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Drinks, Eight for Eight Thirty

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“So this is a party you have for defence attorneys every year?” Phoenix said, lying on Kristoph’s bed, watching his nimble fingers fiddle with the pink ribbon at his throat.

“That’s right,” said Kristoph.

“So how come you never invited me before?”

“Well,” Kristoph said, looking at Phoenix in the mirror, pale skin pinkening. “We didn’t really move in the same circles back then.”

“We do now,” Phoenix said, getting off the bed and crossing the bedroom. He slipped his arms around Kristoph’s waist.

“Mmm Hmm,” said Kristoph as Phoenix nuzzled into his neck, rubbing his stubble over the thin skin. Kristoph sighed, then said, “Actually that reminds me.” He turned in Phoenix’s arms and touched his cheek with a finger. “Please would you shave before they arrive.”

Phoenix made a noise into Kristoph’s temple that he hoped indicated that he very much did not want to shave. “I shaved yesterday,” he added. Thinking a bit more explanation might be needed.

Kristoph leaned back. “Don’t make me remind you about obedience, Phoenix. We have an arrangement.”

“Oh,” said Phoenix quietly. Kristoph hadn’t mentioned anything like that for weeks.

The arrangement. There was a contract, actually. A joke of a thing that Phoenix had signed on his knees, hard with the idea of being ordered to stop playing video games and warm Kristoph’s dick all evening.

Phoenix looked at Kristoph who had a stern expression on his face that Phoenix rather liked. “Yes, sir,” he said, and went to the little ensuite bathroom, enjoying the little kick that had given him.


Phoenix, in his freshly-cleaned blue suit, showered, shaved and feeling oddly nostalgic for when he always looked this way, wandered through Kristoph’s tasteful apartment. It was immaculate, surfaces gleamed and shone, chairs were plumped, soft and inviting. On the balcony overlooking the city, soft party lights twinkled. The music was something light and classical, a soft piano underscoring this perfect evening.

Phoenix sipped his grape juice, which was slipping down nicely. He was enjoying it, one of the things he was enjoying most was the four fingers of vodka he put into the glass first. Which he considered fair. Socialising with a whole bunch of people he didn’t really know - Kristoph’s lawyer friends - who almost certainly knew a few things about him, would be hard work sober.

He’d had three of these mixed drinks by the time Grossberg got him pinned in a corner and asked Phoenix if he had any thoughts on Armando’s appeal. It turned out Grossberg meant his legal appeal rather than his sexual appeal, but that was okay. Phoenix had, and gave, views on both. Armando deserved some clemency. He was also pretty hot. Although as he used to date Mia Phoenix would never go there. And he’s probably straight. Phoenix tossed the last of his drink back as he said that. But, even then, Grossberg talked for longer than he could have believed, and it was a while before Phoenix managed to smile and excuse himself.

As he retreated quickly, he was a bit unsteady on his feet, He almost crashed into the young man standing by the piano, who had to catch his wrist to keep him upright.

“Oops,” Phoenix slurred. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t mention it.” The man took his fingers off Phoenix’s wrist and offered a hand to shake. “I’m Daniel. Daniel Felix. I’ve just started working with Grossberg, actually.”

Phoenix shook the man’s hand, looking him up and down. He was nice looking. Young and lean. There was a hint of something European in his accent. Phoenix had always liked an accent. “Phoenix Wright,” he said, with a drawl that he hoped was just as sexy.

“Yes. I know that,” said Daniel, looking at Phoenix. “I’ve read about all your cases.”

“Hopefully not just the last one.”

“No. Not at all. That was a travesty. I’m actually a big fan of some of your earlier work. Your two defences of Maya Fey, and the Engarde case too.” He grinned, then looked a bit bashful.

Oh. Oh yes.

Phoenix took a step closer, trapping Daniel against the wall by the piano. “We should get married,” Phoenix said, touching Daniel’s arm. “I’d be Phoenix Felix.”

“I suppose you would,” said Daniel playfully. “If you took my last name, that is.”

“Oh, I would,” said Phoenix. “I’m a very dedicated bottom.”

“Right,” Daniel said, with a small shake to is voice. “You’re, you’re with Kristoph Gavin now, I understand?”

Phoenix leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Yes. I am, but, to tell you the truth, that asshole hasn’t so much as jerked me off in weeks.”

“Oh,” Daniel looked at Phoenix, is shock obvious in his eyes.

Phoenix bit his lip. “Sorry.” He raised his glass. “Was that TMI. I might have had one too many.”

“No it’s fine.” Daniel glanced down at the lack of space between their bodies. “A man like you has needs, I suppose.

“Yes. Daniel,” said Phoenix. “Yes I do.” And, steadying himself with a grip on Daniel’s upper arm, he leant in for a kiss.

Their lips only met for a fraction of a second before Phoenix felt fingers in his hair, a forceful jerk as he was yanked backwards. And the hiss, “Just what the fuck do you think are you doing?”

Before Phoenix could answer that, or even right himself, Kristoph was extending a hand to Daniel. “Mr Felix. I apologise. Phoenix is on some strong medication but he really wanted to put in an appearance. I think possibly that was a mistake.”

Daniel was saying, “Oh, please, I quite understand. No harm done. He does seem a little unwell. It was nice to meet you, Mr Wright. I hope you feel better soon.”

Kristoph said,” Very gracious of you. Thank you,” then turned and hissed at Phoenix, “You. Get in the kitchen. Now.” And shoved him in the direction of the door off the hallway.

Once Phoenix was through the kitchen door Kristoph crowded into the small room behind him and forced him forwards until he was bent right over the counter. Kristoph leaned across Phoenix’s back, finding his ear. “What. The hell. Was that?”

“He’s cute,” Phoenix whined. “You’ve been ignoring me all night. Neglecting me.” He made a little moaning sound and pushed his ass back against Kristoph’s groin, making the most of the position Kristoph had forced him into. His head was spinning but the marble counter was deliciously cool.

“He’s a valuable professional contact,” said Kristoph tightly. “And you forced yourself on him.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Phoenix pressed his ass back again.

Kristoph ignored it. “Sorry? Is that all?”

“Sorry, sir,” Phoenix muttered into the countertop.

“I’m afraid I don’t think that’s good enough.”

Phoenix twisted to look up at Kristoph. “Sure but I have an idea. Honey, why don’t you fuck me right now? You’ve already got me bent over the counter. We haven’t done that for ages, and we’ve never fucked with all your stuffy lawyer friends on the other side of the door.” He ground his ass back again, teasing Kristoph’s dick. He felt so good held down like this, Kristoph’s strong grip, his angry tone, the alcohol buzzing through him, making him feel so good and so sexy. “Come on baby. Fuck me. Teach me a fucking lesson. Show me what I deserve. Give it to me rough. Right here.”

Kristoph pulled away from Phoenix’s ass. “You’re disgusting, you slutty drunk. Get on the floor and apologise to me properly,” he snarled.

Phoenix straightened and turned around. He looked at Kristoph with sullen eyes, still having to steady himself on the counter. “Really?”

“Yes. Onto the floor. On your knees.”

Slowly Phoenix got down on the kitchen floor. He looked up at Kristoph. “Sorry, sir. Sorry I’m such a slutty drunk at your party.”

Finally Kristoph looked a little satisfied. He even smiled a little “You’re very lucky you look so good like that. Now show me some proper respect.” He nodded downwards at his feet.

Phoenix lowered his face to the floor and kissed Kristoph’s white loafer. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. He’d forgotten how good it was when Kristoph was like this. He moved to kiss the other shoe, “Sorry, sir,” he said again, this time words trailing off into a little gasp of arousal.

“This is doing it for you, is it. You’re pathetic.” Kristoph said, pulling his foot away. “And no more drinking, or you won’t like what happens. Have a fucking glass of water you revolting addict,” he added, stalking out of the kitchen

Phoenix stayed where he was, kneeling on the kitchen floor for a minute. Sometimes, with Kristoph, he didn’t know if he meant the things he said and did, or if it was just an act for both of their benefits. Still Kristoph was hot when he was like this, he thought, pulling himself up off the floor and fixing another drink.

When he came out of the kitchen, another generous vodka and juice in his hand, two men and a woman who looked familiar seemed to be having an animated discussion in an alcove in the hall.

One man said, “I didn’t think he’d really be here. Now I feel bad about it.”

The woman said. “I don’t. He didn’t even present a counter argument. We had to.”

Then the other man said, “Except Kristoph. He voted in Wright’s favour.”

“Wonder why,” said the first man, raising an eyebrow and at the same time spotting Phoenix, “Oh, Mr Wright. I didn’t know you were in the kitchen.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Phoenix, raising his glass and taking a drink.

“You heard what we were taking about?” said the woman, uneasily.

“Sure did,”Phoenix slurred. “Recognise you too. All three of you were on that panel. Voted to take my badge away,”

“It was just business, Wright. We were just following the law.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix leaned heavily against the wall. “I’ve read up on it, all of it. There was really no need for that kind of penalty.”

“You could always appeal.”

“I could,” Phoenix snarled. “And you could shut the fuck up,” with that Phoenix stood straight and hit the man who’d just spoken, sending him barrelling back into the woman. Both of them ended up in a heap on the floor. “Oh, yes,” Phoenix whooped. “Two with one blow.”

“Listen, dude,” said the only man still standing. “No one here thinks…”

But before he could finish, Phoenix had grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “No, you fucking listen. You need to get your friends, get anyone here who was on that fucking panel, and get the fuck out.”

“Your fucking boyfriend was on that panel,” said a voice behind him, the man he’d floored getting up.

As Phoenix turned he heard another voice saying, “Yes he was.” And there, helping the woman up from the floor, was Kristoph. Calmly he said, “Phoenix, I thought I’d made my point in the kitchen, but it seems I will have to explain further. Perhaps if you would accompany me to the bedroom. Do excuse us, gentlemen, lady.”

Phoenix turned towards the bedroom. The bedroom.


As Phoenix walked through the door to Kristoph’s bedroom, hopeful that Kristoph would convert his rage into a quick and nasty fuck - perhaps a taste of his belt for good measure - he was surprised to feel Kristoph’s hands firm on his upper arms, as he was propelled, not onto the bed, but through the glass panelled door into the ensuite bathroom..

“What are you doing?” said Phoenix, spinning around, as Kristoph closed the door behind him and lent up against it. His face livid with rage, red on his pale cheeks.

“You will,” Kristoph’s voice shook. “You will obey me, Phoenix.”

“I will if you tell me to bend over,” Phoenix said, in a voice that was practically a wink. “I know I’ve been terrible. I’m very drunk. You should really spank me first.”

“What?” Kristoph spat.

Phoenix shrugged. “Babe, why are we in here when your bed’s out there? Come on, fuck me. I thought this was a party.”

“Good god.” Kristoph stepped forward and slapped Phoenix around the face. Phoenix gasped, his hand leaping to his cheek. His dick instantly hard. “That’s your fucking answer to everything. Spreading your fucking legs.”

“Maybe it is.” Phoenix leant back against the wall, still nursing his face with one hand and lifted the hem of his shirt with the other, showing Kristoph a stripe of his belly. “Don’t you like it? You don’t hit me like that often enough, Kristoph. I miss it. Remember how we used to be. Remember when you took me to that club in Berlin and led me around like a dog then caned me on the stage.”

“Of course I remember,” Kristoph snarled. “It was one of the greatest nights of my life.”

Phoenix staggered closer and draped his arms around Kristoph’s neck. “See. Why don’t you send all those stuffed shirts home and come to bed. We could have Berlin right here.”

Kristoph shook Phoenix off. “You are drunk, you slut. As if I’d fuck you in this state. As if I’d want this Get off me. Stay right there. Stay. Don’t fucking move.”

“Okay, sir. What are you doing?”

Kristoph had turned. He was rummaging in the bathroom cabinet and, after a moment, brought out a pair of handcuffs, a length of chain and a padlock.”

Kristoph had chained Phoenix up in this bathroom as a punishment once before. It had not been pleasant. Phoenix had no idea Kristoph still had the means to do it on hand.

Phoenix looked at the handcuffs. “Kristoph, no.”

“I’m doing what I should have done right at the start of this party, before you made a spectacle of yourself. Turn around. Face the wall I’m going to handcuff you .”

“No. Not in here. Please. I’ve drunk too much for heavy stuff like this. I need to go to bed. Tie me to the bed if you want me out of the way, but don’t shut me in here, please.”

“It is not my intention that this be enjoyable for you. Now do as you are told. ” Kristoph grabbed at Phoenix and spun him around. Phoenix complied, too drunk to resist.

Slowly, reluctantly, Phoenix brought his hands around behind his back, leaning his forehead to the wall above the toilet to keep from wobbling. The cuffs were cold, but it still felt a little good when they snapped closed. Hard and cruel. Inescapable.

“Okay, that’s better,” Kristoph said as he turned Phoenix back to face him. “Now, come here. Sit down.” Kristoph helped Phoenix onto the floor, his back to the toilet bowl, and threaded the chain through the cuffs and around the base of the toilet. He closed the loop with the padlock.

Phoenix looked up at him. “Please Kristoph, you can’t leave me like this. What if I’m sick?”

“Then you’re in the right place,” Kristoph said, running his thin fingers over the links of the chain. Checking for any weak spots. When he was satisfied he leant in and kissed Phoenix’s forehead. “Phoenix, I just want to help you. You need to be controlled. You’ve shown that tonight.”

Phoenix nodded, feeling a soft calm settle onto him. “Yes sir,” he said. “Thank you.”

“That’s better,” said Kristoph, finding Phoenix’s dick through his suit pants. Phoenix moved helplessly into the touch, he couldn’t help it, Kristoph knew exactly what he liked. “There we are,” Kristoph cooed, grazing a thumb over the head of Phoenix’s dick. “I think someone has been fishing for some punishment all evening.”

“Kristoph, please,” Phoenix moaned, jerking his dick as Kristoph stroked him more firmly, increasing the rhythm. He pulled at the cuffs. It felt so good to be restrained like this. To be teased. To have no control.

Kristoph got him right to his edge before stopping. Prompting a, “Please sir, please,” and a clattering of metal against porcelain as Phoenix struggled not to lose the touch. But it was gone.

Kristoph patted Phoenix’s cheek. “Maybe I’ll come back and finish that later,” Kristoph said.

“When?” Phoenix bleated.

“Not long. Just long enough for you to calm down and sober up.”

“Kiss me first,” said Phoenix.

Kristoph bent over. He put a hand on Phoenix’s chin. “Kiss you?”

“Yes,” moaned Phoenix. “Please.”

Kristoph moved closer until his face was a breath away. Phoenix’s eyes closed. His lips quivered.

“Phoenix,” Kristoph whispered.

“Yes sir?”

“You stink. Of alcohol.”

And he was gone, snapping off the light and leaving Phoenix chained up in the dark.

He was gone a long time


Phoenix woke up. His head pounded and his mouth was achingly dry. He’d managed to sleep leaning his head against the tiled wall. Everything ached. His wrists throbbed in the handcuffs behind his back. The apartment seemed quiet. The party was over.

Then he realised what had woken him. The light was on. The bathroom door was open. Kristoph was standing there, staring at him.

Phoenix swallowed the bile in his mouth. “Kristoph please,” he croaked. “Take me to bed. I feel terrible.”

“As you deserve to.”

Phoenix tugged at his wrists. “Let me go now, Kristoph. I’m not in the mood.”

“Really?” Kristoph said, walking in and closing the door behind him. “Earlier I wasn’t in the mood to have you rubbing your backside all over me while I was trying to host a party.”

“I’m sorry about that, okay. I overdid it.”

“Just like you promised you wouldn’t.”

“I can’t talk to you about this while I’m chained up.”

“In that case, you’d better shut up about it. I brought you something.” From the floor beside the bath tub, Kristoph picked something up. A length of heavy chain.

Phoenix tried to focus. “What’s that?”

“It’s the choke chain. We’ve used it before.”

They had. The chain was a metal collar that looped back through itself. When it was on Phoenix’s neck and pulled it didn’t just tighten, the spikes in the links would pop out and dig into Phoenix’s skin too. It was impossible to fight against it with his hands restrained. It was exquisitely cruel, when Phoenix was in the mood for that kind of treatment. He was not in the mood right now.

“I don’t want that,” said Phoenix, looking at the collar.

“I don’t very much care what you want right now. Besides, I need to change your position and I don’t care for you fighting back,” Kristoph said as he slipped the collar around Phoenix’s neck. Phoenix hissed as he pulled it painfully tight.

“Change my position how?”

Kristoph sighed. “For someone who’s been insisting I fuck them all evening, you seem slow on the uptake.”

“Kristoph. No. Don’t.”

Kristoph’s response was to give the collar a hard pull and Phoenix’s breath went. He twisted his arms hopelessly in the cuffs, trying to get away from the pain of the spikes. “Yes,” said Kristoph, observing him casually, “that should do.”

With the collar taut, Kristoph unlocked the chain and heaved Phoenix over so he was leaning on the lid of the toilet bowl, face to the cistern. With a quick flick of his wrist he looped the end of the collar chain around the back of the toilet and padlocked it in place.

Phoenix struggled to look around at him. “You’re going to fuck me over the toilet.”

“It’s exactly what you deserve, you worthless, sloppy piece of shit,” Kristoph said, unfastening Phoenix’s pants and pulling them down along with his underwear. He touched Phoenix’s asshole casually, like he wanted to see what would happen.

What happened was Phoenix moaned, “Don’t. Kristoph. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t do what? This?” Kristoph said, ducking his head and licking Phoenix’s asshole.

“No,” Phoenix said, although it was half a gasp. “No. Get off me. Get off.”

He shook, squirmed around in the chains. Kristoph reached for the collar and pulled on it. Phoenix gasped. “Behave yourself, please,” Kristoph said. “Keep still.” He ducked down and gave Phoenix’s asshole another slow swish of his tongue, teasing around the rim, then a long flat lick. Kristoph knew how to get every nerve ending, every little quivering piece of needy flesh. “It’s seems at least part of you is still in the mood to get fucked,” Kristoph said, finishing his sentence by spitting on Phoenix’s asshole.

“Fuck’s sake,” Phoenix spluttered, still fighting to breathe. “You know you’re good at that.”


“No. Get off me.”

“As you prefer,” Kristoph said and instead, rubbed his thumb over Phoenix’s asshole.

“What are you doing now? Use some fucking lube if you’re going to do that at least.”

“I think not. I think you need to learn about life with a little less lubrication.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kristoph, that’ll hurt you as much as it hurts me.”

“You think so,” said Kristoph. Phoenix felt the thumb move away. It was replaced by something else. Not Kristoph’s dick or even his fingers. Put something cold. Something glass.

A bottle. A fucking grape juice bottle. Phoenix writhed. But he was very well secured to the toilet. Hadn’t he always loved the way Kristoph tied him up so competently? So neatly and securely with those long fingers, the same way he tied that ribbon around his neck every morning. Kristoph knew just what he was doing. “No, no,” Phoenix begged, trying to look around. To see Kristoph’s eyes. “No, please.”

“Huh. Interesting,” said Kristoph, applying a little more pressure to the bottle. Phoenix felt his body start to give around it. “You’re saying no for real, are you? You really don’t want this. I suppose even the most hopeless slut has his limits.” Another push. Another small painful stretch.

“I really don’t please. Stop. I don’t feel well. Please. You’re going to damage me. Really.”

Kristoph did not stop, did not move the bottle. Calmly he said, “You have a safeword, you know. Have you forgotten it? It’s vinegar.”

“Vinegar,” Phoenix blurted out, rattling the cuffs against the toilet bowl. “Fuck’s sake, Kristoph. Vinegar.”

“Huh,” said Kristoph, again pushing a little more on the bottle. Phoenix felt another sensation of his body giving in to it. He tried to tense up, but that hurt so much he started to shake. “Oh, no, no,” said Kristoph, stroking Phoenix’s flank. “Don’t do that or you really will get hurt. Imagine if it broke inside you.”

“Kristoph. I said ‘vinegar.’ Please.” There were tears prickling Phoenix’s eyes as he tried to relax against the bottle.

“Yes, you did. Such a shame you didn’t say that earlier. It’s too late now. I’m not listening.”

“What? Seriously?” Phoenix tried, but Kristoph really wasn’t listening. He pressed more firmly on the bottle, grunting with effort as he drove it hard into Phoenix. Phoenix screamed out, bracing his shoulders against the toilet cistern. His body put up a fight, but Kristoph was determined. He pushed harder and harder. The pain was searing. A long viscous burn that there was no escape from. Phoenix was sobbing and screaming, still trying to squirm away somehow, despite how he was pinned into position.

“There,” said Kristoph, when the bottle neck was right inside him. “You said you wanted to be taught a lesson. Perhaps this will suffice.”

“You fucking maniac,” Phoenix wailed. “Get that thing out of me.”

“As you desire,” Kristoph slowly drew the bottle out again with a slight twist. Angling it, tilting it just a little so the lip dragged over Phoenix’s prostate.

Phoenix stiffened at the horror of the wave of pleasure that brought. “No,” he said, more weakly. “No, don’t.”

“Please be quiet,” said Kristoph idly. “We don’t both have to suffer your headache.” Kristoph fucked the bottle in and out of Phoenix a few times, sighed idly like the sight of it was barely more than mildly diverting.

Phoenix thrashed in the handcuffs. The pain was still a twisted mess, but the pleasure was growing. He moaned. “Jesus. Please. Stop, Kristoph, stop.”

“In future, perhaps you will understand the consequences of not obeying me,” Kristoph said, nastily. Phoenix was sobbing, now, his dick fully hard, pressed into his belly. “Although it barely surprises me, actually, that a degenerate like you can find a way to enjoy this.”

“I’m not enjoying it,” Phoenix spat.

“No,” Kristoph reached between Phoenix’s legs and found his erection, teasing his fingers along it’s length.

“Don’t,” Phoenix pressed through his teeth.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do, Phoenix,” said Kristoph. He pulled his hand away, licked his palm and reapplied it, a fist, twisting around.

Phoenix moaned again. His head was spinning. He’d had no idea he was this close, but suddenly, with Kristoph’s hand there, he was panting. Kristoph made a soft noise of satisfaction. He twisted the bottle a little, increases the pressure on the sweet spot in Phoenix’s ass and leant close to his ear. His whisper had a cruel tone to it. It was tone that never failed to make Phoenix melt. “There, there, boy,” Kristoph said. “You know I can always make it good for you. Who else could do this to you. Who else could reduce you to this, even while you moan and cry that you don’t want it. Who else knows you like I do? Who else can do this to you?”

Kristoph increased the pressure, tightening his hand around Phoenix’s dick, as Phoenix moaned out, “No one. No one else, sir.”

“That’s fucking right,” Kristoph hissed.

Phoenix was shaking as Kristoph pulled the bottle free. Phoenix felt his ass empty for a moment. He felt so loose and broken. He whimpered. It seemed shameful to have this exposed so suddenly, but then Kristoph was on his back. Kristoph’s dick, lubed and warm, slipped into him, easily where he was so open.

“Oh god, sir, thank you,” Phoenix babbled out. He couldn’t help it. It felt so good. Finally. Finally.

Kristoph fucked him, quickly. Clearly his indifference to seeing Phoenix violated with the bottle had been feigned. He was as hard and close as Phoenix was himself. Kristoph fisted a hand in the choke chain and yanked it back, arched Phoenix up, his back plastered to Kristophs belly, his head forced onto Kristoph’s shoulder. The needles of the collar stabbed into his neck, his air was gone, Kristoph’s hand twisted around his dick and he was there, screaming, whiting out with an orgasm that seemed to shoot stars.

It wasn’t over. Kristoph shoved him back down to finish fucking him. He writhed as sensation returned, everything burning, every bit of pain he’d felt roaring back as Kristoph grunted and came inside him, fingers tight, bruising on his hips.

They lay there for a moment, curled together, panting hard, before slowly Kristoph stood.

“There,” he said. Phoenix didn’t look at him. “You can sleep in here, Wright,” he said as he left the bathroom.