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They hadn't used it yet.
The toy, large and intimidating in their extra office-turned-play-space, was like an elephant in their bedroom that neither wanted to break the ice and approach.
Sure, it had been a mutual agreement to purchase the new toy, but with it came the unspoken addition of a whole new level of intensity. Eddie had been in a mood of power for the past two weeks and had already had his wicked way with his happily subbing husband once, leaving the taller man effectively wrecked to crying pieces and then some. But now, they were crossing the line into uncharted territory. It wasn't like a sybian could be used in anything other than a very intense scene— and for good reason. With the ability to tie one up, all it took was a high setting and some proper ropes —often coupled with their penchant for sensory deprivation—for a scene to become as dark as the two were willing to go.
But Richie was getting impatient.
The toy had cost a lot, and for good reason; it was highly rated and worked incredibly well. He wanted to test it, be it on himself or on Eddie. He didn't mind if he used it first; it gave him ample opportunity to see how strong it really was and gave him a baseline on what his more-sensitive husband's body could handle.
It was by no means an insult on Eddie; Eddie had always been a sensitive person, in every sense of the word. Deprivation was far more intense for the smaller man because everything Richie did was heightened tenfold if another sense was taken away. Being fucked often left him in over-pleasured tears by the time he came. Domming had him in-scene and demanding respect and obedience that left him hard as could be and practically shaking from the desire by the time he got Richie where he wanted him to be. And subbing... God, Richie felt heat pool in his belly just at the thought. Seeing his poor husband, tied up and gagged or blindfolded, sobbing for Richie and begging to be touched, coddled and cared for no matter how deep and rough the scene would be once he came...
"Richie, are you listening to me?" Richie's head perked up from where he had dazedly been staring at the mostly-eaten plate of chicken marsala in front of him, and he laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah, babe, I'm listening," He said, trying to remember what they had been talking about before his mind jumped the gutter.
Eddie didn't seem impressed, crossing his arms with a teasing scoff. "Really? And what was I talking about then?"
Shit. "Uh... Ca... bag... ges?" Richie offered lamely, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his face heat up when Eddie completely deadpanned.
"Not even close, hun. I said, 'Are you done eating?' Infinity War is still out, I asked if you wanted to go see it," Eddie rolled his eyes, standing up and collecting his plate, putting it in the sink and wincing when Richie shoveled the last few bites of chicken into his mouth at once, smearing sauce on his chin as he did. "Ugh, Rich, what are you, a dog? There's no rush," He frowned, Richie just shrugging at him and swallowing down the unnecessarily large bite of food.
