I couldn't not write this & now I have an Ivan fetish. On AO3 ** Fitting
Liam breathed deeply, staring at the heavy white canvas hanging on a dressing dummy, its buckles almost too shiny to seem real. It wasn’t a prop jacket, he’d checked, and just the full body of it seemed imposing.The front buckles were already cinched down tight, the back left open and ready to be worn.
He heard Ivan’s voice not a foot behind him, far closer than he’d expected. “Are you sure that you want me to be the one to fit you?” It came out low and certain, the sound of darkness the man had cultivated for one purpose. One utterly delicious and entirely too effective purpose.
Liam swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and then nodded slowly. “It’s Sunday, I don’t want to bother anyone who isn’t already here.” There were other reasons, but he was reluctant to admit them. Ivan stepped closer, the hard sole of his shoe muffled on the dressing room carpet but still audible in the silence of the close space, and that reluctance began to slough away.
“I see.” Ivan answered, letting his nose brush against the nape of Liam’s neck before following the rough shadow on Liam’s cheek to his ear. “You know you don’t have to be shy, it’s just us here.”
Liam laughed awkwardly, the nervousness keening in the back of his throat. “Not shy… not in the least.”
“I can smell you.” Ivan’s voice dropped to a rumbling whisper and he drew in a dramatic sniff. “Smells like fear.”
Liam felt Ivan’s soft lips curl into a smile, facial hair tickling the side of his face and already drawing at that feared physical response he had thought might happen regardless of who was responsible for fastening him in. He hadn’t expected Ivan to be quite so clued in without even the barest hint. “Just… just a little intimidated.”
“Oh. Is that all?” Ivan drew back slightly, leaving a hand lingering on Liam’s elbow that he hadn’t felt touching him before. “I promise you’ll be safe here. Once you get used to the fit, you’ll be ready to film.”
“Right.” Liam let out a slight breath, holding back another nervous laugh. “L-less the fit, I’m sure you’ll get it on well, more…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”
Ivan slid around him then, the hand that had been on his elbow landing on Liam’s hip, his thumb idly caressing where Liam’s undershirt tucked into his jeans. His eyes caught Liam’s, reading him and communicating in a language that Liam read unexpectedly loud and clear. He’d seen that look before in the eyes of others, that polite yet still predatory indication of being clearly in control. Maybe it had been a bad idea after all, maybe Sam had been wrong when he suggested it, maybe - just maybe - it would be wiser to have asked one of the dear wardrobe experts to please kindly ignore whatever physical effect the bondage would have on him.
“Relax.” Ivan said with an unnerving calm. “I’ll be with you through it.”
Liam swallowed again and nodded, feeling the shameful burn in his cheeks. “Yeah. Just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“You’re a bad liar.” The left corner of Ivan’s mouth quirked upward, a crooked smile stretching his lips.
“And you expect me to admit that I’ve spent my fair share of time trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, unable to move and utterly helpless?” He had meant it as a joke, an entirely true joke, to test the waters of what would become far too clear, but it had come out as a stumbling confession that left his cheeks burning red and beads of sweat on his brow.
The smile righted itself then until it was a full and true grin. “Not exactly, but I’m glad you did.” Ivan’s eyes glanced over him and Liam was all too aware of the state of his zipper being strained from simple threat and proximity. He’d seen the man giggling in a onesie rolling on the floor with a mouthful of candy, and yet that image was not at all connecting to the man that stood so intently in front of him and the arousal he drew out of Liam.
Method acting. Yes. Of course. Fear response. A little bit of submission. All completely normal.
Liam lowered his head, a vain attempt to hide his clearly visible blush, and felt his body tense when Ivan’s hands rested on his shoulders, both thumbs tracing a slow circle over his thin shirt. “It’s okay.” Ivan said with only the barest hint of softness in his voice. “I’ll be gentle.” His left hand slid then, fingers cupping the back of Liam’s throat before squeezing gently. “Unless you’d rather I wasn’t.”
He didn’t intend to moan out loud so much as the sound rippled through his chest and clawed its way from his mouth before he could gather the sense to shut it down. “Sorry…” He gasped, following the intrusive sound with another awkward chuckle. “That… uh… that-”
“Is the most honest thing that’s happened in the last few minutes?” Ivan answered for him and Liam nodded, feeling the brush of Ivan’s curls on his forehead as he leaned in closer. “This is an intimate thing.” He paused, though Liam couldn’t parse if it was for dramatic effect or to gather his thoughts. “If you think I’m judging you, you’re wrong.”
Liam’s mouth went momentarily dry and he had to audibly clear his throat for words to come. “I think… I think this could pose a complication to our relative situation.”
“It doesn’t have to.” The words tumbled off Ivan’s tongue as though they’d been said before and suddenly Liam had a touch more clarity to situations he’d only been peripherally aware of before. The hand on the back of Liam’s throat squeezed again, harder this time and with clear intent that telegraphed right to the intended spot. “I know at least one person in this room has a certain degree of carte blanche when it comes to intimate situations.”
This time Liam whimpered. He then bit down on his lower lip until he could at least attempt to think straight. It was a thing, a thing that was happening while still heading toward the much more innocent thing that he had anticipated. “Or two.”
Ivan chuckled once before dropping back into his rumbling tone. “Well then, let’s get you trussed up.”
Liam glanced up as Ivan pulled away from him, taking the few long moments he had to attempt to compose his thoughts and at least give the appearance of not enjoying himself far too much. He watched Ivan’s strong hands grasp the canvas, let the clink of buckles wash over him in stereo with the subtle groan of effort as Ivan lifted it and carried it the six steps across the room.
“Arms out.”
Obedience had been earned so easily, that simple squeeze of Ivan’s hand dropping him right into the foggy headspace he so rarely got to wrap himself up in. It wasn’t fair how simply a commanding tone and intense presence could turn a nerd in ripped jeans and a novelty t-shirt who was barely taller than he was into some sort of dominant force. Liam raised his arms out in front of him as the straitjacket was turned to face outward; there was a clatter of buckles as it was forced open to show where those arms would be going. “It looks heavy.”
“It is.” Ivan answered, already pushing it over Liam’s hands and letting him begin to get used to the sensation of the canvas on his skin. “Heavy. Confining. Scary.” Liam whimpered low in the back of his throat, but Ivan didn’t let up. “The weight of metal and canvas only equalled with the weight of representation tied up in the thing.”
Liam nodded again, letting the thought percolate and mingle with the things he’d already prepared for his upcoming character. A man who’s lost control, who is not fully grounded in reality. The jacket, he thought, could bring that clarity in the same way he felt when leather and rope squeezed him tight and held him together until he felt like he couldn’t ever be broken. His cock shifted against the cotton of his shorts, the weight rising up his arms until it rested across his shoulders and against his chest and belly.
“Good?”
“Green.” Liam closed his eyes against the sensation and drew a deep breath through his nose. If there had ever been any hope he wouldn’t end up hard and ashamed it was dashed the moment Ivan’s mouth gently caressed the skin where his shirt collar shifted as he adjusted it into place. “I mean-”
“Good.” Ivan whispered. “I know what it means.” Liam heard the buckles shift again as Ivan took a step away to pull it taut against Liam’s chest. “I know a lot of things.”
“Yes?” Liam answered in the same whisper, unsure if Ivan would even hear it. Silence filled the room for half a second before being cut by the zip of canvas on metal as the first buckle was cinched down until Ivan’s broad palm pushed on his back. “Ah!”
“I know that’s a good sound.” Ivan answered. “And I know you’re dancing right on the cusp of falling deeply into your own senses.”
Falling. That was a good word, a very true word, though in his case it was less a tumble and more submerging himself in a warm bath that was always there on the fringes of his mind but required a very special tap. In his horribly mixed metaphor, Ivan was proving to be an ideal tap. A tap that was already making a loud show of tugging the third buckle tight enough to shift the canvas against his chest.
“I suspected this would give me a little more insight into the man behind the… well, the man.”
In his right mind Liam would laugh; this was a far different state entirely. “Yes.” He answered in utmost honesty. “Well, more than I thought-” There were more words, but the next buckle sunk him too deep to find them.
“Let me guess.” Ivan let out a small grunt as he cinched down the next strap, a decidedly unsubtle mental image flashing across Liam’s brain as he imagined just what Ivan would sound like sliding into him, forcing him open and taking his own pleasure. “You anticipated a little bit of an awkward erection from being put in bondage?”
Liam whimpered again, clearly all the response Ivan needed to continue. “And now that I’ve read you like a book, you don’t entirely know what to think.”
“Mmmhmm.” Liam closed his eyes tighter, the last buckle pressing the waistband of his jeans into his flesh, the canvas hugging him tight and pressing the fullness of its weight on him. It felt… nice. Calming and at the same time very exciting.
“I thought you might fight this, Liam.” Ivan’s voice drifted across Liam’s mind, almost a lovely dream that washed over him. “I didn’t really think you’d be such a responsive…” He paused again, though Liam couldn’t register if it was seconds or drawn out into minutes. “What are you, then?” He purred. “A needy bitch boy?” The words sharpened on his hypnotic tongue. “Or maybe something else… some…”
Ivan’s pause drew out to a clear prompt that Liam responded to readily. “A toy. A plaything.”
“To be taken out and used.” Ivan added seamlessly, the motion of Liam’s arms being wrapped across his own belly and pulled backward lost to the depth of the moment. “Put away when I’m satisfied, then. So docile and unfazed by your own needs.”
Liam gasped, the sound inaudible to ears that focused on the whirr of the long sleeves being buckled tightly into place, leaving him fully restrained and unable to fight it even if he wanted to. He was entirely left to Ivan’s whim, and those lovely words made him certain that was a very good thing.
“I can feel it, you know?” Ivan murmured, pressing himself tight against Liam’s arms. “I don’t have to touch you to know that you’re aching right now.”
Later Liam would tell himself that he had no idea, that seeing this side of Ivan and showing that side of himself would somehow have been unexpected. In the moment, it all made perfect sense. The easy cadence of Ivan’s voice lulled him even as strong fingers squeezed over the obscene hardness in Liam’s jeans and begin to gently grip and release there. Maybe he’d been waiting for the shoe to drop, to give himself permission to allow someone to take control.
He groaned and felt his knees go weak, the sound replaced with a deep moan when Ivan’s arms caught and held him upright. “Careful there…” Ivan said, “I might have to find a hook to keep you standing.”
That was almost too much, the mental image alone of being hung off the door hook by the loop at the collar of the straitjacket combined with the steady tease through his jeans and made his knees buckle again, pushing him back against Ivan’s pelvis. He wasn’t the only one in quite a state.
One hand shifted on Liam’s chest and pushed up the tight clench of front buckles until long fingers wrapped over his mouth. “You want it, don’t you?” Ivan whispered, wiry sideburns rasping against his skin with each rub of Ivan’s lips on his ear. “You want to be useful, used... “ Ivan groaned as Liam’s hips moved of their own volition and pushed into him encouragingly. “Oh-ho-ho… you are a fucking treasure. So eager, so desperate to be put in your place.”
The fingers closed over Liam’s mouth did little to stifle the loud moan of unrestrained affirmative. When Ivan suddenly pushed back, a hard thrust of hips driving his hardness against Liam’s ass gave more than enough leverage to bend him at the waist easily. “I’m going to remove my hand,” Ivan said firmly, “and you’re going to ask nicely.”
The tips of Ivan’s fingers were barely clear of the corner of Liam’s mouth when sounds somewhat like language tumbled out. “Please… fuck… please!”
In response, Ivan pushed himself against Liam’s bent body and carefully brought him down to the floor until he was cheek down on the carpet with his ass up, pinned underneath Ivan’s weight and utterly restrained. “You can do better than that.” He shifted his torso, letting more press against Liam’s back as he growled into his ear. “You know how to beg, don’t you?”
Liam gasped and then whined, a full shudder passing through him as he tried to organize anything even close to real thought. Things had gone from zero to one hundred much faster than he was really capable of processing. He let out a shaking breath and whispered, “Green.” He was fine, this was fine, everything was fine even if his cock was leaving an unsightly wet spot he was going to have to hide like a high schooler after gym class. Louder, more deliberately, he answered the demand. “I need it.” He panted. “I… please... “ His shoulders shifted with the guidance of Ivan’s sure hands and suddenly the pressure on the small of his back felt like a warning to stop stalling and be honest. “Use me.” He sobbed. “Chew me up and spit me out and make me cry if you want to.”
Then, Ivan moaned. Loud and dramatic, the sound rattled against Liam’s ear and straight to his loins. Desperately, Liam pushed with his shoulders and knees to arch himself against the ever-pressing weight. “Good boy…” Ivan sighed tenderly, sliding the palm that rested at Liam’s waist until fingers groped the button of his jeans and tugged hard. “Such a compliant treasure, aren’t you?”
“Ahhhhh…” Liam wasn’t aware of audible sound escaping him, but he was hyper-aware of Ivan’s hand pushing past cloth to wrap around his cock and deliver that precious touch of skin against skin.
“Already wet.” Ivan purred as he began to gently stroke, each slide drawing out a whimper and twitch. “You’re going to come already, aren’t you?”
He didn’t mean to, didn’t want to seem quite as desperate as he felt in the heat of the moment, but it was undeniably true. The tight clutch of the straitjacket holding him together was almost enough on its own, but then Ivan had to go and show the true colors lurking just under the surface. A squeak of affirmative closed Liam’s throat, his balls tightened and throbbed, and then he let go with all the dignity of a helpless thing.
Fill: "Fitting" (Ivan/Liam, Explicit. straitjacket, D/s)
On AO3
**
Fitting
Liam breathed deeply, staring at the heavy white canvas hanging on a dressing dummy, its buckles almost too shiny to seem real. It wasn’t a prop jacket, he’d checked, and just the full body of it seemed imposing.The front buckles were already cinched down tight, the back left open and ready to be worn.
He heard Ivan’s voice not a foot behind him, far closer than he’d expected. “Are you sure that you want me to be the one to fit you?” It came out low and certain, the sound of darkness the man had cultivated for one purpose. One utterly delicious and entirely too effective purpose.
Liam swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and then nodded slowly. “It’s Sunday, I don’t want to bother anyone who isn’t already here.” There were other reasons, but he was reluctant to admit them. Ivan stepped closer, the hard sole of his shoe muffled on the dressing room carpet but still audible in the silence of the close space, and that reluctance began to slough away.
“I see.” Ivan answered, letting his nose brush against the nape of Liam’s neck before following the rough shadow on Liam’s cheek to his ear. “You know you don’t have to be shy, it’s just us here.”
Liam laughed awkwardly, the nervousness keening in the back of his throat. “Not shy… not in the least.”
“I can smell you.” Ivan’s voice dropped to a rumbling whisper and he drew in a dramatic sniff. “Smells like fear.”
Liam felt Ivan’s soft lips curl into a smile, facial hair tickling the side of his face and already drawing at that feared physical response he had thought might happen regardless of who was responsible for fastening him in. He hadn’t expected Ivan to be quite so clued in without even the barest hint. “Just… just a little intimidated.”
“Oh. Is that all?” Ivan drew back slightly, leaving a hand lingering on Liam’s elbow that he hadn’t felt touching him before. “I promise you’ll be safe here. Once you get used to the fit, you’ll be ready to film.”
“Right.” Liam let out a slight breath, holding back another nervous laugh. “L-less the fit, I’m sure you’ll get it on well, more…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”
Ivan slid around him then, the hand that had been on his elbow landing on Liam’s hip, his thumb idly caressing where Liam’s undershirt tucked into his jeans. His eyes caught Liam’s, reading him and communicating in a language that Liam read unexpectedly loud and clear. He’d seen that look before in the eyes of others, that polite yet still predatory indication of being clearly in control. Maybe it had been a bad idea after all, maybe Sam had been wrong when he suggested it, maybe - just maybe - it would be wiser to have asked one of the dear wardrobe experts to please kindly ignore whatever physical effect the bondage would have on him.
“Relax.” Ivan said with an unnerving calm. “I’ll be with you through it.”
Liam swallowed again and nodded, feeling the shameful burn in his cheeks. “Yeah. Just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“You’re a bad liar.” The left corner of Ivan’s mouth quirked upward, a crooked smile stretching his lips.
“And you expect me to admit that I’ve spent my fair share of time trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, unable to move and utterly helpless?” He had meant it as a joke, an entirely true joke, to test the waters of what would become far too clear, but it had come out as a stumbling confession that left his cheeks burning red and beads of sweat on his brow.
The smile righted itself then until it was a full and true grin. “Not exactly, but I’m glad you did.” Ivan’s eyes glanced over him and Liam was all too aware of the state of his zipper being strained from simple threat and proximity. He’d seen the man giggling in a onesie rolling on the floor with a mouthful of candy, and yet that image was not at all connecting to the man that stood so intently in front of him and the arousal he drew out of Liam.
Method acting. Yes. Of course. Fear response. A little bit of submission. All completely normal.
Liam lowered his head, a vain attempt to hide his clearly visible blush, and felt his body tense when Ivan’s hands rested on his shoulders, both thumbs tracing a slow circle over his thin shirt. “It’s okay.” Ivan said with only the barest hint of softness in his voice. “I’ll be gentle.” His left hand slid then, fingers cupping the back of Liam’s throat before squeezing gently. “Unless you’d rather I wasn’t.”
He didn’t intend to moan out loud so much as the sound rippled through his chest and clawed its way from his mouth before he could gather the sense to shut it down. “Sorry…” He gasped, following the intrusive sound with another awkward chuckle. “That… uh… that-”
“Is the most honest thing that’s happened in the last few minutes?” Ivan answered for him and Liam nodded, feeling the brush of Ivan’s curls on his forehead as he leaned in closer. “This is an intimate thing.” He paused, though Liam couldn’t parse if it was for dramatic effect or to gather his thoughts. “If you think I’m judging you, you’re wrong.”
Liam’s mouth went momentarily dry and he had to audibly clear his throat for words to come. “I think… I think this could pose a complication to our relative situation.”
“It doesn’t have to.” The words tumbled off Ivan’s tongue as though they’d been said before and suddenly Liam had a touch more clarity to situations he’d only been peripherally aware of before. The hand on the back of Liam’s throat squeezed again, harder this time and with clear intent that telegraphed right to the intended spot. “I know at least one person in this room has a certain degree of carte blanche when it comes to intimate situations.”
This time Liam whimpered. He then bit down on his lower lip until he could at least attempt to think straight. It was a thing, a thing that was happening while still heading toward the much more innocent thing that he had anticipated. “Or two.”
Ivan chuckled once before dropping back into his rumbling tone. “Well then, let’s get you trussed up.”
Liam glanced up as Ivan pulled away from him, taking the few long moments he had to attempt to compose his thoughts and at least give the appearance of not enjoying himself far too much. He watched Ivan’s strong hands grasp the canvas, let the clink of buckles wash over him in stereo with the subtle groan of effort as Ivan lifted it and carried it the six steps across the room.
“Arms out.”
Obedience had been earned so easily, that simple squeeze of Ivan’s hand dropping him right into the foggy headspace he so rarely got to wrap himself up in. It wasn’t fair how simply a commanding tone and intense presence could turn a nerd in ripped jeans and a novelty t-shirt who was barely taller than he was into some sort of dominant force. Liam raised his arms out in front of him as the straitjacket was turned to face outward; there was a clatter of buckles as it was forced open to show where those arms would be going. “It looks heavy.”
“It is.” Ivan answered, already pushing it over Liam’s hands and letting him begin to get used to the sensation of the canvas on his skin. “Heavy. Confining. Scary.” Liam whimpered low in the back of his throat, but Ivan didn’t let up. “The weight of metal and canvas only equalled with the weight of representation tied up in the thing.”
Liam nodded again, letting the thought percolate and mingle with the things he’d already prepared for his upcoming character. A man who’s lost control, who is not fully grounded in reality. The jacket, he thought, could bring that clarity in the same way he felt when leather and rope squeezed him tight and held him together until he felt like he couldn’t ever be broken. His cock shifted against the cotton of his shorts, the weight rising up his arms until it rested across his shoulders and against his chest and belly.
“Good?”
“Green.” Liam closed his eyes against the sensation and drew a deep breath through his nose. If there had ever been any hope he wouldn’t end up hard and ashamed it was dashed the moment Ivan’s mouth gently caressed the skin where his shirt collar shifted as he adjusted it into place. “I mean-”
“Good.” Ivan whispered. “I know what it means.” Liam heard the buckles shift again as Ivan took a step away to pull it taut against Liam’s chest. “I know a lot of things.”
“Yes?” Liam answered in the same whisper, unsure if Ivan would even hear it. Silence filled the room for half a second before being cut by the zip of canvas on metal as the first buckle was cinched down until Ivan’s broad palm pushed on his back. “Ah!”
“I know that’s a good sound.” Ivan answered. “And I know you’re dancing right on the cusp of falling deeply into your own senses.”
Falling. That was a good word, a very true word, though in his case it was less a tumble and more submerging himself in a warm bath that was always there on the fringes of his mind but required a very special tap. In his horribly mixed metaphor, Ivan was proving to be an ideal tap. A tap that was already making a loud show of tugging the third buckle tight enough to shift the canvas against his chest.
“I suspected this would give me a little more insight into the man behind the… well, the man.”
In his right mind Liam would laugh; this was a far different state entirely. “Yes.” He answered in utmost honesty. “Well, more than I thought-” There were more words, but the next buckle sunk him too deep to find them.
“Let me guess.” Ivan let out a small grunt as he cinched down the next strap, a decidedly unsubtle mental image flashing across Liam’s brain as he imagined just what Ivan would sound like sliding into him, forcing him open and taking his own pleasure. “You anticipated a little bit of an awkward erection from being put in bondage?”
Liam whimpered again, clearly all the response Ivan needed to continue. “And now that I’ve read you like a book, you don’t entirely know what to think.”
“Mmmhmm.” Liam closed his eyes tighter, the last buckle pressing the waistband of his jeans into his flesh, the canvas hugging him tight and pressing the fullness of its weight on him. It felt… nice. Calming and at the same time very exciting.
“I thought you might fight this, Liam.” Ivan’s voice drifted across Liam’s mind, almost a lovely dream that washed over him. “I didn’t really think you’d be such a responsive…” He paused again, though Liam couldn’t register if it was seconds or drawn out into minutes. “What are you, then?” He purred. “A needy bitch boy?” The words sharpened on his hypnotic tongue. “Or maybe something else… some…”
Ivan’s pause drew out to a clear prompt that Liam responded to readily. “A toy. A plaything.”
“To be taken out and used.” Ivan added seamlessly, the motion of Liam’s arms being wrapped across his own belly and pulled backward lost to the depth of the moment. “Put away when I’m satisfied, then. So docile and unfazed by your own needs.”
Liam gasped, the sound inaudible to ears that focused on the whirr of the long sleeves being buckled tightly into place, leaving him fully restrained and unable to fight it even if he wanted to. He was entirely left to Ivan’s whim, and those lovely words made him certain that was a very good thing.
“I can feel it, you know?” Ivan murmured, pressing himself tight against Liam’s arms. “I don’t have to touch you to know that you’re aching right now.”
Later Liam would tell himself that he had no idea, that seeing this side of Ivan and showing that side of himself would somehow have been unexpected. In the moment, it all made perfect sense. The easy cadence of Ivan’s voice lulled him even as strong fingers squeezed over the obscene hardness in Liam’s jeans and begin to gently grip and release there. Maybe he’d been waiting for the shoe to drop, to give himself permission to allow someone to take control.
He groaned and felt his knees go weak, the sound replaced with a deep moan when Ivan’s arms caught and held him upright. “Careful there…” Ivan said, “I might have to find a hook to keep you standing.”
That was almost too much, the mental image alone of being hung off the door hook by the loop at the collar of the straitjacket combined with the steady tease through his jeans and made his knees buckle again, pushing him back against Ivan’s pelvis. He wasn’t the only one in quite a state.
One hand shifted on Liam’s chest and pushed up the tight clench of front buckles until long fingers wrapped over his mouth. “You want it, don’t you?” Ivan whispered, wiry sideburns rasping against his skin with each rub of Ivan’s lips on his ear. “You want to be useful, used... “ Ivan groaned as Liam’s hips moved of their own volition and pushed into him encouragingly. “Oh-ho-ho… you are a fucking treasure. So eager, so desperate to be put in your place.”
The fingers closed over Liam’s mouth did little to stifle the loud moan of unrestrained affirmative. When Ivan suddenly pushed back, a hard thrust of hips driving his hardness against Liam’s ass gave more than enough leverage to bend him at the waist easily. “I’m going to remove my hand,” Ivan said firmly, “and you’re going to ask nicely.”
The tips of Ivan’s fingers were barely clear of the corner of Liam’s mouth when sounds somewhat like language tumbled out. “Please… fuck… please!”
In response, Ivan pushed himself against Liam’s bent body and carefully brought him down to the floor until he was cheek down on the carpet with his ass up, pinned underneath Ivan’s weight and utterly restrained. “You can do better than that.” He shifted his torso, letting more press against Liam’s back as he growled into his ear. “You know how to beg, don’t you?”
Liam gasped and then whined, a full shudder passing through him as he tried to organize anything even close to real thought. Things had gone from zero to one hundred much faster than he was really capable of processing. He let out a shaking breath and whispered, “Green.” He was fine, this was fine, everything was fine even if his cock was leaving an unsightly wet spot he was going to have to hide like a high schooler after gym class. Louder, more deliberately, he answered the demand. “I need it.” He panted. “I… please... “ His shoulders shifted with the guidance of Ivan’s sure hands and suddenly the pressure on the small of his back felt like a warning to stop stalling and be honest. “Use me.” He sobbed. “Chew me up and spit me out and make me cry if you want to.”
Then, Ivan moaned. Loud and dramatic, the sound rattled against Liam’s ear and straight to his loins. Desperately, Liam pushed with his shoulders and knees to arch himself against the ever-pressing weight. “Good boy…” Ivan sighed tenderly, sliding the palm that rested at Liam’s waist until fingers groped the button of his jeans and tugged hard. “Such a compliant treasure, aren’t you?”
“Ahhhhh…” Liam wasn’t aware of audible sound escaping him, but he was hyper-aware of Ivan’s hand pushing past cloth to wrap around his cock and deliver that precious touch of skin against skin.
“Already wet.” Ivan purred as he began to gently stroke, each slide drawing out a whimper and twitch. “You’re going to come already, aren’t you?”
He didn’t mean to, didn’t want to seem quite as desperate as he felt in the heat of the moment, but it was undeniably true. The tight clutch of the straitjacket holding him together was almost enough on its own, but then Ivan had to go and show the true colors lurking just under the surface. A squeak of affirmative closed Liam’s throat, his balls tightened and throbbed, and then he let go with all the dignity of a helpless thing.