From an old GKM prompt: Artie/Kurt. Anything involving handcuffs, a blindfold and the phrase "If you fuck me over, I will fuck you up."

Warnings: Orgasm denial, BDSM, toys, dirty talk, possible dub-con

This got way longer than intended, and way more detailed too. Hopefully they're still in character, though Artie did turn somewhat subdued here and there.

Artie should have known something was up when glee club had begun and Kurt had sat in the back, his legs crossed and a wicked smirk planted across his lips. Usually he always sat with him, his boyfriend, in the front, or with Mercedes behind him, but Artie had ignored all of that in favor to listening to Mr. Schue drone on about how Sectionals was coming up.

Now though, now he was paying the slighter boy all the attention he had. Now that the choir room was vacated along with the rest of the school he knew he was in trouble, deep trouble, with the small countertenor.

There were handcuffs present, tying him down to the arms of his chair, and there was a blindfold hanging around his neck, a promise to be used soon enough - once Kurt decided it was time for it that was. He couldn't do anything but watch the boy before him where he sat primly on one of the plastic chairs, filing his nails and not heeding the wheelchair bound boy even the sparest hint of attention.

At least that was what the effeminate teen wanted him to believe, and Artie knew it.

"So..." Kurt began, lifting his nail towards the light to inspect it. "I heard from Puck that the reason you stood me up yesterday wasn't because your grandmother was ill." Fuck. And Kurt was using his 'I-may-sound-calm-but-I'm-really-unamused' voice. Double fuck. "I heard you spent your night with the guys playing video games. Ever plan on telling me this, huh? Artie?"

Squirming what little he could in his seat Artie tried to shy away from the look Kurt was now giving him, the steely expression on his face promising extreme torture in his future should he say the wrong thing.

"Uhm..."

Yep, that was definitively the wrong thing to say. Curse his inability to just. Shut. Up.

At least based upon the slight twitch of Kurt's lips, as if it wished to curl itself into a smirk, it had been the wrong thing to say. Artie had seen it happen once before - the smirk of doom as the club had dubbed it - but then it had been directed at Finn, and the moments fallowing it had forever ingrained itself into the memories of everyone present at the time. Simply thinking of it had Artie wincing. Just like it did every time he saw a feather boa.

Hopefully Kurt would be kinder to his boyfriend. For surely he wouldn't want to cause him any permanent harm, would he?

"Tsk, tsk, honey," his usually silky-smooth voice was laced with piercing danger and... was that amusement? Standing up and slowly advancing on him Kurt continued, "You really didn't think I wouldn't find out, did you? I always find out. Always." That last part was whispered into Artie's ear, the gush of air against his skin making the paraplegic boy shiver.

Artie watched warily as Kurt stood back up and began to circle him, moving around him time and time again as he spoke. "I hope you understand that I will have to punish you for your insolence Artie, because behaving like this – ditching your boyfriend, lying to your boyfriend, and for what? A round of video games? – is unacceptable. I will not stand being treated like this."

He turned around and began to stalk in the other direction now, still circling around his chair, and Artie had to strain his neck to be able to keep watch of him, shame rising within him at the though of potentially hurting his boyfriend like this.

"I went home during fourth period you know. I gathered up some supplies so I could properly discipline you. Take the handcuffs for example, they're here so that your hands – the ones you used to play those video games with – will not be able to touch anything during my little punishment, and that blindfold is there so that you wont be able to see anything – to punish you for keeping a better eye at your precious games than your poor, suffering boyfriend. I thought of everything you see."

Kurt stopped in front of him and placed his soft hands on his own bound wrists, leaning forward and speaking right in his face, his usually blue eyes dark with anger, "I will teach you that if you fuck me over, I will fuck you up. Got that?"

Scared to do much else Artie nodded obediently, swallowing harshly simply thinking about what the other boy might do to him. He's given a deceivingly kind smile in return – the one where Kurt bares all of his upper teeth, and where his eyes crinkle up in the corners – as if he wasn't about to seriously torture his boyfriend in only a few moments.

Artie watched as his boyfriend strode away from him, swinging his hips teasingly as he walked up to his messenger bag in the back row and began to dig through it with his back to him.

Artie's curiosity was immediately peaked, he wondered what his boyfriend was hiding in there. If there was something there designed to make him be embarrassed later like with the Finn-cident, if there was something there that would hurt him immediately...

"Now..." Kurt began slowly, still rummaging through his bag, "what I have in mind for you now might hurt a bit. It will definitively hurt later, when you're so desperate to come you would kill for it, knowing you can do nothing about it. Can't do anything if I'm not willing to give it to you. And you are going to get it alright."

At that the countertenor turned back around, the contents in his big pale hands making Artie's eyes widen dramatically, at once zeroing in on the big toy in Kurt's hold.

A buttplug.

Kurt was seriously holding the biggest buttplug Artie had ever seen, thinking about fitting that in his paraplegic body. The thought made him gulp in slight fear.

Now Artie enjoys bottoming for Kurt. Quite a bit too - Kurt's incredibly talented with his hips - though Kurt more often than not prefer taking on that part himself, usually by riding him. It's just easier, not to mention Kurt's prostate is far more sensitive than his own.

But he's never had anything of that size in him – and he's fucking tied down to his chair right now. How the hell did his boyfriend think it would work?Apparently Kurt could see the sheer confusion and dubious belief on his face, cause with a sigh and a wicked smile he's knelt down before him, the toy and a bottle of lube placed on the floor beside them.

"Yes love. You're going to take that plug, going to have it stretch you so wonderfully wide. I'm almost jealous thinking about it. And yes. It will be very, very, uncomfortable actually getting it in there, having to squirm you down your chair so I can reach your hole. Hurting your arms and possibly your back from being in such a compromising position. But," Artie watched as the older boy rose himself up slightly, hands on his thighs and his face now only inches from his own, "it will be so worth it."

He could feel the countertenor stroking the very top of his thighs - the parts he can still feel, the parts that are incredibly sensitive to any and all touch - as they stare into each other's eyes. Kurt's eyes are almost black, and Artie can tell it's all because of the lust and arousal coursing through his body.

Suddenly there's hands pulling his pants down, and how Kurt managed to unzip him without him noticing baffled the seated boy.

There wasn't much he could do to help the fashionable teen, with his hands tied down he couldn't really use his arms to lift himself, at least not much. But Kurt made do anyway, wiggling the fabric down so it pooled around his ankles, soon having his underwear joining the pants there.

Despite the anxious fear somewhat clogging his mind the anticipation from being in this situation - from going to be punished - Artie was already half-hard and it only took a dozen or so strokes from the deceivingly angelic boy before him before he was completely solid.

After a few additional strokes Kurt seemed to deem him sufficient, because he let his grip on his length go and began the tedious task of shuffling him down his wheelchair. First by scooting him down the seat a bit, then by lifting his legs away from the step they were resting on, only to scoot him down further down the seat again.

Artie could feel the muscles in his upper back and arms protest at the odd position already, but he only let himself grunt out lowly once. If Kurt was going to punish him this would prove to be nothing in the end.

Soon his pants and underwear are pooled around his ankles as Kurt has eagerly begun prepping him with a single finger as he left bite after glorious bite on his hipbones, just where he is most sensitive.

It's hard for Artie to get a good look at what's going on – the odd position he's in coupled with his now askew glasses left mostly everything in either a blur or hidden by his own body, but he had the most amazing view of Kurt laving his talented tongue over his bruised skin, and it made him grunt as his head whipped back, the glasses almost falling off completely.

"Please, Kurt..." Artie whimpered as the countertenor began trailing another slick finger around his rim, merely teasing him, seemingly no intention of breaching him yet.

"Shh... My pace, now hush," Kurt teases before sucking another bruise into the skin beside his bellybutton, finger brushing up his perineum and drawing a wide circle around his balls before going back to his hole.

It's another minute and several small bite marks across his stomach before the finger enters him, joining the other and beginning to slowly scissor him open, all the while drawing small mewls and whimpers from him when Artie can tell how close Kurt is to touching his prostate.

But it is obvious Kurt isn't feeling kind enough to actually rub against it, always avoiding the little bundle by such a small fraction it's almost cruel.

The nagging pain in his neck and shoulders – and his back for that matter – is left forgotten when a third finger pushes inside him, fucking him. Then again when a fourth enters him, and Artie is shaking from the need to come. He's so close. So damned close. At this point he's convinced a single brush against his cock or prostate would leave him howling his release.

"Ku-Kurt... 'mm close..." he pants out as he feels himself getting fucked over and over again, stretched further than usually already, and the stupid plug isn't even in him yet. Oh God...

Artie whines when Kurt immediately retreats his fingers from him, leaving him empty and aching, and it takes him a while to notice that Kurt is talking. "...good thing I thought about that. This will make sure you're not coming before I want you to."

With that a cockring, a fucking cockring, is clamped around his pulsing shaft, staving his impending release a little but also frustrating him to no ends from his sudden inability to come.

"Think it'll help?" Kurt asks with a smirk, a devilish look in his eyes. The minx.

"Yeah..." he whines, ass still clenching around nothing and cock twitching against his stomach despite the stupid ring curled around the base.

"Good. I think you're ready to take that plug now anyway," the pale boy smiles before picking the toy up. Artie watches as Kurt gazes at the toy, longingly, almost reverently, before lubing it up slowly, thoroughly.

He closes his eyes when he feels it tap against his reddened hole, and he gulps down a breath when the tip begins to enter him in a glacially slow pace, teasing him as much as it helps stretching him to it's sheer size. It feels taunting, being unable to speed up the process, to just press his hips down on the toy. He is already dizzy with arousal, and the teasing Kurt is currently doing is only serving to drive him mad.

When finally the widest part of the plug begins to stretch him Artie digs his nails sharply into the armrests, head falling back on it's own validation, simply taking it. He shudders when it at last slips in, suddenly feeling filled beyond reason.

Momentarily he wonders if the punishment Kurt was giving him was really supposed to feel so good.

Which was a particularly stupid thought to have, because of course things wouldn't be so easy. Because after pulling and pushing the toy in and out a few times – for his own apparent amusement – Kurt simply leaves it be and helps Artie back into his seat.

Whimpering brokenly as he feels it shift inside Artie watches his boyfriend under half-lidded eyes, pleasure making him too hazy to fully open them at the moment. Maybe later. If ever.

"Feel good?" Kurt teases him with a huge smirk in place. "Make sure to enjoy it while it lasts. And remember, you can't talk. Moan and scream all you want – I actually encourage that, I love listening to you scream – but you won't utter a single word. Got it?"

With that Artie feels his glasses suddenly being removed, his sight becoming blurry and confusing.

Not that it lasts for long. Soon the blindfold is tied around his head, making his world dark. There's a small hint of fear present again, but he squishes it down. He can deal with being cuffed, blinded and halfnaked – semi-publicly – as long as no one but Kurt is there to see him. Because Kurt wouldn't hurt him like that.

Would he?

"So vulnerable." Kurt comments almost adoringly. "I could do anything to you, and you would just have to take it, wouldn't you? Couldn't object to anything. I could bring anybody in here and you would never know."

But then he can hear the crinkling of fabric somewhere in front of him, and the sound immediately reassures him. There is no way Kurt would allow someone else to see him without his multiple layers shielding his body. Well, apart from Artie that is.

"I could humiliate you so bad. Could embarrass you so much you'd never lie to me ever again."

Kurt lets the idea rest for a little while, making Artie whimper quietly from the thought before he continues.

"But I won't. I have something better in mind." Artie can hear the smile in the countertenors voice, the satisfyment. "I'm going to make you listen, simply listen, while I fuck myself so hard, so good. I'm going to make you want me so bad you'd kill for it, but I won't give it to you. You'll simply sit there, unable to move, unable to touch, unable to do anything."

The last word is hissed into Artie's ear, making him buck wildly from the sheer want coursing through him.

Oh God. Artie already knows this will be torture, absolute torture. He's already desperate to come, with an idiotic cockring halting him from doing just that, and now Kurt wants to...

Yeah, he absolutely knows just the right – wrong? - ways to punish him.

Artie listens as Kurt moves slowly, sluggishly, through the room, already dead set on making Artie loose it. He can hear the pale teen when he settles on one of the chairs, probably beside his bag as Artie can hear him sorting through it.

Then there's suddenly a faint buzzing making him jump in his seat, gasping for breath.

The fucking plug vibrates?!

"Think you can handle it?" Kurt goads, not interested in the least for an answer as he immediately continues. "Well you will anyway. And it's not like you will be able to come unless I want you to, right? And I think you should wait. You should definitely wait for a long while. I'm not even sure you deserve to come."

Artie squirms against his binds, wanting to move. To either escape from the darned vibrations or grind down on them. Doesn't really matter which. But as it is... he doesn't really have the leverage for either.

He bites down on his lower lip to keep from cursing out when the vibrations intensifies slightly, to keep from pleading Kurt to let him come. Kurt had told him explicitly that he couldn't speak – and he won't, it will only make everything worse.

But he can't help from panting, from shuddering repeatedly and exhaling one broken whimper after another as he listens to his boyfriend's equally lust-filled sounds. He wishes he could see what Kurt was doing to himself, to see what made him give out such wonderful noises. He wishes he could touch.

Though obviously he can't, so his hands merely grip deftly into nothing but air. And when Kurt gives out a particularly gorgeous moan – one that Artie usually only hears when the countertenor is kneeling over his chest, slowly feeding his cock into Artie's eager mouth – the paraplegic boy's mouth water automatically, like some pavlovian effect.

Kurt was right – this was torture. Sheer, utter torture.

"Ooh, Artie! You should- you should see this." Kurt moans out obscenely. "See me fingering myself, stretched so nicely around my fingers. They're not as nice as yours though, not – uh! – not as wide. They're too soft too. I love how calloused your fingers are, how rough they feel against my skin."

Artie can sense the phantom feel of Kurt's beautiful little hole around his fingers. How soft and wet and tight it is to be buried knuckle deep inside. In his mind he brings forth memories of how sinfully angelic Kurt looks stretched around them. It's not enough. He wants the acutal feeling. He wants it so badly he's on the verge of screaming.

Instead a single frustrated tear falls under the blindfold, wetting the fabric a little.

He squirms slightly in his seat, accidentally moving the plug inside him so it rests right against his prostate. It's almost too much, having the vibrations stuck there, bringing him so close to that orgasm, that orgasm he won't be able to achieve. He whines out pathetically, wanting the vibrations gone, wanting just a sliver of reprieve.

"I'm fucking myself on them. Fuck- fucking myself so good," Kurt whines out. Artie can practically see it before him, can see Kurt lifting himself up and down those fingers – three in his mind – fucking himself to oblivion. He groans lowly at the images filling his mind.

"Mmpf! Feels so good, feels soo good Artie! Love being fucked like this!"

Artie feels light headed. He's drowsy from arousal, and it's only growing by the second, drowning him in it, and the only things he can focus on is the vibrations within himself and the wonderful words and other sounds Kurt is giving him, teasing him with.

"Gah! I'm close Artie, so, so close. Gonna come from fucking myself so hard, gonna – gonna..." Artie can hear the moment Kurt looses it, because he actually wails out, a high, long cry of absolute pleasure. Artie feels the saliva pool in his mouth, wanting desperately to taste Kurt's release, the beads of sweat across his body, his mouth...

Soon there's only his own moans filling the room – the vibrations from the plug strong as ever. Kurt's own harsh breathing had evened out rather quickly, as it always did. That kid had one seriously impressing recovering period. Kurt was probably soon ready to go again.

At times that really irritated Artie.

Like right now, because he had actually expected that Kurt would finally let him come, something he had wanted for a long time now, but instead it seemed like he would have to wait even longer.

"I want you to fuck me Artie. I want you to fuck me til' I come again, and then maybe, maybe I'll let you come. Maybe."

Evil. Fucking evil.

Artie could feel him climbing up into the chair, apparently being careful of touching his weeping cock, his limber legs soon resting on either side of his own. Arms wound themselves around his neck, and he stretched himself up, up, up, trying in vain to reach Kurt's mouth, wanting desperately to plounder it with his tongue.

"Ah-ah Artie. My pace remember?" Kurt chided happily, fingers scratching through the hair on his neck, and Artie, eager for any touch, shivered in response. He nodded quickly, hoping that agreeing to Kurt's words would make the countertenor kiss him.

Kurt rewarded him with a small kiss to his shoulder. Artie was about to complain loudly, wanting at the very least a real kiss after all this torment, but then he felt the vibrations from the toy suddenly ease up almost completely, only now a slight hum tease him lightly, and he slumped in quiet relief instead.

Those vibrations had tormented him for so long, had made him squirm trying to get away from them, had made him squirm to get closer to them, had driven him absolutely crazy with the need to come. It was amazing to be reprieved of that, even if it meant not coming in the end.

"If I took off the cock-ring, do you think you could wait for me to come again before you come yourself, or do you want me to leave it on? You can speak now, too."

Artie felt like crying. He wanted the darned thing off, wanted to throw it away so badly, but he knew there was no chance in hell he would be able to wait until Kurt had come again. Reluctantly he shook his head no, vocalizing the same message lowly, his frustration growing increasingly higher immediately.

"Good boy," Kurt murmured quietly before kissing him, and Artie sighed into it, sagging in the chair from the relief of being touched. "I love you," Kurt murmured into his mouth, and Artie whined silently, wanting to be even closer to the paler teen.

"It's okay. I've got you," Kurt reassured him, caressing his shoulders as he kissed him again, sliding his talented tongue into his eager mouth, mapping around the hot cavern easily.

Artie was soon lost in the sensations of kissing Kurt, and he almost missed it when Kurt sat himself down on his leaking cock. Almost.

"Mrph," he garbled into Kurt's open mouth, the tight heat around him so familiar and so delicious. Kurt snorted lightly in response, a fond smile grazing his lips.

"Classy."

Artie felt like hitting him. He really couldn't be responsible for his reactions at this point, he was way too far gone for that.

"Kiss me," he demanded instead, straining his neck once again upwards towards Kurt, searching for his luchious mouth but only finding his collarbone which he began to immediately lavish with broad licks.

"My-hy pace!" Kurt shrieked out when Artie latched on to the pale skin of the countertenors clavicle and instantly sucked. Artie could feel the slighter teen grip him tightly around his neck before setting a hurried pace bouncing up and down his cock. It felt so good.

It was a hard, brutal pace that Kurt fucked himself onto Artie's length, the smacking of skin resonating loudly through the choir room, the sound deliciously sinful to Artie's ears. As where Kurt's loud moans and mewls of utmost pleasure. They were heavenly.

Nails were scratching roughly down his back as Kurt grew increasingly closer to his release, in fact Artie could tell he was impossibly close to coming by the way his walls had begun to clench around him rhytmically with each drop down.

Artie was close himself, just as he'd been pretty much the entire time since Kurt had clasped that stupid cock-ring around him, but he knew that the quicker Kurt came the quicker he would reach his own climax.

That was why he determinedly nosed his way down Kurt's chest, searching the small, puckered buds that were so incredibly sensitive to touch. He actually gave out a small sound of glee when he found the tiny little nipple, before hastily latching on, nipping and licking as Kurt thrashed above him.

It was only mere moments before Kurt cried out, come spurting out between them, coating both of their torsos – which included Artie's sweater vest – messily as Kurt rode out his second orgasm. Artie, who had one small stripe of cum trailing down his chin, tried to reach it wantonly with his tongue, the salty flavor magical on his tongue.

Kurt slumped momentarily against him, resting as he regained his breath. Artie was only too happy to cuddle up with him, breathing in the heavy scent of sex and Kurt surrounding him.

"That felt so good," Kurt mumbled drowsily, pulling himself back into an upright position. "But – I think it's your turn to come now."

With that Artie could feel Kurt's hands fumble with the knot of the blindfold, and soon he blinked against the sudden light invading his eyes. Kurt had meanwhile lifted himself up from his lap – his still rock hard cock slipping free from Kurt's shiny wet hole – and hurriedly fetched his glasses.

It felt nice being able to see again, and he was staring insistently into Kurt's enchanting glasz eyes as the countertenor removed the cockring and fisted his erection firmly, stroking merely twice before Artie – at last – came.

They had cuddled for a long time once Artie had come down, Kurt sitting curled around Artie as much as humanly possible, giving as much of his touch as he simply could to the paraplegic boy. They had traded many lazy kisses, many loving looks and calming touches.

Kurt shifted slightly, enough to be able to reach the top of Artie's head, which he kissed gently, before drawing back and looking into Artie's expressive eyes.

"You do know you could have just told me the truth from the beginning right? I wouldn't have been angry with you for wanting to hang out with the guys. I always go out with my girls , why shouldn't you be allowed to do the same with the guys? I was only angry now because you lied to me. And not really angry either. Disappointed maybe, but not entirely angry." Kurt looked so incredibly sad it actually hurt more than the punishment had.

"I didn't mean to," Artie confessed softly, demurely. "I just, I don't know, it seemed to make sense at the time. I didn't mean to hurt you. I think that's why I lied to you in the first place, so you wouldn't get hurt when I didn't want to spend time with you."

"I get it. I do. I mean, I'm kind of a brat at times – hey, don't tease me! - but I would've understood. At least if you'd talked to me about it." Kurt spoke equally softly, curling his head into the arc of Artie's neck, nuzzling in there and breathing in the musky scent there.

"I... I know. Now at least."

"Promise me you'll tell me stuff from here on?"

"Promise."

"Good."

"Good."

They sat quietly for a while longer, simply breathing the other in, rejoycing in being so close. Only the sound of their soft breathing disturbed the quiet peace of the choir room.

Eventually though they realized how late it really was, and with that the trance was broken. Kurt got up from Artie's lap with a broad smile, hurriedly getting out a package of wet whipes which he cleaned himself and the sitting teen with. Then he quickly threw on his clothes while still making sure they sat impeccably on him, before ordering Artie to remove his soiled sweater. Artie watched as Kurt happily threw it in the trash after promising to buy him a new sweater. Which would surely be some kind of weird-looking designer piece, Artie thought fondly. He'd become quite familiar with the phenomenon after they'd begun dating.

Next came Artie's pants, which were somehow even more awkward getting back on than it had been getting them off.

It was only when he was reseated that he remembered. The vibrator. It was still in him...

"Uhm, Kurt? Shouldn't we take out the... the, um, the toy?" He felt silly asking, but he would feel even sillier later if he didn't.

"Nope." Kurt answered with a broad grin, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Now, if I remember correctly your mother invited me to dinner today. Think about how much fun we could have with that toy during dessert."

Kurt was somehow out of the choir room before Artie had even realized what he'd said. And when he did he felt himself redden heavily. He quickly hurried after the slighter teen.

"Kurt? Kurt? You're not serious are you? They're my parents, surely you wouldn't... Kurt?! Would you?"

Would he?