...And six months later, there was a Second Fill! Definitely no match the the tasty original fill, but this PWP has been in my head for months because of this prompt and I finally put it to paper. If anyone sees it, posted way back here, here's hoping it amuses. :)
The inn they had chosen for the night was unremarkable, for the most part, but the single chair in their room - a plain wooden affair with sturdy armrests - gave Zevran an opportunity he'd been looking for in the past few days. He'd commissioned something a little unusual from a silversmith recently, and he'd been quite impatient to try it out. Or, more properly, to try it out on Darrian.
A smile came to Zevran's lips as he stood back for a moment and admired his handiwork. It was impossible not to feel the heat of anticipation when taking in the all too tempting sight before him: the other elf now occupied that chair, wrists and ankles bound to the wooden armrests and legs respectively. He was completely naked, which made it easy to appreciate the delicate flush that had spread across his pale skin, as well as other signs - some more subtle than others - of the Warden's state of excitement. The faster-than-usual rise and fall of his chest, the occasional nervous flex of his hands against the ends of the armrests, the tension in his limbs as he waited for Zevran to act... all of these things together presented a most delicious image.
Perhaps the most titillating sight, though, was the black strip of silk tied over the man's eyes. He had no idea what Zevran planned, and had put himself entirely at the assassin's mercy. Knowing that he had complete control over the other elf at the moment was heady in itself, but there were also Darrian's reactions to appreciate; from previous experience, he knew the elven Warden's responses to... interesting stimuli were magnified when he was blindfolded. When one sense was taken away, others were heightened, Zevran knew well, and elves' senses were sharp to begin with. He wanted the Warden to be able to concentrate on the unfamiliar sensations he was about to be introduced to, and this seemed an ideal way to ensure that.
It required a great deal of trust on Darrian's part, however, and although the Warden was always game to try whatever new pleasure Zevran wished to share with him, the Antivan elf stayed alert for any small sign of discomfort - physical or mental - from his lover. It had been more than a year since Darrian's ordeal in Fort Drakon, and while he seemed fine most of the time, every so often there would be a moment of unexpected, unreasoning panic, or a nightmare not fueled by the Darkspawn taint that nevertheless sent him thrashing in his sleep, making it all too clear that scars still remained.
With that in mind, it was amazing that Darrian submitted to this sort of play at all, but he was a strong soul, and as he had once imparted to Zevran, he would not let those who had hurt him win by taking away his ability to enjoy another's touch. They had proceeded cautiously in those first days and weeks after the Wardens had been rescued from the fort, but after the Archdemon was slain and Darrian had recovered from that astonishing battle, his spirit had seemed lighter, freed from the responsibility that had loomed over him for a year. For a while, things were almost normal between them, perhaps even better than before...
Something Unfamiliar [2/5]
anonymous
November 24 2010, 03:17:52 UTC
But then Zevran had returned to Antiva, and although he had done so in large part for the Warden's safety, he couldn't blame Darrian for the bitterness that seemed to linger in the other elf's heart, small and silent and sharp as a hidden blade. The Warden's time in Amaranthine had been harrowing, and unlike during the Blight, Zevran hadn't been there to help him. Worse, the assassination attempt Zevran had tried to stop from Antiva had occurred anyway. It had failed, of course, but the time he had spent re-immersing himself in the world of the Crows surely seemed wasted to Darrian.
It hadn't been, and other useful gains had been made in that time, but no... he couldn't deny the Warden's right to feel as if he had been abandoned.
Leaving Antiva had seemed to help; perhaps Darrian had feared he had lost Zevran to the Crows after all. Once they had begun to cross the Free Marches, that almost imperceptible layer of ice had started to thaw, and at moments like this, the Warden seemed once again the man who Zevran had known so well, the hard edges he had gained since then softened, at least for a little while.
Moments like this... Zevran walked silently around the other elf, marvelling at the strength of his trust, even after their long separation. The assassin could kill him right now in any number of ways, but Darrian probably didn't even consider that a possibility. That sort of blind faith was exactly why the Crows eschewed "love" as a liability to be purged. But Darrian was not a Crow, and neither was Zevran, anymore...
"Are you ready?" he finally said out loud, causing the Warden to turn his head towards him, listening.
"Since I don't know what to be prepared for... I suppose I'm as ready as I can be," the other elf replied, his light tone not quite masking the nervousness in his voice.
Real fear was undesirable, but nervousness was fine; that was part of the thrill of being blindfolded, after all. Zevran stealthily moved to stand behind the chair, giving his lover no indication of where he was. The elven Warden tilted his head and held quite still for a moment, listening, and Zevran spent a moment admiring the exposed line of his neck before bending down to press his lips softly against the pale skin there.
Darrian didn't bother to suppress his shiver, and the assassin smiled as he felt the other man's pulse quicken. He left a line of kisses along the Warden's shoulder before moving away again and pulling his new toy from his pocket.
It was a slender steel rod, only a little longer than the width of Zevran's hand, but he dared not try something longer on someone new to this practice. Rather than a simple cylinder, the rod was shaped more like a row of elongated beads, a series of gentle flares and tapers, with a ring piercing one end. The silversmith had been more than a little alarmed when Zevran had delicately explained the true purpose of the rod and the ring (the man had assumed it was simply an unusual pendant), but he had done good work, regardless.
And now, the assassin thought, it is my turn for some good work... Without a word of warning, Zevran began to trace whisper-light lines along Darrian's body with the tip of the rod. He started from the tattoo on the Warden's shoulder, a mark he had drawn with his own hands, and moved down his chest, slowly circling each nipple in a tightening spiral. Darrian's back arched at the touch of the warmed metal, but he managed to hold back a vocal reaction, for now.
Zevran chuckled softly at the implied challenge. He'd have the other elf crying out soon enough, he was sure. "Do you know what this is, querido?" he murmured as he traced down Darrian's abdomen.
The question stilled the Warden's slight movements as he likely began to wonder what exactly the thing was and what Zevran intended to do with it. After a moment, he shook his head in negation.
"Mm, as I thought," the assassin said in satisfaction as he traced the tattoo along Darrian's right hip, another mark he'd left on the younger man. "It will be a pleasant surprise, then, yes?"
Something Unfamiliar [3/5]
anonymous
November 24 2010, 03:19:26 UTC
Darrian flinched as Zevran slid the tip of the rod across his thigh and up along his sex, his sudden intake of breath clearly audible. The Antivan elf, on the other hand, kept silent as he stepped back for a moment and withdrew a small vial from his pocket. Quietly, he worked out the stopper and poured out some of the slippery liquid contents, thoroughly coating the carved steel before setting the vial aside. Holding the rod carefully so that it would not drip onto Darrian and perhaps provide a hint of his intent, he moved closer and gently encircled the other elf's cock with his free hand. As the assassin expected, Darrian tensed at his touch, but after a long moment where nothing happened, he relaxed slightly. Taking that as his cue, Zevran pressed the end of the rod lightly against the slit at the Warden's tip.
"You must tell me if this hurts, and we will stop," he said softly. Before the other elf could do much more than draw an audible breath of startled realization, Zevran began to slowly and carefully slide the rod into the Warden.
"Zevran, wh-what-" Darrian's demand for an explanation broke off with another gasp.
"Have I hurt you?" the assassin asked, unable to hold back a grin. The rapid hardening of the Warden's cock in Zevran's hand proved that this was probably not the case, but he dutifully asked anyway.
"N-no, but..." Aside from involuntary quivers, the younger elf seemed to be trying to hold quite still, perhaps afraid of hurting himself against this unfamiliar toy. Wanting him to relax, Zevran leaned down to distract him with a kiss, sucking lightly on Darrian's lower lip until the other man opened to him. As he slid his tongue between the Warden's parted lips, the assassin teased his lover by using one hand to tug the rod out an inch or so and letting it slide home, the ring on top preventing it from falling in too far. The utterly unfamiliar sensation drew a soft, breathy moan from Darrian, the sound transmuted into a tangible sensation against Zevran's lips as he repeated the motion.
Wanting to draw this out, the Antivan elf broke away from the kiss with some reluctance and moved to stand behind his lover, using one hand to help him brace his weight against the chair. He meant to give Darrian some time to get accustomed to the feeling of the steel inside him, to savor it, before moving on to further pleasures, so he resisted the urge to stroke the heated flesh in his other hand and simply used one finger to hold the rod in place so that it would not slide free. Darrian let out a sound of something like disappointment as Zevran's encircling hand drew away, and the assassin chuckled softly, knowingly, before running his tongue up along the helix of his lover's ear.
"How do you like it?" he asked before nibbling delicately at the Warden's pointed eartip. As he'd expected, this drew a quiet gasp rather than a reply to his question, but the slow flex of the other elf's hips was answer enough. Still, Zevran pressed him to speak, wanting to hear him struggle for words, for air. "Tell me," he murmured into the Warden's ear, using his free hand to slowly thrust the rod in and out.
Darrian's hands tightened on the chair's armrests as he took in a ragged breath. "It's... it's good," he managed to say, the brevity of the comment a sign that he was trying to hold back some less controlled vocalization.
"'Good', my dear Warden?" Zevran echoed with a grin. "That is all?" A series of nips down the edge of Darrian's ear broke the younger elf's resolve and he let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry as he writhed in the chair.
"Maker's Breath," the Warden gasped, "Zev..."
The sound of Darrian's voice, strained and breathless, was as electric to the Antivan elf as any passionate caress, and his leathers were becoming uncomfortably tight. Still, he did not relent, and simply made an inquisitive noise, forcing the Warden to speak further.
"It's... it's..." Zevran couldn't quite tell if the other elf was searching for a word or simply having difficulty speaking coherently. "It's incredible," he finally managed to say, "Zev, please..."
Something Unfamiliar [4/5]
anonymous
November 24 2010, 03:20:45 UTC
"'Please' what?" the assassin asked silkily before biting gently along Darrian's neck, not quite hard enough to leave lingering marks. Not yet, anyway. "Please... stop?"
"Nnno..." The word started as a moan and ended with a soft hitch in the Warden's breathing.
Zevran knew what the other man wanted, but he was toying with him now. "Please... do this a bit more?" Again, he slipped his finger through the ring at the end of the rod and drew it in and out with agonizing slowness. The Warden pushed back against the chair, an almost pained cry escaping his lips. The sensation of the rod stroking him from the inside probably wasn't enough to make him come, but it was clearly pushing him unbearably close.
"Please," the dark-haired elf tried again, the unfeigned entreaty in his voice sending a thrill down the assassin's spine, "touch me."
Zevran took an unhurried moment to drink in the sight of the Warden straining against the ropes, his well-toned body covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. He could drag this out much longer, but perhaps if he gave in now, Darrian would still have the strength for other things later... "So impatient," he chuckled as he moved around to crouch in front of the other elf. The chair was making this a bit awkward, but it had been completely worth it, so far.
Darrian made no reply to the assassin's jibe, but his reaction when Zevran licked away the beads of clear fluid that had leaked from his tip was satisfyingly vocal, if entirely wordless. As Zevran wrapped his hand around the other elf's shaft and moved up and down in gentle strokes, he wondered idly if any of the inn's other patrons could hear them. He didn't particularly care, of course, but the thought of eavesdroppers was an entertaining one.
It didn't take long for the Warden to make a sound of frustration at Zevran's intentionally slow pace; struggling to brace his weight against the chair, he tried to thrust into the assassin's hand, and Zevran was amused, and aroused, enough by this show of desperation that he allowed it. It was rare to see the normally reserved Warden lose control so completely, and Zevran was enjoying the novelty of that as much as anything else.
In a few moments, Darrian was quivering on the verge of release, and Zevran pulled away, leaving the younger elf almost sobbing for breath. Before he could say anything, though, the assassin reached up to tug the blindfold loose. He wanted the Warden to see the rest of this.
Blue eyes blinked in the lantern light and met his own, gaze unfocused and pupils wide with desire. "Wh-what...?" the other elf whispered in confusion.
"Something I'd like you to see," Zevran purred, tugging a little on the rod to direct Darrian's attention downwards. Supporting the Warden with one hand, he let go of the rod, and after a moment of stillness, it began to rise, until nearly half of its length protruded from the tip of the shaft. Then, with no assistance, it slid back in, and Darrian's breath caught as he stared, transfixed by both the sight and the sensation.
"Amazing, no?" the assassin murmured as the steel continued to slowly bob up and down, seemingly of its own accord. From what he remembered, the motion was due to tiny movements of the muscles within, but knowing that didn't make it any less exquisite to watch.
"Y-yes," Darrian stammered, eyes still locked on the strange sight. "It- I-" It seemed to finally become too much for him to bear, and he twisted in his seat, prompting Zevran to quickly reach out and hold the rod in place.
"Would you like to come?" the assassin whispered, grinning as his mere words caused the Warden to pull against the restraints, his head thrown back as he moaned in pure need. Zevran knew it would take next to nothing to bring the younger elf over the edge now, but the rod was an impediment that only he had the power to remove.
"Yes, yes, Zevran, please," Darrian begged, each word a little louder than the previous, as the assassin worked him with quick, deft strokes. Relenting only when he felt the warning twitches along the Warden's shaft, Zevran nimbly moved to the side and said only, "You will want to see this" before he pulled the rod out in one smooth motion.
Something Unfamiliar [5/5]
anonymous
November 24 2010, 03:25:52 UTC
Saying that Darrian came hard was something of an understatement; the thick, white fluid shot out with almost alarming force as he cried out wordlessly, then continued to flow in little spurts for far longer than usual. It was another effect of the rod, and Zevran said as much before leaning in to greedily lap up the seed that dripped down the Warden's still-twitching cock, taking the other elf into his mouth briefly to suck away the sticky fluid. This drew an almost pained sound from Darrian, and realizing that his lover was far too sensitized at the moment, Zevran pulled away and laid a kiss on the inside of the Warden's thigh in apology.
While the younger man panted for breath, Zevran untied the soft ropes that bound him to the chair, wondering if he really had wrung the Warden out. It would put a damper on his plans for the rest of the evening, but it had been worth it, he thought, to see Darrian struggling against the ropes, to hear him begging for release...
As he rose to his feet, he offered his hands to the Warden, who accepted the help and let the Antivan elf pull him up. He was still flushed and slightly breathless, but to Zevran's surprise and delight, his hands went straight for the laces of the assassin's leathers.
"Such a villainous Grey Warden!" Zevran exclaimed in a tone of mock-dismay. "Do you mean to ravish me, ser?"
Darrian leaned in close, his customary shy grin showing a bit of mischief. "I was thinking more devouring than ravishing, actually..."
"Hmm, I suppose I can work with that," the assassin chuckled as he let the other elf push him towards the bed.
-- Tiny extra note: I suppose this is technically plugging and not sounding, but, well. Here is the sort of tool I had in mind, without, perhaps, the tacky bead: http://tinyurl.com/29ko2km
writeanon
anonymous
November 24 2010, 23:22:40 UTC
Thanks kindly! :) There definitely needs to be some more sounding!kink on the meme, even if it's incidental. XD As far as terminology goes, I think they get used pretty interchangeably, but I tend to think of sounding as using a longer implement. :3
Pairing: Zevran/m!Tabris
Kinks: bondage, sounding, toys, orgasm denial?
...And six months later, there was a Second Fill!
Definitely no match the the tasty original fill, but this PWP has been in my head for months because of this prompt and I finally put it to paper. If anyone sees it, posted way back here, here's hoping it amuses. :)
The inn they had chosen for the night was unremarkable, for the most part, but the single chair in their room - a plain wooden affair with sturdy armrests - gave Zevran an opportunity he'd been looking for in the past few days. He'd commissioned something a little unusual from a silversmith recently, and he'd been quite impatient to try it out. Or, more properly, to try it out on Darrian.
A smile came to Zevran's lips as he stood back for a moment and admired his handiwork. It was impossible not to feel the heat of anticipation when taking in the all too tempting sight before him: the other elf now occupied that chair, wrists and ankles bound to the wooden armrests and legs respectively. He was completely naked, which made it easy to appreciate the delicate flush that had spread across his pale skin, as well as other signs - some more subtle than others - of the Warden's state of excitement. The faster-than-usual rise and fall of his chest, the occasional nervous flex of his hands against the ends of the armrests, the tension in his limbs as he waited for Zevran to act... all of these things together presented a most delicious image.
Perhaps the most titillating sight, though, was the black strip of silk tied over the man's eyes. He had no idea what Zevran planned, and had put himself entirely at the assassin's mercy. Knowing that he had complete control over the other elf at the moment was heady in itself, but there were also Darrian's reactions to appreciate; from previous experience, he knew the elven Warden's responses to... interesting stimuli were magnified when he was blindfolded. When one sense was taken away, others were heightened, Zevran knew well, and elves' senses were sharp to begin with. He wanted the Warden to be able to concentrate on the unfamiliar sensations he was about to be introduced to, and this seemed an ideal way to ensure that.
It required a great deal of trust on Darrian's part, however, and although the Warden was always game to try whatever new pleasure Zevran wished to share with him, the Antivan elf stayed alert for any small sign of discomfort - physical or mental - from his lover. It had been more than a year since Darrian's ordeal in Fort Drakon, and while he seemed fine most of the time, every so often there would be a moment of unexpected, unreasoning panic, or a nightmare not fueled by the Darkspawn taint that nevertheless sent him thrashing in his sleep, making it all too clear that scars still remained.
With that in mind, it was amazing that Darrian submitted to this sort of play at all, but he was a strong soul, and as he had once imparted to Zevran, he would not let those who had hurt him win by taking away his ability to enjoy another's touch. They had proceeded cautiously in those first days and weeks after the Wardens had been rescued from the fort, but after the Archdemon was slain and Darrian had recovered from that astonishing battle, his spirit had seemed lighter, freed from the responsibility that had loomed over him for a year. For a while, things were almost normal between them, perhaps even better than before...
Reply
It hadn't been, and other useful gains had been made in that time, but no... he couldn't deny the Warden's right to feel as if he had been abandoned.
Leaving Antiva had seemed to help; perhaps Darrian had feared he had lost Zevran to the Crows after all. Once they had begun to cross the Free Marches, that almost imperceptible layer of ice had started to thaw, and at moments like this, the Warden seemed once again the man who Zevran had known so well, the hard edges he had gained since then softened, at least for a little while.
Moments like this... Zevran walked silently around the other elf, marvelling at the strength of his trust, even after their long separation. The assassin could kill him right now in any number of ways, but Darrian probably didn't even consider that a possibility. That sort of blind faith was exactly why the Crows eschewed "love" as a liability to be purged. But Darrian was not a Crow, and neither was Zevran, anymore...
"Are you ready?" he finally said out loud, causing the Warden to turn his head towards him, listening.
"Since I don't know what to be prepared for... I suppose I'm as ready as I can be," the other elf replied, his light tone not quite masking the nervousness in his voice.
Real fear was undesirable, but nervousness was fine; that was part of the thrill of being blindfolded, after all. Zevran stealthily moved to stand behind the chair, giving his lover no indication of where he was. The elven Warden tilted his head and held quite still for a moment, listening, and Zevran spent a moment admiring the exposed line of his neck before bending down to press his lips softly against the pale skin there.
Darrian didn't bother to suppress his shiver, and the assassin smiled as he felt the other man's pulse quicken. He left a line of kisses along the Warden's shoulder before moving away again and pulling his new toy from his pocket.
It was a slender steel rod, only a little longer than the width of Zevran's hand, but he dared not try something longer on someone new to this practice. Rather than a simple cylinder, the rod was shaped more like a row of elongated beads, a series of gentle flares and tapers, with a ring piercing one end. The silversmith had been more than a little alarmed when Zevran had delicately explained the true purpose of the rod and the ring (the man had assumed it was simply an unusual pendant), but he had done good work, regardless.
And now, the assassin thought, it is my turn for some good work... Without a word of warning, Zevran began to trace whisper-light lines along Darrian's body with the tip of the rod. He started from the tattoo on the Warden's shoulder, a mark he had drawn with his own hands, and moved down his chest, slowly circling each nipple in a tightening spiral. Darrian's back arched at the touch of the warmed metal, but he managed to hold back a vocal reaction, for now.
Zevran chuckled softly at the implied challenge. He'd have the other elf crying out soon enough, he was sure. "Do you know what this is, querido?" he murmured as he traced down Darrian's abdomen.
The question stilled the Warden's slight movements as he likely began to wonder what exactly the thing was and what Zevran intended to do with it. After a moment, he shook his head in negation.
"Mm, as I thought," the assassin said in satisfaction as he traced the tattoo along Darrian's right hip, another mark he'd left on the younger man. "It will be a pleasant surprise, then, yes?"
Reply
"You must tell me if this hurts, and we will stop," he said softly. Before the other elf could do much more than draw an audible breath of startled realization, Zevran began to slowly and carefully slide the rod into the Warden.
"Zevran, wh-what-" Darrian's demand for an explanation broke off with another gasp.
"Have I hurt you?" the assassin asked, unable to hold back a grin. The rapid hardening of the Warden's cock in Zevran's hand proved that this was probably not the case, but he dutifully asked anyway.
"N-no, but..." Aside from involuntary quivers, the younger elf seemed to be trying to hold quite still, perhaps afraid of hurting himself against this unfamiliar toy. Wanting him to relax, Zevran leaned down to distract him with a kiss, sucking lightly on Darrian's lower lip until the other man opened to him. As he slid his tongue between the Warden's parted lips, the assassin teased his lover by using one hand to tug the rod out an inch or so and letting it slide home, the ring on top preventing it from falling in too far. The utterly unfamiliar sensation drew a soft, breathy moan from Darrian, the sound transmuted into a tangible sensation against Zevran's lips as he repeated the motion.
Wanting to draw this out, the Antivan elf broke away from the kiss with some reluctance and moved to stand behind his lover, using one hand to help him brace his weight against the chair. He meant to give Darrian some time to get accustomed to the feeling of the steel inside him, to savor it, before moving on to further pleasures, so he resisted the urge to stroke the heated flesh in his other hand and simply used one finger to hold the rod in place so that it would not slide free. Darrian let out a sound of something like disappointment as Zevran's encircling hand drew away, and the assassin chuckled softly, knowingly, before running his tongue up along the helix of his lover's ear.
"How do you like it?" he asked before nibbling delicately at the Warden's pointed eartip. As he'd expected, this drew a quiet gasp rather than a reply to his question, but the slow flex of the other elf's hips was answer enough. Still, Zevran pressed him to speak, wanting to hear him struggle for words, for air. "Tell me," he murmured into the Warden's ear, using his free hand to slowly thrust the rod in and out.
Darrian's hands tightened on the chair's armrests as he took in a ragged breath. "It's... it's good," he managed to say, the brevity of the comment a sign that he was trying to hold back some less controlled vocalization.
"'Good', my dear Warden?" Zevran echoed with a grin. "That is all?" A series of nips down the edge of Darrian's ear broke the younger elf's resolve and he let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry as he writhed in the chair.
"Maker's Breath," the Warden gasped, "Zev..."
The sound of Darrian's voice, strained and breathless, was as electric to the Antivan elf as any passionate caress, and his leathers were becoming uncomfortably tight. Still, he did not relent, and simply made an inquisitive noise, forcing the Warden to speak further.
"It's... it's..." Zevran couldn't quite tell if the other elf was searching for a word or simply having difficulty speaking coherently. "It's incredible," he finally managed to say, "Zev, please..."
Reply
"Nnno..." The word started as a moan and ended with a soft hitch in the Warden's breathing.
Zevran knew what the other man wanted, but he was toying with him now. "Please... do this a bit more?" Again, he slipped his finger through the ring at the end of the rod and drew it in and out with agonizing slowness. The Warden pushed back against the chair, an almost pained cry escaping his lips. The sensation of the rod stroking him from the inside probably wasn't enough to make him come, but it was clearly pushing him unbearably close.
"Please," the dark-haired elf tried again, the unfeigned entreaty in his voice sending a thrill down the assassin's spine, "touch me."
Zevran took an unhurried moment to drink in the sight of the Warden straining against the ropes, his well-toned body covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. He could drag this out much longer, but perhaps if he gave in now, Darrian would still have the strength for other things later... "So impatient," he chuckled as he moved around to crouch in front of the other elf. The chair was making this a bit awkward, but it had been completely worth it, so far.
Darrian made no reply to the assassin's jibe, but his reaction when Zevran licked away the beads of clear fluid that had leaked from his tip was satisfyingly vocal, if entirely wordless. As Zevran wrapped his hand around the other elf's shaft and moved up and down in gentle strokes, he wondered idly if any of the inn's other patrons could hear them. He didn't particularly care, of course, but the thought of eavesdroppers was an entertaining one.
It didn't take long for the Warden to make a sound of frustration at Zevran's intentionally slow pace; struggling to brace his weight against the chair, he tried to thrust into the assassin's hand, and Zevran was amused, and aroused, enough by this show of desperation that he allowed it. It was rare to see the normally reserved Warden lose control so completely, and Zevran was enjoying the novelty of that as much as anything else.
In a few moments, Darrian was quivering on the verge of release, and Zevran pulled away, leaving the younger elf almost sobbing for breath. Before he could say anything, though, the assassin reached up to tug the blindfold loose. He wanted the Warden to see the rest of this.
Blue eyes blinked in the lantern light and met his own, gaze unfocused and pupils wide with desire. "Wh-what...?" the other elf whispered in confusion.
"Something I'd like you to see," Zevran purred, tugging a little on the rod to direct Darrian's attention downwards. Supporting the Warden with one hand, he let go of the rod, and after a moment of stillness, it began to rise, until nearly half of its length protruded from the tip of the shaft. Then, with no assistance, it slid back in, and Darrian's breath caught as he stared, transfixed by both the sight and the sensation.
"Amazing, no?" the assassin murmured as the steel continued to slowly bob up and down, seemingly of its own accord. From what he remembered, the motion was due to tiny movements of the muscles within, but knowing that didn't make it any less exquisite to watch.
"Y-yes," Darrian stammered, eyes still locked on the strange sight. "It- I-" It seemed to finally become too much for him to bear, and he twisted in his seat, prompting Zevran to quickly reach out and hold the rod in place.
"Would you like to come?" the assassin whispered, grinning as his mere words caused the Warden to pull against the restraints, his head thrown back as he moaned in pure need. Zevran knew it would take next to nothing to bring the younger elf over the edge now, but the rod was an impediment that only he had the power to remove.
"Yes, yes, Zevran, please," Darrian begged, each word a little louder than the previous, as the assassin worked him with quick, deft strokes. Relenting only when he felt the warning twitches along the Warden's shaft, Zevran nimbly moved to the side and said only, "You will want to see this" before he pulled the rod out in one smooth motion.
Reply
While the younger man panted for breath, Zevran untied the soft ropes that bound him to the chair, wondering if he really had wrung the Warden out. It would put a damper on his plans for the rest of the evening, but it had been worth it, he thought, to see Darrian struggling against the ropes, to hear him begging for release...
As he rose to his feet, he offered his hands to the Warden, who accepted the help and let the Antivan elf pull him up. He was still flushed and slightly breathless, but to Zevran's surprise and delight, his hands went straight for the laces of the assassin's leathers.
"Such a villainous Grey Warden!" Zevran exclaimed in a tone of mock-dismay. "Do you mean to ravish me, ser?"
Darrian leaned in close, his customary shy grin showing a bit of mischief. "I was thinking more devouring than ravishing, actually..."
"Hmm, I suppose I can work with that," the assassin chuckled as he let the other elf push him towards the bed.
--
Tiny extra note: I suppose this is technically plugging and not sounding, but, well. Here is the sort of tool I had in mind, without, perhaps, the tacky bead: http://tinyurl.com/29ko2km
Reply
BTW, what's the difference between sounding and plugging? They seem pretty similar to my inexperienced mind...
I suppose I could look it up but maybe I should do a prompt that requests both? :3
Reply
These two aren't my usual kmeme pairing, and there's only one other fill with the two of them from much earlier in the storyline:
http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/328.html?thread=1066824#t1066824
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment