Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rommath had given Halduron simple instructions. On the bed, naked, wearing restraints he’d laid out. Nervous excitement charged the air as Halduron entered the cozy room. Sheer drapes cinched at the ceiling, creating a veil over a round bed centered on the far wall. Behind soft furnishings, the bed’s deep blue sheets spread out, looking soft and comfortable. As good a place as any to relax while he awaited Rommath’s arrival. 

He disrobed hastily, articles strewn on the floor in excitement, then searched for restraints. He was aided with the low illumination of magical candles hosting above the graceful arches of a candelabra. Though they cast soft lighting in the room, they revealed surprisingly little. A low table was tastefully appointed but offered nothing resembling restraints. An ornate wardrobe in the corner was investigated and found sealed, wooden door thudding uselessly against what he presumed to be a magical lock. The pristine room offered little. No rope. No chains. And Rommath, of course, gave no further explanation. 

But it didn’t dissuade him. 

Halduron scratched at his chin, sporting the scruff of a two week patrol he’d just arrived home from, and looked around in mild confusion. Nothing was particularly interesting nor menacing. He frowned in realization, uncertain what Rommath possibly had in mind.

From behind sheer silks, the glint of metal finally beckoned, tucked aside a gaudy pink covering. With nothing else having been left for him, curiosity led him to part the fabric to unveil the source of what had him even more excited to see Rommath than usual. He expected extravagance. Something tortuous. Something befitting the reputation of the imposing Grand Magister. 

But staggering disappointment sat tucked amongst silk sheets. An easy smile was wiped from his face, brows furrowing as he realized what had been left. There before him, a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs laid. 

He’d expected…more. 

Rommath’s own confidence and undeniable capabilities elsewhere had set a high bar. And the rumor mill spun wild stories about parties he’d been involved in during his youth. None of which Halduron had personally seen evidence. But…perhaps they’d been exaggerated by time? He knew a thing or two about the unwillingness for rumors to stick to facts. One outlandish detail inevitably always took hold, no matter what kernel of truth it was derived from. But even if they exaggerated, surely this couldn’t be the big, bad Grand Magister that had most of Silvermoon cowering, could it?

A thin chain connected the metallic disappointment on the bed, construction worse than recycled Gnomeregan tin. The small chain looked as if it would crumple under the slightest of scrutiny. Perhaps suitable for mages or priests, maybe. Not a seasoned Farstrider; not even a green-eared recruit. Still, he donned them, snapping the restraints with a pathetic click around each wrist. Even at their tightest, they sat loosely, sliding halfway down his forearm. Unoffending. Nonthreatening.

He reclined on the bed with hands tucked behind his head, taking advantage of a stack of pillows behind him and the soft cushion below. Even if Rommath didn’t know how to prepare for someone with more strength than a meek librarian, the comfort was at least something. With nothing to do, he waited. And waited. With nothing but his cock to keep him company and already feeling excited, he waited. Uncertain as he was of when Rommath would arrive, he knew one thing: he wouldn’t take kindly if his simple instruction hadn’t been followed. 

So even while Rommath remained curiously disposed, Halduron waited with waning patience. If Rommath had hoped to have him begging to be released from sheer boredom, then he might win their bet afterall.

Agitation and anticipation mounted in Rommath’s absence. Bored out of his mind, attention was turned finally to the flimsy cuffs. The offending item mocked him. Here he sat, dutifully restrained. Perhaps Rommath merely found it amusing to have him captive under the illusion of restraints. And knowing him, he wouldn’t put it past him. It certainly was a better explanation than the alternative.

But did Rommath truly believe these would hold him?

Halduron gave a small yank to test the handcuffs; they strained under pressure. And another yank confirmed what he suspected—the metal chain snapped to his gleeful surprise, leaving half a broken chain on each shackle.

The door opposite of where he reclined finally opened. Before he even thought to spare a glance at Rommath’s entrance, Halduron was ready to taunt.

“You said to stay in bed, but seriously with these cuffs?” Halduron laughed, holding his hands out—freed from the flimsy chain of fuzzy handcuffs—merriment obvious over his brow. “You’ll need more than that to try to…”

Finally looking up from his achievement to meet Rommath’s cold gaze, the words vanished from his lips.

Rommath had entered clad in black leather, shirtless. Maskless. Hair still tied in a high ponytail, somehow even tighter than the slicked back style he normally wore. All sharp edges made it clear he was all business. A tail of black hair draped forward over his chest, but even it couldn’t hide the chiseled muscle that blocked the doorway. He wore strength and power and confidence. 

And Halduron was utterly entranced.

Rommath tilted his head, gaze narrowed, disgust already evident. “To what?”

“...to keep me in place,” Halduron finished, heart rate already spiking in response. 

His mouth remained agape as he took in the smoldering magister he hadn’t expected. 

Rommath always looked good in that ineffable way he couldn’t put to words. Even better when he submitted to him with an ease that stoked the flame of pride in his chest. Effortlessly, beautifully. He yielded to him. It was as if another man lived beneath that mask, unknown to him for so long despite standing before him. He hadn’t been able to get enough, but this—time and absence, alongside the effortless control Rommath exuded, had Halduron falling for him all over again. 

His hands remained uselessly in front of him. The tiny chain swung freely, restraints unneeded to keep him momentarily captive in his surprise and undeniable lust.

The menacing smile he received chilled the room, and surely was the cause of the prickling of goosebumps at his neck. Sharp teeth glinted in the low light, and steadfast determination glowered from the doorway. The spike in his pulse felt too close to fear, leaving him momentarily dumbfounded. Fear and lust swirled together, leaving him trapped, caged in the den of the Grand Magister, and already, his cock was hard.

A flick of Rommath’s eyes down to Halduron’s extended wrists and back only widened his threatening grin. 

Halduron swallowed, smile wiped clean off his face. It dawned on him. The whispered rumors made in jest of Rommath’s past were closer to reality than any had realized. Perhaps he truly could wield a whip with the wicked might of the shivarra. His ears heated at the thought and he moved to sit up, suddenly feeling underdressed and underprepared for whatever trap he’d eagerly reclined within. He’d expected fun, maybe a memory for when Rommath was being his infuriating self.

He was met with narrowed eyes and a stare so intense that it sent a swirling flush of fear-arousal through him.

“You didn’t seriously believe those were the restraints?”

Effortless control in every syllable, his entire being radiated dominance that had Halduron’s heart thudding in his throat as he tried to regain control of forgotten speech. Lost in a bout of senselessness, he found himself uncertain what to say or think. Feeling as if what he said next needed to please. But he looked down to the loose handcuffs for an answer that wasn’t engraved on the thin metal, thumbing at the cheap fuzzy covering that offered him no hint. He came up short. 

Returning to the looming danger in front of him, Halduron met Rommath’s unwavering gaze and shrugged. “Well…yeah?”

“That just keeps the set together—a magnetic clasp.” A short laugh filled the room as Rommath found amusement in the humiliation already pink on Halduron’s flushed skin. “But you were so proud, weren’t you? We’ll see what we can do about that. Such pride is overinflated in the best of circumstances and, well, we’ve no use for it here.” 

Halduron puffed up, ego unwilling to step aside so quickly. “Still—you’ll need a lot more than these if you have any hope to win the bet.” 

He raised his wrists, shaking the loose shackles for effect. 

Rommath was deathly silent for a moment, scrutinizing eyes looking him over in complete indifference to the aggravated mass of muscle reclined over his bed. 

With a single flick of his index, the pink handcuffs tightened snugly against his wrists, giving no space to twist out. Reinforced with the flow of arcane, they thrummed against his pulse, tingling where they met skin. The subtle pulse of power flowed through him, heightening the spike of anticipation as he realized the presence of Rommath could be felt in his bones. Curled fingers then plucked at invisible strings, materializing a blue cloud of unmolded arcane between them. It obeyed, effortlessly. As if the arcane’s true purpose was to abide by his whims.

Halduron watched in awe as an amorphous glow coalesced into chains. They swayed in the air like serpents ready to strike, four of them. Their ghostly clinks filled the silence, requiring no question to understand their intent.

“What—” Halduron was cut off as two arcane chains lashed out in a blur of blue. Upon finding their marks, they fused to the cuff on either wrist. They pulled taut, arms hauled overhead in a hold no struggle would break. 

“Is that to your satisfaction?” asked Rommath. “Or do you have more complaints?”

“Nice trick.” With a smile at his lips, cocky as ever, Halduron reclaimed an easiness about him. “Was worried this would be a complete waste of my time.”

He watched, smile fading once more, as Rommath simply turned his back on him, the subdued creature he now was. The wardrobe he’d found locked on the far wall was opened, and Rommath deliberated in front of the door, inventorying something beyond view from the bed.

“You need to learn your place, Brightwing,” Rommath called over his shoulder with assuredness only he could muster. He spoke with undeniable confidence that he was the man who’d wrangle the Ranger-General into submission.

But the threat held little sway as Halduron found himself distracted. 

The defined muscles of Rommath’s back flexed as he dug through the wardrobe. Whatever laid inside was far less intriguing than appreciating all that Rommath had to offer. He realized again what robes sought to hide: Rommath had a nice ass. It wasn’t a new realization, but a new appreciation. The leather he wore clung so tightly they had to be conjured. Handcuffs and bondage faded to the more pressing matter straining in his lap. Imagining himself brushing over supple leather to pull them down, he wanted nothing more than to bend him over and forget all about this bet, their play. 

Perhaps if he shared the fantasy, Rommath might be swayed to abolishing chains and fucking first. Even if he hid it, Rommath had to be as riled up as he felt.

The thought was cut short the moment Rommath inevitably found what he searched for and turned, taking with him the rediscovered appreciation for the power of well-tailored leather. Mind still filled with one thought, Halduron’s heated gaze lingered. From tight leather clinging around strong thighs and up his wide chest, he wondered if Rommath might take pity and give him a taste of something more immediately pleasurable than whips and chains. 

Halduron swallowed hard as he met the powerful gaze pinning him in bed and the curious curve of a faint smile. 

He’d been caught staring. 

And the look he received inspired hope that Rommath’s will might falter in the span of that smile. But brief amusement melted into disdain. Disinterest reclaimed a stern place over his brow. 

No, Halduron thought then, no chance of fucking. But any disappointment lived briefly as Rommath stalked forward. In his hand, his weapon of choice.

The imposing shadow of Rommath descended over where he laid sprawled on the round bed. The comforts beneath Halduron previously lulled him into deceptive ease but now faded away in the anticipation of the passing shadow. Pace unhurried, the click of heeled boots counted down each step before Halduron would be in range of the leather tails that had caught his attention. The weapon in hand—a simple flogger—was held loosely, waved at his side as if merely an innocent prop. Its falls were few and narrow, each promised to sting. Despite the poised threat approaching, Halduron was captivated, nostrils flaring in blatant desire even as danger descended.

There was wild energy in the room, the kind that brought back old dynamics. Maybe the effects of the arcane still throbbing at his wrists, maybe not. But he found himself chained, not with the tamed magister he’d grown to know, but the cold, ever-calculating enigma he’d once sworn would be the death of him. 

Expression full of focus, Rommath studied him with the same dedication he applied to all important matters that slid over his desk. A face that wouldn’t abide by disruption cast scrutiny, making Halduron painfully aware of how he was on display. At Rommath’s mercy. Arms chained overhead and cock hard, he awaited judgement. Nearing the end of the bed, Rommath lowered the flogger to meet skin. Though gentle, it was met with an instinctual need to evade the threat descending upon him. His freed ankles reflexively retreated, halted only by a stern look.

“I’ll use the other chains if need be, but I’d recommend you at least try to behave,” Rommath warned, needing no further threat. 

Halduron stilled, watching Rommath’s approach with building anticipation.

The tail of the flogger pulled over the length of his body. Slow and gentle. The feel of it almost tickled as it brushed from his ankles upward on an achingly slow path marked by each step echoing in the otherwise silent room. His body tensed as the flogger caressed over his straining cock, breath catching in his throat. It was only then he realized how it laid vulnerable to Rommath’s whims. Cruel whims. Whims that were determined to make him beg.

Instincts sparked and he silently fought the urge to twist his hips, hoping he’d hidden discomfort behind indifference. It wasn’t wise to show fear to a predator. Such falters only encouraged. Coaxed cruelty. Made the inevitable pounce all the more satisfying—he knew that better than most. With anyone else, the obscured discomfort would have gone unnoticed. Easily. But then again, he’d never find himself like this with anyone else. 

Above, a sharp breath of air confirmed his suspicions without the need to tear his gaze from the teasing trail of the flogger slowly dragged over his chest. His best efforts betrayed a fear that only enticed his tormentor.

“You aren’t worried, are you, Ranger-General? You had so much to say, so much to show off before. Shame if you got quiet on me before we even started.” 

In truth, he was. From the moment his attention fell over the tight leather leggings, he’d found himself speechless. Uncertain. Turned on beyond anything he’d expected.

Halduron swallowed a shaky breath, mustering all bravado he possessed into feigned calm. “It’ll take more than theatrics.” 

He didn’t believe the words as they were spoken, and by the look looming over him, neither did Rommath. He simply grinned, just as terrifying as the first. It triggered some primal response, feeling for the first time as if he was prey in the crosshairs of something more sadistic than he’d expected.

“Promising to hear,” Rommath responded. “Would’ve been a shame if you proved yourself to be as disappointing as I’d anticipated.”

Words were dulled by the threat of the flogger. Halduron reflexively cringed away, using what little slack Rommath had allowed in his bindings to his full advantage. In that one instinctual movement, he sealed his fate. The chains reacted in response to Rommath’s immediate disapproval, tightening at his wrists as the others finally bound his ankles. 

Rommath simply tutted his disappointment. “Have it your way.”

The gentle touch of the flogger finished its path upward and over his chest, sending an excited shiver through him. Halduron wiggled uselessly in his restraints, holding a breath as Rommath passed back over the trail. Leather brushed over hardened nipples and revealed just how sensitive he was to the light touch. The falls of the flogger passed over his cock and balls on a slow descent. They were soft, steady, meant to make him squirm as he uselessly did now. He knew what they could do, how easily Rommath could turn teasing touch into agonizing anguish with a flick of his wrist.

“Rommath,” he gasped in apprehension, half excited, half worried by the deceptively gentle attention lavished over his cock. Even as he was lulled back into relaxation, he knew what was to come.

“Ah-ah.” Rommath didn’t dignify him with any reaction beyond careful exploration, seemingly determined he wouldn’t abide such disruptions. “You don’t deserve to speak my name. Not here.”

Halduron swallowed, fighting everything in him to lower himself so far as to use a title he’d long ignored. Pride denied him from speaking it before, just as it denied any hope of breaking their bet. But if words earned him a reprieve from his ire, one of those absolutes could be broken.

“Grand Magister,” he began. The words came forced and stilted, unaccustomed to speaking them with anything resembling respect. He’d always used them to tease, not plead. “I—”

“Your High and Powerfulness,” Rommath corrected, barely sparing a blink as he cut off Halduron’s trail of thought. “That’s how you should address me.”

Halduron scoffed a laugh, unable to believe he was serious. 

If he struggled to speak his given title, there was no way he could speak such nonsense with a straight face. The noise was swallowed as he realized just how serious Rommath looked. Stern, somehow more menacing without that collar of his. On his best of days he wasn’t keen on Halduron’s teasing and taunting. Somehow he suspected Rommath wouldn’t take kindly to such trifles now, especially not while poised with a flogger over his erect cock. 

His brows knitted in resistance, merriment draining from his face, certain Rommath wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be. But quicker than he could blink, the sharp sting of the flogger struck him against his thigh, pain radiating on contact. Its tails pulled an embarrassing yelp of surprise he was powerless to stop.

“Your High and Powerfulness,” Halduron mumbled, his words stitched together to form a barely audible sentence. 

The heat of shame rose to his cheeks, but before he could spare a thought for how he must look, how he must sound, the sharp whip cut through air. It landed with another sting over his thigh.

He gritted his teeth, determined no yelp nor anything unbefitting the Ranger-General would echo through Rommath’s home again. But hard as he fought, the pain still rose through his mask—knitted brows and lip jutting out in defiance. 

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he thought to himself. It was supposed to be fun. He was supposed to embarrass Rommath, not himself. He wasn’t supposed to be so turned on. For the first time, his confidence in their bet crumbled. 

The thought was interrupted with a mocking laugh.

“Don't give me that.” Rommath’s gloved hand pushed aside the hair that had fallen over Halduron’s shoulder, freeing his view for what was to come. “Didn't think you'd pout…not so soon.”

Halduron pulled against his restraints. “Not a pout, I—ah—”

His yell echoed loudly through the room as another lash landed. Harder. 

The flick of Rommath’s wrist held deceptive power, backed by muscles Halduron now realized no mage had need for. The ends of the tails licked him in precise control that would have warranted awe under any other circumstances.  It was higher than the last, an ever rising wall of sharp pain as Halduron tried and failed to follow a simple task. 

The lash had landed just beneath his exposed balls. One strike higher and he was confident Rommath wouldn’t hesitate to provide encouragement. The thought sent a chill through him...Rommath wouldn't. Rising and evaporating in a flash, the thought didn’t settle him, knowing Rommath absolutely would. Maybe even planned on it. 

“Your High and Powerfulness,” Halduron forced the words with more feeling, words worried. 

“Better,” Rommath drawled, brief disappointment flickered over his face, clearly expecting it would take longer.

Halduron breathed a sigh of relief, body relaxing in his restraints, eyes fluttering close as tension left him. 

It was cut short. Another blow landed where the last still stung, feeling as if it burned upon impact.

“You said it was better!” Halduron cried in outrage. His skin already heated where the successive blows landed.

“Better, yes, but not good.” Rommath raised Halduron’s chin, lifting him to meet a merciless gaze. 

Halduron didn’t dare speak. In the quiet and still, he felt his pulse quicken. It was a strange thing. One he wouldn’t have expected. He’d never been on the other end of the flog. Hadn’t thought fear would crawl into his chest. Didn’t think it would feel so good to be bound and helpless and needing to please.

His gaze flicked upward in defiance, unwilling to accept the fear that had emerged alongside Rommath’s entrance.

The leather against his chin was surprisingly soft, supple. At odds with the treatment he’d already withstood. He’d only received a small taste of what was to come, but already didn’t know what to expect. Soft then hard, slow then fast. It left him off-balance, uncertain where the next moment would lead. A light touch trailed over his cheek, against the shell of his ear. So delicate not even a nail caught skin. All the while Rommath watched his reaction with detached interest. 

Halduron was certain he saw it all. The slight inhale at the arousal flowing through him. The way he swallowed hard beneath his attention, leaned into the unexpectedly arousing touch playing with sensitive ears. Perhaps even the spike of fear he desperately tried to hide.

“Do you think I deserve less than your very best?” Rommath finally asked, voice low and dark. He released his hold, agitation bridled behind a cold gaze as he swept the falls of the flogger against his chest, no doubt cataloguing the way he leaned into it, following the leather’s touch. “Or do you think so little of me that you expect I might accept it?”

There was a threat behind the question, Rommath already on the prowl.

Halduron could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. He tried finding the words, a spiking fear compelling him to utter two words he’d long denied Rommath: “Grand Magister.”

The fel of Rommath’s eyes flared in warning, grip tightening on the flogger at his side. But he didn’t strike. Didn’t move. Every muscle in his body was under as tight of a control as what he’d chained him in.

“A title for Sunfury—you’d be good to remember that,” Rommath quickly added. “But not here. It's a simple question. Should I lower my standards, Brightwing?”

Before he was even given a moment to draw breath, the flogger landed harder, a tail so close to his exposed cock he felt the sharp air of the strike brush over his balls in threat. The falls landed in a loud thud against his thigh, heavier than the stinging snaps of before.

“No, your High and Powerfulness,” said Halduron with a jolt. He spoke with conviction, an unspoken plea in it as he bit back a gasp at the sting. 

But it wasn’t a beg.

“Ah, good. That's what I thought.” Rommath spared a look down his body, taking him in slowly until his gaze rested over his straining length over an embarrassing pool of precome. “Leaking over your stomach already. I’ve barely touched you, but…I suppose a dog like you can't help it when you think someone might be willing to fondle your cock. Surely you didn't come here expecting to fuck?” 

A silence stretched between them, an answer within it.

“You wanted to see what I can do,” Rommath continued, not dignifying Halduron’s eagerness when he had a job to do. “So, on your knees.”

At his word, the taut chains holding his wrists and ankles loosened, allowing him to push away from the comforts of pillows behind him. Halduron did what he was told. The bed shifted beneath his movements, apprehension guiding him slowly. But Rommath didn’t rush. Didn’t prod him along with stinging encouragement. His scrutiny weighed down over him, watching with wicked amusement; reveling in the aching pace of his submission.

Before Halduron could find balance, the chains tightened, pulling upward into the ether in tight hold. Head hung backward staring into the cinch of curtains above. The translucent chains disappeared before passing sheer fuschia fabric. It was like a mirage. If it weren’t for the unwavering hold, he’d think it little more than a trick of the light. Needing to confirm, an exploratory brush of fingers passed through untouchable chains, hands tingling in response. Untouchable as they might be, they might as well have been made of thalassian steel for all the strength that held him captive. Stretched, exposed, supported in his precarious position. 

Shifting between his knees and adjusting his weight did nothing to nudge his bondage. It was uncomfortable, off balance, and indefensible. With weight shifted forward, his back and ass were left open to the punishment he’d gleefully agreed to, not realizing it’d be like this. 

He’d expected those pink, fuzzy cuffs—a semblance of control easily overthrown. A comical attempt at intimidation that might work on sniffling mages, but not a battle-hardened warrior. Still, the unexpectedness wasn’t unwelcomed. His heart pattered against his chest, breath already leaving him light-headed from arousal.  His hard cock hung heavy in anticipation,  equally as open to Rommath and aching under the delusion of a reward. 

Movement from behind had his head snap, craning over his shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of what was to come. The fear from Rommath’s entrance came back with a vengeance. These weren’t flimsy restraints nor attempted intimidation. It was power. True power of the Grand Magister, who’d finally strung up the constant thorn in his side to do with as he pleased.

Halduron throbbed at thought—the unexpected helplessness, the expectation of what was to come. If only he could get some relief he could—

“Keep squirming, and I’ll find a blindfold,” Rommath warned. 

It stilled his movement without another thought, unwilling to miss out on a single moment.

Rommath passed the flogger over his gloved hand. The soft slide of leather over leather counted down aching moments. “You still think you’ll make it to the end without begging?” 

Amusement lifted the question to Halduron’s ears, Rommath already having an answer in mind.

“Easy,” Halduron replied. “Maybe I’ll have you begging by the end of it.”

Rommath took his time, watching him squirm. But no hint of hesitation accompanied him. It was methodical. Calculating. As if he performed some convoluted analysis on the precise number of lashes required to tame a ranger.

“Admirable spirit,” said Rommath. The soft brush of leather filled a small silence. “The best kind to break.”

“We’ll see about th—” Halduron yelped a surprised, embarrassing noise as the flogger was brought down hard and fast over his back, stealing the words from his tongue. 

Heat bloomed where the falls licked.

“You seem to forget yourself, Brightwing…where you are. But don’t worry, I’ll help you remember your place.”

Halduron wasn’t left to wonder how. 

Another snap fell against his back, lighter than the last but in the same place. It was given space to burn, the heat of the lash spreading. But more surprising was his response to it—his cock ached. Each lash fell harder than the last, building a pain that melted into pleasure. The jolt of each one had his cock bob uselessly in the air, begging for attention it wouldn’t receive. Precome dripped onto the silks below, staining with desire.

It wasn’t long before a flurry of strikes fell over him, backed by unwavering muscles and decades of pent up aggravation coming to a head. A hypnotizing rhythm was found, hard and deep, building him into soft acceptance. He blinked heavy lids, head thrown back with nothing to watch save the point where translucent chains evaporated into the nothingness above. His mind, devoid of anything but acceptance, floated up to that mesmerizing space. It freed him of the burden of thought. Nothing existed but tension and blooming pain. 

Before he could grow to anticipate what came next, Rommath would shift. Sharp, quick blows that had his body jolting in the numbing pain of it all. The feel of fire lashed with each fall—either enchantment or technique, he wasn’t sure. The effect was the same. He squirmed in his bondage. Grunts and groans—sounding foreign to his ear—spilled over his lips. All heightened by that gentle thrum of arcane cinched around his wrists.

The sensations flooded him, pushing him to an edge he hadn’t realized he dangled over. It was too much, bound and open to Rommath’s mercy and finding none. The core of the pain held pleasure. Intoxicating pleasure. His cock ached, throbbing in time with the radiating heat from each merciless lash. An electric buzz of sensitivity coursed through him, and he was certain the handcuffs were the culprit, lighting heightened need that made him vaguely wonder how they'd never done this before. 

Another wicked sting was all it took. Like that, he came on a low moan, cock twitching against nothing from the overwhelming sensation as he shot ropes of come over the bed. 

Halduron braced for the next thudding blow that, unlike him, didn't come. 

In mortification, he stared ahead on the silky sheets, surprise hidden by a curtain of hair. All he could do was hold onto a thread of hope that Rommath somehow hadn’t noticed. 

The silence in the room wasn’t promising. 

No rush of air. No sound of falls snapping against him. And beneath him, come-stained sheets laid in view for them both to see. It was a sobering sight, bringing him back down from that mindless enjoyment. Newfound embarrassment dwarfed all sense of pain, chest tightening. Heat burning over his ears and cheeks rivaled the spots Rommath had been working.

A rustle behind him finally marked Rommath’s movement. His presence retreated only for the click of boots to make their way around the edge of the bed. On the floor before him, those boots came into view, Rommath directly ahead of him and judgement waiting. He was thankful for the veil of hair draped around his face, unwilling to meet his gaze as he simmered in humiliation.

He could curl up and pretend it hadn’t happened. Pretend he hadn’t been so swept up in the near-rapture of pain and pleasure. Pretend the sheets weren’t darkened by spilled come that still dripped from his cock.

Rommath proved as merciless now as always. Gloved hands parted silky reprieve and tucked his hair behind his ears in an act too tender for what the moment promised. The flat end of his flogger, covered in a golden gleam of a rounded embossed cap, dipped beneath his lowered chin. Rommath tilted his head until Halduron’s view was filled with cruel delight.

“Is this the stamina of the Ranger-General?”

“No,” Halduron snapped, face burning.

Rommath studied him for a quiet moment, surely captivated at how red his cheeks turned. “Waste of a good cock. Too bad, had hoped this night wouldn’t end so quickly.”

“Keep going.” 

 Rommath grinned. “Try not to make a mess of my sheets, again.”

Another flush of heat rose to his face before Rommath dropped his chin, circling back to his side. The cushion beneath him dipped as Rommath joined, opting for closer quarters for whatever he had in mind next.

This was different from before. His mind hurried to catch up, trying to anticipate what would come next.

The smooth butt of the flogger, as rigid as Rommath’s expectations, traced over his spine. It was cold at first. The unexpectedness pulled a shiver before he could reclaim slipping control. The smooth metal heated against his skin as Rommath dragged it over him. Pressure light enough to tease, he pulled it slowly—achingly slow. Tension in his muscles melted away, soothing the lingering heat of embarrassment with it with a pleasured chill.

All the while, Rommath quietly watched his internal battle to restrain a rebellious shiver. The trail continued down his spine, unhurried, to the curve of his ass, where he lingered as if to draw out every breath of anticipation. 

And he did. 

Halduron fought to hold breath, reluctantly releasing a shaky exhale only once the flogger’s path stilled. He reclaimed fleeting control over an involuntary shudder, body already missing the sensual sensation. But he wasn’t left wanting long. Rommath traced that shivering path back, equally unhurried until every thought and breath beneath the delicate weight of his flogger was owned by him. It followed the same path up again, slow and steady. 

It allowed breath to catch up. Muscles to relax. Anticipation to build. 

Melting into the desire of wanting more, Halduron’s body craved teasing pleasure beneath the wave of pain still throbbing through sore muscles. Any thought of resistance melted away on an unashamed shiver, entirely unhindered by the threat of another blow. And when he finally realized it—freed from any thought of struggle—it felt good. Though hardly his first time, it was with Rommath, like this, at mercy. And that was a revelation.

It was easy to ignore the burn of lashes earned, the burn of humiliation. It ebbed in the path of the slow press, nothing but the deceptively gentle touch of warm metal remaining. Only when the flogger lifted from hot skin did the tension of the room descend once more. The ache and throb warned of what was to come, hidden in the quiet of inaction.

Halduron didn’t dare turn. 

From silence, a renewed sense of fear returned. He focused on his breath, a curious twitch of an ear betraying his search for movement from behind—the shift in position, the cut of air, any harbinger of another blow.

He was made to wait. Breath held. And wait. Body tensed. And wait.

“Breathe,” Rommath instructed.

Halduron obeyed. A heavy sigh released the tension he held coiled in his body.

A crack of air lashed out, the sound as sharp as a blow itself. He tensed, eyes already clenched close in a reflexive brace for impact. The sound stole a gasp, mind already filled with the fiery burn of lashes.

Nothing.

Nothing landed against him, but the sound of a breathy laugh. A bluff.

“Almost too easy,” said Rommath. “You squirm so well.”

Halduron released a shaky sigh, but wasn’t given a chance to relax. With a fist entangled in his hair, Rommath pulled his head sharply back as if to see just how far he’d be led before an urge to resist emerged from hiding. Harsh claws at his scalp led him to arch into submission, hair used to subdue him. Resistance didn’t come. Unable to surface from the intoxicating effect of obedience, it remained dormant. Under Rommath’s reins.

Rommath still knelt at his side, heat radiating from him. His entire demeanor was effortless, subduing an unruly farstrider with an ease that made Halduron wonder vaguely of next times. Would it be as easy? Would he slip into this mindless state more quickly? 

All thoughts slipped away as he gave himself over, world quieting beyond the touch of Rommath bending him to his will. Sharp pain and anticipation filled him, overloading senses already on edge. Pain was pleasure, pleasure was pain, and he wanted more. 

The moment between the next strike was agony. 

His muscles trembled in exertion, only held by force of the unwavering control that engulfed him. It required everything he had to not beg then and there. For less, for more. He wasn’t sure which, but he needed Rommath. For him to strike and end the uncertainty. For the next blow to land and—would it land?

He heard the tails of the flogger break air first. 

The sound sliced through the fear of waiting and sent an instinctual flood of adrenaline pouring through his veins. He jolted as it landed with a sharp snap against the back of his thigh. From the bright spark of pain, the heat of Rommath’s fury radiated. Halduron pulled uselessly as another one, two, three fell in rapid succession. Each as hard and snappy as the last. Mind focused, he gave himself over it, senses flooded with the sting of heat. It built over already abused skin, leaving him breathless. One after another they rained down, too numerous to count. 

In another flurry of sharp hot lashes, he cried out. Furrowed brows and clenched fists did nothing to stop the pitiful noise. Nor did it deter his tormentor.

“Don’t sound so pathetic—this is what you wanted, isn’t it? What you deserve after the shameless disruptions.” Rommath’s words came between heavy breaths.

Halduron nodded as best he could in the tight hold binding him. The fist in his hair had only grown tighter. Through the fog of obedience, he found his voice. 

“Yes.”

It was the only answer, yes. It came easily. Unbidden. In simple agreement he’d given himself over. 

Another snap of the flogger landed. Harsh hot licks bloomed over his upper thighs, higher than before. And in that moment, he knew agony as one caught delicate skin nestled between his legs. He howled in surprise. Body jolted forward with nowhere to go, held firm by magical restraints that would only waver with Rommath’s will. And that, he knew, was iron clad. But rather than continue flogging, building punishing pain that surely would have him beg to end, bet be damned, Rommath untangled his hold over blond hair. 

Halduron’s head slumped forward from the suddenness. 

Aftershocks of the blow trembled through him, none of them attempting to be hidden as he groaned in pain. Before he could anticipate any further threat to how exposed the position left him, a soft thud of the flogger landed against the silk sheets below. From behind, soft warmth soothed over him, Rommath’s hand rubbing gently over heated, abused skin in a movement that might have been tender under other circumstances. His body anticipated cruelty, yet was given care he didn’t know what to do with.

“I thought we had an understanding on how you’re to address me. Yes, what?” Rommath’s voice was dark. In a show of mercy, his hand still soothed heated pain, intending to coax him into coherent thought.

Halduron chased the feel of him, following Rommath’s reprieve. The mental solace of having the flogger in sight allowed a sigh to escape his lips. And Rommath wasn’t deaf to it. His body pressed against him, bare chest sliding over his back, sweat slickened skin sticking to another as his body engulfed him. Hot breath fell against his ear, each heavy from the force behind the flogging.

“Don’t make me ask again,” Rommath growled.

“Yes, your High and Powerfulness,” said Halduron through a groan, face heating as hot as his thighs and back felt. But he spoke with conviction, needing to learn that lesson only once.

Breathed laughter caressed his ear, soft and condescending. But in reward, attention reached upward. Gentle to soothe the lash against his balls, fingers delicately played with him until he writhed in teased pleasure, the errant blow forgotten in the promise for more.

“You learn quickly—how surprising,” Rommath taunted, hand sliding up Halduron’s aching cock hanging beneath him. He found him hard, leaking. The slow deliberate pace pulled a groan. Friction light, Rommath smeared his precome into him. His hand slid, hot and firm around Halduron’s girth in a pressure that felt all the better for the ache elsewhere. “Is this what you wanted? An excuse for me to stroke your cock?”

Another moan was teased from him, Halduron nodding uselessly in response. 

His pulse was in his throat at the undeniable press of Rommath's cock against his hip, hidden behind leather he wanted to peel away, feeling as if he was on the verge of discovering if they were, in fact, conjured. Tucked in the overwhelming presence of him, body hot, magic teasing at him—he wondered if he’d ever be able to go without this feeling.

“Not going to come again, are you?” Rommath teased against his ear.

Halduron swallowed, finding his voice. “If you keep that up—”

“You better not—not until I’m finished.” Rommath released his grip, and pulled away, his warmth fleeing with him. “Now, roll over.”

At first he didn’t follow, mind misfiring because Rommath surely couldn't mean what he thought. It wasn’t like Rommath to give up, not when Halduron had been so close to giving him what he’d tried to withhold: a beg.  But the arcane chains holding him loosened; shifted like sand in response to Rommath’s desire. That was enough to allow him to gingerly roll onto his back and recline against the soft stack of pillows once more. 

Rommath shimmied out of his leather, bare save the gloves he’d entered with. A barrier; separation he insisted on as if a reminder to himself. Despite the hide-thin separation, it didn’t stop him from spreading his hands over Halduron’s chest in indulgent exploration. Stretching upward he straddled Halduron, bringing them closer together and sweeping a shiver over flushed skin. He took in the sight of his submission. The way he traced over red welts was as if he catalogued them, satisfied with his work, pleased at how much of the tanned expanse bore evidence of his flogging.

“You’ve done surprisingly well,” Rommath admitted. “You’ll find I’m not without rewards.”

The chain binding Halduron’s hands loosened, allowing one hand to fall. It wasn’t freedom, but it was more movement than he’d been allowed since Rommath entered. A vial was procured from aside the bed, cap popped off, and its contents poured into Halduron’s outstretched hand.

“Stroke yourself,” Rommath ordered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He’d been throbbing. Though Rommath’s cock brushed teasingly against his, as arousing as that was, it did little to take the edge off. A soft sigh fell over his lips as he gripped his straining length, eyes falling closed as he slicked up his cock. His hand slid with slippery ease and warmth of another kind simmered beneath his skin. Though he hadn’t thought gripping his own cock would be a reward, it sure as hell felt like it after the beating he had taken.

Rommath’s attention was fixed over him, watching him like captured prey as Halduron obediently worked himself. Discontent to watch, he slid forward, hard cock brushing over his fist as their hips were brought together. An arm slung over his neck brought them closer still, mouth hovering over his ear. 

“And me,” he commanded. Breath soft, voice husky with desire of his own.

Halduron wrapped their cocks together, rewarded with a tighter squeeze. Joined pleasure had him nearly forget the pain of the flogger. Hot drips of precome caught between their cocks, easing the friction between them and pulling a groan from Halduron. Against his ear, he felt each soft breath from Rommath in restrained enjoyment, unwilling to show just how much he craved the touch. Even so, his cock couldn’t hide. It leaked over his hand and mixed with his own.

The thrust he received, small and wanting, betrayed how worked up Rommath had grown over their session. All further restraint seemed to crumble beneath his own needs. Each slickened press down their shafts squeezed them more tightly together, pulling a ragged breath against his ear. Claws against his shoulder offered leverage. In the heat of the moment sharp teeth nipped at his earlobe in need to claim. It was just like Rommath to be dissatisfied unless he had him all, knowing how it drove him wild. 

A grazing path over Halduron’s jaw sent a chill through him, ending with another nip at his lower lip. The sharp sting bloomed into the taste of iron. If Rommath aimed to rile him up, it worked.

“Fuck,” Halduron mumbled, searching for lips between shared breath. 

He felt on edge after Rommath’s session, ready to bend him over and rut into him. His hand slipped over their cocks, squeezing tighter at the thought. 

But Rommath had other ideas. 

The chain rematerialized without warning and pulled him away from his wants for a while longer, proving the man in his lap was just as withholding as he always knew him to be. 

Eyes wide and with a plea on his lips, it was all Halduron could do to halt the beg that threatened to slip over his tongue. Lip still stinging from sharp teeth, he instead grumbled disappointment at the merciless teasing he’d been subjected to.

“Something the matter?” Rommath murmured against him in false innocence.

Halduron ached, feeling the brush of Rommath cock teasing against his own, but more than that, nothing where a tight grip once squeezed.

“Let me feel you,” he gasped, lightheaded from the intoxicating shared breath. 

His words wore all the passion of a beg. Its same neediness. Helplessness. But, more importantly, not the name.

“You’re here at my pleasure, not yours. Though…you already had yours, have you not?” The grin could be heard in Rommath’s words. He lifted Halduron’s chin to meet the fiery glow of his gaze confirming what Halduron expected. “Thought I’d leave you here, alone, like this, but…” —he trailed off, clearly taking enjoyment at the deepening of Halduron’s pout at mere thought of the idea— “I hadn’t expected you’d pout.”

He doubted Rommath had the will to leave—he wouldn’t if it were reversed—but said nothing. He wanted nothing more than to watch Rommath have his way with him, stings of the flogger already forgotten at the promise of sliding into him at long last.

Rommath rose far enough to grip his length and lined them up to where they both wanted. The slickened head was made to tease at his ass, proving Rommath was in no hurry despite his own neediness.

Halduron always loved that first press. 

The feeling of first opening Rommath up to take him. He'd savor it—the slow pressure engulfing him in heat until the head of his cock stretched him wide, ass begging for a swift thrust to slide home. Enraptured with watching himself slowly disappear. How it pulled at him as if to coax him along, Rommath relaxed and waiting beneath him, growing desperate as Halduron took his time. Playing with his entrance always had driven Rommath him wild. He’d writhe and offer such sultry little noises, stirring primal need to give them what they both wanted. 

Perhaps that's why he always teased Rommath. Withholding that slow hilt, teasing him with just the head, flexing his control over when he'd allow Rommath to finally take his cock. 

But this?

Turned against him, was something else entirely. Rommath slowly pressed against him as if he merely considered taking him. Using him. Heat withheld was more torturous than the lash. It taunted. It stirred up bridled lust that wanted for nothing more than to break away the chains of submission and put Rommath in his place.

The slow pressure made him want to buck. To grip hips, fingers digging in until the sting of claws threatened to mark skin. To pull his teasing hole onto his cock in one swift thrust. And Rommath knew. He teased a slow descent, arguably the same as what Halduron used against him before, taking enjoyment in denial. Flaunting his own iron control. 

The friction the moment his ass opened for him stole a gasp. He was tight; hot. 

Chains tugged overhead from impatience, but Halduron didn't dare speak. Heavy breath alone pleaded his case, answered with more tight heat slipping down his shaft. A few shallow thrusts, each deeper than the last, and Rommath finally gave him what he wanted. Hot and tight, he gripped around his full cock nestled deeply. 

On edge from their play, Halduron nearly lost it as Rommath moaned, breaking character in the pleasure of being filled completely. If he was disappointed at not being able to guide and watch his cock disappear, he forgot it as Rommath’s bliss unfolded. Enjoyment soothed over his face, the sight of which he’d never tire. Rommath blinked slowly above him, as if remembering what task was at hand. But the serenity hadn’t cleared. His mouth parted over a silent breath and begged for lips to crash against him. 

If he weren’t chained, if they didn’t have this bet—Halduron would have. He’d make sure he felt him; knew nothing but him. But all he could do was watch, heart tugging in his chest at the expression worn plainly before him. 

When Rommath noticed, he recovered. That captivating mouth that soundlessly begged for lips snapped into a tight frown, eyes taking a hard edge. 

“Seems you're good for something after all.”

Halduron preened under the compliment. “It's good for you? High praise considering we’re just getting started.”

In a flash of movement, the forgotten flogger was looped behind his neck. Smooth leather pulled him close in a hold as strong as the chains above. Another flex of strength that proved Rommath didn’t need magic to hold him still. Lips, still screwed in disdain, were just beyond his own. Distracting. No less deserving of attention he’d give freely under different circumstances.

“Don't let it go to your head,” Rommath growled between gritted teeth. “Just a hard cock.”

Halduron knew when not to speak. And Rommath on the verge of riding him was that time. He'd allow nothing to end it, least of all words. Chains above and the flogger behind his neck both kept him in place, and more importantly at that moment, in Rommath’s ass. He nodded with abandon, willing to agree with anything if it meant continuing like this.

Their eyes locked as Rommath rose. He played his role well. No moan, no sigh betrayed how much he enjoyed it. 

But Halduron knew. 

He knew the noises he’d make. He knew the noises he fought to withhold. He knew every shiver, every spot that would drive him wild. He knew him. Skilled as Rommath was at control, he couldn’t hide the heat behind his eyes. Rabid hot desire was chained behind feigned indifference. It shone through his stoic mask in a small crack that Halduron would always see. Passion like that couldn’t be hidden, not even with the full might of muscle and magic.

Lowering to slide down his aching cock, Rommath’s restraint began to crumble, body betraying him as he took what he desired. Sweat glistened muscles trembled as he fought against riding with abandon just as strongly as Halduron fought to let him deny them both. Though soundless, hot shaky breath caressed over his lips in a tease he couldn’t resist. It was captivating. For a man who ruled emotion in an iron grip, the wildness of his lust spurred something deep in Halduron. 

He closed the short distance to steal a kiss, meeting in an electric touch. It arched through him, rewarding him for risking renewed lashes. A lip between his own, and he was met with warmth of a teasing tongue. Rommath flicked over him on the verge of opening himself to more—he always wanted more. Pleasure bloomed bright and hot in a deepened kiss, vanishing just as quickly. 

Rommath, remembering himself, severed their connection with nothing more than a tilt of his chin. 

But it only flamed the need lit in Halduron’s chest, ravenous for any part he could reach. Faint salt registered on his lips and tongue as he pressed formless kisses wherever he could reach, finding the crook where he could nuzzle in, well aware of how the roughness of weeks-old stubble against Rommath’s neck drove him wild. Peppered kisses and soft bites did what tied hands could not. 

Above him, heated breaths of restrained enjoyment threatened to break free and form into sounds Rommath sought to deny. An iron hold slipped over himself if not the arcane chains holding them apart. 

Silent as Rommath tried to be, Halduron made up for in unabashed enjoyment. The rock of hips against him, the full weight of Rommath flush with his lap, the friction of  a snug squeeze—it left no option. It stole his own breath, made him dizzy with delirious desire. He wanted more, needed more. 

If lips wouldn’t encourage him in pleasure, he would improvise. 

A sharp nip at the delicate skin of Rommath’s neck—hard enough to sting and bruise—stole a surprised moan. The sound was sultry and dark, a forbidden noise Halduron would remember the next time they were in the Spire, and at odds with the menacing man who usually lurked in musty libraries and barked orders to all in earshot. 

Buried against his neck, Halduron took in the moment. The feeling of Rommath clinging to him, pulling him close. Lingering salt against his lips from glistening exertion, the way dark hair clung against his skin. Thighs tight against him as Rommath took what he needed. He didn't want it to end. Each breath fell faster, claws digging in, marking his back just the same as the flogger claimed before. Another soft moan caught in his hair as Rommath grew desperate. Movements grew more demanding. Rommath rode him hard towards his peak, using Halduron to get what he wanted.

It was all too easy to imagine giving it to him. He knew what Rommath wanted. To be fuller. Feel him deeper than he could get on his own, like this. Halduron wanted to grab him. Flip him. Fuck into him. Have him come on his cock again and again, tight ass milking him of everything he had, until Rommath begged for his load.

Halduron attempted to thrust from below. It was then he realized the chains at his ankles had loosened enough to allow leverage. He met Rommath’s descent. A rush of pleasure rewarded him as he drove a little deeper, but even better was the muffled moan felt against his neck. He could feel Rommath breathe him in, searching for more.

“I know what you want,” said Halduron, pleased at the vibration of Rommath’s moan against him.

“You shouldn’t presume to know anything.”

Rommath pulled away from where he’d buried himself. The flogger was abandoned on the sheets aside them, no use for it any longer. Despite his words, he looked satisfied at the new depth. Desperate for more. He trailed over him—eyes and hands taking his full enjoyment over Halduron’s chest in a way that always inflated his ego. Warmth flooded Halduron at the thought that he could give him pleasure even while restrained. That his cock was responsible. That he was allowed to know Rommath like this. 

The look over Rommath appeared as if he’d hand over control—that’s how this usually went—yet he didn’t. The chains above still hand strong. He still used him, slowly. The teasing pace was measured, angled for Rommath to take as much pleasure while on display.  He knew good and well how it drove him wild to watch the way he took his cock with practiced ease.

Rippling muscle with each rolling thrust had Halduron in a trance. His eyes traced paths his hand and tongue could not—over Rommath’s chest, the peaks of pierced nipples begging to be lavished. Over his cock, imagining licking away the precome trailing and marking his own stomach. The arcane chains rattled in another useless pull, his own grunts filling the air at restrained desire. He could look, but not touch. Not give into the fantasy nor give him what they both needed. It should be punishable to allow such things to go unexplored and unappreciated. That fact grew more unbearable the longer Rommath rode him. Driven wild at the thought, he found himself on the verge of begging, as Rommath had promised. 

“Let me give you what you need,” Halduron groaned, shuddering as Rommath squeezed around him in response. The clack of chains overhead marked another useless attempt against the unwavering control holding him in place.

Rommath’s pace slowed, eyes narrowed on him in masked consideration. A hand trailed over his chest, fingers following the edges of an old scar. 

“You can wait a little longer, can’t you?” 

“Yeah, but can you?” Halduron answered without thinking. Without remembering whose mercy he was under. “Come on,” he continued smoothly, voice hoarse from desire, “You want it deeper.”

Rommath’s hips stilled. Just the hot heat of him squeezed around, more maddening than his slow pace before. Halduron clenched his jaw against a beg, knowing he just needed to outlast Rommath. 

But Rommath was quick to sooth over his jaw, raising his chin to hold an intense gaze. It was only then—certain he held his full attention—that he lifted. The drag of his ass was achingly slow, squeezed around the head of his cock until he finally was pulled free to meet chill air. It was like he had to prove a point—stop riding because Halduron dared suggest what they both knew. 

A surge of betrayal furrowed his brows in confusion. Did Rommath intend to leave him here after all, cock aching and ignored?

“You better not come until I’m done,” Rommath warned, leaning back to support his weight behind him until he was sprawled before him. Legs open and inviting. His own cock was hard. Stomach covered in precome, chest in a sheen of sweat. “Fuck me the way I like it.”

Before Halduron could respond, the chains dissipated overhead and his arms fell. 

He grinned as realization dawned on him. A cursory stretch released stiff shoulders as he flexed away tension in his newfound freedom, gaze never wavering from Rommath stretched before him. He was freed, an insatiable tease was spread enticingly before him, and he had his orders. Unwilling to leave either of them waiting any longer, he surged forward in a wave of need until he tackled Rommath onto his back. Nestled between parted thighs, he had his cock lined up with where he belonged.

Halduron pushed. Pinned hips twitched in response, responsive to his every touch.

The feel was like returning home. 

There was no thought of savoring it. In a swift movement, he buried his cock in a powerful thrust that stole an unabashed groan from beneath him. Gone was any thought of stifled enjoyment. The sound and feel of Rommath surrounded him as he handed over power, trusting it wouldn’t be misplaced. Halduron’s head was dizzy from the pure arousal elevating every touch as he rewarded Rommath with another deep thrust. 

Rommath couldn’t keep his hands off. He traced over strong arms, hands sliding down his back in wordless need for more.

“There.” Halduron shivered when Rommath tried to pull him closer. “Isn’t that better?” 

He remembered Rommath’s chastisement on “better”, knowing his expectations. He wouldn’t make him ask for more. His gaze traced over Rommath’s chest, settling over the low glint of light reflecting over pierced nipples. They begged for previously denied attention. Still buried in Rommath, he lowered his head, teasing over one with his tongue.

Lingering remnants of control left Rommath’s body, a long moan on his lips as he turned pliant. He opened for him as a tongue played with oversensitive nipples, flicking at the barbell. It was as if they were wired to his cock, leaking profusely over his stomach, as clear as his desire. The moment Halduron engulfed one, Rommath’s ass opened to ease the way to slide deeper. The tension between them was eased with a gentle rock of hips in reward. Rommath arched into his lips, hips writhing with nowhere to go, enjoying the attention. Mouth suctioned over him, Halduron drove his cock in again, harder this time. The squeeze around his head took everything to not lose control and fuck him into the bed. 

But he restrained himself. Steady, deep thrusts gave Rommath what he needed, angled how he liked it, how he'd come harder, knowing how much he loved being blanketed by him. Rommath didn’t think he noticed—the way he breathed him in, savoring all of him as if it wasn’t enough to simply fill his ass. He needed it all. Hands claiming, deep breaths memorizing his fragrance, a mouthless trail of lips reaching for any part of Halduron as Rommath slowly came undone in the overwhelming sensation of him.

There—Rommath whispered, as if needing to wield his slipping authority, but Halduron already knew. 

He gave him what he demanded. Unwavering, he fucked him through building pleasure, the next command from beneath him caught on a low groan in the overwhelming sensation. He knew that sound, how it wouldn’t be long before the heat in his core spread in blazing pleasure that would have him writhing and cock drunk. Pliant and submissive.

But Rommath wasn’t content to simply hand control over to him, not yet. Even if commands were caught in his throat, he still demanded. His ass gripped around his aching cock as he slid out, teasing him with pressure that would have a less determined man come before fulfilling Rommath’s command. Locked ankles behind him fought to guide their pace. Tried to take him even deeper. And if Halduron shifted his angle, he would. He’d slide in to give that unspoken desire, having Rommath out of his mind in pleasure and his own release following suit. 

But he swallowed the urge to fuck in harder. 

He had his orders—fuck Rommath like he needed—and for that, Halduron needed to behave. Outlast the orgasm that Rommath desperately fought to hold back. The relentless pressure over his prostate wouldn’t let him withhold for long. It built and built until Rommath clenched around him, holding on for dear life while blinding pleasure ripped through him.

“Look at me while you come,” Halduron warned, an edge in his voice returned, freed alongside the banishment of chains.

Eyes snapped open obediently in response, glazed in lust. Not the harsh edges of the terrifying man who’d entered. Not the Grand Magister that so many feared. His cheeks were flushed, body in the throes of orgasm, looking as if he might lose himself if it weren’t for the steadiness of the body above him. 

He liked seeing him like this, Halduron spared in thought. Breathless and his.

Those parted lips deserved to be met with the passionate crash of need; full appreciation of all that he was. Halduron wanted to. Head dipping to meet them, he almost forgot himself. But despite abolished chains, he restrained himself with a sentence: Fuck me the way I like it. It was a command. Moreso, a provocation. Expectations uttered aloud as if there was any other option when the two of them came together. 

The heat of a single shaky breath was all that met parted lips.  

Instead, Halduron flipped Rommath onto his stomach then pulled him to his knees, his boneless body still pliant and in the throes of hot pleasure. His cock was back in his ass and pace resumed, hardly a missed beat. His hips didn’t falter through the clench of overstimulation. He fucked deeper, harder. Long thrusts that demanded Rommath realize who was in charge. 

“I—ah,” Rommath groaned.

“What?” Halduron growled. “I know that wasn’t enough for you.”

Rommath didn’t answer. At least not intelligibly. 

It was all he could do to writhe from the overstimulation. Ass still spasming from the intensity of his high, his body begged for a load, milking him in a hold that made him wonder how he’d survived the past weeks without. Furrowed brows and hands clenching at the sheets got Rommath nowhere, body held in place to take the punishing thrusts. 

If he hadn’t come already, Halduron was certain he would have already fucked a load into him. The euphoria of the flogging he’d received had him feeling invigorated, passionate, unwilling to relent so long as Rommath was in reach. Buried in him, watching their connection—how Rommath gripped him—neither were going anywhere. 

All Rommath could do was take the sweet agony inflicted on his oversensitive body. The way he liked it.

Halduron salivated at Rommath’s struggle. How his hips squirmed from pleasure turned pain. It scratched an itch—the part of him that wanted to see him cry out. It wouldn’t take long—never did.  Not when he was at his mercy and ready to submit. He shuddered at the thought of delicately pulling beautiful cries from lips that normally scowled. Relentless until Rommath’s lashes were heavy and wet and he was begging for more.  

Rommath groaned, teeth gritted as he took it. Despite his struggle, a white-knuckled hold over composure slipped.

“What, no more remarks on my stamina?” Halduron taunted between thrusts. He was answered with only a sob of agonizing pleasure.

It only enticed him. No one else had the mighty Grand Magister handing over power for the promise of a filled hole. Halduron told him so, relishing the way his ass squeezed around him in response.

“And unlike you, I don't need chains. Just a cock in your ass, and you turn obedient.” His thrusts grew more demanding as if to prove a point. Rommath only moaned through the overstimulation, unable to process the unending pleasure. “Admit it, this is all you want, isn’t it? All you thought about while I was gone.”

He was answered with something resembling agreement, but was too far gone to further tease an answer from him. 

He was on the verge of coming if he maintained his pace. The steady desire simmering in his veins grew unbearable, doubly so as he admired the way Rommath’s hole clenched around him. The sight alone had him damn near ready to burst, already anticipating the slick sounds of hot come fucked deeper. But the night was young. Rommath didn’t deserve it, not yet. 

Halduron pulled out, captivated by Rommath’s abused hole. The way he twitched and hips tried to follow him despite his firm hold keeping him in place.

“Please, please don’t stop,” Rommath begged, hips tilting back in encouragement.

It took everything to not meet the sweetness of his beg with a swift plunge back in. Resolve trembled with shaky breath, chest heaving as he battled against his own desire. He was so worked up that it wouldn’t take long to give Rommath what he wanted: the feel of hot come coating him in reward. And, damn, there was nothing he wanted more. His hand found Rommath’s ponytail instead, ensnaring his fist in the long locks and pulling sharply back to remind himself they weren’t done. 

Lips met Rommath’s ear, his own resolve restored at the renewed sight of Rommath squirming in a grasp that only grew more taut with his struggle. He couldn’t deny them of what they both craved; what they’d missed for far too long.

“I have no intentions of stopping,” he growled, aware of how Rommath shivered in his hold. “Need to remind you of your place, don’t I?”

Lost in singular purpose, Rommath attempted a nod, a litany of begs flowed freely while kneeling in service; his ass pressed invitingly against him in entreating need. He arched and writhed and begged so well, familiar with how each act of demeaning submission riled him up. The friction over his aching length was almost enough to make him think of forgetting the idea of punishment entirely. Almost. 

Rommath’s flogger still laid forgotten on the bed, leather lashes coiled and ready. 

“Hand me the flogger,” Halduron growled against his ear, relishing the shuddered sigh beneath him. The sudden stillness in his arms. 

Writhing need was forgotten as Rommath processed the command through cock-drunk desperation. His confusion melted into realization in the second that followed, having somehow never expected it might be used against him. In that look, he surely remembered how merciless he’d been with Halduron. What was coming for him in turn. It was endearing to watch. How time and power was enough for him to forget that they both could be equally merciless. 

Halduron released his hold of Rommath’s hair, letting him fall back forward onto hands that frantically fought to catch himself. 

“Now.” Halduron’s open palm landed against Rommath’s ass in a sharp slap that rang through the room. 

Rommath crawled to his punishment, picking it up before returning to where Halduron stood aside the bed. The flogger went forgotten as it was extended between them. Kneeling before him, Rommath looked up expectantly, already knowing what was to come and handing it over all the same. Eyes half-lidded in lust, they blazed bright as if they might burn, desire unwilling to be hidden away while he presented leather-bound trust between them. His hair was tousled, face still flushed behind a few unruly strands that fell from tight hold.

Already, he came apart beautifully.

Halduron’s hands cupped his jaw, raising his chin upward to meet him. He was beautiful, deceptively so. 

Parted lips begged for attention. And when his thumb caressed over Rommath’s bottom lip, a warm sigh fell in response. Soft and smooth—far more so than he used to once imagine. He’d once been surprised at how delicately he kissed; the passion kept locked away. Rather than thoughts of floggers and punishment, Halduron could only envision leaning down to take what had been denied, remembering all too well the feel of their electric connection. 

He shouldn’t do this, not now. Not yet. Not when Rommath knelt before him presenting retribution: his own flogger to be used against him. The thought alone had him twitch, excited, and mind racing at what was to come. The hold over Rommath shifted as he considered it, trailing through dark hair, gripping at where it was gathered behind his head. He’d find any excuse to touch, to pull, to curl silky strands between his fingers for no reason other than because he could. 

“So good for me,” Halduron praised, unable to bite back a smile at the way Rommath melted in response. 

With a swift yank, he pulled. 

Rommath’s lips formed around a yelp of pain. Flickering uncertainty melted back into soft trust as its sharpness simmered into a low whine. The sound, the first of many soon to come, went straight to Halduron’s cock and pushed him forward. 

The dulcet sound was swallowed by lips. 

An electric spark arced through them, vibrations of Rommath’s muffled moan humming against him. Halduron kissed him deeply, unable to forgo what he’d been denied before. Rommath was his, and he’d take him however he wanted. With roughness. With tenderness. With whatever pleased him because it pleased him. And the feel of it was indescribable. Flooding arousal threatened to whisk him down a current that bucked steadfast control.

Rommath pressed into him, opening to accept the hard kiss, and left them both breathless. Gone was the man who denied such closeness. He returned it with fervid desire, yielding as if this mattered more than anything. Like he was starved of him, famished. But perhaps they both were. Time and distance had kept them apart, longer than they’d come to expect. Two long weeks built a flame they’d delayed long enough. And after cold nights alone dreaming of home, perhaps they both were starved of another. 

The forgotten flogger still dangled precariously from Rommath’s hands, on the verge of being cast aside to quell a hunger. When Halduron’s grip closed around offering hands, the smooth leather of the flogger meeting his palm, Rommath tensed. The suddenness was as if he’d only then remembered they weren’t here for tender kisses.

Halduron pulled away, head swimming from the taste and feel of Rommath’s submission. The thrill of control raised goosebumps over the back of his neck as he weighed the flogger in his hands. Pulling leather through his grasp, he felt as if he’d truly returned home.

“Bend over,” Halduron ordered, deciding he’d wasted enough of the waning night. A smile curved over his lips. “Like when you want me to mount you—show me how much you missed me.”

He hadn’t finished speaking before Rommath presented himself as commanded, mind so far past anything other than obedience. Even teasing him would be useless in such a state, incapable of thinking beyond the immediate need. The gentle sway of Rommath’s hips tested his resolve. In a moment of inaction, Halduron was overcome with the sight of his deference. Rommath’s skin glowed under the soft lighting. Shadows traced contours over hard muscles where tails of leather would soon claim. Something dark triggered after being relegated to the other end of the flogger all night—ready to make good on fantasies of the evening.

“Stay like this,” Halduron directed, bridling his own need for a while longer. He could have sworn his heart skipped a beat the moment Rommath locked his eyes over his shoulder, watching in anticipation. “You’ll be good for me.”

Rommath agreed in a low moan. Then remembering himself he quickly added, “Yes, Ranger-General.”

Halduron grinned. 

Attention returned to the flogger, he turned it over. The balance of it was familiar, leather well-accustomed to falling across Rommath’s back. Raising it above his head, it was brought down with a force that didn’t allow Rommath to prepare. The sharp slap of leather against ass whipped through the air in resounding punishment. It pulled a delicious cry from its suddenness, ass jolting from impact but obediently staying in position. He laid into him. Over ass and thighs, watching as skin bloomed into angry red. 

As always, Rommath took what he gave him, moaning at each snap against his skin. On punishing swings, they caught in his throat.

“Please,” he begged, whether for more or less was left unsaid, but Halduron knew what he needed. 

He’d driven him to the brink before—that moment where Rommath would do anything to be filled again. If Halduron told him to bind himself in his own conjured chains, he would. He’d allow magic to betray him if it meant being fucked full. He’d fight the urge to drop their iron hold, mind clinging in compliance at the impossible task despite the inevitability of failure once Halduron slid home. 

But try as he might, he’d never been able to maintain the conjurations long after Halduron powered into his second hole. Relaxed and well-fucked, he’d be able to now with ease. 

Halduron bit back a smile at how Rommath begged already. It would be cruel to punish him like that. To hear how desperate he, a man who never took failure as an option, became when on the edge of failing. And the noises he gave—always such delicious sounds caught then spilled over his tongue in the moments when he finally realized the futility of his sisyphean conjurations. Harsh edges melted over his tongue like honey heated by a long summer day. The thought alone had Halduron nearly ordering him to summon chains to hold himself in place, a fitting punishment for denying him. 

But the desperation unfurling beneath his fingertips proved ruinous for his own desire to punish. No command was ordered. No conjurations would be called upon. Instead of the flogger, he took pity. The soft press of lips lowered to answer Rommath's plea. 

Placed over a blush of red, Halduron nibbled over his hip, hand working to soothe the sting from punishing blows. The whine he received was low and deep, so far gone that no sense of control or deprivation crossed his mind. It enticed far better than words, a call for Halduron to push back into him.

Halduron wiped sweat from his forehead, gaze fixated on sliding home. His aching length pressed against Rommath, seeking return. He pushed in slowly, more so than the first time, spreading him on the blunt head of his cock. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of watching himself slip in, still admiring the way his hole clenched around him. Not when Rommath made such pretty sounds for him, voiceless begs urging him on as his ass sucked him in further in welcome. It was snug and hot and required everything in him to not fuck with abandon. The gasp beneath him was like music. More intoxicating than the cries before, it held an unwavering pitch of resolved desperation. As effortless of a submission as the dominance he’d wielded mercilessly.

He could stay like this all night. Very nearly considered trying. He’d intended to tease Rommath as he’d teased him—a taste of his cock before resuming the flogging—but such thoughts were banished with the squeeze around him. Like that, he brought the flogger down again, a heavy thud falling against skin. It was no match for Rommath’s precision with the whip, nor his toying games. Another fell with all his strength, building a wicked heat.

The sound Rommath made was nothing compared to the squeeze of his ass in response. Another lash of the flogger earned him the same. Each strike brought about a clench so blissfully tight that it made him wonder if he'd lose himself if he kept it up. They fell uneven, uncoordinated—an unfitting punishment for what Rommath had made him endure. But the feel of it was indescribable, testing Halduron’s waning control as he snapped his hips forward. The steady slaps of skin against skin marked the tempo where the uneven falls of leather against Rommath's back failed. But together, he earned muffled cries. Rommath took the punishing thrusts as if he was meant for it. 

He supposed he’d never tire of sliding home, dragging out cock hungry cries. But he didn’t work for them to be muffled. They were his. Meant to be enjoyed fully. Abandoning the flogger to the bed, his hand curled in Rommath’s ponytail to free the sounds. He pulled and arched, leveraging their pace to enjoy each one. Each whimper, each moan spilled out freely and—fuck, he’d come if he kept it up. 

Rommath’s prior tempo had aimed to deny, withhold, build. Halduron had no use for such things. Unbound desire formed a deep, punishing pace, intent to leave nothing between them. Forceful thrusts robbed Rommath of breath as he worked his way in, grip pulling him even tighter in a promise he’d go nowhere but deeper. Even as his body reflexively spasmed in response, he held him tight until the head of his cock worked into the even tighter squeeze of his second hole. 

A voice accustomed to giving commanding orders broke as Rommath unraveled. He moaned—high pitched and long—the kind he only gave like this. To him. 

“There you go,” Halduron encouraged.

“I—more,” Rommath’s words of senseless need fell between the sounds of pleasure. 

Even senseless words had no business being spoken here. He wanted the sweet sound of submission, to fully relinquish any lingering control, even over words themselves.

Halduron obliged. A euphoric cadence of pleasure met his ears in response, his own deep grunts intermingling. It was demanding, dominating, a deep tempo claimed Rommath in a way he’d only allow with him. Caught in an embrace that left nothing between them—no room for masks or half-measures. It was honest. Open vulnerability he’d do anything to preserve. This was where he was meant to be; how they were intended to know each other. And he wouldn’t allow him to slip away. 

In instinctual need, Halduron hugged his waist and shoulder, keeping Rommath where they both needed. The full weight of him blanketed as deep thrusts drove deeper, dragging pleasure out between them. Heavy exertion fell over Rommath with each exhale, mouth hovered between his shoulder blades in the little place that drove Rommath wild. Gentle open kisses fell over him, soft and delicately placed, while his hips rutted in rough, pounding thrusts. It was enticement, it was determination. Heartfelt proclamation and dominant reminder. Another flush of arousal heated beneath his skin as Rommath’s hand clenched around his arm, unwilling to let him go while he gave himself over. 

The urgent need to come built, peak imminent. It wouldn’t take much, but he held out, extending their pleasure together for as long as Rommath needed, wanting more than anything to feel him come on his cock again. Sweat dripped over his neck, toes curling while Rommath rolled his hips back to meet his thrusts, body still demanding what he had no intention of denying.

Fighting against instincts, his pace stuttered, grown more wild, rapid like he needed this more than breath itself. Like that, he felt Rommath’s ass squeeze around him again, embrace tightening as his face bore the euphoria of coming. Each spasm milked his cock, begging for his load. And when Rommath’s body begged so sweetly, how was he to deny him? Why would he try?

Heated need spread through him, balls tightening. He ached. Plowed as deep as he could manage, it took only a few more snaps of his hips before he was spilling inside, breeding him so deep he was certain it would take the full afternoon before he’d leak out. A reminder of who he belonged to.

Through it, Rommath’s hips rocked back against him, ensuring each slid deeper, thrusts hotter and more slick than the last from come. The sounds of their hips grew more lewd—satisfying the urge to give Rommath everything he had. 

Halduron collapsed, cock still buried where he belonged. Satisfied. Drained. Not quite certain what he’d done to deserve the gentle trust Rommath allowed. In the rush of bliss, the realization became all-encompassing.

“You’re too good to me.” Halduron’s words rumbled against heated skin, pulling a shiver from sensitive nerves. 

Breathing him in, he nuzzled at the spot between Rommath’s shoulders, taking enjoyment in soft sighs of satisfied, speechless appreciation. A gentle squeeze at his arm answered in turn as Rommath fought to reclaim breath. For a little while longer they laid like that until the world came into focus, head clearing enough to think of moving. 

“I missed you,” Rommath whispered.

“I know,” he murmured. “Me too.”

They shifted, tenderly moving to cuddle. Halduron reclined against the pillow, soft cushions embracing him, and adamantly pulled Rommath to his chest. Tight arms wrapped around them both, each unwilling to let the other slip away. Not that there was any reason to. It was early dawn judging by the chill stillness outside. Only a few hours to go before the city would awake. The silence made way for the two of them. Their reunion. A homecoming.

A faint smile flickered over Rommath, so satisfied he didn’t even try to restrain it. Halduron’s heart skipped a beat as he watched, unable to resist pulling him even tighter. He remembered the first fleeting smile; the glimpse he’d long assumed was impossible for someone like Rommath to muster. It normally carried an edge, a warning. But never like this. He gave it over freely, and that, Halduron would never let go. 

When Rommath caught his gaze, a curiously soft smile over his lips, Halduron could hardly speak. How had he gotten so lucky? To return home to him, like this, remembering the rightness of each other’s arms…almost made it worth the separation.

Rommath caught his gaze and gave him an inquisitive raise of his brow. “What is it?”

Halduron opened his mouth to speak, but paused before melting into an easy grin. 

“You plead so well,” he teased instead. “Had no doubts you would.”

Rommath’s eyes narrowed, his faint smile taking a playful edge that made Halduron want to swallow whatever retort he was devising. “We both know you were on the verge,” he countered. “Next time.”

“Night’s still young.”

Rommath breathed a laugh. “Not sure I'd be able to walk.”

“All the more reason to stay here and let me take care of you. Not leaving until I fuck my come back into you.” Halduron felt a stir of excitement. The flimsy cuffs still hanging on his wrists gave him an idea. “Maybe we have time for your punishment later.”

Rommath looked upward, catching his gaze. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Was that not it?”

“Did it feel like it?” Halduron grinned. “I know I wasn’t gone so long you’d forget…or do you want a reminder?”

Rommath blushed freely, unable to deny how much he’d enjoyed it. The gaze that met him took on heated recognition of what he intended, the look of it stirring something inside that promised they wouldn’t leave Rommath’s home for much longer still. 

They had all the time for Halduron to restrain him until he watched his come drain and he was ready to fuck another load back in.

Rommath studied him closely. A clawed finger absently traced over his scruffy jaw. “How are you not exhausted?”

“Can you blame me? How can I sleep when you look like this?”

“Like how,” Rommath challenged, a surprisingly easy smile over his face.

Halduron nuzzled his nose against him, attempting to memorize the way Rommath looked. A rosy blush still lingered over his cheeks, bringing a charm that softened hard edges. Tousled hair bore evidence of how he’d come undone under Halduron’s attention. But more than that, unhidden warmth shone behind his eyes, the fel glow burning brighter under his appreciation.

“Well-fucked,” Halduron whispered over skin, smiling at the shiver it earned. “And mine.”

Rommath pulled him tight. 

“After breakfast,” Halduron promised, flashing a devilish grin. He wasn’t quite ready to leave Rommath’s side, enjoying the closeness. After the night they’d already had, a little rest would do them both good. But his mind already plotted. He hummed, tracing a finger over pink fuzz at his wrist. “Think these will look better on you. Guess we’ll see if they work just as well soon enough.” 

Halduron took a long draw, savoring the heat of fire over tongue and the back of his throat. 

The mingling earthiness of bloodthistle flooded his mind and eased away all lingering stress from the road. Mind and body fully sated. Relaxed. The smoke was held for a beat, gaze watching the lightening horizon grow over Silvermoon. Lulled by good sex, bloodthistle, and careful attention given to his hair. 

Rommath’s nails parted his silky hair, gentle tips pulling goosebumps as he sectioned a new area, idly forming small braids in the quiet of the morning. He could have sworn he wove peace into each one, hands taking a relaxing tempo that calmed better than thistle.

Halduron blew a long trail of white smoke, humming his appreciation as he nestled back into Rommath’s embrace. 

The cool air was carried on a gentle breeze above an awakening city and swept over them, pleasant against heated skin. As the gentle weight of a completed braid fell over his shoulder, Halduron wordlessly passed the thistle behind him. He could feel Rommath’s chest rise from his draw, the brief moment of pause as he savored it, and the slow release, body relaxing into the cushions of the divan. As if this—Halduron tucked between his legs, roaming hands soothing over his thighs—wasn’t close enough, Rommath wrapped an arm over his bare waist to pull him even closer. The weight of his chin laid over his shoulder.

“Exactly what I needed,” Rommath spoke softly against him, passing the thistle back.

Halduron hummed in response, then took another draw. Slow and steady and the entire morning savored. Another lazy release of smoke carried on the breeze, alongside the awakening chatter from the streets below. 

He had no intentions of rejoining the world for a while still, far too comfortable. But that didn’t stop Silvermoon from making itself known. A baker’s oven scented the air with the aroma of sweetened breads, reaching upward to Rommath’s balcony. Hawkstrider-drawn wagons were led to the market, filled to the brim with wares for another long day of trading. Wooden wheels creaked and groaned over uneven cobblestone, interrupted with an occasional ornery squawk. Even the songbirds didn’t laze about any longer—flitting between spires as the painted glow of sunrise faded.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today…” Rommath trailed off, voice dark from more than smoke. He took the thistle back, taking one final pass to finish it off before discarding it in a golden plate.

“Is that so?” Halduron asked as Rommath’s hold encircled around him fully, hands toying with the hem of linen pants. 

The pink fuzzy handcuffs sat inside, waiting to be used on Rommath. Like this, calm and collected, Halduron would be able to take his time. No fear of rushing Rommath’s unraveling desperation. It’d be a fitting punishment, as promised. 

And he’d been plotting since they first relaxed out on the balcony. Already knew exactly what he wanted next, and it didn’t include either of them joining the bustling city slowly awakening in the streets below. 

“In that case…” Halduron trailed off. He met Rommath's heated gaze and offered a mischievous smile in turn. “Where’s your collar? You’re gonna need that.”