Page 8 of Pucking Stepbrother

“Is that all you got? I can stay here all night, baby.” I smile through the pain.

Retrieving the puck, he saunters back to me, never missing his foot holds on the ice. You can tell when a player has grown up in the rink and I know for a fact this privileged fucktard would have had the best of everything growing up. The most expensive gear and the best coaches, but one thing he doesn’t have is the mongrel to be the best and the brutality to win no matter what.

Leaning down, he grips my jaw in his large hand and squeezes hard until my mouth drops open, shoving the puck in as far as he can. “No more talking.”

He circles me once, twice, three times before he swipes hard into my ankle. The sheer pain explodes up my leg and I groan out in agony, biting down onto the puck.

“I’m supposed to carry out this hazing, but I think it’s a little too boring and not enough pain for the likes of you.” He slaps the side of my face, the noise echoing through the silence, causing the puck to fall from my lips.

“Do you have a vagina with how girly that slap was? My cock would do more damage.” I spit at him, anger combined with desire snaking through my veins.

Stepping forward so he’s right in my face, he drops the hockey stick and glares down at me. “Is that so, big boy?” He begins to unbutton his pants, pulling out his hard dick and fisting it in front of my face. “You’ll never have this, you fucking faggot,” he says coldly as his hand pumps faster. His dark gaze settles on mine, sparking a fire behind his blue eyes.

I can see his restraint slowly slipping as precum beads on the head of his dick. With his eyes closed and being lost in the feeling of stroking himself, I move forward and let my tongue come in contact with the tip of his cock, licking the precum off.

“Fuck,” a strangled groan escapes his lips, and he jumps back, startled and dazed. His eyes bulge as he glares down at me in disgust, but behind the anger in his hooded eyes, I can see tendrils of raw need and twisted desire as the war inside him rages.

“I know you fucking loved it.” A wicked smile dances across my smug face as I lick my lips clean and stare up at him, daring him to deny it.

Lunging forward he grips my hair and yanks me forward so the ties binding my wrists together pull and dig into my flesh. “Open your fucking mouth, big boy,” he growls, moving my face so I have to stare up at him before he presses the tip of his cock to my lips.

My eyes widen at his sudden ferocity, and it makes my dick twitch against my pants. I open my mouth slightly not expecting what comes next. Asher slams his dick into my mouth hitting the back of my throat. His fingers digging into my hair, making it pull at my scalp.

Hissed moans vibrate through his lips, and I gaze up to see every guy’s wet dream standing before me. The hot as fuck icehockey player about to come undone from my mouth. Thrusting into my mouth in rough strokes, his movements are almost violent as his cock thickens with each stroke.

Wrapping my lips around his length, I let him assault my mouth as images of letting me do this to him willingly circle in my brain. I swallow his precum mixed with my saliva knowing he’ll like the constriction of my throat around the head of his dick. My hard cock throbs and presses against my pants needing release. He tastes so fucking good and like my pending conquest. Moaning as his thrusts start to quicken, knowing he’s close and about to hate me even more after this, I make sure I look up at him as he holds me still.

“Fuck…” He curses with his head thrown back in ecstasy as he slows his movements slightly.

My eyes lock on his as he looks back down at me, his hand still fisting my hair, and his legs beginning to shake. I slurp and moan as much as his thick cock allows me, allowing him to test my mouth, an unfamiliar feeling for him, I’m sure. I feel his body tremble as he picks up his pace again in long hard strokes.

The pain from his tight grip on my hair prickles my scalp and sends salacious desires straight to my rock-hard dick as I rock my hips in search of some release. My stomach muscles tighten as he thrusts between my lips making my cock throb in my pants and precum to ooze out and wet my boxers.

“Holy fuck,” Asher groans like a wild beast as I milk his release. He shoots streams of hot cum into the back of my throat, the salty taste coating my tongue.

He steps back away from me and bends over gasping for air, his semi hard dick bobbing in the icy air covered in my saliva.

Watching him, I lean back in the chair, waiting for him to come to his senses and unleash hell on me for making him succumb to his darkest desires. The grin that tugs the corner of my mouth is predatory when he finally looks at me again.

His breaths even out before he shoves his cock back into his boxers, his fingers trembling as he zips up his pants. White hot rage burns in his eyes as our gazes fight each other. Cocking an eyebrow and smirking at him when he steps toward me, careful not to touch me again.

“You breathe a word of this to anyone, and you’re fucking dead. I’ll have your ass in juvie before you can blink. There’s no one to save you here, trailer trash,” he growls at me. I love seeing the hatred and wonder in his stare.

Before I can try to flinch out of the way, his clenched fist collides with the side of my face sending a white flash of light across my vision. My head flings sideways, nearly tipping over the chair. An instant high-pitched noise rings in my ear, and the splitting pain rocks through my head as Asher storms away across the ice.

“Come and get it anytime!” I shout after him in a fog of neediness as he escapes and leaves me on my own, still restrained to the chair with a raging hard-on.

Chapter Five

Nate

Darkness envelopes me as I sit alone in the center of the ice rink, still tied to this fucking chair, and waiting for someone to come untie me. It’s been hours and I’m freezing my balls off, the cold air numbing my hands and feet. I’ll probably be here until the morning when the first practice begins.

“Fuck!” I scream at the top of my lungs and try to pull my hands free from the restraints, but it’s useless, they’re tied too tight.

After what feels like fucking hours, the overhead lights flick on, making me squint from the sudden assault. My shoulders ache from their position and my hands are freezing.

The janitor appears behind the safety glass and glares at me before he makes his way down the ramp toward me. “Jesus Christ, you kids and your fucking pranks,” he grumbles.

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