It may be the permission that does it, Dean's not sure. He feels a hot pull low in his belly the moment Thrawn's hand wraps around him. He's teetering on the edge, overwhelmed with the sensations assaulting his senses -- the clamps on his nipples still tight and painful, but the pain long since bled into something more pleasant; the toys stretching him past the capacity he imagined he could stand, vibrating and pulsing deep within him and hitting all the right places; the blindfold keeping him in the dark and more helpless than any chains might have; and finally the cool touch of a hand he's felt so sparingly over the course of this encounter, but come to ache for -- and then those words reminding him, once again of his audience and the eyes that he'd forgotten for a time, but now feels raking hungrily over his body.

It's seconds after that he comes hard, body bowing up from the bench and muscles going rigid under his skin. It's such a sudden, intense climax that it dances along the edge of painful. He's not quiet, either... he can't be. His body's completely out of his control now. All he can do is give himself over to the moment and let it take control.