[ This sounds like bullshit. This doesn't even sound like good, manipulative bullshit, either - this just sounds like the coddling of a horny teenage boy who just wants to fuck and be fucked. Derek thins his mouth, pressing his lips together, eyes flicking from the toy in Tate's hand and back to his face. His dom's face? Jesus, that's unpleasant. A power dynamic so tilted and obscured by how things should be that he's not sure how to feel - power comes and goes in waves, he knows that better than anyone, he has that tattooed on his fucking back, but it's...
It's hard. This is hard.
But the realization that this is difficult has a weird kind of affect on Derek - this all just feels so pointless, like holding onto his dignity and his bad mood and digging his heels into the sheets isn't going to do anything in the face of a truly fucking ludicrous situation. His bad mood breaks a little and he kind of laughs, anxiety leaving him in one strong wave. "Show me how to be a good dom by being a good sub", Jesus. How far they've both fallen into corruption since Tate screamed in his face in orientation. ]
Christ, you're the worst.
[ But fine - fine. He drapes his other arm over his eyes and lets his legs part at Tate's touch, purposefully trying not to see the way Tate strokes the thing, his stupid ass body betraying him by getting kind of hard. Tate didn't appeal to him the way he might have wanted to - but the fact that he tried, that's what won Derek over. That's what reminded Derek why he trusts this kid, as foolish of a decision as that might be. ]
Okay, just - fine. What do you want me to do? Keeping in mind that I am twice your size. You're not going to be difficult to snap in half.
[He ends up laughing because he knows that didn't sound at all convincing, but he's still trying to emulate the Derek he's seen and the dom he's supposed to be. He's got a slick vibrator in the palm of his hand and wet fingertips that tease down between Derek's legs to feel up toward his hole, massaging lube against it before the curved edge of the toy's there to take over. He holds steady to the flared base, and gently applies pressure. He's clumsy with his motions in general, but he's - trying to stay steady, firm with the press forward that nudges into Derek and his eyes flick up to stare at his half covered face to watch for any sign of discomfort.]
[ It's-- still kind of difficult for Derek to bottom, on a purely psychological standpoint. It's happened once or twice with Tate, and while it's kind of an impossible secret to keep that he fucking loves this feeling, it's still hard for him to bare his throat to someone else, so to speak. The nerves in his body jolt when he feels the cool, slick touch of Tate's fingers, and he exhales, shaky, when he feels the head of the vibrator in their place.
His cock twitches, still only half-hard, a small bead of pre leaking from his tip as Tate eases the toy forward. Derek's still tight and not entirely ready for something this big, and he curls his toes in the sheets, pressing his arm tighter against his eyes until he sees spots. ]
[He doesn't expect Derek to stop him for a variety of reasons - he assumes Derek would believe he can take it, no matter what. And he doesn't want to call out a weakness he doesn't want to showcase, so why would he admit that? Tate's careful with still pushing the toy forward, easing up a little then pulsing forward again with a motion that's trying to loosen Derek up by toying with the first inch of him that Tate's able to get him spread. It's actually something that takes a studious amount of attention for Tate, so his head drops and he just - focuses on what he's doing, nudging Derek's legs to part further and continuing until he sees gradual progress.]
If it helps... this thing was in me before. Think about that? I had to work up to getting it in me too. And you made me keep it in me for a while - I liked that, even though I hated you for it. I think that was the horniest you've ever made me.
[Tate's talking in slow, low toned words - trying to get Derek more aroused, to get his dick rigid and his mind into the game. He wants to see Derek's hips rock, to have him want to be full the way Tate's learned to like this feeling himself.]
[ Yeah, Derek's not gonna tell Tate shit. He bites the inside of his cheek and drops his arm to his side, already starting to sweat - he frowns like he's annoyed when Tate guides his legs again, though he obediently moves to give him more space, and he leans heavily on his elbow, propping himself up with it. He's-- not really looking at anything, until Tate starts talking again, the heat crawling up from his chest and his neck and making his stomach drop. ]
Ah - fuck. Shut up.
[ He doesn't mean that. He doesn't want Tate to shut up. The dirty talk is going straight to his cock, getting him harder and harder, one hard twitch enough to get him fully erect. He swallows, and - if they were in opposite positions, he'd be able to say something back, he'd be able to talk about how good Tate looks all slutty and ready for him, but it's hard to think about anything other than the filling, perfect stretch of his ass. Derek isn't rocking his hips yet - but it won't be long. ]
[It took him some time to get used to the sexting, the nudes - and using technology to enhance a fuck's been pretty interesting so far. Phone sex was one of the easiest elements for him, the most familiar tech wise, so he has a preference. He's been thinking more and more about what things to say, and how, and what riles Derek up in particular. He nudges the toy in farther, working it in almost to the base.]
Whenever I talk about the things I want you to do to me, I know it makes you hard. Talking about how I need you, or I want you... Or how once I get you whining for me, I'm gonna ride you? It works, right? Look at you.
[Tate pushes harder on the toy, stretching Derek open a little more forceful- nearing the flared base's relief. He pushes to the point of it and past, waiting for the feeling of Derek flexing around it so that he can use one hand to cup him by the cock and start jerking him off.]
[ Practicing - that could mean a dozen different things, and Derek's too out of it, too distracted, to know how any single one of them might make him feel. He swallows, getting harder, every impulse in his body telling him to wrap his fist around himself and start stroking - but he doesn't, even as his fingers itch at his sides and want for more. Tate pushes and he pushes and he pushes and Derek does his best not to make a noise, but when that last final inch stretches him open, Derek makes one tiny, single grunt, the last shreds of his resistance breaking. ]
No. No, fuck-- fuck that. I'll let 'em punish me. I'm not gonna get through three hours of this.
[ He loves this feeling. Fucking adores it. Being pushed to his limits, overwhelmed, every sensitive nerve in his body feeling like it's on fire. He can barely remember how to swallow, barely remember how to breathe - his chest is rising and falling like he's close to hyperventilating, his abs are tense and flexing involuntarily, his hands are stretching and shrinking as he grabs and ungrabs the air, the sheets, anything. He draws one knee up an inch or two, as high as he can with the full length of this thing inside him, digging his heel into the mattress and shutting his eyes tight. It's such a sudden, immense change, brought on by the warm, welcoming touch of Tate's hand around his dick - but it's obvious he's been holding back. He's always so fucking overwhelmed like this.
Fuck. He swears, shaking his head fast, one sharp motion. ]
Gotta-- gotta take it easy. Gonna come if you keep saying shit like that. Okay?
[But Tate's not exactly so sure - they have to try, right? He grabs for his phone with slippery fingers, starting the timer after a little trial end error and leaves the phone up by the pillows so it can do the hard job of keeping track while Tate straightens up onto his knees and surveys Derek. His hand pulls away from his cock, and he just... watches. Watches him squirm and flex, half a smile frozen on his lips. No wonder Derek liked being in this position, watching and in control.
He picks up the remote, stroking his thumb over the dial but not yet turning it on. There's just a moment of pause, but then Tate's crawling back up off the bed and onto his feet - heading back to that trunk to absently look through it. Letting Derek sit, waiting and fighting his own instincts.]
Three hours is easy. Ish.
[He turns the dial on to low. Smirks to himself as he bends down nonchalantly, looking through the trunk for something.]
[ Gonna kick this guy's ass in a minute. All Derek has to do here is relax, but that's so much easier said than done - it's been a while since he's done this and he's kind of pent up, which would be difficult to deal with even if he and Tate were just-- hooking up normally. This is already a lot. He feels a little humiliated when Tate just leaves him there, taking his hand back and crawling off the bed - he was this close to grinding up into Tate's palm, and now he just feels stupid for getting so into this so quickly.
He swallows and stares up at the ceiling, managing his breathing and giving himself what little of a break he can - and when Tate touches that dial, Derek's not expecting it. The vibration takes him by surprise, buzzing right against his prostate, and he makes this unflattering noise that's just this short of loud. He moans, throwing his head back and arching his back, hips rising a little from the bed, and he shuts his eyes, biting down on his cheek to stop himself from making any more sounds. ]
[This part is just petty, and Tate shoots a look to Derek to say as much - smirking as he fondles the remote and pulls a few things from the chest. He goes back toward the bed, dropping them by the foot of it and kneels back down - crawling back between Derek's legs, bracing his hand against the muscle of his thigh in the process. He lifts up a leather strap and gestures to Derek's hands.]
I know this won't hold you but we can at least say we tried. Give me your hands?
[ This is wildly unfair. The part of Derek that fears losing his power, losing his-- status, be it as Alpha, as Dom, as whatever the fuck else, that part of him is struggling a little with all of this. By giving Derek a taste of his own medicine, it feels, to an extent, like all that energy Derek's put into making himself this firm and untouchable badass was kind of pointless. He can't predict what Tate's going to do next, and that makes him feel pretty fucking vulnerable.
He's still swinging back and forth between whether that's a good thing or not. ]
No. Fuck off.
[ Derek says that, but he reluctantly offers his arms to Tate, swallowing and squeezing tight around the toy, a shiver running down his spine. He wants to beat Tate's ass. That's what he wants. Whether he likes this feeling or not, he's gonna kick this dude's ass. He's gonna get such a fuckin' ass-kicking, mark Derek's words. ]
You can snap out of it if it feels too much. I know you can - jesus, I think I could snap out of these things if I really wanted to.
[Tate's talking about the vinyl straps - thin pieces he wraps around Derek's wrists, binding them together. He needs to think about it, winding them around before buckling the ends together. There's a tiny bit of stretch in the shiny plastic but it could be more comfortable - Tate should've found a way to attach cuffs to the floor by now, but that's just another reno for another day.]
[ Yeah - Derek's not a fan of this. Tate binds his wrists together and even though it feels like one hard flex would be enough to undo the whole thing, the idea of restriction alone makes his stomach twist. Derek doesn't complain, only raises his arms above his head to rest them more comfortably on the pillow behind him, but it's obvious that he wants to when he snaps at Tate for joking about a blindfold. ]
'Course it's fucking pushing it.
[ But - he wets his lips, not really sure what to say. He's getting punished for not being a good sub, after all - following the rules doesn't come easy for him, and if Tate wants to give him a rule or two that might push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable, Derek knows that that wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, strictly speaking. Tate's gotta learn to fill his role here just like Derek does, even if the sadistic little shit doesn't seem like he needs much help with it. ]
You're supposed to be in charge, though. So. Do what you want.
[Tate asks quietly, though he's still uncertain himself. His hand strokes down Derek's thigh again, and he drops his gaze to his cock - reaching for it, fingers curling around its girth and giving a tentative pump. He knows what he's used to doing - what he thinks of, in this moment, because he either wants to get off or to get Derek off. Tate's been able to pick up a few skills and a lot of experience pleasuring people here because that's how you get ahead - by giving it. So as he jerks Derek off slowly, he considers his options.
This isn't supposed to be about getting Derek to come, though. Quite the opposite - so Tate tries to put his mind to what he's supposed to be leading here. He can tie Derek up all pretty and helpless but it's all aesthetics. He wets his lip, picking up the blindfold, just as shiny a vinyl as the rest of it and he crawls forward to straddle Derek's midsection. Looking down at him, he puts the mask on - letting it sit against Derek's forehead, asking to be lowered over his eyes.]
Try and - just try and go with it?
[He lowers the blindfold to put Derek in darkness.]
[ The more Tate touches him, the more difficult it is for him to think clearly. He winces and sucks in a breath, less like he's hurt or uncomfortable and more like he's just-- adjusting to a change in temperature. It's willpower alone that has Derek staying flushed to the sheets, even though the ghost of physical contact around his cock again has him frustratingly hard again. Tate says he doesn't know what he wants and Derek barely manages to think through his response. ]
I can't tell you. You have to figure this out. Take control.
[ His voice is surprisingly stable, given how overloaded he feels. He nods, mildly uncomfortable when Tate gets the blindfold on his forehead, though not enough to stop, flexing and unflexing his hands again as the world goes dark. His other senses, already heightened, seem all the more sensitive. He can hear every rustle in the sheets, every beat of Tate's new heart. He stretches his legs straight, trying to stay comfortable, more and more pre running from his cock, giving away that despite all his anxiety, despite the callous casualness in his voice, there is a submissive part of him that likes this. ]
But I enjoy... having you in the position I'm in now... for a few reasons. I can talk to you about them... if you think it would help you figure out what you want.
[Tate's voice is quiet but hopeful, and his body's weight shifts. He's up on his knees again, off of Derek's abdomen, so he can push down his boxers. The fabric, thin cotton, glides down his thighs and stretches across Derek's chest as Tate settles back and seats himself over Derek's cock - letting it rest up against his ass as he gets his boxers the rest of the way off and tossed aside.
He finds the moment - strangely isolating, because he's taken away the two things that connect him to Derek in moments like these. His hands, the touch of warm connection and his eyes - what Tate uses to read Derek's expressions, his likes or dislikes. He's suddenly undermined his own confidence, his legs splayed to either side of Derek's chest and his hands on his thighs as he sits forward and gets back on his knees.
Reaching behind him, Tate grasps Derek's cock - feeling the pre smeared over it, fingers dancing around the tip as his heart hammers against his chest. He's waiting to hear what Derek has to say, but he's already keen on what he might want his next step to be.]
[ Some unconscious part of Derek fills in the sights he can't see. He can picture Tate taking the last of his clothes off and his dick twitches with one sharp feeling of want, his tongue darting briefly between his lips, dry and cracked as they are. He's not taken by surprise when he feels weight resting against him, but being blindfolded like this gives everything more substance - the softness of Tate's skin, the slightness of his frame, the nimble dexterity of his fingers as they touch the sensitive curves of his head. Derek exhales, lips parted, unconsciously more expressive like this than he ever is without a blindfold. He looks wrecked already.
But he keeps his voice calm. ]
I like... being able to take care of you... when you're submissive for me. Everything you feel - pleasure, frustration, a need to be touched, fucked, kissed, anything - that's all because of me. I get to... be the one to make you feel good. I have ownership over-- how you feel, in any given moment.
[ Derek angles his head - he can't see anything other than a grey-ish black wall of fabric, but he can see blurs of shapes and lights where Tate should be. He swallows and tilts his chin up, looking where he thinks Tate's eyes might be. ]
You're mine, when you're like this. I don't have to share you with... whoever you're dating, or... whoever you're friends with. You belong to me, for a while. You exist - solely for me. Nobody else. I like that feeling.
[ Derek likes having people. Possessing them. Few, if any, as explicitly as Tate. ]
[Tate breathes out the words, goosebumps spreading across his skin - he likes that position too, the comfort of being cared for and knowing that there's trust well put in Derek to do whatever he needs to do to be there for him. He likes this position too, proving he can offer what Derek wants or needs as well, hopefully convincing him that he's trustworthy after giving so many reasons to doubt him in the past. The possessiveness is just a bonus, because he feels that too - he always does, when he gets close to people. Tate wants to be their world.
He works Derek's cock up between his cheeks, lowering himself onto him with a slow and steady stretch. He's tight, always is when they start this, but he's more practiced now with how to get through that by continuing. He feels Derek's cock split him open and keeps lowering himself, thighs trembling and his voice a caught garble of noise in his throat. His heart's picked up, giving away the strain and focus, and Tate's hands slip to brace himself against Derek's stomach.]
You can do anything you want to me, whenever you want. Just so you know that.
[ Derek had privately hoped they'd go this far, but he wasn't sure it would actually happen. Tate's so fucking tight, just like always, making Derek's breathing come ragged, blood coursing through his body and filing him with adrenaline. He swallows a few times, tries to keep his composure, but he can't help it when he slowly pushes his hips upwards, driving into Tate half inch by half inch, the weight and the heat of him so much more real without sight. ]
I... I mean.
[ He's gonna make a joke, it's there in his voice. Derek gestures with his hands, feebly prying his hands away from each other with a shallow fraction of his strength, making sure to keep his wrists bound together. Can't exactly do anything he wants to Tate right now, can he? ]
[Touche. Tate doesn't laugh but he's amused as he sinks lower, taking more of Derek into him before lifting back just a little to adjust. It's still a lot to take, but after a few strained seconds of adjustment, muscles flexing, he sits flush against Derek's hips and gyrates his hips ever so gently in a clock wise circle. His exhale is relieved, and Derek might not be able to see his smile but he can likely tell that it's there.]
Or you can tell me what you want to do to me. Or have me do to you.
[Another roll of his hips, and he's lifting up - just to sink back down, nice and slow.]
[ Derek just-- makes a noise, halfway between pleasure and frustration, rather than respond to Tate right away. His face is twisted into this needy, blind expression, unabashedly aroused when it isn't clearly annoyed. He doesn't want to wait three hours, he's not gonna last that long. Already, he wants to fuck Tate with all the strength he has, and it's a very, very thin layer of willpower that has him keeping his wrists tied together. ]
Thought you were supposed to be learning how to be a good Dom.
[ Tate should be the one telling him what he wants, Tate should be the one leading things - but Derek doesn't care enough about staying submissive to do more than make fun of him a little. On the contrary, he's gonna test the waters, now - see what he can get away with, see how much he'll be allowed to top from the bottom. If Tate still just wants to be controlled and led, Derek's more than willing to do that, and he's too blindly horny to give a shit about how that kind of powerplay might bite them in the ass one day.
With one hard snap of his hips, Derek fucks into Tate and buries himself in him, sharp and close to painful. He groans, gritting his teeth and talking through them, sweat on his neck. ]
[Derek thrusts up and Tate lets out a gasp, arching his back to ride it and falling back - hands against Derek's thighs to brace with a nervous squeeze of his fingers against the muscle. He's supposed to be dominant right now and Derek's calling him out, so it's a foggy maze in his head as to what to do next. But he has an idea with a sidelong look, before breathing in deep.]
Then go faster.
[He murmurs, ready to move with Derek - but also, in that same moment, clicking the dial of the vibrator up another notch.]
[ That brief window of smug, controlled satisfaction Derek earns for himself doesn't last for long, but fuck, it's good while it does. Hearing Tate gasp, feeling him tighten - it's fucking amazing, and Derek grins, teeth sharp and white, lifting his chin in a challenging, cocky tilt. Tate tells him to go faster but Derek can tell that his heart is racing, he can hear him try to even himself out. He doesn't see what's coming next.
The dial twists and Derek's grin falters, a strangled moan dying in his throat as he drops his head back. It's-- still not at full blast, but it's well past what he's adjusted to, and when Derek clenches down, he only makes it worse for himself. He bites down on his teeth again, hissing in air, closing his eyes behind the blindfold. ]
Telling-- telling me to shut my mouth doesn't make you a dom.
[ Derek's voice comes watery and hesitant, but he clears his throat halfway through, trying to sound stronger by the end. If he wanted to be a good sub, he'd melt a little, drop away, act like he can't follow a simple order - but Derek just wants to come, now more than ever, and he's gonna challenge Tate's authority to get there. He leans the backs of his hands against the headboard for support and steadily starts to find a rhythm, grinding up into Tate - he stays pretty deep even after pulling out a little, not having been given enough room here to really fuck, but he's moving faster, getting what he wants, even as the intensity of all this starts making it hard for him to think clearly. ]
[Tate's breath is shallow and he's riding what Derek's giving him, working himself against the lifts of his hips - feeling him stay deep but still grind and shift, working against his body in a way that makes Tate's toes curl. His knees dig into the mattress and he holds on tight to the remote, thumb ready on the dial but the rest of his body fighting to stay present in the moment. He could come from this, like this, with just a little more time and effort and Tate's head is blank when it comes to how to decide what to do next. So he keeps riding Derek, lifting and falling against him, before sitting flush and breathing in deep.]
Three hours. You have to - make it three hours without coming.
[Tate's finger slides against the dial, the vibration decreases. He stays seated on Derek, weight pushing down, his body flexing and tight around Derek's cock but not letting him move. Tate's staring at his face, obscured by the mask, and he strokes himself absently.]
[ Derek fights off that three hours bullshit with the hardest thrust of his hips yet, burying in deep and staying there, stretching Tate out with every inch of him. Yeah, throwing the three hour thing into this was his idea, but-- they're close to the full moon and it was a stupid idea to try this now, when Derek's grip on himself is as tenuous as it can ever be. He's not gonna listen.
Tate starts moving with him, he decreases the fucking vibration, and Derek's happy again, grinning wide. He picks up the pace, gets a little frantic and off-rhythm, which is kind of new for him - he fucks Tate in fast, sloppy, unpracticed thrusts, chasing after Tate every time he moves away and welcoming him back when he drops against him again, and when Tate starts to sink down, locking him in place, Derek does his best to keep fighting. He flexes his hands around the vinyl binding his wrists together, close to just-- breaking the thing so he can put his hands on Tate's ass and get him moving again.
But Tate successfully pins him in place and Derek huffs, frustrated, laying where he is and doing his absolute fucking best to not bring out the werewolf strength and do what he wants. He darts his tongue between his lips and opens his eyes again, staring at the masked shadow that would be Tate, if the blindfold didn't obscure his vision. Reluctantly, he does as he's told, parting his lips - but he's impatient, and if this isn't worth it, he's gonna go back to doing what he wants to do. ]
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It's hard. This is hard.
But the realization that this is difficult has a weird kind of affect on Derek - this all just feels so pointless, like holding onto his dignity and his bad mood and digging his heels into the sheets isn't going to do anything in the face of a truly fucking ludicrous situation. His bad mood breaks a little and he kind of laughs, anxiety leaving him in one strong wave. "Show me how to be a good dom by being a good sub", Jesus. How far they've both fallen into corruption since Tate screamed in his face in orientation. ]
Christ, you're the worst.
[ But fine - fine. He drapes his other arm over his eyes and lets his legs part at Tate's touch, purposefully trying not to see the way Tate strokes the thing, his stupid ass body betraying him by getting kind of hard. Tate didn't appeal to him the way he might have wanted to - but the fact that he tried, that's what won Derek over. That's what reminded Derek why he trusts this kid, as foolish of a decision as that might be. ]
Okay, just - fine. What do you want me to do? Keeping in mind that I am twice your size. You're not going to be difficult to snap in half.
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[He ends up laughing because he knows that didn't sound at all convincing, but he's still trying to emulate the Derek he's seen and the dom he's supposed to be. He's got a slick vibrator in the palm of his hand and wet fingertips that tease down between Derek's legs to feel up toward his hole, massaging lube against it before the curved edge of the toy's there to take over. He holds steady to the flared base, and gently applies pressure. He's clumsy with his motions in general, but he's - trying to stay steady, firm with the press forward that nudges into Derek and his eyes flick up to stare at his half covered face to watch for any sign of discomfort.]
That feel okay? Does it hurt?
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His cock twitches, still only half-hard, a small bead of pre leaking from his tip as Tate eases the toy forward. Derek's still tight and not entirely ready for something this big, and he curls his toes in the sheets, pressing his arm tighter against his eyes until he sees spots. ]
I-- yeah. Slower. Easy.
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[He doesn't expect Derek to stop him for a variety of reasons - he assumes Derek would believe he can take it, no matter what. And he doesn't want to call out a weakness he doesn't want to showcase, so why would he admit that? Tate's careful with still pushing the toy forward, easing up a little then pulsing forward again with a motion that's trying to loosen Derek up by toying with the first inch of him that Tate's able to get him spread. It's actually something that takes a studious amount of attention for Tate, so his head drops and he just - focuses on what he's doing, nudging Derek's legs to part further and continuing until he sees gradual progress.]
If it helps... this thing was in me before. Think about that? I had to work up to getting it in me too. And you made me keep it in me for a while - I liked that, even though I hated you for it. I think that was the horniest you've ever made me.
[Tate's talking in slow, low toned words - trying to get Derek more aroused, to get his dick rigid and his mind into the game. He wants to see Derek's hips rock, to have him want to be full the way Tate's learned to like this feeling himself.]
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Ah - fuck. Shut up.
[ He doesn't mean that. He doesn't want Tate to shut up. The dirty talk is going straight to his cock, getting him harder and harder, one hard twitch enough to get him fully erect. He swallows, and - if they were in opposite positions, he'd be able to say something back, he'd be able to talk about how good Tate looks all slutty and ready for him, but it's hard to think about anything other than the filling, perfect stretch of his ass. Derek isn't rocking his hips yet - but it won't be long. ]
Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?
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[It took him some time to get used to the sexting, the nudes - and using technology to enhance a fuck's been pretty interesting so far. Phone sex was one of the easiest elements for him, the most familiar tech wise, so he has a preference. He's been thinking more and more about what things to say, and how, and what riles Derek up in particular. He nudges the toy in farther, working it in almost to the base.]
Whenever I talk about the things I want you to do to me, I know it makes you hard. Talking about how I need you, or I want you... Or how once I get you whining for me, I'm gonna ride you? It works, right? Look at you.
[Tate pushes harder on the toy, stretching Derek open a little more forceful- nearing the flared base's relief. He pushes to the point of it and past, waiting for the feeling of Derek flexing around it so that he can use one hand to cup him by the cock and start jerking him off.]
Remember - you can't come 'til I tell you.
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No. No, fuck-- fuck that. I'll let 'em punish me. I'm not gonna get through three hours of this.
[ He loves this feeling. Fucking adores it. Being pushed to his limits, overwhelmed, every sensitive nerve in his body feeling like it's on fire. He can barely remember how to swallow, barely remember how to breathe - his chest is rising and falling like he's close to hyperventilating, his abs are tense and flexing involuntarily, his hands are stretching and shrinking as he grabs and ungrabs the air, the sheets, anything. He draws one knee up an inch or two, as high as he can with the full length of this thing inside him, digging his heel into the mattress and shutting his eyes tight. It's such a sudden, immense change, brought on by the warm, welcoming touch of Tate's hand around his dick - but it's obvious he's been holding back. He's always so fucking overwhelmed like this.
Fuck. He swears, shaking his head fast, one sharp motion. ]
Gotta-- gotta take it easy. Gonna come if you keep saying shit like that. Okay?
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[But Tate's not exactly so sure - they have to try, right? He grabs for his phone with slippery fingers, starting the timer after a little trial end error and leaves the phone up by the pillows so it can do the hard job of keeping track while Tate straightens up onto his knees and surveys Derek. His hand pulls away from his cock, and he just... watches. Watches him squirm and flex, half a smile frozen on his lips. No wonder Derek liked being in this position, watching and in control.
He picks up the remote, stroking his thumb over the dial but not yet turning it on. There's just a moment of pause, but then Tate's crawling back up off the bed and onto his feet - heading back to that trunk to absently look through it. Letting Derek sit, waiting and fighting his own instincts.]
Three hours is easy. Ish.
[He turns the dial on to low. Smirks to himself as he bends down nonchalantly, looking through the trunk for something.]
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[ Gonna kick this guy's ass in a minute. All Derek has to do here is relax, but that's so much easier said than done - it's been a while since he's done this and he's kind of pent up, which would be difficult to deal with even if he and Tate were just-- hooking up normally. This is already a lot. He feels a little humiliated when Tate just leaves him there, taking his hand back and crawling off the bed - he was this close to grinding up into Tate's palm, and now he just feels stupid for getting so into this so quickly.
He swallows and stares up at the ceiling, managing his breathing and giving himself what little of a break he can - and when Tate touches that dial, Derek's not expecting it. The vibration takes him by surprise, buzzing right against his prostate, and he makes this unflattering noise that's just this short of loud. He moans, throwing his head back and arching his back, hips rising a little from the bed, and he shuts his eyes, biting down on his cheek to stop himself from making any more sounds. ]
Wait-- jesus. Fuck. Warn me next time.
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[This part is just petty, and Tate shoots a look to Derek to say as much - smirking as he fondles the remote and pulls a few things from the chest. He goes back toward the bed, dropping them by the foot of it and kneels back down - crawling back between Derek's legs, bracing his hand against the muscle of his thigh in the process. He lifts up a leather strap and gestures to Derek's hands.]
I know this won't hold you but we can at least say we tried. Give me your hands?
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He's still swinging back and forth between whether that's a good thing or not. ]
No. Fuck off.
[ Derek says that, but he reluctantly offers his arms to Tate, swallowing and squeezing tight around the toy, a shiver running down his spine. He wants to beat Tate's ass. That's what he wants. Whether he likes this feeling or not, he's gonna kick this dude's ass. He's gonna get such a fuckin' ass-kicking, mark Derek's words. ]
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[Tate's talking about the vinyl straps - thin pieces he wraps around Derek's wrists, binding them together. He needs to think about it, winding them around before buckling the ends together. There's a tiny bit of stretch in the shiny plastic but it could be more comfortable - Tate should've found a way to attach cuffs to the floor by now, but that's just another reno for another day.]
Blindfold's pushing it, right? Okay - okay, nevermind.
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'Course it's fucking pushing it.
[ But - he wets his lips, not really sure what to say. He's getting punished for not being a good sub, after all - following the rules doesn't come easy for him, and if Tate wants to give him a rule or two that might push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable, Derek knows that that wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, strictly speaking. Tate's gotta learn to fill his role here just like Derek does, even if the sadistic little shit doesn't seem like he needs much help with it. ]
You're supposed to be in charge, though. So. Do what you want.
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[Tate asks quietly, though he's still uncertain himself. His hand strokes down Derek's thigh again, and he drops his gaze to his cock - reaching for it, fingers curling around its girth and giving a tentative pump. He knows what he's used to doing - what he thinks of, in this moment, because he either wants to get off or to get Derek off. Tate's been able to pick up a few skills and a lot of experience pleasuring people here because that's how you get ahead - by giving it. So as he jerks Derek off slowly, he considers his options.
This isn't supposed to be about getting Derek to come, though. Quite the opposite - so Tate tries to put his mind to what he's supposed to be leading here. He can tie Derek up all pretty and helpless but it's all aesthetics. He wets his lip, picking up the blindfold, just as shiny a vinyl as the rest of it and he crawls forward to straddle Derek's midsection. Looking down at him, he puts the mask on - letting it sit against Derek's forehead, asking to be lowered over his eyes.]
Try and - just try and go with it?
[He lowers the blindfold to put Derek in darkness.]
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I can't tell you. You have to figure this out. Take control.
[ His voice is surprisingly stable, given how overloaded he feels. He nods, mildly uncomfortable when Tate gets the blindfold on his forehead, though not enough to stop, flexing and unflexing his hands again as the world goes dark. His other senses, already heightened, seem all the more sensitive. He can hear every rustle in the sheets, every beat of Tate's new heart. He stretches his legs straight, trying to stay comfortable, more and more pre running from his cock, giving away that despite all his anxiety, despite the callous casualness in his voice, there is a submissive part of him that likes this. ]
But I enjoy... having you in the position I'm in now... for a few reasons. I can talk to you about them... if you think it would help you figure out what you want.
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[Tate's voice is quiet but hopeful, and his body's weight shifts. He's up on his knees again, off of Derek's abdomen, so he can push down his boxers. The fabric, thin cotton, glides down his thighs and stretches across Derek's chest as Tate settles back and seats himself over Derek's cock - letting it rest up against his ass as he gets his boxers the rest of the way off and tossed aside.
He finds the moment - strangely isolating, because he's taken away the two things that connect him to Derek in moments like these. His hands, the touch of warm connection and his eyes - what Tate uses to read Derek's expressions, his likes or dislikes. He's suddenly undermined his own confidence, his legs splayed to either side of Derek's chest and his hands on his thighs as he sits forward and gets back on his knees.
Reaching behind him, Tate grasps Derek's cock - feeling the pre smeared over it, fingers dancing around the tip as his heart hammers against his chest. He's waiting to hear what Derek has to say, but he's already keen on what he might want his next step to be.]
Tell me.
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But he keeps his voice calm. ]
I like... being able to take care of you... when you're submissive for me. Everything you feel - pleasure, frustration, a need to be touched, fucked, kissed, anything - that's all because of me. I get to... be the one to make you feel good. I have ownership over-- how you feel, in any given moment.
[ Derek angles his head - he can't see anything other than a grey-ish black wall of fabric, but he can see blurs of shapes and lights where Tate should be. He swallows and tilts his chin up, looking where he thinks Tate's eyes might be. ]
You're mine, when you're like this. I don't have to share you with... whoever you're dating, or... whoever you're friends with. You belong to me, for a while. You exist - solely for me. Nobody else. I like that feeling.
[ Derek likes having people. Possessing them. Few, if any, as explicitly as Tate. ]
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[Tate breathes out the words, goosebumps spreading across his skin - he likes that position too, the comfort of being cared for and knowing that there's trust well put in Derek to do whatever he needs to do to be there for him. He likes this position too, proving he can offer what Derek wants or needs as well, hopefully convincing him that he's trustworthy after giving so many reasons to doubt him in the past. The possessiveness is just a bonus, because he feels that too - he always does, when he gets close to people. Tate wants to be their world.
He works Derek's cock up between his cheeks, lowering himself onto him with a slow and steady stretch. He's tight, always is when they start this, but he's more practiced now with how to get through that by continuing. He feels Derek's cock split him open and keeps lowering himself, thighs trembling and his voice a caught garble of noise in his throat. His heart's picked up, giving away the strain and focus, and Tate's hands slip to brace himself against Derek's stomach.]
You can do anything you want to me, whenever you want. Just so you know that.
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I... I mean.
[ He's gonna make a joke, it's there in his voice. Derek gestures with his hands, feebly prying his hands away from each other with a shallow fraction of his strength, making sure to keep his wrists bound together. Can't exactly do anything he wants to Tate right now, can he? ]
Dumb thing to say.
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Or you can tell me what you want to do to me. Or have me do to you.
[Another roll of his hips, and he's lifting up - just to sink back down, nice and slow.]
And in three hours? You can come. Great, right?
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Thought you were supposed to be learning how to be a good Dom.
[ Tate should be the one telling him what he wants, Tate should be the one leading things - but Derek doesn't care enough about staying submissive to do more than make fun of him a little. On the contrary, he's gonna test the waters, now - see what he can get away with, see how much he'll be allowed to top from the bottom. If Tate still just wants to be controlled and led, Derek's more than willing to do that, and he's too blindly horny to give a shit about how that kind of powerplay might bite them in the ass one day.
With one hard snap of his hips, Derek fucks into Tate and buries himself in him, sharp and close to painful. He groans, gritting his teeth and talking through them, sweat on his neck. ]
Faster.
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[Derek thrusts up and Tate lets out a gasp, arching his back to ride it and falling back - hands against Derek's thighs to brace with a nervous squeeze of his fingers against the muscle. He's supposed to be dominant right now and Derek's calling him out, so it's a foggy maze in his head as to what to do next. But he has an idea with a sidelong look, before breathing in deep.]
Then go faster.
[He murmurs, ready to move with Derek - but also, in that same moment, clicking the dial of the vibrator up another notch.]
If you can.
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The dial twists and Derek's grin falters, a strangled moan dying in his throat as he drops his head back. It's-- still not at full blast, but it's well past what he's adjusted to, and when Derek clenches down, he only makes it worse for himself. He bites down on his teeth again, hissing in air, closing his eyes behind the blindfold. ]
Telling-- telling me to shut my mouth doesn't make you a dom.
[ Derek's voice comes watery and hesitant, but he clears his throat halfway through, trying to sound stronger by the end. If he wanted to be a good sub, he'd melt a little, drop away, act like he can't follow a simple order - but Derek just wants to come, now more than ever, and he's gonna challenge Tate's authority to get there. He leans the backs of his hands against the headboard for support and steadily starts to find a rhythm, grinding up into Tate - he stays pretty deep even after pulling out a little, not having been given enough room here to really fuck, but he's moving faster, getting what he wants, even as the intensity of all this starts making it hard for him to think clearly. ]
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[Tate's breath is shallow and he's riding what Derek's giving him, working himself against the lifts of his hips - feeling him stay deep but still grind and shift, working against his body in a way that makes Tate's toes curl. His knees dig into the mattress and he holds on tight to the remote, thumb ready on the dial but the rest of his body fighting to stay present in the moment. He could come from this, like this, with just a little more time and effort and Tate's head is blank when it comes to how to decide what to do next. So he keeps riding Derek, lifting and falling against him, before sitting flush and breathing in deep.]
Three hours. You have to - make it three hours without coming.
[Tate's finger slides against the dial, the vibration decreases. He stays seated on Derek, weight pushing down, his body flexing and tight around Derek's cock but not letting him move. Tate's staring at his face, obscured by the mask, and he strokes himself absently.]
Open your mouth.
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[ Derek fights off that three hours bullshit with the hardest thrust of his hips yet, burying in deep and staying there, stretching Tate out with every inch of him. Yeah, throwing the three hour thing into this was his idea, but-- they're close to the full moon and it was a stupid idea to try this now, when Derek's grip on himself is as tenuous as it can ever be. He's not gonna listen.
Tate starts moving with him, he decreases the fucking vibration, and Derek's happy again, grinning wide. He picks up the pace, gets a little frantic and off-rhythm, which is kind of new for him - he fucks Tate in fast, sloppy, unpracticed thrusts, chasing after Tate every time he moves away and welcoming him back when he drops against him again, and when Tate starts to sink down, locking him in place, Derek does his best to keep fighting. He flexes his hands around the vinyl binding his wrists together, close to just-- breaking the thing so he can put his hands on Tate's ass and get him moving again.
But Tate successfully pins him in place and Derek huffs, frustrated, laying where he is and doing his absolute fucking best to not bring out the werewolf strength and do what he wants. He darts his tongue between his lips and opens his eyes again, staring at the masked shadow that would be Tate, if the blindfold didn't obscure his vision. Reluctantly, he does as he's told, parting his lips - but he's impatient, and if this isn't worth it, he's gonna go back to doing what he wants to do. ]
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