A few minutes later, Armisen was splayed out naked, face-down, ass up on the coffee table, his long lumberjack limbs dangling over the edges. He waited patiently as Carson stood behind him, wetting his hands with coconut oil.
"You ready?" he asked.
Carson nodded, his knees weak at the sight of the man splayed out in front of him like a tenderloin.
"Uh huh," Carson said.
He slowly went to work, spreading the oil across Mr. Armisen's solid calves, carefully caressing his swollen ankle. He worked his way up towards his butt, soaking his cheeks in grease. His slippery buns gleamed golden in the firelight. Carson's cock strained against his jockstrap.
"That's right," said Mr. Armisen. "Get Daddy nice and buttered up."
Carson lifted his knees onto the table and crawled on top of the man, bringing the lubricant down across his lower back. He straddled Mr. Armisen's ass and sat right down, the man's curly butt hair brushing against his crack. Carson rocked on top of him, grinding against his smooth, wet skin.
He made his way up the giant's spine, exploring every inch of him as he slicked him over in grease. His back was densely packed with muscle, tightly wound stiff. Carson traced his fingers over the ripples in his back, a topographic map of some exciting foreign country. He started to massage him, squeezing his skin, loosening the knots in his hips, his ribs, his shoulders.
Armisen groaned like a bull, rumbling the table.
"How the fuck do you do that?" he grumbled.
Carson just kept going, feeling faint as he squeezed the giant's bulbous arms, the veins of his triceps as thick as his finger.
"Now for the other side," he said softly.
Mr. Armisen obliged, rolling over onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Carson sat down on his crotch, lathering up the man's washboard stomach, his pillowy chest.
He's a fucking god, Carson thought. I could worship every inch of him. I would build a church and kneel at his altar. I would-
"You almost done?" Armisen asked.
Carson slicked his fingers over the man's collarbone, taking every last possible second to touch him.
"Mmhmm," Carson said finally.
"Listen," said Mr. Armisen, his voice solemn and gravelly. "If we're going to do this, you're gonna have to pay close attention."
Carson looked up at him.
"I know I can get a little...excited," he began.
Carson remembered well-the chandelier shivering overhead, the thunderous boom from down the hall, his monstrous snarl. He had to admit it was a little frightening.
"So you gotta tell me if it hurts. If you want me to stop."
Carson nodded.
"You understand?" he asked, stroking Carson's cheek.
Carson opened his mouth to suck on his rough, hard thumb. "Mmhmm."
Armisen smiled, a bear's growl rumbling in his chest. He sat up and pulled Carson close, kissing him, his scratchy beard smothering his face. Armisen pulled away to put his soft wet lips on Carson's neck, scraping him with his teeth. Carson turned to putty in his hands. He didn't know the man could be so passionate, so romantic...
Carson couldn't help it. "Just do it, please. I want it."
Immediately, his sweet and tender nature changed, and Armisen seized Carson's wrists, so tight he felt like they could easily splinter in his fists.
"What did you say to me?" he growled.
"I-"
"The fuck did I tell you?" he said, shaking him. He leaned in, his hot, smelly breath moistening the tip of Carson's nose. "You don't tell Daddy what to do."
Before Carson could even breathe, Mr. Armisen lifted him up and flipped him over his lap, slamming down an open hand on his buttocks. SMACK. Carson's whole body jerked like he'd been electrocuted.
"Did that hurt?" he asked, feigning concern.
Carson's eyes watered, his ass stinging with white-hot pain. But suddenly, a sense of pleasure seeped through him-warm and wet and sweet. There wasn't a straightforward answer to his question.
"A little..." he gasped.
Armisen sighed. "Sorry. That's what happens when you break Daddy's rules."
He stood up, almost knocking Carson to the ground. Mr. Armisen caught him with a free hand just as he was about to hit the floor.
"On the table. Now."
Carson didn't even think, his whole body numb with adrenaline. He wasn't sure himself if it was fear or excitement. He just did as instructed, lowering himself onto the coffee table.
Armisen seized his ankles and jerked him into position, pulling him towards the short end of the table, his elbows squeaking against the glossy wood.
"Now be a good boy and stay there," said Mr. Armison. Carson gulped and nodded.
He watched the giant disappear into the bedroom, his big ass rippling behind him. Carson perched on the table like a statue, waiting. The fire beside him made his skin glow pink as he started to sweat. But he didn't dare move an inch away from the flames, even as they started to burn.
Only a few seconds later came the sound of Mr. Armisen's footsteps, slow and heavy like a predator.
"Now, remember what I told you," he said. "We can stop whenever you want."
Why the fuck would I want that? Carson thought.
"Just say the word," he continued. There was something slippery in his hands. "And if you can't, just raise your hand."
Carson felt his stomach twist with nerves when suddenly he heard the crack of a whip. He turned around.
There was Armisen, his stoney face drained of sympathy, a silk red tie coiled around his hands.
"Get ready for me," he said.
Carson just stared, unsure of what he meant.
Armisen grew impatient. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the tie against Carson's calves.
"Spread 'em."
