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Title: Just Enough
Author: [livejournal.com profile] eboniorchid
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Arthur Pendragon/Merlin Emrys
Prompt: "Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, enough" for [livejournal.com profile] mutelorelei on Comment Porn Month, Day 13: Spanking/Discipline.
Word Count: ~3400 words.
Rating: NC-17 for sexuality and language.
Warnings/Spoilers: Kink. BDSM. D/s. Impact play (spanking). First time. Virginity. Sadist!Arthur (just a hint). Slash. Smut. PWP. Comment!fic.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Sick of Merlin's worthless explanations, Arthur takes matters into his own hands, quite literally.
Author's Notes: Yay! My first Merlin!fic! Whee!



"Enough!" He pushed back from the table, grabbed the still-babbling boy by the scruff of his neck, and yanked him over his body and down until Merlin's nose nearly touched the floorboards, his feet flying free on the other side.

"Sire?" It was a strangled squeak, but at least it had momentarily stopped the meandering ridiculousness that always accompanied Merlin's explanation for absolutely everything.

"Yes, Merlin?" He pulled out his calmest, most patient tone, even as he rucked Merlin's shirt further up his back and began to yank down on his breeches, not entirely caring if they'd been tied loose enough to pull down without tearing or scraping painfully over Merlin's backside. Indeed, as they finally gave and shifted in fits and starts, he could see the drag of pink that their tightness was imparting, all the way up until they finally sagged an inch below Merlin's bottom.

"Umm. Not that I- … Well- … Arthurwhatareyoudoing?!" The last bit came out in a startled rush as Arthur set his hand firmly on his servant's rump.

"I'm not sending you to the stocks." Smack. "I'm not reporting this to my father." Smack. "I'm not even telling Gaius." Smack. "I've decided to punish you myself." Smack.

"Oh." Merlin couldn't seem to draw enough air as each breath was split by the sharp fall of his master's hand. "Oh. … Yes. … Um. … Thank you?" He squeaked again.

Arthur grinned and knew it was smarmy but simply didn't care. "Oh yes." Smack. "You will." Smack. "Thank me." He brought his hand down again, harder now. "And properly." Smack!

Merlin started to squirm, the daft boy, as the strikes landed hard enough to warm Arthur's palm with the start of a sting. "Um. Sire. It's really. Starting to- … umm … hurt."

"Really?" Arthur felt his brow fold into something sarcastically curious, even though his manservant couldn't see it. "I could've sworn …" Smack! "That punishments …" Smack! "Were supposed to …" Smack! "Feel nice!" Smack! He knew from the pained grunt Merlin made with the last strike that things were edging past annoyance for him, past warmth and a subtle ache toward actual pain, and if Arthur let himself think while he ramped up the force, he'd realize just how much he liked causing that.

"Sire, please." Now he was grunting with every hit, gasping in between each, and grinding down on Arthur's lap as if he could get a safe distance away in that direction.

"Hold still, Merlin. I will tell you when I'm done." SMACK!

Merlin cried out, his gasps stuttered on the edge of a sob, and lord above Arthur wanted to hear that again. SMACK! "Sire, please!" SMACK! "I'm sorry!" SMACK! He was sniffling now and Arthur could hear the tears as they clogged his throat and wet his face. "Sire, please!" SMACK!

Breathing hard, Arthur finally stopped, the loudest sounds in the room being Merlin's hitched and hiccoughed breaths. Looking down at the results of his work, Arthur was taken aback but also rather enthralled. Every bit of Merlin's bottom was red with splotches of pink around the edges and if the light wasn't playing tricks this early in the afternoon then there would be purple blooming in patches very soon. He watched, as if from a distance, as his still-hot striking hand explored its work tactilely, the darkest warm spots and the cooling pink that would likely fade back to something pale and smooth.

"Ar- … Arthur?"

He should answer the boy, he knew that, but he also knew that he was rigid beneath Merlin's hips and it wouldn't take much for Merlin to notice it too, idiot or not. "Did I say I was through?"

"N-no, sire." He sniffed loudly, so innocently unashamed, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder – not quite for the first time, though possibly the last – just how deep that innocence went.

He let his fingers skate down the cleft between the two glowing halves of Merlin's bottom, cataloguing every soft gasp and every subtle shift. "Merlin …" He began quietly, as if the boy wasn't already plenty startled. "Have you been with a woman?"

Merlin's body tensed under his hand, then shifted as he shook his head, mumbling breathily. "Not- … No, sire."

"A man?" He stopped brushing gently and pressed into the cleft, tapping a remarkably clean hole and forcing Merlin's stutter to strengthen.

"N-no, no … sire, I- …"

"Merlin, have you bathed recently?" Not that he was above sending the boy out for a bath, but that would take time that he didn't care to waste.

"Y-yes, I- … Yesterday, sire, you- … you said I smelled like- …"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Merlin, I know. I was there."

"Well- …"

"Shut up."

"Yes, sire. I just- …" Smack! His words ended in a yelp as Arthur lifted and dropped his hand once and then again for good measure.

"Say another word and we shall start again from the beginning."

Silence. Beautiful silence.

"Now then. I will set you aright. You will lock the door. And you will return here." Gripping Merlin's shoulder, Arthur hauled him back across his lap until Merlin could flounder himself back to standing, though the displacement of his pants, and possibly other things, made him wobbly. Arthur felt particularly pleased with himself as he saw part of Merlin's cock straining over the top edge of his pants. "Excellent!" He turned a laughing, roguish grin up to take in Merlin's eyes and found them bashfully sliding away as his cheeks heated to a winterberry red. "And not a word. Just the door and back."

Merlin nodded curtly and headed hesitantly for the door, his fingers clearly itching to pull his pants the rest of the way up as they curled and uncurled at his sides. With the door fully latched, though, he returned to his post, silent but for the anxious rush of his breathing.

"Disrobe."

Merlin shuddered from the word immediately, and the rapid-fire feedback of his own power nearly made Arthur dizzy. This was somehow nothing like a mid-evening romp with a scullery maid. Merlin was resisting out of modesty, it seemed, as well, though, and his hands were slow to remove each layer of clothes, despite the way his proud manhood betrayed him.

Arthur pushed up from his seat when Merlin was finally done, taking a step towards him even as Merlin took a nervous step back. He felt his lips quirk up on one side. "Undress me." He straightened up to his full regal height and waited. This wasn't new, no matter how naked Merlin was, and Arthur expected him to at least attempt to reach the piss-poor standards he usually reached when attending Arthur thus.

"Yes, sire." Merlin's eyes dropped from Arthur's face in a nearly deferential fashion that Arthur could scarcely say he'd seen before, but he stepped up and began carefully removing Arthur's jacket, his tunic, his boots, and his breeches. His fingers halted mere inches from Arthur's undergarments and he glanced up at Arthur, who could only grin at him, knowing that this would be a first, as usually Merlin was locating the next set of garments while Arthur fiddled with his smallclothes. Slowly, almost mesmerized, Merlin removed those as well and stepped back to stand bare before his naked master.

Funny, Arthur wasn't sure if he'd ever grinned this much in Merlin's presence before, though Merlin's silence might very well have much to do with it. "Merlin, come here."

Tentatively, Merlin took one step forward and then another, responding to the continued wagging crook of Arthur's fingers, gasping in surprise when Arthur finally wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, their skin and their cocks getting intimately acquainted.

Bending slightly, Arthur spoke against Merlin's odd little ear. "I did not give you leave to speak."

Merlin stiffened in his arms, but Arthur merely let his lips brush over the curves of that ear, willing him to relax.

"You will bear two more strokes for every word. Nod if you're clear." Merlin nodded. "Good." Arthur hesitated for a moment, much of him eager to drag the boy to bed and deflower him properly. He swallowed, though, thinking things through more than he really wanted to or had before this moment. "And … you can say no, if- …"

Merlin shifted closer, shaking his head as a timid hand fluttered onto Arthur's hip.

Arthur nodded, but clarified anyway, his voice softer. "I have no wish to harm you – not like this anyway."

Merlin nodded his understanding, his lips finding Arthur's collarbone and kissing, hesitant enough to make his lover shiver for the first time that night.

"Well alright then." He pulled Merlin with him toward the bed and then onto the bed and then under him and under the covers.

Merlin's hand trembled on Arthur's arm as he lay over him, their bodies meeting from ankles to hips as Arthur held himself up and looked down at his servantboy- … No, he shouldn't think of him that way if he was really going to do this properly.

"Merlin." He breathed the name and Merlin's wandering eyes found his again, bright with uncertainty as much as lust. "I'll go slow, alright? Just as far as you can go and no further tonight."

Merlin swallowed visibly, but nodded, continuing his stumbling caress up and down Arthur's arm.

"I'll get something to ease the way." He heard his own voice waver, beginning to feel the weight of this responsibility as Merlin looked up at him with such stark trust. It made him work to keep as much contact with Merlin as possible as he shifted toward the edge of the bed and rummaged in the bedside drawer, tugging out the vial of oil that Gaius had made for his muscle aches. It was slippery, which was his primary aim, but it was also pleasantly cooling and made his muscles relax, which he figured would be a good bonus in this case.

Kneeling up between Merlin's legs again, Arthur was shaken by how steel blue Merlin's eyes were and how much daylight was pouring in the windows to make them glitter like something he should lock away safe in the vaults. He wanted those nervous, beautiful, unsophisticated, perfect eyes to stay bright for him, to stay eager and full of joy. He had to do this right.

He went heavy on the oil, his fingers slippery with it, the sheets stained, but it meant he could b confident as the pads of his forefingers circled the tight hole before one began to press its way slowly in. There was a deep breath pulling into Merlin's lungs as if he could just keep inhaling until Arthur's finger was all the way in and it almost worked, but the angle was such that Arthur had to shift a little, bending over Merlin's chest and curling his finger upward as he pushed deeper in. The shift made Merlin's eyes shut tight, his hips shiver on the verge of bucking.

"Are you alright? Can I keep going?" His voice was the gentlest he'd ever let it be with Merlin, a tone usually reserved for crying womenfolk and unhappy infants. Still, he was happy when it was smooth enough for Merlin to nod after a few good breaths, though his body was resistant to the press of a second digit. "Relax. It's okay. There's no rush." He said the words, easy as sweet-cake, but his body was already strung tight and sweating with his efforts to hold back and take his time. It only took one glance down at Merlin's parted, panting mouth and eyes pressed closed at the intensity of sensation to remind him that this was a first time, though, that if there was ever to be a second or a third, even if with someone-bloody-else, then he had to guard Merlin's body well, even from himself if need be.

Eventually, the second finger worked its way in beside the first and with more coaxing, verbally and bodily, Merlin took in a third finger, his body hyper-responsive to every shift and tremor of Arthur's fingers inside him, his gasps becoming groans. It was the heat, he'd say later, if asked, but the energy they'd generated between them, whether heat or power or simple lust made Arthur's mouth pant down over Merlin's and envelope him in a first kiss that made them both moan, the easy press of parting lips leading the way for tongues to intertwine and teeth to scrape and pull and bite.

"Please." Merlin groaned against Arthur's lips, his hands slip-stopping down Arthur's sides until he could stir the courage to grasp Arthur's cock and squeeze.

"Bloody hell." Arthur growled, sucking Merlin's bottom lip hard enough to make it ache in return. How could he go courtly-slow if Merlin goaded him over it, begged him for it? Whisper-soft, but firm, Arthur pulled back enough to look into his lover's eyes. "Unhand me now, unless you wish to be made a man of."

Just the thought of it seemed to tip Merlin into another realm, his eyes fluttering closed as his hole pulled Arthur's fingers deeper and his hand squeezed Arthur's cock again. "Oh yes. Arthur yes. … I want to feel you in me."

Arthur groaned, suddenly aching for more contact everywhere, and he worked his fingers deeper and spread them wider as his free hand fumbled in the sheets for the vial, lifting it triumphantly so he could yank the cork out with his teeth and pour far too much of it over his thick and straining cock. Slowly, slowly, he pulled his fingers out, despite every protest from Merlin's body and every needy wordless noise from Merlin's mouth, then he took two strokes to spread the oil down his cock before setting it at Merlin's entrance and pushing slowly in.

Merlin made a high-toned sound at the end of his gasp like a bard at the start of a song and even though Arthur knew it was born from pain as well as pleasure, he didn't want to stop, wanted more, wanted Merlin to sing for him, a chorus of moans and pleas. The first tear took him by surprise, though, and he stopped with only just the crown of his cock seated in Merlin's overwhelming heat.

"Shall I stop?" By god, he hoped the answer was a 'no', but he wouldn't be so uncouth as to proceed if the answer was 'yes'.

Slotting back into obedience or maybe some pre-verbal state, Merlin shook his head strongly, working to open his eyes even though that let more tears fall. "Please more."

Arthur only narrowly held back his hips need to thrust at the sound of those words, but to quiet his own fluttering concerns and distract his partner from the growing ache in his system, he let his mouth go back to kissing. He started with Merlin's cheeks this time, continuing his slow drive forward even as he gently kissed and licked Merlin's tears away, his lips like barely-there butterfly over Merlin's shut eyelids and the ridiculously long lashes that made Arthur want to linger. He was more than halfway in and the tears had almost finished falling when he took up entertaining Merlin's luscious mouth again. It was obscene how soft it was, how pliant and warm and eager without trying to take the lead. Merlin let Arthur shift his head as he pleased with a strong hand in his hair and firm lips and tongue shaping him just so, teaching him all the ways one mouth could make another groan. Before either of them knew it, Arthur was fully sheathed inside Merlin's tight tunnel and they were both breathing, shaky and slow, into each other's mouths.

Arthur gave the boy a good while to adjust, an excruciating but somehow gorgeous experience for himself, just lying still and throbbing inside the fitted glove of Merlin's body until his mind was consumed with the need to move. He panted in anticipation as he began to shift outward. "Are you ready?"

Merlin nodded, flushed with lips kissed swollen, and Arthur groaned at the sight and the feel and the want as he dragged his cock partway out and made the journey deep again. Out slow and in slower. Out slow and in slower. It only took a few more thrusts before Merlin's hips were meeting his rhythm, rising to it and spurring him on, driving him faster, so Arthur gave him faster, in inches and minutes, but after a while the sweat soaked through his hair and dripped into the dark shine of Merlin's own sweat-drenched hair and his hips began to snap broken moans into and out of them both. He could feel the slip and rub of Merlin's trapped cock against his stomach and pulled back just enough to shove a hand between them and stroke it strongly with his thrusts, too far gone himself to smirk at the way Merlin's fingers bunched and tore at his sheets.

Merlin was truly writhing under him, though, eyes squeezed tight enough to press diamonds, back unsure if it needed to arch or twist, and in moments his mouth was spilling wordless shouts as his eyes flew open, glinting gold in the sunlight, and his cock twitched in Arthur's hand spurting seed in fits and starts as his body wracked itself in tremors. The tremors became an earthquake surrounding Arthur's cock and spilling bliss like storm-tossed waves into his system, his own eyes slamming shut and body arcing away as his hips thrashed and his cock pumped seed and more seed into the clenching hole swallowing him down.

He seemed to come back to his body slowly, from a long ways away, through a haze of blissful dreams and deliciously aching muscles, and when he finally collapsed forward onto Merlin he felt boneless – gloriously, amazingly boneless and sated.

"Now that- …" His tongue sounded thick, but right then he wasn't sure ifvhe cared. "Now that we are doing again." Sometime later in the quiet full of heavy breaths, he realized that his enthusiasm had sounded something like an order. "Right?"

Merlin was too quiet, too quiet for too long, but eventually he nodded. "Yes, Arthur. … If you'll have me."

Arthur chuckled, shifting to let his cock slip softly from Merlin's body, his legs slung each beside Merlin's left leg now. "Oh I'll have you alright." But right then, he would, instead, have a nap. Before he nodded off, though, he cleared his throat and regained some regal composure. "You did speak, though."

"What do you mean?" Merlin's thinking sounded just as blurred by sex-fed exhaustion, but Arthur had no intention of pardoning the boy.

"Before I was through. You spoke. Several times."

"Oh. … Sorry." He didn't quite sound genuinely sorry so much as the kind of sorry he was when he thought Arthur was being nonsensical.

"There were probably – what, a dozen words said?"

Now, Merlin turned to face him more directly, though they were far too close to get a proper look at anything but each other's well-mussed hair. "Arthur, really."

Nodding resolutely, Arthur proceeded with his estimate. "A dozen words at two strikes a word is twenty-four smacks."

"Twenty-four smacks of what?" He really did look rather endearing as he sleepily pushed at his clinging hair and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

"Twenty-four smacks of my hand on your backside." He let a breath path so it could sink in. "Tomorrow. That's how we'll start again tomorrow. Until you've learned your lesson." He arched an eyebrow as Merlin blinked at him, more surprised now but still bleary.

"And then what?" It was said with a pout, like a complaint over polishing boots, but it didn't make any sense.

Arthur tried not to raise his voice, despite swearing that Merlin would turn his hair prematurely grey. "Then what what, Merlin?"

"If I learn my lesson, how will we start then?"

Such a plaintive plea, verging on a frustrated sort of sad, wasn't something Arthur could be so cold as to laugh at. He just shook his head and gathered Merlin close under his nearest arm. "Don't worry, my little idiot, I'm sure we'll figure something out." Then he gently kissed his lover's forehead and burrowed them both into the bed for their well-deserved mid-winter, mid-afternoon nap.
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