Playing With Spencer by Izaia Winter

Chapter Sixteen

Turner

In the end, Spencer didn’t bake me cupcakes or brownies. By the time we made it back to his house, we were both so emotionally drained from what had happened that we found ourselves cuddling on the couch. We watched reruns of some competitive baking show Spencer loved and ate deliciously greasy takeout. Because sometimes, it wasn’t the submissive that needed the aftercare.

Spencer was quieter than usual for a few days after the confrontation with Tasha. His naughty grin wasn’t as quick to appear, and there were several times I caught him staring off into space in silence, his eyes dark and somber. I’d offered to give him space, but that had been the last thing he’d wanted. I knew he was processing what had happened and how it had shaped his life, so I let him be.

We spent more time at his house than at mine. I figured he wanted to be close to home while he worked through his feelings and tended his wounds. I didn’t mind. Spencer’s house was bright and fun, even if it was a bit messy. And when we made love, it was tender and sweet and sometimes desperate because we weren’t in the mood for kink.

It was almost a week later when I walked through Spencer’s front door to the smell of something amazing cooking.

“Sugar bear?” Spencer slid out of the kitchen and into the small entryway on his socks, quickly waving his arms to correct his balance before he fell over and landed on his butt. “You’re home!”

His smile was so him that I couldn’t help smiling back. “What are you doing, and what smells so good?”

“I’m making us dinner. Roast beef with potatoes and carrots and apple pie for dessert,” he said, and I could tell he was already feeling more himself.

That weekend he took me to the movies to see the newest thriller that was out, bought me popcorn and a pickle, and didn’t laugh when I buried my face against his arm at the scary parts. After the movie was over, we went out for pizza. Spencer was very understanding when I went on a ten-minute rant on why the butler made a better killer than the actual one. He’d only laughed twice, and in the end, he’d agreed with me.

The next day I took him to the traveling carnival that was in town for the week. We ate hotdogs that had no business tasting so good, rode the tilt-a-whirl one time too many, and Spencer won me a tie-dyed teddy bear that soon overtook Boots in my affections. We ate funnel cake covered in powdered sugar—of course Daddy said he could do better—and got lost in the house of mirrors. In a word, we had a blast. He’d even kissed me at the top of the Ferris wheel.

For the next week, it was date nights out and fun days at home. By some mutual agreement, the topic of the club stayed on the back burner. All the time we’d spent trying to suss out Tasha’s identity as Spencer’s secret nemesis had worn us both down.

We weren’t worried about what would happen when Spencer and I returned. Carson had called a few days after everything had gone down. Quite a few people had witnessed the scene in the playroom and had relished in retelling it over and over again to anyone who would listen. It was ironic. Tasha had tried so hard to ruin Spencer’s reputation with gossip, yet gossip was the very thing that was saving it.

I was the darling among the littles for telling Tasha to shut up. On the other hand, Spencer was a tragic, misunderstood hero who had suffered over the years and needed love and affection to heal his broken heart. It was like people had forgotten who Spencer was. Fun, loveable, and silly were just a few of the words that came to mind when I thought about him. Tragic and misunderstood didn’t even make the top fifty.

Spencer had rolled his eyes while Carson had laughed his ass off. “Why are people so dramatic?”

Snickering, I’d straddled his lap and pouted. “Aww, does Daddy need some love and affection?”

Eyes dark with desire, Spencer had promptly dropped the call and took me right then and there. And I made sure to give him plenty of love and affection.

Surprisingly enough, it was Marshall who finally breached the subject of the club.

I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom with Berry the Tie-Dyed Bear sitting in my lap while I played with my blocks. Sucking on my pacifier, I ignored the crinkling of my diaper as I shifted around. I’d gotten more comfortable playing in them with Daddy’s help, but I couldn’t quite kick the tiny bubbles of anxiety I got when thinking about it. I was fine when we were in the moment. I liked the way the thick cotton felt between my legs and how soft it was against my naughty places. It was the before and after that made me feel awkward and self-conscious.

Daddy was lounging on the bed behind me, idly scrolling on his phone while his fingers lazily played with my hair. He was just keeping me company when his phone buzzed. Checking his messages, his fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their soothing motion.

“Turner baby, Marshall wants to know if we’re going to the club tonight? Everyone is getting together to hang out,” he explained, his voice sounding neither excited nor weary. If anything, it was as if he was indifferent to the idea.

Tilting my head back, I looped a finger through my pacifier and pulled it out of my mouth. “That sounds like it could be fun,” I answered tentatively. “I think I’m starting to miss all my new friends.”

I could tell Daddy’s smile was genuine by the deepening of the laugh lines around his eyes. “How would you feel about reserving a room?”

“Do I get to pick?” I asked, thinking of all the rooms I’d seen in passing but had never explored.

Daddy’s smile matched mine. “No.”

Fully expecting a yes, it took me a few seconds to comprehend his no. “Wait, what? Why not?”

“Because,” he said, his voice just a tad bit condescending, “I am the Daddy, and you are the little.”

I crossed my arms and pouted. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“Since when has fair ever been a part of this?” He reached down to poke my nose. “Daddy gets to decide what is fair because Daddy knows what’s best. And Daddy is going to contemplate his options before making a decision.”

“Fine.”

“With less attitude, please.”

There was something about his smile that made me respond the way I did. “Or what?” I asked with as much bratty attitude as I could muster.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Daddy said, his eyes bright as if I’d just granted him everything he’d ever wanted.

Grabbing my arms, he pulled me up and onto the bed, rolled me over with a rough hand on my hip, and straddled my legs so I couldn’t get away.

“Daddy? What are you doing?” I asked, pressing my cheek to the bed.

“You’ll see.” His voice was cheerful, the complete opposite of how I was feeling. “You won’t be needing this,” he said, pulling at the tabs of my diaper. In a matter of seconds, he’d stripped it from my body and tossed it to the side.

He pressed a knee between my thighs and roughly parted them, making room for his other leg. Sitting on his heels, Spencer pressed forward until I was splayed across his lap. He held me in place with a hand to the small of my back as he leaned toward the side table and rummaged through the drawer, his cock rubbing against me the whole time. I wiggled my hips, biting my lip as the soft cotton of his pants rubbed against my exposed hole.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Spencer sang in my ear as he stroked his cock against my ass. “Naughty boy.”

I clenched my hands in my blanket and whimpered as his fingers ignored my cock and circled my asshole. His touch was light and frustrating. I wanted something firmer, not this… delicacy.

“Daddy,” I whined, tilting my hips and offering him my body.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted.” He pulled back, laughing when I whimpered. “Silly, silly Daddy.”

I almost forgot this was some kind of punishment when his slippery fingers breached my entrance. They were thick and satisfying as he worked them inside of me, and he didn’t waste any time. As soon as I’d accepted two fingers, he was pressing in a third. And when I could easily take him, he pulled out completely. Instead of the head of his hard cock pushing into my opening—honestly, I’d been expecting some form of orgasm denial—I tensed as Daddy began pushing something soft and pliable into my bottom. Something that wasn’t him.

“Da-daddy?” I drew in a sharp breath as the object continued to widen.

“Shh.” Daddy rubbed a hand across my lower back as he ruthlessly pressed forward. “It’s almost in. You’re doing so well. Taking your plug like a good boy.”

Knowing what he was pushing into my entrance didn’t make taking it any easier. Groaning, I rocked back and opened myself up. As soon as my asshole accepted the widest point, I closed around the plug. It was softer than I was used to from my toys—my inner muscles squeezed around the intruder, deforming the silicone until it pushed back.

Daddy bent over me and whispered in my ear as he grabbed my hand and let me touch the toy buried in my ass. The bar-shaped base fit nicely between my cheeks, and the neck was wide, holding me open for later.

“It’s gonna stay there until tonight when I take it out,” he said as he pressed my fingers against the base, shifting it inside of me.

“Daddy,” I whined as he let me go and climbed off the bed. “That’s hours away.”

He checked the time. “Two, to be exact,” he replied without an ounce of remorse. “Let me know if you need me to apply more lube, sugar bear.” He pinned me with his gaze. “And you will tell me, or I won’t touch you for a week.”

I took his threat very seriously. “I will, Daddy,” I promised.

“Good,” he replied, his expression rocketing back to its usual, playful self. “Want to watch another episode of Bake Off before we have to get ready?”

I moaned as I sat up and the plug inside my body made itself known. It was soft enough that it didn’t hurt but offered a pleasant resistance. And its girth made sure I couldn’t forget its presence.

“Do I get underwear?”

Daddy eyed my bare legs under my oversized t-shirt. “Hmm… no.” He spun around and headed out the door. “Come along, sugar bear.”

By the time we got dressed, drove to the club, and made it to the booth where the rest of our party had congregated, I was a horny mess. I constantly found myself dazing off as I tried rocking back and forth, just needing to get a little friction. Unfortunately, Daddy had applied more lube in the bathroom when we’d arrived, so rocking didn’t do much to satisfy the itch.

Ollie was the first to notice my predicament. He had that look about him that said he’d taken a plug or two in punishment.

He leaned over and nudged my shoulder. “What did you do?”

I groaned. “He baited me into talking back. He had this smug grin on his face,” I explained, my cheeks burning. “And I just had to.”

Emmie snickered at me from across the table, a cherry red lollipop in his mouth. “Someone got in trouble,” he sang.

Carson popped a hand against Emmie’s defenseless thigh. “Be nice, or you’re about to be in the same boat.”

Emmie pouted as he rubbed his leg but didn’t say another word.

“Don’t worry,” Daddy said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me against his side. “You’ll be out of it soon enough.”

“Really?” The table laughed when I instantly perked up.

“Really.” Daddy checked the time on his phone. “Actually, I need to go get the room ready. You remember what we talked about?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said, nodding. We’d briefly discussed our roles and how I was to play mine before we’d arrived.

He brushed a kiss on my lips as he stood. “Kane will be here in a little bit to show you the way. Be good.”

“Soooooo,” Ollie said slowly as I watched Spencer walk away. “What did y’all talk about?”

“Ollie!” Marshall stared at his boy in amazement.

“What? I was curious,” he defended.

“And it’s none of your business,” Marshall added.

I leaned in close. “I’ll tell you later,” I whispered, wiggling my brows.

Foster snorted as he swirled his drink. “I can see your punishment is really doing the trick.”

I huffed. “I wasn’t going to tell him the naughty parts.”

“Why not?” Ollie pouted.

I could tell by the look on Marshall’s face that Ollie wasn’t going to escape a second time unscathed. Before I could hear what diabolical punishment Marshall had cooked up for curious little Ollie, Kane approached the table and tapped my shoulder.

Bending down, he set his lips to my ear. “Boss wants to see you.”

Swallowing, I licked my dry lips and nodded as I got into character.

“Okay,” I replied nervously.  Standing, I ignored the rest of the table as I followed Kane down the hallway.

He stopped in front of an ornate door, crossed his arms, and nodded toward the room. “In there.”

I felt myself instinctually inch away from the door.

“He’s a very busy man,” Kane said as he reached for the doorknob. “It’s not wise to keep him waiting.”

Opening the door, Kane placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and pushed me into the room. “Good luck.”

“Wait!” I got a quick impression of gold and black before I spun back toward the door only to see it slam in my face.

“Turner Keene. I’ve been looking for you.”

I froze at the deep voice behind me. I’d never expected to hear it aimed in my direction. Spencer Howell was a very powerful and very dangerous man. I’d seen him on the front of newspapers shaking hands with politicians, and I’d heard the rumors. I’d heard he controlled the city. That he employed criminals and cutthroats and thieves. That he was a gangster in every sense of the word. And now he was aware that I existed.

Hearing water splash behind me, I looked down and noticed the intricately tiled floor. I was either in a bathroom or a torture dungeon, and my mind couldn’t decide which one was worse.

“Your brother owes me a lot of money,” he said, the words echoing in my brain.

How many times had I heard that exact phrase before? Ten times? Fifty? Victor was my little brother, and I loved him, but I couldn’t keep bailing him out of messes. Especially not if he was going to get himself tangled up with a man like Spencer Howell.

“I don’t know where he is,” I replied, dropping my head to the door. “The last time I saw him was a week ago. He came by my place, asked for twenty dollars, and then took off with my coffee machine when my back was turned.”

“What a pity.” Spencer’s sigh was loud. “Come here.”

I turned grudgingly and took in the room. The bathroom was fancier than any other I’d ever seen. The room was primarily black, but it didn’t feel as dark and oppressive as I thought it should. The warm sconces lent a pleasant glow to the gold accents. The mirrors on the walls bounced the light and made the room seem larger than it actually was. And in the large, clawfoot tub that dominated the center of the room, a dark-haired man lounged with his back to me. His hair was slicked back, and his arms were braced on the sides, throwing the muscles of his back into stark relief.

“Now.”

I shuffled across the room and stopped beside the tub, my hands rubbing against my pants as my palms sweated. He looked up and met my gaze. I sucked in a breath as his presence enveloped me. His eyes were a warm brown, warmer than they had any right to be, and his face was beautiful. I wanted him even though I knew it wasn’t right. This man had men barge into my home and threaten me. He’d brought me to this place, and I still had no idea what he had in store for me.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have any money, and I don’t know where Victor is.”

“I know,” he replied as his eyes looked me up and down. “What would you do to keep him safe? To pay off his debts?”

“Wh-what? I… I don’t understand. I told you I don’t have the money.” I shifted back when his eyes turned hungry.

“My men told me about you,” he said instead of answering me. “Sweet, innocent, virginal Turner Keene.”

“I’m not… I’m not a….” I couldn’t force the denial out.

“Oh,” he said softly, his eyes caressing my reddening cheeks. “But you are.”

My eyes dropped to his lap as if drawn by a magnet. His cock was hard and ready, poised.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew if I took off my clothes, I wouldn’t be the same ‘sweet, innocent, virginal Turner Keene’ I was by the time I walked back out the door.

But you will walk out the door, I thought to myself.

Staring at the floor, I reached for the hem of my shirt but stopped. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give my virginity to some gangster in a fancy bathroom to save my brother’s life. I couldn’t.

“Strip or I will make you strip,” he said after a moment passed, and I remained frozen.

At that moment, I knew I wasn’t making it out of his bathroom without giving him precisely what he wanted: me.

Closing my eyes, I took off my clothes as quickly as I was able to. My shoes were off by the time my t-shirt cleared my head. I yanked my underwear down with my pants and took off my socks while I was down there. In ten seconds flat, I was naked in front of him. I stared across the room at the blank wall. I couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when he took in my small body.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice so soft I wasn’t sure if he’d said it or the word was nothing but an illusion.

I jerked when his fingers slid over my hip then stilled. Spencer might be a big, powerful man who always got what he wanted, but I wasn’t giving him any more than I had to.

“Get in,” he said, spreading his legs and pointing to the space he made.

Grabbing the edge of the tub, I stepped into the water, unsure of what he wanted from me. Should I kneel? Just stand there? Sit?

I didn’t have to wait long. Spencer placed his hands on my hips, turned me away from him, and pulled me down into his lap. I reached for the edge of the tub as I lost my balance, gasping as his cock slid between my thighs and pressed against my balls. My head nestled in the crook of his neck with my cheek pressed to his skin. His hold on me felt intimate and tender, but it was wrong. He was forcing me into this, holding my brother’s life over my head, and yet there was something else in his hold, some feeling I couldn’t define.

“There,” he said as his hand trailed down my chest to wrap around my cock. “Isn’t that better?”

“No, this isn’t—” I voice cut out on a gasp as his hand tightened around my shaft.

“Hush now.” Spencer used his foot to pull the drain from the tub. “Stop talking. There’s nothing more to say.”

“But—”

His other hand gripped my jaw as he speared a finger into my mouth. “Suck.”

I obeyed instinctively. With his finger in my mouth, his hand on my cock, and the plug in my ass, pleasure flooded my body, and every reason I had for why this was such a bad idea faded away. He was just… everywhere. Inescapable. Powerful. Consuming.

I moaned around his digit when he abandoned my cock to tease the base of the plug. He tugged, testing how securely I held the toy, using the wide head to ready me for his cock. I tilted my head back, exposing my neck. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Spencer’s lips descended to tease my sensitive skin, his tongue following the line of the scar on my shoulder.

Gripping the base of the butt plug, Spencer removed the toy with an insistent pull and quickly replaced the emptiness in my channel with his cock. With his feet braced against the bathtub, he rocked me in his lap. He started slow, letting me get used to the feel of him invading my insides, pleasure drowning out all the voices telling me that this wasn’t a good idea, that this wasn’t what I wanted. He was just so thick and… there.

And when I began to moan and push back against his thrusts, something inside of him snapped. With a rough curse, Spencer pulled his finger and his cock from my body, pushed me out of his lap and onto my knees, and then bent me over with my hands clutching the side of the tub for support. Just as fast as he’d shifted our position, he was back inside me, his cock pounding in and out with every beat of my heart. His hands were punishing where he held on to my hips.

“Please,” I begged, not know what exactly I was asking of him. To stop. For more.

I let him decide.

Bending forward, I submitted myself to him completely. I’d been riding the edge for hours, and Spencer’s rough handling was only pushing me higher.

“Spencer, I can’t—”

He knew what I needed without another word. Pinching my nipple with one hand, he grabbed my cock and worked it in time to his frantic thrusts. His touch was all I needed. With a groan, I pressed my forehead into the white porcelain of the tub and held on as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through my very being. I was on the tail end of my orgasm, floating on cloud nine as I felt Spencer push deep and shoot his warm cum deep within me with a low grunt.

With tender hands, Spencer sat back and pulled me to his chest once more. Sprawled across his body, I closed my eyes and hummed as his hands caressed my skin, more content to hold me than they were to do any kind of exploring.

“Are we good?” Spencer asked, his lips pressed to my temple.

“Very,” I replied sleepily. “I think we should stay here forever.”

His laugh was soft and quiet. “There goes the dinner I had planned,” he teased.

My tummy rumbled, happy at the thought of food after all our exertions. “As soon as my legs start working again.”

“How did you like your toy?”

I sighed. “It was awful and amazing. I loved it.”

He laughed as his fingers stroked my thigh. “I’m glad you approve.”

“I so approve.”

Once Spencer was sure we were both okay, he turned the water back on and refilled the tub. He washed away the sweat and cum clinging to our bodies. When our time in the room was up, we were squeaky clean, wearing fresh clothes, and feeling closer than ever.

“So, where do you want to eat?” I asked as Spencer held open the door for me to exit first.

“How do you feel about Tex-Mex?”

“Mmmmm, fajitas,” I drooled as I stepped out into the hall. “Oh, can I get churros? No, wait, sopapillas. I want sopapillas.”

“Turner love,” Spencer said as he wrapped an arm around me. “I’ll get the churros, you get the sopapillas, and then we’ll share.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” I replied, high on love and dreams of sugar.