Hooked, White Collar fic
Title: Hooked
Author:
afiawri
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Neal
Warnings: Ass hook, D/s, Bondage, spanking
Word Count: 1,723
Thanks: rabidchild67 for her awesome beta skills!
Summary: Neal convinces Peter that honing in is really better than multitasking.
Well? hoosierbitch, Bring it! (Pfft, multitasking. Overrated.)
The slicked, warmed bulb on the end of the ass hook easily pushed into Neal’s hole. The long stretch of curved metal flowed in just as smoothly.
Peter slide the end attached to the rope along Neal’s skin, moving the hook side ways, massaging the side of Neal’s hole with that little ball before finally getting it far enough in to straighten it - and leave it with the hook eye and rope digging into Neal’s back so he could grasp Neal’s neck and forced him to stop craning over his shoulder, trying to look.
“Grasp the balusters.”
Peter waited until Neal’s sweaty hands wrapped around the delicate design of the wood before dropping his eyes back to the thick piece of curved metal disappearing into him. “Push your ass farther out.” He wrapped a hand around Neal’s hips and helped him move until his ass stuck out as far from the staircase as it could get with his toes still pressed up against the wall.
And then there Neal was, his ass several feet from the stairs, farthest part from them. The absurdity just made it hotter.
Peter slid the hook in the rest of the way, so the straightest part rested between Neal’s cheeks, poking out of the top, a rope trailing from it like an obscene tail that Peter wanted to pull.
So he did.
He pulled. The hook jostled in Neal’s ass and shifted deeper inside. Neal was good and hooked. Every flex and relax in Neal’s tight ass cheeks was so obvious, Peter wondered why Neal even tried to hide how much being hooked did for him, how much the very thought had turned him on.
Peter looped the rope’s end around the stair rail several steps above Neal’s hands. And tugged, forcing Neal’s ass higher in the air. Tugged again. That hook was pulling at the top of Neal’s hole, stretching it obscenely open. Peter put the barest hint of pressure on the rope, and Neal rose up on his toes.
He danced as Peter tightened the rope until it was taut and then tied it off. The rope gave some slack as he did, allowing Neal to almost settle on his heels.
The position forced Neal’s back to bow, forced him to present his tight little ass to Peter. Even if Neal forgot to hang onto the stair shafts, his ass was good and hooked. Peter plucked at the rope. It made a soft, dull thrumming. Neal squirmed as vibrations traveled down the rope to the hook inside him.
“Stay,” Peter commanded, even though Neal couldn’t have moved more than to get up fully onto his toes.
Peter fetched his favorite paddle. It was thin and flexible and he never got to use it anymore because he’d beaten Neal’s hole one too many times with it and that’s what Neal had come to expect when he brought it out.
So Peter treasured the times Neal was in top form, the times when Peter knew he could go as far as he wanted with Neal. The times he could break out his favorite and its implied threat. Maybe he’d beat Neal’s hole, maybe he wouldn’t. Today was all about Neal’s ass, so there’d be time.
He rubbed it across the top of Neal’s ass, letting Neal know what he held. The ass hook would protect Neal’s hole for now.
It was a light duty paddle and Peter had settled Neal in for the long haul with that ass hook and they both knew it. This beating was going to take a while, to really truly cover Neal’s ass in as much pain as it deserved.
Peter steadied a hand on Neal’s back and waited until Neal grew fidgety, until that ass wiggled a little, and then beat the hell out of it.
Peter didn’t bother counting. He hit Neal too fast to keep count, just covered the top of one cheek in fine, red stripes and then the bottom of the other, watching Neal thrash on that hook, driving it deeper into himself, hopping up and down on his toes.
Peter beat Neal’s ass pink. He beat his ass until his cock was red and hard and dripping. Then finally, slowly, shades of red emerged in the most abused parts of Neal’s ass. Peter focused on those, letting the red deepen and spread slowly, watching that ass struggle to stop rocking and flinching and moving. It made the steady blows unpredictable, but Neal couldn’t plant his heels down fully to steady himself.
Peter kept the blows coming constantly, never giving Neal a break. He worked in an ever widening pattern, darkening the edges of the worst hit part of Neal’s ass. Small sections of Neal’s ass were still nearly white as the most beaten started showing hints of purple. It was a whimper that finally shifted his attention to the unblemished skin.
He covered the top curve of Neal’s ass down to the very top of his thighs. The only parts he didn’t hit were the parts that would’ve put the paddle anywhere near Neal’s balls.
Peter stepped back for a breath. Neal’s naked ass was hot to the touch. Peter leaned down by Neal’s head. Neal turned and looked with dazed and wide eyes, still aware, still practically begging for touch, but settled into the beating.
This was the point where Peter would normally take Neal’s cock in hand, play with it, get Neal truly wound up and desperate. Now, he just watched Neal try to rest with his ass burning hot and an ass hook inside that kept him bobbing on his toes.
Just watching was no fun; Peter dug his fingers into Neal’s cheeks so suddenly Neal jumped. On the way down, the hook shoved harder into him. His ragged, protracted groan was just as beautiful as watching Neal squirm on the hook like something Peter’d caught.
“Please, Peter. Please leave my ass alone. My dick, please…” Neal gave Peter such a pathetic look that it had to be contrived, particularly since Neal’s ass could take so much more.
“Not a chance."
“Please, even just my nipples. Just something…”
“I don’t know what makes you think you’ll ever get any pity from me, Neal,” Peter gave Neal what would be a friendly slap on the ass if they were clothed and Neal wasn’t shaking and bobbing desperately on a hook.
Neal cried out and dropped his head again.
Peter leaned down and tapped the step by Neal’s knee. “Put your foot up here.” Neal raised a foot with great difficulty and planted it on the inch of stair outside of the railing.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, he wasn’t listening: Peter doesn’t give mercy.
Peter ignores Neal’s gasp when he cups Neal’s ass to make sure he doesn’t move as Peter pulls the hook out. It takes long seconds of pulling the length of metal before the ball at the end stretched Neal’s hole open around it. And now that Peter knew exactly where it was, he shoved it back inside and pressed it against Neal’s prostate. He knew he’d hit his target when Neal choked on his own spit.
“If you really want to come-” Peter rubbed viciously with the hook- “then this is what you’ve got to work with.”
Peter rubbed and thrust, watching Neal’s cock splatter precome everywhere, but Neal needed something wrapped around his cock. His thrusts bouncing it against his own stomach wasn’t going to be enough.
Too bad.
“You still want to come?” Peter asked, steel in his voice, making it clear no matter how purple his cock and balls became, how desperately Neal rocked back on a lube slicked hook, how pathetic and sexy Neal became, this was all he was getting.
“N-n-no.” Neal’s ass never stopped moving though. Peter had to be the one to withdraw the hook and still Neal shoved his ass back in the air, looking for more. Unable to get off, unwilling to stop trying.
Neal swayed back and forth so wildly, only his hands on the stair rails keep him from falling. Hard. Now that would be a sight, Neal on the floor, shuddering in pain from smacking his own ass on the hardwood. Peter, true to his rules, didn’t touch his own cock even though it twitched and ached for it. It was Neal’s ass night; he was taking Neal up on his challenge to focus in on one task. Besides, that would be crueler than Peter wanted to be tonight.
“Come on. Let’s get you a cold shower.”
Peter led Neal around the stairs, leaving the ass hook to dangle from the railing.
After all the trouble he had with that one tiny step, Neal magically made it up the stairs just fine with Peter’s hand on his ass to guide him.
By the time they reach the landing he’s panting and his hands kept gravitating towards his dick and jerking away. His dick itself jumped a couple of times. Neal was a twitchy mess, but he allowed Peter to steer him into the bathroom.
Neal climbed in facing the showerhead. Silly thing; Peter made a circular motion in the air with his finger. Neal looked so shaky as he shuffled around that Peter helped him to kneel in the bath tub with a hand on a shoulder and a faintly pink hip. He took the showerhead down and lets the water run, spraying the side of the tub, some of it splashing on the back of Neal’s legs.
Neal’s steady, fucked-out shaking turned into tiny shivers of anticipation. Peter turned the water pressure down and tested it on his own hand - it was light, barely a drizzle, too cold to be called lukewarm - before turning it on Neal’s ass.
At first, Neal rocked. Peter rested his face by the top of the tub and watched his cock slowly shrivel up, his balls pull up against his body. It took forever, for a pain slut like Neal to come down from a high like today’s with water raining down on his ass, sprinkling the pain lightly, but his cock did soften.
Neal’s arms folded. He rested his face on them. “You win. You win.”
Peter already knew that. Neal’s cute ass demanded pinching, so he does. In response, Neal twitched and looked at him pleadingly, exhausted pain in his eyes, finally to the point where Peter couldn't safely push him much more. “Okay, okay, I’m done. And you win. This honing in stuff has real merits.”
Also posted at: http://afiawri.dreamwidth.org/22653.html
Author:
afiawri
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Neal
Warnings: Ass hook, D/s, Bondage, spanking
Word Count: 1,723
Thanks: rabidchild67 for her awesome beta skills!
Summary: Neal convinces Peter that honing in is really better than multitasking.
Well? hoosierbitch, Bring it! (Pfft, multitasking. Overrated.)
The slicked, warmed bulb on the end of the ass hook easily pushed into Neal’s hole. The long stretch of curved metal flowed in just as smoothly.
Peter slide the end attached to the rope along Neal’s skin, moving the hook side ways, massaging the side of Neal’s hole with that little ball before finally getting it far enough in to straighten it - and leave it with the hook eye and rope digging into Neal’s back so he could grasp Neal’s neck and forced him to stop craning over his shoulder, trying to look.
“Grasp the balusters.”
Peter waited until Neal’s sweaty hands wrapped around the delicate design of the wood before dropping his eyes back to the thick piece of curved metal disappearing into him. “Push your ass farther out.” He wrapped a hand around Neal’s hips and helped him move until his ass stuck out as far from the staircase as it could get with his toes still pressed up against the wall.
And then there Neal was, his ass several feet from the stairs, farthest part from them. The absurdity just made it hotter.
Peter slid the hook in the rest of the way, so the straightest part rested between Neal’s cheeks, poking out of the top, a rope trailing from it like an obscene tail that Peter wanted to pull.
So he did.
He pulled. The hook jostled in Neal’s ass and shifted deeper inside. Neal was good and hooked. Every flex and relax in Neal’s tight ass cheeks was so obvious, Peter wondered why Neal even tried to hide how much being hooked did for him, how much the very thought had turned him on.
Peter looped the rope’s end around the stair rail several steps above Neal’s hands. And tugged, forcing Neal’s ass higher in the air. Tugged again. That hook was pulling at the top of Neal’s hole, stretching it obscenely open. Peter put the barest hint of pressure on the rope, and Neal rose up on his toes.
He danced as Peter tightened the rope until it was taut and then tied it off. The rope gave some slack as he did, allowing Neal to almost settle on his heels.
The position forced Neal’s back to bow, forced him to present his tight little ass to Peter. Even if Neal forgot to hang onto the stair shafts, his ass was good and hooked. Peter plucked at the rope. It made a soft, dull thrumming. Neal squirmed as vibrations traveled down the rope to the hook inside him.
“Stay,” Peter commanded, even though Neal couldn’t have moved more than to get up fully onto his toes.
Peter fetched his favorite paddle. It was thin and flexible and he never got to use it anymore because he’d beaten Neal’s hole one too many times with it and that’s what Neal had come to expect when he brought it out.
So Peter treasured the times Neal was in top form, the times when Peter knew he could go as far as he wanted with Neal. The times he could break out his favorite and its implied threat. Maybe he’d beat Neal’s hole, maybe he wouldn’t. Today was all about Neal’s ass, so there’d be time.
He rubbed it across the top of Neal’s ass, letting Neal know what he held. The ass hook would protect Neal’s hole for now.
It was a light duty paddle and Peter had settled Neal in for the long haul with that ass hook and they both knew it. This beating was going to take a while, to really truly cover Neal’s ass in as much pain as it deserved.
Peter steadied a hand on Neal’s back and waited until Neal grew fidgety, until that ass wiggled a little, and then beat the hell out of it.
Peter didn’t bother counting. He hit Neal too fast to keep count, just covered the top of one cheek in fine, red stripes and then the bottom of the other, watching Neal thrash on that hook, driving it deeper into himself, hopping up and down on his toes.
Peter beat Neal’s ass pink. He beat his ass until his cock was red and hard and dripping. Then finally, slowly, shades of red emerged in the most abused parts of Neal’s ass. Peter focused on those, letting the red deepen and spread slowly, watching that ass struggle to stop rocking and flinching and moving. It made the steady blows unpredictable, but Neal couldn’t plant his heels down fully to steady himself.
Peter kept the blows coming constantly, never giving Neal a break. He worked in an ever widening pattern, darkening the edges of the worst hit part of Neal’s ass. Small sections of Neal’s ass were still nearly white as the most beaten started showing hints of purple. It was a whimper that finally shifted his attention to the unblemished skin.
He covered the top curve of Neal’s ass down to the very top of his thighs. The only parts he didn’t hit were the parts that would’ve put the paddle anywhere near Neal’s balls.
Peter stepped back for a breath. Neal’s naked ass was hot to the touch. Peter leaned down by Neal’s head. Neal turned and looked with dazed and wide eyes, still aware, still practically begging for touch, but settled into the beating.
This was the point where Peter would normally take Neal’s cock in hand, play with it, get Neal truly wound up and desperate. Now, he just watched Neal try to rest with his ass burning hot and an ass hook inside that kept him bobbing on his toes.
Just watching was no fun; Peter dug his fingers into Neal’s cheeks so suddenly Neal jumped. On the way down, the hook shoved harder into him. His ragged, protracted groan was just as beautiful as watching Neal squirm on the hook like something Peter’d caught.
“Please, Peter. Please leave my ass alone. My dick, please…” Neal gave Peter such a pathetic look that it had to be contrived, particularly since Neal’s ass could take so much more.
“Not a chance."
“Please, even just my nipples. Just something…”
“I don’t know what makes you think you’ll ever get any pity from me, Neal,” Peter gave Neal what would be a friendly slap on the ass if they were clothed and Neal wasn’t shaking and bobbing desperately on a hook.
Neal cried out and dropped his head again.
Peter leaned down and tapped the step by Neal’s knee. “Put your foot up here.” Neal raised a foot with great difficulty and planted it on the inch of stair outside of the railing.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, he wasn’t listening: Peter doesn’t give mercy.
Peter ignores Neal’s gasp when he cups Neal’s ass to make sure he doesn’t move as Peter pulls the hook out. It takes long seconds of pulling the length of metal before the ball at the end stretched Neal’s hole open around it. And now that Peter knew exactly where it was, he shoved it back inside and pressed it against Neal’s prostate. He knew he’d hit his target when Neal choked on his own spit.
“If you really want to come-” Peter rubbed viciously with the hook- “then this is what you’ve got to work with.”
Peter rubbed and thrust, watching Neal’s cock splatter precome everywhere, but Neal needed something wrapped around his cock. His thrusts bouncing it against his own stomach wasn’t going to be enough.
Too bad.
“You still want to come?” Peter asked, steel in his voice, making it clear no matter how purple his cock and balls became, how desperately Neal rocked back on a lube slicked hook, how pathetic and sexy Neal became, this was all he was getting.
“N-n-no.” Neal’s ass never stopped moving though. Peter had to be the one to withdraw the hook and still Neal shoved his ass back in the air, looking for more. Unable to get off, unwilling to stop trying.
Neal swayed back and forth so wildly, only his hands on the stair rails keep him from falling. Hard. Now that would be a sight, Neal on the floor, shuddering in pain from smacking his own ass on the hardwood. Peter, true to his rules, didn’t touch his own cock even though it twitched and ached for it. It was Neal’s ass night; he was taking Neal up on his challenge to focus in on one task. Besides, that would be crueler than Peter wanted to be tonight.
“Come on. Let’s get you a cold shower.”
Peter led Neal around the stairs, leaving the ass hook to dangle from the railing.
After all the trouble he had with that one tiny step, Neal magically made it up the stairs just fine with Peter’s hand on his ass to guide him.
By the time they reach the landing he’s panting and his hands kept gravitating towards his dick and jerking away. His dick itself jumped a couple of times. Neal was a twitchy mess, but he allowed Peter to steer him into the bathroom.
Neal climbed in facing the showerhead. Silly thing; Peter made a circular motion in the air with his finger. Neal looked so shaky as he shuffled around that Peter helped him to kneel in the bath tub with a hand on a shoulder and a faintly pink hip. He took the showerhead down and lets the water run, spraying the side of the tub, some of it splashing on the back of Neal’s legs.
Neal’s steady, fucked-out shaking turned into tiny shivers of anticipation. Peter turned the water pressure down and tested it on his own hand - it was light, barely a drizzle, too cold to be called lukewarm - before turning it on Neal’s ass.
At first, Neal rocked. Peter rested his face by the top of the tub and watched his cock slowly shrivel up, his balls pull up against his body. It took forever, for a pain slut like Neal to come down from a high like today’s with water raining down on his ass, sprinkling the pain lightly, but his cock did soften.
Neal’s arms folded. He rested his face on them. “You win. You win.”
Peter already knew that. Neal’s cute ass demanded pinching, so he does. In response, Neal twitched and looked at him pleadingly, exhausted pain in his eyes, finally to the point where Peter couldn't safely push him much more. “Okay, okay, I’m done. And you win. This honing in stuff has real merits.”
Also posted at: http://afiawri.dreamwidth.org/22653.html