The Ties That Bind

Michelangelo finally understood the meaning of excruciating, agonizing torture. His arms were bound behind his shell with the same rope that he had used on Donatello. The orange-banded turtle's ankles were sufficiently knotted together with the trailing length of that thick, sturdy rope. The turtle leaned against the wall, propped up on his brother's bed and endured not touches, nor pleasure. Instead, his sadistic brother was using the opportunity to subject the poor turtle to a seemingly endless punishment of which Mike didn't believe he deserved.

"And thus, we're brought full-circle to the constantly repeated rules that, combined, establish the BDSM motto: Safe, Sane, and Consensual."

It sounded like an end, but it may very well have been a trick. Donatello had been mercilessly subjecting his little brother to a lecture on the basics of BDSM. Power-play, the dominant versus submissive roles, the unfortunate accidents, and the precautions one must take to avoid them...

It was all so tedious!

Michaelangelo squirmed against the wall, careful not to lose his balance and tip over on his side into the bed. With his ankles tied together, as well as his wrists, righting himself wouldn't be such an ordeal. Unfortunately for the listless turtle, his knees were spread apart by a piece of pipe that had to be two or more feet long. The ends were tied securely to his kneepads, causing his spread legs to strain against the binding on his ankles. He had very few options in the way of positions, and was currently kneeling, resting on his calves, and praying that Don would show some compassion and end the lesson already.

He would have voiced such desires -no, demands- if his mouth wasn't occupied with the home-made bit that had been previously residing in Donatello's mouth. It still tasted of bitter, black coffee and the recognizable flavor of Don.

"Mmmfg. Hmmpg"

Donatello frowned at the restless turtle who shifted and mumbled on the bed. The purple-banded ninja opened what served as a junk-drawer and pulled out a small, shiny object. As he approached the bed, Michaelangelo felt a thrill shoot through his body. Something was happening. Things were in motion. He wasn't sure yet if he would like it, but it had to be better than sitting on his tail, unable to cover his ears during one of his brother's impromptu lectures.
The bed depressed as Don sat beside the bound turtle. "Were you listening at all?"

Not wanting a repeat, Mike nodded. He was confident that he wasn't about to be quizzed with a gag in his mouth, after all. His brow furrowed as he felt a small, metallic object being pressed into his hand. Don was quick to elaborate. "This is a bell. I use them to test some of the questionable pipelines, but this one will act as our safeword. Quite obviously, you won't be able to vocalize if I do something that makes you uncomfortable; simply ring or drop the bell, and I will stop. No matter what we are doing or how far along we are, I will always stop. Do you understand?"

His voice was soft yet firm, with an almost aggressive sincerity. Mike could never doubt his brother on such an issue, so meeting Donatello's eyes levelly, he nodded.

Pleased by the reaction, Don leaned in and captured Mike's lips with his own. He chuckled when the younger turtle all but melted into him, immediately trying to open his mouth around the gag for the other's exploration. Donatello pulled away from the obstructed kiss, and considered the confused look that he was receiving from his captive. How do you go about a BDSM fantasy when the sub is all too willing?

Don's hand went to Mike's inner- thigh, stroking slowly along the taut muscles. The other turtle squirmed, but was easily ignored. Don wore a thoughtful expression with unfocused eyes as his hand petted Mike's thigh distractedly, as if it were a housecat. A wriggling, straining housecat. "Mmmfg..."

"Hush. I'm trying to think."

His voice was gentle but chiding, sending a flare of indignation through Michaelangelo. He was tied up, immobile for the most part, in an otherwise empty lair. What was there to possibly think about? He voiced this through louder mumbling around the bit in his mouth. "Hmmg!"

And he winced at the sharp smack that landed on the inside of his thigh.

"I said, hush."

The surprise was quickly overshadowed by the rush of blood to Mike's groin. Donatello sat there, already lost to his thoughts again, and stroked the smarted thigh in a soothing manner. The sting was fading quickly, but the message was still very clear. He was expected to obey.

Yet it was the thought of disobeying that sent a thrill through his body. If he were to be so bold, just how far would Donatello go to keep him in line? If this was considered the punishment, then what would the reward be? Mike shifted again, trying to slide forward against his brother's hand.

"You don't seem to grasp the fact that I'm in charge, here."
Mike would have given his trademark devilish smirk, if it weren't for the long-suffering bit in his mouth. He did, however, manage an almost nonchalant shrug with the minuscule slack afforded to him by the rope. When all else fails, be noncommittal.

"Tsk, tsk. We're going to have to work on your behavior. Perhaps instill in you some decorum of discipline and self-restraint."
At Donatello's words, Mike slid forward another inch and rubbed his tail against the other's hand. Don fought to bite back the smile; his brother was in effect humping his hand. Amusing, yes. But also a poor display of obedience.

Mike's eyes widened as the hand gripped his tail tightly, holding it in place.

"I suppose we'll start right at the source."

Don pulled on the appendage, so that it was visible between the spread legs. His palm moved to the back of the tail, keeping a constricting pressure as well as exposing the more sensitive underside. With his other hand, Don stroked along the ridges with slow, gentle touches. Mike thrust forward, and made an audible squeak as his tail was squeezed tightly in a warning.

"No vocalizations. No movements. When you abide by these simple rules, you will be rewarded. When you disobey..."
Don gave the tail another squeeze.

"You may nod, if you understand."

A light sweat had broken over the younger turtle's brow as he struggled to keep his erection confined. He feared what would happen if he disobeyed while exposed. Don's hands were large, strong, and very adept; the squeeze on his tail had actually hurt. Not enough to stop, but perhaps enough to listen...

So he gave a slow, solitary nod. The purple-banded turtle allowed his features to soften a bit, then his hand returned to its gentle explorations. The occasional spasm in the tightly corded thigh muscles indicated that Mike was doing his part in controlling his reactions. Deciding that it was time to graduate on to bigger things, Don found the pouch near the base of the tail that was already bulging with Mike's excitement. He ran his thumb in gentle circles over the protrusion, coaxing the length out of its sheath. Mike fully exposed himself; his cock stood hard and strong, straining away from the tail as if seeking attention. Attention that Donatello was all too pleased to give, beginning with light, teasing strokes of his calloused palm.

Don stopped at the sound of a muffled groan. He rose his eyes slowly to meet Mike, who was staring at him in a mixture of arousal, shock, and repentance.

Donatello heaved a deep sigh, his voice soft but matter-of-fact. "If you misbehave during foreplay, I won't allow you to cum." The older turtle then wrapped his hand around the base of Mike's cock and gave a tight, abrupt squeeze. Michaelangelo fought the urge to cry out, both the effort and the pain making his eyes shine wetly.
"I expect silence, through any and all administrations."

Mike gave another, quicker nod in affirmation. Donatello ran a thumb beneath his brother's eye, wiping at the moisture and commenting in a low, awe-filled voice. "You're flushed and glassy-eyed...it looks good."

Mike could feel the blood rushing back to his member as it was released and it rose higher, harder than before. His breathing was erratic and all he wanted that moment was to feel reward.
"Now, do you want a chance to redeem yourself?"

The bound and gagged turtle blinked at his "master." Could Don read minds, or was Mike simply that pitiful-looking with his limbs tied and his cock straining hungrily and a little abused? Nonetheless, he nodded- vigorously, causing Don to chuckle softly. Hands came up to undo leather, and the bit fell away from Mike's mouth. He opened his mouth, then shut it, repeating this motion without words or sound. Once his jaw had settled, he gave his brother a questioning look, eager and curious.

Donatello shifted in his kneeling position, allowing his tail to extend and his erection to emerge, hard and ready.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he wanted. It was, however, a genius that guided Mike's head down, keeping him balanced and stopping him from tipping over in his awkward restraints.
And Mike opened hid mouth to readily accept the swollen cock, feeling it slide down his throat and trying not to choke as his head was pushed further down. He soon realized that he would have absolutely no control over this, no say in the rhythm, or how deep. It wasn't until Mike's nose bumped plastron that Don pulled him back, slipping out of him completely. Strong hands on the back of his skull kept him lowered.

"Now...do you think that you can be good while I fuck your mouth?"
A shiver ran through Michaelangelo, traveling all the way down to his extended member and making it jerk. He couldn't nod and didn't dare speak, so he flicked his tongue out to tease the slickened head. The other turtle made a deep, vibrating growl and shoved Mike's head down onto the waiting cock. The younger turtle choked at first, gasping for breath with every upward pull. He nearly dropped the bell, but did well in holding it securely. He adapted, finding Don's rhythm and pacing his breathing to accommodate. Honestly, the proper intake of oxygen was all that Mike could concern himself with, as Don did all of the work- thrusting up and pushing down with such speed and force that Mike didn't have time to attempt a suck or lick.

Don was grunting, moaning, gasping and mumbling Mike's name with barely coherent form as he let loose, grinding his tail against the other's face. If Mike could have looked up, he would have seen a blissful, slack face interrupted by snarls and grimaces that could only be caused by pain or intense, mind-blowing pleasure. The sounds were enough though, telling Mike that he was being used and thoroughly enjoyed. His eyes were wet due to the abuse of his gag reflexes, but his cock hung heavy and twitching. God, it nearly hurt to be so hard; never in his young life had he wanted to be touched as badly as he did right then. His forced-kneeling position made it impossible to hump the mattress, and his hands tugged at the rope- not to be free, but to sooth the aching need between his own legs as he brought his brother to orgasm.

With his mind on his own inability to cum, he was taken by surprise when his mouth and throat filled with thick, salty juices. Don's moaning had become a constant churr as he continued to thrust, leaving Mike with little chance to swallow. Because of this, the younger turtle's mouth would fill, and what couldn't be swallowed in time would run out of the corner of his mouth and dribble helplessly as the thrusts slowed.

Finally, Mike's mouth was free and he swallowed several time to regain control of himself. There was nothing that he could do about the line of semen on his face as Don pulled him up to set him on his knees again. He itched to wipe it away, but the look on Donatello's face made it worth it. The older turtle's lids were low, his expression very languid and satisfied. But his eyes...his eyes took in the sight of Michaelangelo with such appreciation and hunger, it made the other squirm.

Don crawled closer and wiped the cum from Mike's face with a gentle stroke of his open palm. He then nuzzled his face into the crook of Mike's neck, kissing the juncture at his shoulder. Donatello's voice was soft, loving. "What do you want for being so good? Anything..."
His hands slid around Mike's shell to fiddle with the ties, but he was stopped by a breathless, panting voice. "Leave it. Suck me off. Suck off your toy."

Don grinned and pulled back to settle between Mike's legs, nestling himself inches from the sensitive flesh. "You're my favorite toy...I'll take good care of you."

Mike's cock twitched at the words, his breath coming in audible gasps as he stretched his tail as close to Don as it would reach. And Donatello wasted no time in taking Mike wholly into his mouth, sucking with ferocity. Michaelangelo moaned loudly, his eyes closed and his head tilting back from the agonizing pleasure. All of the time spent teasing, the abuse mingled with the pleasure, the feeling of bringing his brother to the brink, of being wanted, needed, and used for enjoyment...it all came crashing down sooner than he would have hoped. Not that he had the mind to keep track of time as his world narrowed down to slickness, warmth, pressure, and shattering ecstasy. He screamed, loud and full of feeling as Don's throat closed around him- sending him in a bucking, mindless frenzy of release long-needed.

He wasn't sure when he had been untied or where Donatello had retrieved the cloth from, but Mike soon found himself wiped up and held in a warm embrace. There was nuzzling at his neck and his lungs had just about relearned how to breathe normally again. Despite himself, his mind wandered back to the initial lecture that preceded the event- he had never expected to like this 'BDSM power-play' thing so much, it was just a way of pleasing Donatello. According to what Don had told him, their activities would have been considered mild or light...but there were other things to try. It shouldn't have been surprising that his voice came out a little rough around the edges, "Does this make me a "sub," Don?"

There was warm breath along his neck as Donatello gave a sated sigh beside him. "If you enjoyed it as much as you let on."

Mike wound his legs around his brother's, snuggling closer. "Then, will you be my Master? I mean...for more than just tonight?"

Don gave a gentle nip, followed by light kisses along Mike's throat. "I would love to."