Page 18 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

SHIVELY

The team doesn’t always celebrate holidays together when we’re traveling, though there have been times when we’ve gotten together as a large group to spend a meal together.

This year, we’re in Dallas for Thanksgiving.

Tomorrow, we play against Dallas, and yesterday we flew in from Minnesota, so instead of making the trip home, we’re here in Texas.

For the most part, my team broke up into smaller groups.

While I generally stay at the hotel and eat in the restaurant so any stragglers have somewhere to go, this time, I’m with Dasan.

As far as I know, he doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving.

I’ve never seen him with any of the groups as they do their thing for this particular holiday.

Once again, I’m waiting on my knees for him, naked and hard, but I’m not wearing a chastity device today. He doesn’t like to leave me in them overnight, for which I’m thankful. However, he told me to put my dick collar on.

It’s exactly like it sounds. It’s a leather collar that wraps around the base of my cock, behind my balls. It’s tight but not uncomfortably so, and the leather is soft against my skin.

I’m half hard because I’m always half hard knowing that Dasan is on his way to me. He likes when I’m hard for him. I’m supposed to be hard at the drop of a hat, ready for whenever he wants to enjoy me. That’s honestly not difficult at all. It’d be far more difficult if Dasan told me to stay soft.

Minutes tick by as I remain where I’m kneeling with my hands behind my back. I glance down at myself, noting how my midsection looks all frumpy like this. There aren’t rolls, exactly, but my skin folds in a way that makes me very self-conscious.

The days of a flat stomach are gone. The days of abdominal definition are long gone and were short lived. That’s a lot of work, and quite frankly, I don’t have that kind of dedication to my physique.

My thighs are probably one of the thickest parts of me. The most muscular. While I have never played hockey professionally, I’m often on the ice with my team during practices. Skating takes a lot of lower body and core strength. It’s about balance as much as it is strength.

All this to say, my thighs are thick, but in a good way, I think.

They’re thick with muscle. My dick lies to the right, not quite ready for attention but can be ready in seconds.

I’ve never been too insecure about my dick.

I mean, to some degree I am because we live in a world where too big or too small seem to be the only definitions of dicks.

Especially when what defines a “good-sized” cock is subjective, it’s hard not to be a little insecure. But as far as I’m concerned, my dick is fine. I’ve never had any complaints. I seem to know what I’m doing with it. Again, see my comment on no complaints.

Has Dasan commented on it, though? Does he like my dick? How does the size hold up for him? I lean to the side a little as I chew the inside of my lip. What about my balls? Are they considered old man balls yet? Do they sag? Are they wrinkly? What does Dasan think of them?

I pull my eyes up and look straight ahead, staring at the door. Wow. Talk about being insecure for absolutely no reason at all. Dasan enjoys looking at me. He likes how I look. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself of this and refuse to look down again. My dick is fine the way it is!

It’s not like I can change the size, anyway. I was born with what I have. Is there even such a thing as surgery to make a dick bigger when hard? How does one go about that? Hey, Doc. I’d like two more inches in my erection. Can you recommend a surgeon?

What am I even saying? My dick is fine!

I’m really fucking thankful when I hear the beep at the door. A sense of relief washes over me because with Dasan here, I won’t be stuck in my head with all these weird body issues that I’ve never had before. I don’t even know why I have them now.

Dasan steps inside, and I swear I can see the weight that’s been on his shoulders for a few days. It’s almost visible. Something has been bothering him, but I don’t know what it is. He won’t tell me, and I’m not pushing because that’s not what a good sub does. That’s not a good omega.

His eyes meet mine when he steps inside, and my heart races when I see the small incline of his lips. My alpha.

I’m still not entirely sure what this whole alpha/omega thing is since we haven’t gotten around to reading one together.

But out of all the things we’ve called each other over those weeks, I really love the way these two sound.

They’re perfect. They feel right. I love the way he’s obsessively turned on when he calls me his omega, especially during sexy things.

“Hello, sweet omega,” Dasan says, his voice quiet and seductive. Fuck. That sounds good.

“Hi, Alpha,” I greet in return. It sounds breathless.

“I have food arriving. A celebratory meal.”

“I didn’t think you celebrate today,” I say.

Dasan shakes his head as he sits in the chair. My heart races because he hasn’t touched me yet. Why? I glance down at myself, wondering if he doesn’t like how I look today.

Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I even thinking this way?

It’s the distance he’s keeping right now. That’s what’s wrong. It’s feeding into this weird vulnerable moment that I don’t understand.

“I don’t,” Dasan says. “If I celebrate anything, it’s the National Day of Mourning, though calling it a celebration is a little misleading. It’s an acknowledgment more than anything.”

“I’m not familiar with that,” I admit.

He smiles as he nods his head, but it’s not a happy smile. “I’m not surprised. Unless you have a connection to the indigenous people of America, not many people have heard about it.”

I wince. “I’m sorry.”

Dasan shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t be frowned upon because you haven’t been educated about it.”

I’m not sure if I’m just in a dark place, but I feel even worse now that I know I don’t know much about… Dasan. His culture. I look at him and know that he’s of indigenous descent. There’s no mistaking that. But what I know otherwise is hockey.

I’ve never asked.

“Where did you go just now?” Dasan asks.

My shoulders fall. “I realized that I don’t know anything about you, and I feel like an awful person because of it.”

He nods slowly, which makes my heart race. Fuck, is he upset with me now?

“Come closer,” he says. “Bring your pillow over here and kneel in front of me, omega.”

I do as I’m told. Dasan spreads his legs, so I take that as instruction to get really close. My knees are almost touching the chair he’s sitting in.

His fingers touch my jaw, and I stare into his dark eyes.

“We mourn the loss of our ancestors, our land. The culture that was taken from us and that we still fight to preserve today. We mourn that our culture is commercialized, as if we’re a commodity and not a real people.

It’s a day to educate and dispel myths about the Thanksgiving story.

We try to raise awareness of the historical and ongoing struggles facing indigenous people in the US.

It’s not surprising that it’s not well known because it challenges the lies that American kids are taught in school and raised to believe. ”

“I didn’t know there was something else going on today,” I admit.

He nods. “I know. I can’t be mad at you or anyone for not knowing. You shouldn’t be punished and looked down upon simply because you don’t know.”

“For the record, I do know that the story we’re told in school is a half-truth. I guess… I guess I never looked for the whole truth.” Yep, I feel like a shitty person today.

Dasan studies me. He doesn’t answer as he looks into my eyes. “Are you comfortable on your knees, Shiv?”

I nod.

“You’re not feeling sore?”

I shake my head. “No, Alpha.”

“You are to tell me if you are ever sore or stiff. Am I clear?”

I nod again. “Yes.”

“Good. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

My eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“You looked upset when I walked into the room. Tell me why.”

I blow out a breath, letting the air puff out my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was feeling self-conscious.” My words are quiet. My cheeks burn.

Dasan frowns. “About what?”

Swallowing, I glance down for a second. “My body.”

He sighs and leans back. “Come here. Climb on my lap. Straddle me.”

I do as I’m told. Dasan’s hands grip my ass cheeks, and he pulls me closer. My breath catches.

“Do you know why I expect and keep you naked in my presence?” he asks.

“Power exchange?” I answer.

He shrugs one shoulder, nodding. “Yes, there’s that, but that hadn’t been my first thought.

Keeping you on your knees, keeping your cock locked up, breeding your sweet, slutty hole until I’m satisfied, regardless of whether you’re finished or not, not allowing you to orgasm—all of those are sufficient forms of power exchange. ”

“Oh.”

“I keep you naked so I can look at your body any time I want. I love your body, Shiv. You’re sexy as fuck. Every last inch of you is sexy as fuck. I love everything about you. I’d never change a thing if asked.”

My inhale struggles, though I’m not sure why. I glance down at my body. My stomach specifically. “Really?” I ask, trying to keep the doubt from my voice.

Dasan releases me and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his sexy fucking chest and stomach. He touches my stomach, making my heart nearly beat out of my chest when he follows the line where my skin rolls. Then he pulls my hand to his stomach, dragging my hand across it.

“Stop, Shiv,” he says quietly. “Look at me. Look at where your hand is.”

My eyes drop obediently, and I follow the progress of my fingers across his stomach. I love his stomach. So smooth. So sexy.

“You’re only seeing what you think you’re seeing. Not what’s actually there, Shiv,” he says, voice still quiet. “Look at my stomach. Look at the lines your fingers are touching right now.”

It takes me a minute, and then… I see that his skin folds like mine. Maybe not as much, but it still folds. My eyes flick up to his. He’s watching me.

“That’s just how the body works. I think you know that though, don’t you?”

Now that he points it out… yes. I do know that. Seriously, what’s wrong with me today?

“There’s nothing wrong with your body, omega. You’re beautiful. All of you.”

“My dick is okay?” I blurt before I realize the words have come out of my mouth. And now I want to crawl under the bed.

Dasan continues to look at me. He doesn’t look at my dick but keeps my gaze trapped in his. I’m going to melt. I’m going to die from embarrassment.

His hand wraps around my cock, making me jump, but I immediately harden under his touch. My breathing becomes ragged almost right away. My skin still feels hot, though. I’m still mortified by my question and even more concerned with the answer.

What if he doesn’t like the size of my dick?

“What happened?” Dasan asks as he grips the back of my neck and pulls me forward so my face is in his. My hands land on his shoulders to keep my balance. “What happened today to make you so insecure about your body?”

I shake my head. “I-I don’t know,” I stammer. “I was looking at myself as I waited for you, and I guess I wasn’t sure if you liked what you saw.”

His expression softens. “Shiv.” His lips brush mine in that soft way of his. Even more than when he kisses me deeply, these soft kisses take my breath away, and I always struggle to take another.

“We’re going to work on your self-image. I’m going to work on making sure you understand just how beautiful you are to me. You’re not lacking anything. You’re not almost perfect. You’re not in need of improvements anywhere. Not for me. Am I clear?”

I nod. “Yes, Alpha,” I whisper.

“However, if you want to do something to make you feel better about yourself, I will support that in any way I can. Is that something you want?”

I glance at my stomach, the hair on my body, his hand slowly stroking my cock. “Do you… really like my dick?” I ask.

“Are you asking because I don’t touch you often enough?”

Am I? Is that why I’m insecure all of a sudden? “I don’t know,” I admit as I watch his hand move over me. “Maybe?” I shake my head. I can’t say with any confidence one way or another.

There’s a knock at the door, and I jump, eyes going wide with panic. Oh fuck. I can’t open the door like this!

“Easy, omega,” he murmurs and presses his lips to mine. “It’s food. Remember?”

Oh. Right. Though that doesn’t quite settle my heart or the barely under control panic in my chest.

“Get on the bed. On your knees. Wait for me.”

I nod and do what I’m told as Dasan gets the door. As soon as the door opens, I can smell the food. It’s… unfamiliar. I listen to Dasan’s voice as he interacts with the delivery man. Then he’s back in the room with a large paper bag.

“It’s nice that we’re close to some family friends who cater today with meals that have been with our people for hundreds of years,” Dasan says as he sets the bag on the table. “Including my two favorite dishes—roast buffalo and corn soup. Have you had either?”

I shake my head. “I’m looking forward to trying them.”

He smiles as he comes toward me, then he climbs onto the bed, facing the same direction I am, except that he lies down.

“Come here, sweetheart. Sit on my face. Let me show you how much I love your dick.”

“But… what about the food?”

“It’ll stay hot for quite some time. Don’t make me tell you again, omega.”

I scramble to Dasan and awkwardly, so fucking self-consciously, straddle his face. I think my entire body is going to burn.

His hands grip my thighs as he shifts himself into the position he wants, then his mouth is on my balls. I groan, heat surging through me.

“I’m going to worship your cock until you’re convinced I love what you have, Shiv. So if you want to eat, you best figure it out, sweetheart.” Before I can answer, his mouth closes around my cock and my moan fills the room.