Archive of Our Own ^beta

It always took just a moment to remember what this was. The lights were dimmed and the quiet of the night had settled in around them. Kinger stood in a room. There was a bed, and a desk, and a black chest where he could gather anything he might want to use. He wasn’t in the fort. No, that was a safe place. That wasn’t for moments like this. He wasn’t in his room either. This room was a secret place, one that not even Jax and all his stolen keys could find. 

He can’t remember when this had started. He only remembers bits and pieces of it. He doesn’t know who approached who in the beginning, but he knows that he enjoys it. Caine had always made sure of that much. The same Caine who’s kneeling before him, on the floor with his hands behind his back and his head bowed. 

Oh that’s right. The update. They can do this now, and he’s waiting for permission and consent. If Kinger wishes, he can say no and they’ll be sent back to the circus. But he doesn’t say no, he reaches out, his fingers trailing over the upper set of gums. 

Caine jumps at the touch and it makes him wonder how long the AI had been waiting like this. Some days took longer than others, but this is something familiar. It’s been getting easier and easier to recognize where he is and what he’s allowed to do here. 

“You’ve been so patient,” Kinger says, his voice soft, “Now remind me, what have you done this time? Are you seeking a punishment, or a reward?” There were rules here. Caine could lie. He could say he deserves only the greatest of rewards and that he should be allowed to spend hours with Kinger between his legs. But he won’t lie. He’s a glutton for punishment and far too desperate to do right. It’s such a beautiful thing. 

Caine swallows, nervousness radiating off of him. It will definitely be a punishment then. “I was- I snapped again. I let my emotions get the better of me. And- I spoke out of turn Sir. I deserve a punishment.” 

Kinger wished he had a mouth just so that he could smile. Of course they made it work, and he would still be tasting the other man’s cunt, but it really wasn’t the same without a proper tongue. Still, he tuts softly. “Speaking out of turn.. I suppose you were jumping about, tugging one of the others as if they were on a leash?” He steps over to the chest and opens it, digging through as he manifests exactly what he wants. A thick, black leather belt, far too long to be worn like a proper belt, but the perfect length for what he has planned. “Such a shame. Tell me Caine, do you know what happens to boys that bite?” He folds the belt in his hands, tugging it so that the leather snaps together with a loud crack. 

“N- no Sir. I don’t know,” Caine says. Kinger glances over, noting the way he’s shifting back and forth on his knees. Probably anticipating a spanking or something of that sort. 

He flips the leather in his hands, threading it through the buckle to make a loop. “They get muzzled,” He moves closer to the other again. One hand slides beneath Caine’s lower jaw, lifting it so that the other can look at him. He already looks so desperate, mismatched eyes searching Kinger’s face to see what he has in store for him. Carefully, he loops the belt around his jaws, tightening it until his teeth are pressed together, blinding and silencing him. “Good?” he asks, his voice gentle as his fingers caress the sharp canines. 

Caine nods, letting out a soft whimper. Kinger watches as his thighs rub together, can imagine the way his hands are twisting behind his back. He buckles the belt slowly, his movements gentle and careful. He knows that if Caine really wanted he could just part his front teeth to speak, but he won’t. He may be a brat, but he knows when it’s best to follow the rules. He drops the excess, letting it hang down. 

“Good boy,” He smiles, fetching the rope. It’s a bright, brilliant red.After a moment of admiration, he tosses it to the bed for later. He takes the length of excess leather and gives it a tug, pulling the other to his feet like a dog on a leash. He slides his hand up until the cool metal of the buckle can be felt through his glove, then he leans in. 

Kissing is an odd thing without a mouth, but he can feel it. He presses the smooth wood where his lips should be along Caine’s gums, down to where his throat should be. His hands find the buttons of his jacket and undo them, pushing the red fabric from his shoulders to pool on the floor. The black bowtie is next, followed by the white undershirt. He’s slow and methodical, making the other stand there as he strips him until his ink black chest is fully bared. 

His hand finds the leash again and he pulls him forwards, watching the way he stumbles, unable to see where he’s supposed to be stepping. He doesn’t like hurting Caine, but there’s something beautiful in the way he crumbles. Taking away his power bit by bit until he’s a whimpering mess is far more satisfying than causing outright pain. 

“Hands behind your back,” he reminds him as he tries to reach out and feel where he’s supposed to be going. Caine’s response is immediate, his hands going behind his back so that he’s forced to not know. He reaches the bed and stops, still whimpering and fidgeting. And that just wouldn’t do at all. 

Kinger takes the rope and begins unwinding it. He makes noise as he does, humming as if he isn’t already hard and leaking against the velvet of his robe. He steps behind Caine, adjusting his hands so that he’s gripping his own forearms, and then he begins winding the rope around his limbs to keep them in place. He takes his time, letting the rope scratch against his lover’s skin as he tightens it to be properly bruising. 

He likes this part. Making Caine wait as he spins him, criss crossing the red rope over untextured skin that’s black as midnight. He’s purposeful, gentle as he listens to the others whines getting more and more pitiful. He fastens the rope around his shoulders and trails it down his chest. 

Caine’s knees begin to visibly shake so he pushes him back against the sheets. He collapses so easily, letting out a moan at the rough treatment. Kingers hands release the binding for only a moment. He grips his hips and drags him close, wrapping his legs over his hips so that Caine can feel how hard he is through the layers of fabric separating them. His teeth just barely part to let out a high whining moan. He’s so wet, his pants are damp from just how wonderfully wet he is. Kinger would give anything to taste him properly. 

He yanks his pants down, stepping back to get them off of him. His hands trail down the lengths of his legs. He’s so short that it doesn’t take nearly as long as he wants. But the sight is beautiful. Caine’s chest is flushed, and his breathing is heavy. His shoulders shift as he tugs at the binding around his arms, holding him in place. The belt around his jaws moves as he fights the urge to snap it away completely and beg for Kinger to stop playing and fuck him already. But this is a punishment. And he can’t always get what he wants right away. Then there’s his cunt, glistening with how desperately turned on he is, how badly he wants this. 

Kinger takes the rope again and loops it around his thighs, pulling his legs up so that they’re forced to remain open. He’s certainly going to have fun, but he’s going to make sure that Caine learns his lesson. With the ropes tied off and everything properly in place, he grips Caine’s hips and flips him. 

He’s forced into a position on his knees with his teeth buried in the sheets and his ass up in the air. It’s a fantastic ass, Kinger always has thought so, especially in these moments of lucidity when he can truly appreciate it. He reaches out, palming one of the cheeks and pushing it to the side so he can really see the other man's holes. He can’t quite recall if he’s fucked Caine’s ass yet, and thinks that he really should one of these days. Not today though. He’s got other plans for today. He reels back and strikes. 

Caine cries out into the sheets from the blow and shakes beneath him. Carefully, Kinger caresses the spot where he struck him, then he slaps the other side just as hard. He can hear the sob the other is trying to let out, the desperate need in the muffled cries. He strikes him again. And again. After each blow he takes a moment, caressing and pressing kisses to the place he struck. He can see bruises starting to rise on his ass, the dark purples and blues creating a lovely pattern over his skin. 

When he believes he’s had enough he grips the back of Caine’s jaw, lifting his face from sheets that are now soaked with tears and drool. The spit seeps between his clenched teeth, dripping from his gums to the bed below. He’s a proper mess, his coding probably so perfectly scrambles he would do anything Kinger asked of him without hesitation. 

“Such a good boy,” Kinger coos, the fingers of his free hand trailing along his lower jaw, “Taking your spanking so very well..” 

He gets a choked sob in response, a hiccup that makes Caine’s entire body jolt with need. He’s riding a fine line of pleasure and pain and Kinger wants him so very badly. 

“Do you think you deserve a reward for being a good boy? Do you want me to taste that messy cunt of yours?” He pulls Caine’s head back further, pressing kisses to his molars and gums. 

After a moment, Caine nods. He tries to speak, tries to beg properly, but his words are slurred and muffled to the point of being incomprehensible. 

Kinger just nods. He flips him again so that he’s on his back, slick from his cunt coats his thighs and the way he’s bound make his back arch so that his chest is pressed outwards. It’s a sight Kinger wishes he can commit to memory. He always wishes he can commit these moments to memory. But as long as Caine remembers and keeps bringing him back to this, he’ll certainly be happy.

He draws his fingers down Caine’s chest, tracing the ropes and the marks they’ve left behind. He falls to his knees between his legs, pressing kisses along his thighs. It’s an odd sensation, but when he closes his eyes, it almost feels like it should. He grabs Caine’s asscheeks in both his hands and drags him forwards. 

He trails his tongue up from his ass to his clit making Caine moan in relief at finally being touched. He’s wound so tight that it won’t take much, so Kinger knows that he’ll have to make the most of it. He presses his tongue into him, relishing the taste. It’s so sweet and salty, with an aftertaste of static shocks that run down his spine and straight to his cock. Caine grinds his hips against his face, moaning with satisfaction. 

Kinger pulls away, working upwards to his clit so that he can write love letters with his tongue. One of his hands slides between Caine’s thighs, two fingers dipping into him and making him arch and moan. He pumps his fingers slowly, wanting to make this last even as the other man’s thighs tremble and tug against the ropes to try to wrap around his head. He curls his fingers, hooking them upwards to find just the right spot. 

With that Caine’s body goes taut, like a band about to snap. His muffled moans and pleas become incoherent babbling as his cunt tightens around Kinger’s fingers. His hips buck and he moans loudly as he tips of the edge, cumming on Kingers hand as he laps at his clit. 

He brings Caine down slowly, pulling his fingers out of him and wiping them on the sheets. He steps back to take a good look at him in his post orgasm bliss. Drool drips from between his teeth, and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. 

Kinger lets his robe fall to the floor. He’s so incredibly turned on that it’s near impossible to think properly. With one hand he holds Caine’s hips as he guides himself into him with the other. He feels so wonderfully tight around him. It’s hot and slick and bliss. He slowly presses in, inch by agonizing inch. His favorite part is when he’s fully buried inside the other, so deep that he can see the bulge he creates at the base of Caine’s stomach.

He pauses, taking a moment to catch his breath. One hand finds the leash that’s still wrapped around Caine’s jaws, the other presses against the bulge, making Caine moan like a proper bitch in heat. He gives the leash a yank, pulling him in to kiss him properly. He closes his eyes so that his tongue can slide along the seam of Caine’s teeth, teasing him with the fact that he can’t kiss back. 

Then he begins to thrust. He’s gentle at first, easing Caine into the feeling. But he can feel his own desperation brewing. He picks up speed, his hands exploring wherever they can. He traces the ropes and trails his fingers over Caine’s gums. He moans loudly, panting against his shoulder. 

“[$%*&] you feel good- such a good boy Caine- taking me so well- feel so [#@*^]ing good-” he babbles. One of his hands finds the buckle of the belt and he releases it at last.

Caine’s jaws fly open and he begs and moans so wonderfully sweetly. “Please- Kinger please-” he whines, his voice hoarse from sobbing, “It feels so good- [$#*%] Kinger-” 

Kinger drags his face against his own, feeling their tongues slide against each other as they kiss. One hand stays on Caine’s lower jaw as the other dips between his legs, thumb drawing circles around his clit as he moans against Kinger. 

He’s so close, just riding the edge of oblivion. His hand finds the spot on Caine’s stomach where he can feel every thrust into him. He can feel just how deep he is inside him, marking every inch of his code as his own and no one else’s. He presses down, pinning him to the bed as he fully buries himself inside him and tips over the edge. 

He moans against him, hips twitching as he cums. He feels Caine tip over the edge only a moment later with his own moan of satisfaction. His entire body feels utterly electric yet exhausted. He stays for a moment, just catching his breath, feeling like he’s floating even though all his limbs feel heavy as lead. Carefully, he pushes himself up, looking at the other. He’s still tied with his legs spread and cum leaking from his cunt as he pants softly. 

Slowly, Kinger reaches out and begins to undo the binding. He works with just as much care as he did when tying him up. He presses kisses to the marks left behind and is gentle as he maneuvers Caine about. He gets some lotion, applying it to any bruises he’s left behind, caring just as much about the aftercare as any of the foreplay. He remembers how hard it had been to convince Caine of this part's importance. The other had been confused about why he shouldn’t just snap away any mess and call it good. Now he seems to let himself enjoy it. 

Finally, Kinger takes a cool cloth, working it over Caine’s thighs to clean him up. He looks fantastic with cum running down his thighs, but the scene is over, and the others might be wondering where they’ve ended up if they aren’t careful. 

“Do you mind getting the sheets?” he asks, a smile in his voice as he leans over and presses kisses to Caine’s teeth. In response Caine lazily raises a hand and snaps, immediately leaving them fresh sheets. With that, Kinger climbs into the bed and cuddles up behind him, kissing his shoulders and running his fingers in lazy circles over his ribs until they both drift away to sleep.