goodfellow | for Thomas

Robin let out a gasping curse in Greek and his body jerked again, pain slashing across his facial expression.

He deserved this.

And despite himself, arousal blossomed through him, his cock hard and aching, trapped between his body and the mattress.

Thomas reached out a hand, smearing the blood across the pink and white welts, then shifted the flogger to his other hand, getting Robin across the thighs, just below his ass. Then again, wrapping around Robin's ribcage. And again, over the other shoulder. "More?" he growled, pulling open the nightstand drawer, his eyes never leaving Robin.

Robin only gasped in reply: "Yes."

Thomas nodded and pulled the lube out of the drawer, liberally coating the handle of the flogger. Then he knelt on the bed, lubing his fingers and pressing them inside Robin without a lot of care or carefulness, stretching him a little before he pressed the handle inside, twisting it slowly as it slid deeper.

Robin let out a grunt as it pushed inside him, and squeezed his eyes shut. He could take a lot, and this wasn't the anywhere near the worst he'd endured.

That knowledge of Robin and his tolerance was exactly why Thomas wasn't being particularly careful. He pressed it all the way in until the metal beads hung down, brushing the underside of Robin's balls. He rocked it once, then nodded his satisfaction and picked up the riding crop, bringing it down with a satisfying smack across Robin's ass, making the flogger shift and drag cold metal over Robin's skin.

Robin rose up a little on the bed, mostly so that he could rock and get some friction against his cock. When the crop came down again he grunted sharply in pain, and for a second damn near thought he was going to come.

"On your hands and knees," Thomas ordered as Robin started rubbing against the bed, swatting the crop lightly against the angry welts on Robin's lower back. "I'm not done yet."

Robin immediately got up onto his hands and knees, wincing as he did so. "Are you going to fuck me?" he asked breathlessly.

"I haven't decided yet," Thomas answered, slipping the crop beneath Robin to rub the leather pad at the end of it along Robin's cock. Then he moved it down and swung it sharply upward, the fiberglass handle striking him just below the head. Thomas sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, eyes silver and hungry once again. "Maybe I should chain you up and make you wait until morning to come."

Robin let out an awful howl of pain that time, and was panting afterwards. "No less than I deserve," he rasped out. "You could... keep feeding from me all night. I'd let you."

"If that's what I want, you'd have a difficult time stopping me," Thomas murmured. He rubbed the crop over each and every welt he'd left, just enough to make them all itch and burn, to make them all felt.

"But it's not what I want." He reached beneath Robin, pinching one nipple, then the other, letting his nails dig into the flesh a little. He nudged the flogger with the crop, shifting it inside him. "Not this time."

Robin squirmed. And moaned, entirely unclear whether it was pleasure or pain or both.

He was caught somewhere between forgetting the guilt and feeling it more with each stab of pain.

Thomas considered for a moment, then started applying the crop to Robin's back and ass, bringing it down on unmarked skin as much as possible, working around the flogger's welts. He shifted closer, pressing up against the bed so he could reach his hand beneath Robin and tease his cock with light scratches of his fingernails, gentle slaps, the occasional light squeeze. He stifled a moan as the contact allowed him to feed in little nibbles.

Robin felt like his whole body was on fire, and it was condensing down to a pinpoint of very painful pleasure roiling in his belly, spreading up from his cock.

"Please," he moaned. "Please, please..."

Thomas let the crop fall from his hand, then reached over and slowly pulled the makeshift plug from Robin's ass, tossing it aside as well. He leaned down and murmured, "Please what?" in Robin's ear, rubbing his palm over Robin's ass, feeling the warmth from the beating he'd just administered soaking into his skin.

Robin let out a whining, keening sound when Thomas pulled out the handle. He tried to push back against Thomas' hand despite the pain of the welts. "Fuck me."

Thomas bit back a moan and picked up the lube. "I plan to," he purred, slicking up his cock and climbing onto the bed, between Robin's legs. He pressed inside quickly, voicing the moan he'd stifled before as he gripped Robin's hips and started pumping, letting his feeding deepen a little--but still careful, still restrained. Still in charge of his demon.

Robin groaned loudly and thrust shamelessly back against him. He felt a bead of sweat run down his neck. Everything hurt.

Thomas kept moving, thrusts forceful and measured, one hand moving up to rub over Robin's back, over the sore and abraded skin as he pushed himself closer. He wouldn't touch Robin yet, wouldn't let him come. Not until Thomas was almost there himself.

"Please, Thomas!" Robin cried out, pushing back hard against him, and not even able to articulate what he was begging for.

If Thomas cared what the pleas were for he gave no sign of it, though after a minute more his hand circled Robin's waist, fingers curling around Robin's cock and stroking firmly, in time with his thrusts, his breathing growing heavy and erratic as it all pushed him close to the edge.

Robin came almost the second Thomas touched him. The orgasm wracked through his body, his cry loud and sharp - it sounded like Thomas might have been killing him rather than fucking him.

Thomas' grip tightened on Robin's hip, on his cock, and with a few more thrusts he found his release a second time, shuddering as he came and then carefully pulling out, panting as he watched Robin with a concerned expression. He'd done what Robin had asked, but part of him wished he hadn't, and hated himself for enjoying it.

It had been pretty hot, though. In other circumstances...yeah. Very hot. Just not right then.

It was, in a way, cathartic for Robin. Though not as much as he might have hoped. When it was over, it was over, and suddenly he could feel again.

Collapsed down onto the mattress now, he curled up into himself and let out a small sound that sounded almost like a choked sob.

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