Fic: "Three Strikes." Dick/Cassidy (Veronica Mars).
Three Strikes
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: Dick/Cassidy Casablancas (heavily implied incest)
Genre: Kink (spanking, voyeurism)
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 1,760
Warnings: Mind the genre: there will be hitting.
Summary: Dick fails his dad’s discipline system and must submit to a spanking, which benefits Cassidy.
A/N: I don’t own these characters-they own me. They, in turn, are owned by Rob Thomas and the WB. No profit made, no infringement intended, this is just for fun. This one is for all my new buddies on Tumblr, but especially for Fangasmic. You guys are the best!
Three Strikes
By Lexalicious70
AKA NeptuneRising70.
Cassidy awoke in a mass of sweaty sheets, his cock rigid and almost painful beneath the plaid sleep pants he wore. He sat up all at once, kicking the sheets to the end of the bed, his nostrils flaring and catching the scent of his own sweat and musk. The dreams had come again, and God, he hated them, just another part of his own fucked up life that he couldn’t control. He swung his feet off the bed and planted them firmly on the hardwood floor-no carpets in his room, Big Dick didn’t trust him not to spill food, even though he was sixteen-and glanced at his clock radio on the nightstand. It was just after six p.m. on Sunday. He’d fallen asleep at about 4:30 while watching the Billabong Pro Gold Coast heats on Fuel, and as he glanced up at his muted television, he saw that the heats had given way to some extreme four wheeling show, and he clicked it off in disgust. Leave that shit for gearheads like the PCH’ers.
He stood, pushing back his short curls, and his reflection in the darkened TV screen did the same. His body was cycling down to a low, unsatisfied throb, leaving an ache deep in his testes as his erection finally deflated. His mouth and throat felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton and that he’d swallowed all but a few thick strands. He pulled a fresh white tee shirt from his drawer, yanking the damp one off and tossing it into the hamper before he opened his bedroom door and started down the hall toward the kitchen for one of the cold 20-ounce bottles of Pepsi he’d stored in the fridge the night before, behind the milk on the door where Dick wouldn’t find them. He turned the corner and then paused just before his father’s study door as he heard Big Dick’s voice, edged with frustration and scotch.
“What did I tell you last week, Dick? Don’t let the valets at the club drive my car! Didn’t I say that?”
“I thought you meant the valet who scratched it last time, not all the valets!” Dick’s voice responded, his tone suggesting that his father’s meaning had only now come to light. Cassidy inched forward until he could see Big Dick standing in front of his desk and a few feet from Dick, who was sitting in a chair and looking up at his father.
“I think you knew full well what I meant, Dick. And after putting a dent in the garage door last week and letting that Veronica Mars girl destroy that surfboard I bought you-”
“I told you what happened!” Dick protested. “She got all pissed off at me for something I didn’t even do!”
“And I told you not to take it to school, didn’t I? This is strike three, Dick.”
“Oh come on, dad, I’m too old for three strikes!”
“You heard me, Richard. Drop your pants.” Big Dick said as rounded his desk and opened the bottom drawer. Cassidy’s heartbeat stuttered; he’d watched his father open the drawer that he knew contained only one thing dozens of times, but he had no idea that Dick was subject to the three strikes rule, too. But lately, their father had been short of temper and drinking more than usual. Cassidy stayed where he was, his lips parting slightly as his father withdrew the fraternity paddle from the desk drawer. It was a light oak color, rectangular, and painted with the Greek letters of his father’s ivy-league fraternity. A thick piece of cord was threaded through a neat hole in the handle, and Cassidy knew from experience that his dad liked to loop the cord around his wrist when he used the paddle. Dick shuffled his feet.
“Dad, come on!”
“I said drop your damn pants, Richard!” His father snapped, and Cassidy’s breath caught in his throat. He remained just out of the edge of his father’s sight as he watched Dick pout and drop his hands to the fly of his jeans. He unbuttoned the brass button and then unzipped them, letting them drop to the carpet. Thoughts of slaking his thirst fled from Cassidy’s mind as Dick’s taut, round rear end came into view. Cassidy’s hardon returned with such swiftness that it was almost painful.
“Bend over and put your hands on the desk.” Big Dick said in a tone that forbade argument, and Cassidy held his breath as he slipped past the door and stood on the other side. Thanks to the gap between the door and the wall and the position of his father’s desk, he could see most of Dick’s body, his muscular legs braced, his jeans a denim puddle around his ankles. His father was out of his line of site as he watched through the crack, but then the paddle hovered into view. He swallowed around the lump in his throat as his erection bobbed beneath his boxers. Just before the paddle drew back, Dick looked up and his eyes locked with Cassidy’s.
CRACK!
The paddle connected solidly with Dick’s left butt cheek, and Dick’s body jerked as he gave a yelp of pain and his hands tightened around the edge of the desk. Cassidy stared, unblinking, not sure if Dick could see him or not and he remained still as a deer trying to evade being sighted by a hunter. The paddle cracked against Dick’s bare ass again and he groaned, but as he did, he licked his lips and his blue eyes filled with arousal as he stared back at Cassidy, who then realized that not only could Dick see him, but he was getting off on Cassidy watching them. His erection quivered, and Cassidy’s right hand dropped down to the bulge that was tightening the material of his sleep pants across his crotch, and Dick smiled.
CRACK! WHAP!
“Owwww!” Dick whined and gyrated his hips, making his rear end lift up and down, showing Cassidy how pink the skin was getting, irregular rectangular marks flushed a light crimson. His blonde hair hung in his eyes and he flicked it aside so Cassidy could see his face. His features pinched up in pain but his face flushed with arousal. Cassidy squeezed his erection through the sleep pants as he imagined himself wielding the paddle, slapping Dick’s tight ass with the flat, hard wood until it turned a fiery red and then then slipping his erection between those tight, aching globes of flesh and letting it slide between them until he came, his issue pooling at the small of Dick’s muscular back as his brother begged him to stop. His free hand stroked over his own chest, his fingers tweaking at his own nipples until they stood out stiff against the white cotton of his tee shirt, and Dick squirmed, his legs shimmying.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Owww, God . . .” Dick whimpered, his breath coming faster, matching his little brother’s breathing as Cassidy slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his pants and curled his long fingers around his erection, one thumb slicking over the wet, swollen crown. Dick gave another strangled groan and now his tan, lean legs were wobbling in earnest. Cassidy bit his lower lip hard as he pumped his cock, leaning against the doorjamb, beads of perspiration forming at his temples. Dick’s eyes never left his, the gleaming blue depths half-hooded in lust. Cassidy imagined slapping and squeezing his brother’s tortured cheeks as he used them to satisfy his own carnal needs, and it drove him over the edge. Dick cried out as he watched his brother come just as his father landed the final blow on his ass, which was now bright red with broad red stripes. Cassidy’s mouth dropped open in a silent cry of pleasure as he shot into his pants, the contractions making his eyes roll as his flat stomach tensed and pleasure streamed through his groin in glowing tendrils. He swallowed hard and stepped back, pulling his hands from his pants and wiping them on his thigh with a grimace of disgust.
“Get up,” Big Dick said to his son in the office, and Dick bent down to tug up his jeans, concealing his own erection. Big Dick tossed the paddle back in the drawer and kicked it shut before he turned away from Dick to his wet bar, where he poured himself a double shot of scotch. “Go to your room.” He said without turning around, and Cassidy ran down the hall in his bare feet before Dick could reach the door. He skimmed off his sleep pants and dug out another pair from his dresser. He was hitching them up around his skinny hips when Dick appeared in his doorway.
“Better watch it, Beav. Dad’s on the warpath.” He said, and Cassidy nodded.
“Yeah, I heard.” He flicked a glance at the crotch of Dick’s jeans and saw that they were still distended. Something was filling the space between them, a heat and a scent that was only present when he and Dick were together, and he stepped back, giving Dick room to come inside.
Even if it didn’t make sense, he was the only one who Cassidy let inside anymore.
The door latch gave a soft click as Dick nudged it shut and then twisted the lock nub to the vertical position.
“Got anything in mind to make it all better?”
A sardonic smile twisted Cassidy’s bowed lips as he went over to the bed and made room for his big brother. As their father comforted himself alone in his office with his bottle of scotch, the brothers comforted each other in the only way that made sense to either of them anymore, emptying and closing the spaces between them until the slats of sunlight filtering through the blinds on Cassidy’s windows faded and went dark.
Fin
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: Dick/Cassidy Casablancas (heavily implied incest)
Genre: Kink (spanking, voyeurism)
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 1,760
Warnings: Mind the genre: there will be hitting.
Summary: Dick fails his dad’s discipline system and must submit to a spanking, which benefits Cassidy.
A/N: I don’t own these characters-they own me. They, in turn, are owned by Rob Thomas and the WB. No profit made, no infringement intended, this is just for fun. This one is for all my new buddies on Tumblr, but especially for Fangasmic. You guys are the best!
Three Strikes
By Lexalicious70
AKA NeptuneRising70.
Cassidy awoke in a mass of sweaty sheets, his cock rigid and almost painful beneath the plaid sleep pants he wore. He sat up all at once, kicking the sheets to the end of the bed, his nostrils flaring and catching the scent of his own sweat and musk. The dreams had come again, and God, he hated them, just another part of his own fucked up life that he couldn’t control. He swung his feet off the bed and planted them firmly on the hardwood floor-no carpets in his room, Big Dick didn’t trust him not to spill food, even though he was sixteen-and glanced at his clock radio on the nightstand. It was just after six p.m. on Sunday. He’d fallen asleep at about 4:30 while watching the Billabong Pro Gold Coast heats on Fuel, and as he glanced up at his muted television, he saw that the heats had given way to some extreme four wheeling show, and he clicked it off in disgust. Leave that shit for gearheads like the PCH’ers.
He stood, pushing back his short curls, and his reflection in the darkened TV screen did the same. His body was cycling down to a low, unsatisfied throb, leaving an ache deep in his testes as his erection finally deflated. His mouth and throat felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton and that he’d swallowed all but a few thick strands. He pulled a fresh white tee shirt from his drawer, yanking the damp one off and tossing it into the hamper before he opened his bedroom door and started down the hall toward the kitchen for one of the cold 20-ounce bottles of Pepsi he’d stored in the fridge the night before, behind the milk on the door where Dick wouldn’t find them. He turned the corner and then paused just before his father’s study door as he heard Big Dick’s voice, edged with frustration and scotch.
“What did I tell you last week, Dick? Don’t let the valets at the club drive my car! Didn’t I say that?”
“I thought you meant the valet who scratched it last time, not all the valets!” Dick’s voice responded, his tone suggesting that his father’s meaning had only now come to light. Cassidy inched forward until he could see Big Dick standing in front of his desk and a few feet from Dick, who was sitting in a chair and looking up at his father.
“I think you knew full well what I meant, Dick. And after putting a dent in the garage door last week and letting that Veronica Mars girl destroy that surfboard I bought you-”
“I told you what happened!” Dick protested. “She got all pissed off at me for something I didn’t even do!”
“And I told you not to take it to school, didn’t I? This is strike three, Dick.”
“Oh come on, dad, I’m too old for three strikes!”
“You heard me, Richard. Drop your pants.” Big Dick said as rounded his desk and opened the bottom drawer. Cassidy’s heartbeat stuttered; he’d watched his father open the drawer that he knew contained only one thing dozens of times, but he had no idea that Dick was subject to the three strikes rule, too. But lately, their father had been short of temper and drinking more than usual. Cassidy stayed where he was, his lips parting slightly as his father withdrew the fraternity paddle from the desk drawer. It was a light oak color, rectangular, and painted with the Greek letters of his father’s ivy-league fraternity. A thick piece of cord was threaded through a neat hole in the handle, and Cassidy knew from experience that his dad liked to loop the cord around his wrist when he used the paddle. Dick shuffled his feet.
“Dad, come on!”
“I said drop your damn pants, Richard!” His father snapped, and Cassidy’s breath caught in his throat. He remained just out of the edge of his father’s sight as he watched Dick pout and drop his hands to the fly of his jeans. He unbuttoned the brass button and then unzipped them, letting them drop to the carpet. Thoughts of slaking his thirst fled from Cassidy’s mind as Dick’s taut, round rear end came into view. Cassidy’s hardon returned with such swiftness that it was almost painful.
“Bend over and put your hands on the desk.” Big Dick said in a tone that forbade argument, and Cassidy held his breath as he slipped past the door and stood on the other side. Thanks to the gap between the door and the wall and the position of his father’s desk, he could see most of Dick’s body, his muscular legs braced, his jeans a denim puddle around his ankles. His father was out of his line of site as he watched through the crack, but then the paddle hovered into view. He swallowed around the lump in his throat as his erection bobbed beneath his boxers. Just before the paddle drew back, Dick looked up and his eyes locked with Cassidy’s.
CRACK!
The paddle connected solidly with Dick’s left butt cheek, and Dick’s body jerked as he gave a yelp of pain and his hands tightened around the edge of the desk. Cassidy stared, unblinking, not sure if Dick could see him or not and he remained still as a deer trying to evade being sighted by a hunter. The paddle cracked against Dick’s bare ass again and he groaned, but as he did, he licked his lips and his blue eyes filled with arousal as he stared back at Cassidy, who then realized that not only could Dick see him, but he was getting off on Cassidy watching them. His erection quivered, and Cassidy’s right hand dropped down to the bulge that was tightening the material of his sleep pants across his crotch, and Dick smiled.
CRACK! WHAP!
“Owwww!” Dick whined and gyrated his hips, making his rear end lift up and down, showing Cassidy how pink the skin was getting, irregular rectangular marks flushed a light crimson. His blonde hair hung in his eyes and he flicked it aside so Cassidy could see his face. His features pinched up in pain but his face flushed with arousal. Cassidy squeezed his erection through the sleep pants as he imagined himself wielding the paddle, slapping Dick’s tight ass with the flat, hard wood until it turned a fiery red and then then slipping his erection between those tight, aching globes of flesh and letting it slide between them until he came, his issue pooling at the small of Dick’s muscular back as his brother begged him to stop. His free hand stroked over his own chest, his fingers tweaking at his own nipples until they stood out stiff against the white cotton of his tee shirt, and Dick squirmed, his legs shimmying.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Owww, God . . .” Dick whimpered, his breath coming faster, matching his little brother’s breathing as Cassidy slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his pants and curled his long fingers around his erection, one thumb slicking over the wet, swollen crown. Dick gave another strangled groan and now his tan, lean legs were wobbling in earnest. Cassidy bit his lower lip hard as he pumped his cock, leaning against the doorjamb, beads of perspiration forming at his temples. Dick’s eyes never left his, the gleaming blue depths half-hooded in lust. Cassidy imagined slapping and squeezing his brother’s tortured cheeks as he used them to satisfy his own carnal needs, and it drove him over the edge. Dick cried out as he watched his brother come just as his father landed the final blow on his ass, which was now bright red with broad red stripes. Cassidy’s mouth dropped open in a silent cry of pleasure as he shot into his pants, the contractions making his eyes roll as his flat stomach tensed and pleasure streamed through his groin in glowing tendrils. He swallowed hard and stepped back, pulling his hands from his pants and wiping them on his thigh with a grimace of disgust.
“Get up,” Big Dick said to his son in the office, and Dick bent down to tug up his jeans, concealing his own erection. Big Dick tossed the paddle back in the drawer and kicked it shut before he turned away from Dick to his wet bar, where he poured himself a double shot of scotch. “Go to your room.” He said without turning around, and Cassidy ran down the hall in his bare feet before Dick could reach the door. He skimmed off his sleep pants and dug out another pair from his dresser. He was hitching them up around his skinny hips when Dick appeared in his doorway.
“Better watch it, Beav. Dad’s on the warpath.” He said, and Cassidy nodded.
“Yeah, I heard.” He flicked a glance at the crotch of Dick’s jeans and saw that they were still distended. Something was filling the space between them, a heat and a scent that was only present when he and Dick were together, and he stepped back, giving Dick room to come inside.
Even if it didn’t make sense, he was the only one who Cassidy let inside anymore.
The door latch gave a soft click as Dick nudged it shut and then twisted the lock nub to the vertical position.
“Got anything in mind to make it all better?”
A sardonic smile twisted Cassidy’s bowed lips as he went over to the bed and made room for his big brother. As their father comforted himself alone in his office with his bottle of scotch, the brothers comforted each other in the only way that made sense to either of them anymore, emptying and closing the spaces between them until the slats of sunlight filtering through the blinds on Cassidy’s windows faded and went dark.
Fin