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By the time Shane saw Ilya again, he felt like he was going to explode.
The season was over and they were reuniting at the cottage. Shane had been there a few days already getting everything set up. Ilya had opted to drive this time, not wanting to draw attention to himself at an Ottawa hotel, but it also allowed him to pack his car up with everything he might need for the two weeks - a two weeks that would go by instantly, but joyously.
It didn’t hurt that, without Shane picking him up at the airport, some of the anxiety of being caught dissipated entirely, and, as he stopped at a red light not too far from his final destination, Ilya pulled out his phone to text Shane.
Lily: I am almost there. Take off your clothes.
Jane: Yes, sir.
Ilya smirked at the response and turned away from his phone, focusing on driving the rest of the short distance to the cottage. He took only one thing out of his car as he went to the front door. He let himself in, looking around.
“Shane?”
“Here.” Shane walked out of the bedroom, completely naked, as Ilya had instructed.
“Fuck. Come here,” Ilya ordered, his eyes flitting over Shane’s body. It had been weeks since they had seen each other, and Ilya wasn’t sure that he could keep his hands to himself, but he had plans, and he wanted to enact them.
He wanted Shane to beg for it. He wanted Shane sweaty, spent, and undone before him, and he was willing to put himself through the wait to get to it.
Shane leaned in for a kiss, but Ilya put his hand square on Shane’s chest, smirking as he pulled the leather collar from his pocket.
The way that Shane’s shoulders relaxed visibly as Ilya presented him with the collar sent a shudder through Ilya that he should have seen coming.
“Good, good boy,” Ilya breathed, buckling the collar around Shane’s neck, reveling in the way Shane’s eyes fluttered closed for just a moment as the leather encircled his throat.
“Thank you, Sir,” Shane whispered.
“You are welcome.” Ilya produced his car keys, pressing them into Shane’s palm. “My things are in the car.”
Shane bit back a smile.
“I’m naked.”
“So what?” Ilya looked around. “Is private. There are two million windows,” he said. “What exactly would be different going outside?”
Ilya delighted in watching the gears turn in Shane’s head, his chin tilting down slightly in submission as he realized that Ilya was right.
“Right away, Sir.” He took a deep breath and slipped into a pair of slides, bringing Ilya’s bags from the car while Ilya leaned against the back of the counter, watching.
It wasn’t much - he had brought a bag of clothes, a backpack that contained the box of toys from his home in Boston alongside a few other things, and a duffel with workout equipment.
“Okay, why did you bring a hockey stick?” Shane asked.
“Never know when we might need to practice.”
“Right.” Shane eyed Ilya suspiciously as he leaned the stick against the wall. “I think that’s everything?”
“Mhmm.” Ilya pushed off from the counter, moving over towards Shane. “Do you trust me?” Ilya asked.
“Yes,” Shane breathed, sinking to his knees in front of Ilya.
“Did I say to get on your knees?” Ilya asked. He backed up, taking the hockey stick off of the wall.
“No, Sir.” Shane’s eyes were locked on the hockey stick, his heart rate picking up as he tried to figure out what, exactly, Ilya was going to do to him with it. He trusted Ilya. He didn’t fear anything that was coming from the other man, but this, he couldn’t place.
“You look nervous,” Ilya said with a gentle smirk. “You can tell me to stop at any point. I will stop.”
“I know.” Shane nodded. “I trust you.”
“Such a good boy. Though, bad, for getting on your knees without me saying so, yes?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
Shane’s eyes remained focused on the hockey stick as Ilya took a few steps back. He placed the toe of the hockey stick blade under Shane’s chin, using it to tilt the man’s dark gaze upwards.
Shane was pretty sure that he stopped breathing as the sports equipment was used to control his head. He wasn’t sure what all Ilya had planned, but he was no longer trying to solve the riddle, no longer trying to anticipate Ilya’s moves, as he slipped into subspace.
All that mattered was Ilya and what he wanted, because whatever it was, Shane was certain that he wanted it, too…even if he didn’t even know it yet.
So far, Ilya’s creativity was commendable, and Shane was sure that this would be no different.
“You should be punished, no?” Ilya asked, head tilted to the side.
“Yes, Sir. I should be punished,” he whispered.
“Good boy. Get on all fours.”
Ilya did not remove the hockey stick from beneath Shane’s chin, and watched in delight as Shane operated around that, moving his body into the desired position, looking up at Ilya with a nervous anticipation.
Punishments were new. He had been nothing but obedient in the past, but now, he had been too greedy. He had attempted to guess what Ilya wanted before it was said, and now he was paying the price in a way that, honestly, titillated him every bit as much as had he been obedient and received the praise.
“Hold that position,” Ilya instructed, removing the hockey stick from under Shane’s chin, though he ran the blade of it down Shane’s spine, pulling it away and moving behind Shane. “Do not look back.”
“Yes, Sir,” Shane breathed. It wasn’t quite like being blindfolded, but he didn’t know what Ilya was doing back there, and as a result, he felt his entire body on edge as he waited for…something.
What he got was a light smack to the ass with the blade of the hockey stick.
“Oh my god,” Shane gasped.
“Too much?” Ilya asked.
“No,” Shane said instantly. “Not too much.”
“Do you want more?” Ilya asked with a smirk. “You did disobey…”
“I did disobey,” Shane agreed. “Harder, Sir.”
That was enough to almost stop Ilya in his tracks, but he pulled the stick back again, hitting Shane a little harder, this time enough to leave a slight red mark on that perfect ass.
“Again, Sir,” Shane gasped, focused hard on not lowering his head. “Harder.”
Ilya obliged, spanking Shane twice more with the stick, making sure to leave a mark, but not do harm. It was still early on in their play, and he did not want to push Shane too much too quickly, though he felt himself grow hard in his sweats at Shane’s reaction to being punished like this.
“Alright, is enough for now,” Ilya said, moving back around into Shane’s view.
Once again, he moved the hockey stick beneath Shane’s chin, using it to guide the other man to his feet.
“Bedroom,” Ilya ordered. “I will meet you there.”
Silently, Shane obeyed, his ass still smarting from the stick. He liked feeling the sting, feeling the punishment - it would serve as a reminder to obey, but it was also a reminder that Ilya was here, Ilya was controlling him, but he would also take care of Shane. There was little that Shane loved more than these times with Ilya, submitting to him completely, letting the other man push him to his very limits, tearing him apart…and then building him together with tender kisses and soft touches.
Without further instruction, Shane stood by the bed, not wanting to try and anticipate Ilya again lest he suffer another punishment.
Ilya unzipped his backpack, taking the toy box out and carrying it into the bedroom with a smile.
“Someone is happy to see me,” Ilya said, eyes flicking down to Shane’s cock, fully erect and clearly ready for him. “Hope you are ready to be patient.”
“Fuck,” Shane breathed, biting his lip. They hadn’t kissed yet, hadn’t even touched yet, Ilya was still fully clothed, and yet Shane was aching for the other man.
“We will get to that, but not yet,” Ilya said.
Shane’s eyes followed the box as Ilya set it on the bed and opened. The first thing that the other man pulled out of it was the satin blindfold. Automatically, Shane took a step towards Ilya, making it easy for the other man to tie the cloth over his eyes.
He absolutely loved the way that his other senses were heightened by the loss of his sight, as well as the removal of any ability at all to predict what was coming next.
Once the blindfold was secured, Ilya ran his hand down Shane’s chest, pulling away and slapping his hip hard.
Shane yelped, a slight smile gracing his lips as he did so.
“Beautiful, beautiful boy,” Ilya crooned, moving his hand back up Shane’s torso. He grabbed Shane’s right pec, squeezing, teasing the other man’s nipple with his fingers before flicking it slightly, drawing another short yelp from the other man.
“Too much?” Ilya asked.
“No, Sir.” Shane shook his head. “I’ll tell you if it is too much.”
“I know.” Ilya hooked his finger through Shane’s collar, pulling him close. “I will still check. I will not hurt you in a way you do not wish to be hurt.” Ilya punctuated his words by leaning in, giving Shane the softest of kisses.
Shane melted in the other man’s arms, tilting his body towards Ilya’s as he kissed him back. He had never trusted anyone, even himself, as much as he trusted Ilya, and he wondered if Ilya knew just how much he loved not having to think for a change. Ilya was calling the shots. Ilya would never do something to him that would harm him, and that just allowed him to completely shut off.
It was a rare feeling, but a welcome one.
“You still trust me, yes?” Ilya asked as he pulled away.
“I do.” Shane nodded.
“Alright. Stay there. Stand still.”
Shane obeyed, listening as Ilya rustled around. He whined a little, half objecting as Ilya undid the buckle on his collar. Shane had been eager to spend two weeks wearing the leather around his neck, two weeks belonging to Ilya and not having to worry about what marks were left on his skin.
“Shh, it’s alright.” Ilya pressed a kiss to Shane’s neck as, instead of removing the collar, he turned it around so that the buckle was fastened at Shane’s throat, the metal ring resting at the back of his neck. “Good boy.” Ilya dropped another kiss at the base of Shane’s throat, just below the buckle of the collar, before moving behind Shane once more.
Ilya’s hands ran down each of Shane’s shoulders, down his arms, gently lifting his biceps just above his elbows.
“Arms straight out,” Ilya commanded. “Keep them straight, do not lower them, do not raise them, do you understand?”
“I understand, Sir.” Shane nodded, using all of his focus to keep his arms out straight.
“Good boy.” Ilya trained his hands down the length of both of Shane’s arms before leaving him entirely. “Wait here.”
Every breath that escaped Shane was shaky as he kept his arms out, waiting for Ilya to come back. Shane was eager to understand what was happening, to know what Ilya had in mind for them, his entire body reacting to the anticipation.
It was difficult to track time, but Shane had been holding his arms out for a while when Ilya finally returned. He heard the sound of a few things being set down on the bedside table, but he didn’t dare ask after what they were.
Ilya would let him know when he was good and ready.
“Wow, look at you,” Ilya said, admiring Shane’s position. “Perfect posture, arms still straight…good boy. Keep them up now,” he said with a warning tone before rewarding Shane with a kiss.
As Ilya pulled away, Shane leaned forward slightly, chasing his lips, but quickly corrected himself, straightening back up.
Ilya huffed slightly, pleased with how quickly Shane was able to correct himself. He reached down, both as a reward and punishment, stroking Shane’s cock slowly, but just once, basking in the whine that Shane released when Ilya pulled back again.
“All things in good time, my love,” Ilya whispered, moving behind Shane. “Keep those arms straight, gorgeous,” he reminded.
“Yes, Sir.” Shane nodded, shuddering under Ilya’s touch as one of the now-familiar leather cuffs was strapped around his right wrist. Unsurprisingly, Ilya then strapped another cuff over the left wrist.
“Uh uh, arms up,” Ilya warned as Shane’s shoulders began to relax under the feeling of the leather pressing against his wrists.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Shane immediately corrected, re-directing his focus from the calm that washed over him at the feeling of the cuffs to following the directions Ilya was giving him.
What came next was a shock to Shane. He felt a firm, cold bar press against his back and the length of both arms, and it took a second for him to realize what it was.
The hockey stick.
“Hold onto this,” Ilya ordered. “Without moving your arms.”
“Yes, Sir.” Shane twisted his wrists so that he could grip the hockey stick, a rush of excitement flooding over him as he realized what was happening.
“Good boy,” Ilya said, pressing a kiss to one of Shane’s shoulders before returning to the toy box.
Carefully, Ilya looped a length of chain through the ring on Shane’s right cuff, wrapping it tightly around the handle of the hockey stick before locking it shut.
“Oh my god,” Shane whispered, gripping the handle of the hockey stick tighter as Ilya proceeded to lock his left wrist to it.
“Fun, right?” Ilya teased. “You can let go of the stick now.”
Shane did so, unsurprised that the chains kept it in place.
“This is okay?” Ilya asked as he looped a third length of chain through the metal run of Shane’s collar, locking that, too, around the hockey stick.
It added some pressure to Shane’s throat, but not enough to do any damage, especially not if Shane kept his arms out on his own.
“It’s okay,” Shane breathed. “It’s very okay.”
“Good boy.” Ilya moved back in front of Shane, kissing him softly. “If only you could see yourself right now,” Ilya breathed. “You look…incredible.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You will let me know if the strain becomes too much?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy. My very, very good boy.” Ilya gently stroked Shane’s hand. “I am going to give you a test.”
“A test?”
“Yes.” Ilya smiled. “A challenge, rather. If you succeed, there will be a reward. If you fail, there will be a punishment, you understand?”
“I understand.” Shane gulped, his cock twitching with arousal. “What kind of challenge?”
“You will see.” Ilya moved close to Shane, reaching behind his head and removing the blindfold.
Shane blinked as his eyes re-adjusted to the light, to the beautiful man standing before him.
“It will be easier this way, I think,” Ilya explained, tossing the blindfold away. He had never given Shane a challenge before, and he didn’t want to make it more difficult by taking away Shane’s ability to see what he was doing. “Open your mouth.”
Shane obeyed instantly, expecting the black silicone ball gag, but instead, Ilya lifted a hockey puck.
“Don’t worry, is new, is clean,” Ilya explained, placing the puck about half an inch into the other man’s mouth. “Bite down, hold it,” he ordered.
Shane gulped, doing exactly as he was told, holding the puck tight between his teeth, watching in shock as Ilya placed an empty shot glass on the exposed surface of the puck. Shane held his breath as Ilya picked up a bottle of vodka from the nightstand, casually unscrewing the cap and pouring a nearly full shot into the glass.
“Get on your knees. Do not spill,” Ilya instructed, looking straight at Shane.
Shane looked at Ilya for a moment, unmoving. Between his arms, bound straight against the hockey stick, and the full shot glass, he honestly wasn’t sure if he could do it.
Then again, Shane was a hockey player, and one that spent a great deal of time taking care of his body. He did yoga, he had the balance, and the fact that Ilya was asking him to do this meant that Ilya thought there was at least a possibility of success. Ilya would never ask him to do something he deemed impossible.
With that knowledge, slowly, carefully, his eyes as focused on the shot glass as possible, Shane lowered himself to the ground, his muscles straining as he managed to get on his knees without spilling a drop.
“Wow…” Ilya looked down at Shane, utterly impressed. “Very well done. Good, good boy.”
Shane felt the praise wash over him like a warm, cozy wave, and he couldn’t deny the feeling of accomplishment that radiated through him. His muscles were clearly feeling it, but Shane wasn’t about to quit. He was so enamored by Ilya’s creativity, by his own desire for the other man, and he quietly hoped that he had earned his reward.
“Hold it. You are doing so well, my good boy, would be a shame for you to spill now.” Ilya waited just a few more moments before reaching down, taking the shot glass, and sipping from it before setting it back on the puck. “Alright. Back on your feet.”
Shane was aware that Ilya had made this slightly easier by drinking some of the vodka, even if it had only been a little bit, but he also knew that getting to his feet with his arms bound without spilling a drop was likely a very tall order.
It took him longer than it had to get on his knees, but to Ilya’s delight, Shane righted himself, standing to his full height, perfect posture, the shot glass just as full as it had been when Ilya had placed it back on the puck.
“Incredible,” Ilya breathed, taking the shot glass off of the puck and setting it on the night stand. He took the puck from Shane’s mouth and pulled him into a searing kiss. “That was perfect,” Ilya praised, stroking Shane’s cheek.
“I liked that,” Shane admitted, his cheeks flushed both from the praise and the focus. “I liked completing the challenge, making you proud.”
“You always make me proud, but that? That was…wow.” He smiled, kissing Shane again softly. “Would you like your reward?”
“Yes, please.” Shane beamed, watching in delight as Ilya dropped to his knees, taking Shane in his mouth. “Oh…fuck, Ilya…” Shane gasped.
Ilya ran his tongue down Shane’s length, running one hand up Shane’s abs to his chest, squeezing, his large palm roaming over the available real estate as he eagerly worked to please Shane. He could feel his own erection pressing against his sweatpants, begging to be sprung free, but he focused on Shane, beautiful Shane, who, without question, had performed a very difficult physical task…with his arms tied to a hockey stick.
He knew that Shane liked giving up control, that he liked not having to think, to make decisions, but the way that Shane had so willingly executed such a challenging task had Ilya’s mind racing with future games they could play.
“Fuck, Ilya…” Shane twisted his wrists, grabbing onto the hockey stick, his knuckles going white as he gripped it. “S-stop or that’s…gonna be it.”
Ilya abruptly pulled back, looking up at Shane with a smile on his face.
“Look at you, already so flustered, so ready to come for me.” Slowly, Ilya rose to his feet. He took Shane’s chin in his hand and kissed him fiercely. “Don’t.”
The command sent a shudder coursing through Shane’s entire body, and he gulped, setting his jaw, determined to follow through with the order. Brown eyes watched as Ilya returned to the box, this time taking out Shane’s gag. Without having to be asked, Shane opened his mouth for it, and Ilya placed the black, silicone ball inside, kissing the corner of Shane’s mouth before pulling the straps behind his head, buckling it.
Shane sighed, relaxing further as Ilya claimed more of Shane for himself. Being bound, collared, gagged - Ilya was in complete control, and all that Shane had to do was listen, follow directions. He didn’t have to make any decisions, he didn’t even have to say anything.
“Remember,” Ilya whispered in Shane’s ear, biting down gently on his earlobe. “O’ Canada, if anything is wrong.”
Shane nodded readily. He was sure that he would never forget his own safety signal, but the fact that Ilya reminded him of it every time the gag came out only made him feel safer, more comfortable, with letting Ilya take control.
“Come with me.” Ilya slipped his hand under the belt of Shane’s gag and tugged, using his hold on it to guide Shane forward, out of the bedroom, down the hall, and back towards the entry way.
Shane watched, curiosity lighting up his eyes, as Ilya removed art from the wooden wall separating the entry way from the dining room and kitchen, carefully propping it up on the other side so that it would not be damaged.
“You are so beautiful, Hollander.” Ilya put his hands on Shane’s hips and turned him, pushing him stomach first against the wall. Ilya slicked up a couple of fingers with lube, running the heel of his hand down Shane’s spine before separating his cheeks, inserting one finger, and then quickly another.
Shane groaned into the gag, pushing his hips backwards, sending Ilya’s fingers deeper inside of him. Shane was stiff, so hard it hurt, and he knew that he wouldn’t last long once Ilya was inside of him, so speeding up the process was, certainly, in his best interest.
“Fuck, so eager, hmm?” Ilya grinned, kissing the back of Shane’s neck, just above the collar, as he inserted a third finger.
Shane let out a strangled moan that sounded like ‘please,’ though the ball lodged behind Shane’s teeth distorted the word enough that Ilya couldn’t be sure.
“Good, good boy,” Ilya breathed into Shane’s ear, removing his fingers and smacking Shane hard on the ass.
Shane gasped, hands once again gripping at the hockey stick as Ilya rolled on a condom, lubed it up liberally, and grabbed Shane’s hips. He squared up behind the other man and used one hand to guide himself in, the other grabbing the hockey stick that Shane was bound to, pushing it forward so that Shane’s chest was pressed flush against the wall. Shane turned his head, his cheek flattening against the wood paneling as Ilya pushed inside of him.
Yeah, he was definitely not going to last long.
Ilya was far from gentle, but it was more than welcome. He thrust into Shane hard, leaning forward and sinking his teeth into Shane’s shoulder. Shane let out a cry, and for the briefest of moments, Ilya stilled, listening for Shane’s safety signal, but he was met only with garbled moans.
Normally, they couldn’t leave marks, but out here, where they had two weeks all to themselves, Ilya could bite down on Shane’s shoulder, leave teeth marks, know they would be there in the morning, but not by the time Shane had to remove his shirt in the locker room again. As he pulled back, seeing his mark on Shane’s shoulder only spurred him further. His fingertips dug into Shane’s hip, the other still holding the hockey stick as he thrust hard against Shane, this time, finding Shane’s prostate.
Shane cried out, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back, rewarding Ilya for his hard work with a moan so sinful Ilya thought for a moment he might be finished.
Shane was undone. Strangled words that sounded an awful lot like ‘fuck’ and ‘Ilya’ rang out through the cottage as Ilya thrust again, aiming for the same spot, and earning another cry of pleasure from Shane as he succeeded.
“Alright,” Ilya grinned. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he growled, hitting Shane’s prostate for a third time.
Shane didn’t have to be told. He came hard all over the wall, panting as he collapsed against the wood, held up only by Ilya’s hands on the hockey stick and his hip. Moments later, Ilya finished inside of him with a loud grunt, leaning forward, his sweaty chest pressing against Shane’s bare back.
“Fuck, Shane…” Ilya released the hockey stick, fumbling to remove the condom and toss it aside before helping Shane to turn around.
Dark hair was stuck to the sides of Shane’s face, his eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed.
“Beautiful,” Ilya whispered, reaching up with his finger and wiping away the strip of saliva on Shane’s chin. “I do not know how it is possible, you are better every single time.”
Shane whimpered as Ilya reached behind his head, removing the gag and letting it fall to the floor. He kissed Shane, his lips soft and gentle against Shane’s own, punctuating the long kiss with a short peck as he pulled away. Ilya undid the chains that wrapped around the hockey stick, letting it clatter to the floor as Shane’s arms fell to his sides.
Once Shane was free of the hockey stick, Ilya scooped him up, carrying him bridal-style back to the bedroom they shared. He set Shane down on the still perfectly made bed and leaned down, kissing him. He removed the cuffs from Shane’s wrists, but left the collar. Shane lay on the bed, watching, boneless, as Ilya sat down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard. Carefully, Ilya brought Shane up to him, resting the man between his legs, Shane’s back to his chest.
“How are you feeling?” Ilya asked, running his hands up Shane’s arms to gently massage his shoulders.
“Good,” Shane whispered. “I…fuck…that feels good.” His lead lolled to the side as Ilya massaged him, grateful for it, as his arms had been screaming from their positioning by the time Ilya had finished.
“I did not hurt you?”
“No,” Shane shook his head, just once. “Liked it. Loved it. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Ilya kissed Shane on the cheek as he continued to massage him, working out all of the tension that he could find in Shane’s neck and shoulders. “Can you be alright here for a minute? I want to clean up the wall before it gets too dry,” Ilya said softly, dropping a gentle kiss to Shane’s shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Good boy.” Ilya gently eased Shane down so that he was resting on the bed and hurried off. He cleaned the wall, though he didn’t bother with re-placing the art just yet, and returned to Shane quickly with a warm towel and a glass of water. He gently wiped Shane clean, handing him the water before crawling back onto the bed with him.
“I really liked that,” Shane whispered as he sipped at the water. “The…the challenge, the reward, I liked…” he sighed. “Proving myself to you.”
“Oh, Shane, you don’t have to prove a thing to me,” Ilya said with a smile. “But…I liked it, too. It was really fucking hot.”
“I didn’t think I would ever be able to trust someone enough to give up control like that, but with you…” Shane shrugged. “It’s almost easy, well…no, it just…is easy. You would never push me too far, if I asked you to stop, you would stop.”
“In a heartbeat.” Ilya nodded. “I want nothing that you do not want for yourself.”
Shane reached up, gently feeling the indentation in his shoulder where Ilya had bitten him, smiling softly as he did so.
“My collar’s still backwards,” he mused.
“Ah, true, I will fix it for you.” Ilya carefully unbuckled the collar, turning it and re-fastening it so that the metal ring hung at the front of Shane’s throat.
“Better.” Shane smiled.
“You really like it, don’t you?” Ilya gently brushed his fingers over the high-end leather.
“I love it,” Shane nodded. “I love being yours. I love wearing a reminder of it around my neck. I wish I could wear it everywhere.”
Ilya chuckled softly. “I think that would raise a lot of questions.”
“I know.” Shane leaned into Ilya, resting his head against the other man’s chest. “But it’s nice to think about…everyone knowing I’m yours.”
“I know that you are mine,” Ilya kissed the top of Shane’s head. “And you know that you are mine.”
“Always.” Shane nodded.
“Always,” Ilya agreed. “How is the drop?”
“It’s starting to creep in, I think,” Shane admitted.
“Let it,” Ilya held Shane close. “I am here.”
“Always,” Shane said again, his eyes closing as he snuggled against Ilya.
“Always.”