Page 19 of Fire & Ice

“No, Sir.”

Interesting. A much less cavalier response than the last time—Tripp is appropriately nervous now, and Leander is extremely pleased. “Stand. Lay on the bed, face-up, with your head just over the edge of the side I’m standing on—yes, exactly like that. Good boy.” Leander praises Tripp as he clamors to obey, appreciating the curve of his ass and the flex of the muscles in his back as he climbs onto the elevated mattress and works himself flat.

Part of this scene involves keeping Tripp on his toes by forcing him to hold his head up. Hecanallow it to fall back,of course, and it won’t even be particularly painful or much of a punishment if he does, but it won’t be comfortable, either. With nothing underneath to support it, Tripp will be constantly pulled to thinking about his head and neck, to the blood rushing in opposite directions and deciding whether to endure the strain or let it drop. It’s an additional mess of sensations that he’ll have to war with, in addition to the rest of the onslaught Leander is planning.

Once Tripp is in position, Leander tugs loose a cuff that’s attached to the post at the bottom of the bed, and another from the post at the top. He secures the first to Tripp’s left wrist and the second to his right. When that’s done, he adjusts each restraint length so that Tripp’s arms are extended straight out to the sides. They stretch parallel along the line of the bed, only an inch or so of mattress separating the tops of his arms from empty space.

“Comfortable?” Leander murmurs, slipping a finger beneath the bindings and assessing Tripp’s fingers to ensure that the cuffs are secure, but not so tight that function or circulation is impeded.

“I guess,” Tripp huffs, clearly just being difficult and not actually unsure, but Leander grabs him by the hair anyway.

“Youguess?” he growls. “Color, Tripp.”

“Green, Sir,” Tripp replies quickly, contrite as Leander raises his eyebrows and casts him a warning look. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Better,” Leander allows, before returning to his work.

It’s entertaining to watch Tripp wriggle in place, testing his restraints and simultaneously trying to figure out what to do with his head, although Leander tries his best not to show exactly how amused he is. Instead, he grabs the silk blindfoldleft out for this purpose and folds it slowly, intentionally, drawing out the moment. He patently ignores the way Tripp squirms below him, starting to show the budding signs of impatience.

Sweet, summer child.

When the fabric has been secured around Tripp’s eyes (and tested), Leander moves to the other side of the bed. There, he shoves a pillow underneath Tripp’s ass in order to elevate it for easier access, before securing both of his ankles in a similar fashion to his wrists. Satisfied, he steps back to survey his kingdom, a thoughtful hand stroking his chin.

Just seeing Tripp tied up and helpless, willingly putting himself at Leander’s mercy,doesthings to him. The feeling is far from unexpected and it isn’t wholly unfamiliar, but it’s also notexactlythe same as his Dom experiences from the past. Sometimes with Autumn, Leander would work through an entire scene without so much as getting hard. Sometimes, he would get her off and completely forget about himself, because it was thecontrolhe was there for, first and foremost. The sex was always a bonus or a side-effect—and an unnecessary one, at that.

This, though. This is something different. Tripp’s body isinterestingto Leander in ways that no one else’s has ever been. It produces sensations in his own being, awakens feelings and instincts he was never entirely sure he possessed. Just seeing Tripp naked—knowingthat he’s allowed to have him, totakehim, any way he might desire—not only has Leander hard in his boxers, it forces the blood to flow definitively away from his brain.

It’s very possible that lack of oxygen is making him hazy and silly, but just for a moment, Leander wonders why they’rebothering with all this other stuff when they could just befucking.

Thankfully, he comes back to himself before he does something stupid. After all, that “other stuff,” is what Tripp is here for, and Leanderneedsto stay on track. This is where his own BDSM experience becomes salient, allowing him to easily pivot back to the task at hand, completely second-nature, as well as serving to keep him focused on what’s important. Leander can do this—he can definitely do this, he wasmadefor it.

Climbing up onto the bed, Leander straddles one of Tripp’s thighs and runs a single finger down through the valley separating his pecs. Splayed out beneath him, Tripp shivers a little and pulls his bottom lip in-between his teeth.

“Color, Tripp?” Leander asks.

“Green, Sir,” Tripp replies breathlessly, biceps flexing as he inadvertently tugs on his restraints.

“Hmm,” is all Leander replies. Glancing over the remaining items he has laid out on the bed, Leander selects a small feather duster, flipping it over in his palm to tickle the soft end across Tripp’s bare skin. It has the intended effect—at first, it makes Tripp laugh, loosening him up a little, but after a minute or two, the too-light sensations have him squirming and sighing, murmuring about being ticklish.

Down on Tripp’s thigh, his shy-from-nerves, half-hard cock begins to plump up fully with the distraction. Leander doesn’t even need to touch it to get him all the way there, he just flicks the duster around Tripp’s various sensitive areas and grins at his own cleverness.

“I enjoy seeing you like this,” he tells Tripp, who exhales pointedly. “So docile and compliant. So open and beautiful. Your body,” he continues, leaning down to press a kiss to Tripp’ssternum, to let his open mouth drag greedily over Tripp’s firm abdomen, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and lips in its wake. “It’s stunning,” he tells Tripp’s belly button, “You are an incredible creature, so deserving of my affection, my attention.”

Unsurprisingly, Tripp grunts dismissively beneath him. Leander suspects that his face has turned fire engine-red, his lip probably close to bleeding from biting down hard enough to resist talking back. Amazingly, he does manage to keep his mouth shut and Leander rewards him, knowing full-well how hard that must have been for his self-deprecating sub.

“Good boy,” he says approvingly, before opening his mouth and taking Tripp’s erection in nearly to the root, swallowing firmly around him not once, but twice.

The muscles in Tripp’s thighs spring taut and he groans, not expecting the intense stimulation and therefore, not remotely ready for it. Leander pulls off with a wet pop, wipes his mouth, and says, “Don’t youdarecome.” He sits back on his heels and watches with satisfaction as Tripp struggles and pants but wrests himself back under control rather impressively quickly. Running a hand up Tripp’s thigh, Leander decides that he’s ready to move forward.

“Don’t forget,” he reminds Tripp. “You may comeonlywhen I say so, but you may beg all you like. In fact, you must, if you want to obtain my permission.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tripp acknowledges, his words already breathy and wonderfully needy.

After obtaining the lube and the vibrator again, Leander gets his fingers around the base of Tripp’s plug and toys with it a little, working it against his rim. In and out, occasionally leaning forward to swirl his tongue over the crown of Tripp’s cock, just to be a tease. Tripp responds beautifully, sighing and moaningquietly, tugging at his restraints and wiggling his ass as best as he can. There’s no reason to admonish or encourage him to stay still—Leander’s rather enjoying how affected Tripp is, and besides, there’s quite literally nowhere for him to go.

The plug slips out and Leander sets it aside, slicking up his fingers and prodding Tripp’s hole himself, wanting to draw out the teasing before allowing him the vibrator. He slips two digits inside easily, sweeping them around until he locates Tripp’s prostate. A firm press of his fingers has the man arching right up off the bed—as much as he’s able—and Leander draws the moment out, entertained.

“That was impressive, for being tied up,” he teases, and Tripp moans, doing his best to rock down onto the fingers but getting absolutely nowhere. “Now, now,” Leander scolds. “Patience. Or, at least tell me what you want.”

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