Once a Nerd Ch. 12 - Sex Stories

Once a Nerd Ch. 12

... no, it was—it was fine."

"Alright, good, let's go again."

—what?

"Dean, wait, I thought—!"

When his hand comes downout of goddamn nowhere, the force of Mjölnir behind it, a sobbing cry is throttled from me. Is it because his hand's...wet? Is that why it feels like a lashing of fire? My vision blurs, and I'm ashamed to cry over something like this. It was just so—fucking sudden!

"Color."

...color?

Thoughts are shapeless and fuzzy. I'm not sure what he means or wants. My stomach feels heavy as an anvil. Skin, buzzing. When I do remember, I'm stumped. I can't decide what side of the line I've crashed on. Is it too painful to feel anything good? Or, did the pain synthesize into something too good to explain? My erection hasn't flagged. Instead, it's grown uncomfortable where it's pinned to Dean's thigh. Sticky, wet.

"I-I...I don't know!"

"We'll keep going until you do."

This time, the strikes come fast and too many to count. Where his arm was previously braced against my back, his left hand now makes a vise at the base of my skull. I can't move, and the helplessness of it almost numbs me with terror. He sticks to the pattern from before, never hitting the same place twice in a row, but it's a game of Simon I'd never win. Later, I'll marvel at the control he exercises over his own strength, because the force behind his hand falls somewhere between unbearable and unpleasant. Not too much, not too little.

The fleshy underside of my ass causes a ...

... special delirium, as the blows shoot through my midsection and land in my groin like sparks spraying from an acetylene torch. There'sno chance at swallowing a sound now, and Dean must be delighting in it. Every deafening crack punches something from my throat, mostly tight screams threaded with tears. When I start to lose more breath than I can catch:

"Red! Red, red, fuck,please—!"

He stops immediately, and my assblisters. It throbs, burning hotter than the surface of the motherfucking sun. "Good job, baby, that's it. Breathe, Sammy, come on. You're takin' itso fucking good, baby. I'm so proud of you."

Overloaded with sensation, I flinch violently at the flattening of his palm to my lower back. He slides warm, gentle patterns from my hamstrings to between my shoulder blades, and I can feel the rampant tremors more clearly as they bounce off his palm. All the while, he's washing deep, threadbare praises over me: beautiful, brave,perfect. He doesn't stop the ministrations until my shaking does.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, and from his tone, I know my word is sacred law.

I couldn't tell you up from down. I have no idea what I want or need. Dean's strong, and it hurts much worse than I could've prepared myself for, but he's—he wasright. I'm so turned on, I'm fucking dizzy with it. My cock is an ache impossible to ignore, pounding with blood and need. It isn't just the pain. It's everything. This subservient position. Being at the mercy of Dean's whim while ...