[There's a rare grin on Corrigan's face, the type that has only been seen by a handful of people, equal parts amused, delighted and fond. He stands in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed, already feeling the stress and anxiety of the day ebbing away.] "Hanging out", huh? [He repeats it teasingly, rolling his shoulders back a couple times before stepping into the conference room and closing the door behind him. Ginger should keep the rest of the employees away, for a bit (and probably is already arranging to have the room disinfected once they're done. The two of them tend to get a bit messy when they play.)
With each step forward, Corrigan slips further out of his benign business persona and deeper into who he is around Kurt -- sharper, stricter, ready to administer punishment and reward, as a benevolent, yet firm master should. By the time he's close enough to reach out and run his fingers over the ropes, the smile is gone.] If you're truly not bored, I could always go. Leave you to your solo pastime.
[Satisfied that the ropes are tied well enough to restrain and force good posture, but that there's no immediate danger of circulation loss (and, of course, that there are safety shears resting on one of the nearby chairs), Corrigan hooks his fingers under the rope crossing Kurt's chest, tugs him forward, close enough that when he speaks, it's soft and hot and inches from the young man's mouth.] After all, you had someone help you get up here, didn't you? Perhaps you'd like to have more fun that way. Let someone else keep touching what's mine.
[All the pain and suffering he's about to (happily) endure is all worth it, just for that grin. That look Corrigan gets on his face when he's trying not to laugh at something silly Kurt just said, even though he wants to, because it would break the illusion of their play. Sure, Corrigan smiles like that all the time when they're alone, when they're partners, but when it peeks out during play? In those few couple moments between Corrigan and Master? Kurt lives for that.
It disappears as quickly as it comes. That's fine. Knowing he's made Corrigan happy will keep him going for the rest of the scene.]
Well... I-I, uh... [His body moves without his doing, Kurt gasping sharply as he's pulled forward, tasting Corrigan's breath as he speaks a soft threat. He's already shivering, a flush spreading from ear to ear.]
I... I figured you'd appreciate a wrapped up little surprise. A-At the end of a long day at work. [The hour and a half day at work since Kurt saw him last, leaving the conference room.] This is for you, Master. N-No one else, I swear.
[For years and years, Corrigan had rolled his eyes at the insistence from friends that sex is better with feelings, so certain that it couldn't possibly be. Not when sex by itself was so interesting, so enjoyable and pleasant and surprising. Then, of course, Kurt had happened, had completely taken apart every assumption Corrigan had and put it back together into something brilliant. The throb of fondness and adoration that pulses in his chest, even when he's fully in his dominant space, is just as addictive as the eagerness and creativity that Kurt brings to every scene, every moment, every wide-eyed, faux-innocent breathy word.
Corrigan tightens his grip on the ropes and licks his lips and it's I love you without words. Because his actual words are much dirtier, much less sappy and romantic, giving not the slightest thought to the fact that they're in an unlocked conference room.] You say that as though I couldn't have you wrapped up and ready for me at any time, with only a word. Or...unwrapped, as it may be.
[Then he cocks his head to one side, as if considering, his free hand reaching up to cup Kurt's cheek, to stroke over his lower lip, gently.] Though I'll admit there is...a pleasing efficiency to having my work done for me. To simply be able to begin, without the inconvenience of setup. [His thumb dips forward, coaxes into Kurt's mouth, just to hear his breath stutter, to make him that little bit more helpless.] I could do anything I like to you right now, couldn't I?
[Great minds think alike, turns out. When they met, Kurt thought the exact same way. The only thing feeling for you was heartbreak and disappointment - why mix that with sex and ruin a perfectly good thing? Turns out feelings, trust, communication, only enhances the experience. Sharpens the high. Nothing makes the thrill of sex better than catching those unspoken I love yous, than breaking character for a moment to giggle or kiss or gaze into each other’s eyes, than being wrapped up in each other and knowing you’re safe and warm and sharing a space crafted in tandem, uninvaded, private and intimate and warm.
Nothing feels more exhilarating than that sweet, sweet contrast of Corrigan’s hand tenderly caressing his face, and his harsh, filthy words spoken in that silky baritone. This is just for the two of them. Perfect - Kurt hates sharing.
He lets Corrigan’s thumb into his mouth without protest, without resistance, the press of his finger on his tongue making his breath catch in his throat, a pitchy little moan immediately following. Kurt loves being made helpless like this. Adores being made to feel so small - yet somehow, the only thing Corrigan has eyes for.]
Y-Yes. [He whines, lisp worsened by the finger in his mouth.] Yes, a-anything, anything you want, M-Master. That’s... wh-what good little toys are for. Ready to p-pick up and play. Right?
Mmmmm. [Corrigan curls his thumb a little, presses against Kurt's tongue to push his mouth open wider, loving that hitch in his breath, the way he's so eager, so obedient, so desperate to please.] You already know the answer to that question, don't you. [He slides his hand away, but grabs Kurt's collar instead, dragging him forward to kiss him, messy and greedy and careless, taking advantage of his already-open mouth. Corrigan lazily licks inside, bites at Kurt's lower lip, humming in approval.]
But you're too greedy, baby. [It's almost purred, when Corrigan pulls back for breath finally, licking Kurt's taste off his lips.] I can feel you trying to get free, how you want to touch me so badly. You want too much, too fast. That's why you need these. [He runs a finger under the rope across Kurt's chest, then reaches up to tug harshly at the rope attached to his collar, forcing him to arch his back or choke.] You need to learn self-control.
[Kurt surrenders so easily to Corrigan's thumb pressing his tongue down, Corrigan's mouth sealing over his own, Corrigan's teeth teasing at his scarred lower lip, playing right into his hands without care or regret. It just feels so good, being at his mercy. So completely at his mercy he can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything without his Master's guidance and approval.
It's exactly the kinda cliche fetish a semi-control freak like Kurt Hummel would find himself having.
So the stern, harsh assessment that he needs to show more control comes as a bit of a surprise. Or maybe it's just the sudden yank at his collar that startles him, a soft choked noise followed by deep, shaky breaths escaping him.] Y-Yes, Master. Of course, Master. [He straightens as best he can, tries to keep his arms from reaching, tries to hold his head up high enough to breathe comfortably. He's so turned on he can barely see straight, but he forces himself to. Just for him.]
All I ever want is to please you, my M-Master. I-- I can be in control of myself. I'll sh-show you.
[It's perhaps a testament to how deep into this whole -- everything they both are, that things can still be surprising, that they haven't become stale or routine. Granted, Corrigan has a never-ending supply of potential things to try, and he's smitten enough that even missionary sex with the lights off is appealing, if it's with Kurt. Maybe it's because that high, shaky whine in Kurt's voice always sends a jolt of wanting right down to his gut. Maybe it's because he can't ever get accustomed to how prettily Kurt begs.
Corrigan moves slightly, presses his lips just above the harsh line of leather from the straining collar.] You please me. [It's very soft, a tiny gift of approval, of praise, like the fingers Corrigan hooks under the ropes, knowing Kurt will follow and obey eagerly, if only for the promise of more.
But Corrigan's hand is still on the rope that leads to the collar, and it presses down harder, removing any slack, wanting to hear Kurt's breath grow raspy, hear that hitch of desperation to breathe.] You also had me interrupted during a very important meeting because you couldn't wait one moment more to have me pay you attention. Does that sound like someone who's in control?
[A pause, then Corrigan's free hand is sliding down, between Kurt's legs, pressing hard with the heel of his hand where he's hard.] Does this?
[Though it's so small, barely there, Kurt lets the touch of praise from his Master seep into every joint in his body, lets it soak through muscle and marrow with such an intense, searing heat it's impossible to ignore. It'll be enough to keep him going for hours, knowing he is pleasing the other.
He'll need it. Corrigan's grip on the rope tightens, pressing harder, and even as taut as his spine is, Kurt feels himself choking on his own collar. Tilting his head back as far as the rope will allow, he's able to breathe just barely, throat rasping and complaining with every inhale. He relishes the taut, punishing position, how the struggle for air makes his thoughts feel cloudy, his vision spotting at the edges, his focal point becoming pinpricks. It's exhilarating, just veering on dangerous - but of course, at this point, Kurt knows his own limits. If he becomes truly afraid, if he can't breathe, he'll signal to stop. No questions asked. They trust, they communicate, they work together. They also push each other, toeing at boundaries, challenge each other every day.
Today is his day. Corrigan's palm presses against the bulge in his underwear, and he whines, hips canting forward into that maddening touch on pure instinct. Kurt is certainly not in control.]
No! N-No, Master, you're right, it-- it doesn't. I'm-- hah! I'm so sorry, Master.
[He tries to draw a lungful of breath, his usual strategy for regaining composure, one he's being denied. How does he regain control of his body, how does he fix this egregious error...]
Would-- W-Would you want to r-resume your meeting, Ma-- Master? I-- I'll be st-still as a mouse, you won't know I'm here, p-please, please let me prove it to you, Master. Anything Master wants, a-anything.
[Corrigan pretends to consider, keeping his hand where it is, not applying any more or any less pressure, even as Kurt's hips shudder forward. His other hand loosens the grip on the rope slightly, allows the oxygen to seep back into Kurt's lungs, allows him a moment to recover. The meeting is long since adjourned -- and it really wasn't that important, truly, though it wasn't the first one Corrigan's abruptly left with a vague excuse. There's definitely a rumor going around that he's Batman.] Hmmm, a tempting offer...but that would give you time to compose yourself, wouldn't it? An hour, two, to get yourself under control, to really practice being calm and collected.
[He shakes his head, sadly, palming over the bulge in Kurt's underwear, slowly at first, then slowly adding more pressure, the way he knows Kurt likes it, the friction just right, just enough.] That's not terribly impressive, is it? I think it'd be a much better show of how good you can control yourself if I had my fun with you just...like...this...
[Corrigan slips his hand up, then, sliding his fingers under the elastic and over the hot, hard flesh, stroking Kurt slow and teasing and coaxing.] ...and you managed not to come. Do you think you could do that? Do you think you could hold back, even when I do allll the things you like?
[Shit damn fuck, he's right. Too easy, too convenient. Kurt sucks down greedy lungfuls of air the second he's able to, shivering as his pulse picks up, as Corrigan's hand presses against him harder, more insistently. The younger man moans, trying and failing to stop himself. It just feels so good, so hot, just the way Kurt likes it, and he's completely powerless to stop it. No wriggling away, no crossing his legs or clenching his thighs to get away from his touch.
That's, of course, part of what makes it so hot.]
I-- Y-You're right, that's not--
[Words crumble like ash on his tongue when Corrigan's warm, bare fingers touch him directly, his touch slow, warm, almost gentle, tender enough to take Kurt completely off-guard. It takes conscious effort not to dribble saliva on the table - he's moaning his pleasure so much he's forgetting to swallow. A pathetic show of control. Kurt has to do better, he has to reel himself in, fingers clenching into tight fists, nails digging into his palms.] Yes. I-- Y-Yes, I think I could. I thi-- I know I can. I'll show you, M-Master, I swear, I'll show you, I'll please you. I'm in control. I-I'm in control.
There's my boy. [It's soft, almost cooed, and it'd likely be embarrassing or condescending in any other circumstance. But it strikes genuine, rather than patronizing, even accompanied by Corrigan's warm hand stroking and teasing. Normally touching like this would be a reward, a signal of the end of a scene, the build-up to a long-awaited, luxurious climax. Instead it's part of the test, to see if Kurt can override his own physical need by willpower alone. It'll be tricky, especially considering how many, many times Corrigan's made Kurt come with just his hands alone.
However, it's clear that he isn't going to stick to a handjob -- not when he's gotten Kurt's solemn promise that nothing is going to make him break. Corrigan picks up the shears, which are shaped so they're less a point and more an angle, to make it easier to slide between skin and rope. Or, in this case, between skin and cloth. A few careful snips are enough to shred whatever clothing Kurt has on -- hopefully nothing he's too attached to -- and Corrigan carefully pulls it free, so there's no barrier between Kurt's skin and the ropes, so he's completely naked besides his restraints.]
Since you seem to like being put on display, I thought you'd like it if we went one step beyond. [He muses idly, carefully tightening the knots to allow for the bit of slack that's been created by the now-ruined clothes.] Because that's what you truly want, hm? You like being like this, nude and bound up for my pleasure, don't you? You don't care if anyone sees, you just want them to know you're mine.
[Even if it had sounded condescending, which it so often does when they play, Kurt would have read it as praise. Corrigan's word is law, his only tether, he clings to them with fearless devotion through the whole scene and then some. When he gets to this place, pliable and eager and heightened, so ready to charge head-first into whatever they've planned, only Master's words matter.
He's right - it will be tricky. Kurt's only managed to do it a few times, and that took months of training. Usually only works if he gets to come earlier in the scene, but there's no such luxury today. Only his bound, suspended body, high-strung and aching for release, and Corrigan's deft fingers.]
I... [Kurt's eyes find the glass door to the conference room as Corrigan shreds his underwear. No frosted glass, tinted window nonsense here, just crystal clear glass, his compromised position visible to anyone who passes the room. There have been a handful. Thankfully, Corrigan locked the door before leaving for his oh-so-important meeting, but both employees and clients have done double-takes when walking by, a couple of them lingering, taking a fuller look at the young collared man suspended, one man in a suit even taking a picture (which Kurt knows will be deleted and scrubbed from social, the Hotel is very strict). He'd even met Ginger's teasing knock at the door with a flirty grin.
It wouldn't be honest to say he's uncomfortable with the attention. If he said it was humiliating, a turn-off, that it frightened him, he'd be scolded and punished for lying. The ropes tighten around his hips, thighs, ankles, and Kurt moans, knowing he's on complete display.] That's right, Master. I want them to see. I w-want them to know what it takes t-to please you. Want them to see what I have. [A pause.] That no one else gets to have you. O-Or me.
Damn right. [Corrigan says it smugly, almost cheerfully, tightening the rope around Kurt's hips a fraction of an inch, then smacking his ass, not hard enough to truly hurt, or even leave a mark, but enough that he knows Kurt will jump. His big hand is already rubbing at the reddened skin, soothingly, other hand steadying the rope running from the ceiling. He knows perfectly well that Kurt would safeword if the scene was truly too much, if it pushed him too far beyond his limits. It's clearly veering close, evident in the way Kurt blushes and squirms in his restraints, but it isn't too much. Not yet.
Turning away, Corrigan fishes his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick, no-nonsense text to the front desk and other staff to stay away from the conference room. Just a little extra security -- not that he's telling Kurt, per se. Part of the thrill is the younger man not knowing if someone will come by, if they'll see.
That item taken care of, Corrigan returns to lazily stroking his fingers up and down Kurt's spine, tracing along the smooth edges of the firmly-tied ropes, ghosting over where he knows his pet is the most sensitive.] And what would you like them to see? How far would you like me to go, right here, right where anyone could come and watch? How much do you think you can withstand, hm? [His hand is dangerously low again, smoothing up over Kurt's stomach, the jut of his hip.] Could you take my hands on you? My mouth? I'll let you choose how far you'd like me to push you.
[See, here's the thing: Kurt has always been ambitious to a fault. An all-or-nothing kind of man. He may twitch and moan and try to arch his body into the hand loudly smacking his ass like some overeager schoolboy right now, but he knows better than to go all-in and overextend himself the way he used to when this first started. Gone are the days of only applying to one college, or gritting his teeth through hours of punishing kneeling, letting his pride get in the way of reason.
There's a lot he's had to learn about his body, his limits, and what kind of expectations he can reasonably set for himself. And yes, they like to push each other, challenging each other all the time, but not to a point where he's bound to fail. What's the fun of a challenge if you know you don't stand a chance?
Case in point, Corrigan's generous offer. Kurt won't last for long with his Master's mouth on him, even though the challenge is so so tantalizing. If he could conquer that, the adrenaline rush alone would send him flying. But he's already being challenged, isn't he? Suspended, straining, exposed, in pain - major turn-on, he's been hard for ages already - and expected to edge himself with no direct tactile control. Sounds like a challenge and a half already.
Kurt makes up for going with the easier option by giving Corrigan some sass. Wouldn't want to give Master the impression he's slacking off.]
Mmm, a-are you setting me up for failure, Master? [He smirks, breathless, tongue passing teasingly over his lip. Corrigan's teasing brush of warm fingers makes him shiver happily.] You know I can't resist that gorgeous mouth. I'd love f-for anyone walking by to see me come all over your face, Master, but that's not very becoming, is it? At least give me a chance to impress you. Y-Your hands, please, Master. I can take it.
Never. [Corrigan chuckles fondly, ducking to press a warm, lingering kiss at the base of Kurt's spine, a teasing almost-refusal to abide by the rules. The temptation is there, to ignore and give the exact opposite of what Kurt had requested, but he knows full well that the game would be over much too quickly if he did that. Not to brag (a lie; always bragging), but Corrigan's blowjob skills are fairly spectacular -- almost on the level of Kurt's own.
There's a brief mental rabbit trail into the merits of, instead, taking advantage of Kurt's helpless state to reacquaint himself with his lover's particular talents in that area, and Corrigan has to take a moment for composure, absently rubbing one broad palm up and down the small of Kurt's back. Fingers spread, he can very nearly reach from hip to hip, his palm slightly roughened, but impossibly gentle as it presses down, prompting the younger man to arch his back, then tightening the ropes even more so he's forced to stay like that. It's a more exaggerated position that'll cause a good, heavy sort of ache once released, the kind that'll have Kurt moving slow and careful tomorrow, demanding backrubs and long hot baths.
But that's tomorrow. Tonight Kurt has chosen his fate, and it's Corrigan's big hands on his body, golden skin against snowy-pale, running over the smooth shape of spine and hip and stomach and thigh. For a long, quiet moment, that's all he does, takes his time and feels, his touch rhythmic and nearly monotonous in it's repetitive nature. He ignores anywhere too erogenous, doesn't go near the bright red handprint on Kurt's ass, or where he's aching hard and dripping, or where the rope criss-crosses over his chest, nipples pebbling in the cool air. It's just long, slow strokes, never quite enough, never where Kurt clearly wants it.]
Satisfied, pet? [It's idle, almost sweet-toned. Corrigan knows Kurt's tendencies towards impatience, towards being demanding and indignant and bossy. It remains to be seen if he'll stay docile or give in to these baser instincts.]
[Kurt sure wouldn't mind getting his throat fucked while suspended in mid-air by ropes, being made to take his Master's cock until he goes crosseyed and delirious, but it's probably for the best that they put that on hold. They have all the time in the world after he's done proving himself, after his Master's hands have made him all nice and pliant. He can wait.
He can wait. Right?
He keeps telling himself he can wait as Corrigan's hands slowly smooth over his body, all long, patient strokes, his palms warm and his fingers gentle where they press against his skin. Over his stomach, where his muscles quiver deliciously to keep himself straight. Over his back, his spine arched in an attractive taut curve by the tightened ropes trapping him. Over his arms, his thighs, his hips, bound and fighting not to press into his Master's touch. He keeps telling himself he can wait, closing his eyes and moaning softly, letting himself enjoy the near meditative stroke of hands.
But he can't. Kurt knows his patience is being tested, and he's starting to fail.]
M-Master-- [He shudders, trying - and failing - not to whine with need, but he manages to stay still. Doesn't seek out Corrigan's hands, doesn't press into the touch, tries instead to wait it out and let it happen on its own. It's the bare minimum, probably, but given how hard he is, aching for touch and dripping pre on the conference table, he'd say his restraint is admirable.] Feels so good, Master. Really good. Thank you, Master, thank you. Not-- Not satisfied though, Master, never satisfied, never, can't lie to you, c-can't ever get enough of your perfect touch, Master, please.
Mmmm-hm. [By now, Corrigan knows Kurt's tells, knows the exact shade of red his face goes when he's pleased or turned on, knows how he squirms in his seat when a particular word or look hits just right, knows how to make him melt or moan or scream. Granted, it's a lot easier to tell the effect he's having when Kurt's naked and tied up for him, unable to hide behind carefully-buttoned clothes or a composed expression.
But he can also tell when that carefully-trained control begins to slip, when the patience and obedience Kurt is so careful to have in every other area of his life starts fraying at the edges. He recognizes the tell-tale breathless note in the stammered, gasped-out words, just this side of babbling, and he knows. If Kurt's whole goal is to stay put together, show off how good and obedient he can be, Corrigan's is to push him into falling apart, losing control completely, again and again. It's so much more fun that way, after all.
So he pauses, one hand coming to rest on Kurt's trembling lower back, holding him still, because it wouldn't do for him to be able to move or arch and coax Corrigan's fingers into slipping somewhere else, right? Especially when his free hand is moving so delicately, fingertips-only, slipping over the shuddering muscles of Kurt's stomach, skirting the edge of his hips, then gliding up the inside of his thigh, almost-tickling in how light, how unsatisfying the contact is.] Not satisfied? Do you wish I'd touch you somewhere else, then? Someplace a little...more intimate?
[Corrigan pauses, moves his hand, fingers spread, curled slightly, close enough to Kurt's hard, dripping cock that the heat from his skin is tangible. It'd only take the slightest twitch, the tiniest movement, Kurt could so easily blame it on an involuntary shudder or pure instinct. Except Corrigan didn't say he could. That's the only catch.]
[Corrigan is so good - too good, dangerously good - at making Kurt fall apart. Especially when he's not supposed to, not allowed to. Kurt tries every trick in the book to keep himself still and poised, drawing on everything he has to remain in control. Slow, shuddery breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, clenching and unclenching his fingers, his toes, trying to let his mind wander instead of focusing on his Master's big hands on his body, his voice warm and rumbling in his ear, tempting.
It feels like it's working. Even as he shivers and gasps, whining softly with pleasure, Kurt feels like he's in control of his muscles, surrendering to touch without chasing it, surely enough to impress his Master even as he teases.
And by God, does he tease.] Please, Master, please, I want you to. Want to feel your hands all over me, y-your fingers on my cock, please.
[It's then, as he's begging for Corrigan's touch, so eager and needy for more, that his control slips - just by a hair, just by an involuntary clench of muscle, that's it, not thinking, not even on purpose. It's then, as that too-light, tickling touch leaves him and the heat of his palm gets so, so, so close to his throbbing cock, that a little twitch ripples through his body. It's enough for skin to touch skin, for Corrigan's waiting hand to brush against his aching cock, making the younger man whimper with pleasure, no matter how brief.
It was an accident. Totally understandable. Right?]
[Corrigan grins, a briefly triumphant, gloating expression, which Kurt of course, totally misses, since the rope around his neck is keeping him facing the other way. It's gone quick, though, replaced with Corrigan fully climbing up onto the table (good thing it's heavy, solid oak, able to hold his weight easily) and kneeling so his mouth is right at Kurt's ear, voice soft and velvety and soothing.] There's my boy. I knew you couldn't resist for long. Not when I have you right where I want you. Not when you've been waiting so patiently.
[His hand moves, fingers wrapping firmly around Kurt's cock, squeezing once, then pulling down, stroking him long and lingering and just right, twisting his wrist a little at the end, just like Kurt loves it. Then again, and again, pumping his hand at an even, firm pace, pressing a kiss behind his ear and murmuring:] There we go, just like that, you love this, don't you, you're gagging for it, you want me to touch you so bad...
[It's a surprising bit of leniency, when Kurt had likely expected punishment of some sort, but Corrigan likely has something wicked and maddening up his sleeve. But the momentary indulgence certainly is pleasant, isn't it?]
[It hits him that he wasn't supposed to do that only after it's too late. The sound of Corrigan climbing up on the table brings him right back, out of that brief moment of fleeting pleasure and back into the scene, the situation - he hadn't been given permission to move, and he went and did it anyway. Now the sound of leather shoes scuffing against the conference table behind him rings out and fills the room, his body swaying softly as the ropes are jostled, his Master getting into position right behind him. His spine arches a little tighter in anticipation, trembling as he holds his breath. Surely he's going to be punished.
Not yet, it seems. His Master's touch doesn't turn punishing at all, it almost feels more like a reward. Slow, long, lingering, just tight enough, Corrigan's pace measured and deliberate. Just perfect. Enough to drive Kurt crazy, if he keeps it up.]
Y-Yes, ah-- please! Feels so good, Master, s-so good when you touch me like that, waited so long, w-wanted it so bad, thank you. Thank you, Master, gorgeous Master, k-kind Master, oh my god.
[It's more than just pleasant. In the back of his mind, Kurt does know it can't last, Corrigan most certainly has something more planned. But right now, bound and suspended and so so hard, twitching against Corrigan's palm, it feels like heaven.]
[Of course it can't last. Because Corrigan's got one hand stroking Kurt like they're teenagers hiding in a supply closet, all rough, eager impatience and his mouth open against Kurt's neck, even though he said hands only, but he can't stop himself, biting down where it's soft and vulnerable, where ear meets neck, then laving his tongue over the spot. It's indulgent, it's intense and passionate, like it's just one of their long lazy mornings spent tangled up in the sheets and each other.
Except it isn't, of course. Because Corrigan didn't climb up on the table empty-handed -- no, not when there were so many delicious ways of enacting torturously blissful punishment. His free hand moves, suddenly, and for a moment there's more contact, more head-spinning, teasing touches, but when he moves both hands away, it's suddenly very evident why he'd worked so hard to get Kurt throbbing and hard in his hands.
He'd promised no mouth, but he never said anything about toys.
Corrigan finds the on switch for the sleek, tightly-fitting circle of silicone and flicks it to a low, maddening setting, enough to send thrumming vibrations where he'd been stroking just seconds before, then ducks to murmur sweetly into Kurt's ear:] Remember, no coming until I say you can.
[During the blissful seconds of indulgence offered to him before moving onto something inevitably more punishing, Kurt lets himself enjoy his Master's touch loudly and fully and without question. As long as he gets to feel this good, he'll happily take it. Every squeeze and stroke of Corrigan's fingers gets a moan, soft and rich, interspersed with delighted whimpers at the bite to his neck. He's shivering, tipping his head as far as he can to let his Master spoil him with kisses and tongue and teeth.
It's not often he gets to be spoiled like this during play, so he has no qualms in soaking it all up for as long as he gets to have it.
Not long, turns out. Kurt feels the pressure of the silicone ring as his Master slips it on, gripping securely around his throbbing cock, and then the vibrations hit. His whole body goes tight as soon as he feels them - the lowest possible setting, he's beyond fucked already - thrumming through him without pause or mercy. It feels so good, disarmingly good, and it takes a conscious full-body effort to relax his muscles, to ride with the vibrations, to not let them carry him away.]
Ah-- Hah--! Y-Yes, Master, I-- I-I won't, I won't, I-- [It's punishingly hard already. He's moaning with pleasure, unable to fight the occasional twitch as his body craves more, trying to break his resolve. A shuddery mantra is mumbled through clenched teeth as he hangs there, helpless, whimpering, dripping.] Not coming, n-not coming, not gonna come, not gonna come, not coming...
[Corrigan hums out a bemused chuckle of sound, hooking a couple fingers beneath Kurt's collar and tugging gently, pulling the band of leather taut over his throat. He presses one last kiss to Kurt's flushed, warmed skin, this one where his neck and shoulder meet and murmurs approvingly:] I know you won't. You're my good boy and you're gonna be so, so good for me, right?
[Without waiting for an answer -- because the answer is always an emphatic, whole-hearted yes -- Corrigan moves around behind Kurt, absently plucking at the ropes, making sure they're still tight and secure. He's doing it on purpose, taking his time and letting the steady thrum of the vibrations of the toy drive Kurt closer and closer to losing control. There's the familiar sound of lube being uncapped (because of course Corrigan has lube on him, always) and the sudden, wet coolness of it poured at the base of Kurt's spine, a small puddle of it, slippery and cold, welling up and spilling over the curve of his ass.]
Remember to take deep breaths. [Corrigan says in an undertone, capping the little bottle and watching the splatter of lube join the mess on the tabletop. One big warm hand comes up, smoothing the slick lube over Kurt's skin, over the fading handprint on his ass, his parted thighs, fingers slipping down to ghost over his hole, not pushing in just yet. Still just teasing.
Then he brings a hand down hard on the slicked-up skin, the sound and impact increased by the oily substance, adding another handprint to match the one he'd left previously.]
Yes, yes, o-of course, Master. So, so good for you. Ah...
[Kurt feels simultaneously heavy and weightless with sensation. His collar goes tight against his throat, cutting off his breath for a maddening, dizzying moment, delicious in its brevity, making him crave more. Vibrations still hum through him, low but insistent, little waves of pleasure rippling through his body, shivering against the tight bonds. The ropes are occasionally teasingly plucked, causing him to sway and shift ever so gently in the air, his Master's unseen hands toying with him as his control slowly crumbles.
The cold splash of lube to his hot skin makes Kurt gasp, moaning, shuddering, but he does as he's told, sucking in deep breaths of air, lungs expanding as far as the ropes holding him will allow. It's centering, both the breaths and the cold slick pool of lube spilling over the edges of his body, Corrigan's hand spreading it over his skin, making a mess of both him and the table. It helps him concentrate on something else than how good he's feeling. How easy it would be to just let go, to accept the pleasure, to embrace the fall over the edge...]
Ah! [The hand that had been slicking him up and teasing over his asshole comes down with a sickening sharp crack against his slick cheek. Kurt's whole body goes tight then, the pain hot and blooming, going straight to his twitching cock, the vibrations making everything that much more intense. Everything disappears from his mind for those short, blissful seconds as the delicious pain fades into a sweet, tingling burn, and he floats on that pleasure for as long as he has it.] Th-Thank you, Master, thank you! Oh fuck!
[Corrigan clucks his tongue once, mildly, gently disapproving, even as one broad palm comes to smooth over the reddened flesh, squeezing gently, rubbing away the sting.] Such language. [Considering the filthy things that come out of his mouth on the daily, this is an extremely hypocritical comment, Corry.
Now that Kurt's bearing matching handprints that'll definitely make sitting down slightly uncomfortable, Corrigan wipes one slippery hand somewhat clean-ish on his pants (his dry cleaners are the most discreet, long-suffering people on the planet) and moves to increase the speed and intensity of the vibrator. His other hand returns to his previous task, slick and probing, sliding through the mess of lube and then inside Kurt, down to the knuckle in one smooth, practiced motion. He crooks it just so, eases free and then plunges back in, harder.] God, I always forget how fucking tight you are.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
u r the light....of my life.....and the delight.....of my soul
Date: 2020-04-10 01:22 am (UTC)With each step forward, Corrigan slips further out of his benign business persona and deeper into who he is around Kurt -- sharper, stricter, ready to administer punishment and reward, as a benevolent, yet firm master should. By the time he's close enough to reach out and run his fingers over the ropes, the smile is gone.] If you're truly not bored, I could always go. Leave you to your solo pastime.
[Satisfied that the ropes are tied well enough to restrain and force good posture, but that there's no immediate danger of circulation loss (and, of course, that there are safety shears resting on one of the nearby chairs), Corrigan hooks his fingers under the rope crossing Kurt's chest, tugs him forward, close enough that when he speaks, it's soft and hot and inches from the young man's mouth.] After all, you had someone help you get up here, didn't you? Perhaps you'd like to have more fun that way. Let someone else keep touching what's mine.
u water my crops and cleanse my skin and so do these two i can never quit themm
Date: 2020-04-10 02:12 am (UTC)It disappears as quickly as it comes. That's fine. Knowing he's made Corrigan happy will keep him going for the rest of the scene.]
Well... I-I, uh... [His body moves without his doing, Kurt gasping sharply as he's pulled forward, tasting Corrigan's breath as he speaks a soft threat. He's already shivering, a flush spreading from ear to ear.]
I... I figured you'd appreciate a wrapped up little surprise. A-At the end of a long day at work. [The hour and a half day at work since Kurt saw him last, leaving the conference room.] This is for you, Master. N-No one else, I swear.
they are like a FINE WINE they get BETTER WITH TIME!!
Date: 2020-04-10 02:53 am (UTC)Corrigan tightens his grip on the ropes and licks his lips and it's I love you without words. Because his actual words are much dirtier, much less sappy and romantic, giving not the slightest thought to the fact that they're in an unlocked conference room.] You say that as though I couldn't have you wrapped up and ready for me at any time, with only a word. Or...unwrapped, as it may be.
[Then he cocks his head to one side, as if considering, his free hand reaching up to cup Kurt's cheek, to stroke over his lower lip, gently.] Though I'll admit there is...a pleasing efficiency to having my work done for me. To simply be able to begin, without the inconvenience of setup. [His thumb dips forward, coaxes into Kurt's mouth, just to hear his breath stutter, to make him that little bit more helpless.] I could do anything I like to you right now, couldn't I?
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Date: 2020-04-10 03:17 am (UTC)Nothing feels more exhilarating than that sweet, sweet contrast of Corrigan’s hand tenderly caressing his face, and his harsh, filthy words spoken in that silky baritone. This is just for the two of them. Perfect - Kurt hates sharing.
He lets Corrigan’s thumb into his mouth without protest, without resistance, the press of his finger on his tongue making his breath catch in his throat, a pitchy little moan immediately following. Kurt loves being made helpless like this. Adores being made to feel so small - yet somehow, the only thing Corrigan has eyes for.]
Y-Yes. [He whines, lisp worsened by the finger in his mouth.] Yes, a-anything, anything you want, M-Master. That’s... wh-what good little toys are for. Ready to p-pick up and play. Right?
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Date: 2020-04-10 03:52 am (UTC)But you're too greedy, baby. [It's almost purred, when Corrigan pulls back for breath finally, licking Kurt's taste off his lips.] I can feel you trying to get free, how you want to touch me so badly. You want too much, too fast. That's why you need these. [He runs a finger under the rope across Kurt's chest, then reaches up to tug harshly at the rope attached to his collar, forcing him to arch his back or choke.] You need to learn self-control.
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Date: 2020-04-11 12:17 am (UTC)It's exactly the kinda cliche fetish a semi-control freak like Kurt Hummel would find himself having.
So the stern, harsh assessment that he needs to show more control comes as a bit of a surprise. Or maybe it's just the sudden yank at his collar that startles him, a soft choked noise followed by deep, shaky breaths escaping him.] Y-Yes, Master. Of course, Master. [He straightens as best he can, tries to keep his arms from reaching, tries to hold his head up high enough to breathe comfortably. He's so turned on he can barely see straight, but he forces himself to. Just for him.]
All I ever want is to please you, my M-Master. I-- I can be in control of myself. I'll sh-show you.
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Date: 2020-04-11 04:46 am (UTC)Corrigan moves slightly, presses his lips just above the harsh line of leather from the straining collar.] You please me. [It's very soft, a tiny gift of approval, of praise, like the fingers Corrigan hooks under the ropes, knowing Kurt will follow and obey eagerly, if only for the promise of more.
But Corrigan's hand is still on the rope that leads to the collar, and it presses down harder, removing any slack, wanting to hear Kurt's breath grow raspy, hear that hitch of desperation to breathe.] You also had me interrupted during a very important meeting because you couldn't wait one moment more to have me pay you attention. Does that sound like someone who's in control?
[A pause, then Corrigan's free hand is sliding down, between Kurt's legs, pressing hard with the heel of his hand where he's hard.] Does this?
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Date: 2020-04-11 10:20 pm (UTC)He'll need it. Corrigan's grip on the rope tightens, pressing harder, and even as taut as his spine is, Kurt feels himself choking on his own collar. Tilting his head back as far as the rope will allow, he's able to breathe just barely, throat rasping and complaining with every inhale. He relishes the taut, punishing position, how the struggle for air makes his thoughts feel cloudy, his vision spotting at the edges, his focal point becoming pinpricks. It's exhilarating, just veering on dangerous - but of course, at this point, Kurt knows his own limits. If he becomes truly afraid, if he can't breathe, he'll signal to stop. No questions asked. They trust, they communicate, they work together. They also push each other, toeing at boundaries, challenge each other every day.
Today is his day. Corrigan's palm presses against the bulge in his underwear, and he whines, hips canting forward into that maddening touch on pure instinct. Kurt is certainly not in control.]
No! N-No, Master, you're right, it-- it doesn't. I'm-- hah! I'm so sorry, Master.
[He tries to draw a lungful of breath, his usual strategy for regaining composure, one he's being denied. How does he regain control of his body, how does he fix this egregious error...]
Would-- W-Would you want to r-resume your meeting, Ma-- Master? I-- I'll be st-still as a mouse, you won't know I'm here, p-please, please let me prove it to you, Master. Anything Master wants, a-anything.
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Date: 2020-04-12 04:25 am (UTC)[He shakes his head, sadly, palming over the bulge in Kurt's underwear, slowly at first, then slowly adding more pressure, the way he knows Kurt likes it, the friction just right, just enough.] That's not terribly impressive, is it? I think it'd be a much better show of how good you can control yourself if I had my fun with you just...like...this...
[Corrigan slips his hand up, then, sliding his fingers under the elastic and over the hot, hard flesh, stroking Kurt slow and teasing and coaxing.] ...and you managed not to come. Do you think you could do that? Do you think you could hold back, even when I do allll the things you like?
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Date: 2020-04-12 05:59 am (UTC)That's, of course, part of what makes it so hot.]
I-- Y-You're right, that's not--
[Words crumble like ash on his tongue when Corrigan's warm, bare fingers touch him directly, his touch slow, warm, almost gentle, tender enough to take Kurt completely off-guard. It takes conscious effort not to dribble saliva on the table - he's moaning his pleasure so much he's forgetting to swallow. A pathetic show of control. Kurt has to do better, he has to reel himself in, fingers clenching into tight fists, nails digging into his palms.] Yes. I-- Y-Yes, I think I could. I thi-- I know I can. I'll show you, M-Master, I swear, I'll show you, I'll please you. I'm in control. I-I'm in control.
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Date: 2020-04-13 02:18 am (UTC)However, it's clear that he isn't going to stick to a handjob -- not when he's gotten Kurt's solemn promise that nothing is going to make him break. Corrigan picks up the shears, which are shaped so they're less a point and more an angle, to make it easier to slide between skin and rope. Or, in this case, between skin and cloth. A few careful snips are enough to shred whatever clothing Kurt has on -- hopefully nothing he's too attached to -- and Corrigan carefully pulls it free, so there's no barrier between Kurt's skin and the ropes, so he's completely naked besides his restraints.]
Since you seem to like being put on display, I thought you'd like it if we went one step beyond. [He muses idly, carefully tightening the knots to allow for the bit of slack that's been created by the now-ruined clothes.] Because that's what you truly want, hm? You like being like this, nude and bound up for my pleasure, don't you? You don't care if anyone sees, you just want them to know you're mine.
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Date: 2020-04-14 01:33 am (UTC)[Even if it had sounded condescending, which it so often does when they play, Kurt would have read it as praise. Corrigan's word is law, his only tether, he clings to them with fearless devotion through the whole scene and then some. When he gets to this place, pliable and eager and heightened, so ready to charge head-first into whatever they've planned, only Master's words matter.
He's right - it will be tricky. Kurt's only managed to do it a few times, and that took months of training. Usually only works if he gets to come earlier in the scene, but there's no such luxury today. Only his bound, suspended body, high-strung and aching for release, and Corrigan's deft fingers.]
I... [Kurt's eyes find the glass door to the conference room as Corrigan shreds his underwear. No frosted glass, tinted window nonsense here, just crystal clear glass, his compromised position visible to anyone who passes the room. There have been a handful. Thankfully, Corrigan locked the door before leaving for his oh-so-important meeting, but both employees and clients have done double-takes when walking by, a couple of them lingering, taking a fuller look at the young collared man suspended, one man in a suit even taking a picture (which Kurt knows will be deleted and scrubbed from social, the Hotel is very strict). He'd even met Ginger's teasing knock at the door with a flirty grin.
It wouldn't be honest to say he's uncomfortable with the attention. If he said it was humiliating, a turn-off, that it frightened him, he'd be scolded and punished for lying. The ropes tighten around his hips, thighs, ankles, and Kurt moans, knowing he's on complete display.] That's right, Master. I want them to see. I w-want them to know what it takes t-to please you. Want them to see what I have. [A pause.] That no one else gets to have you. O-Or me.
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Date: 2020-04-14 11:33 pm (UTC)Turning away, Corrigan fishes his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick, no-nonsense text to the front desk and other staff to stay away from the conference room. Just a little extra security -- not that he's telling Kurt, per se. Part of the thrill is the younger man not knowing if someone will come by, if they'll see.
That item taken care of, Corrigan returns to lazily stroking his fingers up and down Kurt's spine, tracing along the smooth edges of the firmly-tied ropes, ghosting over where he knows his pet is the most sensitive.] And what would you like them to see? How far would you like me to go, right here, right where anyone could come and watch? How much do you think you can withstand, hm? [His hand is dangerously low again, smoothing up over Kurt's stomach, the jut of his hip.] Could you take my hands on you? My mouth? I'll let you choose how far you'd like me to push you.
im supposed to be asleep but damnit i cant quit them,,
Date: 2020-11-25 03:05 am (UTC)[See, here's the thing: Kurt has always been ambitious to a fault. An all-or-nothing kind of man. He may twitch and moan and try to arch his body into the hand loudly smacking his ass like some overeager schoolboy right now, but he knows better than to go all-in and overextend himself the way he used to when this first started. Gone are the days of only applying to one college, or gritting his teeth through hours of punishing kneeling, letting his pride get in the way of reason.
There's a lot he's had to learn about his body, his limits, and what kind of expectations he can reasonably set for himself. And yes, they like to push each other, challenging each other all the time, but not to a point where he's bound to fail. What's the fun of a challenge if you know you don't stand a chance?
Case in point, Corrigan's generous offer. Kurt won't last for long with his Master's mouth on him, even though the challenge is so so tantalizing. If he could conquer that, the adrenaline rush alone would send him flying. But he's already being challenged, isn't he? Suspended, straining, exposed, in pain - major turn-on, he's been hard for ages already - and expected to edge himself with no direct tactile control. Sounds like a challenge and a half already.
Kurt makes up for going with the easier option by giving Corrigan some sass. Wouldn't want to give Master the impression he's slacking off.]
Mmm, a-are you setting me up for failure, Master? [He smirks, breathless, tongue passing teasingly over his lip. Corrigan's teasing brush of warm fingers makes him shiver happily.] You know I can't resist that gorgeous mouth. I'd love f-for anyone walking by to see me come all over your face, Master, but that's not very becoming, is it? At least give me a chance to impress you. Y-Your hands, please, Master. I can take it.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERFECT ADDICTION
Date: 2020-11-25 03:50 am (UTC)There's a brief mental rabbit trail into the merits of, instead, taking advantage of Kurt's helpless state to reacquaint himself with his lover's particular talents in that area, and Corrigan has to take a moment for composure, absently rubbing one broad palm up and down the small of Kurt's back. Fingers spread, he can very nearly reach from hip to hip, his palm slightly roughened, but impossibly gentle as it presses down, prompting the younger man to arch his back, then tightening the ropes even more so he's forced to stay like that. It's a more exaggerated position that'll cause a good, heavy sort of ache once released, the kind that'll have Kurt moving slow and careful tomorrow, demanding backrubs and long hot baths.
But that's tomorrow. Tonight Kurt has chosen his fate, and it's Corrigan's big hands on his body, golden skin against snowy-pale, running over the smooth shape of spine and hip and stomach and thigh. For a long, quiet moment, that's all he does, takes his time and feels, his touch rhythmic and nearly monotonous in it's repetitive nature. He ignores anywhere too erogenous, doesn't go near the bright red handprint on Kurt's ass, or where he's aching hard and dripping, or where the rope criss-crosses over his chest, nipples pebbling in the cool air. It's just long, slow strokes, never quite enough, never where Kurt clearly wants it.]
Satisfied, pet? [It's idle, almost sweet-toned. Corrigan knows Kurt's tendencies towards impatience, towards being demanding and indignant and bossy. It remains to be seen if he'll stay docile or give in to these baser instincts.]
AN ADDICTION GOING ON A DECADE FUC K
Date: 2020-11-25 04:34 pm (UTC)He can wait. Right?
He keeps telling himself he can wait as Corrigan's hands slowly smooth over his body, all long, patient strokes, his palms warm and his fingers gentle where they press against his skin. Over his stomach, where his muscles quiver deliciously to keep himself straight. Over his back, his spine arched in an attractive taut curve by the tightened ropes trapping him. Over his arms, his thighs, his hips, bound and fighting not to press into his Master's touch. He keeps telling himself he can wait, closing his eyes and moaning softly, letting himself enjoy the near meditative stroke of hands.
But he can't. Kurt knows his patience is being tested, and he's starting to fail.]
M-Master-- [He shudders, trying - and failing - not to whine with need, but he manages to stay still. Doesn't seek out Corrigan's hands, doesn't press into the touch, tries instead to wait it out and let it happen on its own. It's the bare minimum, probably, but given how hard he is, aching for touch and dripping pre on the conference table, he'd say his restraint is admirable.] Feels so good, Master. Really good. Thank you, Master, thank you. Not-- Not satisfied though, Master, never satisfied, never, can't lie to you, c-can't ever get enough of your perfect touch, Master, please.
AT THIS POINT IT'S NOT JUST A HOBBY, IT IS A SACRED VOCATION
Date: 2020-11-25 06:09 pm (UTC)But he can also tell when that carefully-trained control begins to slip, when the patience and obedience Kurt is so careful to have in every other area of his life starts fraying at the edges. He recognizes the tell-tale breathless note in the stammered, gasped-out words, just this side of babbling, and he knows. If Kurt's whole goal is to stay put together, show off how good and obedient he can be, Corrigan's is to push him into falling apart, losing control completely, again and again. It's so much more fun that way, after all.
So he pauses, one hand coming to rest on Kurt's trembling lower back, holding him still, because it wouldn't do for him to be able to move or arch and coax Corrigan's fingers into slipping somewhere else, right? Especially when his free hand is moving so delicately, fingertips-only, slipping over the shuddering muscles of Kurt's stomach, skirting the edge of his hips, then gliding up the inside of his thigh, almost-tickling in how light, how unsatisfying the contact is.] Not satisfied? Do you wish I'd touch you somewhere else, then? Someplace a little...more intimate?
[Corrigan pauses, moves his hand, fingers spread, curled slightly, close enough to Kurt's hard, dripping cock that the heat from his skin is tangible. It'd only take the slightest twitch, the tiniest movement, Kurt could so easily blame it on an involuntary shudder or pure instinct. Except Corrigan didn't say he could. That's the only catch.]
im gonna order us cakes for our 10y anniversary in march, deadass
Date: 2020-11-25 06:51 pm (UTC)[Corrigan is so good - too good, dangerously good - at making Kurt fall apart. Especially when he's not supposed to, not allowed to. Kurt tries every trick in the book to keep himself still and poised, drawing on everything he has to remain in control. Slow, shuddery breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, clenching and unclenching his fingers, his toes, trying to let his mind wander instead of focusing on his Master's big hands on his body, his voice warm and rumbling in his ear, tempting.
It feels like it's working. Even as he shivers and gasps, whining softly with pleasure, Kurt feels like he's in control of his muscles, surrendering to touch without chasing it, surely enough to impress his Master even as he teases.
And by God, does he tease.] Please, Master, please, I want you to. Want to feel your hands all over me, y-your fingers on my cock, please.
[It's then, as he's begging for Corrigan's touch, so eager and needy for more, that his control slips - just by a hair, just by an involuntary clench of muscle, that's it, not thinking, not even on purpose. It's then, as that too-light, tickling touch leaves him and the heat of his palm gets so, so, so close to his throbbing cock, that a little twitch ripples through his body. It's enough for skin to touch skin, for Corrigan's waiting hand to brush against his aching cock, making the younger man whimper with pleasure, no matter how brief.
It was an accident. Totally understandable. Right?]
get ur art of them tattooed on my bicep tbh
Date: 2020-11-25 08:37 pm (UTC)[His hand moves, fingers wrapping firmly around Kurt's cock, squeezing once, then pulling down, stroking him long and lingering and just right, twisting his wrist a little at the end, just like Kurt loves it. Then again, and again, pumping his hand at an even, firm pace, pressing a kiss behind his ear and murmuring:] There we go, just like that, you love this, don't you, you're gagging for it, you want me to touch you so bad...
[It's a surprising bit of leniency, when Kurt had likely expected punishment of some sort, but Corrigan likely has something wicked and maddening up his sleeve. But the momentary indulgence certainly is pleasant, isn't it?]
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Date: 2020-11-25 09:06 pm (UTC)Not yet, it seems. His Master's touch doesn't turn punishing at all, it almost feels more like a reward. Slow, long, lingering, just tight enough, Corrigan's pace measured and deliberate. Just perfect. Enough to drive Kurt crazy, if he keeps it up.]
Y-Yes, ah-- please! Feels so good, Master, s-so good when you touch me like that, waited so long, w-wanted it so bad, thank you. Thank you, Master, gorgeous Master, k-kind Master, oh my god.
[It's more than just pleasant. In the back of his mind, Kurt does know it can't last, Corrigan most certainly has something more planned. But right now, bound and suspended and so so hard, twitching against Corrigan's palm, it feels like heaven.]
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Date: 2020-11-25 10:47 pm (UTC)Except it isn't, of course. Because Corrigan didn't climb up on the table empty-handed -- no, not when there were so many delicious ways of enacting torturously blissful punishment. His free hand moves, suddenly, and for a moment there's more contact, more head-spinning, teasing touches, but when he moves both hands away, it's suddenly very evident why he'd worked so hard to get Kurt throbbing and hard in his hands.
He'd promised no mouth, but he never said anything about toys.
Corrigan finds the on switch for the sleek, tightly-fitting circle of silicone and flicks it to a low, maddening setting, enough to send thrumming vibrations where he'd been stroking just seconds before, then ducks to murmur sweetly into Kurt's ear:] Remember, no coming until I say you can.
trust corry to have a $100 vibrator in his edc
Date: 2020-11-27 12:50 am (UTC)It's not often he gets to be spoiled like this during play, so he has no qualms in soaking it all up for as long as he gets to have it.
Not long, turns out. Kurt feels the pressure of the silicone ring as his Master slips it on, gripping securely around his throbbing cock, and then the vibrations hit. His whole body goes tight as soon as he feels them - the lowest possible setting, he's beyond fucked already - thrumming through him without pause or mercy. It feels so good, disarmingly good, and it takes a conscious full-body effort to relax his muscles, to ride with the vibrations, to not let them carry him away.]
Ah-- Hah--! Y-Yes, Master, I-- I-I won't, I won't, I-- [It's punishingly hard already. He's moaning with pleasure, unable to fight the occasional twitch as his body craves more, trying to break his resolve. A shuddery mantra is mumbled through clenched teeth as he hangs there, helpless, whimpering, dripping.] Not coming, n-not coming, not gonna come, not gonna come, not coming...
right next to his keys and wallet, ofc~
Date: 2020-11-27 04:57 am (UTC)[Without waiting for an answer -- because the answer is always an emphatic, whole-hearted yes -- Corrigan moves around behind Kurt, absently plucking at the ropes, making sure they're still tight and secure. He's doing it on purpose, taking his time and letting the steady thrum of the vibrations of the toy drive Kurt closer and closer to losing control. There's the familiar sound of lube being uncapped (because of course Corrigan has lube on him, always) and the sudden, wet coolness of it poured at the base of Kurt's spine, a small puddle of it, slippery and cold, welling up and spilling over the curve of his ass.]
Remember to take deep breaths. [Corrigan says in an undertone, capping the little bottle and watching the splatter of lube join the mess on the tabletop. One big warm hand comes up, smoothing the slick lube over Kurt's skin, over the fading handprint on his ass, his parted thighs, fingers slipping down to ghost over his hole, not pushing in just yet. Still just teasing.
Then he brings a hand down hard on the slicked-up skin, the sound and impact increased by the oily substance, adding another handprint to match the one he'd left previously.]
naturally~~
Date: 2020-11-27 03:41 pm (UTC)[Kurt feels simultaneously heavy and weightless with sensation. His collar goes tight against his throat, cutting off his breath for a maddening, dizzying moment, delicious in its brevity, making him crave more. Vibrations still hum through him, low but insistent, little waves of pleasure rippling through his body, shivering against the tight bonds. The ropes are occasionally teasingly plucked, causing him to sway and shift ever so gently in the air, his Master's unseen hands toying with him as his control slowly crumbles.
The cold splash of lube to his hot skin makes Kurt gasp, moaning, shuddering, but he does as he's told, sucking in deep breaths of air, lungs expanding as far as the ropes holding him will allow. It's centering, both the breaths and the cold slick pool of lube spilling over the edges of his body, Corrigan's hand spreading it over his skin, making a mess of both him and the table. It helps him concentrate on something else than how good he's feeling. How easy it would be to just let go, to accept the pleasure, to embrace the fall over the edge...]
Ah! [The hand that had been slicking him up and teasing over his asshole comes down with a sickening sharp crack against his slick cheek. Kurt's whole body goes tight then, the pain hot and blooming, going straight to his twitching cock, the vibrations making everything that much more intense. Everything disappears from his mind for those short, blissful seconds as the delicious pain fades into a sweet, tingling burn, and he floats on that pleasure for as long as he has it.] Th-Thank you, Master, thank you! Oh fuck!
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Date: 2020-11-28 03:12 am (UTC)Now that Kurt's bearing matching handprints that'll definitely make sitting down slightly uncomfortable, Corrigan wipes one slippery hand somewhat clean-ish on his pants (his dry cleaners are the most discreet, long-suffering people on the planet) and moves to increase the speed and intensity of the vibrator. His other hand returns to his previous task, slick and probing, sliding through the mess of lube and then inside Kurt, down to the knuckle in one smooth, practiced motion. He crooks it just so, eases free and then plunges back in, harder.] God, I always forget how fucking tight you are.
[Case in point re: the whole dirty mouth thing.]
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