him all stupid and smiley. At least this way sir can't see.
“Are you still pouting, sweetheart?” sir asks, sounding far too amused for Carter’s liking.
