It was 11:57. Kurt was supposed to meet him in three minutes, but Blaine of course had been sitting here since 11:39, having run from the firm at 11:30 on the dot, the start of his lunch hour, and walked briskly to the French restaurant he had Google Mapped and kept open in a tab on his laptop since he hung up with Kurt over 24 hours ago.

Considering the restaurant was only a ten minute walk from his office it might have been surprising that Blaine hadn't ventured into it before, but the truth of the matter was that this place had always kind of intimidated Blaine. The inside was all clean cut white furniture, and smudge free glass tabletops, and Zinc white walls and ceiling, all of which might have easily veered into the clinical but stayed safely on the fashionable side of things. When he wasn't in his work suits, Blaine was a simple jeans and a t-shirt type of guy, no matter how many blazers he wore (and he had worn his fair share of blazers in his time). He simply didn't feel like he belonged in places as fancy as this.

But of course Kurt did. Places like this seemed to be built specifically for the Kurts of the world, although Blaine thought Kurt to be one of a kind.

And speak of the devil, there he was, entering the bistro at 12:00 on the nose. Blaine quickly flagged him down from his spot in the corner, the most secluded table this restaurant offered which Blaine thought to be the most appropriate for the conversation they were about to have.

“Hello, Blaine.”

Kurt greeted him calmly as he removed his black peacoat to reveal another three-piece suit, this one being all black with military style buttons on the vest and a dark burgundy dress shirt underneath.

Blaine absentmindedly thought that Kurt looked like a portrait of Lucifer in his own three-piece suit, and he wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was getting into.

“Did you have trouble finding the place?”

“No, it's actually not very far from my office, I've walked past it enough times to find it easily.”

“Good.”

Kurt was sitting with his usual perfect posture although he had his legs crossed and his hands in his laps. Blaine instinctively straightened his own spine, feeling like everybody in the restaurant was judging his posture just by sitting alongside Kurt, but knowing intellectually that of the four other people in the bistro, none of them were paying him any attention.

Blaine sat there for a while longer, racking his brain for a way to start this already incredibly awkward conversation, but unable to come up with anything, let alone form the words in his suddenly very dry throat.

“Do I put you ill at-ease, Blaine?”

“Hmm?” Blaine's eyes were round and nervous, while Kurt smiled in a manner that seemed only slightly deprecating.

“You seem a little high-strung, is all.”

“Well, it's not everyday I have lunch with a Professional... Dom, so you'll have to excuse my less than stellar conversation skills, as I have no idea how to talk about any of-of this.”

Kurt frowned slightly at Blaine his lips tensing slightly in disapproval. Blaine shivered slightly at the thought of what Kurt's disapproval could mean in the future.

“Blaine, let me make something very clear: Domming, and subbing, cannot happen without talking about it. Dialogue is the very foundation of a good Dom/sub relationship and if you want you explore this further, you will have to talk about it, whether you are comfortable with it at first or not. Although I have to say, if this is really so uncomfortable for you--”

“No!”

Kurt stared, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst. Blaine could feel himself flush with embarrassment from the bottom of his neck to the tip of his ears, but he knew he had to get this out of his system now or he'd never gather the courage to do so again.

“No, I-I mean, yes, it may be a little difficult at first, but I want- I want to try this. I wouldn't have called you otherwise. The thing is Kurt, I wasn't kidding when I said that I don't do this kind of thing. I know nothing about-about what you do, you see, and that includes how to even talk about it. But that doesn't mean I don't want to try. To learn. Because I do Kurt.”

Blaine was looking at Kurt with completely open eyes, vulnerability and honesty ringing through with every stumbling syllable uttered. Blaine took a shuddering breath and lowered his gaze for his final admission, unable to face Kurt if he rejected his next words.

“I want to learn... An-And I want you to teach me.”

Blaine felt as though his face was hot enough to melt the ice caps. There, I laid it all on the line and now he can take it or leave it. If he leaves it, we never ever think about this ever again.

“That's very good, Blaine. Very good.”

Blaine felt himself flush with warmth, although this time, it was an all over, full-body warmth. The same warmth of pleasure Blaine felt when he did something right, but so, so much more. Because this time he didn't just do something right; he did something right by Kurt.

By his future Dom.

Blaine raised his face and he knew Kurt could see the pleased pink of his face although he held back the giddy smile bubbling up inside of him. He didn't want to make a complete fool of himself in front of Kurt just yet.

Not that he hadn't done so before.

He could see the satisfaction- and even the pride- in Kurt's contemplative appraisal of him, and Blaine found himself at a loss for words once again.

“Well, considering you seem to be very sure then, I think we should start off with the basics. I know you say you don't know what being a sub entails but surely you at least know of some of these things? It's not uncommon for couples nowadays to explore a bit of light BDSM in their private lives, light bondage, spanking, sensory deprivation, and such. Any experience in that area?”

“Um, no-not really. I wanted to explore these things when I was younger but my father made his opinion on the matter very clear. Not very supportive of the gay thing to begin with and he seemed to think that anything other than missionary sex would turn me into even more of a deviant. Then again even missionary seemed to be a bit too shocking for his sensibilities. Oh God, I'm rambling again, I'm sorry-”

“Don't apologize, Blaine. I just said that dialogue is important, nothing you say is wrong. I need you to feel free talking to me about these things, even if these things is about your less-than accepting father. Is that clear, Blaine?”

Kurt seemed to be waiting for an actual verbal reply.

“Yes, Kurt.”

“Very good. Now, I believe you were talking about how your Daddy issues have led to your tragically repressed sex life?”

Blaine let out a loud, albeit still slightly embarrassed laughed at Kurt's words and at the completely stone-faced way he delivered them, a tiny quirk of his lips the only hint of the light-hearted way he meant them.

“Yes, well I think you've summed it up pretty well actually. Nothing more to be said really, other than I would like to, um, remedy this 'tragic' situation of mine.”

Kurt smiled beatifically at him.

“You've come to the right guy.”

XXXXXXX

Kurt seemed to realize just how on edge Blaine had been and he had kindly strayed from the difficult topic at hand in favour for some brainless chatter that had Blaine slowly but surely relaxing into his iced tea. They ordered their lunch over easy conversation, mostly chit-chatting about the weather and work (well, Blaine's work), and it was only once Blaine's croque-monsieur and Kurt's blue cheese salad had arrived that Kurt broached the subject once more.

“So let's start off easy. Do you know about safe-words?”

Blaine paused mid-chew, then finished his bite and swallowed a sip of tea to gather his wits about him. He really did want to be able to talk about this stuff but 24 years of repression are hard to overwrite over the course of one meal.

“Yes, they're words that you use to let the other person know you want the to stop, right?”

“That's right. Now, in my case I like using a series of words: a go-ahead word, a pause or slow down but don't outright stop word and of course the full stop word. I find the Stop-Light system works best since it doesn't matter how wrecked you are, the words and the colors have had ingrained meaning since childhood. Do you think that you would be okay with that?”

Blaine looked down to his food and thought it over quickly. Yes, it seemed like a pretty simple system, not really prone to any confusion on either of their part.

“Yes, that sounds fine. Just- can I ask a question?”

“Of course, Blaine, I've said it before and I will say it again and again until it sticks: discussion is important. If you have questions then it is of the utmost importance that you ask them before getting into this. This isn't child's play.”

Blaine flushed a little at having Kurt repeat this over and over.

“Well the thing is, why are there even safe words? I mean, if I say stop, won't you stop? What if I forget the safe-word? Will you just keep going until you hear it?”

Kurt smiled at him.

“Well if we were playing out a scene that involved simulated rape for example, you would want to be into the scene, that means pleading, and saying 'stop' although in reality you mean 'keep going'. Sometimes when people get lost in a scene they'll say stop but they won't mean it. People say things they don't mean all the time, especially in the heat of the moment. However, I would only disregard you saying 'no' and 'stop' if we had discussed it before hand. If we were doing a scene that wouldn't involve dub-con—dubious consent— then I will pause when you say 'stop' and ask you if you want to safe-word or what color you were at.”

“Wait, so if you ask me to safe-word then it isn't the same as the color, stop-light system thingy?”

“No, the safe-word is usually a word that wouldn't come up in a sexual situation and red doesn't really fall into that category.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows.

“You talk colour theory in bed often?”

Kurt smirked.

“Of course, I do. I'm actually quite fond of commenting on the particular shade of red that adorns pretty little asses like yours after a nice spanking session.”

If Blaine had had any food in his mouth he's pretty sure he would've choked to death at that.

“Breathe, Blaine.”

Blaine drew in a deep breath and pushed aside all of the unbidden thoughts that came into his head at Kurt's words. He shifted slightly in his seat, hoping the edge of his blazer would mask the physical evidence of his response to them.

Kurt only smiled further at his fidgeting, smile growing sexy and dangerous.

Or maybe it was just dangerous and Blaine found that irresistibly sexy.

“Do you like that? What was it you liked Blaine, the dirty talk or the imagery I provided?”

Blaine blushed at being caught out, lamenting once again how well Kurt seemed to have a read on him.

“I don't know what you mea-”

Kurt interrupted him with a loud reprimanding 'tsk' sound. Kurt's eyes maintained their dangerous gleam.

“Now, I've been patient because you are very new to this, but I will have you know that I do not like repeating myself, in fact if I have to repeat myself, bad little subs have to be punished. I will say this one more time before there are consequences to your disobedience: discussion is primordial. I ask a question, you answer it. You ask a question, I answer it. Is that understood, Blaine?”

“Ye-yes, Kurt.”

“Good. Now, do I have to ask you again or will you tell me which of the two it was that aroused you?”

A small voice replied, seemingly outside of Blaine's free will.

“Both.”

Kurt's eyes softened the slightest bit, although they now seemed half-lidded with lust.

“That's very good, Blaine.”

Blaine was thrown so thoroughly for a loop for this conversation that it seemed as though his body had taken over and his brain had stopped working. Automatically, without any thought, Blaine preened over Kurt's compliments.

“Now, usually I would ask you what your limits are and what fetishes don't do it for you, but considering you know nothing about this then I propose something a little different. I won't list off all the things we could do today over lunch because I think it might scare you off so instead, you come over to mine once or twice a week and we slowly explore your kinks.”

“Wait, I thought you said we had to talk about everything?” Blaine looked slightly panicked at the thought that Kurt could just change the rules as he pleased.

“Oh, of course we'll talk about it, but we'll do so only a short while before we play, that way you won't let your repression and insecurities get the best of you and run away from me forever.”

Kurt was smiling benignly but his eyes had become dangerously sharp again.

“Why do I get the feeling you are doing this to trap me, so I can't run away?”

Kurt smiled widely.

“That's because I am. I just caught myself a very skittish boy, I'm not gonna let him get away from me easily. Do you have a problem with that, Blaine?”

Blaine swallowed thickly.

“No, I don't.”

“Good boy.”

XXXXXXX

Back at his apartment that night, Blaine let himself go over his lunch with Kurt.

He had had to put it out of mind at work after he photocopied the wrong brief 156 times over lest he be fired.

He lay in bed in his old Dalton issue flannel pajama pants and and old raggedy Henley, one hand tucked under his head and the other rubbing up his abdomen, rucking up his shirt, in a comforting gesture he had always done when deep in thought.

After Kurt had essentially admitted to wanting to trap Blaine (why did he like the thought?!) they had finished up their lunch and Kurt had told Blaine to meet him at his apartment the next Friday night, writing his address on the back of a napkin.

Kurt had picked up the tab. Blaine didn't know why that did something to him.

Well, maybe, genius, is because that would be the first time your date picked up the tab. Not counting the last time Kurt picked up the tab when he bought you a drink.

Blaine's lips quirked in a sad frown. Back home, the two boys he had briefly dated knew he came from old money; the name Anderson held weight back home. So they had just assumed that Blaine would pay. Not that Blaine had minded obviously, he liked taking care of others...

But it felt nice. Being taken care of instead.

He thought then of Jeremiah, who had never picked up a check, or even tried to past the first time he attempted to half-heartedly fight Blaine for it and Blaine had told him that money was not exactly an issue for him. Jeremiah, who Blaine had let move in with him after only a few months of knowing each other, for no rent. Blaine wondered morosely what Jeremiah ever did with his paychecks back then, if he had used the money to pick up the checks for tall, pale boys like the one he caught him with. If he had only been a sad excuse for a sugar daddy all along.

Blaine rolled over to his side and pulled his knees up to his chest. This entire thing had him feeling as though he was 16 again, na�ve, and putting on a brave face although he had no idea what was going on, or how to deal with it. He felt like he was lost at sea, caught in the middle of the storm that was Kurt.

Hurricane Kurt.

Just like he had done with the address for the bistro last Sunday, Blaine had Google Mapped Kurt's apartment building first thing when he got home, and the tab was open still and if Blaine was honest with himself it would probably remain open until that Friday night.

Just like he had done with his business card, Blaine spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the little map on his screen. He had mapped out the different ways he could get there, how long it would take him with each.

A 43 minute walk.

A 13 minute drive with traffic.

A 12 minute trip with public transportation.

Blaine shut his eyes tightly and tried to stop his heart from pounding straight out of his chest at the thought of Kurt being so close to him. He tried to stop himself from altering the trajectory of his weekend runs in his mind so he would jog past Kurt's house. He tried to stop himself from imagining what Kurt would to him if he simply showed up, filthy and sweaty from his run, on his doorstep. He tried not to imagine Kurt whispering things in his ear that were filthier than Blaine could ever be.

He tried and failed. For the first time, Blaine touched himself to the thought of another man talking dirty to him while he fucked him against a wall.

To the thought of Kurt telling him about all the fantastically dirty things he was going to do to him if he was a good boy.

Blaine couldn't remember ever coming harder in his life.

XXXXXXX

Blaine walked into Unmasked that Thursday more wound up than he had even been on his first time there, after having gone for a month without a relaxing drink. Although he usually went to the bar on Fridays but Blaine had plans on Friday.

Plans he needed to steel himself for with a stiff drink.

“Hey handsome! Fancy seeing you in here on a Thursday! I thought that privilege was reserved for Tuesdays and Fridays only! Couldn't go another day without seeing my beautiful face, right?”

Blaine's tense shoulders immediately dropped at the sound of Thea's bubbly voice, her particular brand of happy wiping the worries from his mind like no one else could.

“Thea! I thought Ryan worked Thursdays, what happened?”

Thea rolled her eyes in fond exasperation, the way she always did when she talked about her co-worker.

“He had a 'totally important date' with what could very well be 'The One'. Honestly, after all the times he's pulled that one you'd think I'd be used to it. Or that he would have found this damned 'One' by now! Oh well, though. I've got bills to pay so I'm not complaining! What about you? What brings you here on a Thursday?”

Blaine let himself collapse on the bar stool and buried his face in his hands. He thought back to Tuesday evening where the bar had been invaded by the local university's rugby team after a big win. Thea had been too busy to stop and chatter much with Blaine and he had been able to brush off her concern over his slightly haggard appearance with a gesture of his hand. Later on when she had been able to talk for a bit, Blaine's spirits had been lifted by talking to the guys from the rugby team and watching them make one of their teammates (who had scored his first goal, or touchdown or something) to drink the traditional beer straight from his dirty cleat, and they had basically spent the night poking fun at the guys and commenting on the cuter ones. But today, no amount of rugby players could distract Blaine from the nerves eating away at him.

“Thea, I have to tell you something, and I need you to not freak out. In fact, I need you to remain very impassive, for the sake of my sanity. Can you do that?”

Thea looked on at him with a slight frown at Blaine's serious expression.

“Sure, Blainey, what is it?”

Blaine took in a deep breath.

“Ok well, remember the guy I talked to last Friday? At the end of the bar? Well...” Blaine paused, wondering how much he should censor this story. “He gave me his number, and I called him on Sunday, and then we met for a lunch on Monday to see if we were both still interested and to talk a little and now I'm meeting him tomorrow at his apartment and I am just, so nervous Thea, you have no idea how daunting this entire thing is-”

Thea let out a sympathizing laugh that just sounded delighted that Blaine had boy trouble that didn't involve his scumbag ex.

“Blaine, he's just a guy, you don't need to be so nervous!”

“But he's not! Thea, he isn't like any other guy I've ever dated! He's not like any guy I've ever met! Just, he is so far out of my league Thea, he's is just light years away from me on like, every level, but for some reason he seems like he's actually interested in me, and I just don't know what to do with myself! It's like, I know he can do just, so much better. Is it selfish of me to still-”

Blaine was stopped mid-sentence by Thea's small hand slapping him in the face.

“Stop it! Stop that, right the fuck now! You are amazing. Do you hear me? You are seriously the nicest, smartest, sexiest, friendliest guy in my life, in this bar, in this entire damn city probably! You are amazing and I am lucky to count myself as your friend. So, as your friend, I command you to shut the fuck up, immediately!”

Blaine was staring at her wide-eyed before he snapped out of the daze Thea had put him in and broke out in the widest grin Blaine had probably smiled since his time with the Warblers. Maybe even ever.

He just happened to be crying a little at the same time.

Thea jumped up and threw her arms around his neck over the tall bar, and Blaine immediately wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her suspended a good two feet from the floor, smiling into her neck. He held her for a long moment before finally setting her down carefully. He saw that there were tears in the corners of her big blue eyes and he gave a little laugh as he wiped them and she wiped his.

“You realize you're probably my best friend this side of America, right?”

Thea gave a small watery laugh at that.

“Yeah well, same for me. Sucks to be you. Oh my- Oh my God Blaine, speak of the Devil! Oh, wh-”

Blaine looked over to where Thea had pointed to before covering her mouth only to find Kurt walking in the bar with a tall brunette. The guy must have had almost a foot over Blaine, and Kurt was looking at him with a face more open and joyous than he had ever seen it.

Blaine was seeing red, jealousy coursing through his veins. Before he could think it through, Blaine was standing from his stool and stalking over to Kurt. As he got closer he started to hear bits and pieces of his conversation with this Finn guy, although half a reprimand was all he heard before Kurt stopped his sentence, finding his arm being grabbed by a once again nervous looking Blaine.

Blaine shot Finn a small scowl before turning big hazel eyes to a shocked looking Kurt.

“H-Hi, Kurt. I just-um, I saw you from the bar and I, well I wanted to- to see if we were still on for tomorrow. Your place, 7 o'clock?”

Blaine's eyes flickered to the tall Finn guy before turning back up to meet Kurt's amused blue-green ones. He brought one hand up to Blaine's head and gently placed it atop his gelled curls, they way one would a small child or a dog. Blaine was torn between finding it comforting and being embarrassed at his completely uncalled for bout of jealousy.

“Of course, we're still on for tomorrow, Blaine. In fact, I was just telling my brother Finn here about this adorable guy I met at this very bar and the beer he recommended I try. Finn, this is Blaine.”

Blaine suddenly wasn't torn between being comforted and being embarrassed; he settled instead for being completely mortified.

“Yo-your brother, Finn. Finn, your brother. Of course, I'm sorry it's just you two don't look a thing alike...”

“Yeah, Kurt here and I are step-bros. His dad and my mom got married like, 8 years ago-”

“Nine, Finn. Seriously, their anniversary was like two months ago!”

“Right, well, yeah, whatever. Nice to meet ya Blaine. Wanna join us for a drink? Come on, take a seat!”

Finn was smiling hugely at him as though nothing would make him happier than to have a drink with him, and normally he would have loved to sit and talk with him but right now his body was screaming at him to get the hell away from Kurt before he made an even bigger ass of himself.

“Gee, I'd love to but I really don't think-”

“Nonsense, Blaine, come have a drink. You were such good company last time.”

“Kurt, I really think I should be going, I-”

“Blaine. Sit.”

Blaine was going to argue some more but Kurt's tone left no room for discussion. He was suddenly reminded of what Kurt had said at lunch that Monday.

I do not like repeating myself, in fact if I have to repeat myself, bad little subs have to be punished.

A shiver ran down Blaine's spine, whether from arousal, trepidation or anticipation, he couldn't yet tell.

“...Alright.”

Blaine took a seat at Kurt's side, sinking into the comfortable plush of the red velvet seat.

“Very good then. Now, beers for everybody?”

XXXXXXX

The next day, at exactly 6:58pm, Blaine was standing in front of Kurt's apartment door, trying desperately not to hyperventilate and pass out at Kurt's doorstep.

He's just a guy, he's just a guy, he's just a guy, he's just a guy.

This had become his mantra after last night. At first Blaine had scoffed at Thea's words, true, but after a few rounds of beer with the Hummel-Hudson brothers, Blaine found it slightly more believable and reassuring a phrase.

They had talked for about an hour or so, mostly about Finn's job working at their dad's tire shop, and the old man's general health. Blaine mostly sat there while the brothers caught up on the happenings in Lima, Ohio, sharing a laugh when they realized Blaine had lived a mere two hours away from them back in high school.

“That's awesome man! What a small world!”

Finn had been great fun to hang out with, his easy going nature putting Blaine completely at ease himself, something he hadn't expected to be able to do in Kurt's presence for a long time still.

Overall Blaine thought that the pros of his decision to walk over to Kurt to stake his claim, far outweighed the cons of being embarrassed to death for it. The only awkward moment after the initial malaise was when Finn asked Kurt how his job at the fashion house was doing and Kurt answered with a tight fake smile that Blaine was surprised Finn didn't see through.

So Kurt's family didn't know about his job then. Blaine didn't know what to make of that since Kurt had never seemed the type to hide who he was.

Maybe the exception was telling your parents that you dominate people for a living.

Which brought Blaine back to his present situation. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was now 6:59. Blaine had just under 60 seconds to gather his courage and knock at the damn door before he was officially late to his... whatever this was, with Kurt.

“So you said that when you um, do this stuff, you call it playing? Like a scene in a play?”

“Precisely, or it can also be used like playing a game, but I usually use it that way for a different type of situation. In a scene you're usually acting something out, but when you use it in the sense of playing a game then the game is the entire concept of Domming and subbing, and everything that encompasses it. It's just semantics really. In any case 'play' is the standard word for it.”

“So... since you do this as a living, do people just call you and ask to play?”

Kurt laughed a little.

“Well sometimes, nowadays I mostly work through my website though. That way I can screen my clients without having to meet them first, which is important in terms of safety. If I conclude that they're unlikely to be axe murderers then I book them for a first meet and then a session.”

“Does it pay well? Oh my God, I'm sorry, that's probably completely out of line-”

Kurt laughed again and Blaine took a bite of his croque-monsieur just to stop the word vomit from coming out of his mouth.

“That's fine, my rates are online anyway, so it's not very out of line. Consultations are 50$ and after that every session is 200$ an hour, with a minimum of one hour per session. Usually I'll have three or four sessions a day.”

Blaine choked on his food. Kurt reached over to pat him on the back, his face looking both amused and slightly concerned.

“Don't die on me now.”

“Kurt! That's at least 600$ a day!”

“Well actually, sessions usually run more than one hour so it averages out to about 900$ a day, but yeah. Lucrative business. Then again, I didn't always charge so much but I have the reputation of being very good at what I do, so I can afford to charge what I please.”

“So... we're having a session on Friday.”

“You could say that, yes.”

“Kurt, I need to tell you right now, I come from money and my job at the law firm pays well but I can't affo-”

“Blaine, please. This isn't a job for me, I'm doing this for my own pleasure, on my own time. I picked you up at a bar remember? Let's not sully this with money.”

“Says the man making a third of a million dollars a year.”

“Well I do take holidays Blaine, I'm not a work mule. With the cost of the gifts my clients give me I actually bank somewhere closer to a quarter million a year.”

“Gifts?”

“I have a wish list on my website.”

It was now 7:00. Kurt was a very punctual man if his perfectly timed arrival at the restaurant on Monday was anything to go by. If Blaine wanted to make a good impression for once, now would be the time the man up and knock on the door.

“You know, I can hear your brain working through the door, Blaine. You can knock on the door, I'm not going to eat you.”

Well there went his chance at making a good impression. Blaine raised his hand and knocked timidly on the wood three times. Kurt immediately swung the door open at the sound.

“Good evening, Blaine. Did you have a hard time finding the place?”

No, in fact I figured out over half a dozen ways to get to your house.

“N-no, I found it fine.”

“Good, come in then,” Kurt said shifting his body to the side to allow Blaine entrance to his apartment. The door opened directly into a spacious and very open living room. The far wall was completely comprised of floor to ceiling windows, giving whoever stood in front of them a brilliant view of the New York night time. Gauzy curtains were hanging over several intervals along the wall, waiting to be drawn for privacy although considering the height at which the apartment was, a helicopter flying by would be more likely to be able to peer into the living room than anything else.

In a corner of the room, on top of a raised portion of the floor, was a gleaming black baby grand with some sheet music spread out over the closed top, and Blaine suddenly found himself itching to try it out. The last time he had played piano since leaving home in Ohio was when he and Jeremiah had visited a music store about 8 months ago and Blaine tried out the instruments for fun, but Jeremiah didn't like Blaine drawing so much attention to himself and soon enough made them leave.

At the center of the room were some cream coloured leather couches and loveseats, facing a large television and entertainment center at the opposite end of the glass wall. On the far right wall was an electric fireplace that burned softly and added warmth to the place.

All in all it was the most tastefully designed room Blaine had ever set foot in, and he had grown up in a house that his mother paid interior decorators thousand of dollars to redo every year. It was exactly the kind of place he would have imagined Kurt lived in if he had had the creativity and the flair to think up an apartment such as this.

“Have a seat Blaine, I'll get us something to drink. Would you like anything in particular?”

Blaine turned to Kurt, who was patiently standing at the door while Blaine had his look-around.

“A beer?”

“Sorry, as a rule neither I nor the sub can be in an altered state of mind before a session. Can I offer you an iced tea instead?”

Blaine flushed a little before saying yes, tea would be lovely, and taking a seat on the near end of the couch. As he waited for Kurt to return his their drinks, Blaine took off his jacket, scarf and gloves and took some steadying breaths. The pep-talks he had been giving himself all week were seeming weaker and weaker as every second ticked by and the reality that Blaine was actually going to do this sank in. Before Blaine could whip himself into a true frenzy over this, Kurt strolled in carrying a silver tray with to tall glasses of iced tea in them. On the tray was also a small dish of lemon slices, a sugar bowl and coasters.

“I make the iced tea myself, so it might be a little bitter for your taste since I don't add the pound of sugar commercial brands are fond of adding to iced tea. Feel free to add some sugar to your liking however, I won't take offense.”

Blaine reached out for the tea and brought it up to his lips for a sip before deciding whether or not it really needed sugar, only to find it pleasantly tart. He reached instead for a lemon slice which he dropped into his drink.

“It's delicious, Kurt. And your place, it's absolutely lovely Kurt, I can't even begin to tell you how beautifully decorated I find it.”

“Thank you, I did that myself too. Decorating and designing were always big passions of mine, so I wasn't about to let some fool of an overpaid designer ruin the beauty of the apartment by letting him do whatever he wanted to it.”

Blaine was staring at Kurt mouth agape by this point.

“Is there anything you can't do Kurt?”

Kurt laughed at that.

“There's some things although I do make it a habit of trying to excel at everything I try my hand at. Vestiges of my teenage years when I felt I had to prove to everybody just how much better I was than them.”

“I get that, being gay in Ohio, you sort of have to make yourself feel accomplished and talented, otherwise it's to easy to let the ignorants get the best of you.”

Kurt looked at Blaine as though he had said something astounding before smiling softly, softer and truer than Blaine had ever seen it outside of talking with Finn maybe.

“Exactly.”

There was a slight lull in the conversation as they smiled at each other and drank their tea, before Kurt cleared his throat and set his glass down.

“Now, I know we talked about the Stop-Light system over lunch on Monday, but we never got down to picking a safe-word. Is there any that comes to mind right now? Anything that you've thought up during the week?”

Blaine followed Kurt's example and set his glass down on a coaster before folding in hands in his lap.

“Yes, uh, I was thinking Dalton.”

“Hmm... I think that's okay but I would rather you pick something that is more unlikely to come up during a scene.”

Blaine shot Kurt a bewildered look.

“Kurt, I hardly think I'm going to start talking about my high school in the middle of sex or whatever it is we'll be doing.”

“Do you still have your uniform, Blaine?”

“Well, yeah, why do you ask?”

Kurt shot him a look that clearly said he was judging him a bit for not catching on.

“What if we're playing a scene involving you in a school boy uniform? If we're gonna be playing out high school fantasies then the name of your high school would be an unsuitable safe-word. Try again.”

“Oh. Ok. Um-” Blaine tried desperately to think up a word but Kurt had unfortunately seemed to fry his brain with the possibility of Blaine wearing his old Dalton uniform for a session. Blaine didn't have a clue that he could find the idea of it so erotic. “Warblers?”

“As in The Dalton Academy Warblers? Blaine, no, same as before. Now, try again, something completely random, first thing that comes to mind.”

“Uh, armadillo.”

Kurt let out a small chuckle.

“Really, Blaine? That's the first word that came to mind?”

“Is it not okay either? I'm sorry, I'll-”

“No, no Blaine, that's fine, 'armadillo' is a perfectly fine safe-word, it's about as unlikely to come up during sex as anything can get. I'm just curious as to how that brain of yours operates that armadillo of all things is the first thing that comes to mind. Now that that's settled we can move on to titles. Usually, during a scene the sub won't refer to his Dom by first name, titles are used. Unless we're playing out a particular fantasy where specific titles are used, such as 'Teacher' or 'Professor' to go back to the previous example, I go by Master or Sir. Are you comfortable with calling me that?”

Blaine uttered a yes through too-dry lips.

“Very good. Okay, so we've covered titles and safe-words, so we still need to talk about other safe practices and then we'll discuss what I have planned for tonight. Are you still with me, Blaine?”

“Ye-yes.”

“Alright then. Now You know that safe-words are used when you want to game to stop, or to slow down and I know you understand the Stop-Light system, but I need you to really understand that you are not just free to safe-word whenever you need it, you are obligated to safe-word when you need it. No matter what we are doing, no matter if we are in the middle of an otherwise good time or you are being punished or whatever, you will never be reprimanded or punished for stopping me. Can I trust you to use your safe-words?”

Blaine sat back and thought about it seriously. He couldn't envision himself not stopping Kurt if things went too far for him but out of respect for the situation he tried to give it some real thought.

“Yes, Kurt, you can trust me to safe-word.” At this, Blaine quirked his lips. “I thought this entire thing was just about me trusting you?”

Kurt smiled a little sadly, as though remembering something painful and Blaine was sad to have put that look on his face.

“No, trust is a two way thing. Now, there are times where you won't be able to properly safe-word, so I have other measures set in place. If you have a gag in place and you can't formulate words I want you to hum. It doesn't have to be any specific song, or even on-key, just hum something remotely melodic and I will stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Blaine tried not to look like he was still stuck on the visual of Kurt gagging him.

“Okay now there might be times you can't hum, say if we're doing some breathplay, so I'll need you to tap me out. Three consecutive taps followed by a grip, otherwise it could be mistaken for something else. If your hands are tied then I need you to blink in the same pattern; three deliberate blinks followed by closing your eyes tightly. If we're doing breathplay I never allow for too much sensory deprivation, just as a saftey measure: if you're blindfolded then your arms are free, if you're tied up then your eyes are uncovered. Is that clear? Repeat the safety measures back to me.”

“If I'm g-gagged, I hum a song, if I can't hum I tap you three times then grip you, if I can't tap you I blink three times and shut my eyes. But um, Kurt?”

“Yes, Blaine?”

“What do you mean by breathplay?”

“Oh, that's just common jargon for erotic-asphyxiation. Cutting off air supply during sex. It can be done by choking or otherwise constricting the air pipes, putting pressure on the chest, gas masks or plastic bags, or such, but I don't use plastic bags as a general rule. Too dangerous.”

Blaine felt light-headed all of a sudden. This one Blaine really couldn't wrap his head around.

“Ch-choking? But why?”

“Well when your air supply is being limited you experience a light-headedness which some find contributes to the orgasm. When done right, breathplay can lead the system into a state of almost survival, and it sends adrenaline coursing through the system, making the experience sharper, feeling things to their full extent. It's actually quite pleasant, but more than that it's what I like to think of as the absolute trust exercise. You are literally putting your neck on the line, your life in somebody else's hands and trusting them to keep you alive and to make the experience pleasurable. Complete trust and control are necessary to safely try erotic-asphyxiation, that's why I don't do it with clients that aren't regulars. Are you alright, Blaine?”

Blaine was having air troubles of his own as he couldn't regulate the quick shallow breaths he was taking. Oh God, he was having an anxiety attack. Suddenly, there were two hands cupping his face, and Kurt's face swam into focus. Blaine's wild eyes locked onto Kurt's calm ocean blues.

“Blaine, I need you to listen to me. I need you to try to breath. Do as I do, alright? Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, at the same pace as I.”

Blaine looked on at Kurt who was breathing deliberately, with exaggerated nose flaring and chest expansions. Blaine tried to imitate him.

“That's right, very good Blaine, try again. Deeply in, and out.”

Blaine couldn't have told how much time he spent with Kurt gently cradling his face in his hands, trying to breathe in sync before the thick anxious fog dissipated from his brain. They breathed slowly for a few more moments before Kurt spoke.

“That's very good, Blaine. You did very good, beautiful.”

It was the first time Kurt had used a term of endearment or a pet name since the first time Kurt had called him a good boy at the bistro. Blaine sagged in Kurt's grasp. When he spoke up it was in a soft vulnerable voice that almost broke Kurt's heart.

“I don't think I'm ready for breathplay, Kurt. I'm sorry.”

Kurt's eyebrows took on an endeared slant and he began stroking the cheekbones beneath his hands with his thumbs.

“Oh, beautiful, you have nothing to apologize for. Breathplay is a very hard limit, one that even I wouldn't feel comfortable trying with you any time soon. When we spend time together I will be pushing you to try new things, and to push your own limits to the max, but I promise you right here and now, I will never push breathplay on you, okay? If you ever want to try it, no matter how many months or years into the future, you will be the one to bring it up, alright?”

Blaine's breath hitched a little at the cavalier way Kurt talked about them months or years from now, but he didn't say anything about it.

“Okay. Thank you, Kurt.”

“I'm your Dom, Blaine. You never have to thank me for respecting your limits.”

XXXXXXX

After Blaine had calmed down, Kurt had asked Blaine if he wanted to call it a night. Several times over actually, but Blaine was determined to follow through. He couldn't leave Kurt's apartment with only the memory of a panic attack and Kurt's words. He needed to go through with this or he might never bring himself to come back.

So now they found themselves in what Kurt had called his play room.

“The term dungeon is so drab, don't you think?”

Blaine didn't have any real point of contention with the term either way, but he could see how this room didn't really fit into what he would have thought a dungeon would look like. The color of the walls was a light cream but in every corner was a bunched up black velvet curtain, with a suspension system that ran along the entire span of the walls.

“For easy redecoration; I'm partial to light colours myself but some of my clients prefer the more classic black look. And who am I to deny them?”

Along one of the walls was a table, a large wooden X fixture- a St-Andrew's Cross, Kurt had called it- and a spanking bench. On the opposite wall was a throne-like chair, several cushions and what looked to be a large dog-bed. One of the other two walls was barren except for metal rings and bars at different heights and the last one held three dark wood armoires. Blaine wanted to ask what each of them contained but he was rendered mute by the sudden onslaught of nerves. When Kurt had told him what he had planned for tonight, he hadn't been all that worried.

“You said you liked the idea of spanking, so for tonight I thought we could have a simple spanking session. I will be using a paddle but not a hard wooden one or a studded one for your first time, just a supple leather one. The game starts the second we set foot in the room. Is that okay with you?”

Yes, it had definitely been okay with Blaine. But now, faced with the reality of it and being in the room, Blaine was wondering if he should have thought this through a little better.

He was waiting for Kurt to come back. He had gone to get changed, although Blaine had told him he had no preference as to what he wore.

“It's best that I have an outfit for play time and a different one for off time, at least at first, so that you can clearly disassociate the two. Unless we are in a full-time D/s relationship it's bad to have a power bleed in the relationship. No matter what we do in play time, off time is a relationship of equals.”

He had told Blaine to take of his shirt, pants, shoes and socks and to hang them in the third, smaller armoire along the wall, but he had only gotten so far as taking off his shoes and socks before his fingers started trembling too much. His shirt was half unbuttoned when Kurt walked into the room.

He looked amazing. He was wearing tight leather pants that molded to the shape of his legs, accentuating their slimness and their length. He had on some knee-high lace-up black combat boots and a black leather shrug that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his neck and arms.

His torso was bare from two inches before his nipples to his hipbones, and Blaine couldn't stop staring a the pale, perfect expanse of skin before him. Kurt was tutting disapprovingly at him.

“Now, I thought I made myself perfectly clear when I said I wanted you in your underwear when I came back into the room. Disobeying already? Good little pets should know better. Strip by the time I count to ten and I might go easy on you. One, Two, Three...”

It was only when Kurt raised an eyebrow at him on Three that Blaine snapped out of his stupor and began unbuttoning his shirt like his life depended on it, quivering fingers be damned.

“...Six, Seven...”

Blaine chucked off his now opened shirt before undoing his pants and sliding them down his hips. He cursed himself for wearing such tight pants as they clung to his skin and took up more time than he would have liked with an undershirt still to go.

“...Ten. Oh, dear.”

Blaine stood in the middle of the room, discarded jeans pooling at his feet where he had kicked them off, next to his now wrinkled shirt. The thin cotton tee was still on him.

“Looks like somebody wants to be punished, because surely my sub wouldn't be such a bad boy. Pick up your clothes, pet.”

Blaine flushed and picked up the clothes. He had them gathered in a bunch in his arms as he looked on at Kurt, eyes wide.

“Well? Put them away, Blaine.”

Blaine didn't know why but he didn't like that Kurt had used his name, it felt like a reprimand all its own. He wasn't a good enough sub to be called one.

Blaine hurried to hang up his clothes in the closet, after which he shut the doors to it and turned around, leaning against them, head bowed and arms behind him.

“Pet knows he has been bad, doesn't he? Just look at him, head down, waiting for his punishment like a good little boy. Come here, beautiful.”

Blaine took three steps forward on shaky legs until he was standing directly in front of Kurt. He kept his gaze instinctively lowered, looking at Kurt's shoes.

“Now, somebody is still wearing more clothes than good little subs are allowed,” Kurt hooked a slim finger on the bottom of the t-shirt. “Take it off. Slowly.”

Kurt took a step back so that he could watch him.

Blaine finally looked up to find Kurt staring at him expectantly. He crossed his arms and grabbed the hem of the shirt at his hips and lifted the shirt as slowly as he could, not breaking eye-contact with Kurt until the shirt was over his head. Once freed from it, Blaine looked at Kurt again, only to find him looking pleased and aroused. Blaine realized that his breath was already coming out in short pants and that he was half-hard in his dark blue boxer briefs.

“Good boy.”

Blaine let out a small, almost silent whimper.

“Now, don't think this means you won't be punished for being disobedient. Since you were so good just now, I will be gracious and allow you to choose where you will be spanked, either over the knee, on the bench or against a wall. You will thank me for being so benevolent.”

Blaine realized that he was expected to speak for the first time of the session. He gulped before speaking.

“Yes, Sir. Ag-agaisnt the wall, please, Master. Thank You for being so benevolent.”

If Blaine wasn't panting with arousal before, he certainly was now. There was no way he could have anticipated the sensuous ease with which the words flowed from his tongue, nor the spike of hot arousal and submission that shot through him once uttered. Blaine was already achingly hard and Kurt hadn't even touched him yet.

Oh, God, why did I deprive myself this for so long?

“Very good, pet, against the wall it is. Turn around, face the wall, palms flat, feet apart, ass out.”

The series of commands rang out in Blaine's ears and he was almost tripping over himself to execute them. He was facing the wall with the rings, arms outstretched and locked before him, feet shoulder width apart, ass presented to Kurt. Blaine was covered with a light sheen of sweat as his body was completely overheated with arousal.

Suddenly he felt the cool leather of Kurt's boots kicking gently at the inside of his feet, spreading his legs wider and wider until Blaine was almost straining with the effort.

It felt wonderful.

“Much better. Now, let's see what we're working with here, shall we?”

Kurt hooked his fingers over the back of the elastic band of his briefs and pulled them down until they rested just under Blaine's cheeks, defining their round fullness and almost lifting them. Blaine shivered at the mental image of him.

Kurt hummed happily at the sight as he rubbed his palms over them. He slapped one cheek lightly and Blaine let out a tiny moan he hoped Kurt hadn't heard.

“Oh my, lucky me, I have a beautiful new ass to play with. I think it would look even better a nice shade of red though, don't you agree?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

“Hmm, so eager! Well pet, I'm not gonna keep you waiting much longer.”

With a parting squeeze to both cheeks, Kurt turned to the middle armoire and grabbed a paddle from the door. Blaine could briefly see that it was about a foot long with the handle, black fur on one side and smooth leather on the other.

Blaine was practically vibrating with anticipation. His knees buckled slightly when he felt Kurt running the furry side of the paddle over the sensitive flesh at the back of his thighs and his ass.

Suddenly a slap rang out in the air. Blaine registering the sound before the sharp flare of pain. He let out a loud moan once it did.

“Oh, and such a beautiful reaction too! I really am lucky to own such a pet aren't I?”

Kurt slapped his other cheek before Blaine could formulate a response or even figure out if he was expected to. Once again Blaine let out a soft moan at the sensation, one moan becoming a succession of sounds as Kurt kept smacking him lightly with the paddle.

Blaine felt like he was melting, while Kurt kept humming happily behind him.

“Hmm, well I think that's enough fun for now, this is meant to be a punishment! Somebody has been a very bad boy. I think twenty smacks should be fair, no?”

“Wh-whatever you want, Master.”

“Good answer. Count them out.”

Before Blaine could figure out what Kurt meant, Blaine felt a sharp smack, harder than any of the previous ones on his right ass cheek. He let out a loud cry that sounded equal parts surprised, pained and immensely aroused. The final product sounded surprisingly wanton.

“Beautiful noise, but that wasn't counting. Try again.”

Another smack, just as hard as the last to his left cheek.

“Ah! One!”

“Very good, pet.”

Another smack, to his right.

“Tw-two, oh God!”

Kurt kept this up, alternating right to left, smacks getting progressively harder and Blaine becoming progressively more desperate. Several times he had to be smacked again because he forgot to count.

Another smack.

“Seventeen!”

It was probably more like twenty-two. Another smack.

“Hng! Eight-eight...”

“Now, now, pet, eight was a long time ago. Try again.”

Another smack. Blaine's knees were shaking so hard he didn't know how he was still standing. His cock was so hard he felt that a single touch would push him over the edge.

“Eighteen! Eighteen!”

Another smack.

“Nnnghineteen.”

“I'll let it slide. Final smack, this time I want to hear 'Thank You, Master, for punishing your pet.'”

A smack across both his cheeks, right on the cleft. Blaine let out a loud whine.

“Bad, pet. 'Thank You, Master, for punishing your pet.' Try again.”

It took Blaine three more tries before he managed to choke out the words. Blaine was sweating profusely and was panting harder than he did after his weekend jogs. Blaine thought he would die from arousal.

And then he felt Kurt rubbing up against his sore ass, his hard dick sliding in between his abused cheeks, slick with the sweat running down Blaine's spine. He was thrusting against him, his hipbones slamming his cheeks, sending flares of painful pleasure down to his cock. Kurt's hand slid up his sweaty chest and tweaked his stiff and achy nipples. One of the hands slid down to Blaine's straining erection, squeezing once. He felt Kurt's breath by his ear.

“Come for me, my beautiful boy.”

Blaine came with a loud cry before he promptly blacked out.

XXXXXXX

When Blaine came to, he found himself being wiped clean of his come on his front and of Kurt's come on his back with a moist towelette as he was held up on his knees by a strong arm across his pecs.

He was sad he missed that.

“Back to the world of the living, are we Blaine?”

Blaine was panting, still out of breath from the unbelievable orgasm that had just racked through his body.

“The game is over. How do you feel?”

“How-how do I feel? Kurt, I just passed out from the force of my orgasm, that's how I fucking feel.”

Kurt chuckled and finished wiping Blaine off.

“No, I meant, was that okay? Did you feel I pushed you too far? Did you feel uncomfortable at any point of the session?”

“...No, Kurt it was- it was fantastic. I never would have guessed just how much I enjoyed that. How- how right it felt.”

Kurt pulled Blaine's boxer briefs up and Blaine let out a small hiss of pain as the elastic caught the sore flesh of his ass. Blaine turned around on his knees to face Kurt, who looked like the very picture of perfection with the light sheen of sweat on his face and chest and with a slight flush still colouring his cheeks from his climax.

“The soreness should get better with time, but for the first time it might linger for a couple of days. You should be better by work on Monday.”

“...I hope it's not. I want to remember this.”

Blaine was shocked at his own admission, but he found that he couldn't take it back. It was true. He wanted to feel the evidence of Kurt's actions on him for as long as he could. Kurt just smiled at him, looking pleased and maybe a little proud.

“Then maybe we can meet up on Sunday and I can freshen up the beautiful shade of red you've got going on.”

Blaine smiled.

“It's a date.”