Closed to [tacticalvisor]

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo Shimada is not a man used to being made to feel helpless. But he trusts Jack, implicitly, and deeply enough to allow his hands to be tied together in front of him - he still has movement in his fingers, but his wrists are bound together - loosely, he could slip them if he really wants to.

He takes a deep breath. He's laid bare beneath Jack, stripped down to his underwear and nothing else. He has his knees bent, talonsful of sheets in each foot. Hanzo blinks slowly and looks up at Jack. "I'm okay," he says, though his body is thrumming with tension. He's sure he looks nervous, but he wants to do this, wants to try. His gaze flickers to the blindfold, then up to the ceiling, then back to Jack's face. "I'm ready." He shifts, a little, resting his head back on the supporting pillow. He's as comfortably as he can be, and relaxed as he's going to be under the circumstances.

Comments

[tacticalvisor]

It's almost surreal. He came to kill the man, and now? Now he's got Hanzo utterly at his mercy, and trusting him for something Jack (call me Jack, he'd rumbled in that little drunken heat of the moment, and it's stuck - but only when they're alone) could easily, easily exploit. Hell, he wouldn't even have to kill him; trussed up like this, Hanzo's open to any number of things, and 76 has experience in utilizing them in the worst of ways from his vigilante streak. Could get any kind of information he wanted...

None of that comes to mind here. He has a hand on the man's shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, not wanting to dive right in to things. "Mmm. You can say some weird things in the heat of the moment," he murmurs in warning, leaning down. Readying himself. "Some people use colors in case they think they might slip, but unless you want to or can think of anything else, I'm just going to take things as-is. All right?"

They'd gone over it a bit. He's not sure it was enough. Hanzo just looks so eager nervous, he wants to reassure the other man that he's in good hands and still in absolute control. The moment he tells Jack to slow or stop? He will.

[chickenleggy]

Jack's hand is warm on his shoulder, soothing out the tension, and Hanzo relaxes with a small sigh. "Colors are fine," he says, looking up at Jack, staring into the glowing red slit of the visor. He reaches up, hands still bound together, and touches the metal. It's warmed by the machinery and also Jack's skin. He trails a finger over the red line and imagines he can see Jack's eyes through it.

He lets his hands drop back to his stomach and nods again. He knows he's submitting himself to a man that could very well want him dead. He's not completely defenseless right now, but he's defenseless enough, and soon he's going to be blindfolded and unable to see. "I'm ready."

[tacticalvisor]

There's a part of him that does want Hanzo dead. The man has murdered and authorized the murder of thousands of people; his time spent in the compound has convinced Jack of that. He also doesn't seem to take any pleasure in it, almost, almost calling to mind a general and his soldiers. There's no denying they're loyal to him, and there's an almost magnetic quality that Jack wonders if he's been caught up in. He's no doubts whatsoever where his loyalty lies, and if he had to act, he would. He's just...

Waiting for the moment. This is not it. This is too...intimate. While he won't kill in cold blood, neither will he kill like this. God, no. "Green for go, then," he begins, dragging his hand up Hanzo's shoulder to his arms- taking gentle, but firm control. "Yellow if you need to pause or there's a problem. Say 'red' and you'll find out just how quickly I can get someone out of these," he concludes with a little chuckle, giving a little tug to those wrist bindings. "Talk all you want, but those will be what I'll pay attention for. Just...bear in mind I'm still learning Japanese."

Some went quiet, or simply incoherent. Others were better left to babble on. He wasn't sure what Hanzo would be, but was curious to find out, as he reached to tie on the blindfold. A tight knot to secure it in place, and then his hands were running down Hanzo's neck, pressing as though to smooth it all down as he ran his hands down to shoulders, biceps, and further down. Letting him get used to a simple sensation at first, calloused hands on skin.

[chickenleggy]

That is true. Hanzo did not take pleasure in the fact that his family's business led to deaths. It was not personal, just business. Lesser men did find pleasure in it, but Hanzo was not one of them. Deaths directly or indirectly at his hands were necessary. "Matte is wait, yameru is stop," he tells Jack, voice quiet. He doesn't think he'll lapse and be unable to speak in english, but he's also never done this before.

As Jack lifted the blindfold up, Hanzo leaned his head forward and closed his eyes as the fabric came forward. It was soft against his face, and by closing his eyes before the blindfold went on, it was easier to imagine that he just had his eyes closed.

He can still hear perfectly fine, and his breathing's not impaired, but he can't see anything. The knot was comfortable at the back of his head. Nothing about this position was straining or uncomfortable.

Still, when Jack touches him, fingers against his neck, then palms against his shoulders, arms, Hanzo shivers a little, breath catching. He's not used to being weak like this, to submitting to another and his feet curl, talons digging in, but this is still fine, bearable.

[tacticalvisor]

"Matte and yameru," Jack acknowledges in a murmur, continuing to rub at skin. Firm, massaging motions, drawing some blood to the surface and getting it more receptive to sensation. Then he takes hold of one shoulder and drags the tips of his fingers up the other, pressing nails against it to see how Hanzo responds. "Maybe we should find me a tutor." It feels like he's been staying long enough that he may as well learn more. But does he really want the language to be associated with so much memory?

His nails aren't exactly sharp, but he's got the angle, experimenting to see if an increase or decrease of pressure gets a better reaction. If moving across his back gets something. He can see those strange talons curling, and he's already looking forwards to experimenting with those.

[chickenleggy]

Jack's fingernails drawing over his shoulder - not really biting, but just a scrape - and Hanzo shivers again. There's something to be said about not knowing what's coming next, or from where, or from what. He tips his head back, moving into the touch, arching his shoulders a little.

His hands curl together against his belly. "Maybe," he says. "I am sure you have learned some already, though you maybe do not realize." It's relaxing, to be able to talk and be talked to. Taking his mind off of the fact that he can't see is helping his overall tension level.

[tacticalvisor]

"Hontou desu ka?" Jack thinks he got the pronunciation right. Or didn't mangle it too badly. Seems like a way to say 'no shit?', or at least from how he's heard it in context. Hopefully he hasn't just made an ass of himself.

He drags his nails down and then up Hanzo's spine, using his grip to move the man as he wants- then abruptly reaches up and grabs a fistful of hair, forcing his head to the side and breathing warm air on to his neck.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo chuckles. "Horrible," he says quietly, but he's smiling - just a little, but more than his usual. He's starting to relax, adjusting to Jack's touch coming and going.

The hand in his hair takes him by surprise, but when the fingers curl into a fist in his hair and push, forcing him to turn his head to the side, Hanzo gasps. He goes tense, shoulders stiffening, but it's only for a moment and he relaxes again. The smile returns and his jaw relaxes as well. Jack's weight is on him more, the hand in his hair more intimate than just the touching, breath warm on his neck.

It's not painful, to have his hair and head pulled on, and he submits. "J-Jack..." He relaxes into the darkness of the blindfold.

[tacticalvisor]

Good. He'd been aware of the possibility that Hanzo might be startled enough to ask him to pause, but had also been aware of the possibility the man might like a little rough handling. He doesn't press it too much, ducking his head further to 'reward' him for his patience with a drag of the flat of his tongue. Warm and wet, it follows a tendon up to his jaw without any sort of demand...or press of teeth for that matter. They'd agreed, no marks where they'd be visible. Jack wouldn't have minded doing it if Hanzo wanted them, but he wasn't stupid; there was a stigma associated with the sort of thing, as if they were to be ashamed of.

He didn't want Hanzo ashamed of this.

"Doing all right?" he murmurs, lips just brushing the man's ear as he runs a hand down the center of his chest. "'Dlike to move on to some of the things I brought."

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo's breath catches again - Jack's tongue is warm and wet, and the hard edge of the visor is bumping into his cheekbone. But there's no bite, no teeth, and he lets the breath go with a quiet sigh.

He nods in response to the question. His talons are curled tight again, but the hand on his chest relaxes him back down again. "Okay," he says, settling back in. He leans against the grip in his hand, pulling more tension against his scalp. "I'm fine." He's already more visibly relaxed than he was at the start of this. He's turning himself over completely to Jack, stress draining out of him.

[tacticalvisor]

"Mmm." He gives a little nuzzle to that ear before pulling away from it, easing his grip on Hanzo's hair and giving his shoulder a little pat for good measure. Good. I'm glad. "Sit tight."

It's the only sort of warning he gets before Jack pulls away completely, leaving Hanzo trussed on the bed while he reachs for a bag. It'd been awkward packing it, even more awkward bringing it in, but he'd set his face and expression and practically dared the guards to say something with body posture alone.

(They hadn't.)

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo lays there for a moment, waiting. But after a few seconds, the darkness goes from calming to unnerving. He shifts, hands curling into balls in his lap, then moves again, back arching as he tries to get comfortable. Jack's close, but not close enough. Hanzo can't feel him, and he's being quiet.

"Jack," he says, and his voice is pretty calm, but his hands are shaking. He reaches out for him, but his questing fingers come up empty. "Yellow," he croaks - he was feeling so good just a minute ago, but now panic is starting to set in.

[tacticalvisor]

The reaction is swift. Something heavy - or a group of somethings - falls to the ground. The weight near Hanzo moves as Jack comes to put a hand in the man's own, giving him something to grasp and hold.

"Here. What's wrong?" No anger at going from an 'I'm fine' to a yellow, just patient concern.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo grabs to Jack's hand and squeezes tightly. He sucks in a breath then lets it out, then draws another in. His grip strength is almost incredible and he squeezes down. "Just... Don't want to be... alone." Blindfolded and tied up and relatively helpless is not good. "Sorry, I... I panicked a little."

[tacticalvisor]

There's a beat of silence- and then an actual, rueful chuckle. Hanzo's grip is tight, and he shouldn't be surprised. "Don't be," he murmurs, taking the grip up to raise to his lips. "I'm the exact same way. Should've thought that we could have that in common."

Really, he's kicking himself. Why hadn't he thought of it? Either way, the priority now is relaxing Hanzo once again, easing him back in to a state where he can enjoy himself. His free hand runs down Hanzo's, trying to sooth him.

"No apologies for speaking up, all right? We're still figuring out what you like and what you don't. I need you to talk to me so I can make this good for you, and I'm glad you did." Praise and reassurance usually helps, at least in his own experience - just how much do the two of them have in common? "I'll only be pissed if you don't say something."

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo's tight grip eases when Jack chuckles and kisses his hand - his lips are warm and soft - and Hanzo nods, then sighs quietly. "Alright." As Jack touches him, he relaxes down again, thudding heart slowing to a more normal pace. "Being alone... and not able to see... And you were quiet." That was what it was - now that he was calming down, he could tell for sure - he had felt alone, then, helpless and alone. "We can keep going." He doesn't want to stop, but he's feeling better now, more relaxed.

[tacticalvisor]

And all of that, Jack mentally ticks those in his mind, still stroking his skin. "Will it help if I keep talking?" he asks, closely watching the man. "Or you can try counting to ten, out loud." A press of lips together as he tries to think of another option, but none immediately comes to mind. Sometimes that's the way it is, though. Simple warning may just be enough, giving Hanzo the time to steady himself, and if Jack makes enough noise- well, there's the confirmation that he won't be alone.

Letting whim guide him - it's a safe enough urge - he mouths at one of Hanzo's fingers before easing his grip and letting them lower.

[chickenleggy]

"Yes... If you keep talking, I think I'll be fine." He's about to say more, but when Jack lifts his hands and presses his mouth to his fingers... His heart flutters helplessly. Jack's lips are warm and damp. "Or just keep a hand on me." Of course, Jack could just keep kissing his fingers and that would be fine too.

He lets his head rest back in the pillow. The tension previously built up in him is gone, and he is at least no longer ripping holes in the sheets with his claws.

[tacticalvisor]

"Let's try the talking. If you need more, you know what to do." Jack runs one hand back down Hanzo's arms, moving to shoulder, side, hip and lower...fingers tracing where skin meets scale. It's undeniable proof that his little feature is natural, or at least as natural as it can be.

"Gonna move when I reach the end, here," he warns, fully intending on doing so unless Hanzo calls for more. "Tell you what, I'll just make sure everything is within reach so I don't have to move very far for the rest of the night. As long as you don't squirm, nothing should be knocked off."

Is that a smile in his voice? Hard to tell.

[chickenleggy]

This is definitely easy enough to handle. It doesn't feel overwhelming, and indeed Jack's hand trailing over his body is calming. His feet twitch when Jack's fingers brush over his scales. People don't touch his feet, and Jack doing it should be strange, unwelcome, but it's not. Instead, he flexes his toes, spreading them. "Alright." He can not squirm, right? Easy... probably.

Hanzo rests his bound hands on his belly, and Jack's hand is still on him, so he's relaxed.

[tacticalvisor]

"Good." Contact leaves, and weight shifts on the bed. "Just see what you can do to relax yourself, all right? I get the feeling it's one of the first times you've been tied up like that. I hope it's the first." Not out of any sort of sense of possession, but, twofold; one, if Hanzo had been bound in another situation, it was a sign that things were very wrong. Two, if that had been the case, then there'd be some negative concoctions they'd have to work over. Not a big deal, but, still.

Jack continues without waiting for Hanzo to respond, more weight shifting. The bag rustling as he takes hold of his first tool of choice. "Now, some people go really intense with this kind of thing right off the bat. Which is fine, if they've worked up to it, but...we're going to start light and learn how you react to things." There's pressure on Hanzo's wrists to alert him of Jack's return, and then something placed in to his hands. Wooden on one side, coarse bristles on the other. A handle that Jack himself is holding on to, but will allow Hanzo to take if he feels towards it. "And so you can learn me."

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo had never been bound like this before. Especially not in a situation like this. He'd had training, and part of that training had been to escape being held, but he hadn't been mostly naked and blindfolded for that, and had been under another type of stress - mostly that the men that were his captors were not going easy on him - not part of the family, and more than willing to beat and torture him in the same way any other group would if they managed to capture him for real. But he's not thinking about that right now. It doesn't even cross his mind.

He nods, fingers twitching when Jack's fingers find his skin just above the soft fabric knotting his wrists together. The object pressed in his hand is smooth, familiar. Cautiously exploring, he winces as he jams the meat of his thumb into the bristles - it doesn't hurt, but it surprised him. "A brush?" he asks, though he knows. He's still adjusting to not having sight, and relying just on touch is harder than he'd thought it would be. He loosens his grip so if Jack wants to take it back he can.

[tacticalvisor]

Jack does indeed, though he turns it so that the bristles move along skin. "Coarsest one I could find that wasn't straight plastic," he affirms, taking hold of Hanzo's arm to steady him in place as he continues to not-quite-scrape it down, moving to Hanzo's thigh. "This type of thing can be interesting, because aside from the obvious..."

He shifts it suddenly, giving a harsh smack to the inner thigh with the wooden end. Immediately he turns it again, running the bristles against the impact site.

"...you can get some interesting results this way."

[chickenleggy]

The touch of the wood against his skin makes Hanzo quiver, just a little, anticipatory. His talons, which were previously slack against the sheets, tighten a little, grabbing to fabric.

He's not prepared for the smack of the back of the brush against the inside of his leg and he gasps, back arching off the bed a little in response. But before he can really process the smooth smack, the bristles were rubbing over the stinging spot and it hurts but not in a truly painful way. The sting-scrape is new, and he's not sure how to handle it, really. "I..." Hanzo lays there on the bed, not sure what to say. He's blinded and at Jack's mercy, and though it stings, he's not feeling any real desire to stop this. He could, he knows. He could say the words and be out of this.

But he doesn't want to. Hanzo bites his bottom lip and shifts, then lets his knees fall apart - just a little, but more than they were before. He doesn't have anything to say.

[tacticalvisor]

As much as Jack would like to smile at all those reactions, he keeps himself from showing any amusement or enjoyment. Not that he really needs to, with the blindfold hiding the world from Hanzo, but...he knows from experience that without sight, you start to strain for whatever signs you can. And so, as he squeezes Hanzo's shoulder reassuringly, he only makes himself ask a single question;

"More, or move on?"

He's learning Hanzo's reactions. He thinks he can read them, but - he wants to be sure. And until he gets another go-ahead, he'll be running bristles across the opposite thigh, deceptively gentle.

[chickenleggy]

The prompt to speak helps, the hand on his shoulder helps, but Hanzo still lays there, feeling the bristles of the brush run up and down his thigh. His mouth is dry, and the spot on the inside of his thigh burns just a little. "More," he finally manages. He's starting to pick up more, with his sense of sight cut off. He can hear Jack's skin moving against the bed where he couldn't before, and if he focused he could hear Jack's breathing. He swallows. The bristles of the brush are scratchy, the inside of his thigh is tender.

There's no space in his brain right now for worries. He's in the moment, truly, just experiencing what Jack's doing to him.

[tacticalvisor]

"Mmm." He moves the bristles back towards the stricken area, testing its lingering sensitivity before giving a quick thwak on the other thigh. Not quite mirroring the earlier strike, but- close enough. He doesn't brush it afterwards, letting it 'cool' on its own as he instead drags the bristles down, down towards where skin texture changes and turns in to scales.

Jack isn't quite certain he wants to strike here; the thigh is prime for such because it has padding. Same with the buttocks, even if that area will need a little manipulation to gain access. Still, he's curious as to how it receives touch in general, and if Hanzo wants to imagine a strike, well...

Nothing wrong with anticipation. He does experiment to see what dragging the brush against the direction of the scales does, careful for any signs of actual damage or 'bad' pain.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo half-winces, mostly because he's not totally expecting the light brushing over the already sore spot. The smack to his other thigh makes him jump, but it's all still alright. He gets a second to catch his breath, to process and realize he's still doing alright and then the brush is moving down his legs again, the scrape of bristles soft as it goes from the softness of his skin to the join between flesh and scales - which is tender, but Jack doesn't hesitate there, at least - to the more muted sensation of the bristles over the scales.

This is more like relieving an itch than scraping against his skin and it feels good. Not even the brush working the other way disturbs the feeling - the scales don't overlap but instead are tight against the skin, so there's nothing to disturb as the brush goes the other direction, up towards his knees.

Hanzo relaxes instead and lets out a quiet breath - more of a sigh than anything. The bristles are coarse enough to let him keep feeling. "Feels good," he murmurs, shoulders relaxing into the pillow under him.

[tacticalvisor]

"Good," comes the murmured reply. Jack doesn't mind that at all, letting the brush roam over scales a bit more, down to those talons and then back up, up, up past the thigh as he leans up and- lets the bristles brush at Hanzo's chest, over tattoo and nipple-

-and then moving away. He keeps his other arm at Hanzo's leg to reassure him of his presence as he sets the brush down and picks up his next tool of choice - tools, actually - and placing them in to Hanzo's hands. Light and wooden, with a metal spring-like configuration holding two pieces together.

Clothespins.

"Was going to put these on you and leave them for a bit."

Implied is a request for a go-ahead; there's always the opportunity to pass, he'd brought that up before when they were discussing trying this out.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo's toes twitch as the brush goes lower - the sensitive skin between his toes is thinner, and the bristles tickle. But then the brush is moving back up - shin, thigh, belly, chest, arm - and then it's gone. Jack's hand is warm on his leg, fingers wrapped around his scales.

He takes the chance to relax while he can, settle back and breathe. There's no thoughts in his head, no worries, and he takes what Jack presses into his hands without considering refusing. He turns the items over in his hands - and immediately drops one onto his belly - and feels them out. Clothespins.

But he really has no protests to voice about them being used on him. To pinch his skin, presumably. Well, maybe one protest. "Not my --" He has to stop to think of the word in english, of all things. It's not a word he's ever had much use for. "nipples?" He reaches up to touch his chest. He and Genji spent too many of their years tormenting each other by pinching and twisting each other's nipples to find any sort of pleasure from it.

[tacticalvisor]

That dubiousness in the tone is clear, and Jack makes a reassuring sound. "Not if you don't want them there." Jack runs a hand over a nipple nonetheless, then his thumb in small little circles. No pinching, but still trying to give it some positive attention. "There's other places- ears, for one." A reach up to tug at the earlobe. "Breast itself. Arms..." Each place has a little touch, a little pinch, to give Hanzo an idea of what it'd feel like. "Legs, too..."

Specifically where the skin texture starts to change. He thinks he may be playing a lot in that area, and the legs themselves, though he's not planning on leaving the clothespins on at any location for too long. And if it's too sensitive, he has a backup-plan in the bag; an instant icepack or two, which can lead in to other sensations as well as soothe.

[chickenleggy]

Jack's touch was warm, and even when he lingered over his nipple, Hanzo's body reacted. Not unwelcome, it did feel good, and his nipple stiffened under the touch. But then Jack's hand moved away and Hanzo kept playing with the clothespin even as Jack spoke, touch accompanying his words. Nowhere he touched did Hanzo really have a problem with, except maybe his legs.

The spot where skin melted into scales was sensitive, and he might not like it all that much, but he was willing to let Jack try it and if he didn't like it, well, he could say something. "That sounds okay to me... If it hurts, I will say something."

[tacticalvisor]

"If you don't like it, say something," Jack corrects gently, curling his fingers to scrape up the legs and thighs. "Unless you're telling me that it didn't hurt when I hit you?"

He takes some skin of the outer thigh between thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly to give an example. It's a good amount, and it's not a tight hold by any means, but - it should be felt. And when he replaces fingers with a clothespin, letting it take the hold, it should be felt all the more. He puts a couple on each side, letting fingers prepare the skin and 'warn' Hanzo of his target, giving him a chance to say no-

A few up the abdomen, one the outside of the each breast, avoiding the nipple, as promised. One on each ear. Careful to take plenty of skin in each to keep things from too tight a grip. Especially with the knowledge that it's not necessarily wearing them that where the sensation comes in, but the feeling of when they're removed...

When he's done, he brings out the next item. Long, thin, and with a leather 'fold' at the end. He's no idea if Hanzo will recognize a riding crop, but he's about to find out, placing it in to his hands for investigation.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo's lips quirk, but he doesn't say anything and instead just nods.

The clothespins don't hurt. The pinching sensation is light, but the longer the sit, the warmer the skin being grabbed gets. He lets his hands relax and surrenders to the sensation - the overall coolness of his skin, then the bright patches, and the trailing warmth that marked Jack's skin on his own.

He exhales through his nose, shifting a little as he adjusts to the clothespins. But before he can really settle into the sensation, something else is being put in his hands. It distracts him and he runs his fingers along the shaft of -- something. He's not sure what it is. A handle with a loop at one end that he puts his hand through accidentally, and a fold of soft, worn leather on the other.

Hanzo frowns, unsure. If he knows what it is, he doesn't recognize it by shape alone. "What is this?" he asks, pushing the fold of leather back and forth, thinking.

[tacticalvisor]

In answer? Jack first takes back the crop, making a little sound that could be amused, and - lightly - gives a swat to Hanzo's forearm. Only then does he explain; "Riding crop. Think you can hold still?"

There's a hint of challenge there; a teasing one, but a challenge nonetheless. Knowing that motion will jostle the clothespins, and in turn create some sensation. Whether Hanzo will like it or not...well, that'll remain to be seen.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo starts as he's swatted with the leather end. It's a smart sting, sharper than the back of the brush, but it's on his forearm.

But even tied up and blindfolded, he can't help but respond to the challenge. "Do you think you can make me move?" he asks in return, and his mouth curves into a smirk. He's not afraid of the smack of the crop.

[tacticalvisor]

Well then. Jack actually laughs a little at that, a rumbling chuckle of interest- and he uses the crop to lower Hanzo's hands down. "We'll see. I'll figure out a reward for you if you can keep from knocking off a clothespin on your own, sound fair...?"

They're not so secure that they couldn't be knocked off from some sporadic jerks. Which Jack is now eager to try and evoke, trailing the crop up Hanzo's chest, circling it around a nipple, letting him wonder, letting him anticipate, letting him guess where he'll swat-

-the flick is practiced and well-aimed. A swat to the abdomen at the muscle, not too hard, but not too soft, either. It will absolutely be felt, but Jack waits to see how it'll be received before planning his next move.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo hums and nods, pleased with the idea. He relaxes and tries not to anticipate and grow tense.

Still, the swat to his belly hurts. He groans and tenses, back arching, but doesn't jerk. The clothespins wobble, but they all stay in place.

The sting of the swat is starting to ease into a burn, and Hanzo is much less confident than he was a moment ago, but he's still determined to do this. He knows he can. And Hanzo's never backed down from a challenge a day in his life.

[tacticalvisor]

It'll certainly be a challenge. Jack hasn't done this in a while, but he remembers how to do it - and he's certainly been on the receiving end, knowing how it feels. So he's quite curious to see how Hanzo takes it, alternating his strikes and areas, occasionally simply letting the crop drag across skin to build up anticipation before striking again.

There is a flick, however, that strikes right at the collarbone- where he hadn't been aiming. Muscle and flesh provide padding, and hitting at a place without any...well, it can certainly be felt, and can easily be the bad sort of feeling. Immediately his hands is there, rubbing the area, the man leaning in to ensure that he hadn't actually hurt.

"Sorry, sorry. You all right?"

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo manages to last all the way through until the strike directly on his collarbone without losing any of his clothespins. He's used to the strikes on his arms or belly or chest, but not directly on bone: not on his hips, and not anywhere much above his chest. The other marks are all well-received: a quiet tension in his shoulders, his mouth, but it doesn't hurt so much that he flinches enough to dislodge clothespins.

But the flick to his collarbone sends pain shooting all the way up into his head in a way none of the other blows did and his jerk is much less controlled. Hanzo gasps in pain: he wasn't prepared for it, and it was Jack's strike at anywhere that wasn't covered with a layer of muscle or fat.

The fact that Jack immediately puts his hand on the site of the pain does help. Eases the tingling. But it still hurts. He shakes his head and sets his mouth. He's already cried out, he's not going to do it again. Once the pain settles he'll be alright to talk, but the swat is a blow he's able to feel in his entire body. He lifts his hands - not to push Jack's away, but to hold to his wrist, to steady his hand in place over the spot.

"Mean trick," he says finally, but there's no distress or anger in his voice. The apology was enough to tell him that it had been an accident.

[tacticalvisor]

"Didn't mean it." With his hand in place, Hanzo can no doubt feel the weight as Jack leans over to press his lips to his forehead. "How're you feeling? You're doing well, I think we can say you've impressed me at this point." Earned a little reward, and not just for Jack's 'mistake' - he honestly hadn't expected Hanzo would be able to take that without jerking, but then again, the man does seem to be a bit of a stoic. At least he's giving enough of a response for Jack to feed off of in turn, as opposed to simply draining his strength.

Quite the opposite, Jack feels energized by the man, tilting his head down to steal a kiss as he massages the skin underneath his hand. The riding crop is set down as he adjusts his position further, now-free hand trailing towards one of the clothespins and giving it a little flick.

"Ready for these to come off?" He was never planning on keeping them on too long, but if Hanzo's enjoying the sensation, far be it from him to remove them too soon.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo's opening his mouth to speak - he's still feeling alright, just the pain had been surprising and rather intense - but then Jack is kissing him on his open mouth and he hums. Jack's warm, and his lips are damp, and Hanzo moves to kiss him back, leaning up a little. He follows Jack as he moves back, but flops down after Jack is too far away. He nods shortly then says, "Yes, I am." Hanzo twitches as the clothespin is flicked.

The places that clothepins had been lost from were tingling more than the other places: the slight numbness caused by the pinching was replaced by a sensation more like pins and needles.

gomen for delay ;w;

[tacticalvisor]

Hanzo's getting a little needy. Jack doesn't mind, chuckling again as he gives one another flick - and then moves to another one to remove, this one of the ones on his chest. And immediately after it's ever-s-carefully pulled off?

Jack's mouth is on the skin, that warm and damp sensation soothing the sudden resurgence of bloodflow. If he wanted to be cruel, he'd suckle, but for now it's only a light pressure as he strokes the area with his tongue and offers a low hum of enjoyment.

[chickenleggy]

Hanzo hums as Jack tongues the spot and rolls his head back with a quiet sigh. His chest is warm and tingling, and Jack's mouth is hot and wet. He lifts his hands, reaching out to touch Jack - his fingers bump into Jack's chest and they immediately find a thin shirt - Jack's skin has warmed it, but it's still a barrier he wasn't much expecting.