duplicitymemes | TDM #25

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«tdm

TDM #25

« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »

« « « ALL ON DISPLAY

It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy.

This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses.

To counteract the discovery of the deceit gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the LIEs program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the deceit gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from LIEs after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues.

... and you're here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity.

After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a paper gown to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of Orientation.

If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You're a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your high-rise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You're a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you'll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms.

Enjoy your free time until Orientation! Participation is mandatory for all new and past arrivals.

Skies are clear and the weather is warm.

» » » ALL ABOARD

After stepping through the door and participating in Orientation, LIERs are assembled together in the Up for a tour of Duplicity in its entirety. Seats are in pairs and randomly assigned to Dominants and Submissives alike. Traveling from Fiddler's Square, the train journeys through various parts of the Up, showcasing society and examples of lifestyle. Along the way, frequent stops are made; a variety of passengers can be seen exiting and entering the doors. A Dominant with a kneeling Submissive takes a seat near the front of the train at one stop. A small group of Submissives board and sit closer to the LIERs at another, all seemingly content in their roles. As the tour continues through the Up, the train passes close to the Market and White Wall Bridge and zips by North Park before heading into the Down and bypassing Red Wall Bridge and South Park.

The train makes a "final" stop at Riddler's Square, where inhabitants of the Down are instructed to return to their temporary housing. Those who live in the Up are permitted to stay on the train and revisit the same locations while returning.

« « « SUMMER SPECIAL

(cw: aphro/drugs)

LIEs has once again partnered with a local coffee chain, Peek-A-Brew, to promote their summer menu and help play matchmaker among those in the program. Along with the usual goodie bag, each character will be handed a small slip of paper after Orientation with a date and time, location, and three fun facts about a mystery partner they're to meet for a coffee date. These "facts" may or may not actually be true — they're simply meant to spark conversation. For the duration of the 1-2 hours the pairs are expected to spend getting to know one another, they will receive unlimited free iced coffee, tea, and lemonade and a discount on any other menu items. Seasonal specials include fruity parfaits and popsicles in a variety of refreshing flavors.

Naturally, all goods are spiked to make the consumers more agreeable, more truthful, and perhaps a bit more handsy than normal. Though the meetings are not mandatory, contact with the paper brings on an inexplicable sense of curiosity about meeting their partner and discovering who they really are.

« « « BEAT THE HEAT

(cw: aphro, temporary body changes)

With summer heat building, the natives are looking for a reprieve from the sweltering weather. All manner of frozen treats are being sold and consumed and it's not uncommon to see Submissives fanning their Dominants as they walk down the street or ride the train.

Sprinkler systems are running day and night in North Park and other city-owned patches of green and plenty of people are taking the opportunity to run and jump through the spray with little care for soaked clothing — or perhaps they aren't wearing clothing at all. Others have taken up squirting one another, as well as whoever is passing by, with water guns or hurling water balloons at anyone who looks like they need to cool down. Especially on the streets near the park, it's a wet and wild battle royale and all are welcome to join in.

Getting hit with some of those colorful water balloons and squirt guns temporarily causes those who get splashed to taste like sweet, mouth-watering summer fruits. It's not just their skin either — the effect extends to their sweat, saliva, and even sexual fluids and can last for several hours. Those around them will find it hard to resist having a taste.

« « « HANG ON TO YOUR HATS

(cw: violence, public nudity/exposure)

If you're out on the streets of the Down, it's not just your wallet you have to worry about losing. It seems that one of the local gangs, the Bulldogs, has set a new test for their junior members and those hoping to join: steal an article of clothing right off the body of someone in a public place. From snatching the hat off their head to slicing the shirt off their back, it's anything goes!

These junior initiates quickly get competitive, one-upping each other on who can complete the task in the most ballsy or outrageous manner. Some compete over who can collect the most clothing, either certain articles or overall, or who can score a full set first.

As word spreads and more people are going around suddenly missing part of their outfits, the Sparrows, a rival gang, decide to get in on the action purely for bragging rights. Rather than taking the clothing by force, they pride themselves on using stealth and trickery, leaving more than a few people naked and confused.

« « « MOD & OOC NOTES

Please read carefully.

On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but the assignments are OOCly randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right." When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass." This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice.

To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide:

If your character is more of an optimist, they are a Submissive. If your character is more of a pessimist, they are a Dominant.

To Note: Characters can only swap their designation for one of the following reasons: an event occurs that allows it or there are OOC reasons that make it a necessity. Any swap always requires mod approval and each character can only ever switch once. Characters that are being reapped will keep their previous designation but players can choose to use new TDMs with different designations for fun!

Test Drive threads can be used as activity proofs for characters currently in-game.

Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!!

» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I remember. That all makes sense." He supposes he never asked before because he usually explored everything new with Anders first, but bondage had been something he'd experienced first when Anders had to use him for a city punishment in that way and he never really had the heart to ask much for it. Not after the terrible experience they'd had with it. They'd played around still, but never in the way that Hawke really wanted to. Not like he had with Rose at the Creator's party. Andraste save him, he still thinks about that sometimes...

But now here's Chris. Offering. And Anders isn't here. Which sort of makes him feel that he shouldn't follow through. Would that make his love uncomfortable, someone else tying Hawke up? Or would he be glad for Hawke to get the opportunity to explore something he wanted to? That feels more right but is he just thinking that because he wants it more badly than he even thinks he does?

What happened to the 'fuck it' mantra?

"Full suspension seems a bit much, really..."

He can practically hear the gears turning in Hawke’s head. Chris’ eye turns sharper, gaze taking in the little shifts in his friend’s expression and the tension that ticks up in his jaw but seems to forcibly shove down again.

He’s considering, but there’s something holding him back. More important is the flicker of longing. Maybe it was for someone, but it didn’t seem distant at all. In fact, it was very in the now and that draws Chris’ attention further.

He shifts his position i. The chair again, knees bracing up against Hawke’s thighs while his fingers curl under the mage’s chin, not yet forcing him to look any which way, but promising he still might.

“It need not be full suspension. Could tie you to the bed. The chair…that table or even the x-shape there. We’ve options, you need only tell me you want to.”

Chris. Is a problem.

With this knuckles curled under Hawke's chin, scratching against his beard, and legs almost straddling Hawke's own. He does want this, can picture it any of the ways Chris suggests, himself tied and relinquished of responsibility just for awhile. Only required to receive, feel, and let Chris have his fun.

But Anders.

But Anders wouldn't want him to stymie himself. A third of the way to quota already on his first day? That would be helpful. Praiseworthy even. Or is he just thinking that to give himself the excuse?

He looks in Chris' eyes, sees the curiosity there, the playfulness, the hunger, and decides that if he's going to have to make quota anyway he may as well enjoy it.

Decision made, he places a hand on Chris' knee gently. "I don't suppose you have a spare collar around?"

Chris gives a rakish smile and leans in as he tilts Hawke's face up so he can easily press their lips together. It feels like an age since he's kissed Hawke. It's a comfortable familiarity, like a favorite sweater.

He lets the kiss linger, something sweet and slow that ends with a slight scrape of teeth to Hawke's lower lip as Chris pulls away. "Be right back."

He moves to the table and it's various containers, but goes directly to one with a few colorful items inside. He takes out a simple collar and returns with it already unbuckled. "If you decide on something more regular, I'll get you one with a dragon on it. Sit forward."

He tries not to moan into the kiss. Mostly succeeds. It's been... a day, maybe, for him, but also feels like years and he can't quite reconcile the disparity. Something to examine later, like so many other things. The point of his agreeing is all of that can wait until later. The point is also that this act will serve to force him to do that. Its progress, he tells himself, trying to get around the wrongness of it, the small amount of guilt that settles in his stomach. Not much, but its there, and he'll have to deal with it eventually.

"I'm not sure I can refuse if you're offering me dragons." He winks, sitting up and pausing just for a moment in thought before sliding off of the chair and kneeling before Chris instead. That feels right, a physical acknowledgement of the power dynamic in play here. It's not something he'd done before really, but he's apparently possessed of strange whims tonight. He swallows, once, again deciding something and then glancing up through the fringe of his hair at Chris standing above him with the collar. "A little on the tighter side, if you're comfortable with it."

He's a little surprised with Hawke kneeling, but he takes it in easy stride. "As you like. I've some lotion for chafing after." That part he's not terribly surprised about. If Hawke needed this kind of distraction, he needed that stinging sort that cut through thought.

Chris puts the collar snug to his throat and laces it through to the hole that seemed to keep it snug to his friend's skin...then puts it one more past that. Nothing that would constrict Hawke's breathing entirely, just enough pressure to be felt with every breath and every swallow. 'If he was comfortable with it' if he wasn't slipping into his own mindset for this, he might have laughed. That little bit of control over the other man's state of being? His comfort? His very breath? Yes, Chris was just fine.

He hooks a finger through the loop and tugs so Hawke's face comes to his thighs, then lets go in favor of threading his fingers through that soft white hair to keep Hawke pressed close while he surveyed the room. "Let's see...where shall we put you? The chair's all well and good...could tie bind you and have my way with your cock until you're spent...then maybe untie you and simply have you on hands and knees...hmm" He goes through the options idly, like it was only an innocent brainstorming of thoughts, his fingers carding through Hawke's hair all the while. "The bed's nice...have your hands over your head or tied to your own thighs...yes, maybe tied to your own thighs, but have your ankles bound and spread for me and we can attach your lovely collar to the bedframe. What a pretty picture you'd make."

Tight leather around his throat steals Hawke's breath for just a moment. When he next takes a breath there's pressure at his throat. Not too much, not too little, but just enough and his eyes fall closed for a moment to just feel that. To let himself indulge in letting go.

A moment later and he's pulled into Chris' legs by the ring, a move with sends a jolt through him that ends in warmth already pooling between his legs, fire stoked hotter with each option considered but not offered. Just put out there for Chris to survey and Hawke to have no say and that in and of itself is a relief and a pleasure that Hawke rarely examines. To let Chris take the lead and simply do with him as he will... when he's put in a similar position against his will he chafes and fights and ultimately gains back that control he has such a fraught relationship with, but when he's actively submitting? It's almost like a drug.

Each scenario spins through Hawke's mind's eye as he practically nuzzles into Chris' thighs, eyes a bit glazed for the digits carding through his hair. Himself tied to the chair and worked to exhaustion. Being fucked into the concrete floor, his hands and knees aching on the cold surface to be cared for later or carried as secret reminders.

The bed, though. The idea of being constrained and made to remain spread like a display for Chris to enjoy. A work of art for him to deconstruct slowly. That idea stops Hawke's breath again and he swallows, another shiver running through him at the pressure of the collar and the fingers in his hair that he has to brace one hand against the back of Chris' thigh to keep his balance there on his knees. That one, that one goes straight to his cock and his head. But Chris is in charge here. That's how this works, yes?

"Whichever you'd prefer of me, I'm happy to oblige." His voice is low and husky for all the want rolling through him. It's easy to see which position he'd prefer, but he's trying to play the good submissive and that in and of itself is also a small thrill.

He can feel that shudder through the other man, the clear interest in the picture Chris was painting. It was certainly one he was interested in...but that wasn't the point.

Chris's fingers turn tight in Hawke's hair and pull back, his other hand gripping his chin as before so Hawke had little other choice than to look up at him. With the added bonus of straining that collar across his adam's apple...how lovely a strain in the leather it made.

"That's not how this works, lovely...I gave you words...now you use them. Tell me what you want."

There's some part of him, the quieter part, that wonders if it's an act or if Hawke truly expected Chris to just make use of him without any lines drawn first. It was something to watch.

Chris forces his gaze up, demands an answer from him, and Hawke isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed to have a choice. Something to ask about later, he guesses. It feels like a breach now and he doesn't want to disrupt the scene.

"The last one, please, messere." I want no choice but to take what you'll give me.

He leaves that unspoken, not certain if that's the game here after Chris has demanded his input. Somehow his confusion doesn't worry him though. Normally he likes to know everything about a situation he goes into truly vulnerable, but Chris is one of the few he trusts this deeply and this readily. More than Anders? Alaric? He has to wonder, considering Hawke hadn't worked up to be able to ask for this, was concerned his loves would worry at him needing this. Alaric may have understood through his empathic abilities but Anders...

Maybe it's not about trust, he reasons. It's about not wanting to receive any sort of discomfort from them. He never wanted his relationship with Anders to include any strife. They had already suffered through enough of it together. Alaric too, Alaric deserved the softness he'd not gotten before their meeting. But Chris? Chris enjoys this. He'd told Hawke as much. Enjoys giving his partners what they need like any good dom - or partner really - would but also enjoys having the control to do so, pushing the limits if that's what's been agreed upon, and that is what makes this so much more appealing than asking Anders or Alaric for something he wants but not from them and knows they would dislike fundamentally anyway.

That eases the bleak feeling in his chest, lets him settle more easily into this role, though there is still a question of what exactly is expected of him. He'll find out the fun way.

"I want to be helpless for you."

Chris looks down at him, expression softening a moment for the answer and a littler smile graces his lips with the addition. "Good boy."

He lets Hawke's chin dip a little to something more comfortable, but follows by taking a knee and pressing a firm, claiming kiss to Hawke's lips. His tongue presses past lips and teeth like the older man's mouth was his to have as he pleased and hums lightly for it. He breaks the kiss when he thinks Hawke's deserved a chance to breathe freely again, and does so by simply standing and then tugging on the loop in the collar once more. "Stand. You're to help me take your clothing off in the sense that you'll move as needed to not hinder me. When you're finished, you'll go lay on the bed and await my joining you. Tell me you understand, Hawke."

Once he's got his friend to his feet, Chris releases him to reach up under Hawke's borrowed shirt and touch along the line of his abdomen while he waits.

A small fountain of pride swells in his chest at the praise and while he can feel himself trying to examine that reaction, for once he simply lets that examination fall away. He doesn't need it, not right now. This can be simple. He can just enjoy being praised and seek more of that out.

Like kissing back with a needy passion. Like sucking a bit on Chris' tongue before he retreats. Like standing when bidden, his growing arousal readily apparent for the incredibly tight pants Chris has put him in. He's not sure Chris couldn't make him come just by tugging at the collar insistently, which is a hell of a thing to realize about yourself.

"I understand, messere," he responds readily, lifting his arms to make it easier for Chris to manipulate the shirt. Its easier to be more in the moment with Chris' fingers not distractingly in his hair. Another thing he'll need to tell his friend when they've finished, though for now it gives him an idea that wars with his want to seek out that praise for being good. He nearly even says it, something about having to kneel back down so Chris can get the shirt off of him at all, but he refrains.

For now.

He slips the shirt up from Hawke and slings it onto the chair behind him. His fingers trail down Hawke's chest, brush over and past his nipples, and down to his stomach again. He doesn't hesitate or pause as he opens the fastenings to the pants and peels them from Hawke's hips, his focus more on getting the clothes out of the way than teasing the man steadily losing them. Jeans and smalls make their descent and journey over to the chair, leaving Chris once more kneeling, this time at a perfectly useful height with Hawke's hardening length.

Gods was that tempting...good things to those who wait or some shite.

He stands with barely a touch ghosted past Hawke's hip. "The bed, lovely, if you please." He presses his palm to Hawke's jaw, but then turns to go, fully expectant that his word will be headed.

He heads for the table with it's toys and boxes to gather what he needs. Silken ropes (red) and a slightly rough-textured, long strip of fabric, and the leather cuff set for all four limbs.

Its difficult not to lean into Chris' touch. He wants that too, wants to be felt and palmed and Maker the look Chris gives to his already heavy cock is nearly enough to break his resolve.

It does crack, just a bit. Hawke's head turns for lips to brush Chris' palm and fingertips snag in Chris' shirt as he turns to leave, Hawke not having stepped in any direction just yet. But another fleeting moment and he lets go, nodding and swallowing under that blessed collar, moving towards the bed as directed.

He pauses, his thumb brushing past Hawke's cheek for the kiss his palm receives and his tone is gentle but firm when he steps back. "The bed."

It's not cruelty that has him pulling away to continue the scene, but determination. Gentleness was already intended for after, it was usually his go-to for aftercare, but Hawke clearly needed it and would frankly be more likely to take it in this framework. With that in mind, his little armful gets a bottle of water and a cloth plopped in as well as the lotion for chaffing.

He brings all of it back to the bed. The Towel, bottle, and lotion find a place on the floor beside and Chris sets the rest on the bed beside Hawke.

"I want you to relax your muscles as best you can and take a deep breath. Let it out slow." One by one, he begins the work of securing each leather cuff to wrists and ankles. "As we're not playing any games of consent nor resistance here, 'no' and 'stop' work just as they should. 'Hold on' will also earn a pause, so don't use it unless you mean it. If you need the scene to end entirely and immediately, you will use your safe word which is..." He looks to Hawke, expectation in the seriousness of his expression.

"Sloth," he responds readily, perhaps a bit ashamed immediately after for just how much he sounded like a schoolboy eager to give the correct answer in class. A bit of color rises in his complexion but he settles back and exhales slowly, letting any embarrassment leave with the breath.

Gratitude, though, sits in him still. He'll probably speak it later but it remains in his expression now, a significant look at Chris before he settles back again, inhales deeply, then exhales slowly as instructed, willing the tension out of himself. It's a skill he's never really mastered but it helps somewhat to imagine himself willing, ready to receive here on the bed, but with no concerns of who would be disappointed in him for it, or feel betrayed or annoyed that he's indulging instead of doing as he should and arranging things for himself.

He exhales again, trying to breathe that worry and tightness from his chest, the tension from his stomach, and inhale the scent of leather and clean sheets. He feels safer now, with this structure. He always knew Chris wouldn't do anything to intentionally cross any lines Hawke doesn't want him too and moreover he has his magic to easily break free if ever necessary, but a guideline clearly sateted and Chris' serious gaze does more to make him feel that this was the right choice than anything else the younger man could have done.

"I'm ready," he says low, hearing the vulnerability in his own voice and sincerely not minding that it's there.

The vulnerability is good and makes sense and Chris pretends it isn't there while knowing keenly it is. "Very good."

When he's finished with the cuffs, he goes for the red ropes, silken and soft enough to leave minimal abrasions, but enough with movement. He feeds one end through the ring of othe cuff on one of Hawke's ankles and the other end through the metal loop he opens from it's place inlaid in the frame, then ties the ends with a tight knot once Hawke'd leg is pulled out towards the edge of the bed, nearly taught. In nearly no time, the other leg gets the same treatment with a new rope.

Chris strips off his boots, but leaves the rest as he settles between Hawke's legs on the bed. "You're already looking so lovely, Hawke...a sculpture nearly finished, but still to rough to be called done. Let's fix that, shall we?"

The last rope is long and he pulls a knife whose blade is clearly shaped like a feather when he flicks it open, and uses it to cut the rope in half. The knife vanishes back into his pocket just as swiftly so he can return focus to Hawke's wrists. "That dagger will be used to cut the ropes from the bed in the case you use your safeword, but it'll stay where it's at otherwise." There was no threat of pain or bloodplay here, even without what he remembered Hawke mentioning of blood magic. That sort of play required far more lead up and discussion.

He slides the rope through the ring on one wrist, slips it under one of Hawke's very nice thighs more than once, then ties it back to the other end. By the time Chris is through, every one of Hawke's limbs is bound with minimal movement intended, though he can still technically sit up if he desired. For now.

"Take another breath, Hawke. Take stock. How are you feeling? Any unease? Anything pulling wrong? Discomfort beyond the design...tell me fully and honestly, I will be displeased with anything less."

With the collar as tightly against his throat as it is, Hawke can feel his pulse quicken seeing the blade. His logical mind knows it's not going to be used on him but the bit of him that still looks out for Templars in the streets and bandits around corners panics just for a moment. Chris' words lay any fears to rest though, a soft exhale bringing him back to center.

Or, well, the off from center that finds excitement in being bound. There's something meditative about the ropes, just enough slide to be comfortable but a bit of scratch to undermine it. The rings at the side of the bed clack with metal on wood if he moves enough and he can't bring his feet together at all. He's at the mercy of Chris' whims and the reality of it leads Hawke to pant and swallow, the next exhale far more shuddery than the last.

So much for slowing his pulse.

"It's good. Nothing too uncomfortable or comfortable either." It's perfect

He curls and uncurls his fingers, testing the bonds again just for the clacking noise of the rings against the bed when he fails to move very far. He feels there should be something else he's doing, some more active role to take, but this prevents it, as is the goal, and he's bound (ha) and determined to try and convince himself that its alright. This is all that he should be doing right now. Figural and posed for Chris' pleasure in his bed.

"Good." Chris has one more item: the slightly scratchy sash. He nods for Hawke's answer and shifts to lay the fabric over his friend's chest so his nipples caught under it. Each end gets tied around a sizable bicep, just tight enough that each of Hawke's movements should cause the fabric to shift and catch.

"There you are. A pretty picture...I've only left to decide what to do with your collar." He pulls the small bottle of lube out of his other pocket and puts some into his hand as he offers his idle wonderings. Chris smears it between his palms, then takes Hawke in hand to stroke and pump his length with seemingly no real attention paid otherwise.

"Could tie it up to the frame above us, or back to the headboard....could leave it free for my fingers to pull as I like....next time, I'll have a set of those clamps with the chain, I think. You'd look good in such delicate chains..."

In his mind's eye, the sash over his nipples looks ridiculous, but he feels the intent in it when he shifts at Chris' touch, his posture changing as he rises to those slick, clever fingers and the course fabric rubs against the sensitive nubs. He grunts softly and swallows, feeling again the taught constriction around his throat and it's practically no time at all until he's hard and solid in Chris' hands.

"Do you think so? I don't often wear delicate things..." He's not trying for witty repartee or to undermine Chris for the fun of whatever punishment that might bring, he just earnestly has never thought of himself in anything delicate. His jewelry choices when he wears it at all is usually leather cord and wrought metal, nothing fine or dainty. Unfortunately, it does distract him so that he doesn't answer the issue at hand about the collar. Not that it was a question.

He looks up at Chris, lifting his shoulders slightly and that's enough to shift the sash again and send a shudder through him, pulling a heavy pant and pleasured groan as he settles back again. It's all he can do and while a great deal of him feels there's a wrongness in that, its one he'll revel in instead of fight.

The earnestness spares him the ire that might come otherwise and Chris considers that a moment. "A man of muscles wearing things not usually found on his form? Yes, I'd say so. Delicate chain, lace things...I've grown an appreciation."

He gives a squeeze along the length and tip of Hawke's cock as he moves to stand off the bed. "You're comfortable, right? Stay put a moment." Not that Hawke had much choice in the matter, but Chris would always implement a little control play. Besides, he needed something.

He goes back to the table and retrieves a metal leash, the handle of which he unhooks as he returns to the bed and climbs back on it. His tight pants certainly do little to keep the bulge of his own cock hidden, but he seems unperturbed as he stretches up to wrap the handle around the loop at the top of the frame above Hawke, then kneels again to latch the other end to Hawke's collar, though it leaves the mage needing to arc up a bit off the bed.

Chris looks him over and nods a bit to himself. "There you are..." His hand finally moves back towards Hawke's length, but only to run a finger up the side. "Nearly have you set for me, lovely...tempted to just fuck you senseless now, but maybe we'll play a little longer."

"Lace, hm..." The idea rolls around in his head, but Hawke can't quite wrap his head around himself in it. He'd had some fine shirts once he'd reclaimed the Amell titles but even then the lace felt more stuffy than he'd prefer and he always ended up with plainer things for day to day. Maybe its something to play with later though, try on just to see. Especially if Chris will appreciate it. Hawke is rarely against being appreciated, after all.

He's snapped out of his thoughts by Chris' sudden squeeze and then exit from the bed, pulling a sharp intake of breath and a bit of a smirk at what he takes as a joke from Chris in telling him to stay put. He likes it though, it sends a small thrill through him knowing that unless he flexes his magic or uses his safeword, he can't move. He's bound and held there comfortably, yes, but helplessly.

He notes the silhouette of Chris' own desire through his pants as he moves back and has to let out a long breath, trying to center himself, trying to make this last. It could easily not, with how the chafe of the rope and the rattle of the rings in the bed go straight to his cock. He tries not to imagine just how much more heady the sensation when there's pressure, when Chris bares down on him or pushes into him and he feels those ropes in earnest, shifting and tightening as he's rocked towards the head of the bed and--

No, no, soon enough. He closes his eyes and takes a deep and shuddering breath that turns into a moan just this side of a whimper when he opens his eyes quickly enough to catch Chris leaned over him to help him lift his shoulders just enough to latch the leash to the ring on the collar. When the other man pulls away, Hawke is left partially suspended, the length of the leash just shy of allowing his upper back and head to rest against the mattress, instead held aloft with the pressure of the collar at the back of his neck. It's not comfortable and its perfect in that slight discomfort, especially as he forces himself to bend up just a little to see Chris looking him over, abs tight as they're the only help he has to move at all. The chain jangles and he shudders, dropping back as Chris speaks so dirty to him and runs that teasing finger up his very hard and slicked length.

He swallows, hard and nearly audible. "Y-yes. To either, yes. I want-"

That's it, he thinks. He wants. He wants more. He wants to be fucked within an inch of his life and have the marks for days, he wants loving attention to his entire body, he wants to be left hung and wanting for just a while longer while Chris murmurs sweet and dirty things to him, threats and promises. He just wants and he doesn't know what to do with that feeling but its deliciously overwhelming and starting to drown everything else out.

Chris' brows raise and he makes an approving sound. "Very well, then. Good man being so aware of your needs." He leans over Hawke, balancing up on his knees as he presses kisses to Hawke's chest and pays no further attention to his cock.

"I'm proud of you." He offers softly to Hawke's skin and trails kisses down the long scar on his chest. A few more are peppered along the scar on Hawke's stomach and then lower to his abdomen.

He sits up again and retrieves the lube to coat his fingers this time. "We'll take our time, then. Just as you like." Exactly how long Hawke would like, Chris quietly decides, and reaches over between Hawke's delightfully spread legs to gently trace his fingers at the mage's entrance.

The warmth of that praise curls in him and Hawke swallows, the pressure not as much against his adam's apple now with the leash holding the collar taught, but its still tight enough that he can feel it there, changing his breath just so, keeping him in the moment.

"I'm proud of you," the murmured words make him close his eyes, making him take a shuddering breath and that warmth becomes a tightness in his chest as well, loosening slightly with gentle kisses to his chest and stomach and inexorably downward. He's not sure if he's displeased or relieved when Chris pulls his mouth away, pulls away those words, but he doesn't have the wherewithal to examine that either, nor the slight wetness he feels on one cheek. His mind is occupied, like his body, and that's all that matters just now.

He bites his lower lip and shifts in what little ways he can as Chris teases him ever so lightly, building anticipation, making Hawke's cock twitch with want and his breathing shallow in need. "Please," he murmurs into the air, "please."

His eye for the surrounding is sharp enough to notice the wetness at Wolfe's cheek, but he doesn't mention anything. IF that's what his response is, so long as he's not using his safe word, then it was what he needed. Chris wouldn't hold back from giving more. Especially with how easily he begs for it. Usually, Chris' partners resisted begging, to have it offered so quickly was it's own sort of rush.

"Oh, darling...whatever you want." His warning before he presses two fingers into Hawke. He said slowly, but Hawke was asking so nicely, he could be afforded two to start. Besides, it gave him ample opportunity to not only press those fingers all the way in to the last knuckle, but to spread them again as he pulled out. Chris takes up a steady pace of deep press into his friend and a slow, spreading stretch back out, his wrist turning and working the lovely body before him to get him ready for something bigger.

"You've never had my cock before, handsome. Always ridden yours and -while I'm looking forward to doing it again now that we can- more than that I want to fuck you like you deserve. Every time you've made my thighs shake with my orgasm, every time you've had me arching and moaning because you've pressed inside me...I'll pay you back, lovely."

He leans in to kiss Wolfe's cock.

"I'm going to fill you up so thoroughly, I expect to hear you howl."

There's a bit of that promised howl even at first, a moan he'd not known was even there escaping his throat as two fingers stretch and enter, his body riding just slightly to meet the blessed intrusion. He stretches and shakes and there's a slight burn of pain to it that's exactly what he wants in that moment. That and Chris' words, soft promises of being paid back for what he'd freely enjoyed giving, what he'd never expected anything for but quakes in anticipation of now.

"Fuck. Yes. I want that." His voice sounds thin and reedy to his own ears even as it rumbles in his chest between panting breaths. He lets out an almost whimpered 'oh' as Chris kisses his cock and it jolts in response almost on its own, quivering and starting to drip. He's never been so brazen, he's never one to beg or even ask, just arrange things as he likes and give what his partner needs or wants. But bound and displayed with Chris so patiently stretching him and the pressure against his neck and the soreness already working its way into his abs for the tilt of the suspension attached to his collar all has freed his focused from what he would normally have shame over and instead he simply speaks his mind. No filters, no shame.

"I want you to fuck me hard and dripping, Chris." He wets his lips, mouth dry from the admission but forging ahead regardless, taking a deep enough breath that his chest rises noticeably. "I want to forget I even have a use other than this. I want to feel it for days."

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