Chapter 2: Double Domination
The brutal slap of flesh against flesh, Leo’s harsh grunts, and Will’s fractured sobs filled the vast, cold study. Will was pinned, impaled, lost in a storm of pain from the striped fire across his ass and the relentless, deep invasion of Leo’s cock stretching him wide. Each punishing thrust sent fresh jolts of agony through his welted flesh, yet it stoked the impossible, traitorous heat coiling tighter and tighter in his gut. He was slick, his hole clenching desperately around the thick intrusion, his own cock leaking a steady stream onto the polished wood beneath him. His forehead pressed into the cool surface, tears and sweat mixing, vision blurred. He was raw, exposed, utterly consumed.
Leo drove into him with primal force, his own release building, his rhythm becoming erratic, more possessive, more punishing. His hands dug into Will’s bruised hips, fingers sure to leave dark marks. "Take it, you filthy little cocksleeve," he rasped, his voice thick with exertion and lust. "Take every fucking inch. Bet you love this, commoner trash. Bet your cheap little hole was made for noble cock."
Will could only whimper, a high, broken sound. He was teetering, the pain and the brutal pleasure a dizzying cocktail threatening to overwhelm him. His body arched, pushing instinctively back onto Leo’s thrusts, seeking more friction, more something, even as his mind screamed in humiliation.
Luke watched from his chair, a king observing his subjects, his expression carved from ice. The cold fury hadn't abated; it had merely banked, glowing hotter beneath the surface. His gaze, sharp and unyielding, tracked every tremor that wracked Will’s body, every flex of Leo’s powerful back. He saw the desperation in Will’s movements, the raw need beneath the tears. He saw Leo nearing his own precipice. And that wouldn’t do. Punishment wasn't finished. Will hadn't learned his place deeply enough yet.
Suddenly, Luke surged to his feet. The movement was swift, predatory, cutting through the humid air of the study. He crossed the distance in three long strides. His hand clamped down hard on Leo’s bare shoulder, fingers digging in like steel talons.
"Off," Luke commanded. His voice wasn't loud. It was a crack of absolute authority, colder than the marble floor. "Now."
Leo froze mid-thrust, buried deep inside Will. He tensed, a low groan escaping him, part frustration, part ingrained obedience. He didn't argue. He knew that tone. Knew the consequences of hesitation. With a final, rough grind that drew a gasp from Will, Leo pulled out, his thick, wet cock glistening. He stumbled back a step, breathing heavily, his own arousal painfully evident, his knuckles white as he gripped his shaft.
Luke didn't spare him a glance. His focus was entirely on the trembling wreck bent over his desk. Will shuddered violently at the sudden, aching emptiness, a low moan escaping his raw throat. His hole clenched spasmodically around nothing, slick and reddened. Before Will could even process the loss, Luke’s powerful hands were on him. They gripped his hips, hauling him roughly backwards off the desk. Will’s legs buckled, unable to support him, and he crashed down onto the cold, unforgiving parquet floor. He landed hard on his knees and elbows, the impact jarring his already tormented body, the welts on his ass screaming.
He barely had time to gasp before Luke was on him. The Crown Prince knelt behind him, his tailored trousers open, his thick, heavy cock already free and glistening with pre-come. There was no preamble, no gentleness. Luke grabbed Will’s hips again, fingers biting into the bruised flesh where Leo’s grip had been moments before. With one brutal, powerful thrust, he slammed himself home, sheathing his full length inside Will’s abused hole in a single, excruciating motion.
Will screamed. It was a raw, ragged sound that tore through the room. The stretch was different, deeper, more demanding than Leo’s. Luke’s cock felt larger, hotter, and the searing pain from the caning flared anew with the invasion. He was pinned to the floor, Luke’s weight forcing him down, his striped ass presented obscenely. Tears flooded his eyes, blurring the swirling patterns of the wood grain beneath his cheek. "N-no! P-please, Your Highness! H-hurts!" he sobbed, the words barely coherent.
"Silence, commoner," Luke snarled, his voice vibrating with cold fury. He withdrew almost completely, then drove back in with equal force, grinding deep. "You’ll take what your Prince gives you. Every. Fucking. Inch." He set a ruthless rhythm, deep and ponderous, each stroke deliberate, aimed to punish, to dominate, to fill the space Leo had occupied and claim it entirely for the Crown. The pain was immense, radiating through Will’s core, but beneath it, beneath the agony and the humiliation, that treacherous coil of heat tightened impossibly, threatening to snap. Luke’s cock dragged against his prostate with merciless precision, wringing choked gasps of confused pleasure from him.
Above Will, Leo watched, breathing hard, his own cock still painfully hard, glistening with the remnants of Will’s slick and his own pre-come. Frustration warred with arousal, the denied release a physical ache. He caught Luke’s icy gaze. The Prince gave a curt, almost imperceptible nod towards Will’s head.
Leo understood. A predatory gleam replaced the frustration in his dark eyes. He moved with the coiled grace of a panther, stepping over Will’s trembling body. He shoved Will’s shoulder roughly, rolling him partially onto his back. Will cried out as the movement shifted Luke’s cock deep inside him. Before Will could register the new position, Leo was straddling his chest, his muscular thighs trapping Will’s arms at his sides. Leo’s heavy, thick cock slapped against Will’s tear-streaked cheek, leaving a wet smear.
"Open wide, gutter slut," Leo growled, his voice thick with need and lingering annoyance. "You’ve got another royal duty to perform."
Will’s eyes widened in panicked understanding. He tried to turn his head, a weak protest forming on his lips. "L-Leo, w-wait—"
Leo didn’t wait. He grasped the base of his cock, guiding the swollen head to Will’s mouth. He pressed it hard against Will’s closed lips. "Open," he commanded, his tone brooking no refusal. "Or I’ll pry your common fucking jaws apart."
Trembling, overwhelmed by the brutal penetration from behind and the threat above, Will parted his lips a fraction. It was enough. Leo shoved forward, forcing the thick head past his teeth, stretching his jaw wide. Will gagged violently, tears springing anew. Leo gripped a fistful of Will’s hair, holding his head immobile, and began to thrust.
He fucked Will’s mouth with the same ruthless intensity Luke was using on his ass. Deep, forceful strokes that battered the back of his throat. Will choked, sputtering around the intrusion, saliva dripping down his chin. He couldn’t breathe properly, his nose clogged with tears and sweat. Each downward thrust from Leo forced his head back against the floor, each deep pull from Luke impaled him from behind. He was trapped, suspended between them, a conduit for their dominance and their denied rage.
Luke’s thrusts grew harder, faster, spurred by the obscene sight beneath him: his rebellious popstar husband forced to take Leo’s cock down his throat while being royally fucked. "Feel that, William?" Luke hissed, his voice strained with effort and dark pleasure. He leaned forward, bracing one hand beside Will’s head, his other hand gripping Will’s hip like a vise. "Feel the Crown claiming your worthless hole? Feel the TA silencing your vulgar mouth? This is your purpose. To serve. To be used." He punctuated his words with a particularly brutal thrust that made Will arch and cry out, the sound instantly choked off by Leo’s cock forcing deeper.
Leo groaned above him, his rhythm faltering as Will’s desperate throat spasmed around him. "Fuck, yeah… choke on it, brat," he panted, pulling almost completely out before slamming back down to the root. "Swallow that royal load like the common cumdump you are." He looked down, watching Will’s tear-filled, panicked eyes. "Bet you love this too, deep down. Bet this filthy hole," he thrust hard into Will’s mouth, "and that greedy cunt," he nodded towards where Luke was pounding, "were born to be fucked by your betters."
The dual assault was overwhelming. Pain radiated from his striped ass, conquered by Luke’s relentless cock. His throat burned, raw and stretched by Leo’s forceful invasion. Yet, the relentless stimulation, the sheer brutality of their possession, the dizzying cocktail of degradation and overwhelming sensation, pushed Will beyond reason. His cock, trapped against his belly, was achingly hard, dripping freely. The coil inside him tightened beyond bearing, vibrating with frantic energy. He was hurt, humiliated, utterly controlled, but his traitorous body was hurtling towards its own brutal climax.
Luke sensed it. He felt the desperate fluttering and clenching around his cock, saw the frantic tension coiling through Will’s muscles beneath him. "You disgraceful little whore," Luke breathed, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, piston-like. "Are you going to come? From this? From being punished like the common gutter rat you are?" He slammed home, grinding deep. "Come for your Prince, William," he commanded, his voice ragged but absolute. "Come like the cheap, used fucktoy you were born to be."
The command, the final wave of brutal sensation, shattered Will. His orgasm ripped through him with the force of a detonation. He screamed around Leo’s cock, a muffled, guttural sound of pure, agonized ecstasy. His body convulsed violently, back arching off the floor as much as Leo’s weight allowed, his cock spurting thick ropes of come across his own heaving stomach. His hole clamped down in fierce, rhythmic spasms around Luke’s buried length, trying to milk him, as his throat convulsed uncontrollably around Leo’s shaft.
The intense clenching and the raw, unrestrained sound of Will’s climax tore through Luke’s control. With a guttural groan that held no tenderness, only savage triumph, he buried himself to the hilt and pulsed deep inside Will, his hot release flooding the conquered channel. He held himself there, grinding, as the last tremors of his own orgasm subsided.
Above, the sensation of Will’s throat convulsing in orgasm and Luke’s growled command pushed Leo over the edge. "Fuck! Take it, slut! Swallow it all!" he roared, thrusting deep and holding, his cock jerking violently as he emptied himself down Will’s abused throat. Will gagged, choked, but had no choice but to swallow convulsively as hot jets filled his mouth, the salty-bitter taste overwhelming his senses.
For a moment, the only sounds were harsh breathing and the wet, messy aftermath. Luke slowly withdrew from Will’s slack, used hole with a slick sound, leaving him feeling gaping and empty. Leo pulled his softening cock from Will’s mouth with a final, wet pop, a strand of saliva and come connecting them for an instant before snapping. Both men looked down at the wreckage between them.
Will lay utterly spent on the cold floor, trembling uncontrollably. Tears streamed freely, mixing with spit and come smeared across his face and chin. His own release was cooling on his stomach. The welts on his ass throbbed dully. His throat burned. His hole ached with a deep, hollow emptiness. He felt shattered, used up, reduced to nothing more than a trembling vessel for their combined dominance and fury. The grand study, the symbol of Luke’s power, felt vast and cold around his exposed, broken form.
Luke stood, adjusting his trousers with detached precision, his expression already cooling back into its customary icy control. He looked down at Will with utter disdain, wiping his fingers on a pristine handkerchief pulled from his pocket. "Clean this mess up, Leo," he ordered, his voice devoid of all warmth, indicating Will’s trembling form with a flick of his hand. "And ensure he’s presentable before he leaves this room. I won't have common filth trailing through the halls." He turned and walked towards the door, his polished shoes clicking decisively on the parquet.
Leo, still breathing heavily, looked down at Will. His expression was complex – a flicker of something that might have been regret swiftly buried beneath a layer of rockstar arrogance and lingering frustration. He nudged Will’s side none-too-gently with his boot. "You heard His Highness, brat," he said, his voice rough but lacking its earlier fury. "Get up. Time to face the music."
Will lay broken on the cold parquet, every welt a scream, every muscle trembling. Leo’s boot-nudge jolted fresh pain through his striped ass. "Get up. Time to face the music." The rock star’s voice was sandpaper rough, devoid of its earlier snarl, but the command was clear. Will tried to push himself onto his elbows, but his arms shook violently, collapsing under him. A raw sob escaped his abused throat. He couldn’t. Everything hurt too much. "Leo… please…" he rasped, the plea thick with tears and humiliation.
"Fuck's sake, Will," Leo muttered, annoyance warring with something else in his eyes. He crouched, his ripped jeans straining, and slid strong arms under Will’s trembling body – one beneath his shoulders, the other under his ravaged thighs. Will hissed as Leo lifted him, the movement pulling at the deep ache inside him and the fire across his backside. His head lolled weakly against Leo’s chest, catching the scent of leather, sweat, and cigarettes beneath the metallic tang of his own release drying on his skin. He felt Leo’s muscles bunch, effortlessly carrying him as if he weighed nothing, moving towards the private wing.
The chill of the study corridor gave way to the humid, fragrant air of the master bathroom. Steam billowed, softening the harsh edges of the marble and gilded fixtures. Luke stood beside the massive sunken tub, his back to them, rolling up the sleeves of his dark sweater with precise, economical movements. He’d discarded his jacket. The tub was already nearly full, swirling clouds of vapor rising from water turned milky by expensive oils – something herbal and calming, maybe chamomile. Luke turned, his face an unreadable mask, but his ice-blue eyes flickered over Will’s shivering, tear-streaked form in Leo’s arms. "Set him down. Carefully," he directed Leo, his voice low, stripped of the earlier glacial fury but still holding absolute authority. He tested the water with his fingers, a gesture incongruously domestic.
Leo lowered Will gently onto the plush bathmat, steadying him as his knees threatened to buckle again. Will swayed, naked and exposed, the air cool on his striped skin. He couldn't meet Luke’s gaze, staring instead at the swirling water, the promise of warmth feeling impossibly distant. Luke finally approached, his polished shoes silent on the tile. He didn’t speak. He simply placed a large, steadying hand on Will’s upper arm. The unexpected contact, devoid of violence, made Will flinch. Luke’s other hand slid around his waist, his touch surprisingly firm yet not cruel, guiding him towards the water’s edge. "Step in," Luke murmured, the command softened almost to a suggestion. "Slowly."
The first touch of the water on his feet was scalding fire against the cold floor. Will gasped, pulling back instinctively. Leo’s hands were instantly on his hips, steadying him. "Easy, sweetheart," Leo rumbled, the unexpected endearment jarring amidst the aftermath. "Just breathe." Luke’s grip on his arm tightened slightly, anchoring him. Together, they guided Will down into the deep tub. The hot water hit the caned flesh of his ass and thighs like a brand. He cried out, arching, tears springing anew. "Fuck! It burns!"
"Hold still," Luke commanded, his voice steady. He kept a hand on Will’s shoulder, pressing him gently but firmly down as the water rose. "The sting will ease. Let it." Leo crouched beside the tub, his dark eyes watching Will’s face intently. As the water enveloped Will’s hips, the initial searing agony began to soften into a deep, penetrating heat that seeped into his battered muscles. The overwhelming fullness and throbbing ache inside him started to dull, replaced by the liquid warmth. He sagged back against the smooth marble, a shuddering breath escaping him, the tension in his spine unknotting fractionally.
Luke released his shoulder and moved to the taps, adjusting the temperature with a slight turn. He picked up a large, soft sponge. Without a word, he submerged it, squeezed it out, and brought it, dripping warm water, to Will’s chest. The gentle cascade over his skin was a shock after the violence. Will flinched again, but Luke just repeated the motion, washing away the streaks of dried tears, sweat, and his own spend from Will’s stomach with methodical, almost clinical care. His touch was impersonal, yet the sheer gentleness after what had transpired felt profoundly intimate. He moved the sponge over Will’s shoulders, down his arms, rinsing away the grime of the floor and the punishment.
Leo found a smaller cloth. He dipped it, wrung it, then carefully, so carefully, began to wipe the mess from Will’s face – the sticky trails of tears, the smear of saliva and come around his mouth and chin from the brutal facefuck. His calloused fingers, usually rough on guitar strings or gripping Will hard, were feather-light as they brushed Will’s temple, holding his head steady. "Gotta get the royal spunk off your pretty face, brat," Leo murmured, but the old nickname lacked its bite. He dabbed gently at Will’s swollen lips. "Easy now. Open a little." Will parted his lips obediently, wincing as the cloth brushed the raw, stretched corners. Leo cleaned around them with surprising delicacy, rinsing the cloth frequently in the tub water.
Luke moved lower, the sponge gliding over Will’s ribs, his waist. He avoided the fiery stripes on Will’s ass for now, focusing on the unmarked skin. The warm water swirled, carrying away the physical remnants of degradation. Will closed his eyes, the heat and the careful ministrations a balm on his shattered nerves. He felt Leo shift position, heard the soft splash as the rock star submerged his own hands in the water. Then, strong fingers, infinitely gentle, began to massage Will’s scalp, working through his sweat-dampened hair. The unexpected tenderness pulled a choked sound from Will’s throat, caught somewhere between a sob and a sigh.
"Hurts anywhere else?" Leo asked quietly, his fingers continuing their soothing circles. "Besides the obvious?" Will just shook his head minutely, unable to speak past the lump in his own sore throat. Luke, finished with Will’s torso, finally turned his attention to the worst of it. He squeezed the sponge, letting warm water cascade directly over the raised, angry welts crossing Will’s ass and thighs. Will tensed, expecting pain, but the heat was just deep, penetrating relief now. Luke didn’t touch the marks directly with the sponge; he just let the water flow over them, washing away nothing but offering simple heat. He moved to the side of the tub, kneeling on the mat, his expression still guarded but the icy contempt gone, replaced by a focused calm.
Leo scooped handfuls of water, letting it run through Will’s hair, rinsing away the last traces of gel and sweat. "There you go, sweetheart," he murmured again, the term settling strangely in the steamy air. Luke watched for another moment, the rhythmic cascade of water over Will’s back, Leo’s hands in his hair. He reached out, not with the sponge, but with his bare hand. His fingertips brushed a welt high on Will’s hip, the touch so light it was almost imperceptible. Will flinched instinctively. Luke’s hand stilled, then withdrew.
Silence stretched, filled only by the soft lap of water and the distant hum of the taps. Will kept his eyes closed, adrift in the warmth and the surreal gentleness, the brutal sting of the cane and the invasion fading into a deep, full-body ache that was somehow manageable here, surrounded by steam and their unexpected care. The humiliation still burned, but it was banked, smothered under this heavy blanket of heat and touch. Leo’s fingers traced the shell of his ear. Luke watched the water run over the marks his cane had made. The war was over. For now, there was only the quiet aftermath, the heat, and the unspoken truce held in the steam. Will took a shaky, shuddering breath, letting the water hold him, the tension slowly leaching from his bones under their silent vigil.