Title: Only In Discipline

Rating: R/NC-17

Kink request: "Submissive Leo and a dominatrix. Shouldn't the fearless leader let off some steam?"

Warnings: Consensual bondage and discipline.

I hope everyone likes it.

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The click of the high-heeled boots on the cool, smooth floor would have been soft to anyone else's ears, but to his ninja-honed senses each step was as loud as a gong, as good as a public announcement of his secret, his shame, his dishonour… his freedom. Leo inhaled at the thought, breaths harsh and wild. With self-control born of years of effort, he brought his attention to bear firmly on the ground below his eyes as he knelt. His Mistress hadn't permitted him the privilege of being bound. Not yet. He hadn't earned it.

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

In the beginning, she had had to bind and gag him all the time, as he'd fought against her touches and teachings, even though he'd asked for them in the first place. He inwardly ran through the memories of those days. Back then, he had instinctively loathed being bound, and it had been constantly bestowed on him. Now he adored the sensation – and he had to earn the privilege. The irony was enough to make him laugh, if he had been permitted. Of course, there was no way he would jeopardise his chances of being bound tightly tonight – not if he had to bite out his own tongue to keep it from betraying him.

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

*Tap* *tap* *tap* The even rhythm of the boots came to a halt as the light shone off the polished leather, bouncing gently into his eyes. "Raise your head, and look at me." The command was low, gentle, but no less a command for all that. As he lifted his face, directing his gaze at her face, he reminded himself once more of all the times he had laid helpless in ties at her feet, if she was pleased with him… if he obeyed the rules…

He had called out her name once. Only once. The look of disappointment in her face as she raised herself away from him had been like a whiplash across his face. For many times after that, she had gagged him right from the start of every session, just as she had when he was a novice. No progress. Worse, regresssion. It had been perhaps the only time he had truly rejoiced at the removal of the gag, when she eventually decided to give him another chance to prove himself.

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

His Mistress was neither unkind nor sadistic – she took no pleasure in punishing him for an imaginary infraction or denying him his reward without a good reason. But she was also strict with him. Firm. She knew what he wanted and needed, and provided it… her perception and power were much greater than he had ever given her true credit for. And now her eyes penetrated his, down to his very soul. "You may speak, Leonardo."

He refused to lick his lips. Control. "Thank you, Mistress."

"You have done well. You have held yourself obedient under the hardest bonds of all – the bonds that exist only in your mind. Now stand. You may relax."

Leonardo would have sobbed in relief if that would not have destroyed all his hard work. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." Relax. The word meant many things – to Mikey it meant a free afternoon with a new comic book or videogame, to Raph a ride on his ShellCycle or the Sewer Slider, to Don some time in his lab with no appliances to repair and his own projects spread out on the table.

Most people who knew Leonardo – even his own brothers and father – would have said that the word 'relax' meant one thing to him. Meditation. Only his Mistress truly knew what it meant – the secret she held for him. It meant the multitude of bindings and ties, in leather and silk and rough rope and metal chains and velvet and who-only-knew what. Everywhere. Attached to the bedposts of the bed. Hanging artfully off spreader bars and metal cuffs and X-frames and chairs with cuffs all neatly arranged along the walls and hanging from the ceiling and in every other way possible.

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

"You have demonstrated your control admirably. You may choose your own restraint."

It took all of his iron self-control not to choke with delight. Only a little longer, only a little longer… "Thank you, Mistress," he managed to whisper breathily before steadying himself, glancing over each, not wanting to make a mistake with such a crucial decision. His eyes fell upon an X-frame, one he had not seen before… one not as near to the wall as the others. I wonder…?

Irresistably drawn, Leo stepped closer to it, knowing even as he did that he was the moth racing towards a flame, that his Mistress wasn't even bothering to repress the smile he knew was hovering on her lips. Sliding his hand carefully down the solid metallic structure, he spoke his permitted allotment of words. "I choose this one, if it pleases my Mistress."

"It does. Assume the position, face forward." Leonardo obediently stepped back and turned until his shell rested against the frame, lifting his hands and spreading his legs so that the restraints could be placed on him. He blinked in surprise as he realised that the frame did not have to be adjusted for his short height, shell, or muscled wrists and ankles – indeed, it didn't seem as though it was adjustable at all. It was… personal. His. The thought warmed him down to the depths of his belly. As his Mistress began to secure the fastenings, his cock finally began to win the battle it had been fighting with him for so long, and dropped down. He gritted his teeth in despair. NO! Not now, not when I'm so very close… He could have wept at the failure, the lost opportunity.

Clipping the last binding firmly into place, his Mistress glanced at his face and the smile faded from her lips. Glancing down, her lips parted in surprise before taking on a somewhat thoughtful pout. After a moment, she sighed. "I see." But she resumed her movements, carefully fingering the gags in front of her before selecting a relatively small and comfortable ball gag. "There is, after all, a limit to self-restraint. It can only go so far. That's why you're here, isn't it, Leonardo?" It wasn't really a question, but Leo answered her anyway, immediately, instinctively.

"Yes, Mistress."

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

And with that, the final gift of the ball gag was given to him, and he could finally, finally relax as she began to touch him, to coo to him, to whisper promises of pleasure and pain, of approval and anger, and he sobbed and cried out through the gag and jerked his arms and legs uselessly through the cuffs, and it was all right.

It was all right.

Because inside these bindings, he was free. He, who as a ninja regarded bondage as part of captivity, failure, shame, danger… had found peace inside his Mistresses' hold. He, too, could relax. He, too, could release all the fear, the worry, the tension, the irritation, and nobody was burdened by it. The Fearless Leader, the Eldest Son, the Responsible One, the Splinter's Pet, all ran away in fear from these restraints, just as they'd been taught.

Only Leo stayed. And for a brief, precious time, he wasn't crushed under their aching weight.

Only in discipline may one truly find freedom.

A small smirk was his only warning before she reached up and around, slid her hand behind him, and he had only a brief moment to puzzle over it, because his muscles automatically tensed in battle-readiness as the frame began to slowly drop backwards. Did she push it over? He thought wildly, followed by No, that's not possible, surely! With an effort, he forced himself to relax, and was rewarded by a true, warm smile and a skreeeeeeeee as the frame stopped right where it was, and then both of her hands were back on him.

This frame… it MOVES! It's MADE to move! Stunned by the idea, he spent several precious seconds wondering how in the world she'd found out about such a thing, let alone gotten hold of one, before deciding that there were some things that probably he didn't really need to know, and who cared, when she was climbing on top of him to continue with her ministrations?

And the gorgeous torture continued as she spun him one way, and then another, always keeping skin contact with him, always talking and teasing and taunting, never letting him know which angle he might be flipped to next.

Never letting him fall.

When she finally tipped him back to a horizontal position, he knew this was it. Riding him was her favourite position, no matter what the session had brought, and he dimly wondered what he must look like to her eyes, with lines of his own pre-come dribbled all over his body in odd lines and angles that told of the rollercoaster that had kept him pinned for the last delicious eternity.

He wondered what his brothers and father would say if they could see him like this.

He decided he didn't damn well care.

All he cared about was the freedom to moan, to move as he wanted without having to censure himself, at last, at last, and her face, alight with so much as she rode him hard, cheeks flushed, breasts bouncing, and she was so hot and soaking wet and tight, even here she held him secure.

Watching her come always made him come. He could never help it. She was too lovely – and his climax was the only time she ever allowed him to use her name during these sessions. She always tore the gag out to hear it, too.

"R- RENET! Ahhh!" Leo moaned further as she came. Her body had a…. remarkable way of seizing him tighter, of holding and squeezing and ever-so-slightly pulling, that sent him insane. She held him tight. She let him cry.

He could soar.

After the emotions and hormones had subsided, the two of them shared a companionable silence broken only by their heavy breathing. After a while, Renet raised her head, blonde hair tousled and eyes sparkling. "I take it you enjoyed the new toy?" she asked coyly, but with a bit of uncertainty lurking behind the tone. Leo knew full well that Renet always gave him her all during these sessions, and he would never dishonour her with anything but the absolute truth (though occasionally it had to be very tactfully phrased. The last outfit had been… well, no. Just NO.)

"I loved it," he reassured her. "Where exactly did you – no, wait. Let's keep the mystery, shall we?"

Renet burst into laughter, which was cruelly interrupted by an all-too familiar sound from the corner. The Time Scepter. Damn. Both of them turned to regard it with groans of disappointment before Renet reluctantly pulled herself away from Leo before undoing his restraints. He returned the favour by helping her change back into her blue clothes. "Really wish he'd do his OWN dusting for once," the time mistress mumbled crossly as she shoved her right foot into her left boot. Leo couldn't help but agree with her.

A lot of hasty re-organisation later, and both of them looked reasonably presentable. "Time?" Renet asked anxiously.

"Five-forty-five, please. I want to beat everyone into the shower this morning."

Another beautiful laugh was his reward. "You got it," and his last view of her before she waved the Scepter at him was her trying one-handedly to jam that dreadful hat onto her head.

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A hot shower later and Leo felt ready to take on the world, much less a morning practice. Well, he reminded himself a tad guiltily, I did have a wonderful start to the day! He noticed Donnie shuffling into the living room, clutching a can of Red Bull as if it was a lifeline. "Donnie," he scolded mildly, "you didn't have ANOTHER all-nighter, did you?"

His genius brother looked him directly in the eye and eloquently said "Guh," before stumbling into the bathroom and closing the door. Leo shook his head. He knew exactly what Don had stayed up all night repairing, and who was responsible for it. Ah well. He would get his revenge in about fifteen seconds, when he woke them BOTH up for practice.

"Ma~an! Le~eohhhhh!" Ah yes. The sweet sounds of home. "Five more minutes! C'mon!"

"No. Shower, then practice. NOW."

"Dammit, Leo! Can't you learn to relax for once?"

Leo shook his head and smiled. "Raph, never forget what Splinter says – Only in discipline may one truly find freedom."

END.