Sparks shot down his nerves when Thrawn touches the collar. Dean hasn't forgotten it there, but it's become comfortable. Natural. The reminder is a jolt and the cool fingers against his warm skin and the leather feel excellent in contrast.

His legs move easily with the positioning, his knees bending, feet bracing on the bench beneath him to hold himself open. For now, he's all but forgotten the crowd. His world's narrowed to the touch of cool hands and orders he's struggling to remember to obey.

A sharp gasp, almost a strangled sound, catches in his throat when he feels the second vibrator pushing in beside the first. It stretches him more than the fingers had. When it's completely inside, he feels incredibly full and tight. It's just outside of uncomfortable, but nothing he can't handle. Until the pulses start, that is, and his brain threatens to melt inside his skull.

He moans again, shuddering until he feels the chain move on his chest and he forces himself to freeze. It's then that he can't stop a desperate, almost helpless sound. Fuck. It's a helpless feeling, yes, but it's one he's freely given himself over to. He won't stop now.

Dean's breath comes in sharp, jerky gasps as he struggles to control himself. He licks his lips and tries to formulate an answer to the question. How does he feel? It's not as easy as it sounds.

"Like I'm falling," he breathes, but it's not completely right. His brain's having a hard time focusing on words. "Aching. Almost too much."

That's the part he doesn't want to admit. He wants to please. Wants to give everything and get back the validation he craves so badly.