Work Text:
Hannibal had gotten Twitter for work reasons.
He understood the necessity for social media and while he found most of the content on the website to be drivel, he did follow many news sites and art pages that filled his dashboard with a passably interesting variety of posts.
He followed back other business accounts, refused on ethical grounds to follow his clients, though he could do nothing to stop them following him, and generally spent less than half an hour on the site a day, if that.
Until one evening when he couldn’t get to sleep, and his tablet was in his hand, and for some reason instead of seeking out the sordid bad journalism of TattleCrime, he opened up Twitter instead. A few moments of scrolling, and a Tweet came up from an account Hannibal did not follow. It had been, according to Twitter’s helpful suggestion above the Tweet itself, retweeted by one of the art accounts he was subscribed to.
Despite his better judgement, Hannibal watched the video embedded in the Tweet, of a pert little bottom bouncing up and down on screen. It was barely covered by a lacy white thong, and sat upon white thigh-high-stocking-covered toes. Hannibal was mesmerized, as small hands reached back to spread the cheeks, to jiggle them, to adjust the panties when the lace folded up a little from the movement. And then the person on screen knelt up and Hannibal realized that it wasn’t a young woman, but a young man in the video.
The thong barely contained his balls and little cock, and after a few more seconds of enthusiastic bouncing, the boy slid his panties aside and fingered himself, just a teasing, dry rub against his pink hole, before adjusting his panties to let his cock fall free.
Hannibal’s mouth went dry, then suddenly flooded with saliva as he watched the young thing thrust into the air, legs spread wide, and weight resting on outstretched hands. He couldn’t see the boy’s face, but what he could see was entirely hairless. A product of a meticulous grooming regimen rather than age; his genitals of a size to suggest very late teens or early twenties. When the video ended Hannibal felt like he’d been slapped in the face. He pressed on it to watch it again.
It was very late, or very early, and Hannibal could not take his eyes off the lovely thing fondling himself on his tablet screen. Perhaps he was overwhelmed, or too tired to consider his actions, but Hannibal pressed the little ‘like’ button beneath the video before closing the website down.
His dreams were filled with tempting little waifs just out of reach, and Hannibal woke hard.
The day was unremarkable. Hannibal went to work, he saw his clients, he transcribed his recorded sessions. He returned home and made himself dinner, taking his time to take the nose of a wine he’d been recommended the week earlier, before letting it breathe. He ate to the sound of Mozart over the speakers, and retired to bed at his usual time.
Only then did he take up his tablet to browse through his social media. And only then did he realize his mistake from the night before.
There was a new private message in his inbox, and when Hannibal opened it he saw it was from the account of the gorgeous boy he’d been watching. Hannibal panicked. Perhaps it had been a trap? Something to lure men in online before reporting them for harassment or deviance. Maybe it was extortion? Now he wanted money to keep his silence and not call authorities on Hannibal. Nervous, and his mind working him up more and more with terrible scenarios, Hannibal opened the message.
“Thanks for the like, Daddy!
I’ll give you a lap dance any time.
Xoxo”
Hannibal’s first thought was that the boy sent such messages to everyone who liked his videos, but a quick glance at the steadily-climbing number (well into the thousands by now) told Hannibal it was unlikely.
Which left intentional flirtation. Hannibal did have a picture of himself in his profile, ill-advised as it was, but even without seeing the boy’s face he was certain he was at least twice his age. Surely a boy with a body like that had his pick of men his own age.
He had called Hannibal ‘Daddy…’
Perhaps it was a money thing. After doing a little digging, Hannibal found that the boy offered private videos for paying ‘fans.’ Perfectly understandable; if people were willing to pay, why shouldn’t the boy profit? And there was nothing wrong with advertising.
It took a few minutes for Hannibal to admit to himself that he wanted to pay. He was curious about what more there could possibly be. And if it meant a pretty little thing flirted with him, well… however much Hannibal thought himself above it all, he was only human.
It was an excellent performance, he found himself typing. I’ll be following for more.
And then he promptly put it out of his mind, until morning when he checked his tablet to find a new message.
I made you something special. Call it a ‘preview.’ No one gets to see it but you.
Along with the message was a download link to a file labeled “Daddy’s Treat.” Hannibal hovered over the page, reluctant. This was how all the stories about malware always started.
With a hum, he went into the settings for his tablet, checking that his firewall was up to date, that he had measures in place to identify and track any sort of virus that could come from such a tempting, sinful place as a pretty boy stripping on the internet for cash. Because he was curious. He was ravenous, if he were to admit it to himself, to see more. And this wasn’t one of the clips the boy had posted on his page, he was certain. At least not yet. And every man liked to have his ego stroked.
He downloaded the video.
It was thirty seconds long, and started with a freeze frame of the boy’s bare bottom, black socks high up his thighs, starkly contrasting against his pale skin.
Hannibal pressed ‘play’.
There was no sound, or if there was it was ambient noise of the boy’s room. No music, no commentary. Hannibal watched as the boy wiggled his ass for the camera before bringing his hand down against it with a playful spank. Hannibal’s cock pushed up painfully against his underwear that was suddenly very restrictive. Then, the boy turned.
His cock and balls were shaved bare, and he was half-hard. A pair of panties were bunched down just above his stockings and just behind his ballsack. He turned back and forth for the camera, his little cock swinging obscenely with the motion, before he took himself in hand for a quick stroke. He had such delicate hands, this boy, clean nails, long fingers. He curled them expertly around himself before letting go, and working his panties back up his thighs to hide his cock again.
Not that they offered much in obscuring the shape of his beauty; Hannibal could clearly see his cock and balls outlined behind the lace.
When the boy settled the lingerie against his skin, he pressed his knees together in a play of innocence, and gently wiggled his fingers for the camera in a semblance of a wave.
The video ended.
Hannibal had never wanted so badly to touch someone. All that smooth skin on display, tucked into lace and silk.
Hannibal pushed play again, reaching for his belt.
The boy had captivated him. Once his needs had been met, Hannibal navigated to the boy’s page. He had his subscriber-only page, but also a wishlist and a donation button. After only a moment of thought, Hannibal typed a tidy sum into the donation box.
A tribute for your efforts, he told the boy. And I’ve subscribed for future content. Do you have a name I can call you, since you’ve chosen one for me?
Several miles away in his little apartment, 18-year-old Will Graham gaped at his screen.
A tribute.
A tribute .
This man’s idea of a tip was three hundred dollars. For a thirty second video Will had sent him for free, unprompted.
With shaking hands, he wrote back.
Daddy, I think you made a typo. I can send some back if you need it.
Everyone always calls me Baby.
He chewed the side of his thumb nervously as he watched the three dots move in the chat window, suggesting the man was typing back. Surely he couldn’t have gotten himself a sugar daddy that easily, he’d been on the internet selling little videos like this for months now to help save up for college, and he’d only ever gotten creeps and freaks, which came with the territory.
This was something new.
I’m not everyone.
Will swallowed, blushing, and considered his options. Online, he went by his screen name Fembaby and never used his name. Even for private videos he kept his face out of camera and tried to keep his vocalizations to a minimum. It wasn’t that he had a particularly recognizable accent, he just really didn’t need this biting him in the ass as he studied to apply for the police academy.
But this man, with his ‘tributes’ and sweet talking, and his goddamn photo that had haunted Will’s mind for days, he was something else.
No , Will agreed, typing quickly. You’re my very own, aren’t you?
Presumptuous boy.
Yes, Daddy.
Tell me what to call you, naughty thing.
Why?
Because Daddy said so.
Will groaned, rubbing a hand down between his legs, doing little to keep his erection down. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to so desperately that Will forced himself to stand up and walk away for a moment, getting a glass of water and quite literally cooling himself down. When he sat at his computer again, there was another message, and a link to a soundbyte.
Will swallowed, clicking on it.
“I want to know what to call my boy when I praise and punish him,” the recorded voice was low, accented, foreign, and Will moaned . “If he’s to be entirely my own.”
They would have to negotiate. Will couldn’t give up his twitter, not unless the man intended to fund everything. And even then, he needed to keep a good subscriber base for when everything went to shit and the man got bored.
But he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. That face and that voice, the accent. The suit. He was Will’s wet dreams come to life, the sort of man he thought about when he rode a toy into the mattress or spanked himself with a hairbrush.
Will , he typed quickly, before he could stop himself. It was so very, very stupid, but so was everything Will did with this channel. My name is Will.
Hannibal, the man wrote back, but you already know what you’re to call me.
Yes, Daddy.
Hannibal, as it turned out, was easy to please. He didn’t hold the money over Will’s head. He didn’t even make demands, though with what he tipped Will for every little preview, he could have.
He followed Will’s paid account. He wrote to Will every day. And he gave Will a tribute for the next two personal videos he made, both of which matched the size of the first one.
You know, Daddy, you could make a request , Will wrote one day.
Of course. Because you’re my good boy, aren’t you?
Always, Daddy.
What toys do you have to play with?
Will bit his lip, flushing. He spilled his meager bag across the bed, snapping a picture for Hannibal.
Not much, Daddy. I’ve only ever played by myself
Some lube, a cheap little vibrator that once had different speed settings til the dial broke and now worked only on the lowest, a thick silicone dildo that Will used in his paid videos. He’d eyed up some very expensive things, of course, late at night after a satisfying orgasm and a few welcome donations, but he never bought anything. They were entirely out of his price range, and it wasn’t as though Will was going to make this his career.
Toys were toys. They didn’t matter.
Hannibal, it seemed, did not agree.
Sweet boy. Let Daddy spoil you. I can’t abide seeing this and knowing how unsatisfied you are.
Will’s breath stuttered, and he chewed his lip, considering. He had enough from Hannibal’s donations to buy some of the things on his multiple wishlists, but he also needed to pay rent, and study, and pay application fees for college.
What would you get me?
Many things.
Pretty things?
Only the best for my sweet Will.
Will laughed, shaking his head, and squirmed in his seat. He never did get over being called that by someone like Hannibal. He had looked him up, of course, the man was using his goddamn business account to chat Will up on Twitter, and he was extraordinarily handsome. Will had looked up the address for his office and closed the window so many times that he knew it by heart now.
He’d never go over there, of course. But the thought that he could, the mental image of Hannibal’s office when Will jerked himself off thinking about him…
He tossed a couple of his wishlists into the chat box and he and Hannibal talked a little while longer before Will was sent to bed with the request to send Daddy something naughty before he slept.
Will slipped on one of his tartan skirts, tugged up his stockings, and removed his panties, laying back in bed to send Hannibal a picture of himself with one of his knees drawn up, just a tease of what was beneath his skirt visible.
Will couldn’t believe it when the very next day toys started arriving in goddamn droves to his apartment door.
Another typo? He asked, staring helplessly at the boxes scattered atop his bed.
Open them, sweetheart. Pick one to play with for Daddy.
It was too much, far too much. A black silicone masturbator for him to fuck, one that would cling so soft and so snug to his cock. A cock ring to vibrate and keep him hard. Not one, but two plugs in differing shapes, both with vibration settings.
He wanted everything. But he also wanted to stretch out this thing they were building between them, this tension that made them both shiver.
The video arrived in Hannibal’s inbox an hour later. His sweet boy, in thigh-high socks and absolutely nothing else, cock ring snug around his little cock and heavy balls. He straddled a pillow, rolling his hips forward.
Will was generally quiet, but today he made soft, breathy little gasps, a bead of clear fluid building up at the tip of his cock.
He didn’t make himself come, just rutted against the pillow until his cock was red and his gasps were beginning to strain.
Along with the video, he’d merely typed Can I, Daddy? Pretty please?
His answer came in another soundbyte, and Will bit his lip, putting his headphones in as he kept his other little camera rolling, focused on his cock.
“Oh, you’re just dripping for Daddy aren’t you sweetheart?”
Will’s cock twitched so hard up against his stomach he was dizzy with it. He whimpered and bit against his knuckle, still allowing his pleased little sounds to escape but making sure he didn’t say anything as they did.
“Look at that pretty little cock. You’re so close, aren’t you, Will? So close. And that ring feels so good, doesn’t it, sweet boy? Teasing you like Daddy would if I were there. Pressing just enough, thumbing over that wet little cockhead to get you whimpering for me. Can you do that, Will?”
He did, oh he did. Loud and helpless as Will’s hand took over playing out the things Hannibal was narrating. He was so damn close, now, his thighs were shaking. He didn’t even need to rut against the pillow anymore, his hand and Hannibal’s words were enough on their own.
“Just like that,” as though he’d heard, as though he was right there with Will… “Just like that, Will. Now come for Daddy, let Daddy see what a mess his boy will make for him.”
Will didn’t need to be told twice. In fact, he barely held out before his body gave in on its own, pulling Will along for the ride. He came hard, over his palm, over the pillow, his cock twitching still as he panted to catch his breath after. Unthinking, he brought his hand to his lips to suck his fingers clean. The camera didn’t show higher than Will’s chest, but it didn’t matter.
He sent the video back as soon as he could think straight enough to get it off his camera. He added another note: thank you, Daddy.
After that, Will made at least one special video for his Daddy a day, alongside the others he posted on his twitter and paid site. He started using some toys in those videos too, because Daddy told him he could, and found that his viewership really picked up.
For the first time since he’d started this entire thing, he didn’t care.
All he cared about was getting a message from Hannibal every morning, telling his boy to get out of bed, and sending him a sleepy morning picture of his half-hard cock tenting his panties in return.
Hannibal knew Will’s schedule, though not what he studied, and sometimes if there was time he’d tell Will to masturbate for him, and send him another picture at the end.
Once or twice, he told Will to do it, but not to come. Those days had been difficult, Will’s cock aching and desperate. They’d also been wonderful.
Any requests, Daddy?
Show me your pretty little hole.
Sometimes, Will imagined it, the fabric of those suits pressed against him, Hannibal fucking him roughly, a hand on the back of Will’s neck to hold him down. Will would make so many sounds, so desperate and eager.
He fingered himself until he was gaping, then snapped Hannibal a picture of his ass with his panties pulled to the side. I was thinking I’d ride my dildo for Daddy today.
Hannibal’s answer made Will freeze. Could I watch it live? I’ll give you my Skype name.
It seemed irrational that Will refused video calls when he earned his goddamn rent by posting videos of himself online. But those were on his terms, he recorded them in advance and posted them for content, he could get feedback on them, but not while he was playing with himself. That had always felt like just a step too far, just a step too close to actual prostitution or camwork.
Not that Will judged, but that wasn’t what he did .
And now Hannibal was asking to see Will, to put a face to his body, to break that wall between the two of them that had been safely keeping them apart since this whole thing began.
Will watched the cursor on his chat window blink, watched the time Hannibal’s message arrived change from several seconds to minutes, and still he didn’t write back; he didn’t know what to say. What was he so scared of? Would it really be pushing such a boundary, considering what he sent to Hannibal already?
Will didn’t want to appear inadequate, he didn’t want to be abandoned as soon as Hannibal saw him properly, and realized that beyond his beautiful body, Will was a nerdy college student, with bags under his eyes, who drank too much coffee. He wasn’t a waif, a magical being, like he appeared on camera.
He…
He didn’t want this to be over because of that.
In the end it was Hannibal who wrote back first, asking gently if Will was alright, if he had pushed too hard, apologizing if he had. Will felt strangely warmed by the idea that he was genuinely apologetic, it eased the lump in his throat somewhat.
Will I get to see Daddy too?
Of course, baby boy. However you like.
They arranged a time for the following evening, when Hannibal would be home from work and Will would be well into his evening recordings for his website. It would be dark, curtains closed, private. Will was still nervous but the closer time crawled to the call, the more confident he started to feel.
He could do this.
This was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
Will dressed in a black lace lingerie set, garter belt with stockings, panties that barely hid his cock in the front and were semi-transparent at the back to show the crack of his ass, and a little lace choker around his throat.
He’d been desperate enough to consider buying makeup, a little bit of concealer for the bags under his eyes. He’d never worn makeup before, though, and he had no desire to look like a clown. He did put something thick and uncomfortably wet in his hair though, trying to make his curls look a bit more like curls and a bit less like frizz.
The little jingle that played when connecting a Skype call made Will’s heart pound and his stomach churn. He nearly slammed his laptop shut before they connected.
And then… there he was. In a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, his hands so big and perfect for cupping Will’s ass and spanking him raw.
“Oh,” Will whispered, breathless when those warm brown eyes landed on him. “Hi, Daddy.”
Hannibal smiled, his teeth like fangs, dangerous in the most pleasant of ways. Will’s little cock pushed at the waistband of his tiny panties.
“Hello, Will. You look beautiful.”
Will flushed all the way down his chest, reaching up to toy with his choker. It was just like typing, he told himself, except now he could see the way Hannibal smiled. And maybe his cock, if he was lucky.
“I wanted to look nice for Daddy,” he offered shyly.
Hannibal blinked, a languid and lazy thing that brought to mind a large wild cat in the sun. Will bit his lip and ducked his head. He felt like he was facing a high school crush, and was dealing with it just as poorly as he had in high school.
“You do, sweetheart,” Hannibal assured him. “Daddy can’t take his eyes off you.”
Will grinned, far too pleased and unable to hide it. He tugged his hair nervously and sat back so Hannibal could take a proper look at him all dressed up. He’d considered keeping his face out of frame, like he did in his videos, but was happy he decided against it. Hannibal was looking at him with such intensity, such genuine desire, that Will felt goosebumps come up on his skin. He licked his lips.
“You’ve spoiled me with so many toys, Daddy,” Will told him, drawing up a knee and leaving his other leg curled up beneath him. “I’ve been thinking about you every time I played with them.”
“Good,” Hannibal replied, and Will squeaked happily. Hannibal’s smile grew by a degree, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled with it. “I’ve been thinking of my good boy, too. Every night before bed. Sometimes at work, because you’re very distracting, Will.”
“I’m sorry,” Will grinned. Hannibal clicked his tongue. Will reached out of frame for the dildo - a new one that Hannibal had gotten him, not one he’d played with before; it was brightly colored and oddly shaped, and Will still found himself blushing at the fact that Hannibal had gone on Bad Dragon to get it for him. He’d prepared himself earlier, so that they could just get right into it, but he found himself wanting to drag the show out a little.
“Are you, terrible thing?”
Will shook his head, tracing the toy over his cock, eyes on Hannibal. He watched the man swallow thickly and blink to look up at Will again.
“Do you know what I would do if I were there right now, Will?”
Will shook his head again, harder, his curls falling in his face. He felt giddy. “What, Daddy?”
“I would bend you over my knee,” Hannibal told him, watching how the words affected Will, the way he squirmed and blushed deeply at the thought. “And tug those naughty panties down, and give you a proper hard spanking for distracting Daddy at work.”
Will licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Such a mean Daddy,” he whispered.
“Your skin is so pale. I’m sure you turn a lovely shade of pink.”
Will’s face turned the exact shade Hannibal was no doubt imagining. He leaned back, showing off his flat stomach, the bulge of his cock in his panties.
“Perhaps,” Hannibal said slowly, “I should punish you anyway. Such a naughty little thing will get out of hand without regular discipline.”
Hannibal had “punished” him before, usually by restricting his orgasms, but Will sensed something new was coming, and he was eager for it.
“Go get your hairbrush, sweetheart, and a pillow to drape yourself over.”
Will moaned softly. “Yes, Daddy.”
Will left the dildo in plain sight on his bed as he climbed out of it, padding away to get what Hannibal asked for. Will had posted the occasional spanking preview, but rarely hit himself hard enough in those few seconds to do more than tease and suggest, and few men usually asked him for a video like that, more interested in seeing his cock twitch as he came, or his ass taking toys deep into it.
He had played with himself more roughly without the aid of a camera though, and he knew how effective a hairbrush spanking was; both for getting him off and for how pretty it looked after.
Will returned, he had one of the large pillows from his bed he’d removed for the video call and the brush Hannibal had asked for. For a moment he stood beside the bed, just one knee on it, and let Hannibal take him in, then he set the pillow to the center of the bed and bent to work a comfortable divot into the middle of it for himself.
He knew Hannibal had a lovely view of his ass as he did.
“What now, Daddy?” he asked, giving Hannibal a pleased look. The man hummed and leaned back in his seat, one large hand resting on the table, still, the other up to his mouth, gently stroking his upper lip.
“Bend over, sweet boy, and spread your legs. Let Daddy see you properly.”
Will obeyed, with another happy little moan. He squirmed about until he lay just as he wanted to; so that the screen was filled mostly by his pantied ass, but he could still look over his shoulder for Hannibal to see his face, if he wanted. He crossed his stockinged ankles but spread his knees, giving Hannibal a peek at his hole through the translucent material.
Hannibal groaned, a low, deep, pleased sound that went right to Will’s cock. “Beautiful boy,” he praised. “But so naughty. What’s to be done about that?”
Will gave a little wriggle, knowing full well what his ass looked like when he did. The sharp intake of breath from the computer only proved it.
“I need to be punished, Daddy,” Will said, purposefully pitching his voice ever so slightly higher.
“Terrible thing,” Hannibal said with a soft laugh that went right through Will, warming him from the inside out. “Leave your panties on, but pull them up so I can make sure you’re doing it right.”
It would be uncomfortable, but in the best way. Will reached behind himself to slowly pull the fabric up, revealing the pale globes of his ass, just ripe to be bruised.
Will had never had another person spank him before, but he’d imagined it. Especially after Hannibal. He imagined that it would feel much the same, but better, with a warm hand to tease and torment him in equal turns.
On his little display, Will could see that the panties perfectly cupped his heavy balls, showing them off even from behind. He bit his lip.
“I want you to alternate sides,” Hannibal told him. “Start slow, but don’t stop until you’re told to.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Will mumbled, taking up the brush and rubbing it slowly over one cheek. The anticipation was electric, he could hear Hannibal’s breathing behind him, and couldn’t look, he couldn’t , when he drew back his hand and brought the brush down hard.
The sound was sharp, and it hurt , and Will squeaked in the most embarrassing way.
Behind him, Hannibal’s breath caught. Will licked his lips and brought the brush down again, against his other cheek this time.
For a few more swats, neither spoke; Will whimpered as the spanking started to hurt, and Hannibal was quiet behind him beyond the harsh breathing Will could hear between the slap of skin on skin. After a while, Will looked over his shoulder and nearly dropped the brush.
Hannibal was devouring him with his eyes, one hand down beneath the table, and Will was certain he knew what he was doing. His other was curled into a fist on the desk. Will whined, toes curling, and arched his back a little more, catching Hannibal’s eyes when they flicked up to him.
“I didn’t tell you to stop, naughty thing,” Hannibal told him. Will shook his head with a grin and turned aside again, resuming his own punishment.
He was hard, so hard, in his panties, and the thought that Hannibal was watching him, enjoying this, was bringing Will closer and closer to his own release. He’d never come just from a spanking before. He never thought he could. And yet -
“Daddy -”
“Yes?” Hannibal’s voice was strained, rough. Will moaned, he couldn’t help it.
“It hurts.”
“As it should.”
“And I’m close,” Will sighed, looking over his shoulder again. “Can I come for you, Daddy?”
Hannibal's smile made Will ache, his cock leaking a smear of fluid against the pillow.
“So naughty today, sweetheart. This is meant to be a punishment. What should I do, when my sweet boy is focused more on his pleasure than learning his lesson?”
“You should let him come,” Will sassed, pushing up onto his toes and wriggling his hips.
“Not yet.”
Will groaned, ducking his head against the sheets.
“Three more on each side, and then you should show Daddy how much you like your new toy.”
Will grinned, turning to look at Hannibal again. “Will you count ‘em Daddy?”
“No, I think you will.”
Will wriggled again, the answer exactly the one he’d been hoping for, and settled into position again. He counted every swat loud enough for Hannibal to hear, his voice pulling tight and needy the closer he got to the end. When he was done, his ass burned with pain, and he knew he’d bruise the next morning. He’d never played this hard with himself before but playing with Hannibal was the hottest thing he’d ever done.
“Sweet boy,” Hannibal’s voice rolled over Will, making him shiver. “You’re quite red aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Rub over that skin for Daddy, such a good boy taking his spanking. But we both know that won’t be enough, will it?”
Will laughed, helpless to it, and brought a hand back to rub over the hot skin in gentle circles. He shook his head, watching Hannibal as Hannibal watched him. After a few moments he turned around, hands in front of him and settled on his hip.
“Did you get hard, Daddy?”
“Very, very hard, sweetheart.”
Will bit his lip. “Can I see?”
Hannibal chuckled, pushing his chair back from the desk. He tilted the camera, showing off his open slacks. His cock was long and thick, wet and purpling at the tip where the foreskin was pulled back. Will’s mouth watered. He wanted it badly.
“Oh, Daddy,” he breathed.
“Do you like what you see, Will?”
Will nodded mutely. “I want to put it in my mouth, Daddy. You’ll taste so good.”
Hannibal groaned, tilting his head back. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought about that, sweetheart.”
Will shifted, parting his thighs. “Daddy, I need you. Can I play with my toy now?”
Hannibal’s breath came low and warm, and he allowed himself to look at Will, his cock tenting his lacy panties, wetting them, all because he’d spanked himself for their mutual pleasure. Exquisite boy.
“Yes, Will,” he said. “Show Daddy how you play with your toy.”
One video call became several.
In them, Will masturbated for Hannibal, tormented his nipples with the new clips Hannibal sent him, wore his pretty panties for his Daddy. He fucked the toys Hannibal sent and imagined they were Hannibal’s cock. He edged himself until he was in tears with the vibrators. He came, over and over, with Hannibal’s name on his lips.
He spanked himself, often.
His public videos took on a new flavor as well. He’d post a tease of his bottom after a spanking, bruises peeking through from beneath the frothy lace of his bloomer panties, with the caption: Daddy says I’ve been a bad boy .
He modelled the new clothes Hannibal sent him with sweet suggestions that he was teasing Daddy . He flashed a little white thong with strawberries on it and red lacy hems from beneath a school girl skirt and turned to bend over for the camera, the skirt’s hem lifting to show the swell of his balls snug between soft thighs.
He messaged Hannibal constantly, as often as he felt was appropriate for such an inappropriate affair.
Eventually, half a bottle deep on an evening after an exam, Will messaged his Daddy the following:
I want to see you. Really see you. In person. I want to feel your hands on me, spreading me open. I want to feel your lips, teasing me like you promise to tease me. I want to come with Daddy’s cock buried in my ass. I’ve never had sex with another man before, just toys. But I want you, I want you terribly, Daddy.
He’d gone to bed drunk and lonely and woken to pure embarrassment.
That wasn’t the sort of relationship they had, him and Hannibal. He was a sex worker. Hannibal was a John. They weren’t dating. They weren’t committed.
Even though Hannibal was Will’s only Daddy, even though Will had never offered the things he gave to Hannibal to anyone else. Even though they spoke every morning and every night, Hannibal caring for him as much as he could from a distance.
Eat breakfast, Will.
It’s past your bedtime.
How did the exam go, sweetheart?
If he was lucky, Hannibal would have taken it as flirtation. Just another game, another role play.
But when Will checked his messages, what he found was an address, and a time.
I’ll see you for dinner, Will.
“Oh no,” he sighed. “Oh my god.”
They had been at this for months, now, and Will knew for a fact that no other benefactor on his site gave him as much attention and genuine care as Hannibal, but this couldn’t possibly work outside of the parameters they had set for this relationship.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized they’d never set any, they had just settled into whatever was happening around them and went with it. It had just happened to go in a direction both were thoroughly enjoying.
And now Will had fucked it up.
Because even through the lens of a camera Will could sit a certain way to look better, adjust the lighting, do something behind the scenes before appearing on screen again. But in person? In person he was an absolute mess.
He didn’t even have a suit.
He went with his nicest pair of jeans and some boots that weren’t too scuffed up. He had button up shirts but they were all flannel and plaid and he felt so stupid trying to tame his hair in the mirror. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. He was about to lose not only money that was genuinely helping him with rent and college fees, but a man who made Will feel warm inside every time he saw a message from him.
All because he’d gotten a little tipsy and too stupid.
Beneath his mish mash of somewhat-alright clothes he wore his favourite lingerie set that Hannibal had bought him, it was one he had never worn in other videos, and had only shown Hannibal once - the day he’d received it. It was what Will called, in his mind, the bridal set. White satin and lace panties, white stockings, a frothed garter belt, and a bralet. He figured if Hannibal took one look at him and sent him politely on his way, Will would at least be in something that made him feel confident.
He approached the door of Hannibal’s home with a lump in his throat, panic trembling through him, and had to force himself to knock on the door before he chickened out and ran away. Now he had no choice but to stay. It would be rude to run now; and Daddy did not put up with rudeness, that much Will knew very, very well.
Hannibal was taller than expected. Will was certain he was as well, given the delicate air he put on for his videos, but Hannibal outstripped him by another inch or so. Will bit his lip, head tilted.
He wished he’d asked Hannibal about his expectations. Was it a date? A job? Should Will expect to be paid and sent on his way come morning?
But then Hannibal ushered him in, a hand on his lower back, and once they were safely in the hallway, he smiled down at him.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
He curled his fingers below Will’s jaw, tilting his head up and kissing him chastely. The brush of their lips sent shivers down Will’s spine, electricity thrumming in his veins.
Will cleared his throat when Hannibal pulled back. “Hello, Daddy,” he whispered.
Perhaps dinner had been part of the original plan, but once the words left Will’s lips, he realized he wasn’t hungry. Not with the look Hannibal was giving him, the sharp-eyed, intimate gaze.
He kissed Hannibal again, a bit needier, and suddenly Hannibal was backing him into the door, sucking at his lower lip and biting at it with sharp teeth.
Will had been kissed before, fumbled and awkward behind the gym at school or half-drunk at pre-college parties but never like this, and never with someone who made Will weak at the knees. He moaned softly, a gentle thing, and clung to Hannibal’s jacket; if he let go now and if Hannibal stepped back, Will would end up in a puddle on the floor.
“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal whispered, breaking their kiss and cupping Will’s cheek in his palm. God, his hands were so large, so warm - “I’ve ached for you, Will.”
“Oh,” Will swallowed, eyes wide and searching Hannibal’s face. There was no lie there, no deception, no suggestion that this was a game. He did want Will, but he wanted more than just his body, and for more than just one night. Will trembled, a smile tilting his lips a little.
“I didn’t think… I’ve not… I don’t do this with other people on… online.”
“I know.”
“You just… I just want you.” Will licked his lips, tugging gently against Hannibal’s jacket before his smile widened, cheeks warm. “I just want Daddy.”
Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, drawing in a deep breath. “Before we start…”
And here it was. The catch. Will sucked in a breath of his own, braced for the hurt.
“I’m older than you,” Hannibal said, “significantly so. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything. I will continue to fund your way through school, even if-“
Will burst out laughing, the breath exploding from him in relieved hysterics. Hannibal pulled back, his expression puzzled.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Will explained. “God, are you kidding me? No one’s ever treated me like you do. It’s not just sex for you. You look out for me, you…” he trailed off, blushing and shaking his head. “I am…. immeasurably fond of you,” he said, unable to think of any better way to phrase it.
Hannibal’s shoulders sagged with his own relief. “Beautiful, impossible boy,” he said. “Let me have you.”
It was not a request.
Will’s grin was wicked. “Yes, Daddy.”
He allowed himself to be kissed again, wrapping his arms over Hannibal’s shoulders this time and squealing in surprise when the man bent to catch Will beneath his thighs and hoist him up against him off the floor. Will wrapped his legs around him too.
Hannibal held him as though Will weighed nothing at all, as though he really was his boy and Will was a little dainty thing. It made him shiver, made his cock thicken in his panties as he rocked up against Hannibal insistently, biting his lip when their kiss broke again.
“Are you gonna fuck me, Daddy?”
“Language,” Hannibal nipped him playfully and looked at Will with narrowed eyes. “Eventually, tempting thing. We have all the time in the world, now.”
Will wriggled happily. “But I want you to fuck me.”
“Language,” Hannibal repeated, catching Will’s hair to tug it a little, kissing his cheek as he did. “Or Daddy will have to give his boy a spanking first.”
Will trembled in anticipation. He’d never been more turned on in his life. He wanted it, everything. He wanted Hannibal to carry him and spank him, throw him around, tug his hair, fuck him… to kiss him softly and stroke his cheek and make love to him in the morning before coffee. Everything.
“I’ll need to take my pants off for that,” Will told him quietly, grinning when Hannibal sighed as though put upon and turned to carry him up the stairs.
Hannibal's bedroom was exactly as expected: posh and much too expensive, and luxuriously comfortable. Will literally bounced when he hit the mattress, squirming back. Hannibal removed his jacket and undid his tie, and just that was enough for Will’s cock to twitch in his panties.
“I brought you a present, Daddy,” Will whispered.
“Did you?”
Squirming with anticipation, Will spread his thighs. “You have to unwrap it first.”
Hannibal didn’t hesitate. He undid Will’s shirt buttons with deft fingers, kissing a trail down his chest until his lips nudged the bralet. Then he moaned, pulling back for a better look as he stripped Will completely out of his shirt.
“Such a pretty boy I have,” Hannibal murmured. “All dressed up for Daddy.” He leaned in, mouthing at Will’s nipple through the sheer fabric. Will arched with a soft whine, tangling fingers through Hannibal’s hair.
Hannibal’s mouth was not gentle, but it was worshipful. He sucked against Will’s nipples each in turn until he was whimpering, until the lace was wet with his spit and stuck to Will’s skin. Only then did he reach for Will’s belt and jeans humming warmly at what he found beneath.
He’d bought the set because he knew it would look exquisite on Will. He’d expected to see it show up on Will’s naughty little videos, but it never had. He’d worn it the once, the first night Hannibal had sent it, and then apparently never since. Until now. The thought warmed him. The fact that this gorgeous thing, this clever boy, was here with him, as eager for Hannibal now as he always seemed to be on camera, was remarkable.
As Will arched his back and let Hannibal remove his trousers, Hannibal sank to his knees, nuzzling between Will’s legs when Will spread them.
“Such a pretty boy for Daddy,” Hannibal repeated, breathless. He was entirely overcome. He thought he’d gone mad that night he’d seen Will the first time, but then it had happened every conversation after, and when he’d first seen Will live on video, Hannibal almost forgot how to breathe.
This boy owned him, body and soul, and Hannibal had never been happier.
He looked up, catching Will with the side of his thumb between his teeth again, blushing furiously, eyes wide and bright and on Hannibal completely. Hannibal smiled, watching Will smile back.
“A terrible distraction,” Hannibal chastened him fondly. “As always. Daddy will get nothing done at all with such a naughty boy in his bed.”
Will’s grin took on a mischievous quirk. He laid back amongst the pillows, legs parted, nipples peaking the damp fabric of his bralet, hair a halo about his head.
“Am I in trouble, Daddy?” He asked with a cheeky little flick of his tongue between his teeth. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re always in trouble, terrible thing. You’ve been allowed to run wild for too long.”
“Maybe you should spend more time with me, then.”
Hannibal huffed out a laugh, bracing himself over Will on his hands and knees. He nipped at his lower lip, plump and pink and perfect for biting. “Turn over, sweetheart.”
Will wriggled beneath him, all long limbs and smooth, creamy skin. He turned onto his stomach and Hannibal couldn’t help another small bite to the tempting nape of his neck.
Will shivered and bit his lip, closing his eyes as Hannibal’s lips moved from his nape down to the skin between Will’s shoulders. Then lower still, fingers careful to work Will’s bralet undone before kissing where it had held closed.
“Beautiful thing,” Hannibal sighed. “Absolutely beautiful boy. Have you been waiting for me?”
Will grinned, arching his back when Hannibal’s lips moved lower still. To the curve of his spine, kissing between the little dimples just peeking above Will’s lace panties.
“Yes, Daddy,” he murmured. Perhaps not for Hannibal in particular, perhaps not for this in particular, but for someone. Something. For something perfect. He gasped as Hannibal teased his tongue beneath the hem, laughed when he snapped it lightly against Will’s skin. “Don’t tease me.”
“You tease me every day,” Hannibal countered, sliding his hands down Will’s thighs, smiling when Will spread them for him. “I’m going to take my time.”
It was the sort of thing people dreamed about for a first time. Hannibal was loving, attentive. He pulled Will’s panties down one centimeter at a time, kissing and biting at his cheeks. His breath was warm and made Will shiver.
“Daddy,” Will whispered when his panties were tugged down around his thighs. “Daddy, I haven’t, before.”
It was a bit of a useless reminder. Of course, Hannibal already knew. Will had told him more than once. But nerves and shyness overtook Will, making him heat up and hide his face in the pillow.
“You’re perfect,” Hannibal assured him. He spread Will’s cheeks with his hands, licking a stripe over the tight entrance he revealed.
“Oh fuck,” Will whispered. Hannibal pulled back to smack him firmly over the curve of his ass. Will choked on a moan.
It was more, of course it was more. It was ten times better than beating himself with his own hairbrush.
“Daddy, please.”
“Language, Will.”
“I’m sorry, please, please don’t stop,” Will whimpered, biting down on the pillow as Hannibal spanked him again, just for good measure, before returning to tormenting Will with his tongue. He took his time, feeling Will shiver, and tense up, before relaxing into a puddle on the bed. He was exquisite, this shy and lovely creature in his bed, a boy that had reached out to Hannibal himself, had welcomed him into the intimacies of his desires and pleasure, had allowed Hannibal to spoil and adore him.
Hannibal eased Will’s panties down lower, hitching his hips up in order to devour him more ardently, sending Will into a series of pleading little whimpers and gasps, hands grasping against the sheets.
“Daddy, I’m gonna come!”
“Good,” Hannibal nipped Will’s cheek enough to leave a little red mark. “Come for Daddy, messy little thing. Let me see.”
“No, please, oh -”
Hannibal slipped a hand between Will’s legs and teased him through the lace, working him closer and closer to his release, humming, pleased, when Will shuddered and came, hot into Hannibal’s palm.
“Remarkable boy,”
“Daddy,” Will groaned, spreading his legs wider, arching his back deeper. “Daddy, fuck me, please, please fuck me,”
Hannibal sat back and spanked him again, twice for each time he swore, before catching Will around the hips and flipping him over, kissing him before Will could say anything else.
He crowded Will, overwhelmed his senses. Will gasped into his mouth and clung to his shoulders.
Hannibal didn’t ease the panties off of Will so much as tear them. Will whimpered as the delicate fabric ripped, pouting up at Hannibal.
“Those were my favorite.”
“Daddy will buy you more.”
Hannibal’s gaze was hungry as he parted Will’s legs once more, rubbing the lube-slick pads of his fingers over Will’s tight entrance. Will bit his lip, lashes lowered.
“I practiced, Daddy,” he said in the voice he used for videos. “But you’re so big…”
Hannibal leaned in, nuzzling their noses together. “You’re beautiful when you play,” he said softly, “but you don’t need to put on a show for me right now. It’s just us.”
Will blushed furiously and closed his eyes a moment. Then he nodded, just a quick little jerk of his head, and opened them again. He didn’t have to pretend here, to put on an act, to be someone else’s fantasy. This was his fantasy. He pressed their foreheads together and tucked his lip between his teeth a moment.
“You are pretty big,” he admitted quietly, and Hannibal’s laugh was a puff of air against Will’s lips. He grinned. “God, the first time you let me see you, I… I dreamed about it. Every night after that I dreamed about being in your bed, just like this.”
“Sweet boy,” Hannibal kissed him, a soft thing to Will’s lips that was almost chaste, if he wasn’t working his fingers into Will’s hole. Will tensed around him, and a breath later relaxed again. He clung to Hannibal tightly, one hand playing slowly with his hair, the other just curled around the back of his head, keeping Hannibal close, keeping those dark eyes on him.
“Thank you for letting me give you this,” Hannibal added after a moment, turning his head to kiss the skin of Will’s arm where it wrapped around him. “For letting me have my beautiful boy in my bed.”
Will shivered. This was so intimate, so gentle. It wasn’t as though he’d expected Hannibal to be rough with him, but he’d never experienced someone so utterly enthralled with wanting to bring Will pleasure as this man was. Hannibal fingered him until Will was panting again, until he was squirming in his grip and laughing when Hannibal ducked his head to kiss a bruise beneath Will’s jaw.
“Please, Daddy?” He whispered. “Let me feel you. Let me feel you fill me up.”
It didn’t hurt. Will had too much practice for Hannibal to truly hurt him.
But it was different. Warmer. Will clenched around Hannibal and it felt nothing like the stiff toys he usually rode. Hannibal was alive, in motion. Will tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling and moaned.
When he bottomed out, Hannibal took a few moments just to kiss him. His hands were so gentle as they petted Will’s flanks.
“I won’t break,” Will promised him in a breathy whisper.
“You deserve to be treated like you will.”
There was nothing Will could say to that. He cupped Hannibals face and kissed him softly, as Hannibal began to move with such tender, careful thrusts.
It wasn’t a fucking. It was making love, and Will had to hold himself together not to cry like a little kid that he was being treated so wonderfully by a man he met on the internet. In this day and age it shouldn’t have been so strange but it was , because things like this didn’t happen to Will Graham, who had never had much and always had to make do.
With a sigh, Will dropped his head back again, grinning when Hannibal kissed over his throat, nuzzled beneath his jaw, before sucking a claiming little mark over pale skin. Will bit his lip and moaned in pleasure. He’d show that off on video later. He’d be a proud claimed thing now, and he didn’t care if others saw. In fact, he meant to show them.
He wrapped his long legs around Hannibal, toes pointed in his pleasure, and encouraged him to speed up, to thrust harder against him.
“Daddy,” he sighed, squirming beneath him. One hand slid down Hannibal’s back, spreading wide to hold between his strong shoulders as Hannibal pistoned his hips and sped up, brushing Will’s prostate with jarring accuracy until he was crying out breathy little pleas with every thrust.
“Please,” he whimpered. “Harder. I want to feel you for days, I want -”
“Anything,” Hannibal promised him, grasping Will’s hair to tug, bringing their lips together. Will opened his mouth to it hungrily and tensed his thighs, squeezing Hannibal between them, milking his cock as he thrust in again.
It was over very quickly. Will was young, and oversensitive. He spilled over again before long, weak little spurts of fluid splashing over his stomach.
Hannibal pushed him through it, hushing him when Will’s moans turned to cries, when he arched his back and twisted beneath Hannibal, clenching around him and sobbing as Hannibal began to come.
Toys couldn’t do this to Will, couldn’t fill him up, warm him from the inside. They couldn’t hold him after and press kisses into his skin, nuzzle away tears. They certainly couldn’t tell him what a lovely, sweet boy he was, how much they loved him.
“You love me?” Will whispered, voice raw and cracking with emotion.
Hannibal hesitated. Will saw a flash of concern, of the same fear that flooded Will every time they spoke. The fear that told him it was all just a game. A John and his boy.
But no John had ever called Will for two straight hours when he was crying and out of his mind over his upcoming exams. No John would ever have Skyped to eat dinner and tuck him into bed.
“I love you,” Hannibal finally said. “Beautiful, brilliant boy, of course I love you.”
Will didn’t say it back, not yet, he couldn’t. But he clung to Hannibal tightly and relaxed beneath his weight and let himself cry a little more. He felt it, sure as anything, but this wasn’t the time; not for him. But he would tell him, over dinner, perhaps, after they’d showered and Will was given a fluffy robe to wear over nothing at all; over breakfast the next morning, when not Will but Hannibal pulled the boy from sleep with his mouth; over the coming weeks and months that they shared together.
He’d tell him.
But for now it was easier to laugh to press a hand to his face and peek at Hannibal from between his fingers.
“I only brought one set of lingerie,” he mumbled apologetically. Hannibal hummed, tucking a curl behind Will’s ear and drawing his thumb over his cheek to catch the last of his drying tears.
“I’m sure I can help with that,” he said, leaning in to kiss Will’s forehead. “What sort of Daddy would I be if I didn’t spoil my boy?”