Captured Effortlessly (Ain't Nobody)

Epilogue - You Set Me Free

The loose ends of the rope were tied taut to the leg of the coffee table.

Secure.

The top part of the bondage Tin was held in reminded him of the first time he had met Can well over a year ago – though now, it wasn't just a harness to stabilise and relax his upper torso. Today, the rope was wrapped around his entire body. While he would still be able use his legs once he was unfastened from the table, his wrists were tied together behind his back, and a ball gag in his mouth currently stopped him from talking.

Tin's eyes were on his boyfriend, who was casually sitting on the sofa in front of him, leafing through a magazine, the image of a relaxed and unconcerned person.

His thoughts, Tin's entire attention zoomed in on the man on the sofa, the longer he was there on his knees.

Waiting.

Exercising patience.

Before Can had fetched the rope, had told him to strip to his underwear, and had started tying the first loops around him, Tin had been a nervous wreck, fretting over the premiere of the first movie his company would launch the next day.

Now... peace.

Tin's eyes never left Can, even when he got up to put away the magazine, or get something from the kitchen – until Tin lost sight of him when Can stepped out of the radius the setup afforded him.

But his attention remained, and he was immediately concentrating on him again when he returned, ruffling through Tin's hair as he passed.

Casually, more and more of Tin disappeared.

And there was only Can.

Can, who unfastened the ball gag at the back of his head and made him spit it out into his hands.

This was the signal.

The preparation was over.

Now, Tin would be nothing but a tool in Can's hands, an extension of his will, there to serve and assist. One that didn't speak, didn't think, didn't exist on his own for the duration he was held in place by ropes, and rules, and the cold discipline of a riding crop in Can's hand, feared and loved at the same time.

If Tin was good, if Tin understood his place, his function in this setup, he could be confident that their entire evening would flow by smoothly, like a river running its course naturally.

But if he struggled, if he didn't give his all, if the worries that had plagued him before returning home kept him out of his proper place, he would fail – he would be made to feel it, and get disciplined until he was where Can wanted him to be.

Where he wanted to be.

Tin wasn't like Kengkla, who constantly reassured himself of his place by challenging it and asking to be put back by force. And he wasn't like Pete, who was only fully himself when he was under Ae's gentle guidance, and who occasionally liked to cheekily provoke Ae into giving him a reward, barely disguised as a punishment.

The biggest comfort Tin found in this practice was allowing himself to disappear as a person, as both the powerful CEO and the messed-up black sheep of the Medthanan family, and hand over everything to his boyfriend for the short duration of their play together.

Sometimes, like today, it was Tin who needed it to find calm before or after a storm. And sometimes, Can needed the comfort of having an additional body at his disposition for whatever he needed to accomplish, one that was fully obedient and trusted him with his life.

And yet, Tin was the only one at Planets and around it, who didn't call Can by his title, Master Kirakorn.

When they played like this together, for Tin, Can wasn't merely a Master anymore. He was everything.