“Please, sir.” Oh, that was lovely. Mischa’s heart didn’t stand a chance today.
Mischa tightened his grip slightly, and Tom yelped, writhing a bit. Sensitive. Tom’s nerves probably had something to do with that. Mischa tightened his hands.
“I... Sir?”
He kept his grip. “Yes, Tom?”
“Should I... Do you want me to be quiet, sir?” Such a good boy.
“No, I want to hear you. Everything. Even if you get mad at me.” Tom looked skeptical. He would soon learn otherwise.
Tom nodded, gasping through the discomfort. Mischa made the grip tighter, knowing that he was close to crossing the border between discomfort and pain. Tom automatically twisted his hips, but put his head back and panted.
“Good boy. Breathe through it.” Mischa tightened his grip again, and he knew that he was causing Tom pain now. The boy was gasping, long, rasping breaths with a whimper now and then. Mischa enhanced the pressure, reveling in Tom’s fight to contain the pain. When he did it again, Mischa had Tom shouting, the boy’s shoulders leaving the mattress and hands flailing. Tom didn’t try to grip Mischa’s hands, though, his sub’s submission too thorough.
“Back down. Lie down.” Mischa didn’t relent, didn’t make it easy on the boy. Tom’s head fell back down, and he was groaning, hands clutching the sheets. Oh, how Mischa enjoyed this, cock hard and heart swelling from watching the struggling boy.
“I’m going to increase the pressure again in a little while.” It was difficult to tell if Tom’s moan came from the pain or the dread of what was coming. “This time, it’s going to be hard for you to take, but you can scream or cry if you need to. Then I’ll count down like I did when I played with your nipples, remember?”
Tom nodded, his breathing sounding labored now.
“Okay, here we go.” Mischa tightened his fingers to what he knew was going to feel unbearable for Tom.
The boy screamed, his body arching to contain the pain. He was sweating and writhing, but his hands stayed clutching the sheets. Mischa started the countdown.
“Ten, nine, eight...” Tom kept screaming, a desperate note in his voice now. “Seven, six, five...” Mischa tightened his hands just a bit, and Tom’s head went up, the boy shouting and keening. “Four, three...” He could see the desperation in Tom’s eyes now, the pain almost too much. “Two, one, zero.” Mischa let go, Tom falling back in the bed, panting and whimpering. He leaned over his sub, grabbing Tom’s hair and kissing him hard.
Mischa didn’t allow Tom to catch his breath, didn’t give the boy any time to think that he couldn’t do this. Tom had gone soft from the pain, but as he lost himself in the kiss, he hardened again.
Mischa rubbed against his boy’s stomach, letting Tom know how much Mischa enjoyed this. Then he sat back up, grabbing his hard cock and looking down at his boy. “Do you see what you’re doing to me?” He stroked himself and moaned from the pleasure. His sound was echoed by Tom’s. Mischa bent down and kissed him again, hard. “And you liked it, too.”
For the first time, Tom looked rebellious. Mischa smirked and didn’t even let him open his mouth.
“Oh, yes, you liked it. It was so good in the beginning, and then the pain blew your mind. You didn’t like the last part, but you still need it.” Tom looked crestfallen. “Did I get that right?”
Tom searched Mischa’s eyes for a long time, and then nodded reluctantly.
“Good boy!” He gave Tom a kiss as a reward for being that honest. Then Mischa kissed him again, wanting to keep him hard and needy. Tom responded beautifully, moaning into the kiss, cock hard.
Mischa pulled back, stroking Tom’s hair off his face and looking into his eyes. “So, you liked it, and that’s why we’re going to do it again.” Mischa waited for the protest, but Tom managed not to speak. The boy showed an impressive level of insight into his own needs.
“Only this time, you’re going to ask me for it.” Tom started protesting, and Mischa hushed him. “You’re going to ask me to begin, and then you’re going to ask me for more, until it hurts as much as it did before. And don’t worry; I’ll know when it does from your screams. Then I’ll start counting down again. Understand?”
Tom was wide-eyed now. “I don’t think I can, sir. It... it hurt really badly.”
Mischa smiled. “Oh, yes, you can. Because I want you to do it.” Tom held Mischa’s eyes, and then Mischa could see the change go through his body as he accepted what was going to happen. He was still breathing heavily, but his cock was hard, and he lay back on the soft mattress. Mischa felt satisfaction rush through him at the sight.
“I’m ready, sir.” Tom’s voice was quiet and sure. Mischa had to fight to keep his moan back.
“Then we’ll start.” He grabbed Tom’s balls, making the boy jump. He looked into Tom’s eyes, waiting.
“Please, sir. Please make me hurt.” Oh, this was better than Mischa could ever have hoped for. He started to tighten his fingers. Tom sighed and closed his eyes, riding the feeling. It was amazing to see that the sub already knew this first part would be good, and then he just went with it.
“More, sir, please.” Mischa didn’t waste any time in increasing the pressure, going straight for the pain this time. Tom felt it, a whimper accompanying each breath. He opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at Mischa. His words were exactly what Mischa wished for, though.
“More, sir. More pain.” Tom cried out as Mischa tightened the grip around Tom’s balls, the sweat starting to sheen his body. Mischa kept the pressure steady, enjoying the sight of Tom’s fight to manage the pain. Mischa caught his eyes, taking in his pain and waiting for his words.
Tom whimpered. “It hurts so much, sir.” He arched and pushed his head back.
“As much as before I started to count down last time?” Mischa knew it didn’t; the Dom just wanted to see how far Tom was prepared to go to preserve his honesty.
A long way, it seemed. “No, sir, not as much. Please, give me more.” Mischa did, and Tom screamed, his hands flailing to find a grip on the sheets, his pillow, anything. Mischa kept pressing hard, knowing how much this hurt. He was willing to start counting now if the boy told him to.
“Are you there yet?” Tom sobbed, whimpering. Then he shook his head. “Not... not yet, sir. A little...Ah! A little bit more.” Mischa couldn’t help feeling admiration for that level of honesty. Of course, it was going to make his boy scream. He tightened his hands until they were as tight as last time.
Tom screamed and screamed, his shoulders leaving the bed and his hands scrambling, briefly closing around Mischa’s wrists and then letting go again. Mischa reveled in seeing him fighting the pain, desperately trying to cope.
“I’ll start counting now.” The boy couldn’t be that far from his limit, obedience or not. “Ten, nine, eight...” Tom’s sounds were deep yells, each one dragged out of him by Mischa’s hands. “Seven, six, five...” There were tears in Tom’s eyes now, the boy so close to crying. Mischa closed his hands just a bit tighter; the tears would be good for Tom. “Four, three, two...” Tom stubbornly held on, keeping it together, refusing to give in. “One, zero.” He let go, and Tom made a hoarse sound, more animal than human.
Mischa lay down, scooping the boy up in his arms, willing Tom to let go. Tom was tense, protesting the embrace. He was gasping, almost sobbing, but stubbornly refusing to cry. He still had one hand clutching the sheet, and he was sniffing almost angrily to keep the tears away. Mischa only held on, rocking him and gently stroking his back.
After a while, Tom got calmer, and Mischa lowered him on the pillow. He gently stroked his sub’s hair, caressing the soft skin. Tom persistently refused to meet Mischa’s eyes. Then Mischa gently grabbed Tom’s hair and jaw, turning his boy’s face so Tom was forced to look into Mischa’s eyes.
“Do you need another countdown?” Mischa spoke softly, kindly. Tom’s eyes widened, and the boy was about to protest when Mischa stopped him. “No, think about it. Do you need another countdown?” If the boy answered no, Mischa wouldn’t push. But he hoped that Tom would say yes.
Tom was staring and didn’t try to talk when Mischa moved his hand. Then Tom swallowed around a sob.
“Yes, sir. Please do it again.”
Mischa immediately bent down, rewarding Tom’s insight with a kiss, comforting and soothing. Then he leaned back up, smiling. He stroked Tom’s cheek. “Well done. I won’t make you ask again.” He moved down between Tom’s legs, gently caressing his sub’s prone body on his way. “I won’t increase the pressure gradually this time; the pain will be there from the start, and then I’ll count down from fifteen.” Tom’s eyes got nervous at the higher number. Mischa wasn’t worried; it would hurt more, but it would be a pure pain, free of the fear and anxiety of the ever-increasing pressure. And Tom needed it.
Mischa waited until Tom nodded, then grabbed his ball sac tightly, immediately giving him the full pain. Tom roared, and Mischa started the countdown. At twelve, Tom was still shouting. At ten, he went quiet, and Mischa knew that he had gotten to the point where he couldn’t understand the pain anymore, couldn’t work around it. At seven, he finally started to cry, and down to zero his sobs were long and hoarse and hardly human.
Mischa let go, and this time, Tom came easily into his arms, the sobs wracking his boy’s body. Mischa hugged him, stroking and petting him and letting him weep. Tom cried for a long time, and the Dom let him, rubbing Tom’s back until the boy had cried himself out. Mischa grabbed a blanket and pulled it over them. Then he kissed his boy’s hair.
“Rest a bit. You did so well. Now relax.” Tom sighed and let go, falling asleep just like that. Mischa kept his arms around Tom, holding the tired boy. It had been a first scene exceeding anything he could have hoped for.
***
Tom was woken slowly by the gentle caresses to his back. He was lying on his stomach in a soft bed, and he felt as if he had been sleeping for a week.
The touches turned into a massage, and he moaned quietly with the pleasure. He heard Mischa chuckle and turned his head after the sound, opening his eyes.
“Hey, sleepyhead, welcome back.”
“Good morning, sir.” He snuggled into the touches.
Mischa laughed. “Well, you did sleep for a long time, but not that long. It’s still evening.” Tom sat up, surprised.
“Really? I feel like I’ve slept forever.” Still half asleep, he reached down to scratch his balls. “Oh! Oww. Oh, I’m sore.”
Mischa smiled. “Well, I did do a pretty good job of it, if I have to say so myself.”
Tom stared at Mischa speechlessly. Then he giggled. He tried to regain his composure, but he couldn’t keep it in and burst out laughing.
“Here I am, in serious pain, and you’re proud of it?” Tom really tried to keep up the outrage.
Mischa frowned. “Serious pain? Really?” He looked a little worried.
“Okay, serious tenderness, then. It’s the principle of it.” It was really difficult to keep being offended when Mischa was that close, though. And those gentle caresses were downright cheating. Tom gave up, closing his eyes and leaning into it.
Mischa chuckled, but indulgently kept stroking Tom. So good. Then Tom got a hard slap to his hip. He opened his eyes and was about to protest, but Mischa silenced him with a kiss. This man was efficient in everything he did.
“Enough of this. Let’s go talk.” Mischa got up, put on a robe, and went into the living room. Tom followed, walking a little bowlegged from his sore balls. He refused to admit that it felt pretty good.
Mischa stood by the couch, watching him with a smile. “You feel it?” He sounded only a little teasing.
“You bet I do. Sir, I mean.”
Mischa smiled his crooked smile. “Sit down. I’ll get us something to drink.” He was back a minute later with sandwiches and something to drink. Tom drank thirstily, grabbed a sandwich, and then sank back in the soft cushions. Mischa pulled him closer, so Tom leaned against Mischa.
“How do you feel?” It sounded as if Mischa was genuinely interested in the answer, so Tom took a minute to think about it.
“Surprisingly good, actually.” He really did. “I really hated you that second time, you know.” Tom blushed; he hadn’t meant his words to come out quite that bluntly.
“I know. What you need is not always the same as what you want. You coped well, though.”
Tom turned his head and stared. “First, I freaked out, then I refused to acknowledge what you did to me, and last, but not least, I started bawling. That’s a criterion of success in this world?”
“First, you hit a limit and told me that, so I could work with it, then you tried your best, and, in the end, you surrendered, trusted me enough to push you like you needed. Yes, that’s a criterion of success.” Mischa’s voice was so sure.
Tom pondered the answer. “Well, when you put it that way...” He gave up on his attempt to be cocky. “The middle part wasn’t very nice.” Suddenly the memory of his confusion and the pain was so clear.
“Because it hurt?” Mischa’s voice was carefully neutral.
“No. Well, yes, it hurt almost more than I could take, but it wasn’t that.” Tom rubbed his leg, trying to put it the right way. “It was more... I felt really lonely.” He couldn’t look at Mischa. “I felt as if you were betraying me, giving me more pain than I could take, and I didn’t understand why. It made me feel angry. And hurt.”
Mischa hugged Tom, not contesting his words. “Did you understand afterward? When I made you do it again?”
Tom looked up at him. “Actually, I’m still not sure. I know that it felt really good to cry, to give in. I could give up fighting. I... didn’t have to hold it together anymore.” Suddenly, he felt choked again. Mischa rubbed his arm.
“You need the surrender.” Mischa kissed his hair, holding him close. “And don’t worry; it isn’t going to be this tough every time. But sometimes a Dom will push you, and sometimes you won’t know how to let go. That’s what the Dom’s there for.”
Tom hesitated. “What am I here for?” He knew it was a strange question, but he had to ask.
“You’re here to be pushed, to fight me, and to give in. And, right now, you’re here to be fucked.” Without giving Tom a chance to do anything, Mischa pushed him back on the sofa, kissing him until Tom had only a vague memory of his own name. Looking very pleased with himself, Mischa then got up.