atehimrightup | for george

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george

for george

There's a food truck festival in Petros Park that night, and Lee takes George mostly so he can see his face while trying new things, like squid balls and deep fried cheesecake. It's a good time and once they're full, neither of them are ready for the night to end so they wind up at a bar not far from George's place.

It's sort of mid-tier, not super nice but not a total dive, either. They get a few rounds at the bar, leaning against each other and laughing, and Lee realizes that he's drunk sort of all of a sudden, like it snuck up on him. It makes him more handsy, makes him bite at George's shoulder through the sleeve of his shirt. It makes him notice how many eyes are on George all the time.

The bartender brings them a round of tequila shots on a little tray complete with a salt shaker and lime wedges, and Lee looks up at him questioningly.

"We didn't order this," Lee tells him, and the bartender waves him off and tells him someone asked for them to be sent over. "Who?"

The bartender just shrugs and turns away to help a group of rowdy young women, and Lee glances at the shots before looking around the room a bit suspiciously. "Hm."

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“I’m not sure you’re exactly in a position to make demands,” Lee drawls out, unable to help the edge of fondness in his voice.

He lets go of the whip to give George another barehanded slap, then picks up the whip again. Now he has a sense for how to use it, and he brings it down a little harder, eyes widening at the sound the leather makes hitting his skin, like a quick cascade of cracks.

it feels completely different from being hit with Lee's hand and George moans, his hips shifting at the impact. He goes back to sucking on Lee's fingers, like he's almost desperate for it. He is. He's desperate for it.

“Fuck, look at you,” Lee breathes out, cradling George’s jaw while keeping his fingers hooked into his eager mouth.

In this position, he can’t really rear his arm back enough to really get a lot of momentum, but that’s okay. It’s enough for now to just experiment with where and how hard to hit without doing much damage. Maybe a few little welts here and there, but nothing worse than what he’s done with his hand, he doesn’t think.

He pauses to turn the toy up another notch, and then teasingly drags the tails up over the swell of his balls and his stretched open hole, then smacks it harder just above his tailbone.

The touch to his balls is maddening and he squirms in response to the added pressure on the base of the toy. When the whip connects with his skin, he grunts, hating and loving how undignified that sound is.

His cock throbs with every strike.

“Look at you,” Lee says again. “So needy that you’re squirming.”

Lee turns off the toy and eases it out, leaning over to spit into George’s open hole, rubbing it into the slick muscle. He glances at the discarded whip and the smooth handle with the rounded end, and remembers something George had said at the shop.

“Just happy to have anything inside you, I bet,” Lee murmurs, picking the whip up and holding it by the top of the handle, rubbing the end of it against his hole before slowly nudging the rounded end inside, letting it sink in a few inches. It’s smaller than Lee’s cock, but that’s not the point. The point is to make George sit there with the handle of a sex toy inside of him, and how that makes him feel.

It takes him a moment to realise what's happening, what Lee's doing to him, making him lie there and take. He fights the urge to hide his face, can't help but picture what he must look like with the toy sticking out of him like a tail.

"Christ," he mumbles.

Lee lets out a warm chuckle and fucks him with the toy a little, just to really let it sink in, then pulls it out and flips it over to whip him again, harder than before.

George’s ass is pink all over, so pretty and round, and Lee can’t help himself. He leans in and bites firmly at the fleshiest part of one cheek. It’s not hard enough to break skin, but the indent of his teeth is left behind when he pulls away.

Then, as if in apology, he sinks two fingers into George’s ass and seeks out his prostate, rubbing firmly. “Just marking what’s mine.”

He likes being spanked with Lee's hand but he's finding that he loves the whip, the way the pain spreads and diffuses. He yelps when Lee bites him, biting down on the fingers in his mouth almost unconsciously, which muffles the loud, ragged moan when Lee starts to finger him again.

George bites down on his fingers and Lee jerks beneath him, lifting one foot only to slam it back into the floor as he moans, tossing his head back as he breathes through an intense rush of pleasure. His cock is leaking against George’s belly, demanding attention, and he swallows hard.

“You’re gonna come like this,” Lee demands, spanking George with his hand right over the bite mark. “And then I’m gonna fuck you until you come again. However long it takes.”

He pulls his fingers out only to press back in with three, massaging firmly at his prostate. He pulls his fingers free of George’s mouth and grabs the leash, tugging on it enough for George to really feel the pressure of the collar around his throat. “Understand?”

He's startled by the reaction, but he shouldn't be, not when he can feel the mess that Lee's hard cock is painting against his belly. He grunts at the impact of the slaps, spilling into a moan when Lee presses what feels like more than two fingers now back into him. The combination of that and the firm pressure on the leash is verging on overwhelming. He can't help but squirm. He nods, hair falling into his face.

"I understand."

“Good boy,” Lee pants out, wrapping the leash around his fist to pull on it a bit more. He massages George’s prostate with more purpose now, applying unrelenting pressure until George is nothing but a whining, quivering mess.

“Such a needy little thing,” Lee murmurs, dragging it out for another few seconds just to watch him squirm, marveling over how beautiful he looks. “Okay, baby. Come for me.”

He doesn't qiuite come on demand, but it doesn't take long -- another few squirms of his hips and then he's coming, straining and trembling against the tug of the lead around his throat. His breath sobs out of him. He can't imagine the mess he's making.

George’s orgasm comes with a force that Lee doesn’t expect and all he can do is stare at him for a few moments, wide-eyed and awed. It’s so beautiful, and Lee feels so immensely satisfied. So powerful.

“That’s it. That’s so good. I’m so proud of you,” Lee murmurs, feeling George’s cock pulse against his thigh, making a mess between their bodies. Lee works him through it, then slows his fingers and pulls them free, loosening his grip on the leash at the same time. George is shaking all over and Lee lets out a soothing sound, holding the trembling mess of him as if he’s the most important thing in the world.

In the moment, and in most of Lee’s moments lately, that’s exactly what he is.

The praise is just as good as the humiliation, and George finds himself settled by it. It makes him think of time spent on horses, soft words whispered to calm a beast's racing heart. He whimpers, turning his head.

"Thank you."

“You’re welcome, baby,” Lee says easily, because he understands what George is thanking him for. Lee has been in the exact same spot, soothed by George’s firm hands.

After a few minutes of Lee just petting and praising him, he shifts out from underneath George, swiping his hand through the mess on his belly before laying him down on the sofa, one leg stretched along it while the other falls off of it, knee bent and hanging toward the floor. It spreads him open, but Lee doesn’t fuck him just yet. He feels strangely calm now, centered, and instead he sits next to George’s head, lifting it to rest George’s cheek against his thigh. His cock is so hard that it hurts, but he can wait. Seeing George like this is too beautiful, and he doesn’t want to rush.

“Clean up this mess up for me,” he murmurs, holding his come slick hand in front of George’s mouth.

His cock isn't fully soft, but he knows that it's going to be a while until he can come again, and he shivers when he remember what Lee said was coming next. When Lee lifts his head to rest it against his thigh, George nuzzles his cheek against soft skin and, when Lee tells him to clean up the mess, he shifts, sucking two come coated fingers into his mouth without a second thought.

“Such a good little pet,” Lee murmurs fondly, lifting his other hand to ruffle it through George’s sweaty hair. He looks almost dazed as he sucks on Lee’s fingers, and Lee only removed them to sweep up the come on his thigh, feeding it to him little by little until it’s all gone.

“How do you feel?” Lee asks, wanting to check in before continuing.

George's eyes had drifted closed as Lee had fed him his own come, one mouthful at a time. He opens them again, giving Lee a sort of dazed, dreamy smile.

"Good," he says. "Floating." He stretches his back a little, still in the position Lee put him in. "You could be meaner to me. I could take it." He looks doubtful for a moment. "It's odd that that's what I want, isn't it?"

“I find it hard to be mean to you,” Lee admits, but he shakes his head a little at the question. “We all crave things we cannot explain. I don’t think it’s odd.”

He takes a deep breath and drags his nails lightly along George’s scalp. “It’s kinda funny. I’m usually very mean without trying at all. You make it difficult.”

"I think I like it because you being mean to me doesn't have any real consequences," says George, his eyes drifting closed again as Lee scratches at his scalp. "I can sink into it because I know you don't mean it. I just have to... Take it." He smiles. "Feels good."

“That… helps, actually,” Lee says thoughtfully, relieved that George isn’t internalizing any of what Lee says in these moments. His brow furrows thoughtfully as he looks down at George, who looks so young and peaceful with his eyes closed, even as debauched as he is right now.

Lee sits there for another long moment and then nods to himself before sliding out from under George’s head and leaving him on the sofa, arms still locked behind his back and ass burning red.

“You hang tight then,” Lee says, patting the side of George’s head a bit patronizingly before heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll be back when I feel like it.”

With his hands locked behind his back, it's not the most comfortable that he's ever been, but it would be worse if he was on the floor, not stretched out on the couch. He doesn't move out of the position that Lee put him in, just lying there drifting with his eyes closed and trying not to feel too vulnerable because he's suddenly alone. He isn't really, anyway -- Lee is still here somewhere.

Lee gets himself a glass of water and then leans out the window to take a few drags of a cigarette, erection flagging slightly as he does. He’s been turned on for so long that he feels a bit crazy, but maybe that’s a good thing.

He goes into the bathroom and takes a look at himself in the mirror. There’s a bit of dried blood around the butterfly closure on his cheek, which is starting to bruise. Lee pokes at it hard, hissing as the pain blossoms through his face.

Mean. He can be mean. He is mean. He broke a guy’s fingers tonight simply for touching George. He’s ruthless when he needs to be and if the man he has very complicated feelings for wants him to be mean, he can be mean. He thinks about what George said about Lee taking what he wants without asking and thinks about the rage he felt just earlier tonight. He lets it take over as he stares at his bruised face in the mirror, then turns to stalk back out into the living room.

George is lying there looking like he’s drifting, peaceful despite the filthy way he’s positioned, and Lee suddenly gets so mad about the way that George has upended his life.

He walks up to the sofa and grabs George by his arms, suddenly yanking him off of it to drag him down onto the floor, depositing him there face down, chest heaving as he stands up and reaches for the whip.

“You asked for it,” Lee reminds him, and then brings down the whip across his ass harder than he’d dared to before, gritting his teeth at the sound it makes.

He did ask for it, but that doesn't mean that he's expecting it then he gets pitched onto the floor. It knocks the breath out of him and he's still lying there, prone, cheek against the rug. When leather snaps against his skin, he yelps. It's a wholly undignified, humiliating noise.

Lee finds himself breathing hard, eyes wide at the sound George makes. He pauses long enough to make sure that George isn’t going to tap out, and then whips him again, this time on the backs of his thighs.

“Spread your fucking legs,” Lee barks out, kicking his ankles apart before finally taking off his underwear. He holds them in his hand for a moment, then bends down and stuffs the crotch of them into George’s mouth, gagging him with cotton. “Nice and wide, slut.”

The whip cracks against his ass again. “Now.”

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