Steve’s arms stretched high above his head, support ropes tied to the back of the harness lifting the pressure off his wrists. He was floating a bit already, even though all Tony had done was wrap the harness around his chest, run a hand up along his arm, make goosebumps explode across his skin. His arms were held high, while his shoulders and chest fell forward.
He was naked, plugged, his hard cock jutting out in front of him. Across their bedroom, Tony stood in a pair of pants and a crisp white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He watched Steve, assessing. “I don’t know why I don't keep you strung up in our bedroom all the time.”
Steve racked a heavy breath, liked how the movement pulled at his wrists, reminded him he was tied and secured by Tony.
Tony stepped towards the dresser where an array of toys were lined on top. He brushed his hand past the paddle and the switch to land on a dark feather.
Steve’s breath caught. Tony picked it up and as soon as he was within reach, he traced it along Steve’s chest. Steve sucked in a breath, unable to help himself, and Tony stepped back, arms crossed. “I think you need to be quiet this evening. As pretty as your gasps and moans are, I want you to focus on sensation alone.”
Steve bit his lip and nodded, each new rule to their game making his cock to twitch and causing him to fall under just a little bit more. The feather was back again, tracing along his collarbone and down the middle of his chest. Steve took in a deep breath and it was wet and ragged, but he kept everything else caught in his throat, just like Tony had asked of him.
As the feather trailed from his sternum to his pec, Steve knew what was coming, bit his lip and waited. Between one breath and the next, the feather was tickling his nipple, and every flick of it made his cock ache. He almost wished he still had clothes on, just so that something was touching his dick. He managed, though, to keep quiet, to be good.
“So good,” Tony affirmed, and Steve whined from deep in his chest. He caught it at the last moment, right before it broke through his bitten lip. And he thought he was safe, but somewhere through it all his eyes had fallen shut, so he had no idea when Tony had picked up the paddle, only shouted when the wood landed against the back of his upper thigh.
“Oh.” Tony hummed. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”
He didn’t wait for Steve to breathe, just walked around and paddled him on the flesh of his ass, his other hand running the feather down his spine, so that his body had no idea which way to writhe, everywhere too much sensation, not enough.
Steve was panting. He’d definitely moaned a few times, too. He heard Tony’s bare feet against the carpet, and when he came to stand in front of Steve, he used a finger to lift his chin until their gazes met. “Quiet,” Tony whispered, “was what I said.”
There was a rush of air, and Tony was back by the dresser, looking at the toys, and Steve felt a pang of disappointment at having him so far away. His stomach churned with the knowledge that he hadn’t followed Tony’s order, and he wanted to whimper but also wanted to remain silent. Tony sensed it, of course, and he was back in front of Steve, something in his hand that Steve couldn’t focus on before Tony grabbed his chin and made Steve look at him. “I want you to feel, Steve. I want you to focus on my touch alone. But I know that it’s hard because when you feel good you want to make all those nice, pretty noises for me. Isn’t that right?”
"What's your safeword, love?"
Steve didn't even want to say it, for fear Tony would stop.
“You can answer me,” Tony assured.
"Colonel," he gasped out.
"Good boy." Tony hummed and walked around Steve, tracing a finger along any bit of skin he seemed to find, making his body alight with pleasure. He stopped walking when he was behind Steve, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin but he wasn’t touching, and Steve wanted to whine for contact, knowing that Tony was so close, but he kept quiet and waited. “I’m going to help you focus, my love.” The sound of fabric sliding against fabric, and silk slid along his spine. Then it was being looped around Steve face, and all he saw was darkness. “Cut off any possibility of distractions.”
Tony’s voice was close, his breath brushing his shoulder, his lips, his nipples, with every word of praise he gave. Steve reveled in it, sinking deeper into the hum vibrating through his veins. Then Tony pulled away in a rush of air that chilled Steve’s skin. He wasn’t gone long, Steve could feel him close by. He wanted to whimper for him, to beg for him to come closer, to touch. He wished the blindfold was a gag instead, to help him keep it all in. Instead, he inhaled a rough breath that cut off when the slash of the switch hit his nipple.
Pain radiated from the bud like it was hot wired to light up every nerve of his body, coalescing at the tip of his cock. He wished he could press down onto the plug, grind into it and seek some relief, but strung up like this, all he could do was clench. He swung, pressing his lips together, trying to remain quiet, but even still, a soft cry broke through.
“So close.” The switch hit his skin again. “But you couldn’t help yourself. Could you?”
He shook his head, and normally he would tell Tony how much he wanted to be good, beg him for more, for everything Tony wanted to give him. But tonight, Tony wanted him to feel, to focus, and Steve wanted that too.
“You’re trying so hard for me. I can see the strain in your neck and shoulders. I can practically hear you begging for me in your mind.” Tony brought his lips to Steve’s, and Tony’s tongue was in his mouth, swallowing every sound he would’ve made.
Then in a flash, Tony stepped back again, taking Steve’s breath with him. The switch hit his chest again, and Steve bit his lip hard, muffling sounds as a bead of come formed at the tip of his cock.
“Lovely. And I bet you can try even harder than that. What do you think?” The switch came down again, this time along his ass.
Steve moaned and whimpered and begged but only in his mind. On the outside, all he did was nod for Tony until a warm, smug voice whispered against his ear, “Good boy.” Steve floated at the praise, followed the sounds of Tony’s breath as he walked around Steve’s side. The trace of Tony’s fingers against his hip, down over the curve of his ass. Tony brought the switch down again, against his other hip, so light that the reverberating sparks that it created were more of a tickle than a sting. Steve swung, silently, leaning in to Tony and letting the sensation course through him. Tony lips were back at his ear, his fingers walking down between his ass. “That’s perfect, Steve. Just like that. Feel everything I give you.”
The steady internal begging had silenced, a heady floating taking its place, so much so that it took Steve a moment to realize Tony was playing with the plug that stretched at his rim. It was a deep one, but it hadn’t been pressing against his prostate like it was now, with every push of Tony’s fingers.
Steve's mouth fell open at the sensation, and when Tony pressed a button on the base of the plug that caused it to extend, he felt every inch of the intrusion stretching and taking him. Tony was behind him, wrapping his free arm around his waist, whispering how good he was. Steve was high, a buzz under his skin singing, begging, loving every thrust of the plug Tony gave him.
In the darkness of the blindfold, in the silence of Tony’s order, he felt every touch to his skin over his entire body, building and building and building. So when Tony brushed the back of his hand against against Steve’s cock, in an intentional or mindless gesture, Steve went off like a rocket without warning, stealing his breath against the tremors that rolled through his body.
Tony continued his light petting, even as the skin grew sensitive to the touch, his other hand running all over his chest and sides and back, caressing him until he could regain his breath. The blindfold came off first, then a bottle of water touched his lips. Tony’s pupils were still blown wide, but he didn’t seem in any rush to do anything more than take care of Steve.
He took the bottle away. Brushed a hand through his hair. “You can speak, if you’d like.”
Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He had nothing to say, no need to plead or beg, because Tony would take care of him.