"P-please." The plea slipped past his lips, along with the drool that trailed to his chin. His face stained a deep red along his cheeks, and that smug expression of his melted into something indescribable. Wanton? Desperate? His mouth fell open with a sharp inhale, and he panted as he watched you through watering, droopy eyes.
Needy, that's what he was.
"Please what?" you chided, and he gasped when you struck his ass with a pop that echoed off your barren apartment walls. His wings tensed at the sting and scrunched up at his sides. Those golden eyes clamped closed in anticipation of another spank.
"Please what? Mommy won't press your cock into your favorite toy unless you use your words," you stressed. This earned you a string of indecipherable babble, and his thighs twitched. You'd hardly begun, and he was falling apart in your hands. "Come on, Keigo. Don't you wanna be my good little boy for me?"
"Yes!"
He recoiled at his obvious overzealousness, as if being desperate for your approval was more humiliating than being stripped bare and spread open before you. His wet tongue dragged along his lips, which were plump and swollen from the bites you'd subjected them to.
"Y-yes, please, Mama. Please make me feel good. I need it really bad."
The pride he was known for dissolved beneath your expectant gaze. Pop! Again, you struck him across the ass with your open palm. He lost touch with language. Broken half-sentences fell out of him.
"Was that so hard, little angel? God, just look at you."
Your hands trailed down his trembling inner thighs until they reached the base of his cock. His head lifted from the mattress. The darkness of his pupils consumed his iris as he observed, breath bated. You finally wrapped a hand around his dick and squeezed tight. He whimpered.
"I gotta make you all wet before you get your toy."
There was another pop. He flinched at the sound, but this time it wasn't a palm against his skin. It was the lid of a lubricant bottle. A gooey mess blurted from its mouth and dribbled along the length of his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath and his toes curled tightly together. Poor thing didn't like the shock of the cool jelly, but he hummed when your jerking palms spread and warmed it against his hot shaft.
His hips pumped up off the mattress to spear into the wet cavern your cupped hands made. The most pitiful cries spilled out of him, and, even though he was being a very bad boy, you watched with fascination as the tip of his twitching cock thrusted between your joined fists. The urge to climb onto him and impale yourself almost overwhelmed you, but he had to do more before you gave him such an honor. You let go, and the most pathetic cry bubbled out of him at the loss of friction. His hips kept pumping his swollen cock into empty space, and your pussy slickened at the sight.
Pop! This one was especially hard. The faint print of your palm bloomed pink against the meat of his ass, and he cried at the sudden shock of it.
"That's very bad. You don't take what isn't given to you," you scolded, and he sank into the mattress in shame.
"I'm sorry, Mama. It just felt so good. I'm sorry," he whimpered. Tears budded against the striking black marks that framed his eyes. A wing unfurled from his side, and he tried to hide his red face beneath the edge. It always baffled you how he became so small. "I just want to be good."
He was deep into a vulnerable headspace. You had the urge to degrade and punish for his transgression, but—as you learned during earlier sessions—being too mean to your little bird could make him sob out the stopping word. To witness the rambunctious number two hero fall to pieces in your hands was jarring. It was even more so to know your words alone had that kind of power over him.
