Sex in C Major

"Hold still," Daz insisted, a sharp tap against Stefan's thigh reminding him of Daz's title. Sir. He was Sir. To be obeyed.

"Yes, Sir."

"Better."

There was no bite in the tone, and Daz's hands were firm but gentle as the tape was wound around Stefan's arms and wrists, binding them to his torso. And binding hard. The tape went around his waist, chest, neck, shoulders, arms, wrists- time and time again, layer after layer, until Stefan couldn't so much as squirm. His hands and elbows were completely encased, his fingers bound together into strange mittens.

And then he was kissed again. A little more forceful. His jaw was opened by hard fingers, and a tongue laid claim to the territory within.

Stefan's knees sagged, and he hung in Daz's grasp, breathing hard and helpless.

"What are you?"

"Yours," Stefan whispered.

"Good."

A hand pushed his knees apart. The empty feeling turned to an ache, a longing, as hot fingers ghosted around his arse and cunt.

"Still loose. Good. Relax."

Stefan tried his hardest to relax, but couldn't help but clench as something cool and plastic was slowly, but surely and relentlessly, pushed deep into his arse.

"Breathe."

Stefan took a gulping breath as the toy settled. It was smaller than the one from the flat, and slick with hot lube. But it still ached. He still felt forced open and-

He took another breath.

-filled.

He felt...

He cried out when the second began to push into his cunt, and clenched. A hand gripped his neck firmly and squeezed, and the sudden lack of air made Stefan go limp. The toy was pushed inside. His neck was released.

"Breathe."

He gasped for air, every heave of his trapped and constricted chest making the toys inside shift and settle. They weren't so big, but they were long. He felt as though if he were to bend, he would force them out and onto the floor.

And then his thighs were closed.

The tape began to wind around his legs, and Stefan stood, full and trembling, as Daz calmly bound his legs together. Layer after layer of wide, tough tape trussed him-ankles, calves, knees, thighs, arse. Everything was bound together until he was completely rigid and helpless, the pressure inside as insatiable and inescapable as it had been in the chastity belt.

With a lurch, he realised what he was.

Surrounded.

He was as trapped as though Daz had put him in a cage, or taken him to a gangbang. He could only clench and relax his muscles he couldn't squirm, wriggle, or anything else. The tape wouldn't yield, and he didn't have the strength to make it.

Two toys sheathed inside him, heavy and hard, and then secured in tape until he couldn't move.

Blinded and bound.

The world lurched as Stefan was lifted. He knew the crumple of the sofa, but he had been placed on a blanket, not the dark leather. It was folded over him, warm and soft over the harsh tape and then his shoulders were lifted, and his head placed in a lap. He was dragged onto his side, and felt soft cotton under his cheek. A hand rested on his shoulder, the other in his hair.

And Stefan-

Relaxed.

Bound and blind in his master's lap, he found himself relaxing. The heavy warmth of the blanket, and the hard press of the toys inside

He didn't feel so thin anymore.

And when the deep rumble of a double bass began to shiver through the room, sinking into the tape and the blanket and the flesh within, Stefan felt all the fear slipping away.

And leaving, in its place, peace. 14

Stefan was woken by movement.

He blinked sleepily at the ceiling for a moment, before trying to follow the shifts in the mattress. He twisted onto his side, still bound at the wrists and ankles, and stared.

They had made him stay the night. In their bed. It had been strange, trying to go to sleep in a bed that smelled of Yannis and with his master's boyfriend less than two feet away, but Stefan must have done it.

For the movement that had woken him was them.

Daz was clearly wide awake, spread out over Yannis and seemingly attacking him with kisses. Yannis was bleary-eyed and fending him off, but-smiling. Laughing. They were murmuring in their other shared language, but Stefan could catch the gist anyway. Fondness. Fun. Daz kept catching Yannis' hair and kissing him-short, sharp kisses to his nose, cheeks, eyelids, forehead, anywhere that Daz could manage. And Yannis, trapped under Daz's weight, was writhing like a fish, his kicks the movement that had jarred Stefan awake, to get away. Laughing. Protesting.

And then, quite suddenly, he submitted.