Becoming His Perfect Daddy: An MM Trans-Awakening Romance (Unlikely Daddies Book 1), page 18
The two men picked up the spanking bench and pulled it forward, into the spotlight in the middle of the stage. I’d seen scenes like this before, and these men had been my friends for years, but I’d never seen them do an impact scene. I wiggled in Sam’s lap, just a little, both because I was excited for what was coming next and because I wanted Sam to know how much this was turning me on. I would not be opposed to this night ending with him in my bed. In real life this time.
This night was already amazing because Sam was here, and I could tell it was about to get even better.
The shorter one, Joey, a beautiful man with a slight build and dark-brown wavy hair that just barely curled around his ears, crawled atop the cushioned bench as soon as it was in place. He kneeled on the leg rests, leaned his elbows on the soft armrests, and stretched out across the bench’s center, lying face down on the headrest. He wore no shirt, and his thin gray joggers stretched across his ass, showing every single line.
I had to have been dreaming. This was already so fucking hot.
The taller man was Zander, dressed in a leather harness that displayed his ample muscles with matching pants. He tsked at the sight. He must’ve been wired with a mic, because his voice carried loud and clear throughout the silent club. “Naughty boy, Joey. You know better than to present with pants on. I think that earns you an extra twenty swats.”
I heard the boy whimper as he scrambled to his feet, standing in place facing the audience, his body vibrating, palms on his thighs facing outward, dick hard and tenting his pants. Waiting for instructions.
Those glorious gray sweatpants didn’t hide a fucking thing.
The taller man crossed his arms, eyeing his sub pointedly. As soon as Joey caught on, he called out, “Yes, Master!”
A single nod showed the crowd the larger man had gotten the response he desired, but his face was stern. “And another ten for forgetting to address me properly.”
“Yes, Master,” Joey replied instantly, eyes downcast, voice small.
Since we were good friends, I knew they were acting. Joey would never call Zander “Master.” Zander had been his Daddy—and his husband—for eight years now.
But they were putting on a damn good show. They certainly knew how to play up their roles.
Zander inched closer to Joey, starting to circle him. The larger man trailed his fingers up one arm as he pressed against the smaller man’s side. “Do you know why I’m punishing you tonight?”
The sub nodded.
“Use your words.”
Joey swallowed hard. “I broke the rules.”
“Which ones?”
Joey’s eyes flicked to his Master’s for a split second, but his head never moved. I could see the manufactured fear in them from here.
“Which ones?” Zander growled again, leaning in closer, his mouth nearly to the shorter man’s ear.
“Please don’t make me say it here, Master.”
“Oh, no,” Master breathed, chuckling wickedly. “You’re not getting out of this one. Everyone here needs to hear what you did.”
Joey’s face got red. Was he actually embarrassed to confess his crimes? That was . . . so fucking hot.
Yup, I definitely had a humiliation kink.
I kept my eyes fixed on the scene playing out before us, but I swore I could feel Sam’s eyes on me from inches away. Was he sensing how turned on this was making me? Could he feel how hot I was getting against his chest?
Then Joey spoke. “I came without permission.”
“How?”
“Master, please . . .” He was nearly begging now.
“Answer me, boy, or you won’t be able to sit down for a week. Scratch that—you already won’t be doing that. But I can keep going until your ass is purple, if you’d like.”
Joey whimpered again, and I almost came in my pants. This was like the best porn imaginable, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was made all the better knowing Sam was right beneath me. Who was I kidding—Sam’s lap was the best possible place to be for this.
“I . . .” He hesitated a bit, then the sub’s confession came tumbling out. “I was sucking you off and snuck my hands down my pants without permission. I rubbed myself until I came in them. You gave me ten swats on my bare ass and made me stand in the corner all wet with my red bottom facing you then promised thirty more swats for that tonight.”
“And?”
There was more? Holy shit, I was so into this.
Joey’s face darkened further. “Then I had to edge myself for thirty minutes for forgetting to eat lunch. You told me not to come, and I didn’t—”
“Stop lying, boy.”
“I swear, I didn’t! I lasted the whole thirty minutes with a vibrator in my ass and my hand stroking my dick. But . . .” He trailed off.
“Keep going,” Zander growled, and my body jerked. I was so close to coming, I could taste it.
“But then you made me wear the nipple clamps. When you put them on me, you told me not to come because it was all part of my punishment. But I couldn’t help it, Master! You know how horny I get when you put the clamps on me.”
Master smirked. “I do.”
Holy fucking shit. I leaned back, shifting my groin away from Sam’s stomach to avoid rubbing up against him. Even the smallest bit of friction would make me come in my pants at that reminder of my first night with S.M.C., with Daddy, with Sam.
So. Goddamn. Hot.
“So I came again, spurting all over you. You told me to clean it all up with my tongue, to not miss a drop unless I didn’t want to come for two weeks. I cleaned it up so good, Master! I promise!”
Zander stroked his lover’s hair tenderly. The sweetness in the middle of such an emotionally intense scene made my heart swell. “I know you did, sweet boy.” He smiled down at him. “And how many swats did I promise you for that infraction?”
Joey’s head tipped down again. “Forty.”
“Because . . . ?”
“Because when naughty boys don’t learn, their punishment is more severe.”
“That’s right, boy.” Zander threaded his fingers through Joey’s hair then yanked his head backward with it so Joey could look him in the eye. “Do you know how many swats you get tonight then, boy?”
“No, Master.”
I couldn’t see his face from here, but I just knew Zander’s smile turned evil. “I count one hundred.”
He gasped. “Master!”
“Are you angling for more? Because I could oblige.”
“No, Master!”
Zander chuckled.
“Okay, then let’s begin. First, you know the drill, but since you seem to have forgotten, I’ll remind you. Strip.”
Joey gripped the waist of his joggers and shoved them to the floor, peeling them off and revealing a light purple jockstrap.
“Beautiful,” Master murmured, seemingly without meaning to, as he stroked his boy’s hip. “Excellent.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Zander straightened his stance, pulling away from Joey. “Oh, you will be thanking me tonight. You earned every single one of these swats, and I intend for you to show me how grateful you are for them when I’m done.”
“Yes, Master.”
Zander nodded toward the bench. “Now get on. Ass up. Don’t make me wait a second longer.”
Joey scrambled to comply, nearly leaping into position. His creamy white ass shone in the spotlight, enticing as fuck.
Master chuckled as he pressed his hand at the base of the boy’s spine, ensuring he was in position. “Eager, boy?”
“Oh, please, Master. Please. I just want this to be over.”
He was lying. His Master knew he was lying. We all knew he was lying. But somehow, his pleading made this even hotter.
“It will be soon enough, boy, but remember, I make the rules, and I punish you how I see fit. Do you understand?”
Joey’s voice was muffled by the headrest. “Yes, Master.”
“Color?”
“Green, Master. Please.”
“Are you begging me to start?”
“Oh yes, Master.”
I heard a smattering of soft chuckles around me. Joey was a pain slut, just like me.
To build the anticipation, Zander circled the bench, casually assessing his sub. He lightly trailed his fingers across Joey’s light skin until the smaller man shivered. Zander smiled sweetly.
By the time he was back in position behind his lover, I could feel the crowd buzzing. Zander sure knew how to work the crowd. He started massaging his boy’s ass, warming it up. I squirmed in my seat.
Then he raised his hand.
I jolted at the first smack, but I couldn’t look away. This. This was what I wanted from a Daddy. Someone to scold me, take care of my needs, punish me for breaking the rules, hold me when I cried, humiliate me in all the best ways, and give me both the pain and the love that I craved.
And the man beneath me was offering all of that and more.
Joey was whimpering loudly by the tenth swat, and I assumed he was somehow miked as well. Hearing his responses amped up the sexy factor tenfold.
At thirty, Zander paused, his hand stroking the reddened flesh of his boy’s ass. “Color, boy?”
“Still green, Master. Please.”
But instead of resuming his swats with his hand, Master leaned down to pick something up from behind the bench. I strained to see it, but I was careful not to move too much against Sam. It would be embarrassing if I came in Sam’s lap in the middle of the bar.
Zander pulled out a wide wooden paddle, one with rounded edges and a contoured handle. The paddle appeared to be about an inch thick at its widest part.
The thudding sound—and the cries it pulled out of Joey—was glorious. I was vibrating in my seat by the fiftieth swing, and by the time Zander paused again at sixty, Joey’s ass and thighs were a bright red, and I was ready to burst.
I stole a glance at Sam as Joey caught his breath on the stage. Sam was staring at me, his pupils blown wide. Arousal was rolling off him in waves, threatening to pull me under. His body vibrated beneath me.
He swallowed but held my gaze, and even after the erotic spanking on stage had resumed—probably with a cane, given the sharp snaps I heard—I couldn’t look away. Time lengthened, but we just stared.
Until he broke the silence with a whisper. “Cameron . . .”
The pure need in his voice undid me. I jumped up, reaching for his hand and pulling him to his feet. I stalked past my friends, catching Tristan’s gaze for a brief moment to acknowledge my exit, and he nodded his understanding with a knowing smirk. Bastard.
I weaved Sam through the crowd of voyeurs paying absolutely no attention to us, loving the feel of his hand in mine, until we reached a side exit. We stepped out into the chilly but clear night, heading up the alley toward the entrance of the hotel next door. But before we went inside, I jolted to a stop.
As much as I wanted Sam as soon as possible, like now, I wanted him in my space. I wanted to wake up to him in my bed, see him all sleep-rumpled and adorable, make him breakfast in the morning. I wanted him beside me all night. I wanted his scent to permeate every inch of my home so I’d remember him long after he left.
I spun to face him. He was breathing as heavily as I was, his chest heaving. I swallowed hard once, trying to catch my breath enough to speak. “Okay, so I was all set to take you into this hotel and do all kinds of filthy things to you for the rest of the night.”
Sam’s eyes widened, and I couldn’t help my smirk.
I reached for his hand and held it between us. “But I really want to take you home with me.”
It was Sam’s turn to swallow, and I saw him weighing the pros and cons in his eyes. But after only a second’s deliberation, he spoke, and my entire being swooned. “I’d love to come home with you, Cameron.”
I just nodded, switching directions and heading for the nearest bus stop. But Sam tugged at my hand before we got far.
“Uh, Cameron, baby? My SUV’s parked this way.” I turned to see him cock his head to the left.
A wide grin split my face in two until it almost hurt. “Then lead the way.”
Chapter nineteen
Cameron
The ride home was quiet but thick with a sexual tension that permeated every sigh, every breath, every quick response to inane questions asked in our attempts to quell our nerves. I was glad Sam had thought to put my address in his phone’s map and let it guide him back to my house. I couldn’t have told him where to go on a good day, and my brain was not exactly at its most brilliant at the moment.
How could this man, my dream Daddy, possibly want me this much? How could he be so perfect for me?
The drive was simultaneously over too quickly and not quickly enough, and soon Sam was pulling into my gravel drive. Once he stopped, he sent a quick text to Alex to tell him he’d left then peered through the windshield. “Wow, Cameron, your house is adorable.”
I beamed with pride as we both stepped out of his vehicle and took in the one-story single-family home lit only by my porch light. “Thanks.” It looked even better in the daylight, but he could see that tomorrow. Now that we were on solid ground once again, I needed to get him naked. Right the fuck now.
We scrambled inside, my hands shaking as I unlocked the front door, then he pushed me up against it after it closed, his hands resting on the wood, his arms caging me in.
“Cameron, look at me.” The confident dominance in his voice and the low command in his words made my knees weak. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t want to.
His eyes bored into mine when I found his gaze. His pupils were wide, the black all but consuming his brown irises, and a shudder ran down my spine. Could I come just from this man staring me down? Right now, my dick was saying yes.
“Do you want this?”
Why wasn’t there any air in this room? I couldn’t catch my breath under this man’s piercing gaze. But I forced an inhale, begging my lungs to work. When they did, I breathed out a single word, “Yes.”
He lunged toward me as if he were a parched man dying in the desert, wrapping his strong arms around my torso and pulling my lips to his.
Oh god.
This man kissed like he was starving for it, and I was mixing metaphors, but I didn’t fucking care with his lips on mine. When we broke apart for air, Sam pulled me behind him, dragging me through my open living room toward the only hallway and into my room like he owned the place. I nearly had to run to keep up—the couple of inches he had on me had to be in his legs because his stride was hard to match—but it only served to amp up my desire for him, for this. I’d wanted him since I’d laid eyes on him, and now I would have that chance.
My lust-addled mind couldn’t figure out how he knew where everything was, but once we were inside my bedroom, he turned and leered at me. “I like the house, Cameron. Easy to find your bedroom, at least.”
At that, all my notions of him being a stalker flew out the window.
Sam was no stalker. He was my Daddy.
And he was here, in my bedroom, ready to make love to me. In person, this time. For real. I’d be able to feel his touch on my skin, caress his body as he made me feel things I suspected I’d never feel with anyone else. Things I couldn’t have felt with anyone else because they weren’t him.
God, I couldn’t wait.
He pushed me back on the bed with his hands on my shoulders, and I moaned against his mouth. The kiss deepened, and his tongue pressed against my lips, requesting—no, demanding—entrance. I opened for him. His tongue instantly shoved inside, finding mine and teasing it relentlessly. And god, I felt those butterflies in my stomach again. I never knew simple kissing could be this good.
We broke apart to catch our breath, chests heaving in unison, and I used the opportunity to scoot up the bed on my elbows. He followed me with a mischievous grin, resting the length of his body against mine when I came to settle with my head on my pillow. “This okay, Cameron? I’m not hurting you, am I?”
I shook my head. “No. But I don’t mind a little pain.”
Sam’s eyes flashed again, and I loved to see the lust that shot through them. This man wanted me. And, to my utter delight, I knew he wanted to hurt me a little, too.
He reached under my tight shirt with a little effort, feeling for my nipple. It had hardened in the cool night air, so it didn’t take long for it to distend again—especially when he found it and pinched. Hard.
I moaned long and loud—I couldn’t help it.
When he twisted my nipple with a sadistic grin, I cried out and started begging. “Oh, Sam, please.”
He moved down my torso, resting on his heels so his hands were free to lift my shirt to my neck. “What do you want, baby? More?”
“Yes, please.”
“So polite for me.” With that, he took both nipples between his fingers and twisted. I screamed, my dick jolting in my pants.
“Holy fucking shit,” I panted, trying to catch my breath. But before I could, he pinched, pulled, and twisted again. “Sam!”
That fucking grin was all I was living for at the moment. That and me willing him silently to never stop. To give me even more.
“You like that, baby? You love the pain, don’t you?”
“Oh god!” I cried. “Yes! I need more, Sam, I need so much more.”
He released my nipples, and I was both relieved and disappointed. But then he yanked my shirt over my head, pulling it all the way off and tossing it across the room. I heated up once again. This man knew how to take control, and I was here for it.
He leaned in to kiss my neck, my poor abused nipples sensitive where his glittery shirt dragged against them. The feeling intensified when he licked along my collarbone, when he dragged his lips to one nipple then the other, when he bit at them before he moved on. When he pressed gentle kisses along each scar beneath.
