Then why did you act like it? Honestly, Victor, do you ever have a single thought running through that empty head of yours?
[He huffs, smacking the back of Victor's head before he pulls away. He stalks over to the closet (which he's overtaken from Dinah), pulling out a thick, heavy belt.]
I know you're going to like this. I'm not an idiot. [He smacks the folded-up belt against his palm.] But I want you bleeding. Want everyone to know you're spoken for when they pull down your ugly fucking pants.
The thought was wanting to be even and makin' you do this. I like it when you're jealous.
[That's not hard to understand right? I mean to someone as smart as Roman it probably isn't. That's what Victor was thinking. Seems like it worked out pretty well, especially when he catches sight of the belt.
I'm not jealous. [He says it even though both he and Victor know that's total bullshit.] I just don't like people touching my things.
[He cracks the belt down hard across Victor's ass.]
And you're my things. My fucking property. [Another hit, harder than the first.] You're not a Dominant. Not a top. [Another.] You're a little fuckhole who needs to be put in his place. [Another.] Should cut a line down your throat myself, show them all who the real Submissive is.
[My things. My property. Cutting a line down his throat, every fucking word that comes out of Roman's mouth hits him as hard as the belt. The sound he makes, wanton and obscene with how low his moans go.
Digging his fingers into the bed, he pants wetly, trying to steady his breathing, and not come in four seconds.]
Fuck- yeah, what I fucking deserve. Cut my throat, Roman, nn.
Don't tell me what to do. [And he smacks the belt between Victor's legs, right on his cock and balls.] I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want to you. Anything. Everything. And you're going to fucking thank me for it, you understand me?
[Roman loves the sound of Victor screaming. Music to his ears. He makes such lovely sounds, Roman can't help but draw them out every chance he gets.]
Good. There's a good boy. [He gives his cock a few more light pats with the belt, more a tease than anything.] You want to be Daddy's good boy, don't you?
Yeah, I wanna be good, fuck, I do. [He keeps himself down, plaint and exposed for the belt. There's a twitch in his legs, an urge to close them but it's easy to fight down. Looking over his shoulder, Victor finds Roman, the belt still tightly in his hands.]
[Roman runs his free hand over Victor's lower back, keeping him pinned down.]
Then you'll be a good boy and tell Daddy whenever you so much as scratch your balls in front of someone, won't you? [A hit across the thighs comes after, nice and hard.]
[He listens. He listens to every fucking word that comes out of Roman's mouth in between the cracks of the belt. Roman doesn't hold back with the snap-quick swing of his arm. So Victor doesn't bother holding back either.
He howls. He howls like a cat in heat, the sheets and blankets bunching up between his fingers. There is no one on this apartment floor that will be unaccosted by Victor's wailing. The pain is far too intense, too pointed and severe to ignore. Muffling his cries by biting the sheets, does nothing.
By the time Roman finally asks his questions Victor is shaking, on the precipice of finishing far too soon.]
Good. Good. [Roman runs his fingers through the short hair at the back of Victor's neck, then up to scratch the top of his head like he's rewarding a dog.] You know Daddy hates to make you cry, baby, but I only do what's best for the both of us.
[It's a lie and they both know it. Roman loves making Victor cry.]
[He tilts his head so he can get more of Roman's touch, closing his eyes. There is no greater comfort than Roman's false assurances. Victor gets high on those lies.]
[Roman smiles down at Victor faux-sweetly. Then he moves his hand down, wrapping it around Victor's neck from behind, hauling him up by the throat.]
Here's what you're gonna do for me. [He murmurs into Victor's ear.] You're gonna get naked. Gonna get on your knees. And then you're gonna suck my cock so good that I forget the name of that fucker you cheated on me with.
[He feels bad. He does! The word "cheated" is such a disgusting word to use.
But, how can he feel bad for long when Roman does that to him? The bastard is toying with his arousal. Victor nearly loses his footing from how rough Roman's voice is in his ear.]
Yes, sorry.
[He doesn't pull away from Roman's hold. He merely brings shaky hands up to start unbuttoning his shirt.]
Good boy. [Then, just because he can, he releases Victor's throat and pushes him by the back of the head, shoving him roughly.] Don't keep Daddy waiting.
[Roman tosses the belt onto the bed, hands going to his pants to undo them nice and leisurely.]
There's that pretty mouth... [He slowly parts the two halves of his underwear, pulling his hard cock out of the slit in them.] Missed your pretty mouth, baby. Nobody else has fucked it since you got back, have they? Don't lie to me.
[Maybe it’s because he’s prompted, but Victor wets his lips the moment he sees the fat head of Roman’s perfect cock. He swallows thickly, and shakes his head.]
No one. Wouldn’t do that, they don’t trust me either.
[Roman smirks, showing his teeth. Good. He's glad people are too afraid of Victor to want to fuck his face. That means Roman gets that privilege exclusively.]
That's what I like to hear. [He wraps one hand around his cock and sets the other on the back of Victor's head, urging him forward.] Now, c'mon, don't keep Daddy waiting any longer...
[Letting his eyes slip close, Victor opens his mouth. There is no waiting, Roman's fever-hot head touches his tongue before the cool air does. The moan that Victor makes is loud and obscene, fingers gripping the scabbed and dry skin of his knees as he relaxes his jaw.
Roman is not nice when he starts. So he prepares in the little seconds he can.]
["Not nice" is one way to put it. Roman brutally fucks Victor's face, wanting to claim him, to put him in his place, to show him exactly who he belongs to. He doesn't build up to it; just starts pistoning his hips, gasping, an intense look in his eye as he stares down at Victor.]
Look at me. [His voice is gravelly and stern.] Fucking look up at me with those pretty eyes, you little bitch.
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[He huffs, smacking the back of Victor's head before he pulls away. He stalks over to the closet (which he's overtaken from Dinah), pulling out a thick, heavy belt.]
I know you're going to like this. I'm not an idiot. [He smacks the folded-up belt against his palm.] But I want you bleeding. Want everyone to know you're spoken for when they pull down your ugly fucking pants.
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[That's not hard to understand right? I mean to someone as smart as Roman it probably isn't. That's what Victor was thinking. Seems like it worked out pretty well, especially when he catches sight of the belt.
The promise. The reason behind it.
Victor grinds down against the bed.]
You could cut me up. They'd know.
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[He cracks the belt down hard across Victor's ass.]
And you're my things. My fucking property. [Another hit, harder than the first.] You're not a Dominant. Not a top. [Another.] You're a little fuckhole who needs to be put in his place. [Another.] Should cut a line down your throat myself, show them all who the real Submissive is.
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Digging his fingers into the bed, he pants wetly, trying to steady his breathing, and not come in four seconds.]
Fuck- yeah, what I fucking deserve. Cut my throat, Roman, nn.
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Yes- sorry, thank you
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Good. There's a good boy. [He gives his cock a few more light pats with the belt, more a tease than anything.] You want to be Daddy's good boy, don't you?
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Yeah, I wanna be good, fuck, I do. [He keeps himself down, plaint and exposed for the belt. There's a twitch in his legs, an urge to close them but it's easy to fight down. Looking over his shoulder, Victor finds Roman, the belt still tightly in his hands.]
Want to be good for daddy.
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Then you'll be a good boy and tell Daddy whenever you so much as scratch your balls in front of someone, won't you? [A hit across the thighs comes after, nice and hard.]
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I fuckin' promise.
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Kissing on the lips.
[He spanks Victor with the belt.]
Kissing on the cheek.
[Another.]
French kissing.
[Another.]
Putting your mouth on someone's tits.
[Another.]
Someone putting their mouth on your tits.
[Another.]
Oral sex.
[Another.]
Anal sex.
[Another.]
Vaginal sex.
[Another, accompanied by a grossed-out look.]
Mutual masturbation.
[Another.]
Getting spanked by anyone who isn't me.
[Another.]
Touching anyone who isn't me.
[Another.]
Looking at anyone who isn't me.
[That might be a little much. Still, Victor gets another.]
Is that abundantly fucking clear, Mr. Zsasz?
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He howls. He howls like a cat in heat, the sheets and blankets bunching up between his fingers. There is no one on this apartment floor that will be unaccosted by Victor's wailing. The pain is far too intense, too pointed and severe to ignore. Muffling his cries by biting the sheets, does nothing.
By the time Roman finally asks his questions Victor is shaking, on the precipice of finishing far too soon.]
Y-Yeah.
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"Yeah?" Is that how you speak to me? [This time, when he hits Victor, he nicks him with the belt buckle.]
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No, sir.
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[It's a lie and they both know it. Roman loves making Victor cry.]
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I know. [He sniffles like a fucking baby.]
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Here's what you're gonna do for me. [He murmurs into Victor's ear.] You're gonna get naked. Gonna get on your knees. And then you're gonna suck my cock so good that I forget the name of that fucker you cheated on me with.
[Yeah, he said it, Victor. Cheated on him!!]
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But, how can he feel bad for long when Roman does that to him? The bastard is toying with his arousal. Victor nearly loses his footing from how rough Roman's voice is in his ear.]
Yes, sorry.
[He doesn't pull away from Roman's hold. He merely brings shaky hands up to start unbuttoning his shirt.]
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Good boy. [Then, just because he can, he releases Victor's throat and pushes him by the back of the head, shoving him roughly.] Don't keep Daddy waiting.
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With a shrug, his shirt slips off his shoulders and falls to the floor.
It doesn’t take long for his pants, underwear and shoes to follow, standing there in nothing but his birthday suit and rings.
He falls to his knees.]
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There's that pretty mouth... [He slowly parts the two halves of his underwear, pulling his hard cock out of the slit in them.] Missed your pretty mouth, baby. Nobody else has fucked it since you got back, have they? Don't lie to me.
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No one. Wouldn’t do that, they don’t trust me either.
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That's what I like to hear. [He wraps one hand around his cock and sets the other on the back of Victor's head, urging him forward.] Now, c'mon, don't keep Daddy waiting any longer...
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Roman is not nice when he starts. So he prepares in the little seconds he can.]
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Look at me. [His voice is gravelly and stern.] Fucking look up at me with those pretty eyes, you little bitch.
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