[ NSFW Open Post - 2020 ]

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For Blake

[the_informant]

There are proper ways to start an evening such as one that Blake has been invited over for. For one thing, Butch makes sure that he makes a nice, light dinner for them first. There is nothing worse than being tied up all night and being hungry, after all, but an overly full belly isn't good either. He creates a very light pasta primavera and serves it in fancy restaurant quanta, making sure that it's enough to sate, but not enough to stuff. And then there's the wine, carefully selected to be a good partner for flavor, but not strong enough to truly fuddle up the senses.

After dinner it's the couch, to watch something together, but really to let him start teasing and working up the night's dessert with light touches. Fingers brush fleetingly over Blake's collar when stretching an arm around his shoulder. Fingers going for the remote make sure to trail over thighs on the way to it. Lips that could be focused forward toward the screen lean in to tease and whisper in Blake's ear. Because half of the fun of the night's plan, the plan they both know is going to be played out, is the build up. It's the tease, the slow and deliberate and meant to drive Blake to the point where he asks for it. Anything else wouldn't be enough. One had to take charge and control to give it up, even in the very unreal relinquishing that was a sub-dom relationship. Power was always in his lover's hands, that was where it belonged. And until Blake asked, Butch Flowers wasn't going to give.

[efficaciousness]

The dinner had been a treat. It's exactly the sort of thing Blake likes and it's practical for the plan they had tonight which he appreciates even more. Blake is meticulous about details and he can appreciate when Butch puts a fine point on some. And as they settled to watch something or other it's almost as if they were normal. Each touch is deliberate, Blake knows, even as it seems incidental. He knows it's all an elaborate dance, a seduction of sorts and he knows what the other is waiting for but it takes a bit to reach the point.

The breaking point came at another whisper against his ear, a shuddered breath finally leaving him. Sometimes giving over control is more verbose and sometimes, like this time he starts with a single word.

"Please."

Whatever they were watching is completely lost on him and had been and all that had been there is the other's touch, his mouth.

[the_informant]

The word earns the briefest flicker of a smile, and Butch uncoils himself from the couch, rising with that deliberate consideration that is more common to cats and dancers than men. Once he's standing he offers his hand out to Blake, the look in his dark eyes saying that the man shouldn't deny him this. And once they were hand in hand he guided the man, slowly, from the living room and off down the hall toward the bedroom. Then further on, past Butch's bedroom door where he would normally have Blake stay when he visited for less intense evenings. Down the hall to the room that was so very rarely used, and always used so well.

He pauses with his hand on the knob and raises an eyebrow.

"You're certain?"

Because once they're past that door, certain rules come into play. The things Blake can't do, like touch without permission. The things he must do, like what he must call Butch. The things they will both want, which is obedience. And the overpowering authority of the words Blake holds and hopefully holds back. The keywords to make Butch let off for a bit, stop entirely, or move on to far more intimate contact that the first course.

[efficaciousness]

Blake always loves the way that the other moves. There's something unique and it's much smoother than Blake's typical frenetic mannerisms. He could never pull it off the way that Butch does and it's always alluring to him. He had swallowed as he took the other's hand, a glance toward the bedroom and an exhale as they pass it and get to the door of the other room. He takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly before meeting the other's eyes.

"I'm certain," his hand squeezes the hand still in his own briefly. He trusts the other and it may or may not have been the best or the worst decision of his life but what he gets out of it is something he'd never known he'd needed until he'd started discovering it with Butch. He knows what's expected on the other side of the door, knows that even as he submits to it all that he can still control it but he prefers when he doesn't have to use the words, when it feels like he doesn't need to.

Sometimes he likes when he's pushed to needing them or thinking that he might, though. In truth, there's someone in every part of it that's good.

[the_informant]

There's good no matter how the night plays out. Which, of course, is half of the fun for Butch. Figuring out just what path the night will take. Sometimes it's cuffs and spreader bars and nothing more complicated than leaving the man on his knees for a while. Sometimes it's gags and the riding crop and a promise that he won't make a noise. Once he had even had the pleasure of talking the man into a blindfold and feeling that talented mouth wrapped around him, sucking like his life depended on it. It was always beautiful in this room.

Butch opens the door with a smile, and once he crosses the threshold a change comes over him. Sure he's still kind and smiling, but there's an edge to it. Command, desire, a touch of darkness. He pulls Blake in and drops his hand, closing the door behind him and locking it. Securely. With the lock on the knob and the chain and, just to feel extra secure tonight, the deadbolt too. Sometimes you didn't want interrupted.

"Clothes, off."

The tone is brusk, commanding as Butch crosses the room. And what a room it is. The walls are painted a strong but not overwhelming shade of dark blue-gray, all the better to show off a number of racks, displays, and even hooks around the wall set with toys, bindings, and all sorts of adult delights. There had been a point, early on, where Butch had feared being let into this room would send Blake running in fear. Now he just moved deliberately across it, the boots he'd chosen for the night clicking crispy against the floor. Bamboo, to give a bit of yield, but to be durable at the same time.

Butch went straight to the back of the room, where the restraints all were, considering.

"I saw you on the news last night, Baby. And you know what occurred to me? You didn't tell me you were going to be on camera. You didn't tell me I could watch you. If you had, you know I would have had you dressed up all special under your suit. You denied me that pleasure."

A cock cage and a remote controlled vibrator would have been a delight, even though he knew the latter was nowhere near okay for days Blake might ACTUALLY get in the way of a camera. His position required too much self control. But the cage? Blake knowing that Butch would know when he saw him on television? That they would both know what was hidden? That would be arousing in and of itself, which would only make it that much more sweet. But for denying Butch that, there would be repercussions. And falling back onto Florida's favorite thing.

"Green tonight, I should think," he says, hands just short of fondling a carefully prepared stretch of rope. One he lifted down, also reaching out to grab some hooks and rings that went with the suspension rig set firmly into the ceiling, just in case he chose to get truly creative.

At last he turned back to look at Blake, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he chided, looking pointedly at the other man's clothes.

[efficaciousness]

The way Butch could shift by just stepping across a threshold excited him and of course, sometimes things from this room didn't always stay in this room, there was always an element of their roles outside of it, sometimes more intrusive than others. He had thought about telling Butch about that appearance but had decided against it, knowing for certain there were any number of things the other could have done. He's lost in thought as he sometimes gets, his eyes following the other absently. He stifles the urge to apologize for not telling him. The items the other select have his heart racing a little and he nearly jumps when the other turned and spoke and he realized he'd disobeyed.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he exhales and he makes quick work of what's left of the suit he'd worn that day. His coat and shoes had been discarded but his tie was only loosened so he pulled it the rest of the way off as he toes off his socks. Then he quickly unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall to the ground -- which is a feat for him who normally folds his clothes or puts them straight into a hamper if he's hope. next his pants slide down with his underwear soon following stepping away from them.

His hands hung at his sides, adrenaline sending nervous twitches throughout him. It's not that he's nervous but sometimes excitement walks a fine line with anxiety.

[the_informant]

Beautiful. There's a fine line between distraction and disobedience, and this time Butch lets it slide. He walks, no, prowls across the room, with the rope in hand. And when he reaches Blake he lets the rope tip forward in his hand, brushing against Blake's chest. It's heavy rope, not so heavy that it would cause problems, but strong and weighty enough to really be felt and not cut into skin. And it's smooth over the whole length, carefully worked free of any burrs or other potential discomforts.

Butch lets the bundle slide slowly down Blake's chest, dipping down past his torso, his stomach, his belly button, stopping just short of the pretty little happy trail waiting for him and the cock beyond.

"Center of the room," he instructs, walking slowly around his lover, letting the rope brush over hip, forearm, hip, small of his back. "I need to figure out how I want you to look tonight. What art of you would please me. And whether you even get the reward of pleasure."

Shibari is about the art, the restraint, the firm embrace of knot and rope at its core. Which didn't mean it couldn't be sex play as well. Knots put in specific positions to leave holes bared, cocks jutting out, balls restrained, even knocks meant to press in pleasing ways against a body that dared squirm. And so he had much to think about.

"Have you been bad enough that I don't let you feel good? Tell Daddy if you've been a good boy."

[efficaciousness]

Blake's eyes flutter shut as he feels the rope brush against his skin. The promise of what it could do, everything it's capable of in the other's hands. His eyes open and follow the other's movement as he walks around him, he always reminds blake a little of a predator stalking its prey. He's certainly prey in this room and he loves it.

He's quick to obey this time, though, moving to the center of the room. He didn't know what Butch would land on, sometimes leading him into saying things is only a tease, a feint. Blake hadn't figured out the pattern yet, and his analytical brain had been trying to parse one. Yet, he couldn't always even predict what things might set Butch off to wanting to punish him. It's exhilarating in its way and beautifully frustrating and challenging. By now he's well on his way to getting hard but he stands still, legs slightly spread and hands staying at his sides.

"I've been good, Daddy," Blake says, but has he? He did intentionally not tell him about the tv appearance, not that he had known until an hour or so before it but it doesn't make a difference. He knows that the other likes to know these things. "I'll be really good tonight too, Daddy."

[the_informant]

"Oh, and how are you going to be good to me, my good boy?" Butch asks, striding after his lover and giving him a light smack on the ass with the coiled rope. Not enough to even truly sting. Oh, but he'd want it to sting. "Will you let me do what I want? Place you as I want? Use you as I want?"

And Butch so did love to use other men. Blake had been especially satisfying in those moments where he truly yielded. When Butch kept him going and toyed with him, a predator already glutted and picking apart at the remains of a hunt at his leisure.

[efficaciousness]

Blake's muscles tensed at the smack even if it didn't really hurt it had surprised him and put his body on alert for more. He's ready for it, a part of him aching for it, for anything that Butch wants. His fingers twitch at his side, a tell-tale sign he wants to reach out to find the other's skin.

"Yes, Daddy, all of it. Please use me how you want," such words used to be difficult for Blake, a struggle to pry out but he'd learn to let them fall naturally, learned that he loved it.

"I'll be the best for you."

[the_informant]

Nothing like submission. Butch circles around Blake, trailing the rope up and over his shoulder and then up his neck as Butch came to stand in front of him. The bundle moved under Blake's chin and tipped it up as the shorter man considered him from one angle and then the other. Considered what he deserved.

"Daddy wants you on your knees, pet. Can you do that for him like a good boy?"

[efficaciousness]

Blake's skin seemed to light up with sensations as the other trailed the rope over it, his head tilting as the other pressed against his chin with it. He closes his eyes for a moment, a few deep breaths to settle the curl of anxiety that had started to creep up his spine. It did that so often when they were on the cusp, in the moments of anticipation.

Wordlessly, he obeys. His eyes open as he drops to his knees, looking up at the other's face. Yes, he can be a good boy.

[the_informant]

Beautiful. Obedient. His.

"What a good boy. Daddy promises he's going to tie you up all pretty, just the way you like. Going to take a picture to put in our family album too. But first, my good boy has to do something for Daddy first."

He drags the rope across Blake's lips.

"I need you to undo my pants. With only that pretty little mouth of yours. Here, I'll even help you."

Butch puts a hand to the middle of his own chest, trailing over the tight shirt he'd worn just for this evening. Sharp eyes would no doubt kick out the way the shirt accented his hard nipples. Those eyes better be watching too as fingers trailed down, down, down Butch's chest and stomach until his fingers quickly flicked the button of his fly open.

The fly on jeans so tight that there was no missing the bulge in them, or heading down one leg. Butch had always been more of a shower than a grower, and he had every intention of making use of every last inch today. After the main course, of course. This? This was only an appetizer for himself.

[efficaciousness]

There's certainly no need to have to encourage Blake to watch. His breathing had hitched at the moment the other mentioned a picture. He's let him before but it always feels dangerous. If anyone ever got ahold of those pictures, leaked them to the press his career would be over and there's no telling what political fall out there could be for those around him. His lips part as the rope drags over his lips. His eyes fall to the other's pants for a moment but then they're back on Butch.

Blake's eyes move to the trail of the other's hand, the way his shirt pulls taunt for a moment over the other's nipples and if he wasn't completely hard before he is by the time theo ther's hand was flicking the button open for Blake.

"Thank you, Daddy," he murmurs and leans forward, nosing at him first, inhaling the scent before shifts to find the zipper to grasp his teeth on. It's not all that easy to tug it downward with as tight as the pants were but Blake's eager and works hard at it, wanting to free the other's cock. When he'd finally gotten the zipper all the way down he noses at him again, lips parted before he pulls back and looks up at him.

[the_informant]

Some things even a spine of steel can't keep one from doing. Included in that list? Gasping as another man nuzzles against your cock. Even through clothing the friction is something, and that something is beautiful. Nearly as beautiful as watching Blake work. Nearly as beautiful as the way his lover looks up at him, eager for the next order.

It makes Butch's cock twitch and ache all at once, and he wants the damn pants off, to be free and to have that beautiful mouth occupied with pleasing him.

"Good. Boy," he says, punctuating the words with a light slap of the rope bundle over Blake's back. "You may use your hands to work my pants down. But only my pants. After that, I want you mouthing me through my briefs. Do well and you'll be rewarded. When I feel like it."

[efficaciousness]

And Blake likes to earn those sounds, the sounds that aren't totally expected but when he catches them it feels like a victory. He shudders just slightly as the bundle slaps at his back and listens to his instructions carefully.

They're difficult ones to follow because he wants to touch. He wants to feel his skin beneath his fingertips but he carefully tugs down the other's pants, making sure not to touch him direction. Before he's got the pants all the way down he's already leaning forward to brush his nose along the other and starting to mouth at the line of his cock, sucking at the tip briefly when he gets the pants all the way down and mouthing back down to his balls.

Blake lets out a quite moan, more of a whine really, wanting more than this but trying to be good and just follow instructions.

[the_informant]

Blake's such a good boy he even earns Butch rocking his hips forward, just a touch, against the attention offered him. And oh what attention it is, heady and sweet and keeping Butch throbbing with need. Not that he intends to take all of his pleasure yet. Not by half.

The game is, after all, control and denial. For both of them.

"Pull my briefs down, and if you manage it without touching skin, you get to suck my cock. Wouldn't you like that? Making Daddy moan for you? Pleasing him in this best way? Do you want to taste Daddy, feel him in your mouth? Say it. Say you want to please your Daddy.

[efficaciousness]

Blake makes a low sound at the next task. He looks up at Butch again and getting underwear off without touching skin is harder than it is with pants. But he's up for the challenge. He sucks a little more through them before leaning back again. His fingers go to the sides of the underwear and he starts pulling down carefully having to shift where he's pulling to get them to come further down.

"Please Daddy," he nearly moans and there might be a slip of his palm against the other's knee but he tries not to notice, hopes Butch won't notice either and works them further down until they could easily be kicked out.

[the_informant]

Oh, Butch notices, and Blake immediately earns a slightly firmer whack across the shoulders for the failure.

"That's one strike," he warns, watching with a very pleased smile on his lips. "All the way down to my ankles, baby. And if there are no more strikes, you get to please me."

[efficaciousness]

Blake's shoulders hunch up briefly and a brief feeling of shame at the failure. He murmurs sorry and carefully keeps dragging them down, his heart racing and he feels anxious every moment of this. And he does get them all the way down to his ankles.

[the_informant]

Perfect. Lovely. Praise and reward is most definitely needed now. So Butch smiles, reaching his empty out to stroke the other man's hair.

"Good boy. Very good. You can have your reward."

[efficaciousness]

Blake's eyes flutter close for a moment enjoying the touch to his hair, despite styling still soft to the touch.

"Thank you, Daddy," Blake says and he hadn't been given permission to touch with his hands so he tilts his head so he can draw a line along the other's length with his tongue and back up to pull the tip in and start taking him into his mouth as deep as he can without gagging. He never takes the other's cock deeper on his own but sometimes Butch has made the choice for him.

[the_informant]

Some days he'd be more than willing to abuse the skills of that mouth, to force the man to take more than he can handle. But today? Oh today he feels benevolent. Or at least he does at this moment. So Butch even rewards Blake with a pleased groan over how that mouth works at him.

"Fuck it, baby. You know you want Daddy to love you for sucking it."

[efficaciousness]

Blake moans around Butch's cock, reveling in the sound of appreciation from him. He continues to bob his head, pressing the cock deep into his mouth and then back up to only the tip, letting his tongue tease at it and taking him down again, swallowing around him sometimes but not every time. He's eager to please the other more, to draw more sounds to make him love him for it just like he says. Daddy's always right about him in this room.

[the_informant]

Good. Good boy. Butch reaches out to let his actual hand stroke over the man's hair before pulling back from his mouth. Clearly he hates to do it, but there is more to happen.

"Oh my dear, you're so good to me. There will be a reward. But for now... hands behind your back. It's time we truly start."