Chapter Sixteen: Oscar

M y heart is racing.

Ryan's asking —no, begging — for me to choke him and I am so torn right now.

On one hand, I'll give my Boy anything he needs. On the other, choking is always dangerous, especially if you haven't studied the anatomy of a person's neck and head. I've rarely indulged in any kind of asphyxiation play — not because I haven't studied and practiced the safest ways to do it, but because it takes a level of trust between partners which I've never really had.

Until now.

"I need it rough, Daddy," he adds, almost sounding plaintive now. Then he goes in for the kill, placing his hand on my thigh and confessing, "I trust you."

Fuck me.

"I've got you, darlin'," I practically coo, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and squeezing to let him know that I'm on board. "But we're setting some ground rules first."

"That's fair," he acknowledges with a nod.

"Good. So, I need to know your actual limits. I know you say you need it rough, but what do you consider rough? A hand to your neck? Mild squeezing? Cutting off your air supply?"

"Squeezing," he answers. "Cutting off my air, but…not for long."

"Okay. You'll need to give me a cue on when to stop." I consider the few items I brought with me in my overnight bag. "I've brought a bell with me. I'll get you to hold it through the scene. Shake it when you need me to ease up on squeezing, drop it if you need to safe-word. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good boy."

"I'd also like your hand to guide me, at least this first time. So, the hand that isn't holding the bell is going to sit over the top of mine and direct my movements, all right? If you forget to shake the bell, you can pull back on my wrist to get me to ease up."

He takes a moment to consider this and then nods. "Yeah, that…that makes sense, actually."

I'm glad to hear it. After running through the rules again, and explaining that I will be stopping to check in with him as we go, we get ourselves ready for the scene.

I enjoy watching him strip for me, instructing him to do it slowly and to carefully fold his clothes and set them aside neatly. This not only draws out his anticipation, but also settles him back into a more submissive frame of mind. By the time he's lying back on the mattress, naked and spread out for me, I've also taken off my clothes and dropped them onto the couch. I've got the bell I told him about ready and waiting, and a small bottle of lube on the nightstand.

"What's your colour right now, honey?" I ask as I crawl over him, watching him for any signs of hesitation.

"Green," his answer is confident. "I need this, Daddy. I trust you."

"Okay," I hand over the bell. "Give that a shake for me. Make sure it works."

Ryan complies, and the tinkling sound is perfectly loud enough for us to hear, even with his fist closed around the bell. Nevertheless, I remind him again that he can also pull my wrist away from his throat if he needs me to loosen up, or he can drop the bell to safe-word.

"Yes, Daddy," he agrees dutifully and it's all I can do not to kiss him.

He's too perfect.

"Good boy."

I reach for the lube and coat my fingers, and Ryan spreads his legs for me without needing to be asked. However, when I rub his rim, he arches his back and says, "Don't…don't prep me. I want your cock to open me up."

"You sure?" I mightn't be the biggest guy around, but it'll still hurt.

" Please ."

I can't deny him anything.

Slicking up my cock, I slowly push inside him, groaning at how tight he is. I'm almost afraid that he's too tight and too tense, but after a moment, he relaxes a fraction and it's enough for me to continue.

He's panting against the intrusion, his eyes clenched shut and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Once I'm all the way in, I check in.

"Colour?"

"G-green. Fuck, you feel huge. But d-definitely — nnngh — green. Now move." He hisses in a breath. "Please."

I rock back and forth in short, almost agonizingly slow moments. He's gripping my cock like a silken vise, and if I'm not careful I'm going to come before we've even started.

Eventually, we hit a steady rhythm, and his whines move from pained to pleasured.

Distracting myself from my impending orgasm, I brace my body over his on my left arm and reach for his throat with my right, resting my hand gently around it. Just touching, not even holding on. His eyes fly open and lock with mine, and I note that the grey tint in them is more pronounced and stormier than usual, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"Colour?" I ask softly.

"Green, Daddy," he whispers back. "Do it. Choke me."

"Hand over mine, honey. That's it," I add as he does as he's told. "Good boy."

Still staring into my eyes, he starts to squeeze my hand with his, guiding me to apply pressure to the sides of his throat. It's still not enough to impede his breathing or blood flow, but his eyes seem to get darker with desire anyway.

"Colour?"

"Green."

He squeezes my hand more firmly, and I tighten my hold on his neck. This time, his breathing hitches into a raspy little gasp, and his eyes flutter shut. Still rolling my hips, I keep my hold for a couple of extended seconds before easing up, and he whines.

"More," Ryan urges, " harder ."

"The fucking or the choking?"

"Both!" He arches his back, "Please, Daddy?" He tries to clamp down around my hand, and I shake my head.

" Tsk-tsk ," I chide, teasing him with the slow drag of my cock in and out of him, "we're takin' this slowly, darlin'."

He huffs but doesn't argue. He's too submissive and nowhere near bratty enough to literally force my hand. Instead, he whines again. "Please?"

Damn it, but I'm gonna fall for that pretty pleading every single time.

I thrust into him with more intensity, delighting in the much louder gasp the action forces out of him. Then I squeeze the sides of his neck again, careful not to put any pressure on his trachea, applying a bit more force than last time as I thrust back into him again and again. I manage three quick, hard slams of my hips before I release my hold again.

"Colour?" I pant.

"Green. So… oh, fuck …so much green." His voice has taken on a bit of a rasp, and the sound of it travels from my ears and to my cock.

I choke him some more, loving the feeling of his hand applying tight pressure over the top of my own, and the incredibly tight grip his clenching ass has on my dick. Ryan's face is flushing from the restricted air and blood flow, and potentially also from his arousal. Easing up my hold again, his eyes roll back with pleasure and he moans.

Bingo.

We've found the sweet spot for him, where the dopamine and serotonin have begun to do their thing.

" More ," he encourages.

I squeeze the sides of his throat with a similar amount of pressure as before, slamming my cock inside him once, twice, three times. After checking in once more, we do it all over again. And again. And again.

He's starting to make sharp, gasping sounds as I fuck him, unable to take in enough breath to properly let them out. It's hot as fuck, as is the purplish tint to his face. He's sweaty and crying and thoroughly wrecked, and when I release my latest hold from around his throat, he arches off the mattress with a choked cry. I'm barely cognizant of the fact that he's coming all over my abs and his own belly because I'm coming, too, my cock unable to take the even tighter clenching of his ass as his body tenses during orgasm.

His hand slips from mine, his entire body lax beneath me. Ryan's eyes are glazed over in the familiar way which suggests he's hit subspace. I withdraw from him carefully and spread out beside him, cuddling him to me, heedless of the mess of cum and sweat between us.

Pressing soft, gentle kisses to the top of his head, I splay my hand over his chest and focus on the thumping of his racing heart as it begins to gradually slow down. Eventually, just when I think he's slipped from subspace into sleep, he stirs and sniffles against the remnants of his emotional release. The bell tinkles as it drops against the mattress, unnecessary and forgotten.

"Hey darlin'," I murmur, gently kissing his sweaty hair again, "welcome back. How are you feelin'?"

He snuggles against me and hums. It's a contented sound. "So much better. I needed that." He pauses, then quietly adds, "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure and privilege, honey," I reply seriously. "Thank you for your trust." Before the moment can get too emotional, I ask, "Was that all good for you? Highlights? Things you'd change?"

I cringe as the awkwardly phrased questions tumble out of me, taking me all the way back to my days in training to be a Dom. But what we just did was huge and I'm a little shaken by how emotional I feel after our session.

"It was perfect," Ryan answers easily, tilting his head back so we can look at each other. "Highlights were obviously when the dizziness and pleasure kicked in, but I needed the pain, and I knew you had control of the situation. There wasn't any panic or fear. But next time…" He trails off and nibbles at his abused lower lip.

"Next time?"

"You can go harder. I trust you. I" —he takes a deep breath— "I love you, Oscar."

And, just like that, the shakiness of my emotional state lifts, leaving me with absolute certainty. "I love you, too, Ryan."