Puck/Kurt, established D/s relationship, spanking, sex toys, humiliation, training. Beta by lil_miss_choc.
It had developed over time. They had always enjoyed sexual role-play in their relationship and maybe it was just that somewhere along the line of their relationship, the lines between role-play and reality started to blur. Neither of them complained.
Some rules were set immediately and some were developed after time. It was made clear early on that Kurt wouldn't orgasm unless Puck gave him permission. That was the basis upon most of their following relationship rested. Kurt's desire. At first, Puck had been fascinated with what he would do for a chance to orgasm. Then he started to make demands because something inside him burned intensely, a sense of power stronger than anything else, when he realized how much it turned him on to have a boy of his own who would do anything for you.
Not to mention it was convenient. Puck didn't remember ever actually having cleaned their apartment. Kurt took care of the cleaning, cooking, laundry, and everything else that might be needed, first because his schedule as a college student was much more flexible than Puck's nine-to-five job, then more and more because Puck started asking him and eventually because he was ordered and expected to do it.
It was messed up. Yet, Puck couldn't deny that deep satisfaction of ownership that he felt in his gut when he watched his boy perform even the most mundane task at home just because Puck had told him to (often with its own twist to it. Puck liked to keep him naked, or wearing panties, because Kurt hated wearing panties no matter how good Puck thought he looked in them). And if Kurt got off on that humiliation, well, it was a definite perk.
All in all, it was a good deal.
Kurt was sitting on the floor, resting lazily against Puck's knees as the other man was leaned back on the couch, watching some baseball game or another. Kurt wasn't allowed to use furniture without permission and though permission was usually given, Puck had for some reason denied it today.
Puck's hand was stroking through his hair and in the semi-comfortable position, with nothing else to engage him (baseball bored him to tears), Kurt was almost drifting off. He was tugged back into awareness with a sudden one-word command.
"Undress." Puck wasn't even looking away from the TV. Kurt frowned slightly at not getting any attention at all, but his body betrayed him, his cock already twitching. He obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt and squirming out of his skinny jeans as elegantly as possible while remaining on the floor. He folded them neatly and placed them on the couch before looking expectantly up at Puck again.
Puck still had his eyes on the TV; Kurt had to wait a few minutes before another order came.
"Fetch your humbler." Kurt made a move to stand, but was immediately stopped. "On your hands and knees."
Kurt flushed, but crept into the bedroom to fetch the contraption. Once he was back in the living room, Puck took it from him and fastened it around Kurt's balls. It stretched them back and then the humbler was secured behind his thighs.
Kurt, unable to help himself, wiggled uncomfortably. He both loved and hated this device. There was really no comfortable position one could take while wearing it. Standing was impossible; he had tried it when Puck had first given it to him, back when Kurt wasn't really all too fond of the idea of spending time on the floor. Lying on the side worked, but would quickly become uncomfortable. The best position was bending over, kneeling, so this was the position he took now, staring into the carpet and hoping that Puck had something more planned, rather than lazy amusement and a need to keep Kurt occupied. The pulling on his balls made it difficult for Kurt to get hard, but his body was still tingling in pleasant arousal.
When nothing happened and he dared to glance up, he saw that Puck's attention was once again back on the TV.
Puck's eyes darted over to meet his. "Whining will only prolong this," he said. "Keep your eyes on the floor until I say otherwise."
So this was training. Kurt looked back onto the floor, biting down on his lip.
He had always been demanding to a fault, he knew that. He blamed it on being an only child and perhapshe had been slightlyspoiled by his dad, but if there was one thing Kurt couldn't bear, it was being ignored. He and Puck had gotten into a few arguments recently and Kurt had been punished time and time again for acting out in small ways just to get Puck's attention when Puck was otherwise occupied. Puck had quickly come to realize that most of his usual punishments were worthless for this problem, since punishing Kurt would essentially give him the attention he wanted. Instead they had started working on Kurt's constant need for attention and appreciation, in a roundabout way.
The minutes passed slowly. Kurt kept his eyes closed, his forehead resting against the carpet and his ass raised slightly in the position that put the least strain on his balls. He felt very small. He listened to the sounds from the TV, mainly boring sports comments. Puck got up twice, once to use the bathroom, once to fetch a beer.
It felt like ages, but it had probably only been about forty minutes, when Kurt felt a warm hand rest on his back. He let out a weary breath that was almost a half-sob.
It was humiliating, and he hated crying; he had spent years working on how to keep up the perfect facade against the bullies in school, but Puck encouraged him to let down his defenses around him. He said he didn't want lies, and that it was good for Kurt to let go.
Kurt felt Puck work on the humbler, removing it. He hesitantly stayed in position, though, until he heard Puck pat a hand on the couch beside him. "Get up here."
Rather gracelessly, Kurt crawled onto the couch, and he was immediately pulled into an embrace that had him resting against Puck's chest as the other man whispered reassuringly into his hair, "You did good."
Kurt took a few long breaths and enjoyed a few moments of resting comfortably against Puck, the man's clothes feeling rough against his own naked body. Then, Puck pulled him away, his eyebrow raised in that typical flirty cocky way.
"Over my knees," he ordered.
Kurt felt himself brighten. His cock, which had grown completely soft, once again twitched as he hurriedly positioned himself.
The first spank came unpredictably fast and made him jump, and Puck laugh at his reaction, then another one immediately after. Puck rubbed his buttocks after that, before settling into a more easygoing rhythm. The stinging slaps washed away his unease from those long minutes spent on the floor. This was what Kurt loved. The pain making everything feel soreal, the feelings of mixed humiliation and oddly, relief.
Once, a long time ago, it had surprised him how much he loved being spanked. It had probably surprised Puck as well, but there was a delicious feeling to let himself go so completely that he couldn't resist. It was impossible to hold on to any sort of modesty while lying naked over someone's lap with your ass growing redder with every hard slap. He even loved the memory of the few real punishment spankings he had received and those had definitely been all about the pain and nothing about pleasure, not stopping until he had unraveled into this pathetic, crying mess that had both shocked and mortified him.
This was a light maintenance spanking, however. The slaps stung, but his arousal rubbed against Puck's jeans pleasantly.
"You're a good boy," Puck was saying between the spanks. "You know I'm only doing what is good for you, right? You need to learn, and I know you're working hard to do it, too. Yes, you're such a good boy." The last part was almost cooing, like one would perhaps talk to a dog, Puck's voice amused and Kurt felt his face burn, glad he was lying face-down so he could hide his face into the couch.
Puck paused to pull his buttocks apart and Kurt waited hopefully for, well, anything, trying not to squirm because Puck hadn't given him permission to stimulate himself, but it almost seemed like Puck was only inspecting him. A few moments later, he was gently pushed off Puck's lap onto the floor.
"Fetch the small plug and the new bottle of lube."
Kurt didn't try to stand this time, he crawled into the bedroom without further orders, feeling Puck's gaze on him.
He came back with the small plug, which wasn't very wide at all but quite long. The 'new lube' was a bottle he hadn't seen before, but had been in the usual drawer. Puck patted his knee again, and Kurt positioned himself like before.
Kurt heard Puck open the lube and he waited expectantly for what was to come. When it finally did, he jumped slightly. The butt plug was tapped against his opening, teasing, before Puck began to press lightly. It started to slip in easily, but it was oddly cold.
"It is cooling lube," Puck explained. "I saw it online and thought it seemed interesting. Like it?"
Kurt shuddered and nodded. It was an odd mix of sensations; his burning ass cheeks, the cold plug pressing further inside him but it wasn't wide enough to fill him, not nearly, so it only teased him. The coldness made the sensation even more frustrating and he was barely aware of how he was rubbing his cock against Puck's lap until he dimly realized that Puck was getting hard, too.
All too quickly the plug was in place. The cold lingered, an intense feeling that made it difficult to think. Kurt found himself once again pushed off Puck's lap, but this time he got to remain on the couch. He let out a low whine as his cock lost its source of friction.
"The movie is starting," Puck said. Kurt frowned in confusion until he remembered. They had been talking about it during dinner, how Puck's baseball game had been on that evening, then a Liza Minnelli movie that Kurt had wanted to see, and Puck had said okay (because even if Puck was the one who called the shots, he rarely said no when Kurt reallyused his perfected kicked-puppy look).
The movie, however, didn't feel anywhere near as tempting when Kurt's cock was straining and a butt plug was teasing his insides. He stared in disbelief as Puck merely settled back, his attention once again on the TV.
"You're going to watch it?"
"Why not?" Puck raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'll let you blow me in the break."
Well, okay, so that was somewhat better. Still. Kurt squirmed. The plug shifted inside him and the sensation was going straight to his cock so teasingly that Kurt almost wanted to cry because he had still not been told that he could touch himself and this didn't seem like the time when he could beg for it.
"Oh," Puck said, his voice taking on a mocking 'by the way' tone, glancing back at Kurt again. "No touching yourself. You're not coming tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning, if you're good tonight."
Kurt wanted to say that he had already been good enough, damn it, but he knew that it would probably only result in an even longer denial. That didn't stop him from pursing his lips disapprovingly, though, even when Puck pulled him close as the opening credits for New York, New Yorkstarted to play.
Maybe, Kurt thought as he squirmed on the plug, his cock rock hard and Puck's hand coming down every now and then just to tease him, if he gave Puck a good enough blow job, he would forget about the not-until-tomorrow rule.