Arty/Todd, Eye Contact

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“You’re late.”

Todd scowled as he dropped his bag on the floor. “Whatever,” he muttered. “That guy with the stupid haircut was on the bus again and he had a friend this time. They made me get off three stops early so they could rape me in a Roots fitting room.”

Arty sighed, standing up. Todd was just determined not to remember the basic rules he’d been given. Which of course he did remember and just chose not to observe. So Arty crossed the room and slapped Todd’s face with his palm. “That’s your problem. You were supposed to be home at four o’clock, and you were supposed to text me if you were going to be late.”

“Phone’s dead,” Todd muttered, still not making eye contact.

“Because you didn’t charge it last night, right?”


Arty slapped him again, on the other cheek this time. “The right answer was ‘I’m sorry, sir,’” he reminded Todd. Then he started to undress Todd. “How was school?” he asked, pulling his shirt off.

“Fine,” Todd said with a sigh. “We have this stupid math assignment that I don’t understand. I got a B on my French test, but I blew the teacher and got it changed to a B+. These two football guys spitroasted me at lunch and told me I should come to their practice tomorrow.”

“You should,” Arty said, taking Todd’s pants down. He was checking Todd for bruises and injuries as he went, but he didn’t have any beyond a few normal ones on his hips, which Arty kissed better. “If you’re good tonight I’ll let you decide if you want your cage or your ring on for it.”

A while ago, once Arty had taken more initiative with Todd, he’d swapped out the tight cock cages Derek liked with a set of rings that went over the base of Todd’s dick and his balls, and were connected to a plug that could be locked in by an app. It increased Todd’s functionality as a fucktoy for his friends, but also let Arty control whether or not he could get fucked that day. But sometimes the cage was better for him, and Arty knew that.

“I could have neither,” Todd muttered.

“If that’s what you want, you can definitely try to earn it,” Arty offered, standing. He didn’t actually get off on limiting Todd’s orgasms, but Todd liked it and Arty liked making Todd work for things, so it all worked out. He pulled Todd over to the bed and tossed him belly-down onto it, pulling the plug out and unzipping his pants.

Todd wisely didn’t say anything while Arty fucked him, laying there and taking it as hard as Arty wanted to give it to him. His hard dick was rubbing against the bed as they moved, but he didn’t complain and Arty only drew a few frustrated sounds out of him on particularly hard thrusts.

There was no trace of cum in his hole, which meant he’d stopped and cleaned himself out after getting fucked in the fitting room, like a good boy. Arty fixed that, filling him up again with an orgasm, and then plugged Todd again.

He sat on the bed and pulled Todd over his lap, trapping Todd’s boner between his legs, and touching his ass. “What’s the punishment for being late?”

“Twenty hits for every ten minutes,” Todd muttered, because of course he knew.

Arty nodded. “Once you’ve apologized, we’ll get started on your homework.”

“Okay. I’m, uh…I’m sorry for worrying you,” Todd said, still not looking at Arty properly, trying to pretend that was because of their position. He never looked at Arty when he knew he was in trouble.

Arty raised an eyebrow. Todd never apologized without being beaten into it. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.” It was hard not to worry about Todd when he wasn’t on time. He didn’t have any sense of self-preservation and he egged people on until they did more and more dangerous things to him.

“I probably will. I’m not sorry for being late. That’s a stupid rule and you’re stupid for making it.”

There was his Todd. “Let’s add another twenty hits for that, make it an even hundred.”

“Whatever. Like I can stop you.”

Arty chuckled and got started on Todd’s punishment. The best reason for doing it now was that once it was over, Todd would be happy to look him in the eye again.



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