spreading your legs for master (scream the holy spirit's name) (cricky)

fuck and pray

this is straight up filth.

//

Ricky kneeled on the floor between Chris's spread legs, wrists stinging and the muscles in his arms burning from where his hands were tied behind his back, knotted together by rope. An o-ring collar is around his neck, Chris was holding the metal chain in his glove clad hands. The floor was cold and hard under his knees, Ricky knowing he would have bruises tomorrow. He hadn't even been fucked yet and he already felt wrecked.

His master had given specifications for his appearance and outfit tonight, and Ricky had complied – smokey eyed make-up, his long black hair tied in messy pigtails, perfect for grabbing. His skinny legs were adorned with sheer, black stockings, black lace panties to match, his chest bare. He looked like a slut, and he wanted to be treated like one.

Chris, on the other hand, was fully clothed in a neatly pressed suit that screamed money. He had make-up on too, dark eyes making him look all the more dangerous as he gazed down at Ricky. His demeaner is cool, disinterested, the only thing giving away his excitement being the erection pressing against his trousers.

Ricky feels himself being yanked forward by the chain attached to his collar. He lets out a choked gasp at the action, and his face presses against his master's bulge. He noses at the material, mouths at Chris's cock, desperate for a taste.

"Slut," the man above him mutters. "Fucking desperate for my dick, aren't you?"

Ricky nods, looking up with big blue eyes.

"Yes, master."

Chris chuckles darkly, amusement tinging his features. He uses one hand to undo the button of his trousers, unzipping them, then reaching inside his boxers to pull out his cock. It springs out, hitting Ricky in the face and he flinches, gasping.

Chris laughs quietly again, and he grabs the base of his cock. Ricky's mouth waters and he drops his mouth open, eager to have the thick length stuffed in his throat. He sticks his tongue out, leaning in for a taste, but Chris grabs him harshly by the chin.

"Don't be greedy, slut," he warns. "Be patient."

Ricky whines but complies, and he stays with his mouth open and tongue out as Chris teases him with his cock. He slaps him across the face with it, once, and drags the tip along his lips and tongue, leaving trails of precum.

Ricky keeps making desperate, small noises in his throat, and Chris eventually relents his teasing, letting go of his grip on Ricky's jaw.

"Suck my cock."

Ricky immediately complies, wrapping his mouth around the tip of his master's dick, eyes closing as he moans in ecstasy. Chris lets go of the chain in his hand to hold onto Ricky's pigtails, pulling so that Ricky's mouth slides further down his cock.

Ricky gags and splutters as his master's cock is big and his mouth his small, but he knows that Chris likes that, dick twitching from where it's in Ricky's throat, pre-cum leaking out the tip.

His master has no mercy as he gets rougher, using his grip on Ricky's hair to fuck his mouth relentlessly. Ricky can feel the tears leave his eyes and fall down his cheeks, smearing his makeup, and globs of spit coat Chris's cock as he chokes on it.

"God, you're such a good little cock sucker, baby," Chris grunts, panting. "You look so pretty for your master."

Ricky wants to nod and respond, but all he can do is let out a pathetic noise that's somewhere close to a whine and a sob.

Chris pulls his cock out of Ricky's mouth with an obscene, wet, 'pop' noise, Chris's cock and Ricky's lips and chin covered in a mess of spit and pre-cum.