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The mirrors on the ceiling had been Ral’s choice, but being able to see his husband from above, laid out on the bed belly-down, limbs spread far and wide by the restraints that strung him to each far-off bedpost, Tomik decided he liked the touch.
Ral was blindfolded and splayed. After being set up that way, Tomik had told him he had something to deal with in the other room and to wait patiently. There was no way to know how much time had passed; the only sensations he could gauge his surroundings by then were the well-constructed cotton duvet and silk sheets beneath him, and the sound of the air purifier and white noise machine running in opposite corners of their enormous room.
His calves, his shoulders, and his forearms ached, but his spine felt fantastic. Leather straps locked around his ankles and wrists. Several feet of material strained from the bedposts to hold him still at the center of the mattress. The blindfold was in place before Tomik began tying him down. They’d chatted at the start, but that had soon faded away for Ral to track his movements through sound: the scrape of leather, the creak of knots pulling tight. He had to calm his own breath to hear it clearly.
This was a game they played. Not often, but enough that it wasn’t unusual. Tomik’s sadistic side had been a topic of conversation during some of their very first dates, and even though it was something Ral had never considered before, he was willing to try – aside from the opposite sex, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t try at least once. There was trust involved, but it was easy to tell that Tomik wasn’t going to turn into some Rakdos thug once given free rein in the bedroom; like everything else, he brought self-interest and order, and like everything else having to do with Ral, he gave him the very best of himself.
As it turned out, the way Tomik liked to play was a great way to take Ral’s mind off of whatever question or result was plaguing him and put him at ease, whether they wanted to fuck or he needed to be worn down for a full night of sleep.
When Tomik reentered the room, solid boot heels clacked along the hardwood, something different from what he’d been wearing when he left, and an excited shiver ran up the skin of Ral’s back. He lingered at the bedside without touching him, letting silence bear down once his bootsteps stopped. Ral thought to pull at at his restraints – not to test them, but to test Tomik. He refrained, not yet ready to disobey, and stayed still, body taut.
Tomik had given him however much time had passed to get the rest of his thoughts about his projects and the day to settle, to help him grow restless and to make him feel helpless. The storm in his mind had narrowed to a single point: face down, waiting, wondering when Tomik would return and what he would do to him when he did.
Finally, Tomik rested a single hand at the center of Ral’s back.
“Right here,” he said. “Not in your head, not in the lab, right? You’re right here with me, all mine. Breathe for me.”
Ral’s chest expanded slowly, pushing into the bed. The ache in his shoulders stretched across the top of his back and the front of his chest, and right then, he felt the last of any other thought he’d been having start to fade away. No more equations, no circuits, and no theories – Tomik was right, he was there, all for him.
“You’ll hate me for this, for a little while,” Tomik said, “and then you’ll thank me, as per usual.”
A small, helpless laugh escaped Ral’s throat, half-muffled by the side of his face down on the bed. He opened his eyes beneath the blindfold, then closed them again. It didn’t make a difference. He enjoyed imagining what Tomik was wearing, how he might be standing, and what he might be holding.
He didn’t have to wonder long. Tomik’s hand dragged down to his tailbone and hips, then he lifted it, letting the soft leather loop of a riding crop replace it at the base of his neck. Ral shuddered, unable to move closer to or further from it as it lazily dragged over each segment of his spine. Focus settled into his chest, his mind fully clearing as his body tensed under his lover’s control.
“Are you all mine now, or are you just pretending to be?” Something sly, almost devilish, crept into Tomik’s voice as he asked. The edge of the crop dragged down to Ral’s hip, resting gently at the side of his ass.
“All yours,” Ral said. His voice wavered. Before he could finish, a sharp smack stole his breath in a deep exhale.
“All mine?” Tomik asked again, just a tad more of a lilt to the question. There was danger there, like he didn’t believe he had his full attention.
The crop lifted off of Ral’s body entirely, giving no frame of reference for where it would land next.
“All yours,” he responded dutifully, allowed to finish fully this time before the opposite side of his body was struck.
He hadn’t realized how much he liked pain until he let Tomik be in charge. He’d understood in theory – the pleasurable zap of chewing on foil with a metal filling as a child – but he hadn’t fully registered what else it could do for him. The first time he’d let Tomik really try, when he’d hit him with a brush neither of them had hair long enough to need for any other purpose, the intensity had overwhelmed him so quickly he’d had to wrestle Tomik over for release. Every nerve in his body was alive, every other thought stripped away, and he'd been harder than he could remember being in the previous twenty years.
In the present, he got caught, lost in that pleasant memory.
“I don’t have you,” Tomik snapped. The crop came down hard across his lower back, and Ral winced.
“I’m sorry,” he said, speaking quickly to get it across before another hit struck horizontal across his ass. “I’m here, I’m right here, I’m yours.”
“I can tell when you’re lying,” Tomik said. “I don’t appreciate it.”
Another hit was followed close by its twin, then another, moving rapidly across his body until a torrential downpour took over. Still without sight, he felt each smack, heard his own ragged breath, he felt sweat trickle down his own face, and he heard himself repeat, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” with increased desperation.
Without pausing his incessant smacks, moving them higher up Ral’s back, Tomik’s other hand slid between his legs to fondle him. Ral knew what was coming; he tried, between panting huffs he emitted in response to the crop, to hold his breath. When Tomik’s fist closed in a firm, tight squeeze around his balls, the whimper he released turned sharply to a high, keening cry. Still, Tomik held fast, pulling to stretch them down before releasing him.
He didn’t have the breath to beg for forgiveness anymore. The crop moved quickly up and down his back, the right side, and then the left, alternating. His skin burned, growing warm and certainly red. His mind blurred. When Tomik spoke again, Ral couldn’t remember where the conversation had left off.
“Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”
The rain of stinging hits did not slow. Ral’s speech came with a stuttering start, then spilled over into babbling.
“That I love you,” he said. “I’m all yours. I was so- I was so stupid, I wasn’t with you,” the blows continued, coming to a peak, making his voice crack between words. “I’m sorry. I’m with you, here. I’m with you right now, I’m here. I’m here. I love you- sorry- I love you, I’m sorry!”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Tomik said. “Tell me how you’re going to repay your debt.”
This part should have been easy; he knew what Tomik liked, but it was always difficult for Ral. It was hard to frame the energy and tension that built in him from this, begging for release, as fucking for forgiveness.
“I’m going to-” he hissed at a sharp smack, his teeth ground together. “I’m gonna- ah-! I’m getting on top of you, hold you down…” He inhaled sharply, another smack. “Fuck, ugh- I’m giving it all back to you, everything you’re giving me.”
That excited Tomik. The blows became harsher, more of a shot than a sting. A hot, thin trickle of blood peeled down the side of Ral’s body, and Tomik moved away from that area. It didn’t take long to feel it again, lower down and on the opposite side. And still, he didn’t stop. The pain burned hotter, deeper, sharper. His skin hurt beyond meat, beyond muscle, to the blood.
He lost sense of time until the blows came to an end, slowing down to soft tapping that hurt just as badly on bruised skin as the first real hit had. By that time, Ral’s heart was beating out of his chest. He heaved in deep breaths to gather himself, all of his strength, for what would come next.
The blindfold would be the last thing to go. Ral’s right wrist was freed first, then his ankle on that side. Next, his left ankle, then the wrist of his dominant hand. He brought himself slowly up onto his knees at the center of the bed, keeping his hands in contact with the duvet-covered mattress to ground himself on the way. Tomik’s hands on his shoulders adjusted him, turning him to face his husband. Being unable to see made every other sensation sharper. Tomik’s hands left him, and he let out a crisp gasp when they returned to roll a delicately oily, silky soft condom up the length of his erection, every inch feeling electric as it went. Only then, after a firm, open-handed pat atop each of his kneeling thighs, was the blindfold removed.
Tomik was striking, kneeling right in front of him with his sleeves rolled up and cuffed. A white shirt worn beneath a cream vest and matching slacks were sharp against his frame. A coffee-brown belt cinched his waist too tightly, exaggerating his figure more than nakedness would have done. Cream boots with thick wooden soles that would have been imposing had been carefully set aside at the step up onto the bed, leaving him in white socks.
Warm, pumping blood trickled down several places along Ral’s back. He leaned in, spine straight, neck angled, pulling Tomik close by the waist. Chest to chest, he kissed him deeply. When hot, excited breath met his own, it amplified his headrush – he had to focus to keep from getting dizzy, to do what this had all been meant to build up to.
Early on, Tomik had grown frustrated with Ral’s inability to turn his mind off, always with his hands in too many pots to focus. This time, it wasn’t meant to be a quick, body-driven fuck before bed or a lazy afternoon distraction; in those instances, they had decided together, it was okay for Ral to be thinking about something else to some extent, so long as it didn’t impact his performance. When they both really wanted intimacy – a deep, all-encompassing connection – it had to start with a bang.
Ral’s hands slid further down Tomik’s body, working around to the base of his spine. When he grabbed either side of his ass, he took the meat of it in greedy handfuls through rough fabric, shaking with force. Tomik’s anus was jostled and stretched beneath his clothes, and he nestled his face into the side of his husband's neck to moan in response before sinking his teeth in there with a bite just as sharp as the grip holding him.
When that bite disconnected, wet and bruised, Ral took advantage of the brief pause Tomik’s exhale offered. He moved his hands to his waist again to grab forcefully and wrestle him down. At first, he pinned him flat on his back, meeting the wild flare in Tomik’s eyes as they opened after impact. One hand stayed on his waist, while the other moved to grasp his shoulder, and he rolled him over onto his front with a quick, heavy heave.
He had to fumble for a moment with Tomik’s belt, trying and failing to unlatch it, reaching around his body, until Tomik reached under himself to unclasp it for him. Tomik undid the buttons of his own vest, then his shirt, letting his husband peel them off once they were loose-hanging. When Tomik was topless, Ral’s hands spread flat and pushed forward over the span of his back, appreciating the soft sturdiness of him.
Reaching around to undo Tomik’s fly wasn’t an issue, and when it was open, he hooked two fingers of each hand into his waistband and dragged them along the line of it to his hips before roughly pulling them down. He was surprised by the wet glisten of his hole, the limp looseness of it. Tomik had clearly prepared himself – he’d been beating him with a loose, empty ass. Ral let out a short huff of approval, licking his lips. He rolled his shoulders back, placed his hand at the side of his husband’s hip with a firm, gentle tap, grinding his own hips forward against him, and tilted his head back to grin at himself in the ceiling mirror before proceeding.
Even from that angle, it was clear how his back and shoulders were red – purple, in some places where Tomik had hit him particularly hard. Tiny spots of blood spattered the white duvet the places he’d been, and still more appeared around him as the broken skin on his back and the backs of his thighs began to dry over.
“You ready?” He asked, more to hear himself speak than for a genuine answer. He already knew what Tomik wanted, and he knew delaying any further would only piss him off.
Tomik nodded and dropped his chest to the mattress, raising his hips. One arm stretched out in front of him, the other reaching back until Ral caught his hand in a tight grip. When Ral slid the head of his cock into him, Tomik clutched harder, begging to take him deeper. The slickness of the condom met his wet, loosened hole for easy, frictionless entry, and on the second pump of his hips, Ral was fully seated inside of him.
Tomik’s hum of satisfaction came from deep in his throat, breaking off to an open-mouthed gasp when Ral’s free hand found the space between his shoulders and pressed him down, steadying himself to angle into him for a more fluid thrust. He used leverage to drive deeper, repeating the motion again and again, drawing sweet sounds of pleasure from his lover. Tomik’s taut muscles shifted under his hand, wriggling each time his cock hit just right. After so much tension, so much attention lavished on his body, Ral had to focus to hold himself back – he didn’t want to come before Tomik did.
Tomik’s stretched forward hand came back to him, snaking under his body to take hold of his own cock, letting the rhythm of Ral fucking him pump it through his fist. He whined and writhed, pushing himself further back only for his body to be jolted forward again each time by the force of Ral’s hips rolling against him. Sweat dripped down from above, what cooled the back of Tomik’s neck stung Ral’s, making dried abrasions cry anew.
Ral adjusted his hand from between Tomik's shoulders, letting it glide along the tense muscles of his waist, feeling every shiver and flex. He could feel the sides of his abdomen tense, ramping up to orgasm. When Tomik came, his entire body went rigid. He shook, then went slack and thrust his sticky hand back to wipe across the leg hair atop Ral’s knee.
With Tomik’s orgasm as his cue, Ral let himself set alight to follow, igniting like a gas stove with a heat that carried through from his belly to his groin. The sound he made was akin to a gag, choking deep in his throat, wet with spitty breath. He squeezed Tomik’s hand as the condom filled inside of him, and he continued to hold it tight as he breathed afterward, panting over his body, still in him.
When he had the clear head and lung capacity for it, Ral pulled out of him to shuffle off of the bed and stand. He peeled off and tied the condom, bringing it to a receptacle near the connected bathroom, before coming back to him. When he returned, Tomik had rolled over to splay himself wide on his back, a flipped version of the pose he’d tied his husband down in. Ral climbed back onto the bed and kneeled between his legs, massaging the tops of his thighs with a firm, steady grip. He worked his way down to his calves, to his ankles, then back up, all the way to his hips, his waist. Tomik sighed happily, letting his eyes drift shut. Only when Ral had paid close, special attention to every inch of his body, finishing off the massage with a gentle forehead kiss, did he open his eyes again.
“Let’s take care of your back before bed,” he said. “How does a cold shower and some antibiotic salve sound?”
Ral rolled his shoulders back, stretching. He felt the burn of bruised and abraded skin cracking. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “That sounds perfect.” He didn’t need to be a force of nature anymore, ready to be as calm as he’d made Tomik.