“What are you wearing right now?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re opening with?”

“Did I ask you to comment or did I ask you a question?” Kurt’s voice came back through the phone, sharp and clipped in the way that meant this wasn’t just banter.

So this was that kind of conversation. Blaine felt his body shift into the state that it always did when Kurt turned on the dominance; his brain completely relaxing into the idea of being under his dom’s control while at the same time his body tensed, poised to follow whatever commands Kurt was going to give.

“You asked me a question,” he said simply. Always precise. Always obedient.

“Answer it.”

“I’m wearing pajama pants. No underwear. No shirt.”

“Take them off.”

Blaine fumbled for a minute; he was never very good at keeping the little phone between his ear and shoulder. “I’ll have to put the phone down for a sec.”

Kurt heaved an aggrieved sigh that sent a shudder down Blaine’s spine. It had taken Kurt a while to understand his desire to be made to feel inadequate – as if he wasn’t quite measuring up. But it was simple, really. The higher the bar of Kurt’s approval was, the greater the rush when he eventually attained it. Kurt had very sensibly pointed out that it was all just an illusion; he loved everything about Blaine no matter what. But eventually he had to admit that Blaine’s reaction to the illusion of disapproval was hot for both of them.

“Headphones, Blaine,” Kurt said in the tone of voice you’d use with a three-year-old.

The headphones were on his kitchen table, attached to his laptop. He scooped them up, plugged them into the phone, and hurried to his bedroom to strip off his pajamas.

“Okay,” he announced when he was done, “I’m naked.”

“So am I,” Kurt said, in that way he had of being able to sound like a serious dom one minute and a horny teenager the next. “I want you to lay on your back on the bed.”

“Okay.”

“I talked to Thomas after class yesterday.”

Blaine’s cock went from semi-erect to rock hard in the space of seven words.

Thomas was the submissive half of the couple who taught Kurt’s dom class. He and his partner Mira had never had a student who was already in a claim and they seemed to have made it their own personal mission to prepare Kurt to handle his older, more experienced soulmate. So many incredibly erotic moments had begun with Kurt saying “Mira thought you might like . . .” or “Thomas told me about . . .” that Blaine’s cock had learned to get hard preemptively just at the mention of one of their names.

The Friday after his very first class, when they’d finally stumbled into Blaine’s apartment after a tense family dinner night, Kurt had pulled four photocopied pages out of his bag and had made Blaine strip and model the various kneeling poses illustrated on the sheets. After his first long week of denial just being alone with Kurt had Blaine aroused, and he had only gotten harder as Kurt circled him, appraising each position, moving his arms this way and that, tilting his head up or down, making sure his legs were far enough apart that his balls were easily accessible to nimble, teasing fingers. It made Blaine feel completely objectified and about halfway through he realized that must be the actual point of the exercise. The positioning was just an excuse for Kurt to make Blaine feel like nothing more than a toy for his dom’s enjoyment. When Kurt finally settled on the exact right configuration (head down, hands gripping elbows behind his back in a way that made him hyper-aware of the vulnerability of his nipples, legs spread just a bit farther apart than was comfortable so that his balls swung gently, heavy with arousal, with the tiniest movement), he said “Memorize that,” and walked right out of the room and Blaine resolved to send Thomas and Mira a generous gift certificate to the Bondage Depot as a thank you.

He’d lost track of time kneeling there listening to the sounds of dishes and cabinet doors as Kurt puttered around the kitchen, the stress of their first week “out” slowly melting out of his body, and by the time Kurt came back his thighs were trembling gently from the strain and his shoulders just starting to ache with the stretch. The value of his imaginary gift certificate had doubled when Kurt had stopped a few feet in front of him and said roughly, “You moved.”

The disapproval, the disappointment in the words had made Blaine want to crumple forward and prostrate himself at Kurt’s feet, even as his cock had throbbed with renewed intensity at the tone of Kurt’s voice. “I’m sorry, Sir,” he’d murmured without thinking as he adjusted his head back to the memorized position. It had been only the second time he’d ever called Kurt Sir.

After that Kurt had let Blaine blow him, still holding the position. He’d come hard and fast and the fact that the situation seemed to have turned him on as much as it had Blaine only made the whole thing hotter. His own orgasm had had to wait, though, until much later that night, after an evening spent serving Kurt in any way he could think of, trying to be as perfect as he possibly could to earn back his approval. And when Kurt had finally laid him out on the bed and stroked him with firm purpose and whispered in his ear that he was such a good, perfect sub he’d come with earth-shattering intensity and fallen asleep almost instantly, sated, exhausted, cradled in Kurt’s arms

Several weeks after that, on a different Friday night, Kurt had presented him with a bag full of long swatches of fabric and another worksheet. This one was titled “25 Ways To Drive Your Sub Crazy With a Scarf” and Blaine had suspected that Mira and Thomas had made that one up especially for Kurt and not actually handed it out to the class as a whole. Kurt announced his intention to get through at least the first ten before he’d even think of getting down to any actual sex.

That night had been different from the first: they were more relaxed and they’d rolled around on the bed giggling and teasing each other as they tried various bondage positions illustrated on the handout. Some seemed simple on the page but proved almost ridiculously impossible to achieve. Others looked wickedly complicated but went on easily and turned out to be more erotic than they’d anticipated. Number six was to simply use a scarf as a blindfold, and Blaine had certainly been blindfolded before, but when Kurt had kissed him while he was blind, teasing in and out, pulling back so Blaine struggled after his lips then pressing hard and hot into his mouth, he’d really, really wished that number six was actually number ten. Until they got to the real number ten, that is.

Kurt’s eyebrows had gone up while he silently read number ten and he dug around in his bag until he found a thin strip of a scarf hardly wider than a ribbon. For something so intimate it had started so simply. Kurt had been more focused on the diagrams in front of him than on the idea of what he was doing as he wrapped the end of the fabric around the top of Blaine’s scrotum, separating it from his dick and stretching it out just enough to bring Blaine back to full erection after the fits of laughter number nine had brought on. Kurt had handled him almost clinically, mouth moving as he’d silently read the instructions and Blaine had to bury his hands in the blankets and hold on for dear life as Kurt began to wrap the scarf in a figure eight around his balls, separating and isolating them. It wasn’t until the second pass that Kurt’s hands had slowed and his attention had returned to Blaine’s body as he seemed to realize for the first time exactly what he’d been doing. He’d stared at Blaine’s bound balls for a long minute, and when he’d finally looked up his eyes had been dark and intense. The strangest moment had passed between them when teasing and fun became something much more. Something they’d stumbled into entirely by accident. They were both breathing hard by the time Kurt had returned his attention to his task, abandoning the picture and wrapping the fabric around Blaine’s cock, just tight enough, slowly winding from base to tip almost mesmerized by his own movements. Blaine had been mesmerized too, feeling the material tightening around his increasingly rigid length, and when Kurt had gotten far enough that the pressure began to build in the head of Blaine’s cock he couldn’t help whimpering and thrusting the tiniest bit against Kurt’s hand.

Kurt had finished quickly then, running a few diagonal wraps back down the length of his shaft and tying the scarf off in a neat bow. When he’d sat back to survey his handiwork Blaine could see him trembling. Tying Blaine’s dick up like that had made Kurt literally shake with arousal and when he raised his eyes to Blaine’s again, whispering his name like a revelation, the look on his face was something Blaine hadn’t seen before. Desire, dominance, maybe even a little fear and all mixed with something so – predatory had been the only way Blaine could think to describe it.

Then Kurt had leaned forward, slowly and deliberately, and touched the point of his tongue to the swollen head of Blaine’s cock, aiming unerringly for the slit and dipping in, and helpless need spiked through the center of Blaine’s belly and made stars spark behind his eyes. His moans broke into a litany of chanting – Oh God, Kurt, please, God I love you, please, please – as Kurt’s tongue, still just a tiny point, played havoc with the intensely sensitive flesh and his long, graceful fingers stroked and pulled and rolled Blaine’s aching balls. The fact that Kurt was intentionally causing him pain, even just a little, made Blaine feel like his brain might explode.

Then in a short, sharp move Kurt had shoved Blaine backward to lay flat on the bed, straddled his chest, and pushed his own leaking cock deep into Blaine’s waiting mouth. Blaine had to stifle a laugh at the thought that he’d once been afraid Kurt wouldn’t be able to dominate him. There they were, not two months into their claim, and Kurt had him pressed to the bed, cock tied and aching – he could feel his heartbeat against the fabric restricting him - fucking his mouth like he’d been doing it for years, one hand reaching back on the out-stroke to tease his balls, making him whine around Kurt’s dick as stabs of pleasure/pain rolled up his body with each little squeeze and poke.

He’d waited to come that night, too, waited while Kurt’s orgasm exploded down his throat, waited as he unwrapped the scarf from Blaine’s dick with excruciating gentleness that left Blaine almost sobbing with need, waited while they watched an interminable episode of Project Runway, or at least while Kurt watched and Blaine curled into his chest and trembled as Kurt’s gentle, distracted fingers tormented him beyond belief. And when Kurt finally started stroking him with intent and murmured permission he’d come through almost silent tears and a whispered mantra of thank you, thank you, thank you.

His first coherent, back-to-earth thought had been that there was no gift certificate big enough to convey his appreciation to Thomas and Mira.

So when Kurt mentioned Thomas over the phone that Thursday night, Blaine’s response was immediate and intense. It was, after all, close to the end of a week of extra-inspired teasing from his dom and he knew that whatever else happened tonight, it was unlikely to end in an orgasm for him.

“Don’t you want to know what we talked about?” Kurt asked innocently, as if he had no idea what havoc he was already wreaking on Blaine’s needy body.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“First get some lube.”

Oh, yes. This was definitely going to be one of those conversations.

“I’m ready,” he said when he’d coated his fingers in lube.

Kurt’s voice was deeper than usual when he commanded, “I want you touching yourself. You can stroke slow or fast, however you want, but your hand keeps moving until I tell you to stop, understand?”

Blaine wrapped his hand gently around his cock and immediately was struck by how odd it felt. It had been weeks since Blaine had touched himself this way. He wasn’t allowed to do it when he was away from Kurt, and when they were together it was usually Kurt touching him, and vice versa, so holding his own hard dick had become a rarity. It felt strange and wonderful to stroke himself in his own time, with his own rhythm, and he turned himself over to it just a bit, letting himself ramp up toward release faster than was probably wise.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kurt asked sharply.

Fuck. He was already messing up. “Yes.”

“And are you doing it?”

Blaine slowed his strokes down and tried to concentrate on Kurt’s voice instead of his own pleasure. “I’m doing it.”

“So last night I talked to Thomas about how much you like it when I don’t let you come.”

Blaine held his breath and slowed his hand down as much as he possibly could and still call it moving.

“I told Mira that I didn’t really understand what you got out of it and she said Thomas was really into it too, so I stayed after to ask him about it.”

“You could have just asked me, you know,” Blaine said.

“But you still worry about freaking me out. I’m never quite sure if I’m getting the whole story out of you.”

That was good. Blaine could hear disapproval in Kurt’s voice. Kurt would be even more disappointed if he knew Blaine wasn’t doing his best to follow the spirit as well as the letter of Kurt’s orders. It was obvious Kurt meant for him to keep himself close. He sped up again, letting himself enjoy the pleasure that spread from his dick up through his belly and out along his limbs.

“So what did he say?”

“He said that some of it was probably the same things that I like about it – the control and feeling like I own that part of you completely. But I couldn’t understand what a sub gets out of it. I don’t get how it can be hot to not come, if you really do want to come. But Thomas said that wanting to come was the whole point. That you get to the point where you want to want to come more than you actually want to come. Which still doesn’t make a lot of sense to me but I'm trying to understand it.”

Hearing those words made Blaine want to want to come even more. The hand circling his cock sped up a bit and his free hand collected a little extra lube and used it to tease his nipple too, doubling the centers from which pleasure moved through his body. If Kurt needed someone to prove the truth of what Thomas had told him, he was ready to offer up his body in sacrifice.

“So what do you think? Is that what does it for you?” Kurt asked.

“He’s right,” Blaine managed to say around more and more shallow gasps of breath. “To need it like that . . . it’s amazing. Sometimes I feel like I can just float away on it. And I may beg or even cry but really all I want is for you to keep going and never stop.”

“But you still want to come though, right?”

“God, yes.”

“And that’s the part I’ll never really understand.”

“That’s okay. As long as it turns you on. I’d wait forever if it turned you on enough to make me.”

There was a sound, low and deep from the back of Kurt’s throat, and when he spoke again there was an odd rhythm to his words that made Blaine suspect he was stroking himself as he talked. Blaine’s own body was rocketing closer to the edge; he could feel his orgasm starting to build, not close enough to need to slow down yet but there, waiting just out of reach, tantalizing him.

“He said some other things, too,” Kurt said.

“Like what?”

“He told me how important the teasing is. He said I have to get over the idea that I’m being mean to you and just keep on trying to drive you crazy.”

“Mmmm.” Blaine was beyond words now; a long whining hum was the closest he could come. Kurt’s words were a fantasy come to life and his entire body was tense, straining toward the release he teased himself with. His hips pumped up, fucking his fist, and all he wanted was more, enough endurance to keep pushing himself this way while Kurt made all his fantasies come true.

“And he said you’d probably like it even more if I made it more unfair.”

Suddenly, almost without warning Blaine was too close and his hand froze and tightened around his cock just for a moment, trying control himself even as his hips continued to pump in search of satisfaction. He could hardly breathe in the face of what Kurt had said.

“What do you mean?” he managed to gasp.

“Unfair. Or maybe the word he used was . . . capricious? Like, if I say you can come but change my mind at the last minute just because I want to. Or if I give you permission in some way that makes it almost impossible for you to actually come just so I can watch you struggle for it and punish you when you don’t make it. He said it would make you feel like . . . like your pleasure doesn’t matter at all. Like you only exist to serve your dom’s desire. I think that’s what he said.”

"Oh, God, I need to let go, Kurt. I'm going to . . ."

"Do it, take your hand away."

Blaine fisted the blanket and rode out the waves of pleasure, his cock pulsing and leaking against his belly, Kurt's voice in his ears not helping in the slightest.

"So I guess he was right about that unfair thing?"

Blaine nodded before he remembered that Kurt couldn’t see him. "He was so right. When you say that . . . I really don't think I can keep going, Kurt. If I touch myself again I'm going to come.”

Kurt was only silent for a moment. “Okay, then it’s my turn now. Tell me about it. Tell me how badly you want it.”

It might have only been his overactive imagination, but Blaine could swear he heard the squelch of lube sliding over skin. “I do want to come right now,” he said. “But there’s so much that I want more than that.”

“Tell me,” Kurt’s voice was breathy now and the squelch was definitely not his imagination.

“It’s hard, to be this close and have to wait, when everything you’re saying – I think I could come just from listening to your voice, Kurt. But it’s even harder being here, when you’re there, doing what you’re doing, and God, I want it to be me so badly. I want it to be my hand on you, and my mouth. I need to smell you and taste you and feel you, you can’t even imagine how much I need it.” He could hear Kurt’s hand moving faster and his breath speeding up, and at least he had that. At least if he couldn’t use his body he could make Kurt come with his words. “It’s killing me, knowing you’re about to come and I don’t get to be there to see it and taste it, I’m going to lay in bed tonight so, so hard, knowing that it happened and all I could do was lie here and listen . . .I’m so greedy, I know, and I shouldn’t be but I just want every one of your orgasms all to myself.”

Then Kurt whispered Blaine’s name, so quietly that he almost missed it, and God it hurt, it hurt worse than his balls ever could have, to only be able to imagine Kurt’s body shuddering with pleasure, his come pulsing out onto his naked belly, head thrown back and arms and legs stretched tense across his bed.

There was a long stretch of silence as Kurt came down from his orgasm, and when he spoke again the careful dominance was gone from his voice and he was just the not-quite-as-horny teenager again.

“Oh my God, Blaine, that was incredible. And for the record, I wish you were here too.”

“I meant it, you know. It really does hurt me to know you’re coming without me.” Blaine tried to keep the pout out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

“Well, less than twenty-four hours and I’ll be coming with you. And if you’re lucky I’ll let you come too. Or not. I have some big plans for us this weekend.”

Blaine groaned. “It’s so not fair of you to say that when I have to try to actually get some sleep tonight.”

“Well, that’s the new, unfair me. And now I know you love it.”

“But not as much as I love you.”

Kurt hummed a little in response, and then with a quiet “Goodnight Blaine,” he was gone, the line went silent, and Blaine pulled the headphones out of his ears.

And in spite of himself and his needy dick, he did sleep, the sound of Kurt’s whispered “Blaine” at the moment of his orgasm repeating in his ears and spiraling out, as sleep took him, to wrap tightly around his body and keep him safe.