Work Text:
"This is the reason you get those headaches," Freya says, running the backs of their fingers across Felix's jaw. "You have to stop clenching it, it's not healthy."
Felix can't answer, of course; his mouth is quite full. But he takes the reminder, intentionally relaxes his tense jaw, lets his furrowed brow relax and smooth out, unclenches his fists where they were curled at his side.
"Much better," Freya tells him, and keeps their hand on his jaw gently as they give him a slow thrust as reward. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, some non-semantic little vocalization. "Would you like me to go faster, or is this pace good?"
He seems to forget that he can't answer verbally, despite the fact that Freya's lovely purple dick is halfway down his throat, and tries to give some sort of word. Freya chooses to interpret this, and says, "Okay, sure, let's keep it slow then," pointedly ignoring his little whine in protest. He is, however, very good, and keeps his face and jaw relaxed, allowing a little drool to slide down the corners of his mouth when they pull out at an equally lazy pace.
They give him a minute or two like this, and watch his face carefully; the slow pace with which they fuck his mouth feels hypnotic -- that is, Freya feels as hypnotized as Felix looks. He looks glassy and relaxed, his eyes open but unfocused, tongue peeking out under their dick on each pull out. They're careful not to go very deep -- this dick is pleasantly malleable and not very large, but they have made the mistake before of getting a little too enthusiastic when fucking his face with the strap in the past, resulting in what Felix reported as an extremely embarrassing couple of days of working with a raspy voice. He has, in the past, very much worked to goad them into fucking his mouth roughly, which is part of why this particular exercise is one that requires an extreme amount of restraint and submission from him -- Felix is not, generally, one to accept slow and gentle fucking, nor to let himself relax throughout the process.
Hence this whole thing, obviously.
He is quite fetching, Freya thinks, looking as soft and receptive as he currently does. They're keeping one hand on his jaw to monitor, make sure he stays as lax as he's been instructed, and the other hand they've curled in a very gentle fist, scruffing the hair at the back of his head like a naughty puppy. He is piled very nicely on some floor cushions at Freya's feet, and his kneeling position is loose and informal; when they started this whole thing, Freya was very into high protocol, very into positioning him and making him kneel correctly , fussing about his posture and gaze, ordering him in and out of eye contact. It gives this, now, an especially cozy and indulgent feel; it feels much more intimate to have him on cushions, let him put his hands wherever he likes (though he is currently banned from touching), to give him no particular instructions other than to be relaxed. Even though they are both still in their work clothes, even though Freya still has their belt and glasses and wallet about them, pressing weirdly against the harness, it feels as comfortable as if they were in very soft pajamas. A strange thought, but Freya is content to let their mind wander a little, finding the steady motion of their own hips lulling them into a kind of dreamlike state.
It takes a number of minutes of this before Freya registers that Felix is moaning, like, quite a lot. They return to the present, and assess him: he is still relaxed, pliant, soft and informally obedient, exactly as they have asked of him. He's also flush-faced and sweaty in his work clothes, eyes dropped closed and drool starting to make a noticable track down the front of his shirt. He's very slightly humping the pillow he's kneeled on, which Freya finds singularly adorable.
"You want something else?" they ask him softly, giving him a bit of a pet on the head, smoothing his sweaty hair back from his brow. They don't free his mouth up enough to let him answer, so he just whines into their dick. "You're being very good, I think I can give you something nice, if you want." He whines more.
Freya considers it for a moment, then pauses in their rhythm, leaving their dick hilted in Felix's slack mouth. "Hold still," they tell him, and carefully keep the dick where it is while taking one hand off his face to undo the buckle at the side of their hip. They have to switch hands to get the other one, and it's a bit of a tricky business but they go slow, keeping one hand on the back of Felix's head the whole time as they carefully extricate themself from the harness and draw back. Felix whines again when they sit back, leaving him there with the dick still in his mouth, harness dangling from it. He's visibly in a bit of a predicament, now - he's been instructed to keep his mouth slack, but can clearly tell that if he doesn't suck, or use his lips over his teeth, or something, the dick is going to slide and fall out of his mouth.
Freya only lets him hang in uncertainty for a moment before sliding their hand down to hold the dick in his slack mouth that way, instead. "Good, good boy," they tell him, and he whines again. "I'm going to take the harness off it, but you'll have it back in a minute. We really should get a way to tie it into your mouth, shouldn't we?" He nods slightly, and presses carefully forward so that his lips brush their fingers where they're holding it, but doesn't fight or fuss when they slide it out of his mouth for a moment, fiddling with the o-ring to slide the dick out of the harness. He leaves his mouth slack and open, a thin trail of drool drawing down it, as he waits.
"Good boy," they say again, and slide the now-freed dick back into his mouth; it goes so soft and easily that Freya moans a little bit, too, this time. This way, fucking his mouth with the dick in their hand, they can reach easily enough to brush their free hand down his chest, scratching the back of a fingernail carefully over his nipples; he whines much louder this time. "Is that so?" they ask, feeling deeply happy and indulgent in watching him fight the urge to screw up his face. They go for it again, scratching over his chest through the soft cotton of his teeshirt, and watch with interest as both of his nipples perk up.
"You can move your head. Keep sucking my dick," they tell him, and hold the dick still while they focus instead on scratching his nipples, then pinching them softly. He does move, and keeps the slow pace they had set earlier, eyes still closed and looking moderately tormented with the effort of not tensing his face or jaw. It’s even sloppier than before, when he’s moving to do it under his own steam - his tongue brushes against their fingers where they’re holding the base, causing them both to moan a little in surprise, and he takes it rather deeper than they’d been giving it to him before, allowing himself long blissful moments with the cock all the way down his throat, swallowing visibly around it. It gives Freya an intense rush of warmth and affection, to see him make a point of deepthroating their cock the very moment he is given an ounce of control over the situation, and their clit throbs in their pants. They consider whether to do something about that, but instead draw a little back, sitting up straighter on the sofa where they’ve been presiding over the goings-on.
Being as they got directly to the emotionally intense relaxation blowjobs the very minute they got inside Freya’s apartment, they’re still wearing their shoes. Felix managed to get barefoot before he got set up into the kneel, which has been kind of nice because it’s allowed Freya to see his toes curling and flexing with pleasure on occasion, but Freya’s got their very very nice work shoes on.
Felix has complimented these particular shoes kind of a lot. Like, every time he’s seen them wear this pair. They are wingtips, of a lovely buttery brown leather, with high-quality low wooden heels that make a deeply satisfying clat when Freya strides across the marble floors of the main library’s entrance. They’re very nice shoes, and Felix is a very unsubtle person, and so it is with a great amount of satisfaction that Freya nudges him up from kneeling to wedge one foot under his crotch, and he gives a loud and grateful moan when he figures out what’s happening.
“You’d like to hump that, I imagine,” they tell him. He nods, a little too vigorously, and disrupts his own cock-sucking rhythm to mild clumsiness. They give him a minute to reset before going on. “You may - you’re going to keep your pants on, you’re not ruining this pair, but if you do manage to come you’re permitted.”
“ Thank you ,” Felix gasps wetly, the first words he’s said this entire time, having to pull his mouth away from the cock in Freya’s hand to manage it. His voice sounds wrecked – not hoarse like his throat has been over-used, but croaky and desperate like he’s forgotten exactly how to speak.
“My very good boy,” Freya says warmly, stroking through his hair with their free hand. “Please don’t stop on my account.”
It does take him a minute to re-establish a rhythm, now coordinating trying to suck the dick in Freya’s hand at the same time as he grinds his own clothed dick down onto the top of Freya’s foot. He has, on occasion where he’s been able to speak, spoken prodigiously about his admiration for Freya’s fine ankles. Freya has, on those occasions, laughed and called him a horny dog. But this feels incredibly, gratifyingly appropriate: he is clearly going to make himself come by humping Freya’s foot, drool all down his chin, unable to speak, and the dog thing feels like a very satisfying cherry on top of the whole deal. Freya briefly, distractedly considers whether to get him a leash before they do this next time.
“Don’t speed up if it’s going to make you tense,” they remind him, a scant moment later, as he mis-judges a thrust and chokes himself on their dick slightly. “You can lean forward on me, and you may choose the pace, but if you tense we will stop until you can reset.”
He whines, and stutters to a brief halt; this, too, is something Freya likes to see enormously. Watching a sub struggle to meet the brief, and have to stop so they don’t get overwhelmed and mess up, is very satisfying. It is even more satisfying because it is Felix, because he still looks so soft and comfortable, because he feels hot and lovely when his crotch makes it up above the shoe so Freya can feel his heat through their thin socks. They thoroughly enjoy the minute that he takes to reset himself, and when he starts grinding again it is slower, more deliberate, but he has returned his furrowed brow and tense jaw back to the appropriate slackness. Freya dearly appreciates how much focus and concentration it must take him, especially if he is aiming to actually make himself come; they know already that if he manages it, there will be a moment where he likely can’t control his face muscles, and they haven’t decided yet whether that will be an opportunity for some pleasant punishment or whether to forgive him.
“Look at me,” they tell him after a moment, and he does instantly. They know he finds eye contact to be intense to the point of overstimulation at times, which is one of the reasons they particularly enjoy demanding it of him. His eyes are watering slightly because he keeps taking their dick so deep down his throat, and his tongue is hanging out completely at this point. It would look comical if it weren’t so hot; their clit throbs again, and they nudge the foot that’s wedged under him up slightly to make him whimper.
A long moment of the sustained eye contact is clearly starting to get to him; Felix is whining almost continuously now, and his pace is picking up again. He keeps his jaw admirably slack, and lets his thrusting against Freya’s foot move his whole body into sucking the dick.
“Beautiful boy. Are you going to come for me?” He manages a muffled Mhm around his full mouth. “Good, you should.” Freya’s other hand, the hand not holding the dick that Felix is sucking, drifts up to grab their own breast over their shirt. They feel hot all over, and their own hips have started to make unconscious little grinding motions on the couch. “Show me, keep looking at me when you come, let me see how much you like it.”
Devastatingly, Felix pauses then, and pulls his head back for a moment to talk. Freya briefly and uncharitably considers slapping him, but decides against it. “Can I touch,” he says, and it takes Freya’s brain a long moment to figure out what he’s even asking. They remember his hands dangling at his sides -- he’s been forbidden from touching thusfar, himself or them. “Not to- not that. Can I use my hands to hold,” he keeps trying to articulate, though his hips are still grinding apace and he’s having very visible difficulty stringing words together. “Um. Leverage?”
Freya figures out what the fuck he’s trying to ask for and nods quickly. “Yes, sure, you can,” whereupon Felix immediately wraps his big arms completely around Freya’s legs. It’s one of those rare times when they remember just how large he is, despite how he makes himself small for Freya’s benefit, to have his whole body wrapped around their bottom half as he humps against them, and goes back to sucking their dick sloppily. They have to brace the base of the cock against their own knee to keep it steady for him, and it’s another thing that should be funny but is mostly just bizarrely fucking hot. He’s maintained eye contact, or else is doing a very good job of feigning it, and is getting the glassy and wild look in his face that suggests he’s close.
“Come on, baby,” Freya tells him, fisting their hand in the hair at the nape of his neck once again. They can’t tell if it’s the hand in his hair, or the instruction, or just that he finally now has the angle he needs, but whatever it is, they can tell the moment he tips over the edge - his eyes shut and his head drops down, mouth panting open and leaving a damp spot of drool on their nice slack as he grinds down against their foot and full-body shudders for a long moment. “Good boy, beautiful boy,” they intone, stroking his hair as he comes down from it, shaking. They don’t try to move him for a minute, let him just slump against their legs and drool a little. It’s pretty cute.
Felix finally looks up, after his thighs have stopped clenching around Freya’s ankle. “Very good boy,” they tell him one more time, smiling softly. His eyes are wet.
“I’m so sweaty,” he says. “Why the fuck did we do that fully dressed. What the fuck.”
“You needed to wind down, I think,” Freya says warmly, pulling on him a little to unfold him from his position wrapped all around their legs. He lets himself be pulled up onto the couch, and rests his head in their lap. “How’s that?”
“You called me baby,” he says, eyes closed and very clearly basking in the attention. “I think you like me.”
“I seem to recall calling you a number of things.”
“We’re ordering takeout. Did you want to come too?” He opens his eyes just long enough to study Freya’s face.
“Later,” Freya tells him. “You order it.” He fishes his phone out of where it is, incredibly, still in his pocket, and starts poking at the app.
“Can’t believe you got the harness on and off without taking your pants off. Are you still wearing your belt?” Felix laughs as he flips through menus. They are in fact still wearing their belt, and with Felix now laid out in their lap it’s poking uncomfortably. Freya makes him move so they can slide that off, at least. He gives a dry little kiss to their knuckle as they do so. “I’m doing Thai, are we getting the usual? And I’m going to go change and shower while it’s on the way,” he adds, grimacing a little at the spots of damp and drying spit down his shirt.
“That’s fine,” Freya tells him, and then pauses for a second. They brush their hand against his jaw, and he lets them tilt his face to inspect it. “Good,” they say, when they’re satisfied that he hasn’t returned to clenching his jaw. “I’m going to keep checking on that.”
“Yeah, alright,” Felix says, and kisses their wrist where he can reach it.