the_deep_magic | FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Some Weird Sin

Title: Some Weird Sin
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s, toys, flogging, paddling
Word Count: 3,345
Disclaimer: Lies. Spanky, spanky lies.
Summary: Zach has recently discovered that the best way to get Chris out of negative headspace is to dominate him. Okay… now what?
A/N: First of two sequels to my first Pinto fic, Into the White, though it could work as a stand-alone. The second will be posted within the next few days. Title and cut text ~~apologies to~~ courtesy of Iggy Pop.

After the first time, Zach just does what any good nerd would do: research.

He’s peripherally aware of important things like safewords and aftercare, but he needs particulars. Ordinarily he’d go to the library – he revels in the peculiar pleasure of weaving through deserted stacks to find a particular call number – but there are at least two good reasons not to. One: no library he knows of would likely have that kind of detailed information available. And two: some combination of the paparazzi and the Patriot Act would probably result in everyone and their mother knowing about his “research,” including his own mother.

But this, Zach discovers, is why the internet exists.

Chris has been teasing him about it forever – the words “neo-Luddite technophobe” have gotten thrown around – but Zach is just old-school. If he wants sexual paraphernalia, he’ll put on a baseball cap and sweatpants and go pay cash for it like fine upstanding men have been doing for years – none of this credit card billing information nonsense. But it occurs to him that he’s not taken such a shopping trip since before Trek, and he has no desire to read on someone’s Twitter that Spock just walked in asking about floggers.

So he hunkers down with a wi-fi connection and a series of message boards and he reads.

&&&

“All these pop-ups had better not buttfuck my laptop,” Chris moans.

Zach pulls out the Spock Voice. “Captain, my diagnostics indicate your computer is in need of a thorough buttfuck.”

Chris snorts with laughter and grabs Zach by the shirt, pulling him down and scooching over until they’re both awkwardly crammed into the computer chair. “What am I looking for?”

“Anything that sparks your interest.”

Chris clicks through the sex toy website with a look of intense determination. “I don’t know about some of this stuff. This one looks like a plumbing snake, and this one… Good god, look at the size of that thing. And it glows in the dark! Stick a shade on that fucker and you’ve got a lamp!”

Zach really can’t disagree with him on that. “Here, try looking at these,” he says, guiding the mouse to a selection of paddles and whips. He leans in to put his mouth right by Chris’ ear – not a difficult feat in the small chair – and whispers. “Look at each one, then close your eyes and imagine how it’ll feel, first swept gently over your skin, then brought down hard on your chest, your ass, your thighs…”

At that, Chris whimpers softly and twists in the chair to clutch Zach’s face and kiss him hard. Zach responds, shifting his weight to straddle Chris and attack his mouth. It all proves to be too much for the poor chair, which lets out a pathetic creaking sound before something snaps and both men go tumbling to the carpet, laughing but otherwise undaunted by the change in location.

Later, much later, when they’re both sated and sweaty, Chris brings the laptop down to the floor. Together, lying stretched out on the carpet, they go through the website, only occasionally pausing to kiss and bite. When they’ve agreed on what to buy, Zach gets up and goes to the desk, pulling the credit card out of his wallet and tossing it to Chris as he heads for the door.

“Hey,” says Chris, “where are you going?”

“Gotta take the dog out – you make the order.” Zach smiles, slowly and wickedly. “And be sure to pick something out for yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Surprise me.”

&&&

The front door slams, setting Noah off, and that tells Zach everything he needs to know. He carefully marks his place in his book and goes out to meet Chris.

“What happened?” he asks, soothing Noah with a treat and an ear scratch.

Chris flings his hoodie at the couch. “They said no one would believe Captain Kirk as a junkie.”

“Damn it,” Zach says in sympathy.

“Fuck this,” growls Chris. “Fuck it. Why do I have to suffer because those sons of bitches have no imagination?”

Zach could say any number of things right now, from It’s just one part to You can’t say you weren’t warned, but none of them are likely to do any good. Instead, he just lets Chris rant while watching him carefully.

“Of all the shitty things to say. You should’ve heard them, Zach. Talking down to me like I was a fucking five-year-old. ‘Your talents are better suited to your current career path.’ Like they fucking know what that is!”

“Chris—” Zach reaches out to him, but Chris slaps his hand away.

“I’m sick of this bullshit. It’s been a year since Trek and that’s still all people can think about.”

“Christopher, stop.”

Chris’ head snaps up at Zach’s tone, his eyes fierce. “Make me.”

Zach feels the blood rush to his cock so fast he nearly wobbles where he stands. But he doesn’t – he stands firm, staring Chris in the eye as he commands, “Bedroom. Now.”

Chris goes without another word, but his left hand is clenching and unclenching at his side like he’s ready to throw a punch. Maybe it shouldn’t excite Zach as much as it does, but all Zach can think is yes, finally.

When Zach gets to the bedroom, Chris is perched on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest like a defiant child. “Clothes off,” Zach says, his hands already starting to tingle with anticipation.

They need to get a better box for the toys; though they’ve all been washed, they’re still sitting in the cardboard box they came in. As Zach pulls it out, he imagines a more appropriate container – black metal with a padlock, maybe, something to help set the mood. He looks at his options. With the exception of whatever it was Chris bought for himself (and quickly took from the box as soon as it arrived), Zach has held these toys, run his hands over them, tested them lightly against his own skin and imagined what it would be like to use them on Chris.

It was evident the first time Zach looked over their new purchases what Chris prefers – thicker instruments that thud and smack rather than sting. Zach was (and still is) immensely glad; he doesn’t think he’s up to wielding a bullwhip in the bedroom just yet. He pulls out a pristine leather paddle and a flogger with soft deerskin tails. Nothing to tie him down, not yet. Half the fun is going to be making Chris keep still under the assault.

Zach keeps the toys behind his back as he stands up. Chris is naked, half-hard and rising and staring down at Zach as if challenging him. It’s perfect. “Do you remember our safe word?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”

Zach immediately drops the toys and rounds the corner of the bed to grab Chris by the back of the neck and force him down until he’s bent over the side of the bed, his face pressed into the blankets. “I will not be spoken to that way, Christopher. Do you understand me?” Chris grunts out an affirmative but Zach merely tightens his grip. “If I get any hint that you’re taking your own safety less than seriously, you will get nothing. I will leave you right here, naked and pathetic. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Chris says, swallowing hard. Zach lets go of his neck but Chris doesn’t move a muscle.

“What’s the safe word?”

“Red light.”

“Well done,” Zach says softly, and Chris has let go of enough of his anger to shiver visibly at the praise. “You may stand up now. You can make noise, but you may only speak when I ask you a question.”

When Chris rises, it’s immediately obvious he’s gone from half-mast to fully hard and Zach’s mouth waters at the sight. But that’s not what Chris needs now, and Zach knows it. He picks up the paddle and flogger from where he’d dropped them earlier and sets them down on the bed for Chris to get a good look. His eyes widen.

“This is what we’re going to use tonight,” Zach says. “Any objections?”

Zach seriously doubts Chris will have any, but he still feels a bit of relief as Chris begins to shake his head, but then thinks better of it and whispers, “No. No objections.”

“Good. Now, on the bed, hands and knees.”

It’s almost comical how quickly Chris complies, but the sight of that gorgeous, powerful body posed so submissively scorches away any awkward humor. Zach lets him settle into it for a few moments while he removes his own clothes, leaving on only his boxer briefs. Luckily he’s worn his favorite black pair today – Chris has always been very vocal about how good Zach looks in them.

"Where should we begin," Zach muses quietly, picking up the flogger. As he kneels on the bed, he can see Chris stiffen, back muscles tightening in anticipation. Zach just chuckles and raises the flogger, but instead of striking, he drags the soft tails down Chris' back, from the nape of his neck to his tailbone and back up again. Chris shivers visibly at the light stimulation, gasping and letting his head drop between his shoulders. Zach repeats the motion a few more times, occasionally stroking the leather over the ticklish skin of Chris' sides. When Chris is relaxed, his breathing slow and even, Zach suddenly brings the flogger down sharply between Chris' shoulders.

It's a half-strength hit at best, and the leather is too soft to do much more than redden Chris' skin, but the loud slap cuts through the silence in the room and Chris is suddenly on edge again, hands fisted in the blankets beneath him. "Good?" Zach asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Y-yes."

Instead of replying, Zach soothes the blushing skin on Chris' back with a gentle brush of the deerskin tails. He resumes stroking Chris' back with the flogger, waiting until the other man begins to relax again before bringing it down again, harder this time against the swell of his right buttock. Chris lets out a choked gasp and rocks back into the blow, but before he can relax again, Zach strikes the left side of his ass as well. While Chris recovers, Zach lifts the flogger and lets the tails dangle between Chris' buttocks, lightly teasing his clenching hole. He's so focused that he nearly jumps when Chris grates out, "More, please."

He pulls the flogger away immediately, dropping it and digging a hand into Chris' hair to jerk his head up. "What did I say about talking, Christopher?" Chris goes bright red, his eyes slamming shut. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Chris' eyes flutter open reluctantly. "You said... no speaking unless you asked me a question."

"And were you asked a question?"

"No," Chris says in a cracked whisper.

"If you can't obey a simple instruction like that, maybe you don't deserve this. Maybe I should just go jerk myself off in the shower, leave you here on your knees."

There's a "no" forming on Chris' lips, but he bites down on it just in time and shakes his head instead, his eyes wide and pleading. Though he tries his best not to show it, Zach is relieved – that would've been just as much a penalty for him as for Chris. "Very well," he says evenly. "But you'll still have to be punished."

Zach lets go of Chris and slides off the bed, going back to the box. He considers a cock ring before finally settling instead on a slightly curved plug. Straightening up and plucking the lube up off the bedside table, he shows the plug to Chris. "See this? This end nestles right up against your prostate. Every time you clench or move or shift, this will rub right across your sweet spot. So you'd better not move too much, because if you come before I tell you to, that'll be the last time for a week. At least."

Zach still feels a little awkward doling out threats like that, but Chris nods jerkily and swallows hard, completely obedient. Zach lubes the plug and slowly pushes it in without any more preparation – a large part of the punishment is denying Chris his fingers. The stretch isn't much, but it's definitely enough for Chris to feel it. He makes a high-pitched whimper as the widest part of the plug sinks into him. Once it's all the way in, Zach can see him experimentally clench his muscles around it, shuddering when it does exactly what Zach said it would.

Zach chuckles and rubs the small of Chris' back gently before picking up the flogger and, with no more ceremony, slapping Chris full across the ass. He grunts but remains still, his elbows locked. Zach grins to himself and gets to work, alternating light slaps over sensitive areas like the small of Chris' back with harder hits against his shoulders, ass, and thighs.

More than once, Zach has to reach down and adjust himself in his briefs as his cock responds to the soft, desperate noises Chris is making, going higher and higher in pitch as it goes on. Zach sneaks a quick look at his face and has to choke back a moan – Chris’ mind is somewhere else entirely, his face a picture of utter bliss, and Zach is amazed once again at how right this feels, holding Chris in place with nothing more than his words and taking control of his body.

Despite himself, Chris is soon rocking back and forth, trying to find the rhythm that Zach is denying him with the uneven tempo of his strikes. On a particularly brutal hit across the tops of his thighs, Chris' arms finally buckle, and though he catches himself, Zach sets the flogger down and scoots up toward Chris' head.

"Enjoying yourself yet, Christopher?" Zach asks, and gets a soft whine in response. "You're doing so well, I think you deserve a reward." He grabs two pillows from the head of the bed, stacking them under Chris' hips and then pressing gently between his shoulder blades until Chris drops and lets the pillows bear his weight. It's a blessing and a curse, though – his cock is now pressed between his body and the fabric of the pillowcases and Zach can see the tension in his thighs as he fights the urge to grind down.

"Perfect," Zach says softly, letting his eyes and hands drift over Chris' elevated backside. The skin of his ass and thighs is a flushed pink, warm to the touch, but not hot enough for Zach's liking. He picks up the paddle this time and lets the cool surface rest against the back of Chris' thighs. Chris squirms hard with expectation, groaning when the motion shifts the plug inside of him. Zach nearly moans himself, the sight of Chris so exposed and eager making his own need flare brighter. "Hold it together, Christopher. Just a little while longer."

Zach uses his hands to urge Chris' legs apart, drawing another moan from him. The insides of his thighs have yet to be touched, and if previous experience is any indication, that's just what's likely to finish him off. "How many do you want?"

Chris is openly panting now. "I d-don't know."

"Pick a number, Christopher, or you won't get any at all."

"Six," Chris gasps.

Even through the haze of lust, Zach has to smile. "If you're a good boy and count for me, you can come on number six. Will you be good?"

"Yes!" Chris all but wails, his hips jerking once against the pillows before he can stop himself, and Zach has to reach down and jerk his briefs to his knees – he's not convinced he'll last through all six.

He settles in on Chris' right side, raising the paddle and bringing it down against the inside of Chris' right thigh as hard as he dares. "One," Chris moans, and Zach pauses to give him time to collect himself. Then he lands a quick backhanded swat against Chris' other thigh and Chris gasps "Two!"

Three and four come in quick succession and Chris' whole body is trembling, racked tight as a guitar string as he waits for the final two blows. Zach delivers number five across both cheeks of his ass, jostling the plug in the process and Chris' toes are splayed out from the tension in his legs. "Ready?" Zach asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Please," Chris wails.

"Six." Zach gives the count for him and aims for the curve where thighs become ass, pressing in on the plug with his other hand as he does. As soon as the paddle lands, Chris is coming, keening and thrusting wildly against the pillows. All the tension goes out of his body at once, and as he sags down, Zach grabs the lube. He strokes himself once and eases the plug out of Chris, who's now so relaxed there's little resistance. Zach slides into him easily, bucking against Chris' pliant body barely half a dozen times before his body seems to dissolve in a flood of pleasure.

Zach resists the temptation to just flop down onto Chris’ abused back, instead managing to pull out and set the toys aside before he lies down. Chris turns his head to face him, lids drooping lazily with contentment.

“Okay?” Zach asks, leaning in and kissing tenderly at Chris’ hard-bitten lower lip.

Chris’ mouth stretches into a grin, his voice hoarse. “You really gotta ask, man?”

“Yeah, actually, I kind of do.”

“Oh, right,” Chris says, shifting his limbs as though testing to make sure they still work. “Yeah, ‘m good. Ass stings like a bitch, but that was kind of the point.”

Fighting the urge to simply melt into the bed, Zach pushes up on his elbows. “I’ve got some aloe.”

Chris hums contentedly, and when Zach comes back from the bathroom, he slurs, “Hey, while you’re up, look in my drawer under the t-shirts.”

“What am I looking for?” Zach asks, already digging through the clothes.

“Your surprise. Well, it’s kind of for both of us.”

Zach goes past it at first glance, mistaking it for a belt. But the second time his fingers find the strap, he pulled it out to take a look. It’s a collar, made of thick but surprisingly supple brown leather with a fleece lining and a buckle closure in the back. He turns to look at Chris, who has craned around to look. “Is this…?”

“Put it on me?” Chris asks, his voice almost shy, and Zach is back with him on the bed in two quick strides. He pulls the damp and stained pillows out from under Chris’ hips so he can sit up, rolling his weight gingerly onto one sore buttock. Chris tips his head back, so at ease with the vulnerability of baring his throat that Zach’s hands shake a little as he buckles the collar. He turns it so the closure is in the back and then runs his finger around the edge of it, stroking both the leather and Chris’ skin. Chris smiles beatifically and Zach finds he can’t speak.

“Well, don’t leave me hanging,” Chris says after a moment. “How do I look?”

“Hideous,” Zach chokes out in a hushed whisper. “Like a mangy dog.”

But Chris must hear what Zach isn’t saying, because he barks playfully and pants with his tongue hanging out until Zach has to push him back down on the bed so Chris won’t see how much he’s blushing. “Much more of that and I’ll make you sleep in the crate with Noah.”

“Will Noah rub aloe on my poor, battered ass?” Chris huffs indignantly. “Because I’m still waiting here.”

When Zach grabs the aloe gel and writes a large F U on his back with it, Chris cackles loud enough to be heard three doors over.

Continued in Comfortably Numb

Current Mood: cranky

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ladyblahblah.livejournal.com

I . . . love you . . . so much right now. O_O

Like it wasn't enough for you to have dom!Zach. And the spanking. The SPANKING. And orgasm denial, which I have yet to puzzle out as to exactly why it's hot, but let's face it, it really, really is. But then . . .

THEN YOU PULL OUT A FREAKING COLLAR.

A.

COLLAR.

I have lost all coherent thought at this point. I'll just go and drool in the corner now.

From:

Spock happens.

FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Some Weird Sin

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