[It's these shows of tender affection that draw him to Dimitri just as much as his dominance. His cheeks flush as Dimitri kisses down the length of his finger, lips lingering over the ring, and he feels more tension in him melt away as a strong hand strokes easily, possessively, over his hair to the back of his neck.
His always busy mind, always planning, thinking ahead, always on guard and seeking out threats... it needs rest, and he only finds that in letting go of his tight grip of his control. In letting Dimitri take charge. But it's difficult, some days even more so. He's physically relaxing, but his mind is still toiling away, thinking about how much more support he needs to secure the throne, where he might get it that he hasn't already reached out to, how close some are to being convinced... a million threads demanding his attention at all times, even when all he wants is to give the entirety of his attention to Dimitri.
Lips pressed over that ring bring him back, though, grounding him. He nods at the simple order, giving a small sigh of relief as the ring is tugged off his finger. Grounding though it is, it's removal always means the addition of something else-- in the world he's going to build, something he can wear with pride.
His smile softens to something longing when the box containing his collar is opened in front of him, hands itching to reach out and touch it, put it on himself, as if that wouldn't defeat the purpose. The order to strip is expected, a part of this little ritual. It gives his hands something to do, makes a metaphor out of him removing all the symbols of his status, the markers of royalty, where control and dominance is expected. They are placed carefully on his dresser to be picked back up tomorrow. It's after that he removes his clothing, and that is treated with a little less care, simply dropped to the floor. If he were in a more playful mood he'd tease with this, test Dimitri's patience a little-- neither of them have much patience right now. It's not long before he's bare in front of the other man, physical and metaphorical armor and masks removed. No longer a prince, just Claude, forcing himself to stillness so that he doesn't tremble with need. Dimitri isn't the only one their act takes a toll on.]
( As often as he's seen the other man strip, Dimitri watches the Claude intently. There's a lack of usual teasing and care than what he usually sees in the movements, but he doesn't mind it. It's a sign that feels the same way he does - that they're both so close to the edge and desperately in need of a release of what comes naturally.
The blue eye trails up the length of the other's naked body, lingering on his neck. More than anything, he wants the day to come where he can put a collar there permanently for the world to see. But those are thoughts for another time, don't have any place in this moment when they're both so tense. Instead, he carries the box closer, sets it down only in favor of grabbing a cushion to place neatly onto the ground in front of Claude. His gaze drops from Claude's face, down to the cushion expectantly. )
On your knees.
( His hands move back towards the box, this time so he can gather up the collar to hold it carefully in his hands. The way he handles it says how precious the item is, and he turns expectantly towards Claude. )
[Claude hesitates for only a moment, the last stubborn resistance of the control he has to have outside these walls. Then he drops, looking up at Dimitri, up at the collar, with an increasingly desperate and visible hunger. He already has to look up at Dimitri when he's standing-- like this, the man looms over everything.
The pet name makes him shiver, his throat feeling suddenly too dry, too tight. Even like this, admitting to his more vulnerable feelings doesn't come easily.] So badly. [His voice is hushed, the paranoid part of him afraid there might be someone listening at the door, even though he knows full and well that it's thoroughly sound proofed.] It's been on my mind all day. The whole time we performed, thinking about this got me through it.
( This feels right. The way Claude looks up at him, the collar. The want for the weight of it around his neck and what comes after... If the day had unfolded differently, he would have considered dragging this out further. Seeing what else he might be able to get the other to say before he finally put the collar around his neck. But Dimitri doesn't have it in him for that today.
He takes a couple of steps forward, one hand reaching out to stroke Claude's cheek fondly. The touch trails over his jaw and down to his neck where the collar will be. ) I know. ( And he feels the same. Knowing he'll be able to come back to these chambers and be with Claude helps ease the process of this whole endeavor.
Finally, Dimitri moves, stepping around Claude to stand behind him instead. The collar slides around Claude's throat, and he fastens it into place with practiced ease. Once its in place, one hand moves to curve under the collar, a firm pressure as he leans down and presses his lips against the smaller man's ear. ) Do you know what I am going to do to you now, Beloved? ( He wonders, voice low, the hand not around Claude's throat moving slowly to trail over one of Claude's shoulders, across his back. )
[Claude leans in to the hand on his cheek like a cat being pet by their favorite person, taking a slow, steadying breath when Dimitri's fingers burn a line down to his throat.
He keeps his chin tipped up as the man steps behind him, goosebumps rising on his shoulders as the cool metal settles on his throat. Dimitri's hand follows it, holding him just under the collar, and he moans softly. He doesn't have to give up his control if Dimitri simply reaches out and takes it. He swallows roughly against the hand holding him as steadily as the collar at the question. He may not know the specifics, but he has some idea, especially with the touch to his back, reminding him of what he'd had to do to Dimitri's back.] Punish me? [They both need it, Dimitri to work out his frustration and Claude to atone for how he has to use Dimitri, so the guilt doesn't eat at him as much.]
( There's the slightest press of his fingers around Claude's throat, a tease of what those hands can do and what might come. Dimitri makes a sound in the back of his throat as if to say the other man is correct, and he trails his lips gently over the line of hair on Claude's jaw. ) Very good.
( His hands slide away, a small flicker of disappointment rising in him to lose the warmth of having his hands on Claude. But it doesn't last knowing it won't be long until his hands are all over the man once more, in many different ways. Stepping around Claude again, he moves the box to settle it elsewhere and out of the way, taking the time to strip off his own shirt and any accessories that might be on his arms. Normally he'd ask Claude to do it, but the slowness of those sorts of orders is too much for a time like this.
Instead, he steps back towards Claude, offering his hand down to him expectantly. ) Come. ( He uses Claude's hand to help him to his feet before leading him towards the bed.
He sits comfortably on the edge of the bed, well within reach of the bed side table and any oils or other things he might need. He gives a tug of the other's hand and arm in a way that says he wants Claude to join him, motioning to his lap. ) Lie down. ( Stomach down across his lap. )
[Claude soaks up the praise like a flower in the sun, biting back a sound of complaint as Dimitri pulls away. Dimitri expects him to be patient, and he can do that. He stays kneeling, watching Dimitri strip from the waist up, ridding himself of all those little things that mark him as Claude's when they're outside this room. The collar helps to keep him here, keep him focused just on Dimitri, but it's still not enough to quell his doubts, make his thoughts stop spiraling in a million directions while he waits.
He snaps back to attention when Dimitri comes back over to him, smile faint but far more real than anything he put on earlier, and takes that offered hand. Dimitri pulls him to his feet with no effort at all, leading him over to the bed. Anticipation ties knots in his stomach as Dimitri settles at the end of the bed and tugs expectantly at his arm. Claude knows he could simply force him into his lap if he wanted-- he's done so before. But this time, Dimitri is demanding he put himself there. Submit to his punishment. His cock, which had already stirred to life the moment Dimitri's hand wrapped around his throat, gives an eager twitch, hardening further. And it's such an obvious tell, a reaction he can't control, telling Dimitri exactly what this is doing to him, how needy he is for it.
He wrestles with the ever-present discomfort of being so thoroughly seen and known as he lays himself down over Dimitri's lap, his face burning with arousal and a bit of embarrassment. Maybe one day it won't scare the hell out of him on some level, that he lets Dimitri do this, see him like this, and worse, craves it.] Where do you want my hands? [Claude isn't interested in breaking any rules-- not during his punishment, at least. But he has to know what they are.]
( Claude truly is beautiful. Dimitri can't stop the way his gaze trails down the length of the other man's body, doesn't miss the sight of his cock already starting to rise. His own excitement and arousal is already simmering under his skin, and he's certain it won't take much longer before it's obvious. Certainly Claude will notice once it is stretched across his lap.
He gives Claude a moment to settle, though his hands roam freely over the warm skin. The way he touches him is slow and firm, indulging the contact, appreciating every bit of the man across his lap as if it's both the first and last time he'll ever be able to lay hands on him. ) You are beautiful. ( He praises, stroking one hand down Claude's back, over the curve of his ass, and lingering at the top of one thigh. There's a gentle scrape of his nails there, and his other hand moves to where Claude can see it.
There's a careful motion to a spot on the bed. ) Here. Don't move them. ( The spot is far enough that Claude can stretch his arms comfortably in front of him and that Dimitri can reach his wrists and hold them if need be. )
[Dimitri always touches him like it's the most indulgent thing in the world to do so, and it never fails to make his heart clench in his chest to be treated so preciously. He's glad he's face-down, so his obvious blush at the simple compliment isn't so visible. Dimitri always means it, and Claude knows that, can't deny it even to himself. It's what makes his praise so potent.
He moans and shivers as nails gently tease at the skin of his upper thigh, sensitizing the nerves there.]
Yes, Dima. [He whispers, placing his hands where Dimitri indicates on the bed. He grasps lightly at the blankets, taking a slow breath and settling more into his Dominant's lap. Twenty strokes to make up for. Gods, he's going to be a wreck.]
( The way Claude moans makes blood start rushing to his own cock, and Dimitri has to breathe out slowly to keep his calm. Having the other man spread across his lap is the perfect opportunity to do so much more than punishment, and he reminds himself there will be time for that later.
Eye glancing towards where Claude's hands are, he moves one of his own to rest it lightly on one of his arms. Ready to restrain Claude if he does move.
Dimitri trails his hand slowly over the curve of Claude's hand once more, stilling it on the curve of one cheek. ) Count. ( It's the only warning that anything is coming as he lifts his hand before bringing it back down against Claude's ass with a satisfying smack. The smack is meant to sting, but it's nowhere near as hard or rough as he can be, has been in the past. )
[As one of Dimitri's hands comes to rest on his arm, he fights with the urge to move just so Dimitri will restrain him. Just to have that hand wrapped around his wrists, pinning him down.
The other hand on his ass quickly demands his attention, though, able to inflict all manner of harm with little effort but promising only the right kind of pain. Dimitri's order gives him enough warning to reflexively tense, not enough to force himself to relax again, and he hisses through his teeth at the stinging blow. It sounds worse than it feels, but this is just the warm-up.] One. [For now his voice is still steady, though the arousal in it is obvious.]
( Given where Claude is across his lap, Dimitri can feel the way he tenses at the sound of the order, and it's strangely satisfying. His hand moves to the opposite cheek at the sound of Claude's voice, and he lifts his hand to bring it down against it the same as the other. The strike is much the same as before, simply a warning of what's to come, but he hardly plans to be this lenient in his attention.
The third hit follows the second almost immediately, coming down onto the same spot with more force. It's brings a bright color to Claude's skin, and the sight of it is enough to make Dimitri fully hard. Something the other man will certainly feel. )
Two. [The word is barely out of his mouth when Dimitri's hand comes down a third time, harder and in the exact same spot. He practically yelps out the count, hands twisting in the bed sheet to try and rid himself of the urge to squirm.
He feels Dimitri's cock hardening underneath him and shudders with pleasure knowing it's because of him.]
( Dimitri notices the way Claude's hands twist in the sheets, and he reaches out to wrap his hand around the other's wrists. Claude's hands and wrists are smaller than his own, and he holds them easily, pressing them down against the bed. It's an easy task to hold him without hurting him, though he knows just the right spots to apply pressure to get a reaction if he needs to.
The next motions of his hands come in steady motions, alternating between cheeks. The force of each strike increases slightly, and he's satisfied with the color that is spreading across Claude's skin. Knowing Claude will feel this later only adds to the excitement of it all and feeds into his arousal.
His hand only stills after the last smack, slowly palming one cheek and then squeezing. )
[Claude moans with gratitude as Dimitri's hand pins his wrists to the bed, as inescapable as iron molded to his flesh.
He keeps up the count throughout, but with each strike his voice gets shakier, higher-pitched until it's practically a whine. His ass burns and he already knows he'll still be feeling the soreness of it tomorrow, the thought making his already achingly hard cock leak a drop of precum. By twenty, he's a squirming, whimpering, needy wreck, all composure gone. But he's done it, he's made it through the punishment. He's atoned.
He doesn't try to fight Dimitri's grip on him until that large hand comes to settle on one sore cheek... then squeezes. He jerks his hips, instinctively trying to squirm away and getting nowhere.]
( Claude jerks and squirms, and one brow goes up. He's endured his punishment, but Dimitri finds there's still an edge to his mood. A need for a bit of extra control that he longs for after hours spent on his knees.
The thought makes his hand flex around Claude's wrists, enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to leave a mark. Perhaps in the future once Claude has realized his dream, he can allow himself to indulge in that particular urge - to leave a mark showing where he's held the other man. But the wrists and neck are too obvious for such things now.
Instead, he settles for releasing the cheek he had squeezed in favor of delivering a short, quick slap to the already abused skin. )
Can you handle more, Beloved? ( Those words are followed by another smack against the opposite cheek. His hand stays where it's landed, squeezing as he waits for an answer.
His own cock is swollen and straining against his pants, and every time Claude squirms, there's just the slightest hint of friction. It makes him ache to pin the other man down, to sink into him, and fuck him until they're both exhausted. His gaze flicks to the nightstand with that thought, considering the oil they have there. Oh, the things he can do with Claude just like this... )
[Dimitri grips his wrists harder and Claude stills, panting roughly and wishing Dimitri could leave him with a ring of bruises there too. Something he could easily look down and see...
Another smack sends him reeling, giving a whimpering moan. He nods at the question despite the tears starting to form in his eyes-- Dimitri wants it and he wants to give Dimitri what he wants. He can handle it.] Sh-Should I still count? [Gods, his voice is shaky... Dimitri hadn't seemed to expect him to count for the last two.
He can feel the man's erection pressing up against him, and he wants. Wants to touch it, have it in his mouth, wants to be spread open and fucked until he screams. He rocks his hips just a little, just enough to rub his cock against Dimitri's clothed thigh.]
( Should Claude keep counting? Dimitri considers the question, hand smoothing his way over the marks he's left on the curve of the other's ass. The touches are slow and indulgent, and he lets Claude rock his hips against his thigh. But the motion is followed by another slap to one cheek. )
No. ( Another slap. ) I want you to tell me what you want. ( There's no slap this time, but his hand down move, following the crease of Claude's ass, dipping between the man's thighs to graze his balls curiously with the tips of his fingers. )
[Claude chokes out another moan, shaking a little with every slap. It stings so much, tears starting to flow down his cheeks. That's a release of its own, making him sink deeper.
Gods, there's so much that he wants, but as soon as Dimitri gives the order it's like all the words to express it fall right out of his head. He's still expecting more spanks, a surprised whine escaping him as Dimitri's hand slides lower.] Ohhh... [He squirms in Dimitri's lap again as fingers barely nudge against his balls, his mind racing with possibilities. The answer that comes is barely, terrifyingly honest.] I want to be yours, want you to use me. Please, Dima!
( Dimitri is certain the attention to Claude's ass might be bordering on too much, and he considers ignoring that thought in favor of continuing. Seeing how far he can push Claude until the man is begging for him to stop. But the way Claude is squirming and speaking is far more appealing at the moment. )
Tell me how you want me to use you.
( His hand doesn't dip any further than it already has. Instead, it retreats, back to the abused ass. He strokes it slowly again, admiring the color, imagining the way Claude will feel after all of this... Certainly it will be difficult to forget what he's done to him with these marks. The thought urges him to leave another smack against one cheek, and his hand stills there. Feeling the heat of Claude's skin, how warm it is from the abuse. )
[He groans as Dimitri's hand moves back to his sore ass, a sob catching in his throat at the next smack. It feels like its burning, he's sure it must be practically glowing red.
Awfully cruel of Dimitri, to make words so uncharacteristically difficult for him and then demand he give them. He tries to put his thoughts together, to pull back from the pure physicality.] I want-- [He rocks his hips again, swallowing back a whine.] Want you to use me for your own pleasure. I want your cock down my throat, in my ass, I don't care which. I want you to fuck me however you want to, and come inside me. [He feels like one raw nerve now, exposed, vulnerable. At least his face is still hidden in the sheets, he's not sure he could do this if he had to look at Dimitri. His voice comes out quiet, choked with need.] I want to please you. [He wants to be wanted, owned and treasured, willingly chosen... not just the only available option.]
( The sound that leaves Claude makes Dimitri's own cock ache for attention, fluid beading at the tip and into the fabric of his pants. He loves the sounds he can pull from Claude, the way he can make him act so differently from his usual eloquent and vocal self.
He listens carefully to what Claude says, rubbing small circles against the coloring skin to try and coax him into saying more. It's easy to imagine giving into those requests, holding Claude down and having his way with him until he's entirely spent. But there will be time for that. ) Very good, Beloved. ( He praises fondly, giving the man's wrists a small squeeze before releasing his hold. His hand moves instead to stroke a hand over the brown hair once. )
[Claude lets out a shuddering breath at the praise and the pet name, weak in a different way to that soft affection. Admitting these things doesn't come easy to him, and it's a relief that Dimitri knows that, appreciates it. He tilts his head into the man's hand, soaking up the attention for a moment.
Then he nods, reaching for the nearby bedside table. He can just barely pick up the familiar bottle of oil without moving from his spot in Dimitri's lap, and he holds it out for Dimitri to take.]
( The bottle is taken and set aside on the bed for the moment. Dimitri busies his hands elsewhere in favor of pulling Claude up from his lap. It's easy to move him around, manipulate the other man so Claude is sitting on his lap, straddling Dimitri's thighs.
The position gives him the view he wants of Claude's face, to see every reaction he makes that would have been hidden in the bed otherwise. He's slow as he leans forward, gently leaving a trail of soft kisses along the other's jaw. His hands busy themselves with trailing down Claude's back and sides, stopping at his hips to squeeze. )
I love looking at you like this. ( He offers softly, turning his attention to press a soft kiss to Claude's lips instead. ) I want to see your face when my fingers are inside you.
[Claude groans as he's moved about like he weighs nothing at all, grimacing in pain as he's settled on Dimitri's lap. He grabs at Dimitri's shoulders to keep from falling back, feeling unsteady and exposed.
He relaxes into the new position as Dimitri kisses along his jaw, hands rubbing over his back and squeezing at his hips. Normally sharp green eyes are hazy, cheeks streaked with tears, and his expression open and vulnerable. And Dimitri says he loves it.]
Dima-- [His heart clenches in his chest at the soft words, the gentleness of the kiss. He keeps an arm wrapped around Dimitri's shoulder, nodding and fighting the urge to hide his burning face there. Dimitri wants to see his face, and he's going to let him.]
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His always busy mind, always planning, thinking ahead, always on guard and seeking out threats... it needs rest, and he only finds that in letting go of his tight grip of his control. In letting Dimitri take charge. But it's difficult, some days even more so. He's physically relaxing, but his mind is still toiling away, thinking about how much more support he needs to secure the throne, where he might get it that he hasn't already reached out to, how close some are to being convinced... a million threads demanding his attention at all times, even when all he wants is to give the entirety of his attention to Dimitri.
Lips pressed over that ring bring him back, though, grounding him. He nods at the simple order, giving a small sigh of relief as the ring is tugged off his finger. Grounding though it is, it's removal always means the addition of something else-- in the world he's going to build, something he can wear with pride.
His smile softens to something longing when the box containing his collar is opened in front of him, hands itching to reach out and touch it, put it on himself, as if that wouldn't defeat the purpose. The order to strip is expected, a part of this little ritual. It gives his hands something to do, makes a metaphor out of him removing all the symbols of his status, the markers of royalty, where control and dominance is expected. They are placed carefully on his dresser to be picked back up tomorrow. It's after that he removes his clothing, and that is treated with a little less care, simply dropped to the floor. If he were in a more playful mood he'd tease with this, test Dimitri's patience a little-- neither of them have much patience right now. It's not long before he's bare in front of the other man, physical and metaphorical armor and masks removed. No longer a prince, just Claude, forcing himself to stillness so that he doesn't tremble with need. Dimitri isn't the only one their act takes a toll on.]
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The blue eye trails up the length of the other's naked body, lingering on his neck. More than anything, he wants the day to come where he can put a collar there permanently for the world to see. But those are thoughts for another time, don't have any place in this moment when they're both so tense. Instead, he carries the box closer, sets it down only in favor of grabbing a cushion to place neatly onto the ground in front of Claude. His gaze drops from Claude's face, down to the cushion expectantly. )
On your knees.
( His hands move back towards the box, this time so he can gather up the collar to hold it carefully in his hands. The way he handles it says how precious the item is, and he turns expectantly towards Claude. )
Tell me how badly you want this, Beloved.
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The pet name makes him shiver, his throat feeling suddenly too dry, too tight. Even like this, admitting to his more vulnerable feelings doesn't come easily.] So badly. [His voice is hushed, the paranoid part of him afraid there might be someone listening at the door, even though he knows full and well that it's thoroughly sound proofed.] It's been on my mind all day. The whole time we performed, thinking about this got me through it.
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He takes a couple of steps forward, one hand reaching out to stroke Claude's cheek fondly. The touch trails over his jaw and down to his neck where the collar will be. ) I know. ( And he feels the same. Knowing he'll be able to come back to these chambers and be with Claude helps ease the process of this whole endeavor.
Finally, Dimitri moves, stepping around Claude to stand behind him instead. The collar slides around Claude's throat, and he fastens it into place with practiced ease. Once its in place, one hand moves to curve under the collar, a firm pressure as he leans down and presses his lips against the smaller man's ear. ) Do you know what I am going to do to you now, Beloved? ( He wonders, voice low, the hand not around Claude's throat moving slowly to trail over one of Claude's shoulders, across his back. )
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He keeps his chin tipped up as the man steps behind him, goosebumps rising on his shoulders as the cool metal settles on his throat. Dimitri's hand follows it, holding him just under the collar, and he moans softly. He doesn't have to give up his control if Dimitri simply reaches out and takes it. He swallows roughly against the hand holding him as steadily as the collar at the question. He may not know the specifics, but he has some idea, especially with the touch to his back, reminding him of what he'd had to do to Dimitri's back.] Punish me? [They both need it, Dimitri to work out his frustration and Claude to atone for how he has to use Dimitri, so the guilt doesn't eat at him as much.]
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( His hands slide away, a small flicker of disappointment rising in him to lose the warmth of having his hands on Claude. But it doesn't last knowing it won't be long until his hands are all over the man once more, in many different ways. Stepping around Claude again, he moves the box to settle it elsewhere and out of the way, taking the time to strip off his own shirt and any accessories that might be on his arms. Normally he'd ask Claude to do it, but the slowness of those sorts of orders is too much for a time like this.
Instead, he steps back towards Claude, offering his hand down to him expectantly. ) Come. ( He uses Claude's hand to help him to his feet before leading him towards the bed.
He sits comfortably on the edge of the bed, well within reach of the bed side table and any oils or other things he might need. He gives a tug of the other's hand and arm in a way that says he wants Claude to join him, motioning to his lap. ) Lie down. ( Stomach down across his lap. )
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He snaps back to attention when Dimitri comes back over to him, smile faint but far more real than anything he put on earlier, and takes that offered hand. Dimitri pulls him to his feet with no effort at all, leading him over to the bed. Anticipation ties knots in his stomach as Dimitri settles at the end of the bed and tugs expectantly at his arm. Claude knows he could simply force him into his lap if he wanted-- he's done so before. But this time, Dimitri is demanding he put himself there. Submit to his punishment. His cock, which had already stirred to life the moment Dimitri's hand wrapped around his throat, gives an eager twitch, hardening further. And it's such an obvious tell, a reaction he can't control, telling Dimitri exactly what this is doing to him, how needy he is for it.
He wrestles with the ever-present discomfort of being so thoroughly seen and known as he lays himself down over Dimitri's lap, his face burning with arousal and a bit of embarrassment. Maybe one day it won't scare the hell out of him on some level, that he lets Dimitri do this, see him like this, and worse, craves it.] Where do you want my hands? [Claude isn't interested in breaking any rules-- not during his punishment, at least. But he has to know what they are.]
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He gives Claude a moment to settle, though his hands roam freely over the warm skin. The way he touches him is slow and firm, indulging the contact, appreciating every bit of the man across his lap as if it's both the first and last time he'll ever be able to lay hands on him. ) You are beautiful. ( He praises, stroking one hand down Claude's back, over the curve of his ass, and lingering at the top of one thigh. There's a gentle scrape of his nails there, and his other hand moves to where Claude can see it.
There's a careful motion to a spot on the bed. ) Here. Don't move them. ( The spot is far enough that Claude can stretch his arms comfortably in front of him and that Dimitri can reach his wrists and hold them if need be. )
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He moans and shivers as nails gently tease at the skin of his upper thigh, sensitizing the nerves there.]
Yes, Dima. [He whispers, placing his hands where Dimitri indicates on the bed. He grasps lightly at the blankets, taking a slow breath and settling more into his Dominant's lap. Twenty strokes to make up for. Gods, he's going to be a wreck.]
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Eye glancing towards where Claude's hands are, he moves one of his own to rest it lightly on one of his arms. Ready to restrain Claude if he does move.
Dimitri trails his hand slowly over the curve of Claude's hand once more, stilling it on the curve of one cheek. ) Count. ( It's the only warning that anything is coming as he lifts his hand before bringing it back down against Claude's ass with a satisfying smack. The smack is meant to sting, but it's nowhere near as hard or rough as he can be, has been in the past. )
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The other hand on his ass quickly demands his attention, though, able to inflict all manner of harm with little effort but promising only the right kind of pain. Dimitri's order gives him enough warning to reflexively tense, not enough to force himself to relax again, and he hisses through his teeth at the stinging blow. It sounds worse than it feels, but this is just the warm-up.] One. [For now his voice is still steady, though the arousal in it is obvious.]
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The third hit follows the second almost immediately, coming down onto the same spot with more force. It's brings a bright color to Claude's skin, and the sight of it is enough to make Dimitri fully hard. Something the other man will certainly feel. )
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He feels Dimitri's cock hardening underneath him and shudders with pleasure knowing it's because of him.]
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The next motions of his hands come in steady motions, alternating between cheeks. The force of each strike increases slightly, and he's satisfied with the color that is spreading across Claude's skin. Knowing Claude will feel this later only adds to the excitement of it all and feeds into his arousal.
His hand only stills after the last smack, slowly palming one cheek and then squeezing. )
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He keeps up the count throughout, but with each strike his voice gets shakier, higher-pitched until it's practically a whine. His ass burns and he already knows he'll still be feeling the soreness of it tomorrow, the thought making his already achingly hard cock leak a drop of precum. By twenty, he's a squirming, whimpering, needy wreck, all composure gone. But he's done it, he's made it through the punishment. He's atoned.
He doesn't try to fight Dimitri's grip on him until that large hand comes to settle on one sore cheek... then squeezes. He jerks his hips, instinctively trying to squirm away and getting nowhere.]
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The thought makes his hand flex around Claude's wrists, enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to leave a mark. Perhaps in the future once Claude has realized his dream, he can allow himself to indulge in that particular urge - to leave a mark showing where he's held the other man. But the wrists and neck are too obvious for such things now.
Instead, he settles for releasing the cheek he had squeezed in favor of delivering a short, quick slap to the already abused skin. )
Can you handle more, Beloved? ( Those words are followed by another smack against the opposite cheek. His hand stays where it's landed, squeezing as he waits for an answer.
His own cock is swollen and straining against his pants, and every time Claude squirms, there's just the slightest hint of friction. It makes him ache to pin the other man down, to sink into him, and fuck him until they're both exhausted. His gaze flicks to the nightstand with that thought, considering the oil they have there. Oh, the things he can do with Claude just like this... )
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Another smack sends him reeling, giving a whimpering moan. He nods at the question despite the tears starting to form in his eyes-- Dimitri wants it and he wants to give Dimitri what he wants. He can handle it.] Sh-Should I still count? [Gods, his voice is shaky... Dimitri hadn't seemed to expect him to count for the last two.
He can feel the man's erection pressing up against him, and he wants. Wants to touch it, have it in his mouth, wants to be spread open and fucked until he screams. He rocks his hips just a little, just enough to rub his cock against Dimitri's clothed thigh.]
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No. ( Another slap. ) I want you to tell me what you want. ( There's no slap this time, but his hand down move, following the crease of Claude's ass, dipping between the man's thighs to graze his balls curiously with the tips of his fingers. )
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Gods, there's so much that he wants, but as soon as Dimitri gives the order it's like all the words to express it fall right out of his head. He's still expecting more spanks, a surprised whine escaping him as Dimitri's hand slides lower.] Ohhh... [He squirms in Dimitri's lap again as fingers barely nudge against his balls, his mind racing with possibilities. The answer that comes is barely, terrifyingly honest.] I want to be yours, want you to use me. Please, Dima!
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Tell me how you want me to use you.
( His hand doesn't dip any further than it already has. Instead, it retreats, back to the abused ass. He strokes it slowly again, admiring the color, imagining the way Claude will feel after all of this... Certainly it will be difficult to forget what he's done to him with these marks. The thought urges him to leave another smack against one cheek, and his hand stills there. Feeling the heat of Claude's skin, how warm it is from the abuse. )
In detail.
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Awfully cruel of Dimitri, to make words so uncharacteristically difficult for him and then demand he give them. He tries to put his thoughts together, to pull back from the pure physicality.] I want-- [He rocks his hips again, swallowing back a whine.] Want you to use me for your own pleasure. I want your cock down my throat, in my ass, I don't care which. I want you to fuck me however you want to, and come inside me. [He feels like one raw nerve now, exposed, vulnerable. At least his face is still hidden in the sheets, he's not sure he could do this if he had to look at Dimitri. His voice comes out quiet, choked with need.] I want to please you. [He wants to be wanted, owned and treasured, willingly chosen... not just the only available option.]
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He listens carefully to what Claude says, rubbing small circles against the coloring skin to try and coax him into saying more. It's easy to imagine giving into those requests, holding Claude down and having his way with him until he's entirely spent. But there will be time for that. ) Very good, Beloved. ( He praises fondly, giving the man's wrists a small squeeze before releasing his hold. His hand moves instead to stroke a hand over the brown hair once. )
Give me the oil.
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Then he nods, reaching for the nearby bedside table. He can just barely pick up the familiar bottle of oil without moving from his spot in Dimitri's lap, and he holds it out for Dimitri to take.]
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The position gives him the view he wants of Claude's face, to see every reaction he makes that would have been hidden in the bed otherwise. He's slow as he leans forward, gently leaving a trail of soft kisses along the other's jaw. His hands busy themselves with trailing down Claude's back and sides, stopping at his hips to squeeze. )
I love looking at you like this. ( He offers softly, turning his attention to press a soft kiss to Claude's lips instead. ) I want to see your face when my fingers are inside you.
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He relaxes into the new position as Dimitri kisses along his jaw, hands rubbing over his back and squeezing at his hips. Normally sharp green eyes are hazy, cheeks streaked with tears, and his expression open and vulnerable. And Dimitri says he loves it.]
Dima-- [His heart clenches in his chest at the soft words, the gentleness of the kiss. He keeps an arm wrapped around Dimitri's shoulder, nodding and fighting the urge to hide his burning face there. Dimitri wants to see his face, and he's going to let him.]
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