Blaine drew the bow over the strings, his eyes closed as he stood beside the piano in his music room coaxing a plaintive melody from his beloved old violin. He didn’t play it often anymore; the piano was better suited to the composing that filled his days and the singalongs that were as likely as not to fill evenings with Kurt and their friends. But tonight he was feeling melancholy, and the instrument had called to him. The moonlight streaming in through the window had been sufficient to prepare it to play so he hadn’t bothered turning on the lights. The semi-darkness better matched his mood anyway.
He startled when he sensed brightness through his lids, blinking his eyes open to find Kurt standing in the doorway.
“Kurt, I thought you were asleep…”
“I was asleep. It’s two in the morning, Blaine. What are you doing playing at this hour? And why didn’t you close the door?”
The music room was soundproofed. If Blaine had shut the door he wouldn’t have woken Kurt. But he hadn’t stopped to think about it and hadn’t even been truly conscious of his oversight. He couldn’t sleep and he just wanted to play.
“I’m sorry, Kurt. I didn’t even realize. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“And yet…”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Blaine said with downcast eyes, hoping the honorific would help convey his sincere regret.
“Mmm, I know you are. But still, you were careless in leaving the door open. You know I value my sleep. But now that I’m awake, I think you might need a reminder.”
Blaine swallowed in anticipation as Kurt walked towards him.
“Your bow, please,” he demanded.
Blaine passed it to him.
Kurt touched the tip to Blaine’s thigh and traced a line up his torso to his chin, tipping it up so Blaine’s eyes met his.
“Put down the violin.”
Blaine placed it gently on top of the piano and looked back at Kurt for his next instruction.
“Pants.”
Blaine didn’t have to ask to know what Kurt meant. He quickly slipped out of his pajama pants and laid those on top of the piano as well.
“Present yourself, please,” Kurt ordered. “Hands here.” He touched the bow to the curve of the piano.
Blaine easily assumed the posture Kurt had commanded, bracing his hands against the instrument, spreading his legs, and leaning over to expose his bare ass for punishment. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and waited.
Again he felt the tip of the bow gliding up his thigh, on the back this time, and his anticipation grew. It teased over his balls, traced the cleft of his ass, and finally came to rest against the small of his back.
Blaine waited for the strike he knew was coming, and when he felt the bow raise off his skin, he was ready for its descent and didn’t shrink away. If anything he thrust his ass imperceptibly towards the coming blow, eager to accept it.
Kurt snapped the bow swiftly, landing it across the swell of Blaine’s ass.
“That’s one,” he said, lifting the bow again. “You can count the rest.”
“Yes, sir,” Blaine said, followed rapidly by “Two” as he felt the sting of the bow once more.
Kurt meted out eight more strikes, pausing intermittently to caress Blaine’s pinkening skin between blows. Blaine had certainly been spanked with more severe instruments, and the warmth and sting of the impact combined with the softness of Kurt’s touch left him more aroused than ashamed. It was punishment, yes, but they both knew that wasn’t all it was.
“Turn around and let me see you,” Kurt said when he was done.
Blaine turned to face him, his cock standing upright and grazing the hem of the tee shirt he still wore. Kurt ran the bow up his cock from base to tip.
“I can see that you liked that. Perhaps you need another reminder that this was a punishment?”
“No, Kurt,” Blaine shook his head, but his cock pulsed at the implication, the fluid that had been beading at the tip leaking over the crown and dripping down his shaft. Kurt had struck his cock before, but it wasn’t a common occurrence and the thrill was tinged with fear of the pain he wasn’t quite as accustomed to.
“You know your safewords, Blaine, so until I hear one this pretty cock is mine to do with as I please.” He stroked the bow gently over Blaine’s cock as if he were playing it.
Blaine whimpered at the touch. He was scared, yes, but fuck he wanted this. His eyes were full of desire and trust as he swallowed down the fear and spoke. “Andare,” he said, the affirmative safeword leaving no room to doubt that Kurt doing as he pleased was exactly what he wanted.
Kurt gave him an approving smile. “Three more then, to help you remember.”
Blaine nodded and adjusted his stance, his legs braced wide to steady him, his shoulders back and hands clasped behind him, giving Kurt clear access to his rigid dick.
Blaine flinched instinctively when the first strike landed low on his shaft, but immediately straightened himself up to accept the next, which fell across his cockhead in short order. “Kurt…” he gasped out.
“One more, love. You can take it. I know you can.” The pride in Kurt’s voice was all the reassurance Blaine needed to endure the final lash. When he was done Kurt set the bow on top of the piano beside the violin and immediately took Blaine in his arms, soothing him.
“You were so good, sweetheart, so good for me.” He wrapped a hand gently around Blaine’s stinging cock, swiping over his slit with his thumb and rubbing slick circles over the crown. Blaine rested his head against Kurt’s shoulder and gave himself over to the sensation, tears of relief beginning to pool at the corners of his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispered, responding to both the praise and the punishment. He knew Kurt would understand what the two simple words encompassed without having to elaborate.
“Let’s get you back to bed, okay?”
Blaine nodded his head in agreement and let Kurt lead him back to their room where he stripped off Blaine’s tee shirt and settled him into bed before slipping out of his own pajamas and spooning up behind him. Kurt wrapped an arm protectively around Blaine’s chest and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.
“I really didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I know, but I think your subconscious might have. Maybe that’s why you left the door open. It’s ok to need me you know.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. Just hold me. And maybe…” Blaine was drowsy now, but not too tired to press back against Kurt whose hard length nestled between his still-warm cheeks.
“Okay.” Kurt reached across Blaine to grab the lube from the nightstand. He pulled back just enough to slick himself, then slotted back against Blaine. He added a bit more lube to his hand and encircled Blaine’s cock, which had flagged some but responded immediately to Kurt’s touch. He found a gentle rhythm, rocking against Blaine and stroking him, peppering his shoulders with soft kisses. Blaine once again surrendered his body to Kurt, letting the lazy sensations lull him into a state of peaceful comfort somewhere between awake and asleep. He felt the warmth of Kurt’s release against his back and floated through his own orgasm, safe and content in the cocoon of Kurt’s love. In that moment nothing else mattered and he drifted off to sleep in Kurt’s arms.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Finally finished this one off!!
A direct continuation of the weekend begun in Holding On, Letting Go and Breakfast. Not strictly necessary to have read those first. Kurt is following through on his promise to both keep Blaine naked for the weekend and find ways to generate extra laundry in response to his sass:
“Keep up that sass and we’ll see whether I let you get dressed again this weekend,” Kurt teased.
Blaine just shrugged. “Less laundry for me,” he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously. He’d gladly stay naked for as long as it pleased Kurt.
Blaine’s playfulness might be taken for insolence by some Doms, but Kurt wouldn’t have him any other way. He shook his head and laughed. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he said, taking Blaine’s words as a challenge. He was sure he could come up with some ways to generate extra laundry that didn’t involve Blaine wearing clothes. He was going to have fun proving Blaine wrong…
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rated E
Summary: When Blaine gets too overwhelmed by the world, Kurt helps him make it all go away for a while.
Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and I'm not sure why I didn't post it sooner, because I really didn't make any changes before posting it now. This is set in October 2020, amidst the stress of the Covid pandemic and the then upcoming US election.
Blaine tossed his phone aside, heaving a resigned sigh and trying unsuccessfully to rub the tension from his forehead. Some days, the world was just too much. Every headline seemed worse than the last, and they came at such an unrelenting pace that he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed. How could he just continue on with life’s mundane tasks - doing the laundry, getting groceries, working every day - when everything seemed to be falling apart around them? Sometimes he just wanted a reprieve from being a functioning adult member of society.
He knew he was moments away from dissolving into uncontrollable tears. He had two choices. He could break down or he could go find Kurt and ask his Dom to help him. He knew which Kurt would want him to do, so he heaved himself off the couch despite the heaviness that made him want to sink right back down into it.
“Kurt, sir?” he said quietly as he entered the bedroom where Kurt had set up a makeshift workspace in the corner. He didn’t want to interrupt, but he knew he needed Kurt.
The “sir” caught Kurt’s attention. It wasn’t his husband who had come looking for him, it was his sub.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked, taking in the weariness in Blaine’s eyes and posture as he stood in the doorway.
“It’s just… it’s all so much, sir, I…” He shrugged, not knowing how to go on. Part of him felt guilty for feeling this way at all, given the relative privilege they enjoyed. They had their health (as did their families). They’d been able to work some from home and could still afford the home they worked from. If things got tight, there was always Blaine’s trust fund to fall back on. What right did he have to be upset? “I need you to make the real world go away for a while. I need to not think about it all. I need to just be yours. I know how to do that.” He couldn’t help the tears that spilled from his eyes as he spoke.
By the time he finished Kurt had crossed the room and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Shh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You are mine, and I’m going to take care of you.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Blaine listened as their party guests began to arrive, trying to make out voices from his spot in the corner as Kurt welcomed them at the door. He was blindfolded and lashed to his Christmas gift from Kurt: a wide A-frame bondage ladder, barely taller than himself. His wrists were bound to the polished wooden frame beside his head with festive red rope. His ankles were fastened with the same rope just above the bottom rung of the ladder, his heels barely catching its edge. Most of his weight was supported by the ropes and the other rungs behind his legs and back. His ass however remained beautifully exposed between them. Mistletoe hung from the bit gag between his teeth. Just before the guests had been scheduled to arrive Kurt had teased him into a state of arousal. His nipples were stiffly pebbled, his cock stood erect against his abs, and his balls hung low between his spread thighs, adorned with a simple silver ring.
As their guests entered, Kurt invited them to help keep Blaine in that state all evening.
Just being on display might have been enough for Blaine by itself, but the guests were only too happy to comply with Kurt’s request. All night Blaine felt his nipples being pinched, or a tongue dragging up his cock, or a mouth wrapped around his testicles.
What Blaine didn’t know (but their guests did) was that after the blindfold had been secured, Kurt had set up a video camera.
After the last of the guests had gone, Kurt removed Blaine’s gag, blindfold, and bindings, and helped him down from the ladder and over to the couch.
“You did beautifully, love, so perfect for me,” Kurt praised.
Blaine smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“I have a surprise for you.” Kurt clicked on the tv and Blaine gasped when saw himself on the screen.
“Kurt…”
“I want you to see how good you were. And I want you to touch yourself while you watch. Do whatever you want, but don’t come unless I say you can.”
Blaine watched as Santana walked past and flicked a red fingernail nonchalantly against his nipple. He watched as Elliott took his whole cock easily into his mouth, and as Mike swirled his tongue around a nipple while Tina sucked at his balls. All the while he stroked over his cock. He was so close to the edge he had to keep his grip loose and his rhythm slow. He was conscious of Kurt watching him though, and he tried to make it good for them both.
On screen Nick and Jeff made out beneath Blaine’s mistletoe. Then they turned to Blaine, Jeff stroking his cock while Nick suckled at the head. “Damn,” Blaine muttered. Experiencing the sensations had been one thing. Watching his friends take pleasure in his body and knowing who had administered each touch spiked his arousal in an entirely different way.
The video continued playing but Blaine had to look away, throwing his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes, and breathing deeply to fend off the orgasm he wasn’t allowed to have. When he collected himself and refocused his attention, Kurt was on the screen. Blaine braced himself for what he was almost certain was coming. There had been a narrow paddle hung from the ladder and he remembered the feeling of it striking his ass several times while he was restrained there. Once, someone had gently fondled his balls and followed up with a swift swat that left him wincing and panting. He’d rightly imagined that one was Kurt and moaned when he saw it confirmed on the video.
“You like watching yourself don’t you?”
Blaine couldn’t deny it. “I like watching what you do to me most.”
“Slut.” The word rolled off Kurt’s tongue like an endearment.
“Only for you, sir.” He owned every kink and desire when it came to Kurt. He knew he had nothing to be ashamed of.
“In that case, come for me.” Kurt had stripped off his own clothes and reclined with his head against the arm of the couch. He guided Blaine up to kneel between his legs and wrapped a hand around his own cock as Blaine tugged at himself with greater intention.
“God yes,'' Blaine cried as ropes of come spilled over Kurt's chest. “Thank you…” he panted, catching himself with his clean hand on the back of the couch to keep from collapsing onto Kurt.
As soon as he finished, Kurt grabbed his hand and transferred it to his own cock. “My turn,” he commanded and Blaine stroked him until he too was spurting across his torso.
“Fuck yes, you’re so good, so good for me,” Kurt said as he came. “God look at this mess though.”
Blaine did and licked his lips.
“You want to taste it, don’t you?”
“So much sir, please…”
Kurt looked from Blaine’s eager eyes down to his own chest and back again, considering. “Go ahead and clean me up then. I think you’ve earned it tonight,” he granted with a smile.
“Thank you, sir,” Blaine said. He lapped at Kurt’s softening cock first, relishing the taste of him. He alternated long, hungry drags of his tongue up the length of Kurt’s torso through the mess they’d both left with more focused attention on licking clean smaller sections of his skin, until not a trace of evidence remained.
When he was done he sat up again between Kurt’s legs, and Kurt ran a finger down his stomach. “Have you had your fill now?”
“Only if you have, sir,” Blaine answered honestly. If Kurt wanted to get off again, Blaine was more than happy to be of service.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Kurt and Blaine have a dinner party, and Blaine has a request of his Dom.
Kurt sat at the dining table, cookbooks spread out in front of him, flipping through their pages as he planned the menu for the dinner party he and Blaine would be hosting the following weekend. He'd occasionally jot down an idea or add an item to the grocery list on the pad of paper next to him.
"How's the menu coming along?" Blaine asked as he joined him at the table. This was definitely Kurt's area of expertise. He'd leave the decisions up to him, and provide whatever help Kurt requested with the shopping and preparations.
"Great. I think it's almost all set," Kurt replied.
"Good," Blaine said, and then paused. There was something he wanted to bring up with Kurt. He just needed to gather his courage to ask. "I was thinking..." he began, and then stopped again.
Kurt looked up at him. "Thinking what, love? Did you have a suggestion for the party?"
Blaine let out a soft chuckle and bit his lip. He did, but he knew it wouldn't be the kind of suggestion Kurt was probably thinking of.
"I... yes, actually. Or, more of a request, I guess..."
"Well, what is it?"
"I was hoping you might let me... serve?" He knew he wasn't being as clear as he could be. He needed Kurt’s inevitable follow up to help prod him through it, because even though it was something he wanted, he was feeling shy about bringing it up.
Kurt just looked at him quizzically. Blaine serving at the party was a given. "That kind of goes without saying, Blaine."
"I know it does, sir, of course it does, but I was thinking more along the lines of...of...not just serving the food, but... being what it’s served on?"
