Page 37 of Culture and Curiosities
“Daddy…” He continued to enjoy his interesting behavior, flopping on the bed and trying to glare at me. “I want to play with you.”
“Then be my good boy.” My Wren could clearly articulate his needs, so I understood the game. “I can’t wait to see how excited you get when I let you come.”
When I let him come—because as his Daddy and the dominant partner in sexual games and nonsexual little headspace, it was up to me to handle that function.
“I really want to come with you, Daddy.” His emotional drama was still strong, but the way his hand reached over to play with his cock gave conflicting signals. “Please?”
Stretching out over him, I pushed my pants down to the end of the bed before moving his hand. “No, naughty boy. Who decides when you can play?”
Me.
That was…amazing.
His reaction was fun as well. His muscles clenched and his hand tightened around his length before he slowly released it. “You, Daddy.”
The admission made him shiver and I could feel his need rising through the bond with every display of control over his body.
“And what do you have to do in order to be able to play with your cock?” The English language had so many terms for one part of the body. “Let me hear the words, my sweet boy.”
Wren let out so many wonderful sounds, but my favorite was the low whine that indicated desiring something without wanting to confess it. “I have to be a good boy for my spanking, Daddy.”
“That’s right.” Giving him one light kiss, I sat up and shifted to the middle of the bed near the headboard. Patting my lap, I ignored his dramatic sounds and projected confidence. “Come here, my mate.”
Grumbling softly, Wren’s pout returned. “Smart Daddies are frustrating. What was I thinking?”
Not with what he was calling hisbig head.
But with his erection still standing proud and begging for attention, I continued to ignore his drama as he stretched himself out over my lap. “Good boy.”
Beautiful boy.
Sexy boy.
Incredible mate.
Doing my best to push those emotions through the bond, I let him feel how wonderful he was as I ran my hand over his bottom. The number of words he knew for that one part of the body was staggering, but picking my favorite seemed like the best course of action.
“Who does this pretty bottom belong to, my mate?” Squeezing one cheek, I made the human thinking sound to prompt him to go from hiding against the bed to communicating. “Hmm?”
That would never feel normal, but I knew I imitated it correctly when he lifted his head. “You, Daddy. My bottom belongs to you.”
“That’s right. Good boy.” Rewarding him with a spanking for the accurate response seemed…confusing…but his thoughts were very clear on how he felt about the idea of pain applied to his bottom.
Excited.
Even without having the rest of our conversations, just the desire and excitement running through him would’ve been enough for me to understand his needs.
So I spanked him.
Amazing.
Carefully measuring the impact, I gave each cheek one spank and waited to let his emotions come through the bond.
Pain.
Desire.
Heat.
