The last buckle clips shut under Tony’s fingers, and he steps back to survey his handiwork, making sure to trail his fingertips along Steve’s bound forearm as he moves. Steve’s breathing is deep and a little fast, but not in an alarming way – in an excited way.
He’s buckled down over the padded bench, forearms and calves strapped down to the padded arm and leg rests, his chest resting over the larger torso section. Tony had designed and built the bench himself, so it’s strong enough to hold Steve down unless he really fights. It still has quick-release buckles in case Steve uses his safeword, but it’s sturdier and stronger than what a baseline human would need.
The pads that Steve’s calves are attached to are on adjustable braces, so Tony can spread them out to the side to widen Steve’s stance, or push the front ones forward if he wants Steve’s arms stretched up over his head.
And oh, he looks beautiful, draped over the supple red leather. His muscles are a little tense, with anticipation or trepidation or nerves. Steve had been jittery all day, like he couldn’t sit still, and Tony had decided, after Steve’s bouncing knee had jostled the workbench during a crucial weld, that enough was enough.
When Steve gets into his head like this, there’s only one way for Tony to pull him out of it, and that’s by bringing all of his focus into his physical body, into his skin and his muscles, pulling him out of himself.
Steve’s chin is resting on a slightly lower padded section, so his neck is straight. Tony had enveloped his throat in the dark red collar they had picked out together, and it matches the straps holding him down perfectly. There’s no straining or pulling anywhere in his body, no chance of an injury that Tony doesn’t fully intend. If Steve weren’t so totally pent up and agitated, he would be able to completely relax in this position.
After a moment’s consideration, Tony steps forward and pulls the release on the leg sections, pulling Steve’s legs wider apart, stretching his thighs open. He does it slowly so as not to strain Steve’s hips, but he doesn’t stop until Steve’s thighs are pushed up and wide, like a frog in the middle of a pond, preparing for another push forward in the water.
It stretches his ass cheeks open, and his hole is exposed to the warm air of the room, twitching as he clenches with the humiliation of it.
“That’s nice,” Tony says, running a palm over Steve’s hip. “That’s very nice.”
“Tony,” Steve murmurs. It’s a protest, a benediction, as Steve’s ears flush red in embarrassment.
“Do you want a plug?”
Steve makes a punched-out grunting noise, but doesn’t answer right away. Tony knows he’s considering – they both know Tony will fuck him at the end of this. The question is how stretched out and ready Steve wants to be before it happens. Does he want to be open and loose so Tony can slam slickly into him? Or does he want to be tight and unprepared so Tony’s cock spears him open, burning and pushing and stretching to the point of discomfort.
Everything about the next little while is going to hurt, in all the ways Steve loves, but he doesn’t always want that particular hurt.
“No,” he finally decides. “Please.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Tony says, voice gentle and warm. “I didn’t know you were having such a hard day, love, you should have said.”
“I just –”
“You should have said,” Tony tells him again, a little firmer.
“Yes, Tony,” Steve says, hearing the order in it. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Tony murmurs, because he knows Steve needs to hear that, every time.
“Thank you,” Steve sighs.
Tony walks around to the front of the bench, and runs his hand through Steve’s hair, where it’s flopped down over his eyes. It’s soft and shining in the low light of the room, like gold in the flickering candlelight.
He pets at Steve’s hair for a moment, gentling him down to centre them both. “What’s your safeword, Steve?”
Steve swallows before he answers, and already his voice sounds a little calmer, just from Tony’s fingertips brushing across his scalp. “Red.”
“Good. And how are you feeling right now?”
“Green,” Steve says.
“That’s good too, sweetheart,” Tony says, before he squats down into a crouching position in front of Steve so he can meet his eyes. Steve’s eyes are deep blue, his pupils dilated. If Tony peeks under the torso bench to the other end, he can see Steve’s cock hanging there half-hard.
Tony keeps one hand in Steve’s hair, and brings the other up to swipe his thumb along Steve’s full lower lip. It’s dry, and his finger drags across the pink skin. Steve just holds his gaze, breathing deeply in through his nose.
Tony lets his thumb slide inside the wet heat of Steve’s mouth, curling the pad of his thumb under Steve’s tongue to take hold of his lower jaw. He tugs gently, and Steve’s mouth drops open obediently, his cheeks pink.
“I should gag you,” Tony hums thoughtfully. “But I do so love it when you start to scream.”
A whole-body shiver goes through Steve, his eyelashes fluttering a little – though he doesn’t break away from Tony’s gaze. He knows better than that.
Tony pulls his thumb free, lets go of his grip on Steve’s chin. Steve keeps his mouth open for a moment, so Tony decides to use it.
He stands, quickly unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly and pulling his own half-hard cock out. Steve’s head is, intentionally, at the exact height required for Tony to step forward and feed his cock into Steve’s waiting mouth.
Steve knows better than to suck before he’s told, so he just stays where he is, mouth open and wet and warm, as Tony slides his dick over the slightly rough texture of his tongue. Steve looks up through his eyelashes, doing his best to look up at Tony’s face the way he knows Tony likes.
Tony thrusts in a few times, enough to get himself fully hard, then steps back and tucks himself back into his slacks with a slight hiss. He zips up the fly and rebuttons, but he doesn’t buckle his belt back up. He makes sure he’s in Steve’s eyeline, and then he slowly pulls the belt out of its loops. The only sounds in the room are the soft leather sliding through fabric loops, and Steve’s heavy breathing.
Tony loops the belt in half. It’s a $900 designer belt, and should be handled with extreme care.
“I’m going to gag you after all,” Tony says. “For a little while, anyway.” Then he takes the belt and places it between Steve’s full, pink lips. Steve, without having to ask and with a low gasp of lust, closes his teeth over the leather, holding the belt there in his mouth.
Tony moves over to the toy chest, running his fingers over the various canes and floggers and whips, trying to decide what he’s going to use to mark Steve’s skin today.
With as antsy as Steve had been all day, he thinks he should use something with a little bit of bite. But he also knows that Steve will respond better if they start with something a little broader, heavier, less sharp. So he pulls a paddle out of the box. It’s long and broad, with a comfortable handle and made of a deep cherry mahogany wood.
He flips it in his hand a few times, refamiliarizing himself with the weight of it, and then, without warning or hesitation, he brings it down over the thick, muscled meat of Steve’s ass.
Steve cries out through his clenched teeth, the sound garbled around the leather belt in his mouth.
“Don’t bite down,” Tony warns him. “That belt is expensive, I’ll be annoyed if you ruin it with teeth marks.” It’s a complete lie – Tony couldn’t give less of a fuck about the belt, but Steve will definitely bite down too hard and leave marks, and then Tony will be able to spank him for it, and they both know it.
Tony brings the paddle down again, this time on the other cheek, revelling in the way Steve’s skin goes immediately red, instantly marked under Tony’s ministrations. He’ll heal fast, but at least for the time being, Tony can lay welts and bruises where he likes.
Tony rains blows down until Steve’s ass is hot and red and twitching, until he’s used to the blunt thudding, until he’s grunting in time with each blow as though he can anticipate the rhythm.
And that just won’t do. Tony moves back to the toy chest and places the paddle down beside it. He pulls out a flogger next. It’s leather, with knots throughout the leather strands for added sting. It’s Steve’s favourite.
Tony starts slow, up near Steve’s tense shoulders. He watches raptly as Steve’s skin starts to redden, lines starting to raise right away as Tony’s wrist flicks the leather tails across his skin. He keeps up a steady rhythm, moving his arm around to make sure he’s warming up the skin on all of Steve’s back. Steve is panting, not quite ready to cry out yet, but that’s okay. Tony’s just starting.
“Look at you, darling,” Tony croons, his voice warm and full of love. He’s always in awe of Steve like this, the way he’s desperate for the submission, and yet his body hesitates, pushes back. “You’re beautiful.”
Steve lets out a creaky little moan around the belt between his teeth. “Miles and miles of beautiful, golden skin,” Tony sighs, moving the flogger to Steve’s thigh, grinning a little as Steve’s leg twitches, pulling just a little bit at the straps holding him in place.
Tony tilts his head, and sure enough, Steve’s cock is hard. God, he loves this man.
“I love you like this,” Tony says, keeping that crooning note in his voice. They’d tried it other ways, before – Tony had called Steve a slut, a whore. They’d done the humiliation thing, the ‘mean dom’ thing, and it hadn’t sat right with either of them.
“I just – it’s not you,” Steve had said, after, when he’d called Yellow and they’d stopped, Tony wrapping his arms around Steve to hold him close. “You would never say those things. I don’t want to feel like I’m with a stranger, I want to do this with you.”
And so they’d tried it this way, with Tony murmuring words of love and awe, grateful for Steve’s submission in every word, and it had made them both so hot that Tony’d had to jerk off and come all over Steve’s back, and Steve had come without a touch, just at the hot splashes of Tony’s release hitting his skin.
And that was how Steve had learned he had a praise kink. It was also how Tony had learned he could say all the sappy, ridiculous things that Steve usually – when he wasn’t strapped down over a bench – kissed him to stop him from saying.
“All spread out for me, giving yourself to me like this? You’re lovely, Steve.”
Steve moans, his hips shifting a little as though to try and get some friction on his cock. But his cock is hanging off the back of the bench, and the best he can do with his little bit of movement is press the base against the leather – nowhere near enough sensation to give him what he wants.
Tony lets his wrist speed up, bringing the flogger down with a little more speed and sharpness. “Look at how you writhe for me.”
Steve writhes a little more pointedly at that, and Tony lets a dark chuckle out as he lets loose a particularly vicious hit, and Steve jerks forward, letting out a cry. Tony hits him again and again, watching as the red lines raise into welts.
His arm is starting to get tired, but he has no intention of finishing any time soon – instead, he’ll take a break.
He puts the flogger in the chest, and starts unbuttoning his shirt as he walks around to the front of the bench. He strips the rest of his clothes off while standing in front of Steve, letting him watch as Tony bares himself, as he pulls his straining cock out and drops his pants. When Tony is naked, he reaches out with both hands to take the belt from Steve’s mouth. It’s wet with drool, and there are two perfect half-moons bitten into it from Steve’s perfect teeth.
“Steve,” Tony says, admonishingly. “What did I tell you about this belt?”
“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve says, but he doesn’t sound at all sorry.
“I’ll have to use the crop after,” Tony tuts. “As punishment.”
Steve shivers, eyes glazing over in anticipation.
“But for now, my arm is tired, love. I need a break.”
“Of course, Tony. Anything.”
“Oh, you’re so good for me,” Tony sighs, brushing the backs of his knuckles down over Steve’s sweat-dampened cheek. He steps forward and brings his cock to Steve’s lips, though he doesn’t push in just yet. “I want you to worship my cock,” Tony tells him. “But don’t make me come. Can you do that?”
Steve nods frantically, licking his lips and opening wide, looking up at Tony with desperate love in his eyes. He’s down into subspace for sure, and he’s in that soft, floaty place where all he wants is to please Tony, to belong to him.
Tony steps forward and pushes the head of his cock into Steve’s mouth, and Steve sucks gently, before pulling back slightly to kiss it. He tilts his head, pressing loving, open-mouthed kisses around the head, halfway up the sides, as much as he can reach when he can’t push forward. Tony shifts forward a few more inches so Steve can kiss down to the base, nibbling and licking along the side of Tony’s cock. Tony sighs happily – Steve is very good with his mouth, and when he’s loose and easy like this, his lips and tongue are hot and wet and soft and heavenly.
“That’s so good, baby,” Tony tells him, petting Steve’s hair. “You’re so good.”
Steve moans, kissing and licking his way back up to the head. He’s not taking Tony’s cock into his mouth – in this position, really, Tony could probably fuck into his throat, but he was serious about not wanting to come yet.
Tony loops a finger into Steve’s collar, just in between the leather and Steve’s skin, and Steve groans, sucking harder kisses along the line of Tony’s cock as he clenches his hands into fists. He’s beautiful, lovingly mouthing over Tony’s erection and panting as Tony fingers his collar.
Tony pushes forward again, and takes hold of his cock to tug it up, giving Steve his balls. Steve moans and licks, sucking one into his warm mouth before releasing it and moving to the other, tonguing and kissing and moaning against the sensitive flesh. Tony slides his fist loosely over his cock a few times, just because it feels good and Steve is so gorgeous.
“You’re so good with your mouth, honey,” Tony moans. He reaches forward and runs his hand down Steve’s hot, stinging back. The flesh is warm and red, obviously raw, and Steve moans.
Tony curls his fingers and claws his nails all the way up Steve’s back, and Steve lets out a scream, his whole body bowing as he releases Tony’s sac to yell.
“Oh, my good boy,” Tony says, grabbing hold of the back of Steve’s head and pushing his cock in, deep as he can, and Steve chokes a little on it, but his lips stay slack and he pushes himself forward to take Tony further, all the way into his throat, until his nose is pressed against Tony’s pubic hair. Tony holds them there, letting his cock choke Steve for a long moment, before he pulls back and lets Steve take a deep, gasping breath. His whole chest heaves with it, expanding and lifting off the spanking bench, muscles pulling in his arms.
Tony shudders, right up to the edge of coming, but he’s not ready to be done yet.
He drops to a crouch again, and presses a sloppy, wet, claiming kiss to Steve’s slack lips. He licks his way into Steve’s mouth, and Steve is passive, letting him – just a warm, wet mouth that Tony can do with as he likes.
He pulls back from the kiss, panting a little himself, and looks into Steve’s glazed, lust-addled eyes. He’s so deep now, floating, but Tony wants to take him further, drag him down until he can’t remember his own name – only Tony’s, and that he belongs to Tony.
He watches Steve float for a moment, then tugs a little at Steve’s hair and stands, moving back to the toy chest. He zeroes in on the thing he wants. They have a crop that’s a bit of a hybrid to a cane. It isn’t as vicious as a cane, but it’s still stiffer and sharper than an ordinary riding crop, and the end doesn’t have a leather pad. If he were going to use a cane on Steve, he would have started there, and their evening would have been fast and brutal and wild. But that’s not where Steve needs to be tonight. Steve needs to be in that place where he has no cares, no worries, no thoughts beyond the sting of his skin and his submission to Tony.
He brings the stiff crop over to Steve’s bench, proud of the way Steve stays facing forward, not craning his neck to look over his shoulder at Tony. Trusting in Tony, that Tony will bring him what he needs, what he wants, even if Steve can’t articulate it.
“I love you,” Tony says, his voice low and raw and sure. “I love you so much, Steve.”
“I love you, Tony, God,” Steve pants, sounding wrecked. “Please.”
“What’s your colour, honey?”
“Green, so goddamned green –”
Tony cuts off the proclamation by bringing the crop down hard and fast on Steve’s ass, already a deep cherry red from his work with the paddle and the flogger, and Steve screams, whole body spasming, cock throbbing, so Tony does it again and again, leaving new marks, crisscrossing his way up Steve’s beautiful ass, down the backs of his thighs, up to his lower back, until Steve is letting out a low, continuous moan, jerking helplessly against his bonds.
Without warning, Steve’s cock jerks and spurts, a sudden orgasm that has Tony’s own balls drawing up desperately, but he maintains control and keeps hitting Steve through it as Steve wails.
“Tony, Tony, god, Tony, please, fuck,” Steve is gasping, nonsensical and frantic. Tony moves to his side so he can see Steve’s face – his cheeks are red, damp with sweat and tears, his eyes closed tight as he cries, as he comes, and Tony keeps hitting him through it.
“You’re fucking beautiful, my gorgeous golden boy,” Tony growls, hitting harder, and Steve gets through his orgasm without passing out. His cock is still hard, though, and Tony is still hitting him with the crop, and Steve is still crying and yelling and begging.
Tony moves back down his body and stares at the dusky pink hole he’d kept bare this whole time. It’s twitching as Steve’s body clenches, and he can’t help himself – he angles the crop properly, softening the blow a little (but not that much) as he cracks the crop over Steve’s hole, between his magnificent asscheeks, and Steve howls, his whole body jerking, so Tony does it again.
“You’re so fucking good, Jesus Christ, Steve, look at you, you beautiful, magnificent – fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you,” Tony chants, hitting Steve’s twitching, winking hole with the crop every time he says love, and Steve is crying, really struggling now, gasping “green, green, green, please, green,” so Tony drops the crop, reaches for the lube and squirts it viciously over Steve’s hole. He squirts it on his cock, the cold temperature shocking him but making him needy at the same time, and he shoves a finger in Steve’s hole to work the lube in. He’s tight and hot like a furnace, but there’s no real resistance, so Tony works the lube over himself and then lines his cock up and presses in.
He’s not rough about this – he goes slow but steady, pushing his cock into Steve’s tight, hot, slick hole. Steve’s moan is low and constant, and his hips are shifting back to try and force Tony further into him, deeper and faster, but Tony maintains his slow, steady pace until he’s all the way in, hip bones pressed against the globes of Steve’s ass.
“I love you so much,” Tony says, his voice like gravel.
“Please, Tony, please, fuck me, please,” Steve wails, and Tony may be the one dominating him, but he’s helpless against Steve’s desire, his desperation, and all he can do is give Steve what he wants.
Tony pulls back and drives back in, fingers digging cruelly into Steve’s waist as he fucks him, hard and fast and brutal, and Steve cries out with every thrust, babbling as Tony does his best to angle himself over Steve’s prostate with every push.
Before Tony even knows what’s happening, reaching down and tugging roughly at Steve’s cock, and Steve cries out again, jerking and coming, spilling all over the floor beneath them. Tony’s whole body spasms as Steve clenches around him like a vice, and then Tony’s coming too, throbbing and spurting inside Steve, pulling out and spending the last of himself over Steve’s beautiful, red, abused ass.
Steve is shuddering, his whole body shaking with aftershock after aftershock. Tony drapes himself over Steve’s hot, swollen back as he tries to catch his breath and regain his bearings. After a minute, he pushes himself up to standing and reaches out, fingers clumsy, to unfasten the quick-releases of the straps holding Steve’s legs and arms down. Steve doesn’t move at first, even when he’s freed. He just lays there, limp, gasping for air.
“You’re so fucking amazing,” Tony moans, sliding back off Steve’s body. Steve gasps in pain – and pleasure – as Tony drags across his raw skin. “God, I love you.”
Steve only moans in response.
After another few calming breaths, Tony hauls himself up to standing, and then gently, carefully, helps Steve up as well. He gives them both a moment or two before he starts to guide Steve to the bed – the playroom bed, not the bedroom bed, because Tony isn’t sure he can walk them that far – and helps him lay down on his side.
He goes down to his knees at the side of the bed and kisses Steve, soft and slow and loving, trying to pour his feelings into it. Gratitude and love and pride, all rolled up in the press of his lips and the sweep of his tongue. Steve moans into it, so Tony lingers there for a long moment.
Finally, he pulls back and reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, which he’d made sure to stock before they started. He quickly uncaps it and lifts it to Steve’s lips, holding it steady so Steve can take sips at it until he’s ready for a proper drink.
When Steve is feeling up to it, he reaches out and takes the bottle from Tony’s hand, propping himself up on his elbow while he takes deeper drinks, swallowing until the bottle is empty.
Immediately, Tony takes a few sweet, juicy grapes from the bowl he’d also set out, and holds one out against Steve’s lips. Steve’s eyes are starting to clear, just a little, and there’s a soft, happy smile on his lips as he takes the treat between his teeth and bites down, before sucking the whole fruit into his mouth and starting to chew.
“Oh, Steve,” Tony sighs, whole chest bubbling with happiness at the way Steve always gives himself over. “Oh, you’re so beautiful.”
“Tony,” Steve admonishes, cheeks pinking as his eyelashes flutter. “God.”
“I love you,” Tony tells him, bursting with it. “God, I love you.”
“I love you,” Steve says back, bringing his arm up to press his palm against Tony’s chest. “You’re perfect, I love you.”
Tony holds out another grape, and Steve accepts it. He slowly feeds Steve grape after grape, sneaking a few for himself, until the bowl is empty. “Do you need a bath, honey, or just a wipedown?”
“Mmm,” Steve says, shifting a little. “Don’t need a bath. Just want to sleep, and hold you.”
Tony chuckles, sneaking a quick kiss to Steve’s nose. Steve scowls, but there’s no heat in it, so Tony reaches for the warming unit, which has some soft, damp towels in it, and opens it up. He pulls one of the towels out and uses it to carefully wipe the come off Steve’s back and ass, and the lube, thrilling a little at Steve’s hiss of sensitivity. He’ll bruise in an hour or so, from the flogger and the crop, but he’ll be barely pink by morning. Tony is utilitarian in the way he wipes his cock off, then drops the towel on the floor and crawls into the bed. Steve shifts back, hissing a little in pain, until there’s room for Tony, then wraps Tony up in his arms, throwing a heavy leg over Tony’s waist in an uncanny impression of a koala.
“I love you,” Tony murmurs again, into the skin of Steve’s neck, lips brushing against the deep red collar.
“I love you,” Steve whispers, nuzzling into Tony’s hair.
Tony reaches down and pulls the blanket over them, soft and warm and cozy.
“Next time,” Tony murmurs through a yawn, “tell me you need it before it’s so late.”
“Mmm,” Steve says, noncommittal. Tony muffles a laugh into Steve’s chest, then lightly scrapes his nails down Steve’s back. Steve yelps, gasping.
“Or don’t,” Tony says. “I like taking you apart.”
“I like it, too,” Steve says, still a little breathless.
“Well, then,” Tony smirks. He leans back a little and presses another kiss to Steve’s lips. “Guess we know where we stand.”
“Guess we do,” Steve agrees, kissing him back.
Tony laughs, then snuggles back into Steve’s chest.