Two Hours, Eighteen Minutes

Two Hours, Eighteen Minutes

Kinktober, October 12

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where Rafe is edged for exactly two hours and eighteen minutes.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

Rafe and you haven’t been able to meet up for a couple of days now. It’s still way too early in the relationship to even think about moving in together, though a part of you can’t help but wonder what it would be like. Another part of you isn’t entirely sure if Rafe and you even like each other outside the bedroom.

The sex is incredible, no doubt—the best you’ve ever had. Your gut tells you it’s the same for him. You’d introduced him to this whole world only a couple of months ago, and so far, he’d embraced every part of it. He worships you.

Still, sex alone doesn’t make a relationship, and you can’t help but get insecure sometimes. You wonder whether he’s more enamored with the way you dominate him than who you are. But those thoughts disappear as soon as your phone rings the minute you leave your office.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Rafe’s voice rasps through your AirPods. “How did your presentation go?”

Your heart warms. He’d sent a couple of good luck texts throughout the day, but hearing his voice check in felt different—more intimate.

“It went really well,” you reply, pushing through the door and heading down the stairs. “They loved the proposal. It’s basically accepted; I’ll know by Monday.”

“Sounds great,” Rafe responds. You can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah. Thank you for checking in, babe. How’s your day?”

“Eh,” he sighs, “boring as fuck, but okay.”

“Are you off work already?” you ask, your voice turning suggestive. “I could think of a couple ways to make your day more exciting.”

“One more client,” he groans. “I could be at your place in maybe one and a half hours. Two, max.”

You grin, an idea already forming. “I’ll give you an incentive to hurry then,” you say smugly, unlocking your car. “I’m gonna time how long it takes you to get here. However long it takes, that’s how many minutes I’ll edge you tonight.”

His groan is instant, guttural. “Babe, no, you can’t do that to me.”

“Aw, I’ve done worse,” you tease, waving goodbye to your coworker in the parking lot. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally let you come.”

“Fuck, babe. I’m hard already,” he admits.

You laugh softly, “Better behave for that last client then.”

“I will, I just need a second,” he chuckles.

“Maybe we should stop talking. The clock’s ticking.” And with that, you hang up, leaving him to stew in his anticipation.

#

Two hours and eighteen minutes. That’s the time he has to last tonight.

You order Rafe to sit on the couch, and he obeys without hesitation. There’s a mix of excitement and tension in his eyes as you stand over him, watching his every move.

“The only thing you need to do is obey,” you remind him with a wicked grin. “I’ll handle the rest.”

First, you tie his hands behind his back, tight but not too tight—just enough to remind him of his place. Then, you hold the ball gag in front of his mouth, giving him that familiar, expectant look. He knows the routine, so you prompt him anyway, “Remind me of your safe words and the gestures for when you’re gagged.”

He quickly shows you, and you nod approvingly. “Good boy. Open up.”

He opens his mouth willingly, and you fit the gag between his lips, securing it behind his head. Then you grab the blindfold, wrapping it around his head and plunging him into darkness.

You move behind him, kneeling on the couch, so his back is against your chest, his body sitting between your legs. “Spread those legs wide,” you command, your voice low and firm.

He obeys, his thighs parting for you.

“Keep them spread. That’s your only job today. Keep those legs open for me.”

You set a timer on your phone and place it beside you. “Two hours and eighteen minutes,” you murmur into his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “When the timer goes off, you can come whenever you’re able.” You lean closer, lips grazing his neck. “Until then, you’re mine to play with.”

You hit start on the timer. It’s going to be a long, teasing stretch—especially since he can’t see how much time has passed. The power of control pulses through you, making you feel downright diabolical.

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss just below his ear, his sensitive spot. His cock twitches, a low moan escaping his gagged lips.

“Mmm, so responsive already,” you praise, smiling against his neck. You start by spanking his inner thighs, alternating between slow strokes and stinging slaps, enough to make his skin redden. You drag your nails across the heated flesh in between sets, making him shiver.

“Has it been two hours yet?” he manages to ask through the gag, humor barely hiding his discomfort as you land a slap dangerously close to his balls.

You smirk. “Still in a joking mood?” You slap him harder, making his legs tremble as he tries to keep them spread. You dig your nails into his thigh, watching his body strain against his binds.

"Remember," you say, your voice feigning innocence as you lightly tap his balls, "the gag is there for a reason. I don't want to hear you speak, understood?"

He nods quickly, his thighs quivering with the effort of holding himself open for you. When his knees shift in slightly, instinctively protecting his sensitive balls, you tap them harder.

“Open your legs for me,” you command. His legs fly apart immediately, and you smile. “Good boy. Keep them wide like that.”

Then, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking slowly. He’s rock hard, his cock twitching in your hand. It doesn’t take long before he’s edging closer and closer, his body tensing with every touch. But you don’t let him have the release he’s dying for. You build him up, only to pull him back from the edge over and over.

Twenty minutes in, he’s already a moaning, trembling mess, his body on fire from your teasing. His legs start to close, just a little, betraying his struggle to hold back. You grab the paddle this time and smack his thighs, hard.

“Spread your legs,” you snap, “or I’ll make this even harder.”

His groan is loud, almost desperate, but he obeys, his knees jerking back apart. You tilt his head back by the chin to keep him upright, and then you start playing with his nipples, flicking your knuckles over the hardened buds. He whimpers, his hips bucking helplessly.

“Poor boy,” you tease, twisting his nipples harshly. “I haven’t even started on these yet.”

You work his nipples relentlessly, twisting and tugging, pulling soft, pathetic moans from his throat. You know you could make him cum just from this alone if you wanted to.

Every time his legs twitch closed, you shove them back open, spanking him hard to remind him who’s in charge. He’s been warned multiple times.

You don’t talk much during the session; your actions are enough. The control, the power—you don’t need to rile him up with words. His body is already past the point of begging, past coherent thoughts, just reacting to your every touch.

After an hour and a half, you really need to change positions. You untie him briefly and order him to kneel on the couch, his knees spread wide. Then, you bend him over, his chest and head pressed against the cushions, his ass raised high.

With his hands still tied behind his back, the position is uncomfortable, but you know it’ll help him last longer. You wrap a cock ring around his balls without warning, and he lets out a choked groan of relief—until he feels the cold lube drizzle over his hole.

“You didn’t think I’d make this easy, did you?” you ask, your voice playful as you slide the prostate massager inside him. He shakes his head, swallowing around the gag.

His body is so tense, every jerk of his hips is unnatural, his movements erratic as he fights to hold himself back.

You barely have to do anything now. Holding his cock in both hands, you run slow circles over the sensitive head, teasing him. His body is past words now. You can’t remember the last time he managed to choke out a proper “please.” All that escapes his mouth are desperate sounds—soft “oh”s and gasps of tortured pleasure.

You listen, savoring every noise, each gasp and groan. “Such pretty noises you’re making for me... am I making you feel good?”

You stroke him firmly, up and down his length, watching as his body convulses, his breathing ragged and uneven. His hips jerk upwards as the build-up of his orgasm starts again, only to sink back down onto the couch when you stop your ministrations.

You smile. This is what people mean when they say you can play someone’s body like an instrument. Every word, every touch, every slight movement—his body responds without thought. He’s a puppet, and you’re pulling the strings.

He’s so close now, but you don’t let him cum. Not yet.

“Too bad,” you coo, “you still have some time to go.” Luckily for him, it’s only another minute and a half, but he doesn’t need to know that. You resume your slow, torturous pace, keeping him on the edge. His body is trembling uncontrollably now, every muscle tensing and releasing as if he’s barely holding on.

The room is filled with the sounds of his ragged breaths, muffled whimpers, and the soft ticking of the timer. You love every second of it—watching him strain, seeing how desperate he is to let go but knowing he can’t. Not yet.

Just as you run your fingers lightly over his sensitive cock again, the timer goes off.

The sound fills the room, but Rafe doesn’t notice at first. He’s too far gone, too overwhelmed by everything you’ve done to him. When it finally registers, a sob of relief escapes him. His whole body slumps forward, barely held up by the restraints. You smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

“You made it,” you whisper, your voice filled with praise. “So, so good, babe.”

You remove the cock ring, and with just a few firm strokes, his entire body tenses again. The moans that rip from his throat are muffled by the gag as his orgasm crashes through him like a tidal wave. You can feel every tremor, every shudder, as his body shakes uncontrollably, ropes of cum spilling from his cock as you continue stroking him through it. He’s completely, utterly ruined, just how you wanted him.

When he’s finally spent, you slowly untie his wrists, careful not to let him collapse into an awkward position. You remove the blindfold and the gag, stroking his hair softly, letting him catch his breath.

“I love seeing you like this—completely ruined, all because of me,” you say with a satisfied smile as you wipe the cum from his body with a warm cloth. He’s too exhausted to respond immediately, his breathing still labored, but he manages a small chuckle.

“My brain always clocks out about halfway through,” he admits with a breathless laugh. His voice is hoarse, and you can see the openness in his eyes. It’s one of your favorite parts, how completely vulnerable and raw he is after a session like this.

“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lie down beside him on the couch, pulling him into your arms. “And yet you made it all the way through.”

He leans into you, his body finally relaxed, spent. “I never would’ve thought I’d love this so much,” he murmurs, a hint of awe in his voice.

You kiss his forehead gently, running your fingers through his hair. "You trust me," you say softly, "and that's everything."

A few weeks ago, he might’ve been shy or embarrassed about how deeply he’s fallen into submission, but not anymore. Now, he’s comfortable. Confident. There’s no shame, no hesitation. He knows he’s completely safe with you, that you’ll always take care of him—even when you push him to his limits.

He’s quiet for a while, just resting against you as you stroke his back, giving him the aftercare he needs. It’s a peaceful moment, a contrast to the intensity of everything that just happened. You savor it, holding him close, knowing that these quiet moments are just as important as the play itself.

Eventually, he looks up at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Thank you,” he says, his voice soft but sincere. “For everything.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Always,” you reply. And you mean it.

It's my favourite time of the year...... kinktober starts today 💫

I'll be posting every other day, starting today, October 02, until October 31

Hands Free

Kinktober, October 14

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where Rafe comes without being touched for the first time.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

Rafe sits bound tightly to the chair, wrists secured behind him, his legs spread wide. The room is thick with tension—his body glistens under the dim light, a sheen of sweat covering his bare skin as he trembles in anticipation. His cock is hard, the cock ring around its base making it stand impossibly erect. The prostate massager nestled deep inside him hums faintly, stimulating him from the inside with each shift of his hips. His nipples, clamped and taut, are connected by a thin chain that also serves as a makeshift gag, forcing his mouth open around the cold metal.

You stand before him, eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as you watch his body strain under the denial of pleasure, the tension of being so close but never quite there.

"You look so good like this," you purr, running your fingers lightly over his chest, flicking one of the nipple clamps just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through him. His body jerks, a muffled groan escaping from behind the chain in his mouth.

Without warning, you press the vibrator to the head of his cock, but only for a fleeting moment before pulling it away. He moans in frustration, his hips bucking upward, desperate for more, but you keep your distance.

"You're craving it, aren't you?" you ask, your voice sweetly mocking. "You want my hands... or my mouth. But not today." You smirk as you trail your fingers down his stomach.

With a sudden, sharp slap, you spank his belly. His breath catches, a shudder running through him as the sting spreads across his skin.

"Oh, you love being spanked on your stomach, don’t you?" you ask, an evil grin spreading across your face. His head lolls to the side, and he gives you a weak, exhausted smile, nodding between ragged breaths.

"I do," he manages to say, his voice muffled by the chain in his mouth.

You smack his belly again, this time a little lower, dangerously close to his crotch. "So close to your cock, hm?" you tease. His body trembles, muscles tightening as he moans in response.

You give him no time to recover before pressing the vibrator to his cock again, holding it there just long enough to push him close to the edge—but not enough to let him fall. Then, just as quickly, you pull it away again.

"Come on, Rafe," you whisper, leaning in close so your breath tickles his ear. "You're allowed to cum. Just do it."

He groans, the sound vibrating around the gag as his body writhes in the chair, desperately trying to find release. His cock twitches, the sensation of the prostate massager deep inside him only adding to the maddening pleasure. But no matter how close he gets, you pull away every time.

"You need a little help with that?" you ask, your tone full of mockery. You lean forward, brushing your knuckles ever so lightly against the length of his cock, not enough to give him what he needs but just enough to send a jolt of sensation through him.

His eyes flutter closed, his head falling back as his breath comes in ragged gasps. "Please," he pleads around the gag, his voice hoarse and desperate.

You chuckle softly, running a single finger down the length of his cock, making it twitch involuntarily. "I can feel how badly you want it," you say, your voice low and teasing, "but that doesn't mean I'll give in."

You pull your hand away again, watching as his body jerks in frustration, the muscles in his thighs trembling from the effort of staying still. "Can you feel how close you are? I’d just have to touch you, wouldn’t I?"

Rafe’s entire body trembles, a mixture of pleasure and agony rippling through him as he teeters on the edge. His hips jerk upward, desperate for more stimulation, but you're relentless. You stand back, letting him suffer, watching as his cock pulses, so hard that it almost seems painful.

He nearly cries with frustration, the tension in his body unbearable. Every fiber of his being screams for release, but you're not giving him the satisfaction.

Then, just when you think he might break, his body stiffens. His eyes squeeze shut, and he lets out a deep, guttural moan as his orgasm rips through him. His cock pulses, untouched, and his cum spills over his stomach in hot, thick ropes. His entire body shakes with the force of it, the intensity of the orgasm so powerful that it leaves him gasping for breath.

“There you go, baby,” you purr, your voice soft and soothing now. “Good boy.”

You kneel down beside him, wiping the sweat and cum from his trembling body with a soft cloth. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, his body spent from the intensity of the hands-free orgasm you’ve just trained him to have. His eyes flutter open, hazy with the afterglow, and he looks up at you with a mixture of awe and exhaustion.

"I knew you could do it," you praise him gently, running your fingers through his damp hair. "You're such a good boy for me."

He nods weakly, his head resting back against the chair, completely drained but utterly satisfied.

He’s so pretty and perfect I want to cry 🫠🫠

Earning Privileges

Kinktober, October 06

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where Rafe gets to fuck something — spoiler: not your pussy yet.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

"You're gonna get to fuck something tonight."

Rafe stands before you, hands tied securely behind his back, a thick plug already nestled deep inside him, making him twitch with anticipation. You sit on the kitchen table, crossing your legs casually as you hold the fleshlight in front of you, the sight of it causing his cock to throb, already leaking in desperation.

"I will tell you exactly what you’re going to do. One wrong move, one thrust without my permission, and I will edge you until you’re begging—but you won’t come today. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," he breathes, the tension in his voice palpable.

"Good boy. Now, push in."

The second he slides into the fleshlight, an obscene groan tears from his throat, eyes fluttering shut at the sheer relief. "Thank you for this, Mistress," he manages between shaky breaths.

"Aw, it’s been a while since you’ve been inside a pussy, huh?" you tease, lips curving into a smirk. You know exactly how long it has been for him—because you are the one who decided it.

His expression is a delicious mix of sheepishness and banter. "You would know, Mistress."

"True," you agree, letting him savor the moment for a few beats before giving your next instruction. "Now, start slow. I want to see you fuck it, nice and steady."

Rafe obeys instantly, thrusting into the fleshlight in a rhythm so controlled and deliberate it almost makes you regret using the toy instead of your own body. You watch, mesmerized by how well he moves—every push from his hips is strong, precise, and intoxicating. Unlike most (white) men, who seem to thrust with their entire body like they have no control over themselves, Rafe has perfect control.

"A bit faster now," you instruct, and his pace increases, still maintaining that same mouth-watering precision. You fight the temptation to let him inside you right then. You have planned on training him first, making sure he is disciplined enough to earn that privilege—but this man is already perfect. Dammit. Again, you almost curse yourself for being so patient. Maybe you have to make it even more difficult for him. 

"Slower," you command, pulling yourself back into the moment. "Real slow. Come on. Even slower. There you go."

He obeys, and the sight of his cock moving into the fleshlight at a very low pace has him groaning louder, his eyes squeezing shut from the agonizing pleasure. "Faster isn’t always better, is it?" you tease, letting your free hand trail up his chest, your nails grazing his skin.

His response is a deep, guttural groan. “No, Mistress.”

"Does that feel good?" you ask, dragging your nails lightly down his torso, enjoying the shiver that runs through him.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replies, breathless.

"Does it make you feel like you’re fucking me?" Your voice is pure teasing, knowing exactly what buttons you are pushing.

"A little bit, Mistress."

"But you’re not, are you?"

"No, Mistress."

"No, because you haven’t earned that privilege yet," you remind him, your tone sharp but playful. His frustration becomes evident now, his cock throbbing harder with each passing second.

Your fingers drift down his side, pausing deliberately. “Does it feel good even with the plug?”

He swallows hard, the words catching in his throat before he answers. “Yes, Mistress,” he finally whispers. You smirk, knowing full well he loves the plug more than he wants to admit. This guy loves being full. 

"Faster again," you instruct, and you can already see him struggling to hold back, his body trembling as he fights to obey. His cock is straining, on the verge of release, but you aren’t ready to let him have that yet.

You lean closer, flicking your nails over his nipples, making him squirm. "I should’ve put some clamps on these," you muse, watching as his body responds to your touch, a moan escaping his lips. "You love having your nipples played with, don’t you?"

"I do, Mistress," he admits, his voice barely a whisper.

Without warning, you turn on the vibrations in the plug, watching as his knees buckle and his hips stutter mid-thrust. "Keep going!" you snap, your tone leaving no room for hesitation.

He tries to continue, but his body is betraying him. His rhythm falters, and you can see the desperation building in every ragged breath. "Come on, Rafe, faster!" Your voice is strict now, filled with authority.

"I’m trying," he mutters through gritted teeth, his whole body starting to tremble, his control slipping through his fingers.

"You’re not in charge here, no matter how much you want to be," you remind him, twisting his nipples hard for emphasis. "Last chance—or I’ll edge you and deny you completely. Your choice."

That is all the motivation he needs. His pace picks up again, shaky but determined, desperate to prove himself. You smile, satisfied with his response, knowing you have him exactly where you want him.

rafe i hate everyone except for you and around you i am myself and turn to mush cameron