Creak-creak-creak-creak …

“Oh God, Kurt!” Blaine moans, crunching his abs to bring his ass up, and spreading his legs to open himself up wider. “Oh God, yes!”

“You like that, baby? Huh?” Kurt grins. He knows Blaine does. Blaine’s a slut for a good, hard pounding.

“Yes …” Blaine swallows, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid getting sweat in them. “Harder, Kurt! Harder, please!”

“Say the magic words,” Kurt sings, slowing down purposefully to get what he wants.

Blaine’s lips tighten into a line. Kurt’s going to kill his buzz with this bullshit. Blaine could refuse, but then Kurt would stop. He would literally pull the fuck out and walk away. Blaine doesn’t want to say it, but he’s too deep into this fucking to turn back, not with his cock throbbing like it’s ready to explode.

“Please, Master,” Blaine says, trying not to grind his teeth. Kurt hates it when Blaine grinds teeth.

“Please … Master … what?” Kurt asks, frustrated that Blaine’s forcing him to slow down more by being so damned stubborn.

“Please, Master,” Blaine says, struggling to be a good boy and say the right words, “fuck your piggy. Fuck your piggy, Master. Make me squeal.”

“And you’ll do anything?” Kurt slows down even further, using long, purposeful thrusts to help Blaine remember how to beg properly.

“Yes.” Blaine’s jaw drops lower and lower when every one of Kurt’s thrusts ghosts over his prostate. “Yes, I’ll … I’ll do anything.”

“You’ll pay anything?” Kurt asks.

“Yes!” Blaine whines at the agony of his engorged cock threatening to simmer without its promised orgasm. “I’ll pay anything! Just … ungh! Please!”

Kurt grabs Blaine’s legs and lifts them, one over each of his shoulders, and drives inside his body.

Creak-creak-creak-creak-critch …

“You will pay, little piggy,” Kurt teases, flipping his damp, crayon-red bangs out of his face. “Whatever I want. You’ll pay it.”

“Oh God!” Blaine gasps, putting Kurt’s inane demands behind him and enjoying the ride. “Y-yeah … j-just like that, Master. Just like that ...” Blaine holds still and lets Kurt take control – not that Kurt didn’t have it to begin with, especially with Blaine’s wrists cuffed to the bed. But Kurt’s like a machine. It humbles Blaine that, at barely ten years older than his twenty-two-year-old Dominant, he can’t keep up. But then the torment wouldn’t be as deliciously painful as it is if Blaine could. “D-don’t stop! God, don’t stop!”

Creak-creak-creak-creak-snick …

“Jesus, Blaine!” Kurt groans, running his nails up Blaine’s thighs. “You’re so tight. You’re so … Oh, God … I’m cum … cumming … I’m …”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes …” Blaine chants, back arching, wrists rolling.

Creak-creak-creak-creak-snap …

“Master, I’m …”

“Yeah … God … so am I …”

Creak-creak-creak-creak-CRASH!

Kurt and Blaine cum just as the entire world seems to drop down and to the left at a 45 degree angle.

“What the … what the fuck!?” A breathless Kurt shudders, kneeling up and looking around. “Am I blacking out?”

“I don’t think so,” Blaine pants. “Unless I’m blacking out, too.”

Kurt crawls down the bed. With Kurt’s body gone, Blaine feels himself sliding down the satin sheets. That’s when it hits him.

"You … you broke the bed, Kurt!” Blaine laughs. “You broke the damn bed! I’ve had this bed since before high school! It went to NYU with me! I’ve owned it longer than you’ve been alive!”

“Really?” Kurt climbs carefully off the one steady side of the busted bed. “With all your fronting over the amount of trim you got through college, I’m amazed it took this long to snap.”

“Well, most of my partners just lie back and take it,” Blaine explains. “You’re the most violent fuck I’ve ever had!”

“Nice.” Kurt removes the condom from his rapidly softening cock, spurred to flaccidity by this conversation. “Well, come on, Mr. Broadway Star! Buy another one! And make it snappy!! I’m hoping for a round two in about an hour," Kurt scolds, tossing Blaine’s jeans in his face.

“I can’t,” Blaine grumbles through the denim covering his mouth.

“Why in hell not? Serving me is all you’re scheduled to do today, and I want a new bed! Hurry up! Chippity-chop-chop, Blaine!”

“I can’t …” Blaine whips his head back and forth to get the jeans off his face "… because you didn't un-cuff me yet!”

Kurt, who’d been slipping on his own jeans, stops mid-zip, his lips dropping into a small ‘o’. “Oh.” He chuckles. “My bad.” He looks at Blaine, wrists cuffed to the bars of the headboard, pulling with the weight of his body sliding down. “I forgot.” He retrieves the little silver key from the dresser and reaches over to undo the cuffs around Blaine’s wrists … then stops. Blaine, watching impatiently, frowns. Confused by Kurt’s reluctance, he shakes his right wrist, eager to be free of the cuffs digging into his skin.

“Come on, Kurt,” he says. “Make with the un-cuffing. I think my hands are falling asleep.”

Kurt slips the key into his pocket and puts his hands on his hips, re-evaluating Blaine and his situation.

“Hey, you know,” Kurt says, as if a sudden and previously un-pondered thought has just popped into his head. Actually, Kurt’s been thinking about it for a while now, storing it away amongst his arsenal of scenes for the right time. “I’m cleared to use your AmEx card, aren’t I? The one with no spending limit?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, too quickly and without thinking. “Wh---?”

Kurt’s smile, all mock-innocence and Oh, I’m just asking, becomes dark and devious.

“You know, I’ve never been really kosher with a lot of the furniture in this room, to tell you the truth.”

“Kurt …” Blaine jiggles his cuffs as Kurt grabs the jeans that have slid down Blaine’s torso and starts searching the pockets.

“And these sheets …” Kurt toes them with his foot and makes a disapproving noise. “They’ve got to be at least as old as the bed. Tragic.”

“Kurt? What are you …?”

“Also, there’s a pair of shoes down at Bergdorf’s I’ve had my eye on,” Kurt continues, finding Blaine’s wallet with a triumphant a-ha! in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for them to go on sale, but if I have your card, it doesn’t matter if they’re on sale or not.”

“Kurt!” Blaine yanks on the cuffs, testing to see if there’s any way he can snap them, or the bar they’re hooked on. If he and Kurt could level the whole bed fucking, then there’s a chance the frame is weak all over. This has to be, what, the hundredth time Kurt’s cuffed him to it? Blaine puts all his strength behind one long pull, groaning with the effort.

But it doesn’t work. Not even close.

“So I’m just going to take this.” Kurt slides the platinum AmEx card out of Blaine’s wallet, along with a healthy handful of hundreds, and throws the rest to the floor. Blaine’s eyes blow wide when he sees the stash of cash Kurt shoves into his pocket.

“Kurt! You little brat!” Blaine growls, tugging futilely at the silver cuffs with numb wrists. “I swear to God! If you …”

“If I what?” That question, and the swing of Kurt’s hips as he walks, shuts Blaine up. Blaine knows that walk. It means that Kurt is unamused. Kurt sashays up to the broken bed. He kneels carefully on the skewed mattress, staying nimbly out of kicking range as he leans over Blaine’s helpless body.

“Now, now, little piggy. Just sit tight,” Kurt whispers, lips brushing the perimeter of Blaine’s mouth with the suggestion of kisses. “While I’m out, I’m gonna buy something small and tight to wear …” He moves closer, bites gently on Blaine’s lower lip. “Something edible.” He swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth. “And if you’re a good boy and stay nice and quiet while I’m gone, then you can tie me to the bed … and have a snack.”

Blaine doesn’t exactly kiss Kurt back when Kurt’s mouth starts claiming his, too occupied with the image of Kurt bound to a brand new bed, naked except for an expensive pair of shoes and some kind of edible undergarment, entirely at Blaine’s mercy.

“Stay safe and have fun,” Blaine says, shooing Kurt away with a gesture of his head. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”