He can tell Monty has sunk deep into subspace, their voice hoarse already with sobbing and begging. It was adorable and arousing at the same time, and he has to pause after ten strokes to unzip his pants to relieve the pressure, watching the way their body sways and shivers under the harsh treatment, each loud thwap of the paddle accompanied by the musical rattle of the chains and weights swinging together and Monty's broken cries of pleasure and pain, their genuine begging.
He forces himself to take his time, no matter how much he wants to toss the paddle away and bury himself inside Monty's desperate, straining heat. He can already imagine how it would feel, forcing his cock into the abused but eager flesh, hot and swollen with rough treatment and unaccustomed to use after the last few weeks of waiting for the piercings to heal. It's just as well that he had prepared for this, as a treat for both of them, that he would be more than physically able to satisfy their complementary wants and needs.
The final strike is downwards, the paddle perfectly centered, a sharp, stinging impact right between Monty's spread legs, laid across their very core, jostling all the beautiful chains. He sets it deliberately aside, and then steps forward, his hands ghosting over Monty's red asscheeks, and bends down to slide his tongue over the soaking wet inner folds of Monty's cunt, stretched and aching.
"My perfect little doll," he repeats, muffled against Monty's skin. "You're so hot and swollen and tight here. Do you even remember how to take me properly, little one? Can I bury my cock inside you like this, forcing my way into your dripping pussy? It'll hurt, won't it, Monty? Just the way you like it."
He tugs on the chains holding Monty's wrists, pulls away so he can slide the very tip of his cock along Monty'a stretched-open body, brushing it over their inner lips, listening to the damp squish of skin rubbing together, anticipating Monty's moans.
"Try and take me in, little one," he whispers, rolling his hips but not truly forcing his way in just yet, setting all the weights swaying, a subtle shifting pressure along the hard shaft of his cock. "Show me how much you want this. Want me."
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He forces himself to take his time, no matter how much he wants to toss the paddle away and bury himself inside Monty's desperate, straining heat. He can already imagine how it would feel, forcing his cock into the abused but eager flesh, hot and swollen with rough treatment and unaccustomed to use after the last few weeks of waiting for the piercings to heal. It's just as well that he had prepared for this, as a treat for both of them, that he would be more than physically able to satisfy their complementary wants and needs.
The final strike is downwards, the paddle perfectly centered, a sharp, stinging impact right between Monty's spread legs, laid across their very core, jostling all the beautiful chains. He sets it deliberately aside, and then steps forward, his hands ghosting over Monty's red asscheeks, and bends down to slide his tongue over the soaking wet inner folds of Monty's cunt, stretched and aching.
"My perfect little doll," he repeats, muffled against Monty's skin. "You're so hot and swollen and tight here. Do you even remember how to take me properly, little one? Can I bury my cock inside you like this, forcing my way into your dripping pussy? It'll hurt, won't it, Monty? Just the way you like it."
He tugs on the chains holding Monty's wrists, pulls away so he can slide the very tip of his cock along Monty'a stretched-open body, brushing it over their inner lips, listening to the damp squish of skin rubbing together, anticipating Monty's moans.
"Try and take me in, little one," he whispers, rolling his hips but not truly forcing his way in just yet, setting all the weights swaying, a subtle shifting pressure along the hard shaft of his cock. "Show me how much you want this. Want me."