（ he makes a faint noise of amusement at that little act of defiance, and then he leans down to rub the mess more thoroughly across sasuke's face before wiping a hand on his hair and standing, stepping back. he puts his foot beneath sasuke's side and shoves him, intending to force him over onto his hand and knees. ）

There's a rack of riding crops along the wall. Crawl to it. Pick something out and crawl back. I'm going to beat you with it.

（ he, conversely, just sits back down in the chair, casually tucking his cock back into his pants. he sits in an open-thighed splay, one elbow braced on the chair's arm, the other loosely holding the collar's leash. there's just enough slack there that sasuke can reach the indicated display of implements — straps and crops and floggers, leather belts and assorted other implements for the purpose of nothing else but pain. they'd negotiated on a number, with the option to increase or decrease based on how the scene's going and what sasuke feels of his tolerance level — but by the way his cock has filled out, and how he's still playing along, cy has a pretty reasonable gauge on how he's feeling about what's transpired up to now. there's a swell of soft affection that all but takes him by the throat, and if sasuke happens to chance a look back at him he might see it naked on his face — the adoration and the love that are lit like a constellation across the set of his mouth and brow. ）