sweetcinnamcn

[sweetcinnamcn]

Family Dinner || Self-Para

Summary - Ian and his three older siblings come home for a family dinner after which his mother gives him a talking to plus a little something something for the upcoming Bachelor Auction.

WC: 2,630

Without Tommy there to back him up, Ian slips into old habits too easily. It’s hard for him to not let his brothers’ joshing get to him, and each quip at his expense makes Ian’s smile that much more strained. Everything from “Hey Schoolboy!” to bets on how much cum he’s been guzzling seems to be on the table tonight, and since they’re drinking they’re a bit more abrasive about it too. Ian really doesn’t like being around his brothers when they’re drinking.

“Huh, buddy?” Ian had retreated inwards and completely zoned out of the conversation. It wasn’t until Harrison clapped him on the back that he even realized all three of his siblings were looking at him. His mouth falls agape as he tries to think of something—anything—to say, but Donovan’s snort beats him to the chase.

“Space cadet strikes again. How’s the view from the clouds Lieutenant Dumbass?” he chortles, both his brothers laughing boisterously now. Ian laughs along with obviously less zeal.

Annette only shakes her head, moderately eye-rolling at her brothers. “Please don’t mess with him like that. Ian’s no fun when he starts to turtle up.” While he’s sure she means well, comments like that only ever get his big brothers laughing at him harder. This is why Ian doesn’t enjoy family dinners without his younger in attendance.

“What’s wrong, Annie? Junior too busy to be his white knight so you’ve got to fill the vacancy?”

“Not that he needs it. He’s a grown man and we’re just kidding around. Ian knows it. Look at him! Life of the party!” Harrison points right to the smile glued to Ian’s face. That gets a smile out of Annette which she attempts to hide by taking a sip from her wine glass. Harrison and Donovan never hide when they’re laughing at him. This is why he needs his little brother. Ian always feels invisible, pushed aside, belittled, and a bunch of other things he’s not good at vocalizing whenever he’s at home. Tommy always knew how to save him.

“Have you guys spoken to him recently? I know he’s super busy, but I can’t ever get him on the phone anymore—”

“Time zones, buddy. We’ve been over this. England is a few hours ahead of us, so you can’t just call him whenever.” So what if Ian has to count on his fingers to get an idea of what time it is for Tommy, it’s not like he forgets he has to! Though … he doesn’t say anything to reject the implication about his understanding of time zones either.

“Nah, he’s been dodging me too! He goes and claims a princess and suddenly “His Highness” is too good for us.”

“His Grace. Tommy is only going to be a duke by marriage and—”

“Yeah ok, we get that you’re jealous of his royal assent, but seriously Annie couldn’t you at least try to not sound bitter whenever he comes up?”

That’s how things have always been between his siblings. They have a brash, witty sense of humor and even Annette’s found a way to navigate those waters effectively. She can take it and dish it out without sacrificing the austerity she places in her classification. Ian was never as good as her. All he could ever do was smile through it all. As they continue to bicker amongst themselves and Ian starts to wish that Mother let him at least have a glass of wine like Annette got, he sees his father come into the room. He can’t help his sigh of relief.

“Boys, mind the volume. Really, I don’t know why she lets you drink on empty stomachs. You both get so belligerent!” It’s only a gentle scolding on his part, no hints of genuine irritation are found on his face. His brothers know this as well and both take a large swallow of their beers in response. Walter McCallister, the perfect claim for a woman like Clarice, the perfect father to both wrangle and console the children she bore as they needed. Ian’s always felt closer to his father, and for more reasons than their shared classification. He was hoping to get a chance to speak with him privately at some point before dinner was over, but hasn’t gotten to yet. “Dinner is about to be served. Why don’t you all wash up and come take a seat? Your mother is hungry and she is not in a patient mood tonight,” Walter informs before Ian can get a chance to say something. All buzzed except Ian, the McCallister children file out of the room. Ian starts to perk up a bit after his father gives him a gentle shoulder pat on his way out.

Dinner was delicious, and in typical McCallister fashion, it ends as they always do. As soon as Clarice puts her utensil down, Ian, Annette, and Walter all get up from their spots to clear the table. The Dominants will continue to sit and chat for a while. They’ll drink and have fun waiting for the others to bring dessert and coffee if desired. Those three only get dessert as an occasional reward, so none for them tonight much to Ian’s disappointment. There’s a delicious-looking lemon cake in the kitchen just calling his name. He’s even so bold as to try and finger swipe some icing off of it, but Annette slaps his hand away before he gets a chance. Ian is mid pout when a single command makes him go rigid.

“Ian, darling,” Clarice calls out from the dining room. “I’ll be taking my dessert in my study. Be a dear and bring it up to me.” The tension in the kitchen is palpable. Annette and Walter keep cleaning, but even Ian knows they’ve each got a nervously watchful eye on him. Being alone with Mother in her study only means one thing: prepared to get chewed out. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he responds, dejectedly cutting a suitable piece of cake for Mother and bringing it up. He has to suffer the typical “Ooo you’re in trouble”’s from his lounging brothers as he walks by. It’s not like they’re kids anymore so he doesn’t understand why they get such a kick out of it, but much like when they were, Ian shrugs away from their scrutiny so hard that it looks like he’s trying to make his head disappear. ‘Turtling’ as Annette so aptly put it, warranting even more joshing at his expense while he hurries to Mother’s study.

A deep sigh at the door and then a knock, Ian’s typical ritual. He can’t remember a time in his life when he left this room feeling good. He enters once prompted and sets the cake down in front of her, then steps back from her desk and stands there, waiting patiently. This is a common routine and Ian’s had plenty of practice, though he does think that her having him watch her eat it is a bit much. It feels like a punishment. Then again, so have their last few chats.

“Mm! That was absolutely divine. I swear, your father’s skills in the kitchen have never once diminished over the years. I do wish you could’ve enjoyed some…” Her voice and expression are cheery, but her eyes seem very cold. Even the way Clarice cleans the fork intimidates Ian. She’s quite skilled at making him feel naked in a not-fun way. “…then again, you haven’t been a very good boy, have you?” 

“No Ma’am, I have not,” he says without hesitation. Confessing it out loud hurts so much. In a single sentence, weeks of “good boys” have been erased. Until he gets claimed, there’s only one Dominant who gets to dictate how well Ian’s behaving, and Clarice McCallister’s margins for grading are very clear.

“Huh,” is her only response, those cold eyes of hers repeating every scathing critique she’s voiced recently. There’s no need to rehash them, Ian knows full and well how he’s failed and why he’s failed. “Ian, I’ve been very patient with you. Men in our family attending Lowell has been a great honor for generations. You are the very first to turn that honor into an embarrassment. You should feel embarrassed by your inability to get claimed. It’s no one’s fault but your own.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I’d be able to reimburse myself for nine years of tuition.”

“I know. I’m—” A single quirk of Clarice’s eyebrow is all it takes for the words to die on Ian’s tongue. He looks down at his feet, unable to handle her disapproving gaze. He feels choked up like a hot coal is burning through his throat. The ground below starts to look blurry as well. Ian is doing his best not to cry. He knows Mother hates seeing that. “I’m trying really hard. I help out and I talk to a lot of Dominants. I have a lot of friends! But I … I don’t know why no Dominant wants me. I do everything you suggest and it—”

“Maybe you should spend less time screwing around with taken locals and put your energies towards getting serious about getting claimed.” He visibly winces at that interruption, because in his heart he knows there’s a lot of truth to it. “At this point, I’m not sure which is more humiliating. The fact that you’ve been there for nearly a decade, or the fact that your highest accolade is getting labeled as the school slut.” That one hurts even more, but he has a tool to use. Luckily, in his increasingly stressed frame of mind, he remembers to take it out of the toolbox his therapist has been helping him build.

“Dr. Addams says—”

“I’m the one paying for your little headcase pow wows with Dr. Addams. The last thing I want thrown in my face right now is whatever Freudian bullshit he told you to spout at me.”

“I-I just—”

“Would you quit mumbling like an idiot? Don’t slouch like that. Stand up straight, hold your head up high. If you have something to say, use your voice, Ian. How many times do I have to tell you this? Appearance is everything. Fix yourself, now!” He lifts his head but has to sniffle. Ian is full-on crying by the end of that and he just couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. Clarice’s eye-roll in response only makes him feel worse. “My sensitive little boy, what are we going to do with you?” she sighs, shaking her head. Ian stands perfectly still, trying to compose himself even though he knows he’s failing. The night has been a lot for him and he’s feeling raw from it all, but he knows what’s coming when Mother stands and walks around her desk. He’s thankful for it.

For all her talk about hating hysterics, she’s very good at dealing with Ian’s. She tenderly grasps the back of his head and brings his face into her neck, embracing her son. Ian wraps his large frame around her in turn, sobbing uncontrollably now that he’s been given the all-clear. He’s incoherent, inconsolable, but Clarice’s soothing touches calm Ian down. When she feels he’s gotten enough of it out of his system, she pushes him back gently by his shoulders. One hand goes to cup his pitiful face, stroking his cheek with her thumb as he whimpers out the last of his outpouring. “Ian, it’s just you. Even Tommy’s grown up and done it now. Not to mention he’s taken our ‘marrying up’ speeches seriously. I mean, he’s claimed into royalty! It’s bad for my image to have you still at Lowell with not even a prospect while all your other siblings have done so well. We need to change that, right?”

“Y-Yes Ma’am. I’ll try harder.” Eventually, she smiles and he smiles through his teary eyes in return. He must’ve finally said the right thing.

“Good boy.” There it is, the two words that uplift him more than everything else. A single phrase is capable of washing away all the cold pricklies and replacing them with warm fuzzies. He’s feeling better already. “But what am I always telling you?”

“My looks are my most important asset?” 

“Exactly!” she praises. “You’re such a beautiful boy. Though, you could probably benefit from shedding some weight. Did you have to get so bulky?” Ian’s used to criticism being attached to Mother’s compliments. Her standards are extremely high. “I don’t expect you to be able to come up with a solution, which is why I’m going to help you. When Harrison was at Lowell, I did something for him before the Bachelor Auction. I’ve decided I’m going to do the same for you.”

He starts to wipe his face and continues to compose himself when Clarice turns around to her desk. He can’t see what she’s scribbling out, but after hearing some paper tear he figures what she’s doing. “Now, I know I’ve expressed my hesitation about doing this before, but Ian the auction has only ever resulted in you being a glorified whore for a night. How many times were you purchased by someone who had actual intentions of claiming you?” Out of eight times, the answer is none, and the pause it takes for him to mull this over is long enough for the rhetorical nature of Clarice’s question to be apparent. “My point exactly. This year, you’re taking matters into your own hands.”

Ian looks at the check, amazed at the amount. He’s never held that much money in his life, and it means the world to him that Mother has faith in his ability to do this.

“But Ma’am—”

“No buts, just promise me you’ll spend it wisely. Don’t waste this opportunity. Choose a Dominant carefully, one you have a shot with. It’s okay to think of a game plan too. In fact, you should ask Annie for tips. I’ve never seen anyone wrap a Dominant around their finger quite like her.”

Ian nods, sniffling still but smiling nonetheless. “Thank you, Mother. I won’t let you down. I’m gonna get a great date and I’ll get claimed. This will be my last year at Lowell, I promise.” Clarice smiles and dismisses Ian with a nod. He holds the check to his chest, feeling like he’s living a dream. Mother is right, this year he’s not leaving anything to chance. He’s going to make the right choice and finally get claimed.

The next couple of days on campus, Ian tried to keep his ear to the ground and figure out who he’d focus his bidding efforts on. Annie gave him some tips for how to plan the date in a way that’ll keep a Dominant interested, but that doesn’t help him choose. It’s not until he gets some alone time in the game room that he makes up his mind. Feeling the green of the pool table reminds Ian of a memory he hasn’t visited recently, only because he failed to find the need. But now … it’s giving him inspiration. “It’s settled then. I know what I’m going to do,” he says to himself, resolute in a way that’s almost uncharacteristic. Ian isn’t sure if he’s going to be able to live up to his promises by going for who he’s thinking, but he’s sure that it’s the best option given his predicament. “The Bachelor Auction is just around the corner. I have to make sure I’m ready. I’m going to land a Dominant, bring him home, and Mother will be so proud she’ll call me a good boy a whole bunch. I’m sure of it.”

[sweetcinnamcn]

[sweetcinnamcn]

lawoflowell​:

Nathan was in his element as today was a rewards day, as the children seemed way more interested in the topic then when it was a punishment day. Those days although still educational, seemed where the students tended to either not want to pay attention or back-talk him. Nathan was explaining to the class different types of vibrating toys and how they were to be used, even the ones that were already advanced and could be controlled by mobile devices through things such as blue tooth. 

He dismissed the class with a smile. “And don’t forget to read up on chapter 1t for next time. we’ll be talking over the subject of handcuffs and when is the best time to use them!” Nathan started to erase the blackboard as Ian collect the demonstrations that had been placed around the room. He cleared his throat as the chalk dust entering in the air always got his lungs going. He heard the Assistant and turned around giving him a hand signal to give him a second. “Sorry about that, yes. Mr. McCallister what can i do for you?” 

Nathan took a sip of water as he let the teacher’s assistant speak, giving the proper amount of eye contact. Setting his cup down onto his lecture desk he thought about his response to the other. “I would love to do more live examples Ian but sometimes these these topics can seem a little gruesome or simple to be doing in from of other classmates, especially ones that are intimate.  He was surprised at what the other had predicted he was going to say, and he wasn’t very wrong as it was something Nathaniel would say. 

“Well I guessi can consider it Ian, although this does seem a little like your playing kiss-up.. did you have anything particular in mind. He starts seeing that the other is eager with his expression as he walks closer, wondering if he should give in to it seems what Ian really wants.  

He can tell Nathan is paying attention, attempting to take Ian seriously which should make him feel good. In truth, it only makes him feel embarassed. This conversation would probably be going smoother if Ian was being honest. It’s probably the least he could do considering Professor Law is being so curteous, but therein lies his dilemma. The Code of Conduct dictates certain boundaries a teaching assistant and professor need to maintain, so it’s not like he can just come out and say 'Hey, you edged me so good today and I feel like I’m about to explode. Mind finishing me off?’

Which is what he wants to say so badly the words threaten to leap off of his tongue. Instead he swallows audibly and tries to prevent his eyelids from fluttering as Nathan steps closer, becoming a little more flushed. “W-What? A kiss up? No no no, you’ve got it all wrong! It’s not like I get a grade in your class or something,” Ian chuckles out, grinning nervously. “Just trying to be the best assistant. But you’re absolutely right. It could be a lot which is why ... we should practice together! Go through all the options and work out an engaging lesson plan through trial and error.”

For a man without a plan, Ian seems to have thought through this conversation a little more than he let on. He somehow managed to keep the toys Nathan used on him separate from the rest of the lot for cleaning. He slides the array across the table, the gentle noise of them clanging together sending shivers down his spine and to one, clenching area specifically. “You can practice rewarding ... or punishing me, with different methods and we can see what works or doesn’t before the students have to see. Next class is handcuffs, right? We could use those maybe too? If you wanted, Sir.” Does he sound desperate? Ian hopes not, even though desperation is what he feels. His body is humming now, still craving Nathan’s touch and direction. Even though they don’t have an audience anymore, the prospect of continuing where the demonstration left off still thrills Ian. “What do you say, Professor?” 

[sweetcinnamcn]

Physical Contact Starters

No explicit NSFW, but some could be interpreted that way. Alter as necessary!

SOFT

“Your hands are so warm.”

“Ah, that feels good…”

“Wait… are you braiding my hair?”

“Is it okay if I lean on you?”

“Just hold me for awhile. Please.”

“You don’t mind me touching you there, right?”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to fall asleep leaning on you.”

“Don’t stop stroking my hair…”

“Be gentle with me.”

“Y’know, I could go for a back rub right now. Just saying.”

“Please… Kiss me, even if it’s just this once.”

“I bet I’m strong enough to pick you up.”

“Can I use your lap as a pillow?”

“Touch me. I don’t care how. I just need to feel something right now…”

“I could kiss you all over.”

“That tickles!”

“Mind washing my back for me?”

“I didn’t know you were the cuddling type.”

“I love how soft your lips are.”

“Don’t get up just yet, I’ll miss having you next to me.”

“No one’s kissed me like that in a long time.”

ROUGH

“Ow! That fucking hurt!”

“Keep talking, and I’ll seriously slap the shit out of you.”

“You stepped on my foot!”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Please be more gentle next time…”

“Don’t squeeze so tight!”

“Hey, don’t touch me there. It hurts.”

“Did you just bite me?!”

“Next time I’ll hit you like I mean it.”

“Is that the best you’ve got?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ll make you bleed.”

“You really can’t take a hit, can you?”

“Hey!! What was that for?!”

“Shit, are you crying? I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

“That stung a little. Go easy on me next time.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little sparring.”

“You almost knocked me over!”

“I won’t stop until I hear you scream.”

“That’s gonna leave a bruise…”

“You broke my nose!”

[sweetcinnamcn]

@lawoflowell​

It was a practical day, a lesson on rewards. Of course, Ian has no preference whether he’s involved in a demonstration for rewards or punishments, but he tends to feel a little friskier following one on the former. Today’s involved vibrating toys, and as usual Professor Law was thorough in his explanation of proper usage while Ian did his best to be the best test dummy despite how much he simply wanted to let go and enjoy. 

As he cleans up the toys left behind while Nathan worked at the front of the lecture hall, Ian’s mind keeps returning to how each new toy buzzed in a more pleasurable way that the one before. He knows it’d be selfish and improper, but he can’t help the desire to sneak a little one into his ass right now, though he knows better. There’s no way the professor wouldn’t notice. 

With a sigh, he brings the bin of vibrators to the front table and sets them down. He stands there, a little dumbfounded, mulling over the right words to express himself. “Um ... excuse me, Professor?” Ian forces out finally, shifting a bit on his feet trying to distract himself from how tingly he felt ... well, just about everywhere right now. “I’ve noticed that everybody is much more engaged on days like this, when you do demonstrations. And I know you probably want everyone to pass the first time around. So ... I was thinking, what if you did more live examples for them?” There’s a hint of excitement in Ian’s tone, suggesting that his motives for starting this conversation might not be focused on student outreach. 

“I know what you’re going to say: ‘Ian, you’re a TA for other classes too. What if you get tired?’” he tries parroting Nathan’s voice. “But it’s alright! I can handle it. I just want to help you give the best lectures. Not that there’s anything wrong with them now, Sir! I just thought...” Ian doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he starts bouncing on his toes as he pleads desperately with his eyes for Nathan to agree to use him more. 

[sweetcinnamcn]

domeverett​:

   They say I’m allowed to co-sponsor an activity while I’m here. I’m honored. Question is, do I go for equestrian practice, weightlifting, or water polo? There’s a lot of bouncing in equestrian practice, a lot of grunting in weightlifting, and water polo seems like a good excuse to get wet. 

   New question: why does all of this suddenly sound terribly sexual? 

Sexual? You can’t bang a horse or metal plates. I guess you could do it in a pool, but that just sounds annoying. What happens to the cum? It’ll just wash away! That’s no fun, Sir. Sports are for friends, you can think about doing sexy stuff after you work up a sweat not during.

But you should just do what I did and choose the ones that’ll let you use your body the most. You look like you have a great one. 

[sweetcinnamcn]

Smut Starters | M/M | NSFW

The links are porn (nsfw) images. This is  M/M only. 

Put a number & letter in my inbox, (without peeking at the image OR you can peek) for a drabble or a thread starter inspired by the corresponding image. Please specify the muse. There are 4 posts like this [ MF/FF/MM ], [ MF only ], [ MM only ], [ FF only ].

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[sweetcinnamcn]

♦ Stats

» Brant Daugherty » Thirty-Two » Legacy » Ninth Year » Switch

♦ Connection(s):

     TBA.

† Biography

    Ian, being the fourth born, was subjected to more parental whimsy than his older siblings. That’s why he and his younger brother weren’t told their classifications until they started school. That meant for his first few years, when people would comment how cute or pretty he was, the compliment was also coupled with the additive “You’ll be able to hook a great Dominant with that face, won’t you?” This clued a young Ian onto two things: That getting claimed was important to think about even at that age, and that so long as he had his looks he could get claimed by the best. These realizations led to Ian always emphatically and earnestly respond to such statements with an excited “Yes I will, one day!”

    Luckily, he was spared any dysphoria by turning out to be born a Switch. Getting claimed was still in his future, and in many ways, his only path to a future. That’s not some internalized ideal Ian holds, but simply a fact of life based on his upbringing. Being a part of Portsmith’s “first family” came with many additional facets to his life that Ian never stopped to consider out of the ordinary. His grandfather was mayor, and his father before that, so on and so forth for generations. Upon his grandfather’s passing, his mother became the next, which meant he was present for every traditional town event, every special Lowell Academy occasion, and all the days in between when the poised gentleman at the academy strolled through town at their leisure. Granted, given the McCallister’s coveted pedigree among the locals, Ian was subjected to more Lowell life earlier than most of the children in Portsmith, but this only served to fuel his fascination with high society. Like many from the area, Ian worshiped the ground Lowell students walked on and became especially misty-eyed when he got to see the Dominants up close. Bless his heart, he couldn’t help but fantasize about the days when he would get to walk those halls and find someone to claim him, something that he was always praised about since it showed that he had a good head on his shoulders. It was never a question of ‘if’ for Ian, but ‘who’ since, after all, he was pretty. And that’s all that mattered. 

    He was keen on enrolling right after high school, but his parents encouraged him to go to university first and explore himself a little more. The only thing Ian was interested in exploring was life after getting claimed, so he sort of drifted through undergrad until he finished. Even when he started at Lowell Academy, Ian’s grades were nothing to brag about. He did the bare minimum required to pass, but his social life flourished. The McCallister name offered many paths to popularity, but Ian’s charisma and fun-loving attitude made him well-liked on his own merits. He had looks and personality on his side, plus he was a total ‘yes man’ which meant he knew how to provide a good time, so naturally he attracted the attention of many students. And faculty. One incredibly popular Dominant professor in particular, who’d already claimed two submissives, came onto Ian. He in turn got swept up in the affair, believing the professor’s intentions to dissolve his claim so they could be together. That never actually happened, and Ian was strung along up until he was dumped, his reputation trashed in the process. As the rumors had it, Ian was the predatory gold digger determined to uproot an esteemed man’s life. The students rallied against him and most of the Dominants in his year chose to boycott him entirely.  

    Since then, Ian’s status has been changed to “claim pending” three times, yet no Dominant has made it official. Whispers of his past and “promiscuity” always end up seeding doubt. While most rumors floating around hold little truth, there are some that are pretty accurate. All are believable though given that Ian’s actions help to back them up. He’s actively involved with multiple Portsmith locals currently in claims, plus his trusting nature and eager to please attitude makes him a prime option for others looking to step out on their relationships. For a while, Ian thought using his body was the best way to connect with people he likes, but recently his parents have started to point out that he’s soon growing to be too old for Dominant to see him as an appropriate claim prospect and it’s time for him to move on from Lowell.  

    Ian can’t help but see reason in their warnings. All his own viewpoints have gotten him are nine years’ worth of relationships that never panned out. He’s taken so many courses at Lowell that much of his time now is spent acting as a general TA to professors instead of taking more, so he doesn’t feel like much of a student regardless of what his transcript says. While his sunny disposition still shines strong, those who know Ian well can tell something’s different about him. If looks are everything and people still desire his company, then why is it so hard for him to get claimed? Ian’s not used to contemplating things like this and is ill-equipped to analyze his past behavior. Instead, he’s continuing on as he always has at Lowell, being the hot, good time everyone wants him to be while trying to stay positive. So long as he looks good, he’ll manage to keep his spirits up.

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[sweetcinnamcn]

[sweetcinnamcn]