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internet-sadass · 3 months

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An Eye For An Eye (Peter Strahm x female reader)

Blurb: you gave Strahm some hickies he can't hide so he's giving you a limp no one will miss.

Warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, spanking, dom/sub undertones, punishment, mild humiliation/degradation

"Have a fun time last night?" Perez asked, shooting Strahm a grin.

Strahm had blissfully forgotten about the little 'reminder' you'd left him on his neck. You hadn’t even had the decency to leave it just an inch lower so it was below his shirt collar. Not only that, but it wasn’t just one hickey, it was a cluster of them that almost merged together to form a mega-hickey. It looked like a cricket ball had collided with the side of his neck and left a nasty purple bruise behind.

"Don't...just don't." Strahm was in no mood to explain or to be teased today. He'd faced enough annoyance already this morning, desperately trying to figure out a way to cover the damn thing up. Apart from wearing a scarf all day, he'd accepted his fate and the stares he was going to get for the next week or two until the hickies healed.

"I'm just glad you're able to relax a bit and let off some steam in your down time." She said, smiling. "Seems like whoever you were with last night also let out some serious frustration."

Letting out a long sigh, Strahm willed himself to hold it all together right now and ignore the looks some of the other agents milling around were giving him. At least Hoffman wasn't here. He knew that bastard would practically jump for joy at the chance to harass him about a singular hickey, let alone nearly five of them.

"Agent Strahm, have you-"

Oh fuck, speak of the devil , Strahm thought, wishing the ground would open and swallow him up.

Hoffman had a smirk playing on his full lips. His blue eyes met Strahm’s then dropped to the mottled bruising adorning the right side of his neck. Strahm glared at the shorter man, hoping the intensity of his gaze would be enough to deter Hoffman from opening his mouth.

"Are those lovebites?" Hoffman didn't even try to keep his voice down, practically announcing his question to the whole building. He took a step closer, squinting at Strahm's neck in an exaggerated fashion. Strahm wanted to sock him right in his stupid smug face.

"They’re not damn ‘lovebites’, Detective Hoffman." Strahm said through gritted teeth. Composing himself, he tried to think of a realistic excuse for what had caused the mottled bruising on his neck. He drew a total blank and instead figured he should tell Hoffman in a professional manner to shut the fuck up about the hickies.

"It's interesting that the condition of my neck is such a concern to you when we have far bigger things to worry about like a killer still being active and on the loose." Strahm hoped this response was enough to get Hoffman to stop focusing on the condition of his neck and actually start being a pain about something less humiliating.

Hoffman's smirk remained plastered on his face, making him look incredibly punchable (in Strahm's eyes, at least).

"I was expressing my concern for you, Agent Strahm. It looks like something tried to maul your neck." Hoffman spoke loud enough that those milling around them heard his comment and tried to subtly look over at the confrontation going on between the two men.

“Plus,” He continued, “I could say the same thing for you. Going out and fooling around with whoever it is you're running with doesn't scream 'I'm dedicating everything I have in me to solving this case'. Seems likes your priorities are in the wrong place."

Dumbfounded at the nerve of Hoffman to say something like that in their fucking workplace, Strahm just stood for a few moments, staring at the shorter man with a look of utter contempt.

Gathering up what was left of his shredded dignity, Strahm cleared his throat and decided to close this conversation before Hoffman could start speculating anything else about his sex life.

"Well, standing around debating what I should or shouldn't be doing in my free time isn't helping us make any progress so I suggest that we start discussing something actually relevant."

Hoffman gave the hickies one last look, raising an eyebrow at Strahm then glancing at Perez, before walking off, satisfied that he’d caused Strahm enough angst for that morning.

***

Throughout the day, the topic of the markings on Strahm's neck came up, whether explicitly through comments or implicitly through the confused or concerned looks people were giving him.

In the late afternoon, Strahm got a moment to himself, and dashed off to the bathroom to 'admire' the damage you'd done to his neck. He groaned looking at it. It was a vivid purple mass, so dark in places that not even concealer could have bought him a little more dignity and lessened the shock value.

Sighing, he splashed water on his face, readying himself to return and preserve with his job. But later, oh later he was going to teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.

***

"Hey, how was wo-"

"Get in here!"

You'd barely had the chance to greet Strahm before he'd pulled you into his apartment and slammed you up against the closed front door. He held you there, a fist tangled in your hair, pinning you to the door. A muscle in his jaw twitched as you stared up at him, wide-eyed like a caught rabbit. A tremble of fear and arousal travelled through your body.

"Peter-"

"Do you have any idea the shit I've had to put up with today because of this?" He hissed, pointing to the hickies you'd oh-so kindly given him last night. "Not just from that bastard Hoffman, but from every fucking person I walked past today. All of them, giving me this look like I'm some sort of disgraced pervert."

The fist in your hair was yanked, making your body bang against the door. Strahm's short temper and hot-headed nature was something you were used to, but this was a whole new level of it you'd never seen. Regardless, the way he was already manhandling you and putting you in your place was making arousal blossom in your belly. You gripped your thighs together, letting the friction of your jeans give you a bit of relief.

"I'm sorry, I just got carried away last night." It was the honest truth. You'd been too absorbed in grinding on his thigh to consider that the placement of the various hickies you were sucking onto his neck was too high up for him to be able to hide them.

"Just got carried away." Strahm parroted your words in a low, dangerous whisper. He looked away for a moment, blinking like he always did when he was frustrated.

His gaze came back to rest on you.

"If I have to walk around with a collection of fucking hickies the size of a small country on my neck, you have to limp the rest of the week." He spoke slowly, spelling out your punishment with deliberate and weighted words.

It took you a few moments to connect the dots and figure out what Strahm had planned for you.

Oh , you thought, heart sinking and stomach twisting in on itself, he was going to absolutely break you.

***

Although Strahm had initially made you count every stinging slap that bounced off the walls of his apartment, after a certain point he’d given up on forcing you to speak. Hearing you gasp, whine, and beg him to ‘be gentle’ was far more enjoyable than listening to you struggle to count the number of times he’d hit your mottled ass. The collage of angry red slap marks was slowly turning into a mass of bruises, meaning you yelped even louder than before when he laid another spank across your ultra-sensitive flesh. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, bent over the back of the leather couch, hands tied behind your back, forced to endure slaps from both his hand and his belt. It could have been hours, or it could have been a measly twenty minutes. However, right now, you didn't have it in you to figure out which of those two options it was. Your brain had turned to mush, and you were only capable of letting out pathetic sounds and wincing.

“You learnt your lesson yet, hm? I don't think you’re going to be able to sit properly for at least a few days.” Strahm whispered to you, purposefully bending over you so the fabric of his slacks would grind against your raw skin. He was so hard that you could feel his cock pulsing in time with his quickened heartbeat. A feeble groan left your lips.

A hand gripped your hair and wrenched your lolling head up, turning it to the side so you were forced to look up at him.

“Answer.”

“Y-yeah, I have.” You said breathlessly. “Don’t even think I’m gonna be able to walk.”

Strahm chuckled, releasing your head, running a hand down your naked back. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps thanks to the coldness of his apartment.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It's just a little bit of bruising.” He said, drawing back from you to look at the ‘little bit of bruising’ covering the entirety of your backside and spilling onto your upper thighs.

You heard him walk away into another room, and you weakly tried to look at where he’d gone to. The pain warming your lower body seemed to radiate upwards, making every muscle ache like you’d simultaneously strained all of them. Turning your head to try to get a view behind you made you flinch.

Strahm returned, carrying a small bottle you knew all too well. He caught your gaze and saw your expression turn.

“Oh, you thought we were finished here?” He asked, his tone mocking and bitter.

He looked dangerous right now, with his cuffs rolled up over his forearms and a smirk on his face. The bottle lid was flipped open, and he squeezed some clear fluid onto his fingers. He was merciful enough to grip your calf rather than your thigh to shift your legs open.

A shiver ran through you as you felt the cold slimness of lube against your hole.

“Sorry darling, I know it's cold.”

That was the first bit of softness Strahm had shown you this evening, and the pet name made you squirm. However, the softness was short lived, as he circled your rim with his fingertips, making sure it was completely coated before he started to work his fingers past the tight ring of muscle. A glob of lube trickled down over your neglected cunt, sending another shiver through your body. You bit your already torn up lip as his two fingers filled you, sinking into the tight muscle of your ass until they were fully hilted in you. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before starting to scissor his fingers, working you open, reminding you that he was doing the bare minimum here to prep you.

The fingers slipped out of you, leaving your hole at least a little more pliable and loose than before. You listened as Strahm’s slacks hit the floor, and he stepped out of them. At this point, you’d totally resigned yourself to taking his punishment without complaint. The firm head of his cock, cold from the lube, pressed against your rim as a hand gripped your hip to keep you still. More pressure was applied until Strahm felt his crown breach the firm ring of your hole and delve into the velvety flesh of your insides. He watched himself sink into you, his dick standing out against the purple and red of your abused flesh, groaning as he felt himself fill you.

“P-please, it’s too much-” You stammered, pathetically trying to struggle away from him. The stretch of his thick, veined cock in your ass had jolted you out of your apathy.

The grip on your hip tightened.

“Yeah? Too much, huh?”

Strahm’s tone was practically poisonous. Like a prey animal, you froze.

He rammed the last two inches of himself into you, his hips colliding with your bruised backside, making you cry out like a struck dog. He held himself there, adjusting to the vice grip your ass had around him, so tight it was almost painful, purposefully grinding his skin against your own to elicit some more whimpers from you. Leaning over you, the silk of his tie brushed against your back, making your skin twitch.

“If it's too much, how come you are taking me” Strahm interrupted himself as he began to thrust into you, punctuating each word in the rest of his remark with a sharp snap of his hips. “So. Fucking. Well.”

He didn’t expect an answer, and you didn't give one, your mouth hanging agape as fresh tears welled in your eyes. It hurt like hell to have him stuffing his impressive length into a hole which had only ever taken the smallest size of plug you could find. Despite how badly the stretch of your walls stung, there was slick leaking between your thighs. He was stretching you out so well and rutting into with such force that it felt like he was literally re-arranging your guts. Each thrust elicited pain and pleasure in equal measure, as the slap of his hips against your ass made all the bruises and welts sting.

Strahm happily used you, taking all the frustration that had built up that day and letting it fuel the vigorous movements of his hips. It felt downright cruel to do this to you; however, he was hell-bent on ‘teaching you a lesson’ and making sure you had a limp that you, nor anyone around you, couldn't ignore. Besides, he could feel how wet you were every time his balls hit against your lips, so it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying the ‘lesson’ he was doling out.

It took a great deal of skill for Strahm to pull out before he exploded inside you. Although it would have been easier for him to just cum inside you, he had something else in mind for how he wanted this to end. Jerking his engorged and lubed-up dick over you, he let ropes of cum adorn your marked-up ass and puffy rim. The salt of his seed made the welts left from his belt sting, but you were too exhausted to even react to the discomfort.

Standing back from you, light-headed from his orgasm, Strahm admired the sight of you, slumped over the back of the couch, your legs limp and trembling. Judging by the colour of your cheeks and the way your hole stayed slightly open, he could confidently say that you’d be limping for as long as he had to deal with the mess on his neck.

An eye for an eye , Strahm thought as he offered you his arm to lean on as he led you to the bathroom to get you cleaned and patched up.

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