Dragon Age II, Part 1: Closed for Prompts, Open for Fills
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It was wonderful, really, the startlement, and then the quick look down at the bottle, and then wide eyes moving to Danarius, who merely met his eyes with an encouraging and mocking smile.
The little wolf realized what he was being asked to do, and Danarius could have crowed his pleasure when blood flooded his new purchase's face. He'd never been asked to do anything of the sort, before, then. Not surprising. Danarius's peers were so very elementary. The lad's previous owners had likely never experimented with how humiliating it could be for a slave to enjoy what he did, and what was done to him. Their pleasures were so simple, and their methods reflected that.
Danarius liked to think of himself as an artist.
Haltingly, the boy opened the bottle and poured oil into his hands. Slowly, with his gaze steadfastly avoiding Danarius's, and his lips set in a thin line, and his shoulders back with a sort of forced pride, the boy slid one wet hand between his legs and, as Danarius watched with parted lips and pulsing cock, slid one of his oil-slicked fingers into his own opening. A small rush of air came out from between the boy's lips and his body shuddered. Danarius smiled languidly.
He watched, licking his lips unconciously, as the boy slid the finger in and out of his own little hole, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. In time, a second finger joined the first. In all that time, the boy refused to look at his master, refused to meet his eyes.
That wouldn't do.
"Look at me," Danarius commanded. The boy flinched, and for a moment, flagrantly disobeyed, shoulders hunched, head down, fingers pumping in his own hole. But he knew what every slave had been taught from birth: never, ever force your master to make the same request twice, and so he forced himself to look at Danarius and hold his gaze.
There was a heavy flush over the boy's face, now, and his eyes were part uncertainty, part hatred, and part ... something else, something that was reflected in the way the boy's cock was no longer quite soft. It was wonderfully clear how difficult it was for the boy to continue meeting his master's eyes, but despite how clearly he wanted to, he didn't look away.
"You'll need more than that up there, boy," Danarius said amiably, and was rewarded with a flash of outrage in those moss-green eyes. He laughed. He meant it to be cheerful, but it was wild in his own ears. Ah, he wanted to fuck him so hard, so badly. Patience was becoming very difficult. "I only say it to help you, fenris. Those slender little elven fingers aren't much in the face of what you'll be feeling there soon."
"I follow your commands, master," the lad spat, and added another finger, which caused his breath to hitch.
"Do you?" Danarius sat up slightly on a whim. This hadn't been in the original plan, not yet, but the sight before him was too amazing, and the colour high in the boy's cheeks too tantalizing. He needed more. "Then stroke yourself with your other hand."
The boy froze and Danarius chuckled gleefully. His cock was somewhere halfway between soft and erect, and just that much was probably the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. Being asked to do more, to acknowledge that, despite himself, his body reacted positively to stimulus he hated ... "I am ..." his voice dripped with breathless shame. "I am ... not trained to ..."
"You are trained, fenris, to give pleasure ... and to follow commands. This applies to both of those things, does it not?"
"I ..."
"I gave you a command, slave. Obey your master."
And he did.
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"I think that's good enough," he said, voice hoarse. "Turn over."
As in all things, the boy obeyed.
Danarius only took two seconds to open the bottle and spread oil on his own cock before positioning it at the boy's gaping asshole and then sliding it home. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth. Nothing was as tight as a young elf. Even prepared as it was, the hole felt slightly too small for him, and it was a wonderful struggle to move in and out. The friction was amazing after the long minutes of nothing. He pressed at hand between the boy's shoulderblades, forcing his upper body down against the bed, and he fucked him as hard as he could.
That wasn't all he did. While he was too wrapped in his own pleasure to bother making that satisfying for the boy, he did take the time to reach under the boy's body, grab his smaller cock, and begin stroking it with a grip tighter and more insistant than that which the boy had used on himself. The lad moaned roughly into the bed, half pleasure and half protest. "You've never had it like this, have you, fenris?" Danarius asked. "How does it feel to know that a man with the power to buy you at market, who has the power to tell you to do anything, also controls your pleasure?"
"Stop," the boy commanded. Commanded. Danarius laughed, quickening the pace of both his hips and his hand. The boy's ass gripped his cock tightly. Maker, he was amazing. "Stop," the boy repeated moments later, but this time, it was a plea.
Danarius groaned, feeling pressure building in his loins. The boy made a sound that was half plea and half insult, half sob and half growl, and then he swore loudly. "Watch that filthy mouth, fenris," Danarius accused him mildly. As mildly as he could, considering the desperate pleasure and need for release that was building in him.
"Master, please, no," the little wolf cried, and then his cock exploded wetly into Danarius's hand, not a moment too soon, for his master could wait no longer. He let himself go, spilling squirt after squirt of hot seed deep into his slave's body, claiming him forever. His vision erupted into colours, and then he fell into the bed, taking only a moment to disentangle himself from the boy before letting himself fall into an exhausted afterglow.
A bit later, when his afterglow faded, he looked over at the little wolf, whose head was turned roughly to one side, every muscle showing tension and determination. Danarius chuckled, reaching out a hand to run it down the flat planes of his slave's wiry chest. "You are everything I have ever wanted, my Fenris," he said contentedly. "And I have claimed you as no other master ever has."
The boy said nothing, but the increase in tension in his shoulders was everything Danarius needed to see.
"You're well trained, but that isn't what makes you so ... perfect," he mused aloud. "It's how you want so badly to fight that training. It shows in everything you do."
He pressed his lips against the boy's shoulder. The boy continued to hold his silence.
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Something snapped. The lad whirled in bed to face his master, eyes flashing, jaw set. "My name," he barked, "is Le --"
Danarius silenced him with a kiss.
The lad fought him, fought him with fists and teeth, for exactly one second. And then the training settled in, and he realized how pointless it was, and he kissed Danarius back. He was a slave, after all, and he did what a slave was supposed to do: what his master wanted.
Danarius smiled when he pulled away. "Your name is whatever I tell you it is," he said, and was pleased to see in the boy's eyes, not defeat, but momentary and reluctant surrender. The fight wouldn't be chased out of this one. Not easily. Not ever.
Perfect.
"Ah, Fenris," he said happily. "Something tells me you're going to be at my side for many, many years."
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This is now canon in my mind.
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Well done, autheranon. It was kinda... horrifyingly wonderful, if you know what I mean?
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Loved this, by the way, OP. Looooove ♥
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Thank you A!A :-)
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Am I the only one wondering if Fenris has got lyrium markings on his cock too? Perhaps this writer!anon has considered it as well...? Heh.
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