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the morning started bad. nothing unmanageable, and really nothing major even happened. just little mistakes that Soap made, keeping him from being able to settle into his routine. alarm not set, spilled his pre-workout all over the counter, dishwasher full of clean dishes so he couldn't put his breakfast plate away quickly, dumbass recruits asking dumbass questions, dropped a weight in the gym and narrowly missed his own foot, and finally after getting home from a very long day of nothing going quite right, and just wanting to sit on the couch and cuddle with his owner, he was asked to unload the dishwasher that he had bypassed that morning.
“oh, johnny,” simon sighs. “if you wanted to be punished, you just had to ask. i would have given you exactly what you wanted, if you had just asked.”
johnny knew he fucked up. he knew he fucked up ass soon as the snarky comment slipped out. he knew he had needed a punishment all day, he was irritable, horny, his skin felt too small for the electricity buzzing underneath. he just couldn't get the words out. so he had snapped at Sir before he could stop himself. told him to “fuck off,” and that he wasn't going to do the simple chore simon had asked him to do.
if he had just gotten up with a grumble, unloaded the dishwasher, and kneeled back at simon's feet, he could have asked to be smacked a little, maybe had his throat pounded. now? who knows what simon has in store for him.
“kneel, cunt,” simon orders. johnnys knees hit the ground so hard that simon even winces in sympathy. he preemptively drops his forehead to touch the floor in front of Sirs boots, arms linked together behind his back. “good.”
johnny shivers at the praise. it's about all he's going to get until aftercare later, so he soaks it up while he has the chance. he hears a camera shutter, a text sending sound, and the phone locking before simon's presence disappears from johnnys line of sight. he hears the closet door open and rustling from inside.
simon returns and reaches down to tug johnny up by the collar. once simon gets him standing on his own two feet, he gently presses his fist to johnnys stomach.
“ask me if this is going to hurt,” simon demands.
“is this going to hu- FUCK!” johnny yells and doubles over in pain. faster than johnny could recognize, simon has punched him square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of the younger man.
“oh baby, you have no idea how much this is gonna hurt,” simon chuckles darkly at him.
johnny is still gasping for breath when simon grabs him by the neck to block his airway. he grabs the arm depriving him of oxygen weakly. his vision is getting tunnel like, and he can't make his eyes focus. it's dark, and his heart is pounding and his pussy pulses as he cums untouched.
he wakes up crumpled on the floor at Sir’s feet. disoriented, sore, hornier than he's ever been in his life. simon must have just dropped him when he passed out cause he's sprawled on his back and his head aches where it hit the ground.
“oh sleeping beauty finally woke up then?” simon's cruel voice comes from above. the larger man drops down to sit on johnnys naked chest, making it hard to breathe. “i think this whole ‘keeping you and kyle naked all the time’ this has been the best thing price and i could have done.”
he grabs johnny by the mohawk and shakes his head around a few times before slamming it into the ground twice. johnny moans in pain and arousal, hips twitching into the air, pussy gushing slick, clit hard and twitching.
“you're so fucked up johnny, do you have any idea? you're just a dumb little slut, eager to get a beating even if no one touches that gross little gash.” simon laughs as johnny moans. “you like being humiliated, you love being stupid and submissive.”
johnny nods, whining high in his chest, words leaving his brain with the aftershocks of pain. his eyes unfocus, and his mouth hangs open, tongue out, silently begging simon to spit down his throat.
“you better shut that mouth johnny, or i'm gonna make you drink my piss.”
johnnys mouth opens wider, begging with his eyes.
“oh, you would like that, you fucking slag,” simon sneers. he makes a disgusting sound, clearing the mucus from his throat, and spits the wad right into johnny’s mouth. johnny pulls his tongue back in and savors the spit. it's got that strong cigarette flavor that always clings to his owner.
“open,” simon demands, pulling his cock out. “open your mouth i'm going to piss down your fucking throat.”
johnnys mouth drops open with an “ah-” sound before simon's cock bullies its way in and past johnnys gag reflex.
“here you go, faggot, just for you,” and simon's diet of mostly meat and energy drinks and tea makes his piss so acrid, but johnny gulps it all down anyways. he'd drink it out of a glass to savor every sip of simon told him to.
his pussy is constantly leaking now. wet trails that reach his knees. and price had recently started paying to get johnny and kyle waxed and keep them hairless, so it was extra slippery and the glide of simon's knuckles over his cunt had him shaking like a new born deer.
which is why he was so surprised when the gentle feelings stopped everywhere and the taser made pain explode all over his body. he screamed, trying to scoot away from the sensation pressing into his hip.
he heard a dark laugh and a muffled voice that he just couldn't make out through the ringing in his ears. the taser finally stopped and he felt the prongs drag across his skin to right above where his left ovary should be. he whined loudly, chanting “nononononono-” before the taser dug in and went off. he screamed and tried to bolt upright, simon's cock falling out of his mouth.
he's pushed back down by a new pair of hands, and he looks up with fuzzy eyes to see price above him, and the taser shuts off again. simon crawls back down johnnys body.
“oh baby, what did you do to Sir to deserve this?” price asks.
“d-daddy,” soap whines, eyes full of tears.
“oh love, your little crocodile tears won't work on daddy,” price starts. “if sir decides this is the punishment you need, then it must be.”
the taser hits johnnys other ovary then, leaving the boy squirming and crying. price’s pussy appears in johnny’s vision and the boy surges up to get his mouth on it, muffling his pathetic sounds. the taser finally stops
simon's voice sounds so far away when he asks, “johnny, color?”
“green, god green more please,” johnny begs into price’s pussy.
“simon, that's so mean,” price says mockingly. johnny makes a little inquisitive noise under his captain, not knowing what's going on. “do it, i wanna see the little slag dance.”
the taser shoots bolts of electric, white hot pain down johnnys clit. he screams and scrambles to get away from simon, but price’s body weight on johnnys head keeps him pinned in place. simon fucks the taser up and down johnnys clit a few times, then clicks it on and off again few more. each time a new surge of electricity makes johnny sob and over stimulated. his vision darkens in the corners and his jaw aches from eating price out.
simon takes the taser away from johnny's clit to hit his asshole and taint. he screams and arches away from the contact, he can't take it. simon keeps electrocuting the same spot in little staccato bursts. when simon finally stops, johnny can't uncross his eyes. he was about to cum from that stimulation. he probably looks stupid, twitching from the shocks and half suffocated under price.
suddenly the taser is back on his clit, and its seemingly more painful than the first time, because johnnys vision white out in pain. he can't even scream anymore, it hurts so bad all he can do it's take it.
“you suffer so prettily, love,” john croons as johnnys legs still.
“he pissed,” simon notes.
johnnys face flushes hot and red. he pissed? he lost control of his bladder and pissed all over sir and the floor and himself.
“get my asshole too baby,” price reminds johnny. johnny whines and moves his head to licks price’s hairy asshole. daddy's smell is so strong underneath him. the cigar smell, his body odor and sweat from running drills this morning, the smell of his cunt and the musk that lingers in his pubes. daddy’s gruff voice moaning and growling whenever johnny does something right makes the boy feel like he's going to crack into a million pieces. price cums quickly, but lingers over soaps face, knowing the boys loves having the smell and sight nearby when he comes.
simon's fingers bully their way inside johnny's pussy and he cums immediately. it HURTS and he screams for a long second, back arched, both doms coaxing him through it with sweet praises and gentle hands. price climbs off of johnny and scoops the poor boy into his arms. simon crowds up behind him so johnny is completely surrounded by his owners, so it's all he can smell and think and feel and see.
when johnny come back down to earth, he's still crying, and he's only being held by one pair of arms.
“you awake?” kyle's concerned voice like an anchor for johnny to hold on to. “johnnybaby?”
“i'm up,” johnny mumbles into kyle's pecs. “i'm not moving tho.”
“not for a while, no,” kyle tilts johnny head back to make eye contact. “that was pretty intense.”
“i needed it,” johnny shrugged.
“sir said you were being… difficult this morning,” kyle said, clearly hedging for more. “what's going on?”
“everything was off,” johnny sighed. “nothing went right this morning. skin- my skin felt too tight.”
“right.”
“i know that doesn't make sense. i haven't felt this off in a long time, i just needed something that would make me feel real again.”
“why didn't you just ask for help?”
“i didn't have the words,” johnny sighed. “honestly if sir hadn't taken me down right then i probably would have done something self destructive and stupid.”
“and you're better now?”
“much.”
the door opens softly. kyle looks up and smiles at whoever came in. “he’s okay.”
“good. gave us quite the scare, sweetness,” price says as he leans down to kiss the side of johnnys head.
“where's simon?”
“cleaning up, you made quite the little mess in the front room,” price chuckled. “do you want me to get him?”
“please?”
“of course love,” price scrubbed a hand across johnny's mohawk, but the door opens before anyone can make a move.
“sir-” johnny starts, meaning to apologize, but he's cut off before the older man can get a word out. simon picks him up off the bed like he's weightless, and johnny's legs wrap automatically around his waist.
“you did so good sweet boy,” simon rumbles. he's pressing repeated kisses to the sides of johnny’s head. “please just ask next time, i can't read your mind. i want to help you, especially when you're struggling.”
“i know,” johnny sobs, “im sorry sir, i didn't know how to say it.”
kyle and price get up to join in on the hug, holding a very fragile johnny together as he cries.
when he finally simmers down a few hours later, in bed, surrounded by his lovers while they watch some mindless tv, simon kisses the side of his head and murmurs, “this didn't get you out of dishes, you know.”