Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Did you let Morgan do this? Did you bend over for him? Get down on your knees? Did you beg, Jensen?"

Jared watches Jensen's face. Sees the guilty blush spreading over his cheeks, down his throat.

"Did you call him Sir?" Tim asks, his mouth brushing, barely there, like a wisp of wind, against Jensen's neck. Jensen shivers. "Answer me, boy." Tim growls, not as deep or rich as Jeff, but with the same authority in his tone that Jared just can't quite duplicate.

"No," Jensen's gulps, eyes - dark pupils consuming glassy green - flicking across the room to where Jared is sitting. "No, no, I didn't call him Sir."

Tim grabs Jensen's hands, pushes them up over his head and pins them to the bedroom wall that Jensen’s backed up against. "No? Really?” His knee pushes in between Jensen's legs, nudging them apart. "What then? What did you call good old Jeff? Let me guess; Master? Daddy?"

Jensen inhales so violently that Jared misses a breath.

Tim chuckles. "Daddy, eh? You got a bit of a kink there, boy? You like Daddy teaching you a lesson...disciplining you, smacking your naughty ass?"

Jared's cock, already more than on board with the entertainment, twitches excitedly at the phantom image of Omundson's hand, as big and firm as a paddle, slapping against Jensen's ass, turning it red, heating it up.

"Hmm, boy?" Tim leans in, his mouth hovering tantalizingly over Jensen's. "Did Daddy beat your ass?"

"Yeah," Jensen gasps and screws his eyes shut. Jared wonders if he’s remembering the nights they spent with Jeff. All the times that Jeff held Jensen down across his lap and spanked his bare ass until Jensen came in hot spurts without so much as a finger brushing against his cock. Jared’s fingers dig into the cushioned armrests as he recalls the way Jeff could take Jensen apart - make him beg. "Yeah, he...he paddled my ass because I...I...was-"

"You were what, Jensen?" Prompts Tim.

Jared leans forward, not wanting to miss a syllable of Jensen's reply.

"He said because I was a...a...slut....a whore."

Jared grins and palms his cock. Jensen's face is beet red. But Jared would lay good money that his boyfriend's dick is hard enough to hammer nails right now.

Tim's smile is sharp. "It sure looks like he had a point, doesn't it? I mean, look at you? Almost creaming yourself like a teenager and I've barely touched you. I bet Jared has his work cut out keeping you in line. Poor kid probably has to keep your dick locked up just to stop you whoring yourself about set."

"No...no...no. I'm good," Jensen whines, rolling his head from side to side.


If Jared wanted to he could back him up. Jensen has never cheated on him. Never gone behind his back. And Jared’s secure in the knowledge that he never would. Jensen loves him. Would do anything to make Jared happy. And Jared would do anything to make Jensen happy, including occasionally letting him play out his daddy fantasies.

Jeff had been their first - and for a long time their only - fuckbuddy, playmate; Jared’s not sure there's a label that quite covers it. The first time it happened, Jared and Jensen had only been together for around four months, still very much in the hot and heavy first flush of their relationship. Jensen had been in tears when Jared confronted him about his crush, convinced that Jared was going to break up with him. Jared isn't an idiot though. He knew from about two minutes after meeting Jensen that he wanted to spend forever with him. It also took about two minutes of watching Jensen with Jeff to realize that his boyfriend had a kink. Luckily, Jared has never had a problem with sharing; something his mama was always very proud of. As long as he’s in control, Jared’s quite happy to share his boyfriend – his boyfriend’s body at least. His love – that’s all Jared’s.

The first time had been a threesome, and a total disaster. Jensen had been too tense, too stressed, felt too guilty. He'd torn himself apart trying to please both Jeff and Jared and had ended up a sobbing wreck. It was Jared that suggested he just watch Jeff and Jensen the next time. Jensen had taken some convincing, but in the end it had all worked out. Incredibly well. Jared had uncovered a voyeurism streak a full mile wide that he never knew he had, and then he'd gotten to fuck Jensen, all blissed-out drowsy and loose and sloppy afterwards. Plus Jensen had rewarded his generosity with unlimited blow jobs for weeks afterwards.

It's not something they indulge in often. Their sex life is pretty damn awesome even on their bad days. Jensen doesn't go looking for guys to fuck. He loves Jared, more than Jared thinks is sensible and he would never do anything to hurt him. And although Jared doesn't have a problem with Jensen sating his daddy kink, there aren't many people out there that he trusts to play with his boyfriend.

Jared trusts Tim. He liked him from the second he strolled on set. There was no inflated ego, no demands. Unlike some actors, no fake smiles or ass-kissing. He's genuinely generous, warm and kind. A straight-up guy. Although thankfully, Jared thinks with a wry smile, not entirely straight. And Tim is just rough enough, just built enough, just about old enough to be exactly Jensen's type. The chemistry between them on set was unmistakable. Every time they talked, Jared had felt the electricity crackling through the air. He saw the way Jensen couldn’t meet Tim’s gaze, the way he stammered and bit at his lips. And even as he was fucking Jensen’s face and marking him up, reminding Jensen exactly who he belonged to, Jared was planning on how to arrange this evening’s little party. He certainly hadn’t had any doubts that Tim would jump at the opportunity to see Jensen naked and on his knees.


"You're a good boy, hmm? We'll see." Tim pushes his weight against Jensen's wrists. "Keep your hands there. You hear me, Jensen? Keep them right there."

Jensen tips his head in a barely-there nod and breathes a little heavier. Tim strokes his fingers down Jensen's arms. Tickles softly over the delicate skin on the inside of his wrists, the fine hairs on the back of his forearms, the crook of his elbow, under his armpits and down over his ribs. Jensen's hands don't move; stay pinned against the wall above his head as though they're chained there.

The tee-shirt that Jensen's wearing is thin grey cotton, sheer with wear, and tight, clinging to his chest like a second skin. Tim works it up his torso, slowly, inch by inch, revealing pale skin that flutters under every touch. When it's rucked up below Jensen’s armpits, Tim leaves it there, a constricting band above his nipples.

Bending down and ducking his head, Tim nuzzles against the tiny bulge of belly that Jensen's so paranoid about. Jared, personally, loves it. He'd spend hours rubbing his face against that buttersoft slice of heaven if Jensen would let him.

He lets Tim. Obedient and pliant. Arms above his head, not moving. Tim mouths across Jensen's stomach, presses wet kisses up his torso, his beard grazing over sensitive skin. He latches onto one nipple, his fingers pinching the other. Jensen groans. Jared shifts uncomfortably on his seat, his dick pressing insistently against his zipper.

Tim plays with Jensen's nipples until they are viciously red. Squeezes those little nubs, scrapes his teeth across them, draws them into his mouth, bites down and shakes his head. Jensen writhes against the wall, his hands slipping just a little.

"God, Jensen, such pretty nipples. Did Jeff play with them? Bite them, clamp them up. Did he make you come just from twisting on them, hmm? Does Jared?"

Jensen looks down at Tim, mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide.

"I hope you're not moving those hands, boy." Tim chides, disapproval clear in his narrowed eyes, and Jensen straightens up his arms like a shot.

Tim grabs the bottom of Jensen's tee-shirt and drags it up over his shoulders, stretches it over his head and all the way up his arms before dropping it carelessly to the floor at Jensen's bare feet. His fingers trace down over the swirling patterns of Jensen's freckles as they skim back down his body, flicking Jensen's pebbled nipples as he passes them.

"Will we see what you've got hiding under here?" Tim asks tracing a finger over the visible bulge in Jensen's jeans. "See if you've got anything I might be interested in?"

Jared's breath catches in his throat. He knows exactly what's hiding under Jensen's jeans. He was the one who told him what to wear; told Jensen to clean himself up good in the shower while he laid his clothes out on the bed. That was before he'd shared the news that they were expecting a guest.

Now, he waits and hopes that Tim likes what he sees. Doesn't understand how he couldn't.

Tim takes his time unbuckling Jensen's belt, sliding the leather all the way loose from the loops, slaps it against his palm before dropping it on the floor.

Shivers race under Jensen's skin and his eye search out Jared as Tim flips open the buttons on his jeans, one by one. Worry and doubt flitting across green irises like a breeze rippling through a Texas meadow. Jared meets his gaze, nods almost imperceptibly, willing Jensen to hold his nerve, be brave, stay still.

The noise Tim makes when he tugs the denim open and reveals sweet baby-pink lace is almost animalistic. A deep rumble that claws its way up his throat. The hair on the back of Jared's neck prickles.

"Christ," Tim groans, grabbing Jensen's jeans and hauling them down his thighs. "Christ, Jensen, look at you. Jesus, fucking Christ, boy!"

His thumb brushes over the head of Jensen's dick where's it's trying to burst through the fine lace. "So pretty, Jensen. Pretty in pink, fuck!"

Jared winces at the creak in Tim's joints as he thuds to the floor, but if his knees hurt, Tim doesn't acknowledge it. He's far too busy sucking on Jensen's balls through his panties. Jensen's eyes roll up and his fingers curl into fists. Tim grabs Jensen's muscled thighs and holds him steady as he licks hot lines up Jensen's trapped cock.

It's a toss-up as to who moans the loudest as Tim devours Jensen through the thin barrier of lace. Jensen is a whimpering mess, unable to hold still but trying so hard to behave for Tim...for Jared. Jared has to unzip his own jeans, the pressure of rough denim against his erection just too great to ignore. Tim sounds like he's gorging himself on the sweetest feast, groaning his appreciation with hearty enthusiasm. The panties are deep pink and sopping wet by the time he's had his fill.

Jared is so intent on watching Tim ravage his boyfriend that he doesn't notice that Jensen's hands have slipped; his fingers tangling in the wild silver waves of Tim's hair without permission.

"I thought you were going to be good for me, Jensen," Tim frowns up at him, his face slick with spit, his beard sticking with it.

"Sorry," Jensen gasps, only seeming to realize now what he's done, his arms flying back up to where they're supposed to be. "I'm sorry. I'll...I can be good. I promise."

"Sorry isn't good enough, boy. I gave you a chance to prove you weren't a slut. And look at you." Tim straightens up, leaning into Jensen, inhaling the heady scent of his arousal.

"Turn around."

"What?" Jensen hesitates. "I...what?"

"You heard me, Jensen, turn around. Now, before you really piss me off."

Jeans twisted around his ankles, hands above his head and cock straining against his ruined panties, Jensen shuffles around.

Jared shrugs his jeans and boxers down under his ass and takes his cock in his hand.

Tim manhandles Jensen until he has him positioned just where he wants him. A few steps back, bending over, hands on the wall for support. Ass presented perfectly.

Tim tears the panties off of Jensen, ripping them into tiny scraps of material. Jensen whimpers and Jared knows that if he could see Jensen's cock it would be purple headed and leaking. Tim rubs the palm of his hand over Jensen's ass cheeks. One and then the other. Warming the delicate skin.

Then he slaps. Jared's cock jumps in his fist. Jensen shudders, sticks his ass out further, probably without even realizing he's doing it.

Tim draws his hand back and slaps again. The other cheek this time. A red hand-print blossoms against ivory skin.

"Please," Jensen gasps. "Please."

"Please, what?" Tim says placing one hand on the small of Jensen's back, holding him in place. He swings his hand back and lays another smack on Jensen's cheek. The flesh shuddering under the impact. "What do you want, boy? You want me to stop? Or you want more. Do you want me paint your ass red? Make it so you can't sit down, can't even wear pants without feeling the burn from my hand. From your Daddy's hand."

Again and again Tim's hand comes down on Jensen's ass.

"Please," Jensen says again, voice cracking. A mottled flush crawls down his neck, spreads over his shoulders and creeps down his back. "Please, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Tim intersperses every word with a loud slap. His hand must be stinging.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't good," Jensen sobs. "I'm sorry that I'm...ahh...I'm sorry that I'm a slut, Daddy. I'm sorry."

Tim's hand freezes mid-air, clenches into a tight fist then stretches out again. "You had enough, Jensen?"

"Yes," Jensen hiccups, sounds like huffy toddler. Jared recognizes the tone of voice, and knows if it was his hand hovering over that trembling ass, he wouldn't let his boyfriend get away with that play-acting.

"You sure?" Tim asks, scratching a deep white path across scarlet flesh. "You sure you don't want me to grab that belt and stripe you up pretty?"

The high-pitched whimper that spills from Jensen's lips is answer enough.

Tim bends down and retrieves the belt from where its lying discarded at his feet.

"Three strokes, Jensen. You can take that right? A tough guy like you?" Tim doubles the leather in his hand, the buckle safely gripped in his fist.

"Three?" Jensen repeats.

"Yeah, that's right, Jensen. Just three, that's all." Tim brushes the curved leather up the back of Jensen's thighs, waiting for Jensen to say the word.

Jared's tempted to butt in. To push Jensen. To reassure him. Tell him how good he's being. Tell Tim that Jensen can take more. This isn't his show though. He waits. Watches.

Jensen nods.

That's not what Tim wants though. With a light touch, he skims worn leather lightly over Jensen's bruised skin. "You're going to need to ask me nicely, boy. Show me those pretty southern manners."

Jensen casts a dark look over his shoulder at Tim who simply raises an eyebrow.

"Please," Jensen says, grudgingly, a petulant scowl on his face.

Tim spares Jared a brief glance, says, "Your boy isn't very polite, Jared."

"Jensen," Jared scolds, the first time he's spoken to Jensen since Tim walked through the door. "Stop pouting and do what you're told."

"But, Jared," Jensen whines. And Tim cuts him off with a glancing flick of the belt to the underside of his balls. A pained yelp replaces Jensen’s gripes.

"Don't whine, boy. Now ask me nicely to tan your hide with this belt or I’m going to leave you here with your ass on display and let Jared decide how to punish you for being a teasing slut. And I’m pretty sure he isn’t going to do anything you’ll enjoy."

It takes a few seconds. A dense silence descends over the room; the air suddenly heavy with anticipation. Their gazes locked unflinchingly on Jensen, Tim and Jared waiting for him to decide how he wants this to play out.

Eventually, just as Jared thinks he might have to step in, Jensen takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry. Please, spank me with my belt."

"Please, what?" Tim pushes.

"Please, Daddy," Jensen blurts out. "Please Daddy, strap my ass."

Tim doesn't wait to be asked again. He brings the belt down hard. Three times. Three white slashes that turn to burnished crimson.

Jensen cries out, his fingers scrabbling at the wall, and Jared grasps the base of his cock to stop himself from coming.

"Good boy," Tim says, scraping the edge of the belt over the welts branded into Jensen's ass. "Now three more for being such a stubborn, ill-mannered brat."

"No,” Jensen keens. "I can't."

"Oh, I think you can." Tim leans forward, his beard tickling Jensen's shoulder, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin behind his ear. His fingers, strong and persistent, seek out Jensen's nipples, pinch and scrape, squeeze and flick. He skims down over soft, flushed skin, finds Jensen's cock - hard and desperate against his belly and obscenely wet with pre-come. Tim takes it in his hand, pulls and twists, until Jensen is shaking, whimpering; the hair at the nape of his neck damp with sweat. "I think you can take a lot more, boy."

Abandoning Jensen's cock, Tim clamps his fingers around his waist. Brings back the belt then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, whips it forward. Jensen screams and stumbles forward. Tim shows no mercy, does it again twice more, snap, snap, just as hard, just as unforgiving.

Jared watches, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, cock sliding through his fist, throbbing in time with the blood pounding in his ears. Jensen's knees buckle. He slips gracefully to the floor, limbs fluid and loose, hands sliding down the wall, his body shuddering, apologies spilling from his lips in messy sobs. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry."

Tim crouches down, turns Jensen around, combs his fingers through sweat-slick hair, wipes away fat tears. "You did good, Jensen. You did good."

"No," Jensen shakes his head, sniffs, eyes shining, lips trembling. "I came! I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry."


He came. Jared and Tim both look at Jensen's crotch. At his cock, soft and sticky.


Jared grins, feral. Tim shakes his head, stands up, unbuckles his own belt, slides down his zipper and frees his erection. Jensen's sobs fade to heavy breathing. "You are a slut, aren't you, Jensen." Tim takes his cock - stiff and thick - in hand, casually jerks himself off. Jensen whimpers, kneels up so his mouth is level with Tim's crotch, licks his lips, and relaxes his jaw. Begs without words.

"Look at you," Tim looks down at him, sneers like Jensen is a disappointment. Jared's appreciation of his acting skills hitches up another notch. "You come without permission, moaning like a filthy whore, and you still think you deserve to suck my cock? I don't think so slut."

Tim's hips thrust forward as he fucks his own fist, and Jared can see the frustration in Jensen's face. The way he's leaning closer and closer, biting his lips until they're blood red and swollen.

Holding his dick in one hand, Tim slaps it across Jensen's cheek. And Christ, Jared has never seen anything more pornographic, or anything hotter. The tips of Jensen's ears burn bright red, humiliation staining his pale skin. Tim caresses his own dick; teases Jensen with it, taunts him. He rubs it across Jensen's nose, down his cheeks, over his lips. Dirties him up with sticky trails of pre-come. Jensen whines, and his hands open and close frantically at his side, permission to touch himself or Tim not given. He stretches his mouth wide open, his tongue hanging out like a puppy. Tim slaps him with his cock again, straight across the hollow of his cheek, then firming his grip, he jerks himself off, rough and quick, ignoring Jensen's disappointed cry.

Tim comes with a shout, his back bowing taut, shoulders straining against his shirt. He aims straight for Jensen's face; spurts over his slack lips, his tongue, the bridge of his nose. He paints him up. Strings of jizz hang from Jensen's cheeks, cling to his eyelashes, drip over his lips.

"Don't close your mouth," Jared barks, the temptation far too great to resist. Kicking his jeans loose, he crosses the room as quick as his aching cock allows, jacks himself off, grunting as his orgasm rolls over him. His come shooting in hot ropes over Jensen's face, mixing with Tim's load.

"Fuck," Jared gasps, his chest heaving and legs unsteady. "Fuck, Jensen, you're such a fucking cumslut."

Jensen looks obscene. Kneeling naked and dripping with the sticky evidence of two men's orgasms. Come coats his tongue, dribbles from the corners of his lips.

Thinking a touch more clearly than Jared, Tim picks Jensen's tee-shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe the globs of spunk from Jensen's eyelids, then he orders Jensen to open his eyes.

If Jared could take a photo of Jensen right now, he'd never stop staring at it. He's beautiful. Filthy. Debauched. Intoxicated and utterly intoxicating.

"Shut your cock-sucking lips, boy." Tim says, voice a gravelly shadow of its usual timbre. "And swallow."

Looking up at Tim through clumped and tacky eyelashes, Jensen licks the warm mess from his lips, then he closes his mouth and swallows.

Jared sways, leans against the wall to shore up his weak knees.

"I think we need to teach you a lesson, Jensen." Tim says, and Jared can hear the tremor buried below his sonorous tone. "You need to learn what happens to boys that misbehave. And then, maybe if you can stop your slutty cock from coming for five minutes, we might just fuck you."

Jensen smiles, eyes glittering. "Thank you, Daddy."


Finis