Archive of Our Own ^beta

The second Grian steps on to the tour bus, she knows she’s in trouble.

The bus is aflutter with friendly chatter, warm remarks and laughs thrown across the room. Everyone pitched in a bit here and there on load out, and it’s apparent in their appearance. There’s a tired tinge to the atmosphere, a faint sheen of sweat glimmering off of nearly everyone as they settle in for the midnight ride to the next city. Some have already begun to wrap arms around other’s waists, heads fallen to rest on shoulders. It’s a lazy comfortableness that comes from long weeks spent together in close proximity.

And there stands Scar, leaned against the doorframe that leads to the bunks and back bedroom, arms crossed and shoulders set. He’s far from the warm comfort in the rest of the room, his attitude a cold spot that Grian can feel tugging his chest towards him.

“And where were you after the show, trouble?” Cleo calls from the couch, Bdubs curled up in her lap.

“Oh you know me, just making connections. You meet so many great people on tour, Cleo.”

“Mm hm, I’m sure,” she says, petting Bdubs’ hair. “Pronouns for today, love?”

Grian hums. “He or she. I’m not picky.”

“We can do that. Now, what about these connections of yours?”

“Yeah, you should tell us all about it, G,” Ren says with a toothy grin. He’s standing at their little kitchenette, cutlery strewn about as he makes snacks for his fellow crewmates.

It was a miracle they were able to get a tour bus for this leg of the journey. For the next few shows, they would have the luxury of staying in one place. No vans, no dingy motels, just each other's company. It’s enough time to be comfortable and to make it feel something like home. Grian wishes they could be this close together all the time.

The rest of the crew had insisted that she and Scar share the small bedroom at the back of the bus. The implication that they would get up to mischief went unsaid, only spoken of in knowing glances and smiles hidden behind hands. 

Grian takes a seat on the couch next to Cleo, throwing his arms over the backrest and crossing his legs at the ankles. He sighs and finally, knowing what’s about to come, looks at Scar. He still hasn’t said a word, standing with his arms crossed, but now he has a furrow to his brow that shoots a spike of fear down to Grian’s stomach.

“Grian,” he says, voice flat, “come here.”

Grian starts to stand, but stops. He weighs his choices for a moment instead. How he responds to Scar’s first command will set the tone for the night. He can be obedient and have a night of being pleasantly led along or he can dig his heels in and fight. He chews on his bottom lip, glances back at his friends, and makes a decision.

He smiles sweetly and bats his eyelashes, the picture of sly innocence. “Aw but Scar, it’s so nice out here. You should really sit down and take a load off. Relax.”

Cleo slings an arm around his waist and Bdubs scrambles up out of her lap to sit on his other side. Bdubs sits on his knees, arms draped over Grian’s shoulders as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah Scar! You should join the party,” Bdubs says, “Etho and Impulse said they might even join in tonight.”

Grian can see the hesitation in Scar’s eyes, but soon it's gone and he’s focusing back on Grian. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, pet. Bedroom, now. ”

Bdubs lets out a laugh and gives Grian a kiss on the cheek before pushing him away. “Oooh, you’re in trouble now, G.”

He looks back to Scar and Grian feels that defiant little voice inside him puff up. “No.”

Scar raises an eyebrow as he finally leaves his spot by the door. He looms over Grian and considers her for a moment, eyes raking her up and down before he grabs Grian by the wrist and yanks her up. “Are you sure about that?”

“Pretty fucking sure, sir,” he says, the last word spit out with vitriol despite the respect is suggested.

Scar narrows his gaze and twists Grian’s arm behind him and pushes him forward in the direction of the bedroom. Grian lets out a string of curses as Bdubs laughs behind him.

“Alright fine, fine! I’m going, alright.” He twists his way out of Scar’s grip and walks the rest of the way to the bedroom, Scar right on his heels. When the door slides shut behind them, Scar cages him in against the wall and kisses him deeply, nipping at his lip as he pulls away.

“Where were you?” Scar growls.

“None of your business,” Grian snaps back.

A hand, rough with calluses, grabs her by the jaw and forces her head back against the wall. Grian grabs Scar’s wrist, trying to shove him off, but Scar’s grasp remains firm.

“Don’t I give you enough? Or do you just act like a whore to get my attention? Make me jealous?” He loosens his grip, running a thumb over Grian’s bottom lip.

Grian scoffs, working free from Scar’s grip on his chin, “The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Scar.”

His gaze hardens and he catches Grian’s hands before pinning them over his head. Grian thrashes once, twice, shoulder bashing into the wall with a loud thump before Scar bars an arm across his chest and leans in close. “So what was their name?

“Fuck you.”

Scar smacks him with no warning, and it shoots something hot and buzzing through Grian. Yes, here we go.

“I’ll ask again, what was their name, pet?”

“Mumbo,” he spits out, “his name was Mumbo.”

Scar leans in close, seemingly uncaring of Grian’s attitude. His lips brush against his ear. “And what did you do with this Mumbo, hm?”

“Choked him on my cock, sir,” he says, “Fucked him afterwards.”

“Naughty. Haven’t I told you to ask for permission before playing with others?”

Grian wrestles against the hands holding his wrists together again, twisting and pulling. He finally stops, breaths quickened with exertion and arousal. “I don’t recall, sir.”

“Hm, don’t you now. Well, I’ll need all the details anyway. I’ll need to punish you for this little outburst of yours.”

Grian sighs, giving in. She knows where this is going and it sends butterflies aflutter in her stomach. She tries to tamp them down, intent on keeping up the little disobedient act she has going. “Called him names, had him keep his hands behind his back, simple things. Smacked him around a little bit for misbehaving, he seemed to really like that. And-”

“And what, Grian?”

He pauses. He knows this game that Scar’s playing, and he hesitates to give Scar another inch of rope to work with. Scar squeezes his wrists again and Grian crumbles.

“I put him in a cock ring, sir.”

There’s a dangerous twinkle in Scar’s eye and Grian feels himself shiver. “So it was that kind of playdate. Well, since you had so much fun without me, we’ll just have to make up for it now.” He releases him and Grian sags against the wall. “On the bed, pet.”

That defiant little voice puffs up again and Grian lets it. “Make me.”

Scar leans in close, a sharp smile gracing his lips before he grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to fall backwards onto the bed, pouncing on top of him. “Hands behind his back, hm? Tell me more.”

“I didn’t tie him up if that’s what you’re asking, Scar.”

Harsh fingers dig into the back of his upper thigh in a pinch, pushing up his skirt and revealing his panties. “Want to try again, darling?”

“I didn’t tie him up, sir .”

Scar hums, the sound rumbling through Grian where they’re pressed chest to chest.

“It might do you well to be tied up tonight. You seem wound up, Gri.” His tone has slipped away slightly from his controlling persona and into something more genuine.

Grian takes it for the check-in that it is and nods. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“Wonderful.” He gives Grian a kiss before pushing away and pressing him firmly into the bed. His tone is firm again when he says, “Stay right there. I’m getting the ropes.”

“Or what?” Grian says with a smile.

“Or I’ll give you bruises you won’t be able to hide under that short skirt of yours," he says over his shoulder, "What would the fans think?”

Grian shivers. He’s almost tempted to act out if it would get Scar to leave marks like that. But he wouldn’t, would he? Scar is his manager, surely he wants to do what’s best for the show, right?

She lets herself be pushed back down onto the bed and watches as Scar crouches to dig in his duffle bag. She twists herself around and props her head on a hand as she crosses her ankles.

“Grian,” Scar says in warning.

“What?” she says innocently, “I stayed on the bed.”

“You know perfectly well what I meant. I mean it, I did bring the flogger. The one with the knots on the tails that I know you just love.”

Grian sighs. “You’re a strange man, you know that, Scar?”

Scar turns to look at Grian, an eyebrow raised. “Do you really want to test me, Gri?”

“You're bluffing. You wouldn’t dare leave marks on me where everyone could see.”

Scar smiles. “You forget, pet, that we have five days before the next show. Do you really want to make that bet?”

Grian feels his face heat up slightly. “I- um. Well-”

“Now, how do we feel about a shinju? You always look so pretty in them. Or- ooh, I know! We’ll do a TK.” Scar really looks excited now.

“Fine, sir” Grian grumbles.

“Good! Now sit up, back to me. Let me tie you up, darling.”

Scar hasn’t been doing shibari for long, but with the amount of enthusiasm he puts into it, he’s quickly improving. From their practice sessions, Grian has become familiar with Scar’s repertoire of ties. TK’s, or box ties, were a fairly new addition, but Grian knew it was going to be much worse than just a shinju. With this she wouldn’t be able to move her arms away from her side at all.

Scar undresses Grian efficiently and with purpose, wasting no time and leaving him nude. Grian lets Scar fuss and get him where he wants on the bed, then Grian shakes out his hands and arms before placing them behind his back, gripping them near the elbow. He’s faced towards the headboard, back towards the door, and he suddenly feels more vulnerable than he expected. Turns out having your back exposed to an empty room is uncomfortable, actually.

But before Scar can place any rope on his body, Grian is struck with an idea. He shifts his shoulders, drums his fingers on his arms, and decides in that moment, that yes, he does want to be a problem. But Scar should really be used to that at this point. Grian drops his arms and lets them hang by his side.

Scar hums, and Grian can practically hear the furrow in his brow. He takes Grian’s arms and places them back behind his back. Grian lets them drop again.

“Grian…” Scar says warningly.

Grian smirks and keeps his eyes trained on the pillows at the head of the bed. “Yes, sir?” he asks cheerily.

“I know what you’re doing. Now, make wise choices before you regret it.”

Grian stays put and grins, hiding behind her long hair.

There’s a moment of silence where nothing happens, then suddenly there’s a stinging pain across his shoulder. Grian jumps and leans forward, trying to escape it. Then there’s another strike to his ass, then immediately to the back of his thighs. He sits up, arching away from the impact.

Scar comes around front and grabs her chin, making Grian look him in the eyes. A riding crop hangs by his side, lord knows when he grabbed that from their toy bag. “Don’t you want to be good, Gri? I know you do.”

The problem is, Grian thinks, that the strikes hurt. It seems that Scar isn’t pulling his punches today. Grian reconsiders. Maybe it’s best to play at being good now rather than wearing herself out. There’s no doubt in Grian’s mind that Scar has something big planned. It would be a shame to have to tap out early.

“Yes, sir,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Good boy.” Scar raises his hands back to sit at his lower back and this time Grian decides to stay put. He feels as Scar gently loops the rope around his wrists and begins tying them into a single column. The pressure of it is light, perhaps a bit looser than Scar meant to, and the seed of another idea plants itself into his head. Hm.

After the single column, Scar wraps the rope around her chest, reverses the tension, then wraps again, making a strap. Then he pulls something to the side behind Grian’s back and the whole thing tightens, cinching her hands further up her back. Scar repeats the same thing a little bit further up on her biceps and Grian feels him fumbling with a lock off before he steps back to examine his work. It’s not really a real TK, but Grian can see that Scar is proud of it nonetheless.

Grian takes the moment to take stock of herself. The ropes are still a little loose. If she’s being honest, she could probably get out of these no problem. But maybe she’ll let Scar have his fun for now.

Scar walks around and sits on the bed next to Grian, placing a hand on his arm and slipping a finger under the ropes across his bicep. “Does anything hurt? No pinching?”

Grian shakes his head. “No, nothing. Feels comfy even.”

“Good.” Scar smiles and something in Grian’s chest flutters, despite the bratty headspace he’s worked himself into. He just likes to see Scar happy, is that a crime? Scar continues, “Now, one more thing. I want to make sure we get to see that pretty face of yours. Chin up, I’m going to tie your hair back.

Scar grabs a short coil of rope off the bed and positions himself behind Grian. Grian can feel his body heat with how close he is. Then there are hands in his hair, gathering it into a ponytail and slipping a knot around it to hold it in place. Grian can’t see exactly what Scar does, but there’s a slight shift of rope, then it’s tightening and pulling his hair almost taut against his head. It loosens somewhat soon after, but there’s still a light pressure there. There’s another small tug of rope as Scar ties something else, and then he’s stepping away. The working ends of the hair rope fall forward to tickle his shoulders and Grian nearly giggles. He must have burned some rope by tying it into a bow. Cute.

Scar tugs experimentally on the box tie and it drags Grian’s whole body along with it. It makes Grian feel off balance and he nearly falls forward, though Scar’s grip on him is strong and he remains upright.

Scar picks up where they left off without missing a beat. "Now, what was this about a cock ring, hm?"

Grian shifts and tests the ropes, lets them dig into her skin a bit. "I don't recall. It's been such a long night you know, with the show and-

The smack catches her off guard and leaves her struggling to stay upright on the bed, making her acutely aware of the loss of her hands. Scar steadies her and backs away.

He shrugs and sighs. "If you won't tell me the details, then I'll just have to make them up myself. Is that what you want, pet?"

Grian stays silent, glaring at the bedsheets.

"I see. Let's look through that bag of tricks of yours then."

Scar moves away from the bed and Grian closes his eyes and breathes. There’s a shifting of fabric, the drag of zippers being pulled open. Grian knows that Scar won’t let him get away with just the cock ring, that would be too simple. He might put him in a cock ring, yes, but there has to be something more, something that will make him sorry and promise oh sir, I’ll never do it again, really. It’s just a matter of which manner of kind-cruel punishment Scar plans on putting him through today.

“Now, pet,” Scar says, interrupting Grian’s train of thought, “since you won’t tell me what all you got up to, I’ll just have to make it up myself.”

“I already told you everything. All I did was put him in a cock ring.”

“And smack him around?” Scar says as he moves closer.

“And smack him around.”

“And choke him on your cock?” Scar says with a smile as he leans in close to her face.

“...And choke him on my cock, sir.” Grian says with a sigh.

Scar tuts. “And this is why I can never trust you, darling. You always leave out the details.”

He pushes Grian forward and with the loss of her hands she has no choice but to follow. She’s left ass up, vulnerable, exposed. Scar gives her smack to the back of her thighs and she jumps. He digs his thumb and forefinger into the stinging skin and chuckles.

“Yes, the cockring, a plug, and then- oh, you’ll see. I think I have something very special planned for you tonight, pet.”

Grian shivers and a whine escapes his throat.

There’s a dip in the bed as Scar makes himself comfortable. Hands smooth over Grian’s legs, up his thighs, over the curve of his ass, and around his hips. One hand finally settles, pulling his cheeks apart as something else pushes in and teases at his rim. 

The plug is smooth and unyielding glass. Grian can already tell that it will sit heavy inside him. Scar is slow at first, teasingly pushing in and out, the lube giving just enough slide for a solid push to place it almost all the way inside. Scar fucks him over the widest part of the plug and Grian can’t help but let out a few short pants and whines, almost mewling. The addition of the ropes, of Scar toying with him, suddenly all comes to a head. He’s not on the edge of subspace, not quite, but he thinks he could be with a firmer hand. He lets out a keen as Scar settles the plug inside him and turns him over onto his back.

Before Grian can really process it, Scar slips a cock ring over her dick and leers over her. He goes in for a kiss, and it’s something mean and rough and biting. “Perfect,” he purrs against her lips, “now you’re starting to get it, staying right where I put you.”

Something hot and defiant flares up in Grian’s chest and she struggles against the ropes once more. There’s a tug on Grian’s hair and a different kind of heat jolts through him. 

“What did I just say, pet? And you were doing so well.”

Grian struggles and shifts and suddenly the plug is pushing against his prostate. He lets out an unexpected moan. Panting, he looks up at Scar who’s watching him with a smirk, the bastard.

“Having fun?” he asks.

“Bite me.”

“Maybe later. For now, since you’re all prepared, I think we should move on to the fun part of the evening, don’t you?”

Grian goes silent, the only thing escaping are harsh breaths as she squirms against the plug. Scar tugs on the rope connected to his hair and pulls up, forcing Grian up to his feet. He cries out and bites out a curse before being slapped on the ass by Scar and ushered forward. He pushes him forward down the short hallway to the main area before forcing him down again. His knees hit the ground hard and he feels rug burn stinging at his skin; the jolt from the impact makes him acutely aware of the plug in his ass.

All around the bus, his friends seem to have made their own fun. Etho, Cleo, and Bdubs have taken over the longer couch stretching across one side of the bus. Bdubs face is buried between Cleo’s legs as Etho grips Bdubs hair tightly and holds him firmly against her. Ren and Doc are forehead to forehead, both breathing heavily as Ren straddles him and grinds down on Doc’s hard cock through his trousers. Impulse is the only one who seems to be keeping himself away from the fray, tucked away in the booth in the corner, whiskey in hand as he watches on with dark eyes. Everyone hardly looks up as he and Scar enter, but Scar clears his throat sharply and quickly gathers their attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, my friends, but I have a little gift for you all.” His voice is bright, the air of a businessman in it. “I thought Grian’s throat here would make a wonderful addition to your evening.” He smiles broadly, too many teeth in it. “If at all you find yourself wanting a hole to fuck this evening, I assure you my pet here can service you. Isn’t that right?” he says with a sharp tug to Grian’s hair.

“Thought you were going to fuck me?” he asks, words trailing off and feeling slightly off in his mouth.

“Oh yes, fuck that whore throat of yours. What did you think you were getting, pet?” He tugs harshly on his hair again and Grian moans. “Now, what do we say?”

There’s a strike of something hot puffing up in Grian’s chest, though the flame is quickly burning out. Between the ropes holding him down and the eyes on him and the hand tugging on his hair, his defiant streak is dwindling. “Thank you,” he says quietly instead. Grian hums as the burn starts to settle into his scalp from Scar’s harsh grip.

Scar pets him and settles his hand towards the back of his head. “Good boy.”

Impulse swirls his drink and leans back in his seat as he eyes Grian up and down. “Doesn’t he have to sing? Should we be careful with his throat?” Impulse asks.

“Nonsense! The next show isn’t for five days,” Scar says. He smiles, full of teeth and something sharp at the corners. “Please, have all the fun you want with him. You can fuck his throat but fucking him or pleasuring him otherwise is strictly prohibited. Any takers?”

Bdubs moans from between Cleo’s thighs and shoots up a hand.

A sound akin to a growl rumbles in Etho’s chest and he pulls Bdubs back from Cleo, smacking him quickly. His face is wet, hair a mess as his eyes dart between Grian and Etho. “You’ll be told when to stop, slut.” He pushes Bdubs back down as Cleo laughs and wraps her hands in Bdubs’ hair.

“Etho, let him have his fun,” she says, cool and collected despite still having Bdubs lapping at her cunt. “He’s done so well for us tonight. He deserves a treat.” She smiles. “Let the boy get his dick sucked,” Cleo says as she releases Bdubs and pushes him away with a foot to his chest.

That seems to shake the stunned look from Bdubs face. “Aw, yes!” He crawls forward on his knees towards Grian and throws his arms around her shoulders, leaning in and kissing her without warning.

Everyone in the room chuckles as Etho hums, eyebrows knit but expression hidden behind his mask. Cleo leans forward to grab Etho’s hand, pulling him down next to her on the couch and running her fingers up and down his clothed chest. Her own top was lost long ago, her breasts fully on display and nipples hard. “You can take care of me, can’t you Etho?” she says with hooded eyes, “With those long pretty fingers of yours?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Etho says. She kisses him on the cheek and leans back, making herself comfortable on the couch.

Meanwhile, Bdubs pulls back from the beginnings of a make out session he’s found himself in with Grian and starts to slide up his body to stand. Grian pants when he pulls away, pressing his forehead into Bdubs’ thigh. Scar tugs on his ponytail and pulls him back to sit up straight. Bdubs wastes no time and presses himself forward, forcing Grian to open his mouth and take him in.

He doesn’t have the longest cock, but what he does have has girth to it. It just bumps up the back of Grian’s throat when he thrusts all the way in. It’s a nice warm up for the rest of the evening, honestly. Scar remains at his back, hair held tightly in his hand, dark presence looming just over his shoulder. He occasionally pets his hair as Bdubs fucks Grian’s mouth slowly, then faster, then faster again.

Just when Grian has started to get into a rhythm, the cock ring suddenly springs to life and starts to vibrate, making Grian jerk in surprise and nearly choke around Bdubs’ cock. Fuck, the thing has a remote? Scar is gonna have a field day with that one. The ring doesn’t stay on for long, just long enough to make Grian start to shake, then it stops just as suddenly as it had started. It leaves him feeling off-kilter and he struggles to find the rhythm he had with the cock in his mouth. Luckily, Bdubs lends him a hand and holds the back of Grian’s head steady so he can fuck into his mouth.

The way Bdbubs fucks Grian’s mouth is sloppy and uneven and harsh, and it doesn’t leave much room for Grian to do anything fancy. It’s clear that Bdubs is already worked up. It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling himself in Grian’s mouth and pulling out. He tosses her backwards into Scar’s waiting hands like she’s nothing.

Scar her hair back and exposes Grian’s throat, holding her by the jaw. “Swallow,” he commands lowly.

Grian squirms in her bonds again but does as he says. He lets go and Grian slumps forward, trying to catch her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, Grian sees Bdubs settle himself at Cleo’s feet again, looking up at her with eager anticipation. She pets him as he rests his head on her thigh, Etho kissing up her neck and leaving what will likely be dark bruises. Cleo wraps a hand in Bdubs’ hair and then-

Scar harshly tugs on her hair again and Grian is forced back up onto shaky knees.

“Pay attention, pet,” Scar says, and turns on the ring on for a brief moment. It’s like a little zap of electricity, and Grian can’t contain the shocked yelp that escapes her.

“Scar, mind sharing your slut with us?” Doc calls from across the room, “I think Ren deserves a reward after being the perfect little cockwarmer.” 

In the time between Bdubs fucking Grian’s mouth and spilling down his throat, Ren has lost all his clothes. He’s settled on Doc’s lap backwards so he faces the room, legs tucked under him close to Doc’s hips. Doc grips his hips harshly, holding him down. Ren breathes deeply, face and chest flushed as he grips his own knees. His cock seems to have been ignored, though it stands proudly, just as flushed as the rest of him. Meanwhile, it looks like Doc hasn’t even fully pulled down his jeans.

“Why of course, dear friend. Where would you like him?”

“In front, on his knees. I’m not interested in any fancy acrobatics.”

“As you wish.” Scar says. Grian can hear his grin.

Scar tugs up on the harness and Grian barely catches her feet under herself. She fumbles, but as soon as she’s caught her balance Scar pushes her forward the few steps it takes to reach the soft couch Doc and Ren are on. He shoves her down to the ground and the impact jolts up her body, once again shifting the plug inside her and making her moan. She feels the bruises on her knees bruise deeper. The thought of the marks this evening is leaving on her is intoxicating and she basks in it for a moment.

Grian sits still for a moment before hands reach out to his head, pulling his mouth down to swallow Ren’s cock. Ren’s hold is harsh, roughly guiding his rhythm and using him, nothing more than a hole to fuck. He’s too blissed out to really care when Ren’s cock bumps against the back of his throat unexpectedly and he almost chokes. All that matters are the hands on his head, the cock in his mouth, the rough rhythm Ren has set. He falls into it and lets himself coast for a while.

Time is starting to become… soupy. She knows there are hands on her head and hair lightly tickling her nose and talking above her, though she can’t make out the words. The rhythm of them is nice though, another thing to get lost in. Grian isn’t sure exactly how much time passes, but it doesn’t feel like too long before Ren is spilling in her mouth. The salty musk overwhelms her senses and she obediently swallows, following a command Scar hasn’t even given yet. Ren pets her hair briefly before Grian is suddenly forced back up onto her feet and dragged away. Her head lolls forward when Scar forces her back down in the center of the room. The sudden ups and downs are jarring and make her feel off-kilter. It makes her brain go a little sideways if she’s being honest. Damn.

“Oh, Impulse,” Scar says, sing-song, “don’t think I don’t see you back there, being so quiet, just watching. You don’t just have to watch, you know. Don’t you want a turn? I’m sure everyone here can attest she’s a good fuck.”

Grian turns his head and blearily looks up at Impulse in the corner of the room. He’s still sitting at their little kitchen table, face hidden behind his drink, head low. But his eyes, the only part of his face that Grian can really make out, are hungry. He looks like a tiger hiding in the bushes, ready to pounce. Grian can’t look away from his gaze; he feels trapped. He shivers in anticipation of whatever it is that Impulse is going to do.

“I’m sure she is,” Impulse says evenly, setting down his drink, “but have you seen her face? She looks halfway to passing out already.”

Shit, does he really look that way?

Impulse runs a finger around the rim of his glass. “You’re all too rough with her.” His tone is almost chastising.

“Well, if you think you don’t want a slut who’s so obviously fucked out, I guess I can just take him back to the bedroom and-”

“No,” Impulse says firmly, breaking his gaze with Grian and looking at Scar. It’s a tone that makes even Scar pause. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Grian can feel Scar practically buffering as he locks eyes with Impulse. It’s almost funny how fast Scar crumbles.

“Well, I, uh-”

“Send the boy over, Scar. You don’t need to sell me on it.” He looks back at Grian. “I want to see how far we can push. He hasn’t even dropped yet, have you, G? I’ll go nice and slow, fill your throat and keep you there. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Scar shakes his head slightly and seems to fall back into his top persona. He grabs Grian by the ponytail and tugs his head back before leaning in close and whispering in his ear, “You like that, baby? Want Impulse to fuck into you slow, take his time and choke you on his cock?”

Grian lets out a broken moan at the thought and nods as best as he can. 

Scar starts to tug on Grian’s hair more insistently to drag Grian back up onto her feet, but before he can Impulse gestures for him to keep her down. Scar lets go of her hair like it’s burned him and Grian’s head lolls forward again. Impulse stands up from the booth and strides the short distance to where Grian sits on his knees. He tilts her head back and holds her cheek, petting her hair gently and almost cooing.

“Scar,” he says suddenly, “get a pillow for his knees. He must be exhausted.”

All at once, it’s like his body remembers how much it aches, how much the bruises have already begun to bloom. Grian almost cries at the words.

“Of-of course. I’ll be right back.”

Scar scurries back to the bedroom without another word. Impulse doesn’t even look at him as he leaves, just keeps looking at Grian. He rubs his thumb over his cheek and Grian’s eyes fall shut as he leans into Impulse’s tender touch. Scar returns soon enough and a pillow is being shoved under Grian’s knees. The relief is immediate.

“That better, sweetheart?”

Grian hums and leans a little further into Impulse’s hand. Impulse hums back and gently removes his hand from Grian’s cheek. Grian trails after it and Impulse chuckles lightly. He places his hands on her shoulders and squeezes them, bringing Grian back to herself. He hadn’t even noticed that he had drifted away. It seems just being in Impulse’s presence is enough to calm him.

“Do you think you’re ready to take my cock?”

Grian looks up at Impulse’s face and preens under his gaze. It’s so full of care, yet still so hungry. Oh yes, Grian’s going to make sure he does a good job for him. He nods eagerly.

“Good girl,” Impulse says softly, though in the quiet that’s fallen over the room it might as well be shouted. Grian can feel how everyone is staring at them, marveling at the sight of a tamed Grian. He’s almost embarrassed at how easily Impulse got him, but then again, when Impulse is looking at him like that it’s hard to really care. Somehow, without hitting or insults or any of the flashy extras, Impulse has gotten him closer to subspace than he has been all night. Normally, Grian likes to hold on, likes to feel like he’s won, somehow. But with Impulse, it’s easy. Impulse makes it safe.

Impulse pulls himself out of his jeans and guides himself to Grian’s mouth, waiting patiently just in front of his lips, allowing Grian to make the first move. Grian leans forward and takes him into his mouth without hesitation.

Grian knows he’s good at sex; he prides in his skill, in fact. But there’s little he loves more than deepthroating. He thought about going for it with Bdubs, with Ren, but something about it just hadn’t felt right. He had a feeling he was going to need to save his energy, and now it looks like he was correct. Deepthroating Scar, Etho, even Doc, that was nothing. The three of them were well endowed, but they were nothing in comparison to Impulse’s cock. Grian is glad he saved his energy for this moment.

Grian sucks lightly on Impulse’s cock to start, getting used to the feel of him in his mouth. It looks like he’s been hard for awhile; Grian doesn’t have to do any work to bring him to his fullest. All he has to do is wrap his lips around the sheer size of him, wrap his head around the reality of the challenge ahead of him. She pulls off for a moment to breathe and gather herself, pressing kisses along the length of Impulse. God, he wishes he had his hands. Handling a cock of this size feels nearly impossible without being able to guide it, to work the parts he can’t quite reach with his mouth. Maybe if he asks nicely, Impulse will guide him and help put him where he wants him? She rests her head on Impulse’s thigh and looks up at him, trying her best to look small. She doesn’t have to work hard for it, being around Impulse like this makes her feel small.

“Sir?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Could you-” Grian struggles against his binds briefly and whines. He notices vaguely that the ropes have loosened some more but he tucks the thought away to the back of his mind for now. Now’s not the time for that. He continues, “It’s hard without my hands, but I- I want-”

“What do you want, baby?”

“Want to deepthroat you, want to do a good job for you. Guide me, please? I just want to be good.”

Impulse smiles warmly. “Thank you for asking, sweet boy. That was very good of you. Of course I’ll help you.” He brushes his thumb over Grian’s cheek and her eyes fall shut. “But I need one thing from you before we start. Since I’ll be the one holding you down, I need to know if it ever gets to be too much. If you need to pull off, I want you to snap. Can you show me that you can do that?”

Grian snaps behind his back obediently.

“Good boy.” He holds Grian by the shoulders and guides him to sit straight, letting his hands trail over his shoulder and up his neck before cupping his face. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir. Please use me.”

Impulse grabs his ponytail and uses it as a handle to guide him forward onto his cock. He doesn’t push all the way in yet, lets Grian suck and lick and get used to him again. But when he does decide to push all the way inside, he doesn’t give Grian much warning. One second Grian can breathe, and the next he can’t, Impulse slipping past his gag reflex and into his throat with ease. There’s a weightless moment after his breath is stolen away. He looks up into Impulse’s eyes, sees his look of adoration, feels the hand holding his hair, feels the pulse of his cock in his throat, and it feels like Grian’s floating. Grian feels as the oxygen in his lungs is slowly used up, until his lungs nearly spasm with desperation, but luckily Impulse chooses that moment to pull him off.

Grian takes in heaving gasps of air and falls forward, forehead pressed into Impulse’s thigh. Impulse speaks soft praise as she comes back to herself and catches her breath. The moment she’s regained control of her lungs, she brings herself back to center and stares up into Impulse’s eyes again. God, Grian could get drunk off the way those eyes look at him. But now isn’t the time for that. Now he has a job to do. He tries to bring his head forward to take Impulse in his mouth again, but he’s stopped by Impulse’s hold on his ponytail.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m-” Grian whines, unsure of what she’s done wrong. “I want to please you, sir?”

“I thought we agreed I’d be in charge of where you are. Did I say you should suck my cock?”

And goodness, the look he gives Grian then. Then suddenly, before he can really process what’s happened, Grian is reeling from the impact of a strike across his cheek. Turns out Impulse can be a little mean too; he just has a deliberate way of applying pressure. It only sets Grian’s spiral into subspace deeper.

Suddenly the cock ring turns on again and Grian yelps in surprise. It stays on for a long moment, the speed quickly ramping up and leaving her shaking. It turns off again, just as quick and jarring as the last time, and Grian looks up to see Impulse nodding at Scar approvingly. Impulse turns his attention back to Grian, and Grian freezes. Impulse stands above him, face impassive and stern.

“I don’t like having to punish you, but I will do it. I’m doing this for your own good, Grian.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Grian croaks out, “Won’t happen again, sir.”

“Good.” And just like that, the tenderness returns. Impulse pets Grian’s head gently and cups her cheek. “Now, what do we say when we want something?”

“Please?”

“Yes, sweetheart, very good.” Impulse rubs his thumb over her cheekbone. “You can ask for what you want now, Grian.”

“Please, can- can I-” Grian cuts himself up and bites his lip, suddenly unsure of himself. Things are definitely feeling a little fuzzy around the edges and he suddenly doesn’t feel confident that he knows the right answer.

But then there’s Impulse. Big, kind, mild-mannered Impulse who he knows will take care of him. “You don’t need to worry; you’ve already been punished.”

Grian swallows and closes her eyes, pushing into Impulse’s hand. “May I please suck your cock, sir?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Thank you for asking so nicely.” His hand leaves his cheek and comes back to grab her ponytail. “Here, let me help you.”

Impulse guides Grian back to his cock slowly and Grian vows in that moment, sinking into his gentle touch, that he’s going to do his absolute best for him. He starts with kitten licks to the head of his cock, then quickly moves up to long, broad licks along his shaft that make Impulse shiver. It’s only when Impulse’s hand tightens its grip on her hair that she decides to move on to the main attraction. She doesn’t want to be a tease. Grian softens his tongue and pushes it forward as he takes Impulse into his mouth, just letting the length of him run up and down as he bobs his head shallowly. When Impulse’s cock is almost entirely out of his mouth, he sucks down hard on the head and traces the underside with the point of his tongue. Impulse hums appreciatively and fucks shallowly into his mouth.

Grian presses forward and feels the head of his cock press against the back of her throat. But then she doesn’t need to push forward, Impulse pulling her onto his cock and forcing her to relax her throat or choke. Grian basks in the lightheadedness that follows as he fucks her throat, shallow thrusts feeling like monumental movements to her overstimulated body. It’s all beginning to feel like a lot: the ropes, the plug, the cock ring, the dick in his mouth. It’s just so much.

Impulse pulls out when Grian is just starting to feel truly faint. Every time they’ve done this Impulse always seems to know just when it’s on the verge of too much. Grian sucks in air as soon as he’s able, sagging into the ropes that bind him. It’s not long before Impulse pulls him back onto his cock.

The cycle repeats for… Well, Grian’s not sure how long. She truly does lose all track of time while Impulse fucks her throat, constantly caught between one moment and the next. Grian’s brain feels like it’s been dipped in honey, every thought moving slow and syrupy. The intensity of Impulse’s thrusts, however, grow more intense, each pushing just that little bit deeper as he hums and chases his own pleasure. Grian can feel how close to the edge he is, so he sucks him down as far as he’s able, throat fluttering around Impulse’s cock, and sucks. Impulse comes down his throat with a long, deep groan that rattles out from his chest and Grian feels something proud bubble up in his chest. He did that, just for Impulse.

Impulse pulls out, murmuring sweet praise to Grian as she catches her breath. Grian only notices she’s closed her eyes when Impulse is patting her cheek, trying to get her attention.

“Grian? You okay?”

“Mm, great. Did I do good?”

“You did perfect, sweetheart. You were a very good girl for me.” He reaches out and brushes Grian’s cheek.

Grian hums happily and kisses Impulse’s palm. He basks in the moment for as long as he can, but of course, the peace could never last, and soon enough Grian can feel a dark presence looming behind him.

“Yes, you did an excellent job, pet. But you’re not finished yet. Impulse,” Scar says, tone dark, “you do know this was supposed to be a punishment, don’t you? Our boy,” he spits, “has been a little slut, sleeping with anyone who will give him the time of day. Certainly you know I can’t let that lie.”

“Of course not, Scar. I just thought he could use a break, since you’re all being so rough with him. Besides, I’m sure the hits are going to land a lot harder now that I’ve got him under for you.” Impulse pets his hair and Grian tries to savor the sweet touch. “But forgive me, I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” Scar doesn’t quite growl, but his tone is much darker than it was before, almost a challenge.

Impulse pauses, one eyebrow raised, but eventually holds up his hands in a placating gesture. Apparently he isn’t keen on getting in a fight for dominance at the moment. “She’s all yours.”

Scar’s hands are on Grian in an instant, hauling her up to her feet and pushing her towards the back bedroom, nearly making her trip. But when Scar grabs the back of the ropes and starts to push, Grian can feel them shift against his skin much more than they had before. They’ve loosened significantly with all of Scar’s dragging around, though Scar doesn’t seem to have noticed. This could be her chance to finally one up Scar, to show him that she’s more than a toy for him to play with. Grian feels herself come out of that fuzzy place, just a bit, as the determination sets in.

Scar pushes him down onto the bed face first, and of course Grian can do nothing to catch himself. It only sets that flame of defiance in her chest burning brighter. But he’ll play at being submissive for now, then he can really get the jump on Scar.

Scar rubs a hand over Grian’s bare ass and smacks it once, hard. Grian yelps at the contact and bares his teeth.

Scar chuckles darkly. “Impulse really was too gentle with you. Oh well, I’ll just have to finish teaching you your lesson myself.”

Scar flips her over on the bed and crawls up to sit on her hips, dragging her forward by the harness to press a vicious kiss to her lips. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and bites on it, making her whine. He kisses Grian until she’s left reeling from the sensations, from the domination in his actions. Everything is aggressive, possessive. Scar stands and laughs again darkly at the stunned look on Grian’s face.

The ring turns on again, and this time Grian moans. Absolutely no attention has been paid to her cock, and at this point she’ll take what she can get. Of course, Scar doesn’t let her just coast on the pleasant vibrations surrounding the base of her dick; he lets it sit there at one speed long enough to wind her up, then bumps it up to the next level. Grian can’t get any relief, unable to come until the ring comes off. It’s maddening.

Scar bumps up another level, and a long whine works its way free from Grian’s throat. But suddenly it all stops and Scar’s hand is on his dick, sliding off the ring. His hand comes back to squeeze Grian’s cock, and he cries out and nearly comes on the spot.

“Ah, ah, ah, no coming yet. You won’t come until I say so, or else. Now, what do we think? The flogger maybe? The clamps? Ah hell,” he laughs again, “why not both?”

Grian squirms and squeezes her eyes shut. Oh god, this is going to be so much worse than she thought. When will Scar finally let up? Surely he’s had enough already? He squirms again, but it’s then that he notices where the knots have fallen with the ropes. The main knot holding his hands to his back is centered right at the lowest part of his lower back, and Grian thinks if he tried hard enough he could arch his back and twist his hand around to pick at it. There’s his big chance, he just has to distract Scar long enough to do it. Could he let Scar flog him and loosen the knot at the same time? Possibly, though it will be difficult. But it’s the only plan he has, so he’s going to have to stick with it.

While Grian has been thinking over his plan, Scar seems to have grown impatient. He leans over the bed and grabs him meanly by the law, forcing him to look at him. “I asked you what you thought. Do you think it’s a worthy punishment, pet?”

It’s mean, but Grian knows this is Scar’s own way of checking in without breaking character.

Grian decides to keep up his act for as long as possible. He speaks in as small a voice as he can, tries to make his eyes look pleading. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Please punish me. I deserve to be punished.”

Alright, maybe he’s laying it on a bit thick, but it does seem to work. Scar releases her and stands up straight, crossing his arms behind his back. “Don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you. Now,” he says and turns towards the toy bag that’s been abandoned on the floor, “let’s pick out a fun toy for you.”

The second that Scar turns his back, Grian is working at the knot. He tries to worm his fingers under the tight little wraps of rope and tug, though he can’t move his hands very far. The tension in the ropes may have loosened, but the knot itself has still held together fairly well. Damn. She does manage to get her finger through the first wrap of the knot and starts to pull quickly, trying to get it unwound from the rest. Luckily, there isn’t much of the working end to pull through, and she gets the first part of the knot undone. Success!

Scar turns back around just as she’s finished, a wicked smile on his lips. The clamps hang from one hand while the flogger rests in the other. He stalks forward and clips on the clamps with little fanfare, and Grian all but yelps as they go on. But the flogger he takes his time with. He trails the rope up and down Grian’s torso, almost ticklish, and Grian shivers at the sensation, at the threat that Scar intends it to be. The shiver isn’t even for show; she’s genuinely a little afraid of what’s to come. But then again, the marks it will leave… Grian pulls herself out of her thoughts before she can travel too far down that path and put herself in that fuzzy space again.

Scar trails his hands down from her neck to her chest, then flicks one of the clamps, making Grian cry out in shock and arch her back. Fuck, that’s gonna hurt when it comes off. However, she seizes the opportunity to fumble at the knot again when she arches her back. She has to take every opportunity she can if she wants to get out of here.

“You ready, pet?” Scar says as he stands up, twisting the tails of the flogger in his other hand. He brings the handle of the flogger down to hang in the air just above Grian’s lips.

The flogger he’s chosen is bright pink with a sparkly resin handle. Grian bought it partially as a joke at a kink fair, though it’s quickly become one of his favorite floggers. While Grian loves pain, there’s something perfect about the softer leather tails of this flogger. It’s still snappy, but it leaves wider, softer bruises that look beautiful against his skin, as opposed to the tight dark marks left by some of his stiffer floggers.

Grian closes his eyes and kisses the handle of the flogger. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll do twenty-five hits. I expect you to count on each one and say thank you. Is that understood?”

Twenty-five?! It will give him time to undo the knot at least, assuming he’s not too distracted. Only one way to find out. Grian exhales and braces himself for what’s to come.

“Yes, sir, I’m ready.”

Scar takes the first swing and hits the top of her thighs with a loup snap. Grian arches off the bed with a cry and works at the knot some more. He manages to get the next loop loosened, though he doesn’t have time to pull it through.

“One! Thank you, sir!”

Scar hits him again on the top of his thighs and he cries out again, counting and thanking him afterwards while working at the knot. This repeats for ten counts or so, each one becoming more and more difficult to think through, but he keeps at it and continues to untie the knot. It’s slow work, but Grian can feel himself getting close by the twelfth hit or so.

“Twelve! Th-thank you, sir!”

Scar smiles and sets the flogger down on the bed. He crawls forward and straddles her, leaning forward to bracket her body and give her another aggressive kiss. He flicks the nipple clamps again and Grian cries into his mouth. Scar pulls back and his eyes look wild.

“My pet, my perfect little doll, all tied up and crying for me.”

He cups his cheek and Grian can’t help but lean into the brief tender touch. Grian hadn’t noticed until now, but tears are leaking out of his eyes, sluggishly slipping down the sides of his face to land on the blankets.

“Just thirteen more,” he says, sing-song, “You ready?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Surely he can get out soon. Surely he can. He has to.

“Then let’s continue. Remember, I expect you to count.”

“Yes, sir.”

The next hit comes down suddenly, before he’s really braced himself, and the shocked cry that comes out of him is closer to a shriek.

“Th-thirteen! Th-thank you, s-sir,” Grian manages to pant out when he’s caught his breath. He can feel it, he’s so close to getting the knot undone. Just a little more. But the hits are starting to get to him, he’ll admit. But he has to hold on. He can do this. He can do this.

He decides to arch his back and go for the last little bit before the next hit can come. He struggles against the ropes as hard as he can, fingers at the knot, once, twice, and then, and then-!”

She manages to loosen everything enough to slip her hands free of the single column and surges forward, savoring the look of shock on Scar’s face. Victory! He pounces on Scar, flipping them both over so Grian is on top of him. There’s a moment of struggle, but Grian manages to pin Scar’s hands on either side of his head. He tries to buck Grian off, but Grian stays firm, pressing his full body weight into Scar. Scar bares his teeth and growls. Grian smiles broadly and presses a little harder into Scar. He fucking won.

That is, until Scar pushes forward and throws Grian off of him. Grian always forgets how strong Scar is. It doesn’t help that he has both height and weight over Grian too. It’s these advantages that let Scar manhandle Grian until he’s straddling him, his hands pinned above his head in a firm grip. Scar holds him there with one hand, the other falling to lie at Grian’s throat, not pressing in, but a threat all the same. Scar comes in close and Grian can feel his hot breath on his face.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Scar growls.

“I- I-”

“Think you can disobey me? That you can beat me?” He squeezes lightly on Grian’s neck. “I thought you had learned your lesson. I thought you wanted to be a good girl.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean- I didn’t want to-”

“Didn’t want to what?”

And Grian doesn’t know what to say. Scar lets her hang on that, raises an eyebrow as Grian lies there panting, struggling to find words that she doesn’t have.

“Oh, you’re really in for it now.”

The hand on his neck quickly moves to one of the clamps, pulling it off before Grian has time to process what’s happening, and Grian screeches. He pulls off the other one shortly after and Grian tries and fails to keep another cry behind his teeth. The hand comes back up to rest at his throat again, but this time the fingers do press in, slowly cutting off his oxygen. Grian’s eyes widen and he thrashes against the hands holding him down, but he can’t get Scar to budge. Just when his body is starting to buzz with the lack of oxygen, Scar lets go and surges forward to kiss him hard, stealing his breath away further. The feeling is absolutely intoxicating and sends him spiraling back into subspace.

Grian heaves in gasps of air when Scar finally allows him to breathe. Scar looms above him, and the look on his face is one of anger, but Grian knows better. Underneath it, Grian can see his surprise, his interest, his fascination with the wild creature beneath him. Grian can see his love.

“I’m getting Etho.” The pressure on Grian’s wrists starts to let up. “If you so much as think about moving, I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a week. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Grian croaks. God, he sounds wrecked.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

Scar leaves, and Grian is left reeling. It’s the first time he’s been alone since this whole thing began, and the silence of the room is almost suffocating. The pain in his thighs starts to really set in, and Grian squirms. The bruises are already blooming across his thighs: broad, dark stripes reminding him of his punishment. Grian starts to squirm again, a whine building in his throat, but then he suddenly freezes. Scar told him not to move. If he moves, he’ll be in trouble. Grian really doesn’t want to be in trouble. He just wants to be good. He tries to take a few deep breaths and calm his racing heart. He can be good, he can be good, he can be good.

Scar re-enters the room with Etho right on his heels. The look on Scar’s face is dark, while Etho simply looks indifferent, bored.

“Good, staying where I put you. You’re learning.”

“Yes, sir. I-” Grian swallows. “I just want to be good for you, sir. Please let me be good.”

Scar barks out a laugh. “Well, you should have thought about that before you got out of the ropes. Good pets don’t try to escape their punishments.” Scar sits on the side of the bed and puts a finger on Grian’s chin, turning her head to look at him. “Surely you know I’m going to have to give you another punishment, don’t you?”

Grian squeezes her eyes shut and sighs shakily as she gives a nod.

Scar starts to pet her head. “I don’t want to, you know, but I have to. I’m doing this for your own good.”

Etho clears his throat. Grian had almost forgotten he was there, looming in the doorway. “So, what would you like me to do here, Scar? How do you want him tied up?”

Scar doesn’t break eye contact with Grian as he speaks. “I want his hands tied, for one. Face down, ass up. What do you recommend?”

“How about a tengu? That’s always a fun position for the hands. And I think I have a hip harness that will do exactly what you’re looking for.”

“A tengu would be perfect. Thank you, Etho. Now Grian,” Scar says, “what do we say when someone helps us?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy."

The praise, however brief, sends a shiver down Grian's spine.

"Now Etho," Scar continues, "if you please. I’ll step back and let you work.”

Etho nods and crawls onto the bed, and it’s then that Grian notices the bag he’s brought with him. It’s no secret that Etho is a great rope top. He’s definitely the most experienced person on the bus by far, but his skill could outmatch just about anyone at your average rope jam. It’s a shame they don’t have the room to bring a rig on tour; Etho’s talent truly shines when he’s able to do suspension. The bag he carries is black and compact, and when he opens it it lies flat, holding coils of rope of various colors and materials in individual compartments.

“We have a couple choices depending on what you want, Scar,” Etho says as his hands ghost over the rope, “I have jute, cotton, MFP, and coconut. Not my full collection but it'll do." He smiles crookedly. "I’m not sure what sort of feeling you’re going for.”

Scar stills at Etho’s words and cocks his head slightly. It almost feels a bit uncanny. "Did you say you had coconut?"

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no no no not coconut rope. Scar is certainly showing his sadistic tendencies tonight if he decides to have Etho tie him up in coconut. Rope can come in many natural fibers, each with their own properties, but Grian’s least favorite by far is coconut. It's prickly and sharp, and every shift of rope feels like microscopic needles digging into your skin. Definitely not his first choice.

"Of course." Etho's crooked smile turns sharper.

"Tie him up in that then, if you please."

Etho just grins and takes the rope from his bag, finding the bite with ease. Grian’s eyes widen and his breath quickens as he watches Etho handle the rope. This is going to be so bad. Etho makes a small knot in the rope, marking the center, and sets it down on the bed.

Etho’s smile disappears. “I want you on the floor,” Etho says, “I know you can get out of that rope, so take it off and kneel.”

Grian slowly stands from the bed and removes the rope left hanging loosely from his body, then kneels in the narrow space between the door and the bed. There’s just enough room for Etho to move around him and work with the rope. But the space is still small, and Grian is certain that she’s going to get slapped in the face with rope at least once during this endeavor. Well, she’s certainly not looking forward to that experience.

“Good. Now, put your hands up.” The way Etho says “good,” doesn’t sound like true praise; it’s simply confirmation they can move on to the next step. He doesn't sound bored exactly, but like the word is perfunctory. It feels a bit clinical, sterile.

Grian puts his hands up, palms at the level of his shoulders and arms held tight to his body.

Etho gently guides his bicep back and begins to make two wraps around the lower part before tying it off in a knot. Then he reaches around Grian’s chest to make several wraps around his torso and ties a quick friction before making wraps around his opposite bicep and brings the rope back to center. Grian can’t see exactly what he does, but Etho continues to work on the back before pulling the rope over his shoulder to the front. He brings the rope down to the strap below his pecs and pulls it through,  making two half hitches on the way back up to Grian’s neck before resting the rope on his other shoulder.

Grian shifts a bit, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his already bruised knees, but the slight movement makes the rope shift against his skin and he grits his teeth. Fuck. Fuck.

Etho pauses to extend the rope, then continues to work in the back. Next he wraps another strap around Grian’s wrist and throws in another friction before pulling the rope across his back and repeating the action on his other wrist. He crosses the rope against Grian’s back and pulls it back to the front through the space between his bicep and his chest. He splits the center stem and wraps the rope through it before pulling the working end back across his back and repeating the same thing on the other side, making a diamond below his pecs. He repeats this a little further up on the stem, making a second diamond above his pecs. Etho ties off the rope in the back and then Grian is left kneeling on the floor, his hands thoroughly bound. Grian luckily didn’t get swatted in the face, he should have known that Etho was too skilled to let that happen, but still, the ropes are highly uncomfortable. Every small movement feels like needles digging his skin, and it makes him whimper when he accidentally presses into them.

“Beautiful,” Scar says quietly. Grian had almost forgotten he was there, getting lost in the feeling of Etho tying him up, of the ropes against his skin.

“Not done quite yet. Grian,” Etho says, “Get on the bed, kneeling.”

Grian stands with some difficulty and Etho has to grab the back of the tengu and help pull him up. The shifting of the rope, of course, drags against his skin and makes him cry out. Fuck, this is so much worse than he thought. He climbs onto the bed and shuffles forward on his knees, suddenly feeling off balance. Suddenly, there’s a hand on the center of his back shoving him forward hard, and Grian can do nothing but fall flat on his face. He turns his head to the side and whimpers, trying to adjust to the new position. But before he can adjust, Etho grabs his hips and shoves them up and forward, forcing Grian onto his knees with his chest off the bed and his ass in the air. The new angle pushes the plug into him in a different way, and Grian whimpers again, screwing his eyes shut. The plug presses just a little off from his prostate, and he squirms at the maddening tease. The squirming of course drags the rope against his skin, and he lets out a small sob at the feeling.

Etho starts to wrap the rope around his thighs and lower back without saying a word. He pulls the rope under Grian’s hips and wraps it around the opposite side of the strap around his thighs and lower back. The rope gets pulled down between his legs next, wrapping over and around the strap there, then the working end is pulled back through to its original position. Etho quickly ties it off and Grian is left ass up, fully exposed.

“Done. What do you think, Scar?”

“It’s perfect. You’ve really outdone yourself out here, Etho. Your work is beautiful. Thank you so much for doing this.”

Etho waves him off. “It’s no trouble. Anytime you need it, I’m happy to lend a hand.” He turns to leave. “If you need anything else let me know.”

And then Etho is gone and Grian is left alone with Scar once more. Scar walks around the bed, seeming to appraise her, and Grian feels properly, truly helpless. She feels caught. Scar crawls onto the bed and grabs her ass roughly.

“Now, pet, I think you’ll need to endure one last punishment. We didn’t finish our last one, after all.” He slaps Grian’s ass and she jolts, ropes shifting against her skin. “Another flogging, starting over at twenty-five strikes. How does that sound?”

Grian bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. “It- it sounds like a good punishment, sir.”

Scar chuckles darkly and rubs a hand over Grian’s skin, still stinging from the slap. Then his other hand surprises Grian as it twists the plug. The sensation is overwhelming, the tip so achingly close to his prostate, and he lets out another sob as he writhes on the bed. Tears are rolling down his face and they haven’t even started the flogging yet.

“You will count and say thank you after each strike, just like before. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Grian whimpers.

“Good, then we’ll begin.”

Scar stands and grabs the flogger–wicked paracord with knots all down the tails–and then they’re off without another word. The first strike is not a surprise, though it shocks Grian all the same.

“Ah! O-one! Thank you, sir!”

Another strike.

“T-two! Thank you, sir!”

Another strike.

“Three! Thank you, sir!”

Another.

“F-four! Thank you, sir!”

Another. Another another another.

On go the strikes, each one stinging more than the last, and eventually Grian can’t speak enough through the tears to count. It’s then that Scar pauses, lies down on the bed to be face to face with Grian.

He places a hand to Grian’s cheek and speaks softly. “Hey. Hey, hey, color?”

“G-green,” Grian says without hesitation, “I just-” He sniffles. “I need a second.”

“Of course, as long as you need.”

Scar brushes the back of his knuckles against Grian’s cheekbone and Grian shudders, still trying to get his breathing under control. It hurts, it really really does, but he can’t help but relish in it. Some part of him wanted more from Scar; he wouldn’t have pushed so hard to get out of the ropes if he wasn’t expecting Scar to retaliate. He knew there was no way he was getting away with it, whether his punishment happened tonight or the next time they played. He just hadn’t expected it all to be so much. The ropes burn with every small jump and shift, and the hits from the flogger are constantly making him writhe, creating a little hurricane of pain that nearly swallows him. But it’s good. He needs this, to be put in his place, to have someone else tell him what to do, to guide him, to make sure he’s learned his lesson, to make him better, to let him prove himself and be good. He can’t imagine the night going any other way.

“Hey,” Scar says after a minute or two of Grian still struggling to stifle his tears, “here’s what I think we should do: since you’ve been such a good boy for me and taken your punishment so well so far, I say we only go up to fifteen hits. Can you do five more?”

Yes. Yes yes yes, she just wants to be good. She nods as best as she can with her cheek still pressed into the mattress and sighs shakily. “Yes, sir.”

Scar pushes the stray hairs that have fallen out of her ponytail away from her forehead and presses a kiss to her temple. “You’re doing so well. So perfect for me.”

Grian knows it’s the tears that made Scar back off on his fearful, dominant persona. But as much as he loves that side of Scar, this side is wonderful too. Grian melts at his kiss, and suddenly he doesn’t mind the torture that is the ropes so much. It’s all okay. Scar makes it all okay. He’ll take care of him.

“Do you want me to go back into character?” Scar asks quietly.

Grian hums, absent and floaty.

“Gonna need some words, Grian. How do you want this to play out?”

“I…” Grian starts. He pauses, trying to think, a bit lost in his own head.

Scar rubs his thumb over his cheek again. “What do you want, G? I’m right here.”

“...I want you to be nice,” Grian eventually says, voice soft with an edge of a croak in it.

Scar looks at him with so much affection, so much love, and Grian absolutely melts. “Oh, my perfect little pet, of course I can be nice.” Scar presses another kiss to her lips. “I’m going to get the flogger now and we’re going to do five more hits, then you can get a little reward after. Does that sound nice?”

“I might cry, s-sir,” she says quietly. She managed to stop crying, but there’s still a sniffle there.

“That’s alright. I can take care of you, darling. Do you want to cry?”

She still feels a bit hazy, but she knows that crying, that that release is what she really needs. “Yes, sir.”

“Then cry as much as you want to.” He’s still smiling and looking at her with that soft, gooey expression. It makes Grian want to smile too, so he does. “Should we get started?”

“Yes, sir.”

Scar gives him one final kiss, and then he stands up, grabbing the flogger and assuming his position next to the bed. “Remember, I want you to count. If you want to get your reward you’ll have to be a good girl and do as I say. Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

Scar runs the tails of the flogger over Grian’s ass, and then there’s a whoosh of air and a sudden strike.

Grian cries out and immediately starts to feel the tears bubble back up in his chest. “O-one! Thank you, sir!”

Another strike, and Grian feels a tear run down his cheek.

“T-two! Thank you, sir!”

Another strike, and Grian lets out a sob.

“Ah! Th-three! Thank you, sir!

Another strike, and Grian has to grit his teeth as the tears continue to roll.

“F-four! Th-thank you, sir!

A final strike, and Grian feels almost gone, lost in his tears.

“Five! Thank- Thank you…”

Scar leans in close and pets her cheek. “What’s that, baby?”

Grian takes in a gulp of air. “Five, sir! Thank you, sir!”

Scar smiles, eyes sparkling. “What a good boy, taking everything I give him. I’m so proud.”

Grian smiles despite his crying. He still hiccups and sobs, but the smile stays on his lips. Scar is proud of him! Grian did what Scar asked of him, and he won. The high of it sends him reeling.

“Are you ready for your reward, sweet boy?”

Scar rubs a hand over Grian’s bruised backside and she shakes at the touch.

“P-please, please…” Grian says, voice quivering as she tries to reign in her tears.

Scar coos. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you, I got you now.”

He runs his hand down to toy with the plug again, but this time he actually starts to pull it out. Grian winces at the tug on his rim, but Scar just shushes him gently and continues what he’s doing. One hand runs soothingly up and down the side of his thigh while the other hand works the plug free from his hole, and soon enough Grian is left achingly empty.

Grian whines and Scar shushes him again before he quickly lines himself and starts to push in. The feeling is shocking, and a long, deep moan is punched out of him at the feeling. Scar bottoms out and stays there for a moment, whispering sweet praise as Grian adjusts to the feeling. Scar’s cock hits all kinds of places the plug couldn’t, filling every part of him and leaving him feeling finally full. He lets out a shuddering breath, the occasional tear still leaking from his eyes, and takes in the sweet little nuggets of praise that Scar is feeding him and lets himself relax into it. Just when he’s started to adjust to the feeling of Scar inside of him, Scar starts to rock gently, hands firmly on her hips to keep her from moving. He picks up the pace slowly, almost frustratingly slowly, as if Grian is some fragile thing that could be broken if handled too roughly.

There’s a brief pause where Scar’s hands leave her hips, but then one hand is bracing her hip while the other hand snakes around and suddenly slides the cock ring back over her dick. Grian cries out at the feeling. It’s not the most comfortable, putting the ring on when she’s already hard, but the lube Scar slicked it with helps. The hand on his cock traces the vein along the back up to the base, then there’s a faint click and the ring is vibrating, sending shocks of pleasure-almost-pain through his body.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Scar says, tone not quite apologetic, “I have to keep my promises, now don’t I? You said you put him in a cock ring, so it’s only fair.”

Grian shudders at the vibrations reverberating up her cock and into her core. “Y-yes, sir…” she says weakly. The feeling makes her squirm, making the ropes dig in again, and squeezes her eyes shut as a sob breaks free from her chest. It’s just so much.

Scar picks up the pace then, fucking her at a moderate tempo, but somehow still Grian wants more. She wants to be so overwhelmed that she can’t control her body, until she can’t think anymore; she wants to break, for Scar to shatter her, for Scar to smash her into fragments and then put her back together when it’s all over.

“More. More, please, sir. I need more.”

“More? You want more baby?” Scar gives a particularly hard thrust. “Yeah, yeah I can give you more.” He continues to thrust hard and deep and Grian cries a little harder. “You like that?”

“Yesyesyesyesyes-”

Grian can almost hear Scar smile. He speaks through panted breath, “Good, that’s good.” He squeezes the back of Grian’s thighs where the flogger left bruises and Grian shouts out in shock. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you? And you’d like it, and you’d thank me.” Scar plasters himself along Grian’s back to whisper into his ear, “You’re my little bitch. My perfect pet. You’re mine.”

Scar reaches around to the cock ring again and there’s another small click, then the intensity of the vibrations increases. A long, thready whine escapes Grian’s throat as she writhes, the straining of her cock too much, the sharpness of the ropes too much, the feeling of Scar pounding into her too much. It’s so fucking much. They’ve done all of the individual pieces of the scene, but never all at once, never in this combination. The whole thing is mind-meltingly addictive. The whole thing is almost overwhelming too, just riding that line of too much and not enough. Grian wonders if he could stay here forever, just basking in this moment.

Scar straightens back up and grips Grian’s hips harshly, continuing the brutal pace he’s set and using his leverage to pull Grian’s hips back to meet his cock on each thrust. He’s lined up perfectly to drive his cock directly into Grian’s prostate, and it nearly makes Grian howl. Scar stays steady in his rhythm, the tension in Grian building quickly, his body begging for release. But with the cock ring, there’s no way he’s coming until Scar says so.

“Please, Scar, I- Ah!” Grian cries out as Scar hits a particularly good spot inside him. “P-please, can I come?”

Scar laughs huskily. “What? Not liking your reward, baby?”

“N-no, no I-” Grian breaks off in a moan as Scar grabs her cock.

“If you want to come so bad, baby-” He kisses Grian’s shoulder and squeezes her cock. “Beg for it.”

Grian doesn’t need to be told twice. The words fall out of him like water. “Please, please, sir, I- I- I’ll be good for you. I’m trying to be good. Just want to be good for you- Ah! Please let me come, please please please- I can’t- Please let me come, sir!”

Scar strokes his cock as Grian continues to beg, words steadily becoming more and more incomprehensible as he falls deeper and deeper into the maddening pleasure of Scar’s touch. Scar kisses his shoulder again, and again, his kisses turning to nips, turning to a sharp bite into the meat of his shoulder. Grian cries out and writhes in his bonds, broken little sobs pouring from his lips. It seems that Scar finally takes pity on him.

“Beautiful, you’re beautiful. Love to hear you beg.”

His fingers run up Grian’s cock to sit at the base before there’s a tug and the ring starts to slide down. The vibrations make him cry harder as Scar lets the ring sit just above the head. It’s too- It’s too- It’s too much. It’s too much! Then suddenly Scar is turning the ring off, slipping it over the head, and grabbing his cock again. He pumps hard, his hand a tight sleeve, and Grian doesn’t think she can hold back any more.

“Please!” she cries, tears streaming down her face. “Please!”

Scar thrusts harder, deeper, faster, and his breath speeds up as he works himself closer to the edge. He pumps Grian a little faster and speaks a single command, “Come for me, darling.”

And Grian does.

It takes Grian a long while to come back to herself. She genuinely doesn’t remember Scar coming, but there’s fluid dripping out of her hole so he must have. She’s lying on her side now with Scar at her back, the ropes still binding her tight. While his embrace is lovely, the ropes are not, and she whines as she shifts slightly.

“Hey, welcome back, beautiful.” Scar squeezes her tightly and kisses the back of her neck.

“Scar?”

“Yes, baby?

“Can I get out of the ropes now?”

“Of course. Here, can I roll you back up onto your knees? Then we can get the waist rope off.”

Grian agrees and winces when Scar tilts him upright, the ropes digging in where they’ve already rubbed him raw. Scar takes him out slowly, careful not to drag the rope over the skin more than is necessary. Nonetheless, Grian finds himself crying again. The feeling of being released is incomparable to any other experience Grian’s had with kink. There’s a sense of accomplishment in knowing that he was strong enough to make it through, but it’s also jarring. It can be a lot to be in control of your body again, to have that choice. Part of what Grian loves about bottoming is that lack of choice. Having it returned to you can be overwhelming.

Scar removes the hip harness, then sits him up all the way to start untying the tengu. His hands stay firmly pressed to Grian’s skin as he removes the rope, holding the tension so Grian is released as slowly as possible. Grian doesn’t know what to do with his arms when they’re untied, so they snake around his middle and he holds himself tight.

“Hey, do you want a hug?” Scar asks, holding out his arms in invitation.

Grian nods and falls into his embrace immediately. It doesn’t feel like there’s anything left that’s Grian anymore, just a quivering, whimpering, soft-hearted creature that needs to be taken care of. She feels more vulnerable than she ever has before. Scar pets her hair and says nice things about her and whispers sweet nothings for a while, waiting patiently for Grian to find herself again. Eventually she manages to stop crying, just shaking in Scar’s firm hold and burying her face in his neck.

Scar strokes a hand gently over her back. “You doing okay? Do you need anything?”

“Just hold me, please. Don’t let go.”

Scar kisses the top of his head. “I won’t, baby. I won’t.”

They stay like that for a while, Scar holding Grian as Grian grips him back just as tight. Eventually Grian starts to feel a bit more at peace, less floaty and stuck in his own head, and he pulls back to look at Scar. Grian sniffles and realizes his cheeks are still wet with tears, so he releases his hold on Scar and wipes his face. When he meets Scar’s eyes they’re full of affection.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Grian says in return.

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel… I don’t know, I feel like my chest has opened up a little bit? Like it’s easier to breathe or something.”

“Is that good?”

“I think so.”

Scar smiles and pecks Grian on the lips. “Then good. I’m glad.”

Grian relaxes into Scar’s embrace again and rests her head on his shoulder. “Can we just talk? It can be about anything.”

“Do you want to talk about the scene? Things we liked, didn’t like?”

Grian hums. “Mm, not right now. But definitely later.”

“How about…” Scar pauses, rubbing a hand up and down Grian’s back. “Do you want to tell me about your little escapade earlier? I really do want to hear all about it. I’m sure you were fantastic.”

“Yeah, yeah you know what? That sounds nice.” Grian shifts to properly lie down and makes grabby hands at Scar, encouraging him to lie down with him. Grian flops onto Scar’s chest once he’s on his back. “So, his name was Mumbo.”

“Mumbo? What kind of name is that?”

Grian laughs. “What kind of name is Scar?”

“Point taken. So, tell me all about this ‘Mumbo,’ hm?”

“He was a good lay. Sweet, considerate. I might get dinner with him and his partner after the tour.”

A smile passes over Scar’s face, genuine. “That’s wonderful, darling. You’ll have to bring him around sometime.”

“Yeah, he’s really sweet. Looks cute when he blushes too.”

“Oh that’s the best.”

“It really is!”

“Well now I have to meet this Mumbo. He sounds fun to play with too.”

Grian chuckles, a dark tinge to it. “Oh, he is. I’d love to see him really tied up.”

Scar rolls his eyes. “Of course you would.”

“Hey! Says the man who literally just had me tied up in coconut rope! Don’t pretend you don’t have a fetish.”

Scar laughs then. “Oh, I’m not denying it. And,” he says, “sorry for the coconut rope by the way. I do fully expect to get my shit rocked at some point in the future. Turnabout is fair play, you know.”

“Oh believe me,” Grian says, hooded eyes looking up at Scar, “I know.” He leans up to give a Scar a kiss on the lips.

“You ready to talk about the scene now?” Scar says when Grian has pulled away and nuzzled back into his chest.

Grian sighs. “If we must.”

“We don’t have to yet if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’m just whining. Go ahead, tell me what you liked.” She looks up at Scar, a soft smile on her face.

“Well, for starters, watching you cry was fucking magical. You look so gorgeous when you break apart, baby.”

Grian blushes. “Sorry I can’t get like that more then.”

“Oh no no, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I love you all the ways we play. But there is something about getting to see you cry. It feels special.”

Grian clears his throat. “What else did you like?”

“God, Gri, what didn’t I like? You were fantastic. The way you handled being thrown out into the main room? The way you deepthroated Impulse? Phenomenal. And oh,” he says, eyes going bright, “when you got out of the ropes I was just- Ah! You’re such a little shit and I love it. You never cease to surprise me, Grian. But, um.” Scar grimaces. “Sorry if I went too hard with the punishment? I know I maybe got a little intense with the flogging. I hope the marks aren’t too bad.”

Grian presses a kiss to Scar’s chest. “They’re perfect.” He smiles. “Besides, there’s nothing a pair of tights and some makeup can’t fix. No big deal.” Scar still looks a little guilty, so Grian continues, “Really, I mean it. I love them. I like… I like being reminded who I belong to.”

“Oh, Grian, I don’t think anyone could ever own you.”

“It’s not about ‘owning’ me.” Grian chuckles before his voice turns serious again. “I belong to you, to everyone on this bus, because I want to and because I know you all belong to me too. It’s not ownership; it’s partnership. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Scar blushes and presses a kiss to the top of Grian’s head. “Love you, Gri.”

“Love you too, Scar.”

“Now, why don’t you tell me your favorite parts,” Scar says with a grin.

“Oh, my favorite parts,” Grian says, grinning right back, “Well, I have to say that the beating was pretty fucking spectacular. And of course I loved being called yours. But, I think I loved the ropes more than anything. Loved getting out of them of course, but when you called Etho? All of that kind of blew my mind, Scar. Coconut rope? Seriously? That was great.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I know we haven’t exactly done… all of that together. I hope it wasn’t too much?”

“Of course not. It was brilliant.”

“I guess I’ll have to believe you.”

“Oh trust me, Scar, if I didn’t like something you would know. You know me: whiny little bitch.” He gives a wry smile at that before sobering. “No but seriously, you know I would always tell you if it was too much?”

“I know that, it’s just… being on top can be scary sometimes. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t. And that’s not saying that it can’t happen, mistakes can always happen, but I know that even if you did fuck up I wouldn’t be upset. We would work through it. Unless you did something truly heinous I guess, but I know for a fact that would never happen.”

“...Thank you for saying that. Needed to hear it.”

“Aw, even big bad doms need reassurance sometimes?”

“Absolutely.” Scar is looking at him with so much affection, his eyes soft and expression gooey. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” Grian grins impishly. “I love you too, Scar. Now, do we want to join the rest of the crew for some cuddles and whatnot? I think I could use it.”

“Of course.” Scar removes his hands from where they’ve been petting Grian’s hair and starts to sit up. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Grian gives him one final kiss. “Let’s go.”