(no subject)

[gallowseyes]

His day, not to put too fine a point on it, has gone to shit. He'd slipped out of the apartment nearly to go and ride and had been thrown. Thankfully, he'd been on sand, so the bruising is minimal, but the stiffness in his shoulder has lingered all day. He'd gone to do some session work -- cello, not viola de Gamba, which means the instrument, whole familiar, feels less like a part of him. The fingering of the part has been complicated, and he'd managed to break his bow and had to use a spare.

At least he'd been paid.

By the time he lets himself into his apartment, he's in a foul mood but, when he opens the door, he instantly knows that someone else is home.

"Lee?"

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[atehimrightup]

Lee looks up at that, pausing for a moment because he’s not sure why he’s being thanked just then. For all of it, maybe. George needs this, and Lee can give it to him. He’s happy to be that person. He’s honored to be that person.

“You’re welcome,” Lee replies sincerely, voice low. “Just breathe and let yourself feel it. I’m right here.”

He brushes the leather across George’s other cheek and brings it down with another loud snap, all the tails popping one after another like a crackling firework. Another at the small of his back, and then another on the backs of his thighs.

“How do you feel?” He asks after, letting the leash go a little slack and giving George a moment to catch his breath.

[gallowseyes]

George breathes through it, each slap of the leather tails against his skin. It feels like Lee has loosened the leash both literally and metaphorically for a moment and George appreciates it. The pain is new to him -- nobody had ever treated him like this before -- but it's something that he's found that he craves.

"I wonder what it would feel like on my cock," he says, almost dreamily. "Or my chest. Across my nipples."

[atehimrightup]

The answer surprises him a little, though he isn’t sure why. It makes him laugh, low and fond, and he rolls his eyes. What a magnificent little creature he’s found.

“I am not whipping your cock today,” he says in a warm voice, though he does nudge at George’s hip with the handle of the whip, loosening the leash enough for George to move. “Turn over. Bend your knees and put your heels up on the cushions on either side of me and put your arms up over your head. Let me see you.”

[gallowseyes]

Dreamy and drifting as he is, it takes George a moment to figure out exactly what Lee wants him to do. Once he has, he arranges himself, feet up on the sofa and arms draped over his head. He winces, slightly, when spanked skin presses against the rug.

[atehimrightup]

Lee waits patiently as George readjusts himself, reaching down to curl one hand around George’s ankle, pulling his legs open a bit wider. He swishes the whip lightly across his inner thighs, then leans forward to do the same to his chest and stomach.

It’s not hard enough to hurt, more of a tease of sensation than anything else. He sits up and drags the tails over George’s hard cock, and then his balls, while turning up the intensity on the plug at the same time.

He stares at George, studying his face, and then brings the whip down harder against his chest. Not quite as hard as his ass, but enough for him to feel it.

[gallowseyes]

His eyes dark, fixed on Lee's face, George whimpers when the leather snaps across his chest, a few tails just clipping his nipple. His hips twist against the floor but he mostly manages to stay still. He gives Lee the smallest nod because, collar or not, he knows that it's his consent that drives this.

[atehimrightup]

Lee looks up at George’s face and can’t help the relieved smile he gives at the nod, glad that George is checking in with him. It settles him and he nods back, pursing his lips in a quick air kiss.

This time, he brings the whip down against the inside of his thigh hard enough to hear the crack of it. This whip doesn’t leave lasting marks like the handle of the leash, or the flat of Lee’s hand. He likes it for that reason. He can do more without worrying so much about George being in pain later.

Even so, there are pink dots dappled across pale skin and it makes his cock twitch. He flicks the whip over George’s cock again, teasing him with it, and then brings it down harder on his chest, right over one of his nipples.

“How do you feel, George?” He asks again, pulling the leash taut as he cracks the whip against his hip, with one or two of the tails catching the obscene jut of his cock. “You’re being very good.”

[gallowseyes]

George grunts with each of the harder bits, all but squirming when the flail catches him across the nipple. When Lee hits his thigh, leather licking to catch his cock, too, he makes a sound that's part whimper, part sigh.

"Good," he says. Because that's how he feels. Being used like this, by Lee specifically, feels very good indeed. "I want to be good."

[atehimrightup]

Lee doesn’t want to hurt George. He doesn’t get off on making him feel pain, necessarily. He gets off on making George feel good, giving him what he needs even if it hurts. He looks so pretty like this, all flushed and half strung out, and Lee feels oddly calm and relaxed as he snaps the whip high up between his thighs, catching his ass and brushing over his balls.

“Mm, get up, baby. I want you across my lap,” he says as he readjusts himself, thighs spread as he pats the top of one of them. “I’ll get you there with my hand.”

There is nothing he wants more right that than George floating and out of it in his lap while Lee sits there, relaxed and calm, touching George however he wants for as long as he wants.

“Come on, pup,” he says as he tugs on the leash, making the collar tug at the back of George’s neck. “Up.”

[gallowseyes]

Cheeks burning at the name, skin stinging, George gets up, onto his knees at first and then upright enough to arrange himself across Lee's lap, ass up, head down. He's achingly aware of how hard his cock is, even though it feels like he only just came.

[atehimrightup]

Lee watches as George arranges himself, leaning back against the middle of the sofa as George stretches out across his lap along the length of it.

“Get comfortable. You’re gonna be here for a while,” Lee tells him, sliding his hand reverently down the middle of George’s back, patting the base of his spine. “I like these cute little dimples.”

He traces them with his fingertips and then slaps lightly between them. “You know the drill. Give me your wrists.”

[gallowseyes]

Cheek against the sofa cushion, George shifts, putting his hands behind his back and crossing his wrists. He lets his eyes drift close in anticipation of what's about to happen.

[atehimrightup]

It’s routine by now to take the chain of George’s leash and wrap it around his wrists, pinning them together at the small of his back. He looks so pretty, all pale and splotchy pink, and Lee reaches out to curl one hand around the front of George’s neck over the collar, holding his throat in a possessive grip.

His other hand comes down on George’s ass with a slap that seems like it echoes around the room, grip on his throat tightening so he can’t squirm away.

[gallowseyes]

This part is so familiar, so comfortable, that George sinks into it almost immediately. Lee's hand comes down across his arse and he grunts with the impact, rubbing his cheek against velvet. He can already feel himself starting to float.

[atehimrightup]

“Good boy,” Lee murmurs, pausing to turn the plug up higher before continuing. He can see the base vibrating where it’s snug against George’s hole, and he pushes on it to tilt it up a bit, pressing it more firmly against George’s prostate. He holds it there until he whimpers and then lets go, spanking him with three quick, hard blows.

He keeps his hand around George’s neck, watching as he rubs his face against the couch cushion almost mindlessly. It’s like he’s drunk out of his mind, like he’s helpless, and Lee feels absolutely feral with the desire to protect him.

“Who’s my good boy?” Lee asks in a low voice, squeezing harder at George’s throat while spanking him again, hard enough that his palm stings. “Is it you? Say it.”

[gallowseyes]

It's a lot of sensation to process -- the sting of Lee's palm against his skin and the buzz of the toy inside him and the hand around his throat. It takes him a moment to formulate a response.

"Me," he says. "I'm your good boy."

[atehimrightup]

Lee hums his approval and then turns off the toy entirely, letting go of George’s throat to curl his fingers in the chain running down his back. He wants George to focus on just his hand until all he can do is nothing at all.

“I’m right here,” Lee reminds him, slapping his ass until it’s painted red, burning against his palm. “I’ve got you.”

It’s a guttural, sincere promise, and Lee smacks him with such force that he grits his teeth. Somehow, it feels like an act of love.

[gallowseyes]

The noise that that slap forces out of George is undignified and an animal, a loud grunt accompanied but a squirm of his hips. He's floating, and all he can do is swallow and nod. Lee has him. He's safe. He doesn't have to think or plan. All he has to do is feel.

It's glorious.

[atehimrightup]

He can feel it when George slips under, he thinks. His body goes lax and heavy across Lee’s lap, with his cock tucked against Lee’s thigh, and Lee’s pressed against the softest part of George’s stomach.

If anyone so much as reached for George right now, Lee would bite their hand clean off.

“That’s it,” Lee murmurs, palm cracking against the backs of George’s thighs. His other hand cards through George’s hair, a tender counterpoint. He turns the plug back onto the lowest setting to help keep George there, in the peaceful place he’s drifted off to. “Look how good you are for me.”

Another smack, this one a tad lighter. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

[gallowseyes]

He makes soft sounds every time Lee slaps him, but he's at the point now where he feels like he's floating. He'll answer if prompted, he'll do whatever he's told but, mostly, he just wants the sensations and to listen to Lee talk.

[atehimrightup]

Lee eases up after a bit, rubbing his hand over burning skin. His hands travel over every bit of George he can reach, his touch warm and possessive.

“Just relax,” he murmurs, scratching his fingernails lightly across George’s scalp. “Stay just like this, baby. My spoiled little pet.”

Eventually he turns off the toy, not wanting to make him too desensitized to it. George’s ass and thighs are hot pink, his pale skin streaked with marks in the shapes of his fingers. He looks down at George’s face, lashes fanning across his cheeks as he lays there peacefully. His expression is so soft, like he’s never felt worry in his life. It makes Lee’s heart swell with affection.

Lee loosens the chain a bit so that George’s shoulders aren’t wrenched back as much, then reaches for a book he left on the side table.

“We’re going to be quiet for a while,” Lee tells him, opening the book add resting it on George’s back as if he were a table, then begins to read as he drags his nails lightly up and down the back of George’s thigh, pinching at the inside of it every time he has to turn a page.

[gallowseyes]

It ought, he thinks, to be adding to the humiliation that he feels, lying prone with his spanked arse in the air, touched however Lee wants to touch him, his hard cock trapped and ignored beneath him, the plug in his arse inert.

It doesn't, though. Mostly he just feels at peace, drifting dreamily as Lee strokes and pinches.

[atehimrightup]

Lee isn’t sure how much time passes. He doesn’t really keep track. All he knows is that he feels so perfectly at ease. It feels like he has a purpose. Like he has a place he belongs.

Eventually he finishes a chapter and closes his book, tossing it aside and carding his fingers through George’s hair again, tracing the edge of his collar with his fingertips.

His other hand slides down to take hold of the plug and gently easing it out, setting it aside and replacing it with two fingers. They sink in easily, and Lee pulls lightly at George’s hair.

“I think I would do anything for you,” Lee says with a slight furrow in his brow. He’s never felt anything like this before.

[gallowseyes]

George had, it feels like, been almost asleep, utterly content with Lee's hands on him, no noise but soft music and then whispering of turning pages. He stirs when Lee's fingers push into him and he moans, fingers flexing in the small of his back and his hips lifting.

"Same, love," he says, because saying more feels impossible right then. Still, he remembers to correct himself. "Master."

He likes calling Lee that.

[atehimrightup]

Lee enjoys that particular pet name so much that he doesn’t even think twice about it, it he can’t help the fond smirk that spreads across his face when George corrects himself.

“I think I can let that one slide,” he says in a soft voice, chuckling low in his throat as he tugs lightly at George’s hair again. His hand drops to slide under George’s neck again, squeezing over the collar as he adds a third finger, pressing them deep into George’s body.

“Your ass is so red,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on George’s throat in a way that’s almost casual, even as it cuts off most of his airflow. “Between that and what I’m gonna do to you, you’re gonna think of me every time you sit down. I like that.”