Lucio was walked over to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge of it. He fidgeted in his bindings briefly but quickly resigned himself to his helplessness, swallowing his encroaching anxieties and taking slow, practiced breaths. Ansel asked if he was comfortable, running his fingers between the ropes and his smooth skin and he simply smiled warmly and nodded, “You did a wonderful job tying them, they’re not digging in at all,” he murmured as he glanced down at the soft white rope that bound his arms firmly against his sides. Ansel was even careful about his bindings, why would he be nervous for even a moment that he’d hurt him in any way shape or form? He wasn’t sure, but the butterflies fluttering within the pit of his stomach cried out for him to tread lightly here, lest he allow himself to be dominated too totally again. The last time he was in this precarious of a position, they reminded him, he left the suite brutalized and terrified.<br/><br/>Another deep breath later, however, Lucio brushed aside the butterflies, reminding himself yet again that this was Ansel, not James. This was his lover, not another client. Ansel’s soothing voice drew him from his own mind once more and he lifted his gaze up onto his magnificent boyfriend, a faint smile playing at his lips at his gentle reassurances. “Of course, my love,” he whispered simply in response, leaning his head into Ansel’s delicate touch and allowing his eyes to flutter shut whilst lips parted ever so slightly. The contact was fleeting, much to the young Englishman's dismay, and he immediately sat a bit more erect once again as Ansel drew his hand away and began moving away from him, and as he moved away he spoke some words that weren’t so comforting.<br/><br/>The ability to see or the ability to speak, he’d be losing one of those. Of course, he was sure Ansel wouldn’t go through with stripping him of either ability were he to vocalize his reservations, but that would be selfish. Tonight was Ansel’s treat, and he was sure that once he got into the groove of it he’d enjoy it as well, it was just a matter of getting his feet wet a bit and easing into the experiencing. Which of those abilities did he hold more dear, he wondered? Which one would soothe him more to have in this experience? It didn’t take him too long to decide. Ansel would be able to read his body language just as well as he was able to read his lips, Lucio deduced, and so he’d prefer to have his eyesight, at least for now, so he could see what Ansel had coming for him.<br/><br/>Lucio was jarred again from his thought process, but this time it was by Ansel’s fingers and not his voice. The man was kneeling in front of him on the floor, his fingers slipping forwards and coming into contact with his penis. Perhaps surprisingly, despite the anticipation of sexual activities with his beloved, and the slow, teasing reveal of his flesh, Lucio’s cock still remained entirely flaccid. Of course, Ansel couldn’t know of the depth of his love’s unspoken reservations, and so he just continued on with his preparations, gently beginning to run his hands over the man’s unaroused appendage.<br/><br/><i>So what will it be, Lucio?</i><br/><br/>A shiver ran down Lucio’s spine at Ansel’s question and he averted his gaze, clearing his throat and simultaneously willing his voice not to shake and his cock to harden at Ansel’s attentive touch. “I think I’d prefer for you to take my voice. I’d like to be able to see what tortures you have in store for me before they’re administered,” he murmured with a small, perhaps cheeky little smile, managing to maintain the cool composure in his voice that he was usually in possession of.