Spark in Darkness ' 45
Jan. 11th, 2004 03:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI've got it, at last. Had to re-write half of it because it wasn't time for it yet - you know you get an idea and have to do it NOW?
For the record, I don't like this or how it turned out.
Also for protection against angry people with squick ratings - there is kink - mild kink, but still kink. Go no further if bondage/light S&M worries you.
He was sat in one of his favourite moping poses, staring blankly out of the window, with that weird expression that a poet would probably call ‘wistful sadness’. Personally, I'd call it ‘studied angst for the Goth wannabe.’ He should sell a book - Dramatic Poses for the Depressed. One trip to California and we’d make millions.
Alright, harsh, I know. I think I’m probably more sick of shovelling emotions round than I thought. It is worth it though, and he does have a reason for the angst - it’s not like one of those girls you meet, threatening to kill themselves every five minutes because they’re fifteen and their life is over because a guy doesn’t like them. One of these days I’m going to get organised tours to South-east Asia or Africa or parts of South America or somewhere and drag these angst queens around people who are really suffering. Shit, I bet I could find some real suffering without having to leave the country, probably not the city - we don’t live in the best world here.
Getting severely off topic here. Concentrate on Darren... he didn’t even hear the squeak of leather as I got closer. Ahrimadan did, sprawled across the cushions of the settee. His golden eyes did a quick survey of me in the leather get up. I thought for a second he'd give me away. He grinned - Ok, he's a cat, he’s always kind of grinning, but you know when he means it as a grin. I think it’s a feline talent more than a daemon talent. His eyes flick briefly to Darren, before he raises himself imperiously to his feet and pads silently from the room, still grinning hugely. I’ll never figure out that cat.
Still, it left me a free route right up behind Darren. Whatever he was looking at seemed to be holding his attention, or whatever he was thinking. I’m not sure I wanted to know. He didn't even move as I gently kissed the nape of his neck. It actually took me several kisses before he melted a little, eyes closed. His face was still frowning though, fine lines across his forehead, a tightness round his eyes. He was trying not to relax, really desperately not to relax. Yup, this is definitely going to affect out sex life, it’d be like sleeping with an alabaster statue.
I slipped my hands gently onto his, guiding them slowly backwards... he didn’t fight me, but he didn’t help either. His closed eyes looked like he’d squeezed them shut, like he’s afraid to look at me. Shit, he wasn’t this bad when we first slept together... I’m not letting this happen, so not letting him pull away from me. I pulled his arms further behind him, pulling them closer to me... he pulled back, trying to pull his hands back. Nope, not letting him go, not letting him pull away. He gave up quickly enough to give me some hope. He sighed and slumped a little - he didn’t relax into me, I knew despair when I saw it. It’s against the fucking rules to despair when I’m planning hot kinky sex!
One sharp pull, and I jerked his hands back, knocking him off balance. Two short sharp clicks sounded loud even other Darren’s gasp. Now he tried to spin round to look at me, stumbling slightly since I wasn’t letting his hands go - and it’s amazing how much control you have over someone in handcuffs. He opened his mouth in shock, I could see the outrage glowing in his eyes - oh yes, the light ion his eyes is back! Alright, it’s anger, but it’s a start!
His words died when he saw the leather... ah, then light isn't anger now! I know that light - told you he was as kinky as me. If he keeps his mouth open any longer he’s going start drooling. Self-esteem all better now. And there’s an added bonus - gaping mouths are very convenient when you have a ball gag near to hand. There’s the anger again. Darkly shining eyes, got to love it.
“No fucking way you’re dropping into an angst hole until I’ve got to have my say!” Next to collar and the long leash, “and isn’t action better than words?” He kept on glaring at me as I fastened the collar round his neck, buckling it down neatly. Perfect.
“Come along, slave boy, I haven’t seen you on my bed for far too long.” I had to practically drag him to his feet - he was not a happy bunny. He never is at first. He seemed co-operative. I should have been wary about that, right?
It was like someone let a flare off in the room. Those weird colours blurred my vision, even though I’d squeezed my eyes shut just in time. The light was nothing on the sudden flare of power that knocked me off my feet and sent me sprawling over the sofa. The problem of a leather sofa when you’re wearing nothing but leather? You slide, seriously. Darren was laid out on the floor looking like someone had hit him in the head with a hammer. The handcuffs, collar and gag were all still firmly in place. I grinned at him.
“Lesson numero uno, sexy, the gear is all warded.” You have NO idea how hard it is to convince a spirit of Righteous Purity into a ball gag. Seriously not easy. The collar’s got a spirit of light in it, an experiment really, I mean Darren’s always going on about his darkness. Seems the metaphor holds. The handcuffs are my old favourites from ages ago, each little rune engraved into them has a minor spirit. The spirits are really tiny, but there are so many different kinds that work well together that they're far stronger than anything else I have. That’s probably got some political message in it somewhere. Screw it, politics later, kink now.
“First one’s free, sexy. Try it again and you’ll pay for it.” Will he push it? Probably wouldn’t have before, but now I’ve told him not to, he’s bound to try it. Yes, I am manipulating him, but it’s so much fun.
Sure enough, the wards begin to glow just a little as he tests them - I wasn’t suppose to notice him I bet, but those spirits are terrible tell-tails. Can’t say I didn’t warn him, can you? I reached out from the settee and grabbed the trailing end of the lead, dragging him reluctantly towards me. He tried to say something past the gag, before being pulled over the arm of the sofa and across my lap. He craned his neck to look at me, eyes wide - yep, he knew what was coming.
He jerked sharply when I brought my hand hard down on his beautiful backside - he does have one of the tightest arses I’ve ever seen. As the second hard slap lands he tries to twist on my lap - the better to glare at me I think. I held the handcuffs to stop him wriggling away and start on a full scale barrage - sharp and fast, that's the way. It’s much easier to deal with a slow, hard spanking than it is with a fast one. I get a great rhythm going - told you I was a great musician, even with the sexiest of drums! Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek - drumming out the most amazing beat. Then, just to throw him, switch; left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, left cheek left cheek. It’s really fucking amazing how easily you can hold someone steady with just one hand on the chain on a pair of handcuffs. Darren really should have invested in thicker pairs of trousers, these linen things are so not providing any padding for him!
I keep up the rhythm - well, alright, I may have increased the tempo just a little, and maybe the strength. But not by much, well, not by very much anyway. I finally stopped when he stopped fighting to get up. If he couldn't stand being the boss, then I was going to be. One way or another, he was going to accept me in control. If that meant Darren wasn’t going to be sitting down very comfortably for the next few days, then I’m willing to make that noble sacrifice. Aren’t I a saint?
I stood, pulling him with me. His eyes blazed anger at me, his face flushed with colour - it stood out amazingly in his pale skin. He was muttering constantly around the ball gag. He’d stopped struggling though. See? He did learn.
He even walked meekly (well, fairly meekly) through to the bedroom behind me. He lay down on the bed, a perfectly obedient little slave, except for the burning eyes anyway. Pinning him with one hand, I drew my trusty silver blade. It’s shiny, sexy and beautiful, everyone should have one! It’s also fucking sharp, cut right through Darren’s shirt with no effort at all, I’d cut it free from him almost before he knew what I was doing. Of course, he did realise in the end and began to yell through the gag. I didn’t understand, but I don’t think I really had to - he thought far too much of his clothes. Way too much, ‘cos the spirits tell me he’s broken the rule again... his eyes have time to swim and darken before he’s upended again.
he had time for one wordless yell before my hand came down again on that yummy backside of his. Not as much build up this time, start in full on at full speed and strength. No second warnings right? Well, I didn’t believe in them! He struggled massive for the first ten swats, really useless since I'm stronger than him anyway, and you don't have much leverage when laid across someone's lap with your hands pinned behind you. He’s a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly. Unfortunately for him he was a stubborn man as well and it wasn’t until another burst of twenty swats that he finally stopped fighting me and just lay muttering and twitching. I guess I’d let him off on that, it must be pretty hard to not twitch by now.
He lay still while I ran gentle fingers down his back, tracing some of his long faded old scars. He’d never really told me how he got them. Having looked in his mind, I’m not sure I really want to know. There were a lot of them, but they were all so small, faded and old. I’m not sure what that meant, I mean clan Camaalis probably had some amazing healers right? They were all so different, like a hundred different things caused them. Guess I don’t want to go into it too far. But they were pretty and delicate - I liked them.
Darren didn’t like me fiddling with them though, guess he didn’t want to think about them much either. Still, I’m not going to let him wiggle away even for the sake of old memories. I’ll look at healing them later. Now’s for much more fun healing. He felt my hand leave his back and I could see him tense, his buttocks clenching together tightly. That was a mistake, only made the slap hurt more when it landed. When the second came he had relaxed those beautiful mounds again. Again the heavy rhythm filled the flat, my hand dancing hard on the tight cloth of his trousers, as fast as I could. It sounded like a dance beat with a fast percussion, my hand was blurring. That was the problem with him being so stubborn, my hand was beginning to sting like fury - the sacrifices I make!
It didn’t last long, he didn’t struggle this time, he knew better and there was a limit to even his stubbornness. Well, I hoped there was. I rested one hand lightly on his backside, he flinched slightly at my touch before relaxing again. I could feel the heat even through the linen of his trousers and the brushed silk of his boxer shorts beneath. That had to sting like fury. I stroked his hair with my other hand, I didn’t need to hold him down any more. I ran my fingers through that thick, soft mass, and gently stroked his face beneath. His rapid breathing slowly stilled, becoming calm, but cautious.
When I rolled him over onto his back on the bed, the shining rage in his eyes had dulled, replaced by caution and a slight tightness of pain. Yep, definitely stinging. He did glare when I drew my shiny knife again, but he didn't fight me or call magic again, he'd learnt that lesson. See? Who said he couldn't be taught? I cut away those ultra-tight trousers, cutting through the seems as if through water. The flimsy scraps of cloth came away so easily, only the thick, rough silk of his black boxer shorts broke the shining line of his pure white beautiful body. The jewels of his tattoos seemed to glow in the dim light of the bedroom - just the vibrant colours, not magic. The skin around them was angry and red from his power, matched by the burns on his chest beneath the dangling pentacle ward chained round his neck. His thin gloves still hid the ones on his hands. There was a lot of magical barriers around him, with his and mine. Scary thing? Despite them all, he'd still nearly broken through - if he wasn’t afraid of calling his full power, I think he would have managed. Yeah, he is fucking scarily powerful.
I had to take time over the underwear. He feels fucking amazing through silk. I stroked along the front of him, feeling him pressed hard against the material for all his struggling - his body was definitely happy with what was happening. I built up as system. Stroke ever so gently, cut away a strip of cloth. Come back in for another teasing caress, and come away with another bit of cloth. I ran my hand down the thick rod of him pushing desperately against the increasingly brief cloth, before pulling away another long strip of expensive silk. A firm, almost fierce grasp, and another sliver of black cloth comes free. Soon only the skimpiest scrap of soft material pins his straining cock to his body - and that pushed almost to splitting. I put down the knife and lean forwards, holding his eyes with mine until the very last minute. Then I opened my mouth and forced as much of him inside me as possible, tasting him through the rough cloth. It quickly became thick and damp, from the pale liquid leaking from him, and the thinner saliva I couldn't help but drool as I worked my tongue into the cloth, tracing the shape of him. Finally, after one fierce suck that nearly tore the cloth away, I pulled my head back. At the last minute I closed my teeth down, gripping the tight remains of his underwear, missing his cock by the thickness of a shadow. I think I grazed him... but only slightly. The cloth tore away under my teeth, leaving him completely naked.
I just had to spend a few minutes looking at him, I always do when I see him naked in front of me. He is just the height of sexy. He’s actually almost to fucking beautiful to be sexy. But those eyes and that throbbing cock lace everything with just enough lust to make him more than just an amazing piece of art.
But this wasn’t just a simple fuck. If ever sleeping with Darren could be considered to be a simple fuck of course. I pulled out the next surprise from my bag of tricks - several lengths of rope. Darren’s wide, slightly unfocused eyes narrowed. And darkened. Oh dear, you’d think he would have learned by now, wouldn’t you? Yep, the spirits in the wards quickly whispered along a warning to me, long before they started glowing. I never even gave them a chance to glow. With one hand on his leash I pulled him up quickly. He choked at the pull on his collar, any spells he was planning on dying before he could even begin to push them through the wards. He managed to get his breath back just as I pulled his naked body over my lap again.
He wiggled a lot more fiercely this time, and without his clothes you could see why. Darren’s very pale skin marked easily, and both of those beautiful tight buttocks were no longer a flawless ice white, but an angry flaming red, going incredibly dark in the middle. I could see the outline of my fingers several times. That definitely had to hurt... I could almost feel sorry for him. He didn’t struggle once I’d got him in place, just laid extremely tense, that lovely shiny backside twitching slightly. You’d have to be incredibly cruel to push this any further...
Of course, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind right? Or to have great sex anyway. The first slap sounded like a pistol crack, Darren’s whole body leapt as it landed. The second slap landed before he did, the third already following before the echoes had died away. In seconds he was bucking and struggling like a mad man, I don't think he was really trying to get away, just sometimes your body struggles no matter what your mind does. He was making strange muffled sounds, if he weren’t so fucking stubborn I’d be sure he was actually pleading. His backside flared a bright angry red, my own hand was beginning to sting like fury, even as I alternated swats from each palm. The spanking was fast and fierce, but didn't last too long, I’m not that cruel. Alright, I am but my hands are hurting like fuck, it’s a tough job this you know. Darren wasn't fighting me, anyway. He was learning, I’m sure of it.
He lay there panting, breath coming in harsh gasps. I could still feel his cock pushed hard against the leather of my trousers, he was still extremely erect. Trust me, he does like this. I gently pulled him up to sit in my lap, he winced as his sore buttocks took his weight. His face was nearly as red as his backside, the black, rune covered ball gag stood out sharply in his mouth. His eyes weren't glaring any more, they were wary and a little lost. I hugged him, pressing his head into my chest, stroking a hand comfortingly up and down the skin of his back, tracing the fine lines of his scars. You could just feel them if you really concentrated. I murmured soothing words and kissed him gently, like a parent would a scared child. He clamed extremely quickly. That was almost sad really, it told you how often he had had to recover before, how practiced he had come to it. He once said he found pain comforting, comforting because he was so used to it, it was familiar to him. I really need to stop thinking now, think too much about Darren and you may just fall over and burst into tears.
I eased him off my lap, eased hi back onto the bed, face up. His eyes followed me warily, but he moved only where I told him to, not a twitch more. He watched me pull the lengths of rope onto the huge oversized bed (I so need a huge bed - and not just for orgies, I like to have space to move around when I sleep). He didn't do a thing to protest. I checked the ward spirits, but no, even his magic was quiet.
He didn't move as I tied his feet to the footboard of the bed (it was a complex wrought iron thing, Darren was slowly transforming this room). He didn't even take advantage of me unfastening the handcuffs briefly (this was the danger zone, those handcuffs were the most powerful of the wards) to reattach them to the head board with another length of warded rope. I finished up with a long length of rope, glittering with wards, threaded under the bed and over his hips, tying his body down and really restricting movement. His skin was dimpled by the rope, I’d made them all too tight really, and the little stones laced into the rope had to be digging cruelly into his flesh.
The I pulled out a knife again - not my old shiny knife. That was practical but not very magical. To be honest, unless you really go out of your way, most knives which can be sued inc ceremonies are fucking useless for daily use. This one was magical, and old. It was one of the first fetishes I'd ever made, filled with a powerful ancestor spirits who had walked the spiritual realms of centuries., I was actually kind of scared of this knife, and the Eternal Eye of the Ancestor inside it. It was really powerful though, my best work was done with this and a couple of other seriously kick-arse fetishes. The mere fact I owned one was enough to make most spirits sit up and take notice.
It helped that it looked the part to. the blade was pitch black with ivory inscriptions running down it. It had taken me months just to research those flowing lines. The hilt was capped in a long band of copper wire that hummed constantly. Occasionally electric blue sparks chased along the electrum quillions (yes it’s a traditional fetish but I had to give it my slant, or there wouldn't be much point, really would there?) The whole thing was slightly fuzzy, like it had just come out of the forge and was still wavering as it cooled, or like something you see through a heat haze or something. I don’t think Darren had ever seen it before, he usually avoided me when I was doing the shaman stuff, he scared the spirits too much to let me get anything done.
He was seeing it now, and judging by how wide his eyes were, he wasn't happy with it. I grinned, making it sexy and predatory as possible. I angled the knife to let it catch the light. Darren’s cock, that had started to sag just slightly, jerked back up to full attention. This was going to be good.
I crawled to his left pectoral, running my fingers lightly over the nipple. The sound of my leather trousers brushing over the sheets was electric. I found that slightly darker circle of skin and gleefully sank my teeth into it. I bit down hard, nails digging furrows into his chest and stomach. He shook under me, completely pinned by the ropes. I drew back, admiring the impression of my teeth in his flesh. I laid a gentle kiss on the wound and licked my way slowly lower. I paused on any of the long scratches I found, licking them clean, especially where just a little blood had pulled itself to the surface. I licked further down, keeping my hands on his nipples, though, pinching and squeezing. He didn’t have as sensitive nipples as some guys I’ve been with, but would still react when they got sore enough.
Nibbling is amazingly effective, especially that hollow just before you reach his groin. Soft nibble, a gentle, lick then... BITE. Yup, perfect, those ropes are really going to chafe if he keeps moving around like that. I keep nibbling just tantalisingly close to his groin, at the same time flicking his nipples with my fingers. His pale skin is wonderful - it reddens so quickly.
He’s definitely pleading now, even through the ball gag you can hear him. I get off him. He doesn’t like that at all, he almost - almost, called his magic, before he thought better of it. It's official - lesson learned!
With some shifting and brief unclipping of handcuffs, his hands were bound crosswise on the headboard. Darren looked at me with confused eyes. I moved to the feet, rolling him onto his stomach (he groaned and fought wildly, either because he thought I was going to spank him again or because the rope round his middle near cut him in half). I was getting good at knots, it was the work of seconds to re-secure his feet. He cranes his neck to look back at me a little panicky. I give him another predatory grin, moved aside a huge pile of hair and rubbed his poor red backside suggestively. He flinched. I gripped his hair harder and forced his head down so he couldn’t look.
I left him like that for as long as I could... which wasn't very long. These leather trousers had become waaaay too tight with my cock near exploding inside them.
I uncapped the ever handy tube of lube. He quivered, not knowing what I was doing, trying to piece together the sounds he was hearing. I left him guessing while I liberally lubed up my cock. At the last minute I applied some to his hole. He relaxed. Utterly and completely, totally at peace. OK, I admit that brought a lump to my throat. He just opened it all to me, let down all barriers, no matter what. You’ve got to love that. And be a little humbled by that to be honest.
He was fully open to me. Even with the amount of practice I’ve had it took me an age to open the laces on the front of my leather trousers. The snapped open with a sigh of great pressure released - OK, I need baggier trousers if I’m going to get this tense in future.
I lay on top of him, lining myself carefully up with his hunger arse. He shivers as my leather waistcoat touches the bare skin of his back. Slowly, I ease myself into him, revelling in him accepting every inch without even the most token or resistance. Even when I end up pushing my hips against his extremely sore backside, he doesn’t protest. Shit, I love him.
I was gentle... considering the set up, I was REALLY gentle... Of course it didn’t last. Soon the gentle easing my way in, and slowly pulling myself out was met by his arse being pushed up as hard and fast as the rope around his waist would let him. I could feel him pushing insanely against the rope - he was going to fucking seriously hurt himself if he kept that up!
Only one thing for it then - fuck him properly. Sore arse or not, I started pounding him into the mattress - full length, full strength, full speed.
He was an animal under me. The ball gag denied him words, even if he wanted them, so all I got was some fucking wild sounds! He couldn’t move much, so he was practically vibrating under me. After that, everything just became a blur. Me thrusting my cock as hard and fast as I could between those gorgeous red buttocks, one hands buried in his hair, yanking it left and right, the other beating on anything I could find. We could play find the bruise on Darren for weeks afterwards - I was that far gone, and that in control.
we were both so worked up it took just a few minutes before we were both brought to the edge. The feel of him so hot beneath me, the feel of his abused flesh under my hops was enough to drive me wild. The rhythm of my thrusts deep inside him became ragged and fiercer... I’m sure they must have hurt - really fucking hurt, but I think he was past caring by this point. All I know is, he came first, I felt it, the clenching of painful muscles and the sheer explosion under me! That set me off - sweet spirits did it send me off!
I don’t know if I said anything - alright the chances are I screamed my head off - but even then I can’t have been as loud as Darren was - he raised the roof! Even through the ball gag! I felt his magic slip it’s bonds as he came, orgasm driving it forth like a hammer. A hammer that hit the wards and bounced back into him - the backlash was incredible! So much power, so little space! Then I came, hot and incredible inside him. My whole body felt like it was on fire, battered and beaten but so unbelievably alive! Sex with Darren WAS life!
I lay sprawled on top of him. He recovered first, he usually does, but this time it was because my full weight was pressing down on his poor buttocks. Eventually his muffled complaints got through to me, and I pulled of his gag, pulling out a clump of hair at the same time by accident. There was a brief pause...
“You are going top pay for that Rick...” I think he’s mastered the art of quiet menace. Unfortunately, it was kind of wasted on me - especially when the guy doing the menacing is naked, tied up, helpless and has a very sore bottom.
“Put it on my bill. Speaking of which, you have some paying to do...”
A quick, worried look. I will use my power only for good. Honest. “What?”
“Didn’t I just teach you not to use magic while all tied up? We had three lessons... and still getting it wrong... tut tut.” I tapped his nose, lightly.
Not wary now, just slightly panicky. “Rick... Rick, you don't have to... I mean, there’s got to be a... err..”
I just grinned my predatory grin and watched him squirm. Life was good.
For the record, I don't like this or how it turned out.
Also for protection against angry people with squick ratings - there is kink - mild kink, but still kink. Go no further if bondage/light S&M worries you.
He was sat in one of his favourite moping poses, staring blankly out of the window, with that weird expression that a poet would probably call ‘wistful sadness’. Personally, I'd call it ‘studied angst for the Goth wannabe.’ He should sell a book - Dramatic Poses for the Depressed. One trip to California and we’d make millions.
Alright, harsh, I know. I think I’m probably more sick of shovelling emotions round than I thought. It is worth it though, and he does have a reason for the angst - it’s not like one of those girls you meet, threatening to kill themselves every five minutes because they’re fifteen and their life is over because a guy doesn’t like them. One of these days I’m going to get organised tours to South-east Asia or Africa or parts of South America or somewhere and drag these angst queens around people who are really suffering. Shit, I bet I could find some real suffering without having to leave the country, probably not the city - we don’t live in the best world here.
Getting severely off topic here. Concentrate on Darren... he didn’t even hear the squeak of leather as I got closer. Ahrimadan did, sprawled across the cushions of the settee. His golden eyes did a quick survey of me in the leather get up. I thought for a second he'd give me away. He grinned - Ok, he's a cat, he’s always kind of grinning, but you know when he means it as a grin. I think it’s a feline talent more than a daemon talent. His eyes flick briefly to Darren, before he raises himself imperiously to his feet and pads silently from the room, still grinning hugely. I’ll never figure out that cat.
Still, it left me a free route right up behind Darren. Whatever he was looking at seemed to be holding his attention, or whatever he was thinking. I’m not sure I wanted to know. He didn't even move as I gently kissed the nape of his neck. It actually took me several kisses before he melted a little, eyes closed. His face was still frowning though, fine lines across his forehead, a tightness round his eyes. He was trying not to relax, really desperately not to relax. Yup, this is definitely going to affect out sex life, it’d be like sleeping with an alabaster statue.
I slipped my hands gently onto his, guiding them slowly backwards... he didn’t fight me, but he didn’t help either. His closed eyes looked like he’d squeezed them shut, like he’s afraid to look at me. Shit, he wasn’t this bad when we first slept together... I’m not letting this happen, so not letting him pull away from me. I pulled his arms further behind him, pulling them closer to me... he pulled back, trying to pull his hands back. Nope, not letting him go, not letting him pull away. He gave up quickly enough to give me some hope. He sighed and slumped a little - he didn’t relax into me, I knew despair when I saw it. It’s against the fucking rules to despair when I’m planning hot kinky sex!
One sharp pull, and I jerked his hands back, knocking him off balance. Two short sharp clicks sounded loud even other Darren’s gasp. Now he tried to spin round to look at me, stumbling slightly since I wasn’t letting his hands go - and it’s amazing how much control you have over someone in handcuffs. He opened his mouth in shock, I could see the outrage glowing in his eyes - oh yes, the light ion his eyes is back! Alright, it’s anger, but it’s a start!
His words died when he saw the leather... ah, then light isn't anger now! I know that light - told you he was as kinky as me. If he keeps his mouth open any longer he’s going start drooling. Self-esteem all better now. And there’s an added bonus - gaping mouths are very convenient when you have a ball gag near to hand. There’s the anger again. Darkly shining eyes, got to love it.
“No fucking way you’re dropping into an angst hole until I’ve got to have my say!” Next to collar and the long leash, “and isn’t action better than words?” He kept on glaring at me as I fastened the collar round his neck, buckling it down neatly. Perfect.
“Come along, slave boy, I haven’t seen you on my bed for far too long.” I had to practically drag him to his feet - he was not a happy bunny. He never is at first. He seemed co-operative. I should have been wary about that, right?
It was like someone let a flare off in the room. Those weird colours blurred my vision, even though I’d squeezed my eyes shut just in time. The light was nothing on the sudden flare of power that knocked me off my feet and sent me sprawling over the sofa. The problem of a leather sofa when you’re wearing nothing but leather? You slide, seriously. Darren was laid out on the floor looking like someone had hit him in the head with a hammer. The handcuffs, collar and gag were all still firmly in place. I grinned at him.
“Lesson numero uno, sexy, the gear is all warded.” You have NO idea how hard it is to convince a spirit of Righteous Purity into a ball gag. Seriously not easy. The collar’s got a spirit of light in it, an experiment really, I mean Darren’s always going on about his darkness. Seems the metaphor holds. The handcuffs are my old favourites from ages ago, each little rune engraved into them has a minor spirit. The spirits are really tiny, but there are so many different kinds that work well together that they're far stronger than anything else I have. That’s probably got some political message in it somewhere. Screw it, politics later, kink now.
“First one’s free, sexy. Try it again and you’ll pay for it.” Will he push it? Probably wouldn’t have before, but now I’ve told him not to, he’s bound to try it. Yes, I am manipulating him, but it’s so much fun.
Sure enough, the wards begin to glow just a little as he tests them - I wasn’t suppose to notice him I bet, but those spirits are terrible tell-tails. Can’t say I didn’t warn him, can you? I reached out from the settee and grabbed the trailing end of the lead, dragging him reluctantly towards me. He tried to say something past the gag, before being pulled over the arm of the sofa and across my lap. He craned his neck to look at me, eyes wide - yep, he knew what was coming.
He jerked sharply when I brought my hand hard down on his beautiful backside - he does have one of the tightest arses I’ve ever seen. As the second hard slap lands he tries to twist on my lap - the better to glare at me I think. I held the handcuffs to stop him wriggling away and start on a full scale barrage - sharp and fast, that's the way. It’s much easier to deal with a slow, hard spanking than it is with a fast one. I get a great rhythm going - told you I was a great musician, even with the sexiest of drums! Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek - drumming out the most amazing beat. Then, just to throw him, switch; left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, left cheek left cheek. It’s really fucking amazing how easily you can hold someone steady with just one hand on the chain on a pair of handcuffs. Darren really should have invested in thicker pairs of trousers, these linen things are so not providing any padding for him!
I keep up the rhythm - well, alright, I may have increased the tempo just a little, and maybe the strength. But not by much, well, not by very much anyway. I finally stopped when he stopped fighting to get up. If he couldn't stand being the boss, then I was going to be. One way or another, he was going to accept me in control. If that meant Darren wasn’t going to be sitting down very comfortably for the next few days, then I’m willing to make that noble sacrifice. Aren’t I a saint?
I stood, pulling him with me. His eyes blazed anger at me, his face flushed with colour - it stood out amazingly in his pale skin. He was muttering constantly around the ball gag. He’d stopped struggling though. See? He did learn.
He even walked meekly (well, fairly meekly) through to the bedroom behind me. He lay down on the bed, a perfectly obedient little slave, except for the burning eyes anyway. Pinning him with one hand, I drew my trusty silver blade. It’s shiny, sexy and beautiful, everyone should have one! It’s also fucking sharp, cut right through Darren’s shirt with no effort at all, I’d cut it free from him almost before he knew what I was doing. Of course, he did realise in the end and began to yell through the gag. I didn’t understand, but I don’t think I really had to - he thought far too much of his clothes. Way too much, ‘cos the spirits tell me he’s broken the rule again... his eyes have time to swim and darken before he’s upended again.
he had time for one wordless yell before my hand came down again on that yummy backside of his. Not as much build up this time, start in full on at full speed and strength. No second warnings right? Well, I didn’t believe in them! He struggled massive for the first ten swats, really useless since I'm stronger than him anyway, and you don't have much leverage when laid across someone's lap with your hands pinned behind you. He’s a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly. Unfortunately for him he was a stubborn man as well and it wasn’t until another burst of twenty swats that he finally stopped fighting me and just lay muttering and twitching. I guess I’d let him off on that, it must be pretty hard to not twitch by now.
He lay still while I ran gentle fingers down his back, tracing some of his long faded old scars. He’d never really told me how he got them. Having looked in his mind, I’m not sure I really want to know. There were a lot of them, but they were all so small, faded and old. I’m not sure what that meant, I mean clan Camaalis probably had some amazing healers right? They were all so different, like a hundred different things caused them. Guess I don’t want to go into it too far. But they were pretty and delicate - I liked them.
Darren didn’t like me fiddling with them though, guess he didn’t want to think about them much either. Still, I’m not going to let him wiggle away even for the sake of old memories. I’ll look at healing them later. Now’s for much more fun healing. He felt my hand leave his back and I could see him tense, his buttocks clenching together tightly. That was a mistake, only made the slap hurt more when it landed. When the second came he had relaxed those beautiful mounds again. Again the heavy rhythm filled the flat, my hand dancing hard on the tight cloth of his trousers, as fast as I could. It sounded like a dance beat with a fast percussion, my hand was blurring. That was the problem with him being so stubborn, my hand was beginning to sting like fury - the sacrifices I make!
It didn’t last long, he didn’t struggle this time, he knew better and there was a limit to even his stubbornness. Well, I hoped there was. I rested one hand lightly on his backside, he flinched slightly at my touch before relaxing again. I could feel the heat even through the linen of his trousers and the brushed silk of his boxer shorts beneath. That had to sting like fury. I stroked his hair with my other hand, I didn’t need to hold him down any more. I ran my fingers through that thick, soft mass, and gently stroked his face beneath. His rapid breathing slowly stilled, becoming calm, but cautious.
When I rolled him over onto his back on the bed, the shining rage in his eyes had dulled, replaced by caution and a slight tightness of pain. Yep, definitely stinging. He did glare when I drew my shiny knife again, but he didn't fight me or call magic again, he'd learnt that lesson. See? Who said he couldn't be taught? I cut away those ultra-tight trousers, cutting through the seems as if through water. The flimsy scraps of cloth came away so easily, only the thick, rough silk of his black boxer shorts broke the shining line of his pure white beautiful body. The jewels of his tattoos seemed to glow in the dim light of the bedroom - just the vibrant colours, not magic. The skin around them was angry and red from his power, matched by the burns on his chest beneath the dangling pentacle ward chained round his neck. His thin gloves still hid the ones on his hands. There was a lot of magical barriers around him, with his and mine. Scary thing? Despite them all, he'd still nearly broken through - if he wasn’t afraid of calling his full power, I think he would have managed. Yeah, he is fucking scarily powerful.
I had to take time over the underwear. He feels fucking amazing through silk. I stroked along the front of him, feeling him pressed hard against the material for all his struggling - his body was definitely happy with what was happening. I built up as system. Stroke ever so gently, cut away a strip of cloth. Come back in for another teasing caress, and come away with another bit of cloth. I ran my hand down the thick rod of him pushing desperately against the increasingly brief cloth, before pulling away another long strip of expensive silk. A firm, almost fierce grasp, and another sliver of black cloth comes free. Soon only the skimpiest scrap of soft material pins his straining cock to his body - and that pushed almost to splitting. I put down the knife and lean forwards, holding his eyes with mine until the very last minute. Then I opened my mouth and forced as much of him inside me as possible, tasting him through the rough cloth. It quickly became thick and damp, from the pale liquid leaking from him, and the thinner saliva I couldn't help but drool as I worked my tongue into the cloth, tracing the shape of him. Finally, after one fierce suck that nearly tore the cloth away, I pulled my head back. At the last minute I closed my teeth down, gripping the tight remains of his underwear, missing his cock by the thickness of a shadow. I think I grazed him... but only slightly. The cloth tore away under my teeth, leaving him completely naked.
I just had to spend a few minutes looking at him, I always do when I see him naked in front of me. He is just the height of sexy. He’s actually almost to fucking beautiful to be sexy. But those eyes and that throbbing cock lace everything with just enough lust to make him more than just an amazing piece of art.
But this wasn’t just a simple fuck. If ever sleeping with Darren could be considered to be a simple fuck of course. I pulled out the next surprise from my bag of tricks - several lengths of rope. Darren’s wide, slightly unfocused eyes narrowed. And darkened. Oh dear, you’d think he would have learned by now, wouldn’t you? Yep, the spirits in the wards quickly whispered along a warning to me, long before they started glowing. I never even gave them a chance to glow. With one hand on his leash I pulled him up quickly. He choked at the pull on his collar, any spells he was planning on dying before he could even begin to push them through the wards. He managed to get his breath back just as I pulled his naked body over my lap again.
He wiggled a lot more fiercely this time, and without his clothes you could see why. Darren’s very pale skin marked easily, and both of those beautiful tight buttocks were no longer a flawless ice white, but an angry flaming red, going incredibly dark in the middle. I could see the outline of my fingers several times. That definitely had to hurt... I could almost feel sorry for him. He didn’t struggle once I’d got him in place, just laid extremely tense, that lovely shiny backside twitching slightly. You’d have to be incredibly cruel to push this any further...
Of course, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind right? Or to have great sex anyway. The first slap sounded like a pistol crack, Darren’s whole body leapt as it landed. The second slap landed before he did, the third already following before the echoes had died away. In seconds he was bucking and struggling like a mad man, I don't think he was really trying to get away, just sometimes your body struggles no matter what your mind does. He was making strange muffled sounds, if he weren’t so fucking stubborn I’d be sure he was actually pleading. His backside flared a bright angry red, my own hand was beginning to sting like fury, even as I alternated swats from each palm. The spanking was fast and fierce, but didn't last too long, I’m not that cruel. Alright, I am but my hands are hurting like fuck, it’s a tough job this you know. Darren wasn't fighting me, anyway. He was learning, I’m sure of it.
He lay there panting, breath coming in harsh gasps. I could still feel his cock pushed hard against the leather of my trousers, he was still extremely erect. Trust me, he does like this. I gently pulled him up to sit in my lap, he winced as his sore buttocks took his weight. His face was nearly as red as his backside, the black, rune covered ball gag stood out sharply in his mouth. His eyes weren't glaring any more, they were wary and a little lost. I hugged him, pressing his head into my chest, stroking a hand comfortingly up and down the skin of his back, tracing the fine lines of his scars. You could just feel them if you really concentrated. I murmured soothing words and kissed him gently, like a parent would a scared child. He clamed extremely quickly. That was almost sad really, it told you how often he had had to recover before, how practiced he had come to it. He once said he found pain comforting, comforting because he was so used to it, it was familiar to him. I really need to stop thinking now, think too much about Darren and you may just fall over and burst into tears.
I eased him off my lap, eased hi back onto the bed, face up. His eyes followed me warily, but he moved only where I told him to, not a twitch more. He watched me pull the lengths of rope onto the huge oversized bed (I so need a huge bed - and not just for orgies, I like to have space to move around when I sleep). He didn't do a thing to protest. I checked the ward spirits, but no, even his magic was quiet.
He didn't move as I tied his feet to the footboard of the bed (it was a complex wrought iron thing, Darren was slowly transforming this room). He didn't even take advantage of me unfastening the handcuffs briefly (this was the danger zone, those handcuffs were the most powerful of the wards) to reattach them to the head board with another length of warded rope. I finished up with a long length of rope, glittering with wards, threaded under the bed and over his hips, tying his body down and really restricting movement. His skin was dimpled by the rope, I’d made them all too tight really, and the little stones laced into the rope had to be digging cruelly into his flesh.
The I pulled out a knife again - not my old shiny knife. That was practical but not very magical. To be honest, unless you really go out of your way, most knives which can be sued inc ceremonies are fucking useless for daily use. This one was magical, and old. It was one of the first fetishes I'd ever made, filled with a powerful ancestor spirits who had walked the spiritual realms of centuries., I was actually kind of scared of this knife, and the Eternal Eye of the Ancestor inside it. It was really powerful though, my best work was done with this and a couple of other seriously kick-arse fetishes. The mere fact I owned one was enough to make most spirits sit up and take notice.
It helped that it looked the part to. the blade was pitch black with ivory inscriptions running down it. It had taken me months just to research those flowing lines. The hilt was capped in a long band of copper wire that hummed constantly. Occasionally electric blue sparks chased along the electrum quillions (yes it’s a traditional fetish but I had to give it my slant, or there wouldn't be much point, really would there?) The whole thing was slightly fuzzy, like it had just come out of the forge and was still wavering as it cooled, or like something you see through a heat haze or something. I don’t think Darren had ever seen it before, he usually avoided me when I was doing the shaman stuff, he scared the spirits too much to let me get anything done.
He was seeing it now, and judging by how wide his eyes were, he wasn't happy with it. I grinned, making it sexy and predatory as possible. I angled the knife to let it catch the light. Darren’s cock, that had started to sag just slightly, jerked back up to full attention. This was going to be good.
I crawled to his left pectoral, running my fingers lightly over the nipple. The sound of my leather trousers brushing over the sheets was electric. I found that slightly darker circle of skin and gleefully sank my teeth into it. I bit down hard, nails digging furrows into his chest and stomach. He shook under me, completely pinned by the ropes. I drew back, admiring the impression of my teeth in his flesh. I laid a gentle kiss on the wound and licked my way slowly lower. I paused on any of the long scratches I found, licking them clean, especially where just a little blood had pulled itself to the surface. I licked further down, keeping my hands on his nipples, though, pinching and squeezing. He didn’t have as sensitive nipples as some guys I’ve been with, but would still react when they got sore enough.
Nibbling is amazingly effective, especially that hollow just before you reach his groin. Soft nibble, a gentle, lick then... BITE. Yup, perfect, those ropes are really going to chafe if he keeps moving around like that. I keep nibbling just tantalisingly close to his groin, at the same time flicking his nipples with my fingers. His pale skin is wonderful - it reddens so quickly.
He’s definitely pleading now, even through the ball gag you can hear him. I get off him. He doesn’t like that at all, he almost - almost, called his magic, before he thought better of it. It's official - lesson learned!
With some shifting and brief unclipping of handcuffs, his hands were bound crosswise on the headboard. Darren looked at me with confused eyes. I moved to the feet, rolling him onto his stomach (he groaned and fought wildly, either because he thought I was going to spank him again or because the rope round his middle near cut him in half). I was getting good at knots, it was the work of seconds to re-secure his feet. He cranes his neck to look back at me a little panicky. I give him another predatory grin, moved aside a huge pile of hair and rubbed his poor red backside suggestively. He flinched. I gripped his hair harder and forced his head down so he couldn’t look.
I left him like that for as long as I could... which wasn't very long. These leather trousers had become waaaay too tight with my cock near exploding inside them.
I uncapped the ever handy tube of lube. He quivered, not knowing what I was doing, trying to piece together the sounds he was hearing. I left him guessing while I liberally lubed up my cock. At the last minute I applied some to his hole. He relaxed. Utterly and completely, totally at peace. OK, I admit that brought a lump to my throat. He just opened it all to me, let down all barriers, no matter what. You’ve got to love that. And be a little humbled by that to be honest.
He was fully open to me. Even with the amount of practice I’ve had it took me an age to open the laces on the front of my leather trousers. The snapped open with a sigh of great pressure released - OK, I need baggier trousers if I’m going to get this tense in future.
I lay on top of him, lining myself carefully up with his hunger arse. He shivers as my leather waistcoat touches the bare skin of his back. Slowly, I ease myself into him, revelling in him accepting every inch without even the most token or resistance. Even when I end up pushing my hips against his extremely sore backside, he doesn’t protest. Shit, I love him.
I was gentle... considering the set up, I was REALLY gentle... Of course it didn’t last. Soon the gentle easing my way in, and slowly pulling myself out was met by his arse being pushed up as hard and fast as the rope around his waist would let him. I could feel him pushing insanely against the rope - he was going to fucking seriously hurt himself if he kept that up!
Only one thing for it then - fuck him properly. Sore arse or not, I started pounding him into the mattress - full length, full strength, full speed.
He was an animal under me. The ball gag denied him words, even if he wanted them, so all I got was some fucking wild sounds! He couldn’t move much, so he was practically vibrating under me. After that, everything just became a blur. Me thrusting my cock as hard and fast as I could between those gorgeous red buttocks, one hands buried in his hair, yanking it left and right, the other beating on anything I could find. We could play find the bruise on Darren for weeks afterwards - I was that far gone, and that in control.
we were both so worked up it took just a few minutes before we were both brought to the edge. The feel of him so hot beneath me, the feel of his abused flesh under my hops was enough to drive me wild. The rhythm of my thrusts deep inside him became ragged and fiercer... I’m sure they must have hurt - really fucking hurt, but I think he was past caring by this point. All I know is, he came first, I felt it, the clenching of painful muscles and the sheer explosion under me! That set me off - sweet spirits did it send me off!
I don’t know if I said anything - alright the chances are I screamed my head off - but even then I can’t have been as loud as Darren was - he raised the roof! Even through the ball gag! I felt his magic slip it’s bonds as he came, orgasm driving it forth like a hammer. A hammer that hit the wards and bounced back into him - the backlash was incredible! So much power, so little space! Then I came, hot and incredible inside him. My whole body felt like it was on fire, battered and beaten but so unbelievably alive! Sex with Darren WAS life!
I lay sprawled on top of him. He recovered first, he usually does, but this time it was because my full weight was pressing down on his poor buttocks. Eventually his muffled complaints got through to me, and I pulled of his gag, pulling out a clump of hair at the same time by accident. There was a brief pause...
“You are going top pay for that Rick...” I think he’s mastered the art of quiet menace. Unfortunately, it was kind of wasted on me - especially when the guy doing the menacing is naked, tied up, helpless and has a very sore bottom.
“Put it on my bill. Speaking of which, you have some paying to do...”
A quick, worried look. I will use my power only for good. Honest. “What?”
“Didn’t I just teach you not to use magic while all tied up? We had three lessons... and still getting it wrong... tut tut.” I tapped his nose, lightly.
Not wary now, just slightly panicky. “Rick... Rick, you don't have to... I mean, there’s got to be a... err..”
I just grinned my predatory grin and watched him squirm. Life was good.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-01-24 02:04 am (UTC)i think i need a darren. *purrrr*
mark would like to order one as well.
[*gasp!* i need a new "slash and burn" icon!]
(no subject)
Date: 2004-01-24 02:08 am (UTC)[but y'know, if a darren came with him, that'd be cool too. =p ]
(no subject)
Date: 2004-01-24 01:43 pm (UTC)C'mon boys, in the box...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-01-24 01:41 pm (UTC)Rick: Oh? Shall we start the bidding? The wards cost extra.
Darren: *glare*
everyone needs a Darren, but you need a cage for when he starts angsting.