Michael

[goodfellow]

So Michael wanted to know if Robin wanted to be fucked here in the alley or to be treated even rougher at home?

"Guess you better fuck me quickly now then," Robin said. "So there are still cabs left to get back to my place."

Comments

[goodfellow]

The fingers did go in more smoothly than they might have otherwise, and Robin groaned and clenched his fists into the sheets.

"And you?" he breathed, knowing how Michael was testing the stretch, "are you ready?"

[trustearned]

Michael's only answer was to slide a third finger in and curled them inside Robin, aiming for his prostate.

[goodfellow]

Robin groaned, low and deep.

"Hurt me," he gasped suddenly. "I want that, too. Pain and pleasure. Make me scream for mercy..."

[trustearned]

There was a reason Michael had kept the belt close, and he reached for it now, his weight on Robin shifting slightly. Then, right as he crooked his fingers again, he slapped it down across Robin's shoulders again.

[goodfellow]

Robin gasped at the sharp pain from the crack of the belt, and then groaned. The combination of the pain while Michael's fingers brushed his prostate was perfect.

"You want me," he gasped. "Do it."

[trustearned]

"I'll fuck you when I decide," Michael told him, his voice hard for having to remind him who was calling the shots. Instead of doing as Robin asked, he smacked the belt across his shoulders again as he brushed his fingers against that spot, and set up a steady, not too quick rhythm of doing so. All the sensations, but no release in sight.

[goodfellow]

"Please, Michael..." Robin moaned, and he hadn't even meant to, hadn't meant to beg, not yet, but he just really wanted more...

[trustearned]

Michael stilled, then demanded, "Say that again," and very slowly dragged his fingertips over Robin's prostate again.

[goodfellow]

Robin said nothing, but he did moan again, and the sheets bunched up in his fists.

[trustearned]

"That's what I thought," Michael stated, and resumed the same rhythm, laying smacking blows of the belt across all of his back.

[goodfellow]

Robin bucked underneath him, trying to push back against his fingers. Trying to get more without asking for it, even as the burning smacks from the belt left pain lingering there like fire.

[trustearned]

The more he tried to get, the less Michael let him have, in terms of pleasure, at least. The blows still fell across his back, hard and relentless.

[goodfellow]

The blows landing on top of each other on top of tender flesh were only worse every time, and Robin was panting by now. But he was stubborn, too. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he would wait a little longer.

"Don't pretend you don't want to fuck me," he moaned. "I know you want it."

[trustearned]

"Do you?" Michael challenged, and lowered his arm, pulled his fingers completely free of the clench of Robin's arse. "What gave me away?" He leaned over him and fisted his hand in Robin's hair, pulling his head back. "The fact that I'm still bothering with you right now, when I could be looking for someone more pliable in the nearest club?"

[goodfellow]

"Yes, exactly," Robin breathed, loving the rough treatment but feeling the absence of Michael's fingers. "Of course you're bothering with me. I'm good, and you know it."

[trustearned]

"Plenty of men good at it in this city," Michael remarked, talking roughly against Robin's ear as he scratched his fingers down his upper back, across the rising welts from the belt.

[goodfellow]

Robin let out a low groan of pain.

"But other men can't take it like I can," he gasped.

[trustearned]

"You'd be surprised what other men can take," Michael stated, and twisted his hand slightly, to pull tighter on Robin's hair.

[goodfellow]

"I'm aware," Robin said, with another short gasp. "I make them take it, too. I'm as comfortable in that position as you are. Doesn't that make it even hotter? I'm not some wilting flower. I want you."

[trustearned]

"You want pain," Michael retorted, and let go of his hair, letting his head fall back down on the bed. He wanted pain so much he was looking for it in pub fights.

[goodfellow]

Robin scrambled up so that he could look up at Michael. "I like extremes," he said. "Are you complaining?"

[trustearned]

Michael grabbed Robin's shoulder and forced him back onto his stomach with one hard shove. "Did I tell you to move." He was not complaining, no, simply stating a fact. He did not need to feel special; he was simply here to give Robin what he wanted, nothing more.

[goodfellow]

Robin let out a grunt when he found himself back on his stomach. "Why don't you tell me what you do want then," he rasped out. "I'll do anything. Whatever depravity your heart might desire."

[trustearned]

"I want you to acknowledge that you're not in charge, here," Michael answered evenly, and moved off Robin, and off the bed. "Don't move."

[goodfellow]

Well, he had him there. Robin had said anything...

"Yes, sir," he murmured, and stayed put.