So, this prompt stood out to me, because I have a huge thing for spanking. It's pretty short, but I hope it satisfies.
Spanking, kind of dubious consent - considering Frank breaks in and spanks Matt.
-
Matt finds himself over Frank's lap, and he stills completely. His senses are going crazy, but he can still perceive everything - Frank's heavy breathing, the beating of both of their hearts, the growing smell of something more. There’s definitely something more, and it’s coming off of both of them.
"What are you doing?" he demands.
"What does it look like, Red?" Frank asks, voice deep, raspy. "You're a good Catholic boy, yeah? It must be a familiar position."
"No, I never...wait, are you actually trying to spank me?"
Frank's hand presses against Matt's lower back, hard. Matt thinks he could possibly fight it, escape the right grasp, but something freezes him in place. Something about this feels right and difficult to fight off.
"I ain't trying anything," Frank says. "You need a good punishment for getting in my way."
He pulls Matt's pants down with one brutal tug. He had come to Matt at home, where he has been wearing loose pants without underwear. The cold air of the apartment on his bare skin is enough to make Matt tense up. Frank lays one hand flat on Matt's bare skin and it's almost electric.
"You can't..."
Frank cuts him off with a harsh slap. Matt jolts forward, the pain instant and strikingly sharp. He starts to pull away, but Frank yanks his right arm back.
"Don't move."
The tone of voice stills his victim completely.
Frank starts slow, but firm, each smack of his flat hand sending waves of fire through his victim. Matt is still at first, but then starts to wriggle. Heat spreads over his entire backside.
"Gonna get you as red as your stupid suit."
As he keeps barreling down on Matt's bared backside, Frank can't seem to stop talking. Another type of heat rises, the heat in Matt's face, the heat…elsewhere.
"God, I wish you could see your own ass, you know that? You color up so nice. Wonder if we can add some bruises to that pretty picture..."
Matt tries to drown out the sound of Frank's voice, but that only focuses everything in on the pain. It's starting to hurt, badly. No, not worse than the wounds he sustained day in and day out as Daredevil, but a different kind of hurt.
Frank pulls his head back with a gentle tug to his hair. Matt has to bite his bottom lip to keep from moaning. "You gonna cry?" he asks. "I think you need a good cry, kid..."
The words almost act like a conductor, giving him permission. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, and he blinks. He cries, softly, head hanging. Frank keeps spanking him, digging his fingers into the flesh in between blows. He’s pretty sure that he’s beat red and Frank’s definitely getting some of the bruises he’d rambled about.
He stops kicking, and squirming and just takes it.
“That’s a good boy, such a good boy…”
A sense of relief comes over Matt, like the constant sensory overload that he endures every second has stopped, at least somewhat. Then, in the emptiness, comes something else.
He’s hard.
Matt inhales sharply, surprised at this little fact.
“I think we’re done here,” Frank says softly, rubbing his hand in a small circle on his left cheek. It soothes the heat, but only increases the sudden other heat. “You took that really well; you know?”
“I…yeah.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Frank asks, and then stops, when Matt inadvertently spreads his legs. “Oh…”
“I’m not…”
“Look, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” Frank says, using the nickname with a hint of condescension. “You’re the blind one, not me. I see that quite clearly. How bout we get you cleaned up and then take care of that?”
Matt doesn’t know what to say, so he just says “okay.”
Fill - Okay - Matt/Frank - Spanking - 1/1
Spanking, kind of dubious consent - considering Frank breaks in and spanks Matt.
-
Matt finds himself over Frank's lap, and he stills completely. His senses are going crazy, but he can still perceive everything - Frank's heavy breathing, the beating of both of their hearts, the growing smell of something more. There’s definitely something more, and it’s coming off of both of them.
"What are you doing?" he demands.
"What does it look like, Red?" Frank asks, voice deep, raspy. "You're a good Catholic boy, yeah? It must be a familiar position."
"No, I never...wait, are you actually trying to spank me?"
Frank's hand presses against Matt's lower back, hard. Matt thinks he could possibly fight it, escape the right grasp, but something freezes him in place. Something about this feels right and difficult to fight off.
"I ain't trying anything," Frank says. "You need a good punishment for getting in my way."
He pulls Matt's pants down with one brutal tug. He had come to Matt at home, where he has been wearing loose pants without underwear. The cold air of the apartment on his bare skin is enough to make Matt tense up. Frank lays one hand flat on Matt's bare skin and it's almost electric.
"You can't..."
Frank cuts him off with a harsh slap. Matt jolts forward, the pain instant and strikingly sharp. He starts to pull away, but Frank yanks his right arm back.
"Don't move."
The tone of voice stills his victim completely.
Frank starts slow, but firm, each smack of his flat hand sending waves of fire through his victim. Matt is still at first, but then starts to wriggle. Heat spreads over his entire backside.
"Gonna get you as red as your stupid suit."
As he keeps barreling down on Matt's bared backside, Frank can't seem to stop talking. Another type of heat rises, the heat in Matt's face, the heat…elsewhere.
"God, I wish you could see your own ass, you know that? You color up so nice. Wonder if we can add some bruises to that pretty picture..."
Matt tries to drown out the sound of Frank's voice, but that only focuses everything in on the pain. It's starting to hurt, badly. No, not worse than the wounds he sustained day in and day out as Daredevil, but a different kind of hurt.
Frank pulls his head back with a gentle tug to his hair. Matt has to bite his bottom lip to keep from moaning. "You gonna cry?" he asks. "I think you need a good cry, kid..."
The words almost act like a conductor, giving him permission. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, and he blinks. He cries, softly, head hanging. Frank keeps spanking him, digging his fingers into the flesh in between blows. He’s pretty sure that he’s beat red and Frank’s definitely getting some of the bruises he’d rambled about.
He stops kicking, and squirming and just takes it.
“That’s a good boy, such a good boy…”
A sense of relief comes over Matt, like the constant sensory overload that he endures every second has stopped, at least somewhat. Then, in the emptiness, comes something else.
He’s hard.
Matt inhales sharply, surprised at this little fact.
“I think we’re done here,” Frank says softly, rubbing his hand in a small circle on his left cheek. It soothes the heat, but only increases the sudden other heat. “You took that really well; you know?”
“I…yeah.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Frank asks, and then stops, when Matt inadvertently spreads his legs. “Oh…”
“I’m not…”
“Look, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” Frank says, using the nickname with a hint of condescension. “You’re the blind one, not me. I see that quite clearly. How bout we get you cleaned up and then take care of that?”
Matt doesn’t know what to say, so he just says “okay.”