fuguestates | DOING SOMETHING UNHOLY

He sighs out, warm breath against Monty's ear, stirring their hair, and then suddenly pulls back and away, releasing Monty's wrists, leaving them spread out and practically naked on the bed.

"You know I can't do any of that until we have a full contract," he says matter-of-factly, reaching up to unbutton his shirt, fingers smooth and practiced, the only sign that he's affected by the interaction between them the sight of his cock, hard and obvious in his tailored pants.

There's something about the way Justin is only now undressing, gazing down his nose at Monty splayed out and flushed and almost naked on the now messy bed that makes them feel so...objectified. And so hot.

"I know, sir," they say, eyes trailing up and down Justin's body, stopping only at his groin. They lick their lips, unconsciously. "So far, I don't have any hesitations on signing."

He bites his lip, muffling an amused chuckle as he shakes his head. "You haven't even seen my offer yet," he points out, shrugging off his shirt. Normally he would wear proper layers, but for this meeting, he had forgone his usual approach, so he is bare-chested already, revealing substantial, well-defined muscles, broad shoulders, tapering down to a trim, strong waist. "It's a good thing your caseworker is going to be the one handling your negotiations."

They are staring, they know they are, their own hand sliding down their body, pausing to fondle the lace trim of their panties, almost idly. "I think I'm seeing more than enough of it right now, actually."

His hands, dropping down to his belt, stop short, and he smirks, letting them fall to his sides. "Mm, is that so?" He purrs, a low rumble of sound. "I've always been the type to be a little more hands on, with my...purchases." He watches Monty squirm, watches the way they touch themselves idly through their panties, the bulge of their little cock stretching the cheap, lacy material, already visibly damp. "I want your hands up above your head, Monty," he says, off-handed but with clear authority in his tone, "and keep them there until I say otherwise." It was skirting the boundaries of these first meetings, to be sure, but he feels a deep and significant surety, settling deep in his core, lending a pleasant frisson of heat even to the eye contact between them, without any physical touch.

They almost whimper. Almost.

"Yes, sir," they reply and although the term is still a little strange on their tongue, it's getting easier. It's starting to feel like something they've been saying for years, something they could see themselves continuing to say for years to come.

Monty stretches their arms slowly over their head, uses one hand to grip the wrist of the other. They shiver slightly.

"Is there anything else you want me to do, sir?"

"Don't hold back," he replies, his eyes flicking up to Monty's obedient hands, then back down to meet their eyes.

Then he hooks his fingers in the elastic of Monty's panties and tugs them down off their long, slender legs, leaving them completely naked and vulnerable on the bed in front of him, their little cock already stiff and red and their thighs damp and shiny with arousal. It's so fascinating to see both, the clear physical evidence of Monty's state of mind.

He looks between the panties and Monty, before he scrunches up the material and holds it up to Monty's lips. "I still want to hear you," he clarifies, waiting for Monty to open their mouth.

Monty's heart is pounding, fluttering about wildly in their chest, their small breasts rising and falling as they inhale shakily.

Their lips part, clamp back down on the cheap polyester. "Mmrgh," they groan in the affirmative as they nod, hanging onto Justin's every word, every murmured command, and moans softly, enamored by how muffled the sound gets now that their mouth is stuffed.

Justin seems fascinated by what he's seeing, not at all appalled or baffled. This just isn't something Monty is used to experiencing and so they're not sure exactly what to do or how to react. It's why they're relieved every time the man gives a direct order. There's a safety in that.

Monty slowly pulls their thighs apart, just a bit. Not nearly enough to be lewd, yet. But welcoming.

Edited 2022-11-10 17:21 (UTC)

He smirks, pleased at the effect he's clearly having, at the mindset Monty seems to be in at the moment, and then he leans forward, his weight on the bed causing Monty to slide - just a little bit - closer to him. He rests his hands at Monty's hips, stroking against the smooth skin there, feeling the structure of bone and muscle joined together, giving Monty shape.

"Are you going to just spread your legs for me Monty? Or are you going to make me work for it?"

Oh. How did he know? How did Justin know this dirty little secret of theirs?

Monty liked to be told what to do, yes but even more, they liked to be forced. There's something about that, about putting up a fight before being made to submit, being subdued, being conquered that gets Monty's blood hot and rushing.

Their knees pinch back together. Their lashes lower. Their fingers press hard into their own wrist, nearly cutting the skin. They look coy without meaning to. They wonder if it's working.

Edited 2022-11-11 02:51 (UTC)

His grin sharpens, intent and hungry, and his fingers dig in harder, just skirting the edge of pain, as Monty adjusts on the bed. Then he surges up, sliding his hands down to Monty's knees and forcing them apart with an offhanded show of strength - not a hint of strain or effort, simply rearranging Monty on the bed as though they were a child's doll or plaything - tugging them around on the bed until he can slot his still clothed legs between Monty's spread ones, keeping them held apart with nothing but his own physicality, revealing everything to his hungry, avid gaze.

"Go on and struggle, Monty," he murmurs, his fingertips pressing against his calves where they are lined up against Justin's calves. "As much as you want."

A shiver of pure delight strikes through them, cold and shocking. They've never been with a man like this before, never been asked to indulge in their darkest, dirtiest wants with such obvious freedom. They've only seen things like this done before on stage or on television, scripted out and deliberate, played out by beautiful young men and women with perfect little bodies, all their parts exactly where they should be.

They never thought this was something they'd be allowed to have, to try.

Monty's pupils are blown so wide the blues of their eyes are nearly gone.

"Mmmm!" They start to groan and whimper, the panties stuffed in their mouth becoming damp with their own spit. They wriggle and try kicking their legs, relishing in how useless the it all was, thrilled by how Justin's grip and weight only press harder down on them the more they try to move away, pinning them in place.

Their legs are pulled even wider. They can feel the way their pink little cunt opens up just a bit more from the motion.

Monty breathes hard through their nose, nostrils flaring. Justin is looking back at them like he's about to devour them whole.

Edited 2022-11-11 03:36 (UTC)

He is utterly immovable, letting Monty struggle and strain desperately against his bulk and strength. It's a pleasant, fulfilling experience, watching the pleasure and arousal in their eyes ratchet up higher and higher as it becomes clear that Justin isn't planning to let them go that easily, that he understands what they're looking for.

Just as that realization starts to set in, he leans forward, his broad hands settling on Monty's inner thighs and forcing them open even wider, shifting in synchronicity with his own movements to keep Monty held down and open, his legs spread whorishly wide, and he slides his thumbs in parallel along the crease of Monty's body, skirting closer but not actually touching the already slick, glistening folds of their sex, while Monty's stiff, throbbing cock jerks and jostles with their movements.

"Look at you," he repeats, sounding almost starved. "Every part of you is so desperate to be used and fucked."

They moan in response, a loud and raw sound. They look down, unable to look anywhere else, visibly shaking, hips bucking suddenly when Justin's fingers get close to the core of them, right where they're throbbing and practically dripping.

"Please," they try to say, but it hardly comes out coherent. "Please."

"Such a pretty little pussy," he coos, his thumbs continuing their teasing, sliding along the creases of Monty's body, coaxing it open further, but not actually touching where they clearly most wanted his touch. "You'd open right up for me if I asked, but that's not what you really want, is it, Monty?"

He digs his fingers in hard, the thickness of his thumbs sliding along their sensitive folds of skin, an obvious - but clearly welcome - threat in the gesture, intimating penetration, circling against the opening of their body.

"You want me to take what you're desperate to give me, don't you?"

Their body arches in a gorgeous little shape, a half moon rising. They’re desperate already, the hard, almost mean press of Justin’s fingers making them twitch, their cunt dampening even more. They can only imagine how the man’s fingers might looks, glistening with their hot slick.

They shake their head, pretending to deny the accusations but this is all just part of the act, part of the high they’re current riding. Justin is reading them like a book flung wide open and they want nothing more but for the man to destroy them, rip the pages out and remake them anew.

Justin smirks, leaning forward over Monty's far slighter, smaller body, his bare chest a warm flirtation against Monty's, so he can whisper in their ear, "I could get in trouble for this you know," he murmurs, though the notion doesn't seem to be slowing him down at all, as he slides his fingers over Monty's sex, toying with the base of their cock, up and down over their genitals. "But I think you'll be worth it, in the end, won't you, Monty?"

He pulls back then, knees spreading out further on the bed, and curls his fingers over Monty's sex, relishing the damp, obscene sound of his thick fingers sliding through sensitive, slick skin.

Monty’s eyes flutter shut, rolling back into their skull as they rut helplessly and almost pathetically against the man’s knuckles. They’re warm and thick and Monty is already dreaming of feeling them inside.

But this isn’t about getting exactly what they want. This is about giving that up so someone else can give them what they really need.

They’ll have to agree then: this will be worth it.

Monty’s hips continue to roll up and down, grinding their soaking wet sex against Justin’s hand, a silent plea. They’ve been good so far, keeping their hands obediently above their head, gripping around each other even though they long to touch the man in front of them, to tug him close, to hold him.

"Let me see what you've got, Monty," he coaxes, letting Monty grind against him, their body automatically seeking out warmth and pressure and enjoyment. "If your hands move, I'll stop," he warns, and then for a moment his hands really do stop, as he tugs open Monty's outermost parts, revealing the soaking wet dampness within to his hungry gaze. He studies Monty's body with clear and obvious fascination, sliding his thumbs against them, and noting all their reactions - the way their little cock jerks and jumps with reaction, the way they squirm and tense, both trying to spread their legs wider and futilely pulling their knees together - and putting together a mental map of Monty's preferences and sensitivities to exploit next time.

If there was a next time.

"Have you ever fucked yourself with your own cock, Monty?" He asks, almost absently, his thumb strumming over the stiff length and pressing it down between Monty's legs, along the crease. "I bet you enjoy that, don't you?"

A cold sweat strikes them like a slap, shocking them completely and they look down with a worried sound, watching as their cock is pressed against the twitching lips of their cunt and then in. They shake their head but it’s a futile gesture.

The feeling is like nothing they’ve ever experienced for. It’s strange, confusing, arousing -

Addicting.

Their thighs shake and then tense, causing their body to squeeze around the small head of their dick even more and their hips buck a few desperate times.

"Oh?" He hums, sounding pleased and delighted. "You haven't tried this before?" He gently slides his fingertips along the length of Monty's cock, tracing from base to tip, dipping between the sensitive folds of skin and out again. He can feel the way Monty shudders against him, confused and desperate, legs tensing against Justin's body as he keeps them held open.

"There's so much pleasure in the world, Monty," he murmurs, almost a nonsequitur, as he casually plays with Monty's body, tucking their cock into the warmth of their cunt, then letting it spring back casually, over and over. "So much you haven't had the opportunity to explore."

They groans a little pathetically, shaking their head side to side, their hair whipping across their face. Their forehead beads with sweat. It seems impossible for them to look away, teeth clenching hard on the now thoroughly damp bundle of cloth they once wore as panties.

Fingers twitch. They long to touch the other man back, but the order he had given feels like a pair of chains around their wrists. Monty's always done well with instruction; they have always responded well to power.

That familiar curl of heat is starting to broaden at the very core of their body. They make a worried, warning sound, hips squirming as if not sure if they wanted to get away or get closer.

He can't seem to pull his eyes away, even for a moment, drinking in their every twitch and shift, their every reaction to Justin's touch and voice. It's almost painfully clear how starved for this kind of treatment Monty had been until now, their body so sensitive and reactive to the slightest pressure. He can't help but consider a future where all of this would be at his fingertips, given near unfettered and unrestricted access, the auspices of the contract allowing him - maybe even demanding of him - to lead Monty's body through this kind of exploration and discovery, to learn and submit to overwhelming pleasure and exquisite pain at Justin's hands.

"Lovely," he murmurs, his voice sounding almost hungry, as he caresses the tip of Monty's cock with his fingertips one last time before tucking it as far as it will go inside their own body, holding it there while his thumb strokes along the base. "I wonder what you'd taste like, if I got my mouth on you. I could take all of you in so easily, couldn't I? I bet my mouth wouldn't even have time to get tired before you were spilling on my tongue."

It's too much: the combination of Justin's titillating words and the feeling - the slick friction - of having their little cock shoved so deep into their already weeping cunt makes Monty cum with a muffled wail. Teeth grinding, hips jumping, they cream directly into their own body while their pussy squirts in small bursts from the strange stimulation.

Monty's eyes roll back in their head as they endure the aftershocks, feels the way their thighs are damp and sticky and warm. Their chest heaves and their breath stutters and for a moment, they can't even be bothered to remember there's another person in the room with them, watching them, doing all of this to them.

He watches Monty's body with open, naked fascination, his own cock practically throbbing in his slacks at the sight of their cock and their cunt tensing and jerking with the force of their orgasm. His fingers are practically soaked with the physical evidence of Monty's pleasure.

"My, my," he coos, gently drawing Monty's attention, finally drawing his hand away from them, watching the way their cock slowly slips out from inside of them, their body still dripping onto the covers of the bed. He glances up to Monty's hands, still held above their hand, obedient to Justin's earlier command. "You're being so good for me, aren't you, Monty? You really want this, don't you?"

For a brief, infinitesimal moment, Justin considers the circumstances, the potential of the situation between them, and then he inhales, a quiet, steadying breath.

And reaches for his shirt again, draped at the foot the bed.

"You may put your hands back down now, Monty," he says, offhanded, shrugging the shirt back on, apparently heedless of the stickiness on his hand.

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