Ok I disappeared for like 2 weeks 🤧 but tomorrow is my 14th birthday so I figured why not come up with some small shitty oneshot for y'all in literally 5 minutes 😁
Freddie knew better, was the thing. He knew better than to ignore one of Roger's orders. It was simple, too; a slight lyric change for Fun It. But Brian was distracting him, with his improvised guitar solos, and he completely forgot about the order.
"Shit, no, Roger, I didn't mean to," he cursed softly to himself, careful to avoid the mic and inadvertently confusing the crowd, as he nearly took a step towards the other lad-- whom was purposefully looking the other way, jaw clenched tight. He swallowed thickly and was subdued for the rest of concert, knowing he'd upset his Daddy.
He was right, too. Roger wouldn't acknowledge him in the ride back to the hotel, making Freddie duck his head and sit on his hands as he fidgeted restlessly. The entire car was silent, Brian and John were half-asleep leaning into each other, with Roger staring pointedly out the window. His jaw still tense and wound up, a slight tic in the corner. Freddie felt lower than a worm's belly.
~~~
When they finally slunk up to their previously decided rooms, Freddie hardly had the energy to wish the other boys a good night before he crept in after Roger and shut the door softly behind him with a final-sounding click. Immediately, he hurried forwards and nearly tripped over his own feet in the process. Freddie started apologizing.
"Daddy, I didn't mean to. I'm so, so, so sorry! It wasn't on purpose, I swear! I'm sorry, Daddy, please--"
"Quiet. You disappointed me tonight, princess. It wasn't even a difficult task. It's not like I told you to make it profanity. You were such a bad, bad boy," Roger tsked, slowly taking off his jacket and handing it to Freddie, who hurried to hang it up properly on the coat rack. Roger rolled up his sleeves next, toed off his shoes and socks, then sat on the bed, staring at Freddie. "Strip and get on your knees, Freddie," he ordered.
Freddie shuddered, quickly getting his shoes and socks off before struggling with the zip on his trousers, tugging fruitlessly for a few moments. Finally, he managed to wriggle from their grip and then pull his shirt off in one fell swoop. He paused briefly at his briefs, then quickly shimmied out of them at the look in Roger's eyes, dark and powerful. Then Freddie kneeled gracefully just a little ways in front of his Daddy.
"Go get your favorite pair of knickers and stockings, love. Put 'em on. Crawl," Roger told him next, studying his nails disinterestedly even as his burning gaze tracked Freddie's trek to the sex suitcase. Swallowing thickly, Freddie pulled out his lacy, bright pink ones, with the ruffles and bow down the sides, the matching stockings with the decoration at the thigh tops. Carefully, hyperaware of Roger's gaze on his skin, Freddie slid on the smooth silk and then pulled the stockings on up right after.
"Well, looks like you do know how to take an order, baby," Roger mocked, snapping his fingers like he was calling a pet. Freddie obediently crawled back, biting his bottom lip and staring up at his Daddy. "Something's missing," Roger decided, pulling a flower crown from another suitcase and delicately perching it in his hair, which tumbled down around his face. "There we are. What a pretty picture."
Freddie's eyes were already glossy, a shiny, bright brown color, with his cherry-red cheeks and lush, pink mouth the exact color of coral. His puffy nipples looked yummy enough to lick sugar off of, and his lean, lithe body folded beautifully together. It matched the rest of his outfit so well, his flawless skin setting off the rosy hues. What a perfect, little parcel of submission, sitting pretty on his thighs with his clasped hands tucked behind his back.
"It's almost a shame I need to punish you," Roger mentioned casually, his smile sharp and predatory, causing Freddie's breath to catch in his throat. "C'mon up, princess. Daddy's going to spank you until you remember who you belong too. Make you remember it when we're sitting in the car tomorrow, and performing onstage. Yeah, baby, you're gonna get spanked 'til you cry, 'cuz you're not sure if you want me to stop or keep going," Roger growled thickly, his hair tousled and falling out of its quiff into his face.
Freddie slowly stood and draped himself over Roger's lap, bent over his thigh and biting his lip. He waited in breathless anticipation for the first slap to land, breath expelling suddenly and noisily as it did, right across his right cheek. He swallowed his whine as another one was layered just over the first, a little harder. The third and fourth were about the same, just on the left cheek. Abruptly, a hard stroke landed on his right thigh, and he sucked in a sharp breath with a low whimper.
Biting at Roger's leg, he started to breathe heavily, deeply, and quickly, heart rabbiting along as his arse was spanked again and again and again. His bum was sore and inflamed, each smack making his body jolt forward, his cock-- thick, hard, and dribbling pre-cum-- slide between Roger's thighs roughly, the friction making him cry out. As the smacks got harder, and his arse got increasingly red and tender, he started slipping towards subspace, thoughts slowing down and narrowing to the feel of Roger's palm smacking against his bum. Feeling floaty and as if his head was full of golden clouds and syrupy smooth honey, he abruptly dropped under as Roger landed a particularly hard spank on his inner thighs.
Freddie started to cry softly, unaware of the tears trickling slowly down his pink cheeks as he stared glassily at nothing, teeth set at the rough denim seam of Roger's jeans. His breathing slowed way down and he started to mindlessly hump the area between Roger's thighs. Roger spanks slowed and then he stopped, turning into a gentle massage with soothing cream after. With a weak, hiccupy gasp, Freddie buried his face against Roger and came, cock spurting cum all over his Daddy's lap. His knickers had ridden up significantly, one of his stockings was falling down, and his flower crown sat askew on his head, but Roger thought he was even prettier than before.
"What a good, good princess. Can you get on your knees on the floor for Daddy one last time for tonight, baby?" Roger crooned, gently assisting his boy down onto the carpet. "Daddy just needs you to stay still with your mouth open, hands clasped in your lap." Freddie whimpered as he was forced to sit on his sore, throbbing bum, but made no other complaint. Roger grunted as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his erection out, aiming it directly at Freddie's tear-glazed face and luscious, inviting mouth, lips puffy and swollen from being bitten.
Within three strokes, Roger was unloading all over Freddie's face, painting his cheeks, mouth, eyes, even some of his fringe in semen. Freddie purred faintly and started licking it up as best as he could. After Roger had recovered from his orgasm, he helped Freddie get out of his knickers, stockings, and flower crown, then wiped him down with a warm flannel. Freddie mostly just stood there on shaky knees and trembly thighs, looking completely and utterly fucked-out.
They fell asleep in the bed, Freddie tucked in as the little spoon, his bum carefully not touching his Daddy since it was so very sore and red.
~~~
The next afternoon, Freddie stood in front of the mirror naked, twisting and turning to get a better look at the lovely handprints all over his arse. Even hours later, it still looked painful and sensitive, and when he lightly touched it, flinching faintly, the flesh was warm.
"Stop admiring your beautiful, delicious bum, princess, we have a concert soon," Roger reminded, fixing his hair in the loo mirror. "Oh. No pants today, and wear jeans for trousers. I want you to really feel the denim scraping against your skin."
