A/N: Okay, so we're going back a bit. I hope I don't lose anyone with these time jumps. xD So, just to recap, this is part of that first weekend Sebastian stays at Kurt's house, so Sebastian is going to be a little snarkier, a little less in touch with his submissive side, and super eager to do whatever it takes to get into Kurt's pants. He does a lot of introspection during this chapter. There's more parts to this installment, but the next one will have some Blaine Anderson wank, so I thought I would divvy them up.

Breakfast time turns to lunch time before Kurt gets them out of the shower and into the kitchen. He throws on a black tank and a pair of matching, loose fitting, lounging-around-the-house pants. Sebastian, however, is no longer allowed to wear clothes without his Dom's permission, so after he dries, he leaves the bathroom naked and follows Kurt to the kitchen. Sebastian stops when they get there, unsure where he'll be expected to sit/stand/kneel. If his official spot in the house is kneeling at the foot of Kurt's bed, he can't assume that he'll be allowed to sit down at the kitchen table with his Dom. After having spent hours at Kurt's feet in his club, he doesn't foresee too many chairs in his future.

Kurt turns when he realizes Sebastian has stopped following him. Deciphering the look in his eyes, he gestures to the table.

"You'll sit here for now," Kurt emphasizes, "while we have a bite and discuss business." He opens a drawer, pulls out a stapled bundle of papers that looks suspiciously like a contract, and tosses it Sebastian's way.

"Read through that," Kurt commands, talking to Sebastian with his back turned as he forages around the kitchen. "And don't just skim. Every word in that document is important. I want you to completely understand what it is we'll be doing here."

"Yes, Master." Sebastian feels like he's back at school, sitting in history class and reading through a syllabus written by one of Dalton's most by-the-books professors, Dr. Eric Carle, except that A.P. European History was never this interesting…or intimidating, not for all of Dr. Carle's thin-lipped scowls and antiquated "grading on a bell curve". Sebastian flips through the pages while Kurt works. He fires up the stove, grabs a pan from overhead, bowls from a cabinet, and gathers a few things from the fridge. Sebastian watches curiously from the corner of his eye. His Dom commanded him to read, not to watch, and he doesn't want to get caught breaking any rules, but Kurt is way too interesting to ignore, even while doing mundane things like cooking breakfast. Especially doing something as mundane as cooking breakfast. Kurt seems like the kind of man for whom mundane doesn't exist. Sebastian finds it difficult to picture Kurt doing anything domestic, this man who controls others with a riding crop and leather cuffs performing everyday chores like laundry, scrubbing the toilet, or mowing the lawn.

Or filing his taxes.

What does his list of work-related expenses look like?

It must read like a tawdry novel, or the prop list for a porn video.

Sebastian bites his lips together hard so he doesn't laugh.

He watches Kurt drop something into a pan, something that sizzles on contact. Sebastian takes a deep breath in. It's bacon.

"God, that smells good," Sebastian sighs, hunger talking for him before sense can kick in, his stomach growling a second later in agreement. He doesn't realize at first that he said it out loud, but the second he does, he immediately worries he's going to get punished for talking without express permission. This express permission thing is new to him, and will probably annoy the ever living shit out of him long before he gets the hang of it.

But Kurt chuckles.

"I'm glad you think so," he says. "But next weekend, you get to cook for me." Kurt peeks over his shoulder to make sure his new sub is being a good boy and doing what he's told. "You can cook, can't you?"

"Oh, sure, Master," Sebastian answers, eyes glued to the page in front of him. "If you consider fire extinguisher foam a spice, then you should definitely enjoy it."

Kurt's brows shoot up. He observes his sub, reading obediently, with only the subtlest trace of amusement twitching his lips, and tries to determine whether the boy's kidding or not.

He decides it could go either way with Sebastian. Better to play it safe.

"Maybe I should stick to the cooking from now on until I can teach you a few things."

Sebastian catches a suggestive implication in those words. It might just be him projecting because he hears a slant to everything Kurt says now. But he has to smile to himself. Of course, he knows how to cook. His parents' personal chef, Louise, has been giving him lessons from the moment he toddled into the kitchen. Louise felt that cooking was an essential skill, whether you're rich enough to employ an entire army of chefs or not, and that the only people who refuse to take the time to learn are ignoramuses who are obviously willing to starve.

But one of the first lessons she taught Sebastian was that cooking is an expression of love. To prepare a meal for someone is to fulfill an essential need. Food is comforting, sustaining, life affirming.

It expresses, without words, you're glad that they exist in the world.

Even though Kurt actually seems at ease in his French-inspired kitchen, Sebastian could probably run circles around Kurt, culinarily speaking. That doesn't mean he's going to make it easy on him. Kurt isn't the only one here who gets to have fun, whether Kurt knows it or not. Sebastian may not know what he's gotten himself into, but Sebastian would like to think that neither does Kurt.

Sebastian is on page eight of what has to be a thirty page document, printed front and back, when Kurt comes to the table carrying two plates. Sebastian looks up and notices that where Kurt's plate contains a single waffle smothered in fresh fruit, Sebastian's plate is piled high with waffles, fruit, eggs, and bacon.

Sebastian cocks a brow and looks at Kurt as he sits in the chair across from him and starts in on his single waffle, wondering when the other eighty-two people Kurt expects are going to arrive for breakfast.

"Is this…all for me, Master?" Sebastian asks over the pile of food sitting in front of him.

Kurt meets his gaze and mirrors his cocked brow expression. "Yes, it's all for you. Eat up, preppy," he says, seeming momentarily embarrassed. "You need to keep up your strength. We've got a lot of things to cover today."

Sebastian smirks out of habit, but squashes it quickly. "Thank you, Master," he says in a tone more seductive than submissive. He grabs a strawberry off the plate and pops it into his mouth. At this moment, it is literally the most scrumptious piece of fruit in existence, and not because he's starving. Kurt cooked for him, fixed this plate just for him. Sebastian is there to serve Kurt and yet Kurt made him this marvelous meal. Granted, Sebastian has no clue how he's going to eat it all, and he doesn't know whether or not he'll be punished if he doesn't, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Sebastian eats and reads, re-reading certain passages a number of times when he realizes that Kurt's eyes haven't left his face since he sat down.

"Is there something on there that you don't understand, preppy?" Kurt asks.

"No, Master," Sebastian says, reaching for a slice of bacon. "I just want to make sure that I read every word, like you said."

"Good boy. Here." Kurt passes Sebastian a pen. "Put your initials next to the things you agree to, an 'x' next to the things you don't, and a question mark beside the things you'd be willing to try. The things that are not negotiable on my end are printed in red. Those are the things I positively won't do under any circumstances."

Sebastian jumps ahead to a few of the red items. They mostly include things that Sebastian finds revolting anyhow – urine, feces, diapers, extreme blood play, needles. God, he doesn't even want to know what anyone would do with half of those.

"Then, why are they on here, Master?" Sebastian asks.

"It's preemptive, so if you become interested in any of that stuff later on, you can't say that I didn't tell you."

Sebastian nods. "This is…extremely thorough." And it is. He's sat in on his father negotiating takeovers with contracts thinner than this.

"I have to be," Kurt says. "For my safety and yours. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Communication is key in this relationship, probably more so than most relationships. You're trusting me with your body – the care and abuse of it. If we don't have communication, then someone will get hurt."

Sounds reasonable, Sebastian thinks.

He'd been on the fence for a grand total of seven seconds as to whether or not he should have a lawyer look this contract over, but that's only because he's his father's son. But that makes him curious if there are lawyers who handle these kinds of arrangements. Did Kurt have a lawyer help him draw this up? Maybe during a session, with the man tied to one of those pews at the club, while Kurt flogged him?

Kurt said he had a pew at his house. Sebastian gets a mental image of Kurt helping him with his econ homework that way, grilling him over the principles of macroeconomics while he wallops away at Sebastian's ass with his rose flogger.

Sebastian has to lock his knees together to keep from getting hard, especially since he's supposed to be learning to control that.

Calm down, buddy, he mutters in his mind. You're not supposed to be joining the party without permission.

Sebastian starts putting his initials next to things – bondage with scarves, yes; bondage with rope, yes; bondage with leather cuffs, yes; bondage with metal cuffs, yes; bondage with razor wire? Hell no.

Suspension? Maybe. Depends on what that entails…

Anal hooking? What the…? Fuck no! Well…maybe…

Watersports…like what? Wakeboarding? Diving? Water polo? What the hell does that have to do with BDSM? A tentative maybe.

Biting, yes.

Nipple clips…maybe.

Testicle cuffs…maybe.

Chastity/cock cages…uh, what's the point of…? Oh, fuck it! Maybe.

Sebastian looks back over the items he's marked, and notices with surprise that there are way more yeses and maybes than definite nos. He would have never guessed that in a million years.

This contract is teaching him something about himself that he never knew before.

Nearly half the food on Sebastian's plate is gone by the time he gets three-quarters of the way through reading. He hits on a passage that seems particularly relevant to their current situation, and stops.

"This says I kneel at your feet at meal times, and that you feed me from the table," Sebastian says. He looks at Kurt, whose eyes have suddenly gone dark. It looks like a challenge. Or maybe an invitation. Sebastian pushes his chair back. He doesn't stand, but slides to the floor, crawling over to his Dom's feet. "You mean…like this?" He stops beside Kurt's chair, raising his eyes up at him in question. Kurt puts a hand to the back of Sebastian's head and tilts it down, redirecting his sub's gaze to the floor.

"Like that," Kurt corrects. Seeing Sebastian on his knees by his chair makes Kurt's heart thump, each pump circulating blood straight to his cock. God, it's been so long…

"Are you hungry, preppy?" Kurt asks, licking his lips. But it's Sebastian, not the food, that looks delicious.

"Yes, Master," Sebastian says, even though he's really not all that hungry – not for food anyway. "Yes, I'm hungry."

Kurt reaches for a slice of bacon off Sebastian's plate and swirls it in a pool of syrup.

"Here, preppy." Kurt holds the piece of meat beneath his sub's nose. "Lick."

Sebastian keeps his eyes lowered. He's determined to play this game to the best of his abilities. He sticks out his tongue and licks, running just the tip up one side of the bacon strip and down the other, collecting all the syrup and gently swiping the tips of Kurt's fingers to boot.

"Now eat," Kurt commands.

Sebastian doesn't take the whole strip into his mouth at once. He starts at the far end and nibbles down the length, following with his tongue over his lips when he reaches the last bite.

"Clean." Kurt presses his sticky fingers to Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian doesn't know how Kurt's other subs perform this action. He imagines it's done as perfunctorily as possible. But Sebastian has motives other than obedience. Outdoing Elliott, for one. But maybe another lesson back in Kurt's bedroom? Sebastian wraps his tongue around Kurt's fingers one by one, drawing them in to his mouth, sucking the syrup and the bacon juices off slowly. He contemplates whether moaning while he does this would get him into any kind of trouble, but Kurt begins murmuring, "Oh, God…yes…your mouth is so fucking hot. So fucking hot and so fucking perfect," with his free hand already palming his cock. From where Sebastian kneels at eye level with Kurt's crotch, he can see his Dom's cock growing. Sebastian watches Kurt's hand yank down the elastic to his waistband, freeing his erection for Sebastian's view. The hand at Sebastian's lips grabs the hair at the back of his head and pulls him forward.

"Here, preppy," Kurt says, shoving his cock past Sebastian's lips and into his mouth, straight to his throat. "Suck on this." Sebastian scoots forward, attacking this task enthusiastically, but he doesn't really have control. Kurt is simultaneously shoving Sebastian's mouth over his cock and thrusting up. Sebastian reaches for Kurt's knees, holding on to keep his balance, but Kurt opens his legs wide, upsetting Sebastian's hands.

"Hands behind your back, preppy," Kurt says. "No touching allowed."

It's difficult for Sebastian, angled like this. He can't really kneel up comfortably with the way Kurt has a hold on his head, his back bowed, his neck bent. And if he could kneel up, he'd smack his head on the underside of the table. Sebastian's abs tense like crazy to keep him upright. This isn't exactly Sebastian giving Kurt a blowjob. It's Kurt using Sebastian's face to get off. The difference is exceedingly clear.

If anyone else tried this with Sebastian, they'd be in for a fight.

But Kurt…Kurt can do this whenever he wants.

Sebastian lets his mind go the way Kurt tried to teach him in the shower. He figures this is the perfect opportunity to practice that technique. If he can get himself to relax, he might be able to take Kurt better, overcome his body's natural reaction to struggle. He tries to relieve himself of pride and ego, which he never imagined he'd ever want to do, and resigns himself to being an object, an outlet for Kurt's pleasure. It doesn't seem to matter if he sucks or not, if he moves his tongue or if his jaw goes slack. He's simply an orifice.

"Oh, God, preppy," Kurt moans, pushing in deep. Even as Sebastian's mind finally begins to drift away, he gags. "Oh God fucking shit…"

Kurt cums down Sebastian's throat, sharp and bitter, so much of it, it shoots out Sebastian's nose and he starts choking. He considers that a success, but it doesn't fill him with the feeling of power that giving a guy a blow and making him cum usually does. Instead, he feels satisfied, pleased with himself that he could give Kurt pleasure this way. Kurt's cock pulses one more time against Sebastian's tongue before Kurt pulls out abruptly, pushing Sebastian's face away.

"Good boy," Kurt says in a breathy exhale. "Now come on out, preppy, and finish your food."

Sebastian snorts in, trying to clear his throat and respond. "Yes (cough-cough), Master." He backs out from under the table blind. His eyes sting; he can't open them all the away. He collides with the table leg, moving the piece of furniture an inch.

"Here you go." Sebastian feels a dish towel hit him in the face. "Wipe your eyes before you knock everything over."

"Yes, Master." Sebastian brings the towel to his face and blows his nose. "Thank you, Master."

"Did you enjoy that, preppy?" Kurt laughs. It doesn't sound mean. It sounds exhilarated. Relieved. "You enjoy me fucking your mouth over breakfast?"

Sebastian wipes his face, scrubbing semen from the insides of his nostrils and the seam of his eyelids. He's never had this much cum on his face before.

That was impressive, Sebastian thinks. Thank God I'm not a girl. How much good do condoms do if Kurt can cum this much?

"Yes, Master," Sebastian says, stifling another cough; difficult with Kurt's cum lodged in his throat. "Of course, I'd enjoy you fucking me no matter what."

Still blurry-eyed, he can't see Kurt deliberating as they sit together in silence, Kurt's rapid breathing slowing while his thoughts race.

"You know, you're pretty fucking free with your opinion, preppy. I usually only let my subs answer me yes or no."

"I'm sorry, Master" - Sebastian feigns innocence, finishing with the dish towel and setting it aside - "but I haven't gotten to that part of the rules yet."

Kurt huffs a laugh. "I shouldn't let you be such a fucking smart ass."

"Then don't let me, Master," Sebastian offers. "Punish me for it."

Kurt smirks at his egotistical sub thinking he's got the upper hand; that he's somehow in charge because he can switch on charm faster than Kurt can switch hair colors. Kurt remembers being that way, too, about many, many things. He remembers the trouble it got him into back in high school, and back when his journey into the scene first began. "You might not enjoy me punishing you."

"I'm here to be with you, Master," Sebastian says, thrilled that he seems to be getting what he wants but still wondering why he's behaving this way. He's never gone to this extent to secure a fuck before. He could say that he's turning the tables, seducing Kurt instead of Kurt controlling him, but he's not that naïve. What's happening between them is only happening because Kurt's letting it happen. He has all the power here. Sebastian's playing the game, but Kurt makes the rules. Sebastian has never wanted a fuck this much from anyone. And it's not just because of Kurt's body. There's an aura about him, something that can't be defined. Something that Sebastian wants Kurt to hold over him. "I'm willing to give it a try."

Kurt's forehead crinkles, and Sebastian sees his Dom thinking, trying to figure out what his new sub's angle is. Sebastian isn't adept at reading people. Not their feelings, anyway. He's never cared too much about anyone to try. But even if he didn't want to know more about Kurt, which he does, he can tell that this is a man who's been hurt by someone…hurt bad. And this guarded demeanor, part of his Dominant persona, is a shield he's using to ensure that it doesn't happen again.

"Well, we haven't talked yet about your limits and your boundaries. So how about I just fuck you?"

Kurt pinches Sebastian's chin and brings him to his feet, dropping him immediately into the nearest chair. He goes to a different drawer in the cabinet, one down from the one that held the contract, and grabs two skeins of blue paracord, a condom, and a bottle of lube. Sebastian looks at the four items, then at the drawer, and wonders how much of Kurt's BDSM supplies does he keep in the kitchen? Or are they all over, hidden in drawers around the whole house in case an impromptu session presents itself?

Kurt ties Sebastian to the chair - wrists behind him, connected to a length of rope wrapped once around his neck; hips to the seat back; and legs to the frame from his knees to his ankles. Kurt is quicker with a rope than anyone Sebastian has ever seen…or he imagines Kurt is, because Sebastian doesn't get to see too many people tie stuff up with rope. They may live in Ohio, as rural, cow-shittin', country-bumpkin a state as it gets, but there's not too much call for that in Westerville.

Kurt is definitely faster at rolling a condom over a man's cock than anyone Sebastian's ever seen, and that he's seen plenty of.

Kurt strips naked, tossing his clothes aside without a care, and climbs on to Sebastian's lap. He doesn't finger himself, does nothing to prepare besides lube up Sebastian's cock. He fits his body over Sebastian and slides on down. Either he's still fairly open or he likes the pain. Both possibilities match. But if it's pain he feels, he masks it well.

Kurt doesn't ease in to fucking Sebastian, he just does it, taking what he wants at the speed he wants, picking up right from where they left off. Sebastian can't see Kurt's cock from this angle, but he feels the hard, slick tip of it. Kurt puts his hand on Sebastian's neck and pushes his head back a bit. He's not cutting off Sebastian's airway. It's a gesture, one of ownership. He's showing Sebastian that he owns him.

And for Sebastian, it's one of the hottest things in the world.

Sebastian can't move. He can't turn his head. He can't adjust his arms or roll his ankles. He can't do anything but take what Kurt can dish out, and God – the guy's a machine. He grinds down in Sebastian's lap, then he fucks and fucks and fucks…then he stops and just sits, head tilted toward the ceiling with his eyes shut, and that – him sitting in Sebastian's lap like that – makes Sebastian burn. He wants to touch Kurt so badly. He rubs his wrists raw inside the ropes but he's barely moving them. Fucking like this, bound this tight, Kurt becomes everything, Sebastian's whole universe. And that's all Sebastian wants right now, Kurt fucking him until he's dry, until he's sore, until he doesn't think he can take any more, and then he does. He wants to sit there all day like this with this man using his body. He wants his body to belong to Kurt.

As far as Sebastian is concerned, it already does.

Is this what being a submissive feels like? This need to give himself over to this man? And not just in body and in obedience, but in thought and emotion? He still feels like himself. The sarcastic comments, he smart remarks, he kneejerk reactions that are far from polite, they're still there. The attitude that he's sure Kurt wouldn't appreciate hasn't been erased. It's just been attenuated. Those other submissives down at Kurt's club, what Sebastian saw of them, they seemed so timid, so content to be kept down, ordered around, spanked on a whim, and in some cases, physically stepped on. That doesn't appeal to Sebastian. Shouldn't it? Isn't that what being a submissive means? Sure, he doesn't mind kneeling by Kurt's feet and letting him feed him from the table. That was kind of hot, especially since it ended in that phenomenal blowjob. But not everything is going to be like that. He ended the contract right before a section titled "domestic responsibilities". That means cleaning and shit. And Kurt did say he expected Sebastian to cook for him. Sebastian Smythe only cooks and cleans for himself. He always planned that if he had a live-in boyfriend, they would need two separate bedrooms because no way is Sebastian dealing with someone else's mess.

So how come he doesn't mind the thought of doing it for Kurt?

Sebastian doesn't feel like he's changed, doesn't feel like his will has been magically zapped away, but he has changed. How did it happen so quickly? This…this whatever it is just seemed to click. Sebastian can't imagine feeling like this with anyone else. He never has. Whatever new part of him this is, as far as Sebastian can tell, it belongs to Kurt and only Kurt.

"Come on, preppy," Kurt urges. "You gonna cum for me like the good puppy you are? You gonna show me how much you want me? You better take the opportunity now. It may not come along later."

Bullet points from Kurt's contract flash through Sebastian's mind – chastity for one, but spanking, hooking, cuffing, marking, biting. All of these things that Sebastian doesn't understand but agreed to experiment with, various and yet unknown ways that Kurt can torture him, bring Sebastian to the edge, but then, not let him cum? The concept should offend him. Kurt's gall should repulse him. But it doesn't. It's a tremendous turn-on. Kurt's assurance, his confidence, his complete and utter control, his belief that he can assert them over Sebastian and bend him to his will…

Sebastian's realization that he can…

It overwhelms him, consumes him, fills him with a desperation that comes from knowing that this paradise can be denied him, this rapture building within his bound body is not guaranteed him. It makes every cell inside him feel like it's going to explode. It collects in the pit of his stomach, and with a jolt of his hips, he does.

Kurt sails on the wave of his own euphoria, painting Sebastian's sweaty chest with semen. He runs his fingers through the stripes of it, massaging it into Sebastian's skin, unconcerned with whether or not Sebastian orgasmed himself. But then Kurt tilts his head and looks at Sebastian sideways, half sadistic Master, half worried lover.

"Did you cum, puppy?" Kurt asks, not removing himself from Sebastian's cock. Sebastian feels that Kurt should know, that he should be able to feel Sebastian throbbing inside him, so there has to be another reason why he's asking.

"Yes, Master," Sebastian replies. It seems so clinical of Kurt to ask him like that, so detached, but there's an intimacy to it that Sebastian can't explain.

"So, preppy," he says, "how do you feel about everything we just did?"

"Good, Master," Sebastian says. His throat, raw from earlier on, tickles, and he starts to cough. "But if my throat still feels like this on Monday, our next show choir rehearsal is going to suck."

Kurt stares at Sebastian with eyes popped. "You're…you're a Warbler?"

"Yeah," Sebastian chuckles, then coughs again. "I'm co-captain."

"Well, fuck, preppy! Why didn't you tell me you sang?" Kurt scolds, gingerly feeling around Sebastian's throat. "I wouldn't have fucked your throat so hard if I knew that!"

"I…I'm sorry, Master," Sebastian says, both enjoying and perplexed by Kurt's current amount of fussing. "It didn't dawn on me to bring it up."

"Well, I don't want what we do here to ruin your future," Kurt says, giving Sebastian a slap. That seems to be how Kurt punctuates his life lessons – with a slap across the cheek so Sebastian won't forget. "Next time there's something I don't know that concerns your health or your life, you safeword and you fucking tell me!"

"Yes, Master," Sebastian replies, a sly upturn on his lips even with his cheek stinging.

"You stay there," Kurt commands, hurrying to untie his sub. "Finish your breakfast. Meanwhile, I'm making you tea and honey for that throat."

"Yes, Ma-" Sebastian starts, but Kurt puts a hand over his mouth.

"And you're going to stop talking for a while," Kurt insists, "if that's physically possible for you."