A/N: I wrote this little, dirty one-shot for the lovely tuesdaymidnight who sent out a call for a story with a picture (see link below, remove spaces and add in actual dots) and originally posted it in my Shorts, Drabs and Outs. Now I am turning more of her picture suggestions into scenes for these boys.

Warnings: This is slash, my first shot at BDSM and is nothing but PWP. Thanks to theladyingrey42 for the quick look through. Any mistakes are mine, but Twilight is not.

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I walk into our apartment after another grueling practice to find nothing but stillness and dark, the curtains pulled across the windows and only slivers of the evening light escaping around the thick cloth.

A single square of paper on the immaculate counter grabs my attention immediately, and my cock lengthens in my shorts as I read the few brief words in his fine, neat script.

My boy,

Bedroom floor. Naked ass only.

My breathing picks up as I drop my gym bag at my feet and walk calmly but as quickly as I can toward our bedroom. Before I cross the threshold, I drop my shorts and jockstrap, leaving my socks, shoes and jersey shirt in place. Upon entering our space, I notice the drapes are also drawn in here, darkness cloaking the room except for a thin shaft of light slicing across the floor. I can smell him in the air as if he has just vacated the room, and my pulse races as I try to calm my thoughts, my hopes of what he has planned.

I know that my lover, my Jasper will take care of me. As my Master, he always does.

There are ropes around one leg of the small couch, and it's been moved to face the foot of the bed. There is a single black cushion removed from the loveseat, and it sits on the floor half way between the couch and the bed, the light from the window falling across it almost like a spotlight.

I know that is my place.

I cross the room to the pillow, kneel on it and wait, my hands resting on my thighs and my head bent forward with my eyes on the floor in front of me. I almost sigh as I feel him enter the room, a flare of warmth to my right as he emerges from the bathroom.

"Beautiful," he whispers as he approaches. He runs a hand through my tousled and still slightly sweaty hair, continuing his touch over my shirt and down my back. I silently curse the fabric over my skin as he speaks again. "Face down, arms up and legs spread. Cock on the cushion."

I follow his instructions without hesitation, laying prone with my hands stretched above my head, nearly reaching the rope around the couch leg. I feel small tugs on my left shoe as he loosens the laces before stretching my leg to the side, tying the laces to the bed post. He repeats the same action on my right leg before securing my hands with the rope.

"God, boy. You are so fucking beautiful for me," he whispers into the quiet.

Stretched before him, my ass in the air and my limbs restrained, I feel like I'm on display for him and I hope desperately he means what he says. I want to be beautiful for him.

Although he hasn't told me where to put my head, I place my forehead on the floor, breathing deeply through my nose and trying not to anticipate his next move. I hear a slight rustling and a click and then the rumbling, rough beats of heavy metal pulse through the room, effectively masking his sounds.

I start slightly when I feel his touch along my spine and skimming over my crack, his palm pressing against the flesh of my ass. I groan aloud when his hand travels between my legs, almost stroking, almost touching where I want him and where I know he won't go.


Over the music I can still hear small clinks and the sounds of metal as he decides what implements to use from his drawers of toys. Every time we play, this here is perhaps the height of my emotional experience. The anticipation eating into me, my eagerness to be good and the surety that he will take care of me even if I'm not. After this moment, emotion disappears as it all condenses down into sensation. His touch, his voice, his scent. That is all I will know.

But these few seconds, every feeling and thought are focused on him and the potential of tonight's experience.

And then he touches me, soft leather flowing over my back before his hand connects with my ass, a brief but powerful slap followed by a soothing touch. The strands of the flogger wrap over my hips, small stings against my skin. My world is reduced to these small points of pain that quickly fade, turning into a building ache of heat and want, my weeping erection pressed into the cushion under me.

As his hand and the flogger continue to assault my body, my mind sinks lower into sensation, all my thoughts abandoned for the thrill of pure touch, complete surrender to my lover.

"Look at you," he growls above me. "You are mine, entirely mine."

He always knows the moment I give in. I groan in response, and I hear a small snap before two fingers are pressed into me, my ass rising almost of its own accord to encourage the penetration.

"You whore," he chastises, smacking my ass once more. "Beg me for it," he orders gruffly before changing his tone and reminding me. "Nicely."

"Please, sir. Oh, please fuck me," I beg, wanting him more than anything, wanting him to find his pleasure with me.

"I don't know. Have you been a good boy?" he asks quietly, his slick fingers still moving slowly in and out, bending to hit my prostate with almost every pass.

"I hope so, sir." And I can feel the building pressure in my body, in my balls. I start reciting states and capitols, knowing I need to calm myself down, but it's been too long since we've done this, since we've had time to play.

"I can almost hear the thoughts racing through your mind, Edward. Let it go for now." He runs his other hand under my shirt and over my spine as he begins scissoring his fingers. "Let me take care of you."

"Yes, sir," I repeat, feeling the emotion gripping my throat.

"That's right, boy. Just let go," he repeats.

His fingers disappear for a moment before I feel a dildo slide into me, my overworked nerves almost exploding as he slowly penetrates me with the toy. I rock back against him as much as my bindings will allow and a low whimper escapes my throat.

"Oh, you want this, do you my little slut?" he chuckles.

I shake my head while still pushing back with my ass.

"No? You could have fooled me," he replies, pushing the dildo harder, beginning to thrust it into me, twisting it to find the spot that will make me come in seconds.

"I want you," I manage to pant out, still shaking my head as he pushes me further, past the point of no return.

"Not yet, my sweet boy." I feel his breath on my skin for a moment. "Come for me," he orders, sinking his teeth into my burning and red ass.

And without a second of hesitation, I do. Like his good boy, I do. Screaming and panting and squirming, my body tenses as I thrust into the cushion below me, my belly becoming soaked and sticky. The dildo is removed quickly and I yearn for something more, something harder and thicker to fill me. My left shoe is suddenly removed and then his hands are at my wrists, loosening the ropes as he gently rubs the reddened skin. I am still completely slack and almost incoherent as he lifts me to my knees, raising my back to his chest and kneeling behind me between my legs before ripping my shirt off over my head.

And then we are together skin to skin, heat to heat. I feel his lips for a brief moment on the back of my neck and then his thick length, hot and wanting, pressed between us.

"Now," he whispers into my nape before tilting his hips and slamming into me in one swift stroke. The force almost topples me, but he holds me in his strong arms, wrapping one around my chest as the other finds my hip.

"Fuck... What you do to me." His words are just breath against my skin, and he sets a slow rhythm, pushing into me over and over. In spite of my recent release, I can feel myself hardening once more as he fucks me at a relentlessly even pace.

"Please, sir. Please," I continue to beg, feeling my erection straining at my hips once again.

"Please what, boy?" his deep voice caresses my ear.

"Harder, sir," I offer and then quickly add, "If it pleases you, sir."

"Tonight you are pleasing me greatly, boy." He shifts his weight back and I lean on his chest, my head lolling onto his shoulder as I let him do what he wants with my body. He bites my neck hard, and I moan as he sucks and licks the tender skin. "Greatly," he repeats, gripping my hips and increasing his thrusts, his hips slapping against the still heated skin of my ass, adding another layer to the already intense sensations.

Impossibly, I feel another orgasm already building in me, and I struggle to sit up slightly, changing the angle and allowing him greater access and depth to piston into me.

"That's it, boy. Take it, take all of me," he pants, his voice gravelly and low.

Always, I want to tell him. I will always take whatever he will give me.

"Fuck, you're going to make me come, boy." With that statement, I try to narrow my focus, feeling only his skin against mine and his sex pounding into me, knowing that he'll want me to come first. "Come, boy. And let me hear you," he orders.

With his permission granted, I allow the tingling feeling I've been trying to keep at bay explode until my whole body is consumed with the rush of my orgasm. My balls tighten against my body and, as my cock releases onto the cushion once again, I convulse against his strong chest and scream into the dark.

While I allow my body and my voice freedom, I feel him tense behind me, his thrusts erratic and his groan long and loud in my ear. We both collapse forward and I relish his weight on me, the comfort of his heated skin against mine as his breaths are hot and quick against my shoulder. After a few minutes, his now softening cock slips from me, and he places a quick kiss on my neck before he lifts himself off of me. I hiss as the colder air of the room hits the tender skin of my ass and legs and he chuckles quietly.

"Just a moment, boy. Lay still just a moment."

With another small click, the room falls into silence, and I can hear his movements in the bathroom and the water running. Soon, he returns to me, soft caresses of warm cloth and his hands over my back, ass and legs before he releases my remaining restraint, flipping me over gently and cleaning my front as well.

"Come to the bed," he says softly and offers me his hand. I smile as I slip my fingers against his, and he pulls me to my feet. With a firm grip around my waist, he leads me to our bed, laying me down across the duvet. "Flip," he orders but then rapidly adds, "please."

And with that one addition, I know we have finished our play as Master and boy and we are back to Jasper and Edward, lovers and partners. I smile again as I turn onto my stomach, hearing the jar of salve open before I feel those strong hands massaging away my aches. The last of the stress from the week leaves just as quickly.

"How did you know this was exactly what I needed?" I ask, basking in the warmth of his touch.

He laughs a little as I sigh in pleasure. "Lucky guess?" he teases and, as always, I am astonished at how easily we can shift between our roles.

"Mmmm," I hum as he kisses my cheek, and I turn quickly, capturing his lips with mine. He kisses me deeply as I turn under him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him to me as his tongue strokes into my mouth. Eventually, our kisses slow and he pulls back. "Now everything is perfect," I say as I brush the fall of his hair from his eyes.

He turns his cheek into my palm, his eyes closing. "Yes," he says as he slides down and wraps his arms around me, placing his head on my chest. "Perfect."