Chapter Text
Tony had always been strict with Stephen, just as Stephen had wanted when he first came to him five years ago, practically begging to be kept in line. Tony still remembered the conversation: Stephen had looked so vulnerable, his usual cocky confidence gone, as he confessed his need for someone who would hold him accountable and wouldn’t let him get away with anything. Tony had agreed without hesitation, and he’d been more than happy to oblige, setting the firm rules Stephen seemed to crave.
But this week, Stephen had been different. He was brattier than usual, testing Tony’s patience at every turn. At first, Tony had allowed it, chalking it up to a bad mood or stress. He knew Stephen well enough to recognize the signs. But it became clear after a few days that this wasn’t just a passing phase. Stephen was being deliberately difficult, challenging him with every word, every defiant glare. He was provoking Tony, begging for a reaction without saying it outright.
Tony knew exactly what Stephen needed. He’d seen this before, the way Stephen’s petulance masked his deeper needs. He was acting out, testing the boundaries Tony had set, almost daring him to push back. And Tony had had enough. He wasn’t one to let things slide — especially not when it came to Stephen’s behavior.
It started earlier that evening when Stephen snapped at him for something trivial, his tone sharp and disrespectful. Tony’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing at first, just watched Stephen closely. Then, when Stephen rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath a few minutes later, it was the final straw.
“That’s enough,” Tony said, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that made the hair on the back of Stephen’s neck stand up. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbing Stephen’s wrist with a firm but controlled grip. Stephen tried to pull away, but Tony’s hold tightened.
“I’ve let this go on for too long,” Tony continued. “You’ve been pushing me, Stephen, and I think it’s time you remember why you came to me in the first place.”
Stephen’s bravado faltered for a split second, a flicker of something that looked almost like relief passing over his face before he masked it with a scowl.
“Oh, have I? Maybe you’re just—”
“Enough,” Tony snapped, cutting him off. He pulled Stephen closer, forcing him to look up into his eyes. “You wanted this, remember? You wanted someone who wouldn’t let you get away with anything. Me. Well, congratulations, Stephen. You’ve got what you asked for.”
There was a beat of silence as Stephen stared back at him, the defiance starting to crumble slightly. Tony held his gaze and he knew he had him. Stephen might be acting out, but this was what he needed — someone to take control, to strip away the power he was so desperate to give up but too stubborn to admit.
“Go to the playroom,” Tony ordered, his voice leaving no argument. “Now.”
For a moment, Stephen hesitated, his rebellion clinging stubbornly. But then, he gave a quick nod and walked to the playroom without another word.
Tony watched Stephen go, his arms crossed. He’d been patient, giving Stephen more leniency than usual. But that patience had its limits. Stephen had been pushing him for days, and Tony could see the challenge in his eyes, the thin smirk that dared him to do something about it.
“Stephen,” Tony said calmly, as he walked into the playroom behind him, “we both know why you’re acting like this. You want me to put you back in your place. You want to fight me on this, but we both know how it ends.”
Stephen’s jaw clenched. He didn’t respond, just glared at Tony with that petulant, stubborn look he’d been wearing all week. Tony almost smirked, it was the look of someone who knew they were about to lose but was determined to make it difficult anyway. And it was Stephen Strange all over.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Tony said, stepping closer. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t have to. His presence alone was enough to make Stephen tense up. “You wanted this, Stephen. You begged for it, remember?”
“I don’t need you to remind me,” Stephen shot back, his voice sharp, but there was an edge of desperation to it now, a slight tremble he couldn’t quite hide. He knew where this was going, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself.
“Don’t you?” Tony asked, arching an eyebrow. He reached out, grabbing Stephen by the chin, tilting his head back so their eyes met. Stephen tried to pull back, but Tony’s grip was firm. “You’ve forgotten your place, Stephen. It’s my job to remind you.”
Stephen pulled away, the flash of rebellion bright and angry. “I haven’t forgotten anything,” he spat. He took a step back, folding his arms over his chest like a defiant teenager. “Maybe you’re the one who needs reminding.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed, and he took a deep breath, letting the silence hang heavy between them. Stephen’s chest was rising and falling quickly, his breathing uneven, and Tony knew he was close to breaking down this charade.
“You think you can talk to me like that and get away with it?” Tony asked, his voice deceptively calm. “You really think I’m going to let this slide?”
“Maybe I do,” Stephen shot back, but his voice cracked slightly. He took another step back, but he was out of room, the wall being right behind him now.
“Then you’re even more delusional than I thought,” Tony said softly. He moved in closer, pinning Stephen against the wall with one hand pressed firmly to his chest. Stephen squirmed, trying to push him away, but Tony barely budged. “You asked for this, Stephen. You wanted someone who wouldn’t let you get away with anything. You wanted someone who would make you behave. And now, when you get exactly what you need, you fight it?”
“You don’t know what I need.”
Tony’s grip tightened slightly, moving to rest at his throat, just enough to make his point clear. “I know you better than you know yourself, Stephen.” He leaned in, their faces inches apart. “You can fight me all you want, but we both know how this ends. I’ll give you one more chance to behave, to show me that you remember your place. If you keep pushing, though…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
Stephen glared at him, still defiant. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched at his sides as though he was trying to hold onto the last shreds of his rebellion.
“I’m not going to just… give in,” Stephen said, but the words lacked conviction.
Tony’s expression softened just a fraction, but his grip didn’t loosen. “You don’t have to give in, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’ll take what I need from you. And you’ll give it, because deep down, this is what you want. This is what you need. And we both know it.”
Stephen shuddered, his eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them again, Tony saw something raw and vulnerable there, like the mask he’d been wearing had finally slipped.
“I hate you,” Stephen whispered, but it was hollow, almost pleading. Stephen always said something along those lines, something that he knew would rile up the Dom.
Tony’s mouth twisted into a small, knowing smile. He brought his hand up to cup Stephen’s cheek, forcing him to look into his eyes. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. “You love me for this. For being the one who doesn’t let you get away with anything. For being the one who makes sure you know your place.”
Stephen swallowed hard, his whole body trembling now. He tried to turn his head away, but Tony held him firm.
“Say it,” Tony demanded, his voice soft but unyielding. “Say you know your place.”
There was a long moment where Stephen just stared at him, but then, something flickered in his expression. He took a step to the side, and then another. He was shaking his head as he backed slowly through the door and down the corridor. “No,” he muttered.
Tony’s eyebrow shot up, a look of amused disbelief spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but chuckle, a low, rumbling sound that was more exasperation than anything else. “Really, Stephen? You’re going to walk away from me now? After all of that?” The deeper his sub dug his hole the more fun he would have dragging him out of it.
Stephen didn’t answer. He just turned on his heel, putting more distance between them.
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before glancing up at the ceiling as if it held the answers. “Jarvis,” he called out, his voice dry with amusement and a touch of irritation now. “Do something to my submissive to stop him from walking away from me.”
There was a brief pause, and then the disembodied voice of Tony’s AI assistant filled the room, smooth and almost cheerful. “Of course, sir. Shall I initiate lockdown?”
Stephen froze mid-step, his head snapping around to look at Tony, eyes wide with surprise and something else — anticipation, maybe, or the thrill of the unexpected. “Tony, you wouldn’t—”
Tony’s smirk was one of complete satisfaction, the look of a predator who’d just cornered his prey. “Oh, but I would,” he replied calmly. “You seem to have forgotten who you belong to, Stephen. So now, I’m going to remind you. Do it, Jarvis."
There was a soft click, and the door behind Stephen locked. He turned back to the door, testing the handle in vain, a frustrated noise escaping his lips.
“Jarvis, initiate restraint mode level two,” Tony ordered casually, folding his arms as he watched Stephen’s every move.
“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis responded smoothly.
In an instant, sleek, silver restraints slid out from a space on the wall, moving with precision. Stephen’s eyes went wide, watching in bewilderment. The cuffs snapped around his wrists and ankles. Then they pulled him back against the wall, spread wide.
“Damn it, Tony!” Stephen growled, tugging at the restraints, his defiance back in full force. He strained against the metal, but it was useless; the AI had done its job perfectly, the way it always did.
Tony sauntered over, taking his time, enjoying the sight of Stephen struggling against the cuffs. “You really thought you could just walk away from me?” Tony asked, his tone deceptively light. He reached out, tracing a finger down Stephen’s jawline, smirking when Stephen tried to turn his head away. “After everything we’ve been through?”
Stephen glared at him, breathing hard, but Tony could see the way his resolve was crumbling. “You’re a jackass,” Stephen spat out, but his voice was shaky, the anger now mingling with something softer, more vulnerable.
Tony leaned in closer, his face mere inches from Stephen’s. “No, I’m your jackass,” he corrected, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “And you’re my submissive. My pet. My responsibility. You don’t get to just walk away from me and you don’t get to talk to me the way you have in the last several days.”
Stephen’s breath hitched, his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at Tony with a small smirk.
Tony's patience had finally worn thin. The look on Stephen’s face, that infuriating smirk as he tried to pull away again, was the last straw. Tony stepped forward, moving faster than Stephen could react. He grabbed Stephen by the throat, squeezing just enough to make his point clear.
“Where is your place, pet?” Tony’s voice was low, almost a growl. He tilted Stephen’s head up, forcing him to look into his eyes. The defiance that had been simmering there faltered again but he didn’t say anything.
Tony’s expression hardened. He leaned in closer, his face a mask of cold, calculated dominance. “You think I’m playing games with you, Stephen? You think this is a negotiation?” He tightened his grip just a fraction, enough to make Stephen gasp. “I’m done with the games. Now, I asked you a question, and you will answer me.”
Stephen swallowed, the movement restricted by Tony’s hand around his throat. He struggled to speak, “I... I’m—”
“You’re what?” Tony snapped, cutting him off. He gave a rough squeeze, feeling the pulse under his fingers. “Say it, or I’ll make sure you can’t say anything for a while.”
Stephen’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he forced them open again, meeting Tony’s gaze with a flicker of submission finally starting to break through. “I’m yours,” he managed, voice barely a whisper. “My place is... is at your feet.”
Tony’s lips twisted into a satisfied smile. “That’s right,” he murmured, easing his grip just slightly but not letting go. “Your place is at my feet. Where I put you.” He leaned in, his tone dropping even lower, more dangerous. “And if you ever try to walk away from me like that again, I’ll make sure you remember this moment very clearly.”
Stephen’s breath hitched, a shudder running through his body as he nodded quickly. “Yes, sir,” he choked out.
“Good,” Tony said, his smile cold and unrelenting. He finally released Stephen’s throat, but not before dragging his thumb slowly across his lips, a deliberate show of power. “Now get on your knees, pet. Show me that you remember your place. And don’t make me ask twice. Jarvis, release the cuffs from the wall,” Tony commanded. He didn’t look at Stephen as he said it, eyes fixed somewhere past him, already planning what came next.
With a soft click, the restraints loosened, and Stephen slumped forward, dropping to his knees with a heavy, ungraceful thud. He caught himself with his hands, shoulders heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. For a moment, he just stayed there, head bowed, his body shaking with the adrenaline and humiliation of it all.
Tony stepped closer, not giving him a second to gather himself. He reached down, his fingers tangling in Stephen’s hair, yanking his head back sharply. The movement forced Stephen’s eyes up to meet his, and Tony didn’t hold back the contempt in his gaze. “Look at you,” Tony sneered, tightening his grip, pulling hard enough to make Stephen wince. “On your knees, right where you belong. Is this what you wanted? Is this what you were begging for with all that bratty bullshit?”
Stephen’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he didn’t look away. He met Tony’s stare with a mix of fear and something darker, something hungry that only spurred Tony on.
“That’s what I thought,” Tony growled. He gave another rough tug, forcing Stephen’s head back even further. “You can fight me all you want, but we both know how this ends, don’t we, pet? You on your knees, looking up at me like this. Pathetic. Desperate. Needing me to put you back in your place.”
Stephen’s lips trembled, but he nodded, the movement awkward with the way Tony held him. “Y-yes, sir,” he managed to choke out.
Tony’s eyes narrowed, and he let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “You think this is the end of your punishment?” He leaned down, his face inches from Stephen’s, his breath hot against his skin. “This is just the beginning, pet. You’re going to remember who you belong to by the time I’m done with you.”
He yanked Stephen’s head to the side, making him cry out, a sharp, pained sound that echoed in the hall. “And you won’t forget again, will you?” Tony’s voice was a harsh whisper, full of promised retribution.
“No, sir,” Stephen gasped, his hands scrabbling for purchase on Tony’s thighs, trying to ground himself.
“Good,” Tony spat, his grip easing slightly. He petted Stephen’s hair almost mockingly, the gesture at odds with the roughness of his actions just moments before. “Because I don’t tolerate disobedience, and I certainly don’t tolerate brats who think they can walk away from me.”
He gave Stephen’s hair one last sharp pull before releasing him, watching with cold satisfaction as Stephen sagged forward, gasping for breath, his hands still clutching at Tony’s legs like they were the only thing keeping him upright.
“Now,” Tony said, his voice low and commanding, “get those hands off me, you don’t get to touch me until I know you remember your place.”
Stephen settled back on his knees, dropping his hands to his thighs, away from the Dom.
“Hands behind your back,” Tony ordered. He reached out, fingers curling under Stephen’s chin, forcing him to lift his head. “I want to see that defiant little face of yours while you do it.”
Stephen obeyed immediately, clasping his hands behind his back, fingers interlocked tightly in his normal position. It wasn’t comfortable; Tony knew it wouldn’t be. It left him exposed, vulnerable, chest pushed forward as he knelt there, waiting for whatever Tony decided to do next.
Tony smirked, running his thumb roughly over Stephen’s bottom lip, dragging it down slightly. “Open,” he commanded.
Stephen hesitated for the briefest of moments, eyes wide and uncertain, but he complied, parting his lips slowly, breath warm against Tony’s skin.
“That’s better,” Tony muttered, sliding his thumb into Stephen’s mouth, pressing down against his tongue with just enough pressure to make him gag slightly. He watched Stephen’s eyes water, the way he instinctively tried to pull back but caught himself, staying still, obedient.
“You look good like this,” Tony said, his tone almost conversational. “All that attitude gone. All that fight stripped away.” He pulled his thumb out of Stephen’s mouth. “This is where you belong, isn’t it? Kneeling at my feet, with nothing to say unless I allow it.”
Stephen swallowed hard, the blush on his cheeks deepening, but he nodded, the movement jerky and desperate. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.
“Say it,” Tony snapped. “Say it so I can hear it.”
Stephen’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, a shiver running through his body before he forced himself to look up at Tony, meeting his gaze. “I belong at your feet, sir,” he said.
A satisfied, almost predatory smile spread across Tony’s face. He tangled his hand in Stephen’s hair again, tugging sharply, making him tilt his head back, baring his throat. “Damn right you do,” Tony said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. He leaned down, bringing his face close to Stephen’s, his grip unrelenting. “You wanted me to show you who’s in charge. Well, here I am, Stephen. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you. Now stay like that. Don’t move a muscle. You’re going to stay on your knees until I decide you’ve earned the right to stand again.”
Stephen didn’t respond, staring down at the floor.
“That’s my good boy,” Tony said, his voice a low rumble. “Now, keep that mouth shut unless I ask you a question. And pray I’m in a forgiving mood when I do.” He looked down at Stephen, who knelt there with his eyes wide, chest heaving as if he were bracing himself for what he knew was coming. Tony’s hand, still tangled in Stephen’s hair, yanked harshly, forcing his head back until Stephen’s throat was exposed and he could see into his eyes.
“You think this is a game, don’t you?” Tony’s voice was low and dangerous. “You think I’m in the mood to coddle you, to go easy on you just because you’re finally kneeling where you belong?”
Stephen winced, the sharp pull on his hair sending a jolt of pain through his scalp, but he didn’t try to pull away, not anymore. He knew better. He could see the look in Tony’s eyes, the dark, merciless glint that told him he’d pushed too far, that the last few days of bratty behavior had consequences he wasn’t going to escape. Still, somehow the last shred of defiance flared in him, making him grit his teeth.
“I’m not... asking you to go easy,” Stephen muttered with an edge of insolence there, like he couldn’t help himself.
Tony’s grip tightened, yanking his head back further, enough that Stephen let out a strangled gasp. “Oh, I know you’re not,” Tony said, his tone ice-cold. “But you’d better believe that you’re going to regret the attitude.”
He shoved Stephen back, watching with satisfaction as he fell, barely catching himself on his hands. He looked up at Tony, eyes wild, a mixture of fear and something darker. Tony could see it — the way Stephen was trying to mask his submission with bravado, the way he still clung to that last bit of rebellion even now, when it was clear who held the power.
“Jarvis,” Tony barked without looking away from Stephen, “initiate full restraint mode.”
There was a soft, mechanical whir, and Stephen barely had time to react before the cuffs around his wrists and ankles forced him into a kneeling position. This time, the restraints pulled his hands behind his back, forcing his back straight, leaving him completely at Tony’s mercy.
“Tony—” Stephen started, but Tony cut him off with a harsh slap across the face, not hard enough to hurt him seriously, but enough to leave a sting.
“You don’t get to speak,” Tony snarled. “Not unless I give you permission. You wanted to fight me? You wanted to act like a spoiled little brat? Fine. But now you’re going to see what happens when I stop being lenient.”
Stephen’s eyes flickered with panic, and he tried to shake his head, but Tony’s hold was unrelenting. “I—”
“You don’t get to speak!” Tony snapped again, shoving Stephen’s head back, making him choke on whatever plea he’d been about to utter. “You had your chance to behave. You had your chance to submit the easy way. Now we do this my way.”
Tony stepped back, rolling up his sleeves as he watched Stephen struggle against the restraints, the panic building in his eyes as he realized he couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. He looked up at Tony, his defiance finally crumbling, replaced with raw, unfiltered fear.
“Look at you,” Tony sneered. “Finally, you understand, don’t you? You’re not in control here. You never were.” He crouched down in front of Stephen, their faces level. He grabbed Stephen’s throat again, squeezing just enough to cut off his breath, to make his eyes widen with fear.
Stephen’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, then he nodded as much as Tony’s grip would allow, his whole body trembling now, the last of his resistance finally shattered.
Tony held him there for a moment longer, just staring into his eyes, making sure the message had sunk in. Then he released him abruptly, watching as Stephen gasped for air, his head hanging low, shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Good,” Tony said, standing up straight, looking down at Stephen with a cold, satisfied smile. “Are you remembering your place?”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen whispered.
“Good,” the Dom repeated. “Because you’re going to spend the rest of the night proving it to me.” He leaned down, grabbing a fistful of Stephen's hair once more, yanking his head back to force him to look up. “In fact,” Tony said, his voice dripping with cruel amusement, “you’re probably going to spend days proving it to me. It took you days to act like a brat, after all. It’s only fair I get my time back, don’t you think?”
Stephen’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic flashing across his face. He opened his mouth, but Tony’s grip tightened before he could utter a sound.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tony snapped. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.” He released Stephen’s hair with a rough shove, making him stumble slightly despite the restraints holding him in place. “You wanted my attention so badly? Now you’ve got it, pet. And you’re going to regret every second of it.”
He turned his gaze upward, not sparing Stephen another glance. “Jarvis, continue,” Tony ordered smoothly, his tone calm and collected, like he was discussing a minor inconvenience instead of what was about to happen.
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis responded, his voice as neutral as ever. There was a whirring sound as the restraints tightened further, pulling Stephen’s arms back painfully, spreading his knees wider to accommodate the cuffs on his ankles. The cuffs then began to hum with an electric current, a faint buzz that vibrated through Stephen’s body, making him shudder.
Stephen’s breath hitched, a choked whimper escaping his lips despite his best efforts to hold it back. He looked up at Tony with wide, pleading eyes, his fear and desperation clear now, all traces of defiance gone.
Tony just smirked, watching him struggle. He crouched down again, reaching out to trail a finger along Stephen’s cheek, almost gently, but the gesture was mocking. “You wanted to push me, Stephen. You wanted to see how far you could go.” He tilted Stephen’s chin up with a firm, almost painful grip. “Well, congratulations. Now you get to see exactly what happens when I stop being nice. And to answer the question I know you want to ask me, I've been waiting ages to test this system out.”
He stood up, giving one last nod to the ceiling. “Jarvis, increase the current by twenty percent. And don’t stop until I say so.”
Stephen’s whole body jolted as the cuffs sent a sharp, buzzing vibration through him, just enough to make his muscles spasm, to keep him on edge without causing real harm. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds of his own distress, but a low, broken moan slipped out anyway.
Tony’s smile was all teeth now, cold and predatory. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he watched Stephen shudder and writhe, unable to escape the relentless sensation coursing through his body. “You’ve got a long few days ahead of you, pet,” Tony said softly, almost conversationally. “And by the time I’m done, you won’t remember what it feels like to defy me. You won’t even think about it.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “I’m going to make sure you know your place so well, you’ll dream about it. You’ll wake up every morning knowing exactly who owns you. And you’ll thank me for it.”
Stephen whimpered, his head falling forward, unable to hold himself up any longer. He nodded weakly.
Tony’s expression softened, but it was a cruel softness, the kind that promised no mercy. He reached out, wiping a tear from Stephen’s cheek with his thumb. “Good boy,” he murmured mockingly. “Now, let’s see just how long it takes for you to learn your lesson this time.”
Tony didn’t bother looking back as he walked away, the sound of Stephen’s ragged, labored breathing filling the room. It was a delicious sound, one he’d been waiting to hear for days — the noise of his submissive finally breaking. He paused near the control panel on the wall, leaning against it casually, as though this entire situation was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
“Jarvis,” Tony said calmly, fingers brushing along the touchscreen interface. “Increase the current by another twenty percent. Let’s see if that doesn’t make him a bit more compliant.”
“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis responded, and there was a distinct, almost mechanical hum as the cuffs reacted, the electric charge amplifying.
“Please—” Stephen managed to whisper, a desperate plea escaping before he could think better of it, Stephen was used to Tony’s tech, but he had gone from 0-60 real quick.
Tony’s head snapped around, his expression instantly darkening. He stalked back toward Stephen, closing the distance in just a few steps. He crouched down, grabbing Stephen’s face roughly, fingers digging into his cheeks. “Did I say you could speak?” he hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You’re already disobeying me again? After everything I just said?”
Stephen whimpered, shaking his head as much as Tony’s grip would allow. He looked utterly wrecked — eyes wide, lips parted in a silent plea, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. But Tony showed no sympathy. If anything, the sight seemed to harden his resolve.
“You don’t get to beg for mercy,” Tony growled. “Not after the way you’ve behaved. You brought this on yourself, pet. You asked for this.”
He released Stephen’s face with a sharp shove, sending him back onto his heels. Stephen’s hands clenched into fists behind his back, the restraints preventing him from moving, from shielding himself from the sensation coursing through him.
Tony’s smile was almost cruel, devoid of any softness now. He watched Stephen crumble, the last shreds of his resistance falling away. “You’re finally starting to understand, aren’t you?” he asked, tilting his head as he observed Stephen’s trembling form. “You thought you could defy me. You thought you could walk away. But look at you now.”
He reached down, threading his fingers through Stephen’s sweat-damp hair, yanking his head up. “Look at me,” Tony ordered, his voice a sharp crack of authority. “Look at who owns you.”
Stephen’s eyes open, and he forced himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Y-you do,” he whispered, the words spilling out in a broken sob. “You own me, sir. I’m yours.”
Tony’s smile widened, a dark satisfaction filling his expression. “That’s right,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “You’re mine. Every inch of you belongs to me. And I’m going to spend the next few days making sure you never forget that again.”
He stood up, releasing Stephen’s hair with a rough shove that made him slump forward once more. Tony turned back to the control panel, glancing at it thoughtfully for a moment. “Jarvis,” he said, almost absently, “increase the restraint duration. Let’s keep him here like this for a few hours. He needs time to reflect on his behavior.”
“Of course, sir,” Jarvis responded, the cuffs humming with renewed energy as they locked into place, ensuring Stephen wouldn’t be able to move, wouldn’t be able to do anything but kneel there and take it.
Stephen let out a shuddering breath, his body sagging against the restraints. He looked up at Tony, eyes full of desperation and surrender, but he didn’t dare speak again. He knew better now.
Tony glanced back at him, a satisfied, almost serene look on his face. “Good boy,” he murmured. “That’s what I like to see. Quiet. Obedient. Exactly where you belong.”
He stepped back, turning away from Stephen with an air of finality, as though dismissing him from his thoughts entirely. “I’ve got work to do,” Tony said, almost to himself. “You can stay right here, pet. Take all the time you need to remember your place.”
And with that, he left Stephen kneeling there, the sound of the restraints buzzing softly in the background. As the door closed behind Tony, sealing Stephen in the room, the silence was broken only by the sound of his quiet, broken sobs.
***
Stephen’s breath hitched, and his muscles clenched instinctively as another wave of electricity buzzed through the restraints, making his body seize up momentarily. He gritted his teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to ride it out. But it didn’t take long for him to realize something: it wasn’t the shock itself that hurt the most. The pain was sharp, yes, but it was nothing compared to the pain of the crash or anything that had hurt him since.
No, it wasn’t the pain itself that got to him. It was the continuity of it — the relentless, unending sensation that wouldn’t let up. It was the way it ebbed and flowed, never strong enough to knock him out, but always enough to keep him on edge, his nerves frayed and raw. He realized, almost distantly, that it wasn’t the intensity of the punishment that Tony was relying on. It was the consistency, the way it kept his body in a perpetual state of discomfort, of heightened awareness.
But every time he tensed up — every time his muscles clenched in anticipation of the next jolt — it only made it worse. The current seemed to spike when his body was rigid, the sensation sharper, more unbearable. It was as if the cuffs were designed to sense his resistance, feeding off his tension, amplifying the effect as a punishment for trying to fight it.
Stephen forced himself to exhale slowly, deliberately unclenching his fists behind his back. He let his head fall forward, his body going limp, and the next shock that coursed through him was different. It still hurt, but it was muted, less sharp. He realized with a faint, bitter laugh that this was part of the lesson Tony wanted him to learn. Submission wasn’t just about words. It wasn’t just about kneeling and saying the right things. It was about letting go, about not fighting against the control being exerted over him.
Another wave hit him and this time, Stephen breathed through it, his body staying relaxed, accepting the sensation instead of resisting it. It was still painful, yes, but he could manage it now. He could endure it.
Tony had known exactly what he was doing when he’d told Jarvis what to do. He knew Stephen’s body, knew his limits better than anyone, the realization of how thoroughly Tony had bested him was enough to be frustrated if he had the energy. He’d thought he could fight this, thought he could hold on to some semblance of control. But Tony had stripped that away piece by piece embarrassing easy.
Stephen slumped forward, head hanging low as the restraints continued their relentless buzzing. His whole body felt numb, the constant vibration dulling his senses, making it hard to think. He swallowed hard, licking his dry lips before whispering hoarsely, “Jarvis… how much longer?”
Silence filled the room. There was no reply, only the low hum of the cuffs and the faint whirring of the machinery embedded in the walls. Stephen’s brow furrowed, frustration bubbling up through the haze of pain and exhaustion. He took a shuddering breath and tried again, louder this time. “Dammit, Jarvis, answer me!”
There was a pause, as if the AI was considering its response, before the cool, neutral voice finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Doctor Strange, but I am unable to fulfill your request.”
Stephen’s eyes snapped open, a flash of panic mixing with irritation. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t—”
In Tony’s lab, several floors away, a soft chime interrupted his work. Tony didn’t look up from his project, the welding torch in his hand sending sparks flying as he fused two pieces of metal together. He glanced at the holographic display hovering above his workstation, noticing the alert with a raised eyebrow.
“Jarvis, report,” Tony said casually, lowering the torch.
“Sir,” Jarvis began smoothly, “Doctor Strange is attempting to communicate with me regarding his… current situation.”
Tony chuckled, setting the torch aside and wiping his hands with a rag. “Is he now?” He leaned back against the table, a smirk spreading across his face. “What did he ask?”
“He inquired, rather impatiently, about the duration,” Jarvis replied, almost primly.
Tony laughed, the sound sharp and amused, echoing through the lab. “Of course he did. Always trying to find a way around the rules.” He pushed off the table, rolling his sleeves up further as he began to make his way toward the exit. “Did you answer him, Jarvis?”
“I did not, sir. I believed it was your directive not to respond to unauthorized requests.”
Tony grinned, pleased. “Good boy, Jarvis. Always following orders, unlike some people I could mention.” He tapped a button on the display, pulling up the live feed from the room where Stephen was restrained. He watched for a moment, his expression darkening as he took in the sight of Stephen slumped forward, trembling.
“Patch me through,” Tony ordered. His voice went cold, the amusement gone, replaced with a hard, unyielding edge. “It’s time my pet remembered who’s really in charge here.”
A soft chime sounded in the room where Stephen knelt, signaling the connection. He looked up, bleary-eyed and disoriented, blinking as the sound filled the space.
“Looking for a way out already, Stephen?” Tony’s voice came through the speakers, sharp and cutting. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out you were trying to manipulate Jarvis?”
Stephen’s head snapped up, his breath hitching. “Tony—” he started, but Tony’s voice cut him off.
“No,” Tony snapped. “You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to ask for mercy, and you definitely don’t get to question my AI behind my back.”
Stephen flinched, biting down hard on his lip, his eyes wide as he looked around the room like he could somehow see Tony, even though he knew he was floors away, watching him through the cameras.
“You’re in this position because you earned it,” Tony continued, his voice unyielding, like iron. “You wanted to act like a brat? Fine. Now you get to suffer like one. And if you keep trying to cheat your way out of it, I’ll extend this session by another day. Maybe two. Maybe longer, if I’m feeling particularly unforgiving.”
Stephen’s whole body sagged, a broken, defeated noise escaping him. He tried to speak again, but the words died on his lips, the fear of making things worse holding him back.
“Now,” Tony’s voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, full of dark, dangerous promise. “You’re going to stay right where you are, and you’re going to take this punishment like the good, obedient pet I know you can be. And if you ask Jarvis another question without my permission, you’ll regret it. Understood?”
Stephen swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he nodded frantically, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he managed to whisper, voice thick with shame and submission.
“Good,” Tony said sharply. “Now be quiet, and suffer in silence like you were told. I’ll come up when I’m good and ready. Not a second before.”
The line went dead, and the room fell back into the eerie, buzzing silence, save for Stephen’s labored breathing. He slumped forward, his forehead nearly touching the floor, as the realization hit him: Tony wasn’t going to let up. He wasn’t going to give him an inch.
And for all his bravado, all his attempts to manipulate his way out of it, Stephen knew now that he’d lost. He was exactly where Tony wanted him, and there would be no reprieve until Tony decided he’d had enough. And if he was honest, it was where he wanted to be.
***
The sound of footsteps echoed through the room, slow and deliberate. Stephen tensed, his head snapping up, eyes wide as he realized Tony was here, standing in the doorway, watching him with that cold, calculated look that made his blood run cold.
Tony’s smile was thin, almost cruel, as he stepped closer, the click of his shoes on the floor sharp and precise. He crouched down in front of Stephen, reaching out to grab his chin, forcing his head up. He held him there, staring down at him with a look of pure dominance. “Look at you,” Tony said, almost softly, but there was no kindness in his voice. “Crying on the floor like a beaten dog. Is this what you wanted, Stephen? Is this what you’ve been begging for?”
Stephen couldn’t hold back the sob this time. He nodded weakly, the motion jerky, desperate. “Yes,” he managed to choke out. “Yes, sir.”
Tony’s smile widened, and he patted Stephen’s cheek almost mockingly. “Good boy,” he said. “That’s the truth I’ve been waiting for. You wanted this. You wanted me to take everything from you, to strip you down until there’s nothing left but what I decide to give you back.”
He let go of Stephen’s chin, standing up straight and looking down at him with a satisfied smirk. “Well, that’s exactly what you’re getting. You’re going to stay here, like this, until I decide you’ve truly learned your place. And if you beg, if you ask for anything before I give you permission, I’ll double the time.”
Stephen’s eyes widened in horror, the realization settling over him like a heavy weight. He nodded frantically, swallowing hard. “I understand, sir,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Tony leaned down, his face inches from Stephen’s, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I don’t think you do. But you will.” He straightened up, turning on his heel and walking away without another word, leaving Stephen kneeling there, the door slamming shut behind him.
The room was silent again, save for the buzz of the restraints and the sound of Stephen’s quiet, broken sobs as he slumped forward.
***
Tony watched the live feed from his lab, leaning back in his chair, a glass of scotch in his hand. He’d been monitoring Stephen’s every movement, every shiver and gasp, his eyes narrowing whenever his submissive tensed up or struggled against the restraints. It had been an hour of almost complete silence — a stark contrast to the earlier defiance.
Tony swirled the scotch in his glass, considering his next move. He’d pushed Stephen far already, but he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. The lesson wasn’t complete, and he could see the remnants of resistance still clinging to Stephen’s slumped form, like a stubborn thread that refused to snap.
“Jarvis,” Tony said, his voice calm and measured, though his eyes glinted with something colder. “It’s time to change things up. I want him in a different position. Position... four,” he said looking through the positions he'd configured into the cuffs on the display.
“Understood, sir,” Jarvis replied smoothly. “Reconfiguring restraints now.”
Upstairs, Stephen’s head snapped up as he felt the cuffs around his wrists and ankles loosen, just slightly. He blinked in confusion, sucking in a breath as the buzzing sensation subsided for a moment, leaving a strange, tingling numbness in his limbs. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or dread. The silence from the restraints felt like a reprieve, but he knew better than to believe it would last.
Without warning, the cuffs snapped back into action, pulling his arms out to his sides. He let out a startled gasp, his body instinctively trying to twist away, but the restraints held firm, yanking him up until he was forced into a standing position. His legs were spread wide by the cuffs at his ankles, and the pull on his wrists left him fully stretched open.
He bit back a cry, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he tried to adjust, the strain on his shoulders sharp and immediate. The position was uncomfortable, leaving him with no room to move, no chance to shift and ease the pressure. It was designed to push him, to keep him off-balance and vulnerable. And God it was working already.
Tony’s voice filled the room, coming through the speakers with a cold, almost clinical detachment. “How does that feel, pet?” he asked, a mocking lilt to his tone. “Better? Worse? Or are you starting to understand that it doesn’t matter how much you struggle, how much you squirm — you’ll always end up exactly where I want you?”
Stephen’s head hung low, his chest heaving as he fought to breathe through the strain. He swallowed hard, blinking away the sting of tears. He knew better than to speak.
Tony’s smile widened as he watched the monitor, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of his desk. “Oh, you’re learning,” he said softly. “But you’re not there yet. You’re still holding back, still thinking you can wait this out. Let me be clear, Stephen: you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied.”
He leant forward, setting the glass of scotch down on the counter. “Jarvis, increase the tension on the cuffs by ten percent. Let’s see how long he can hold himself up like this.”
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis responded.
The cuffs pulled tighter ever so slightly, stretching Stephen’s arms above his head, forcing his back to arch painfully. He let out a strangled sound, biting down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. His body trembled with the effort to stay upright, his muscles already screaming in protest.
“You’re trying so hard to stay silent,” Tony said, his voice dripping with condescension. “But I can see it, pet. I can see how close you are to breaking again. And you will. Because that’s what you need, isn’t it? To be broken down completely, until there’s nothing left but your submission.”
Stephen’s breath hitched, a sob bubbling up in his throat before he could swallow it down. He shook his head weakly, but the motion was feeble, his strength already waning.
Tony’s eyes darkened as he watched the feed, his smirk fading into something more dangerous. “Go on,” he taunted. “Beg me. Beg for mercy, beg me to stop. Let’s see if you can manage it without making me even angrier.”
Stephen’s lips parted, a shuddering breath escaping as he fought to keep his composure.
“I can see you breaking, pet,” Tony whispered, his voice low and filled with a dark, twisted pleasure. “But you’re not there yet. You’ve got more to give me, and I’m going to take every last bit of it.”
Tony span in his chair, around and around. “Jarvis, maintain his position for an hour. And restart the current flowing — just enough to keep him on edge.”
“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis replied.
Stephen let out a strangled cry as the buzzing returned, the electric current snaking through the cuffs, sending sharp, pulsing shocks through his body. He bucked against the restraints, a sob tearing from his lips before he could stop it, his head falling back, eyes squeezed shut.
“Good boy,” Tony murmured to himself.
***
An hour later, Tony stood outside the room, watching the live feed intently. He hadn’t taken his attention off the feed, his eyes locked on the screen, taking in every shudder, every sob, every involuntary jerk of Stephen’s body as the restraints continued their relentless assault. He could see the exhaustion weighing heavily on Stephen now, the way his legs trembled, barely holding him up. The sharp, buzzing current hadn’t let up for even a second, and Tony knew it was pushing Stephen to his absolute limit. That was the point.
“Jarvis,” Tony said quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Status report.”
“Sir,” Jarvis replied in his usual calm, measured tone, “Doctor Strange’s vital signs are elevated but stable. He has not attempted to speak again since your last directive.”
Tony’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. “Good,” he murmured. “Exactly where I want him.” He watched for a moment longer, savoring the sight of Stephen hanging there, stretched taut, his head drooping forward, chin resting against his chest as he panted for breath. It was a beautiful sight, one that spoke of complete and utter surrender.
But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
He took a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves before he strode toward the door. It slid open with a soft hiss, and he stepped inside, the sound of Stephen’s ragged breathing filling the space, the quiet hum of the restraints a constant background noise. Stephen didn’t look up at first; he was too lost in his own haze of pain and exhaustion, too consumed by the relentless pull on his limbs.
Tony walked over slowly, taking his time. He stood in front of Stephen, tilting his head as he looked down at him. “Look at me,” he ordered, his voice sharp.
It took a moment for the words to register, but then Stephen’s head snapped up, his eyes blinking open slowly, blearily. He looked up at Tony with a mix of fear, desperation, and something else — something raw and vulnerable that made Tony’s smile widen. The defiance was gone now, stripped away by hours of relentless punishment. All that was left was pure, aching need.
“You made it an hour,” Tony said, almost conversationally. He reached out, tracing a finger along Stephen’s jawline, smirking when he flinched. “I’m impressed. I thought you’d break before then. Maybe I underestimated you.”
Stephen’s breath hitched, his lips parting, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t dare. He knew better now.
Tony chuckled, low and dark, the sound echoing in the small, empty room. “You’ve been so quiet, pet,” he murmured. “Finally learned your lesson, have you?”
Stephen nodded frantically, the movement jerky and desperate. He swallowed hard, his whole body shuddering with the effort to stay upright. “Yes, sir,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely more than a breath.
Tony’s smile widened, and he stepped closer, grabbing a fistful of Stephen’s hair and yanking his head back sharply. “Good boy,” he said, the words dripping with condescension. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Stephen’s ear. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”
Stephen let out a broken, whimpering sound, his eyes squeezing shut as Tony’s grip on his hair tightened. “Please,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.
Tony pulled back sharply, his eyes narrowing. He yanked harder on Stephen’s hair, making him cry out. “What did I just say?” he hissed. “I told you not to beg. You haven’t earned that right.”
Stephen’s eyes flew open, wide with panic. He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir,” he gasped. “I—I didn’t mean—”
“Stop talking,” Tony snapped. He let go of Stephen’s hair with a rough shove, watching with satisfaction as his head drooped forward, the tears falling freely now, unchecked.
“Jarvis,” Tony said, his voice like ice, “release the current, but keep the restraints in place. He doesn’t deserve a full reprieve yet.”
The buzzing in the cuffs stopped abruptly, the silence almost deafening in its wake. Stephen sagged against the restraints, letting out a shuddering breath of relief, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. He blinked up at Tony, gratitude and fear mingling in his tear-filled eyes.
Tony reached out to cup Stephen’s chin, tilting his head back so their eyes met. “Do you understand why you’re here?” Tony asked, his voice gentle, almost tender.
“Yes, sir,” Stephen whispered, his voice broken. “I—I disobeyed you. I forgot my place.”
“That’s right,” Tony said softly. He stroked Stephen’s cheek almost affectionately, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it again.”
He stood up, taking a step back, crossing his arms as he looked down at Stephen, who was still trembling, barely holding himself together. “You’ve got one more chance,” Tony said. “One more chance to show me that you’ve learned your lesson. If you even think about disobeying again, if you even look like you’re going to speak out of turn, I will lock you in this room for another twelve hours. And you know I mean it.”
Stephen nodded frantically, the movement almost desperate. “I understand, sir,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
“Good,” Tony said. He turned on his heel, heading for the door, but paused just before he stepped out. “Jarvis,” he called over his shoulder, not looking back. “Maintain the restraints. Let him rest for fifteen minutes. And then resume the current. I want him kept on edge.”
“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis replied smoothly.
The door slid shut behind Tony, sealing Stephen back inside the room. He let out a shuddering sob, his head hanging low, as the silence settled over him again. He knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. And the next time Tony asked him if he understood, there would be no hesitation. There couldn’t be.