Jon wailing for his big brothers to be nice to him,,, so so close and they won't let him cum because he's acting all tough and better than them ,,, until he's sniffling and trembling like the cute little brat he is and just weeps and begs and can't handle it anymore <3 because he just needs his big brothers to take care of him no matter how tough he likes to act <33 just the mutt of the group who gets all confused. Ough. I'm normal
- skiesandcandy
@skiesandcandy Look how normal I am too.
Jon would be losing his mind, but well that ship had sailed about twenty minutes of this torture ago. Okay maybe not torture, it felt good, but he needed to cum so badly and both of his brothers boyfriends seemed determined not to let him. Every time he tried to thrust his hips down, seeking that extra pressure he’d be caught, forced to remain still, holding back whimpers at the slow deliberate pace they had both contrived.
“You just have to ask nicely and we’ll let you come,” Gerry tweaked his nipple and Jon couldn’t hold back a yelp, both his tits were red and swollen, being used to drive him mad just as much as his cunt. He glared, though the look was rather ruined by the drool, dripping from his mouth and the glassy look in his eyes. Gerry grinned back at him, before lifting him up off Tim’s mouth, as the two switched places for what must be the fifth time, easily lifting him like he was a doll. It wasn’t fair, said one of Jon’s last fully coherent thoughts, as Gerry’s tongue flicked against his clit, another moan slipping out, he wasn’t allowed to have any breaks.
“Yeah buddy just say please, we won’t even make you apologize for pretending to be tough.” Tim’s grin was just as smug as Gerry’s his face wet from being buried between Jon’s thighs. Jon could feel the last remaining bits of his sanity snapping as Tim’s teeth worried at his neck, no doubt giving him a bruise that would be impossible to hide later.
“P-Please,” The tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes finally burst their dam as Jon wailed. He kept repeating his words over and over, no longer able to form sentences that weren’t please and more. He was lifted again, only to be seated on Tim’s cock, the stretch wasn’t painful after almost an hour of defining but it was enough to have Jon squeak. Which of course had both of the other two laughing at just how cute he was.
“Go ahead baby come for us,” Gerry’s fingers squeezed his clit as Tim battered him from the inside. The twin sensations were too much and Jon went rigid, his whole body shaking as he came wailing as he buried his face against Gerry’s chest. They both stopped for a moment as Jon rode the aftershocks twitching between them, before going limp, panting as drool dripped down his chin.
Then almost as though they both could talk with just their eyes meeting over Jon’s shoulder, Tim resumed thrusting into him, while Gerry went back to groping his tits, squeezing them till Jon whined. He squirmed, overwhelmed as they pushed him from being under-stimulated too far too much.
“You said you’d stop,” His voice sounded wrecked as he managed to gasp out the words between thrusts. His words didn’t really match his actions as he clamped down each time he was lowered, cute little moans undercutting the complaint.
“No we said we’d let you come,” Tim sounded downright gleeful, as though he had just told the funniest joke. Another hard thrust and the attention Gerry was giving his clit had Jon cumming again, but this time neither paused for a moment. Gerry kissed him gently, a star contrast to what the two were otherwise doing.
“We didn’t say anything about stopping, did we? You haven’t said sorry yet after all. “ Gerry pulled away from his lips, the teasing smile back on his face, “I think you can handle a bit more if you’re so tough.”
skiesandcandy:
Look if the spanking/paddling doesn’t have fauxcest and or ageplay undertones WHAT is the point. Elias should treat Jon like a misbehaving child. Treat him like he’s throwing a tantrum. Jon should whimper and sniffle into his chest and squirm because it hurt so bad but did he do good? Did he do it? He’s sorry, he’s so sorry, can he be better? Is he better? He can be a good boy. Elias should soothe him as he jumps at every bit of pain. I just. I am of the opinion that They
“Why do you insist on acting like a child Jon?” Jon stopped his rant immediately with an offended sound that he would deny to his grave sounded anything other than dignified. Elias’s expression was, if Jon had to pick something, almost disappointed. Jon didn’t feel vindicated though, or like he was winning this conversation. He tried to regain the threads of his complaints, but before he could resume Elias had stepped into his space, practically forcing him backward, bumping into his desk.
“I am not, I’m just-Elias!” Jon practically yelped as he was spun around by the other man. Finding himself now lying prone over his own desk, which luckily had been clear, save for a few statements. Trying to force himself up he met with no success Elias easily holding him down a hand planted on his back.
“You are Jon, I’ve tried so hard to help you, but you always insist on throwing a tantrum when the answers aren’t just handed to you.” Jon growled still trying to get free as Elias made no move to let him up, just held him there, like he wasn’t even trying. “So perhaps I should treat you like the child you insist on acting as.”
“What does that-?” Jon started only to be cut off as Elias stripped his lower half, almost in one smooth motion. Jon cursed his newfound habit of preferring loose clothing, it kept it from running at his scars, but it was also fairly easy to remove with one hand. Not that Jon would have considered that downside, not expecting to be stripped bare by his boss. “Elias stop it!”
“Hush Jon, now I admit this isn’t really in style anymore, mores the pity. I unfortunately do not have a paddle, I suppose my hand will have to do.” Jon’s struggles ceased for a moment, as his brain finally made the connection, feeling his face flush. No he could not be about to be spanked by Elias, he was an adult, this was-.
“A-ahh,” With a yelp Jon’s paralysis was broken as Elias had apparently taken his silence as him being ready. Bringing his hand down hard across his bare ass, the sound echoing in the quiet Archives. Part of him was happy that this was happening after everyone went home, or he really might have made a go at dying from embarrassment. As it was he was sure two parts of him were quite red, especially as Elias brought his hand down again, striking the same spot,
“I think ten total should be enough for the lesson to sink in.” Jon wanted to scream, Elias sounded like he was discussing his performance review, completely unbothered. He did scream at the third hit, pain lancing through him, he could already feel tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to muffle any further sound, he would not let Elias know just how much it was hurting.
“I wish I didn’t have to resort to such methods Jon, I don’t like to punish you.” Jon would have pointed out that he could just stop, if he truly didn’t want to do this, but something told Jon that the other man was only pretending to be regretful. The fourth and fifth hit were done in quick succession, giving Jon know time to brace himself. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, but he had managed to stay quiet, which he took as a win. Though considering he was still pinned to his desk, not much of one.
“That’s it, just five more, you’re doing very good Jon” Jon wanted to tell him to shut up, he could count just fine. At the same time he carefully shoved the little part of him that jumped at the praise into the box he shoved all inconvenient feelings in, this was not the time. “I can even reduce it by two if you tell me why you’re being punished.”
“What?” Jon squeaked forgetting his plan to stay silent at the audacity of the question. He was not about to entertain this farce by playing into it. His behavior was not the one currently crossing the line.
“Come now Jon you can’t already have forgotten.” Jon could practically see the smirk on Elias’s face. He shook his head, he wouldn’t be playing along, no matter how much he dreaded further punishment, he was right damnit.
“Fuck off,” Jon immediately regretted the words as Elias retaliated, the strike sharper than the other five, almost as though he knew precisely where would hurt the most. Unable to hold back a scream the tears he had been holding back flooding down his cheeks. He wanted to curl up, but he was still pinned, and his weak struggles were still useless.
“No need for such language, seems seven more it is then.” Jon tried to object, that had been six, but the cries fell on deaf ears, as the punishment resumed. Jon wailed through the next three, Elias only pausing between them to allow the pain to fade slightly before striking him again. He had stopped trying to stem his tears at this point, it hurt, it hurt so much, he just wanted it to stop, please.
“Please no more please,” Jon couldn’t keep from begging, the belief that he would take this with a stiff upper lip was thoroughly broken. Now he just wanted the pain to stop. His begging was unrewarded as Elias’s hand came down again, and Jon broke. Tears flowed freely as he wailed, he needed it to stop, god why did it hurt so much?
“Three more Jon, then it’s over,” Elias’s voice was far more gentle than it had any right to be, as though he wasn’t the one doing this. As though it was all Jon’s fault, Elias was just doing what he must. The part of Jon that could think logically vanished around the seventh hit, smacked right out of him. Jon tried to hold onto the feeling that it wasn’t his fault through the next two hits, but it slipped away. All he could focus on now was the pain, god he could have stopped it, if he had just admitted to Elias what he had done wrong.
“I’m sorry Elias please, I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t listen, please dad,” Jon whimpered and whined, bracing himself as he spoke but there were no more hits forthcoming. Instead he was hoisted up into Elias’s lap, the man having sat down in the chair they used for statement givers. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but Elias was careful to keep pressure off the worst of the bruises, though he knew sitting in his chair for the next few days would be excruciating.
“Well I suppose we can forget the last one,” Elias’s soft words were a bit out of sync with his hungry expression as he looked at his Jon, not that he could see, his face being buried against his chest. Jon nodded emphatically into the fabric, as his mumbled litany of please and apologies continued. He was sorry, it hurt so much, no more, he can be better, he can be good, please dad.
“Shh,” Elias rubbed his free hand over his back, the other bracing him in his lap. Jon could feel soft kisses being pressed to his hair, though his face was still hidden. His whimpered words slowly tapered off until he was silent clinging tightly to Elias. Every shift of his hips brought new pain, but Elias was so gentle each time he flinched, soothing him. In the morning he would look back at this and probably regret it, but for now he just leaned into the comfort the other man was offering. “See I knew you could be a good boy for me.”
The way helen talks to Jon makes me a little insane. U know she talks to him like that when they fuck. Him currently struggling to heal around her sharp sharp hands and her going oh, that looks like it hurts. Let's get you all fixed up. Jon inhaling and shivering,,, covered in little injuries,,,, her talking to him in that same damn voice that gets to him more than he'll ever admit. I just think he should think about her whenever he's getting off by himself. And she should know about it. And maybe catch him red handed.
-skiesandcandy
@skiesandcandy Normal, normal, I am normal
Jon was thinking about Helen. Thinking how her hands slid into his stomach, pressing down on parts that weren’t supposed to ever be accessible, except in case of grievous bodily injury. Well he supposed grievous bodily injury was subjective when your body seemed happy to knit back together no matter the damage. Thinking of her voice, how she teased him, even when she had flayed him apart across her carpets.
Of course those thoughts had him grinding against one hand without thought, his other tracing on of the spiral patterns developing on his stomach. His breathing was shallow, short breaths, not as shallow as it was when his lungs no longer resided in his chest, making him feel as though he was suffocating, even if he didn’t need to breathe.
His nails were nowhere near long enough to truly damage himself, only earning a few drops of blood as the wounds sealed immediately. Still the pain made him moan, pressing his fingers inside, hoping the memory would be enough.
“Helen, please more please,” Repeating her name as though that would help, his hand working faster, groaning as his orgasm still hovered tantalizingly out of reach. He kept his eyes closed, whimpering her name, he could imagine what she would say, chiding him for getting all worked up, how much of a monster he was to need to be hurt to cum. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the door creaking open, well that’s not quite true, he just chalked it up to vivid imagination, it was only natural.
Helen, please, please, I need-ahh!” The scream was from equal parts surprise and pain as ten long knife-tipped fingers dug into his shoulders, yanking him out of his chair to pin him to the floor. His t-shirt that he had stripped down to was shredded easily, as was much of his skin, lying in tatters like the fabric.
“So sorry Jon, I would have popped in much sooner if I knew what fun you were having without me,” Jon whimpered as the she traced his sternum with one long sharp nail, her skin cutting through muscle, scraping the bone. This wound didn’t heal nearly as quickly his self-inflicted ones making him moan, it was excruciating, it was embarrassing, it was exhilarating.
“Oh that must hurt,” She ground her nail deeper, hooking just under the end of the bone, like she was going to leverage it up, pop his ribcage clean open, tearing through skin and muscle. He wondered if she could, what it would feel like, would it hurt more or less than cutting it free? Despite the pain in his arms he managed to get a hand back between his legs, it didn’t take much grinding against his clit to have him cumming. His hips bucked up driving the finger deeper, he Knew that she had just skewered his liver, and it probably said something about himself that if he hadn’t just came that might have done it.
“Greedy little thing, did I say you could do that?” Helen pursed her lips, as though in disappointment, her free hand cupping his chin. She lingered there for a moment, spreading his blood across his own lips, before sliding her hand to his throat. With what looked like no effort, and probably was, she lifted him by the throat. Jon instinctively struggled, whimpering, his legs kicking out, but it was like she was never where she had been a moment before.
“Such a bad boy,” She pulled him close her lips soft against his, the only soft thing about her right now, letting him wind his legs around her, letting him breathe. The reprieve was short lived, her free hand impaling him through his back, as she released his throat. It was bruised and bloody, healing enough so he could breathe, but not without pain. Though it was nothing compared to the nicer curling around his spine.
“Hmm do you really need this?” He could feel as scratched at the bone, likely leaving spirals etched into them. “I could just take it out you know, just for a bit.”
“P-please,” Jon whimpered against her, not sure if he was asking her to do it, pull his bones out. He’d heal, he Knew he would, but it would hurt, it would feel like he was dying. He wanted to experience, to Know exactly how it felt, but he was also terrified,
“Oh I suppose I can spoil you a bit.” Helen shifted him somehow, and Jon found himself now laying on his desk, prone his cheek pressed against a running tape recorder. He was certain he hadn’t turned that one on, but he supposed he should have expected it. These were some of his last coherent thoughts, until hours later when he would wake up curled in Helen’s lap, a fresh statement being waved beneath his nose, or if Helen was particularly benevolent, and actual statement giver. For now though he could only focus on Helen’s fingers curling around what the Eye informed him was his cervical spine.
“Now let’s see if I can get it all out in one piece.”
Jon was desperate, and also an idiot, that was the only explanation he could come up for why he had ended up in his current position. Kneeling in front of Peter offering his mouth for just the chance to talk to Elias on the phone. In his defense he had tried everything else, short of breaking in to prison talk to his da-to Elias. So yes desperate and stupid about summed up his current state.
“Go on then, deals a deal,” Jon glared at Peter, he sounded far too amused, probably thought the whole thing was quite funny. Still he was right, so Jon swallowed his pride, ignoring the obvious joke about swallowing Peter would no doubt make, luckily unlike Elias Peter couldn’t just dip into his head. Despite Jon’s intentions it was hard not to hesitate once Peter’s dick was freed from his pants, honestly it was just excessive. Something of Jon’s thoughts must have shown on his face as Peter laughed, “What too much for you? Thought you would be used to taking whatever’s given to you.”
“What’s that-,” Jon’s indignant response, underlined with static was cut off as Peter apparently decided that he was no longer interested in being patient. Hooking one of his hands in Jon’s hair, the other gripping his jaw to guide him onto his cock. He didn’t go far, just pressing the tip against his tongue, but the stretch was already uncomfortable and Jon doubted he was going to be content with that.
“No questions, use your mouth for something useful,” Peter released his jaw, not that Jon could close it, but kept a grip on his hair, giving a slight tug and he got the hint. Bracing himself with his hands on Peter’s thighs he slowly pressed forward, it wasn’t comfortable like with El-, like normal, the stretch making his jaw cramp already. Bobbing his head slowly, he tried to take more of him, only to choke when he went any further than about a third of the way. God he probably looked a mess, drool already dripping down his chin. Pulling together a bit of composure he looked pointedly at the phone, trying to remind Peter of the deal without his voice.
“I’m sure he’ll call soon, probably already watching you,” Jon froze, realizing that yes, the constant feeling of being watched had shifted, now it was focused on him, watching him humiliate himself. The feeling made Jon shudder, his traitorous body growing wet immediately. He wanted to scream, he wasn’t here, but that didn’t seem to matter considering the wetness he could feel between his thighs as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. Instead he moaned as his shifting gave him the barest pressure, the sound muffled by the cock in his mouth.
“That really all it takes? Just knowing he can see you like this and you’re dripping?” Jon whined, it wasn’t his fault, not that he could defend himself, Peter clearly decided that he had enough time to warm up. The grip on his hair turned harsh, yanking him forward, his cock battering the back of his throat. He was choking, and he still had more to take, and Peter seemed intent to have him take it all. Panic started to overcome his shame as he realized that he may have made a mistake.
The phone ringing cut through his panic, and Peter’s grip eased slightly, letting him pull back enough to get his mouth free. Jon tried to catch his breath coughing and spluttering, a vision of himself slipped into his head, as thought he was looking in a mirror. He looked a wreck already, covered in drool, lips swollen and red. He didn’t know if it was the eye or Elias but either way shame bubbled up inside him, to be seen like this. Pushing those thoughts away as best he could he stared at the phone, some part of him, the part that Jon loathed when he was in his right mind was screaming that his da- Elias was calling, and Peter wasn’t picking up.
“Get your mouth back where it’s supposed to be and I’ll answer, remember the deal,” Peter sounded completely unconcerned with Jon’s internal struggle, just vaguely amused. Jon unsure how much longer the phone would ring, decided not to test their agreement. This time he did his best to relax his mouth as much as he could, before wrapping his lips back around Peter, still an uncomfortable stretch. Doing his best to convey his intention to behave as he suckled at the head, Jon’s eyes flicked from Peter, to the phone, back to Peter. His thoughts repeating a litany of please, please answer, please, please, please.
“Better,” Peter picked up the phone and Jon could barely hear the robotic voice on the other end of the line, informing Peter where the call was coming from. Jon strained trying to hear as Peter greeted Elias, but it was just too quiet, and Jon wanted to wail. Instead he pressed forward, back to where Petre had held him before, if he got a little closer maybe he could hear. Peter’s voice cracked the tiniest bit as Jon swallowed around him, glancing down at him with an amused chuckle.
“Your Archivist is very eager, think you’ve been a bit soft in its training though.” Jon whined blushing furiously as Peter’s free hand gripped his hair again, despite trying to stay quiet to hear Elias. “Still it’s pretty good if you use a firm hand.”
He punctuated that statement with a slight yank, threatening to breach past his gag reflex and into Jon’s throat, before sliding back again. Using Jon like a toy, Jon tried to relax as much as he could, trying to ignore the obscene sounds, and the drool dripping onto his clothes. He wondered if Elias could hear, he could see, but was he loud enough for the phone to pick up his shameful moaning?
“Yes I’ve been making sure it eats, though it’s very picky,” Peter wasn’t even looking at Jon, keeping a steady rhythm, shallow enough for Jon to breathe, but not enough for him to get any words out. He should hate it, being used being talked about like he wasn’t there, he tried to tell himself he did. Lying to himself had always worked before.
“Don’t worry I’m not going to break it,” Peter chuckled at whatever Elias said and Jon wanted to scream. Let him talk to him, that was the deal, Jon would let Peter use him and Jon could talk to Elias. Peter looked down at him thoughtfully for a moment as though contemplating something. “It doesn’t need to breathe right?”
Jon probably should have seen what happened next coming, anything creative Peter came up with was not going to be fun for him. But he was so focused on trying to hear Elias he hadn’t braced himself. So he was not ready as he was yanked forward again, deeper than before, than he had ever managed, than he would ever want. Peter’s cock pressed past the last barrier to settle in his throat, and even Peter had to moan at that. Instinctively Jon panicked, he couldn’t breathe, and Peter’s grip was like iron holding him so his nose was pressed against the thick hair of his crotch. Thrashing did nothing, he was so much smaller than Peter. The logical part of him knew he was going to be fine, but that part wasn’t currently being heard over the part screaming he was dying.
“It didn’t like that, calm it down before it hurts itself would you?” Peter’s voice was a bit shaky, as he tried to affect his usual amused tone, clearly enjoying as Jon’s throat spasmed around him. All Jon could focus on, other than his brain telling him he was dying, was the phone, now on speaker, that Peter has set on the desk.
“Hello Jon, I see you’re being a good boy for Peter why don’t you relax?” Jon felt tears dripping down his cheeks, it had been so long since he had heard his d-Elias’s voice. It soothed something inside him, and almost on instinct he tried to do as he said, no longer thrashing about. If Elias said he’d be fine he would be, he wouldn’t hurt him, he would, he wouldn’t kill him. He felt his whole body shudder, and a blush formed on his face as he realized he had just orgasmed just from hearing Elias’s voice.
“Yes, don’t need to worry about pesky little things like breathing anymore.” Jon hummed, trying to agree, ignoring the moan it drew from Peter. He didn’t matter, he might as well not even be here to Jon, except for his cock still in his throat. The image of himself from earlier was back, he looked even more wrecked now, his eyes red from tears, and his mouth stretched obscenely around Peter. He could even see the impression of his dick in his throat, pressing it outwards. His pants were soaked, a wet spot forming on the front, an obvious tell that he was dripping wet. He shuddered both reveling and ashamed by the fact that Elias could see how much of a slut he was.
“Unfortunately I do have to be going soon, can’t be on the phone all day,” Jon tried to shake his head, but Peter now gripped his hair with both hands, immobilizing him completely. He tried to make eye contact with Peter, beg him without words, please let him talk to him, please, please.
“Make me cum, and I’ll let you talk,” Peter gave a lazy thrust, not even pulling out of his throat as Jon gagged around him. Jon whimpered, that hadn’t been the deal, but he knew Peter wasn’t going to care about that argument. Instead Jon tried, swallowing around Peter as best he could, ignoring the drool forced out as he slowly drew back, just a little bit as Peter let him, before sliding back down. The sounds were obscene, Jon wanted to die, wanted to end this, he was so close, he didn’t this, but it was the only way.
It didn’t take long, especially once Peter took control, sliding his mouth up and down his length while ignoring any damage he was doing. It was fine Jon would heal, he hummed and gagged and swallowed, anything to push Peter over the edge. The phone was silent other than breathing, but the feeling of being watched was stronger than ever, pressing down on Jon like a warm blanket, that could turn smothering at any time.
Peter was almost silent as he came, flooding Jon throat as he pulled back, sending the last few spurts onto Jon’s face. Jon tried to sallow but it was too much, as his abused throat contracted sending semen dripping out of his moth onto his already drool covered clothes. It didn’t matter, Jon gasped for air as he threw himself at the phone pulling it close, coughing trying to clear his lungs enough to speak.
“Good boy,” Elias sounded so proud and Jon preened, joy at finally, finally being able to talk to Eli-to his dad after so long, rushed through him. Only to drain away as he finally went to speak, only to be met with the dial tone as the phone disconnected. It was like someone had punched him in the stomach, as he curled up on the floor. He ignored Peter who simply tucked himself away before leaving Jon alone on the floor. Jon wailed, tears dripping down his cheeks, he was filthy covered in come and drool, his cunt still soaked from earlier. He had completely debased himself, and for what? To hear Elias on the phone for a few seconds?
Something hard and plastic poked into his back as he cried. Rolling over hr saw a tape recorder, sitting innocently, recording his shame. He pressed the button to stop the recording, before slowly pressing rewind. He just needed to hear his voice, it was all he had, curled up in the head office clutching a tape recorder Jon wept.
Me editing my posts into fics for AO3:
Wow autocorrect you didn’t have to do me so dirty?
