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It turns out that, for all the fuss that was made about it, this dance is actually very boring.
This is only just barely a surprise; any event that requires chaperones is an event that Lindsay generally doesn't look forward to. But it is true. Lindsay has had maybe a bit too much to drink, by now — he's accustomed to Bacchanal rites; the feeling is hardly unfamiliar — and successfully slipped away from his chaperone, and yet it is still boring.
"Right this way!"
There's a little alcove in the back of the house, with a door that shuts and locks. It fits two, if you don't mind accidentally brushing knees now and then.
He follows. He does not at all mind brushing knees now and then.
(This is a bad decision, he thinks as the door closes, but he doesn't want to stop —)
When the door closes, Ashley is kissing him.
He's firm, he leads the kiss; it would be so easy to just go with it and not think about anything at all.
It is. It's so easy, to put everything he's worried about aside.
He melts into Ashley, lets him lead and lets himself be led, lets his hands fall where they will.
Ashley has a hand in Lindsay's hair and he's pulling. He bites Lindsay's ear and then whispers in it, "Am I going to ruin you?"
His breath is hot.
Ohhhhh — he's, he's been dommed before but never like —
"I don't know," breathy and between gasps, "are you?"
He isn't a virgin but that was with other subs, that doesn't count, there's —
"Please," he whispers, and doesn't know what he's pleading for.
"Don't beg for something unless you tell me what you're begging for," he says, and his hand is so gentle when it wraps around Lindsay's throat.
Ashley kisses Lindsay, his hand around his throat, cutting off his air only the slightest bit.
He kisses Ashley back, presses forward into Ashley's hand — he's good at kissing, maybe Ashley will —
"Eager," Ashley chides into his mouth, and tightens his hand around Lindsay's neck.
"Quiet, unless you want them to hear you. Course, you might like that."
Asher's other hand is sneaking down the front of Lindsay's dress.
Ashley pinches his nipple.
"You'd like that, you'd like it if I dressed you up and paraded you around in front of everyone--"
He bites off the sound he wants to make — nods, then nods again, quicker —
"If they all looked at you and wanted you and knew that you were mine..."
Ashley keeps an eye on how much he's choking Lindsay-- enough to make his head swim, not enough that there's any risk of him passing out.
Skirts really give you very easy access. It's a design flaw.
"Please," just the barest whisper. His eyes fall closed and his back arches and he wants to moan and swallows down the noise —
"—not to beg unless I told you what I was begging for," very quickly. "Sir." He keeps pressing forward into Ashley.
"Good boy. I'm good but I can't read minds."
Lindsay's skirts are up around his hips and one of Ashley's hands is rubbing his dick teasingly.
The small bitten-off almost-moans are nearly constant now — his cheeks and shoulders are flushed, the blush deepens when Ashley calls him good boy —
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