I can get into this [5]
title: I Can Get Into This [5]
author: FxTxAot3/Tronja307020 in Tron Tinychat
pairing: Alan/Tron
rating: M/NC17
disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish I did, I just like playing with them.
plot: When Alan learns of Tron's submissive nature, he has to find a way to make a happy medium between their two needs.
author's note: Written for the Tron Kink Meme, over at http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3950.h
tml?thread=2036590#t2036590 I don't know if it's BDSM enough for the prompt, but it was what popped into my head. So yay. :D
Tron complied wordlessly, removing his disk and letting his clothing derezz as opposed to pulling the complicated garment off physically. That took too much time, and he wanted to comply with his User's wishes quickly. Alan watched him climb onto the bed and settle under the hook, facing him and resting on his heels as he waited patiently for the next step. Already, the complex, bright circuits covering his body were beginning to glow and pulse more brightly, the white taking on the beginnings of a bluish hue that he knew would soon be melting into pure violet. The instinctual, unconscious expression of emotion through color that Programs had was infinitely amazing for him. While the Users didn't have the ability themselves to emote through the false circuits on their clothes, he was learning to recognize this deeper level of “body language” the longer he spent on the Grid. It was probably a bit egotistical to think that Tron gave him a wonderful subject to study from. He didn't care.
He made his way to the bed, lifting the blindfold and placing it over his lover's face, tying it behind his head and checking to make sure that he hadn't gotten his hair caught in the knot. Tron gave a soft sound, little more then a sigh but telling in the eagerness he felt, and Alan chuckled softly as he cupped his cheeks in his palms, leaned in to kiss his lips before he pulled away. It brought a subtle bleed of purple into the circuits on his throat for an instant, and he was sure if he'd been able to see the glowing lines on his back, he would have seen the shift continue down his spine, rippling and rolling in waves before fading out with his absence.
“Give me your hands, Program.”
Tron's arms were out instantly, holding them out as told and eagerly awaiting what he must have known was next. The sound of the metal links connecting the cuffs brought a smile to his face even before they were on, and Alan couldn't help but return the smirk with one of his own whether Tron could see it or not. He wrapped the cuffs around his wrists, tightening the straps and buckles so that he wouldn't be able to slip his hands free, though he knew he wouldn't try, and Tron gave a soft, surprised hiss as the soft furr on the inside of the cuffs brushed ghostingly over the circuits on the back of his hands, purple traveling down to the tips of his two fingers and thumb as he flexed his hands against the unexpected touch.
“Is it too tight?'
“No, User, I like it. It feels good.” Alan leaned in and kissed him again, holding his bound wrists and rubbing his thumbs against the skin above them, and Tron twisted his hands against the bonds, lifting the backs to brush gently against the underside of his User's wrists in a loving caress. The sensation of those exposed circuits brushing and tingling against the sensitive skin like static electricity made Alan moan softly into the kiss, and when he pulled away, Tron had a pleased look on his face.
When he pulled away, Alan lifted his hands and hooked the chain on the cuffs around the hook over their heads and stepped back, letting Tron adjust to the position. Still, the hook was lower then it should be to allow him to lift his arms over it without having to make him strain himself to reach. Alan reactivated the interface on the wall, adjusting the height of it, pulling it higher and stretching Tron's arms out above his head until he was unable to pull them off while still sitting on his knees. Being forced into to compromising position excited him, a soft gasp coming from his lips as every circuit on his body throbbed with deep violet before settling into a cooler shade again, the blue tinged with the faintest purple on the edges. He shifted against the bonds, testing the angle and the height of them and tugging gently before he settled back down with a shuddering breath, turning his head to listen for his User.
“I want to play a game with you, Tron. It should be easy enough. I want you to see how long you can go without making a sound.” Alan began slipping out of his own clothes, dropping them into the nearby chair as he spoke. The instant the instruction was given, he saw a determined look cross his Program's face and knew that already he was setting himself for the task. “I know you can do it, Tron. But...if you don't like what I'm doing, feel free to say so. I'll stop.”
“Don't worry, User. I trust you. I won't let you down.” He laughed softly at the seriousness with which he replied, stepping back to the bed and climbing up onto the bed in front of him, facing him on his knees in much the same position Tron was in and holding the feather in his hand, hovering it close over the t-squares just under Tron's throat.
“I know you won't, Tron. You never do. Start now.”
He punctuated the order by dragging the tip of the feather over the circuits beneath them, and Tron tensed, his mouth falling open as he gasped and arched up against the delicate touch, a shocked look crossing his face. Alan would allow the gasp. The hiss of breath was an allowable grey area in this game. He rewarded it by rubbing the soft, blue fluff down farther, over the circuits lower, the clusters of lines and circles and squares that patterned his abdomen. Tron twisted at the sensations, confusion written on his face as he seemed to try and determine just what was causing the delightful feeling. It was obviously not his User's hands, far too soft and light, and he had not yet seemed to connect them with the third object Alan had brought with him in the box.
author: FxTxAot3/Tronja307020 in Tron Tinychat
pairing: Alan/Tron
rating: M/NC17
disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish I did, I just like playing with them.
plot: When Alan learns of Tron's submissive nature, he has to find a way to make a happy medium between their two needs.
author's note: Written for the Tron Kink Meme, over at http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3950.h
tml?thread=2036590#t2036590 I don't know if it's BDSM enough for the prompt, but it was what popped into my head. So yay. :D
Tron complied wordlessly, removing his disk and letting his clothing derezz as opposed to pulling the complicated garment off physically. That took too much time, and he wanted to comply with his User's wishes quickly. Alan watched him climb onto the bed and settle under the hook, facing him and resting on his heels as he waited patiently for the next step. Already, the complex, bright circuits covering his body were beginning to glow and pulse more brightly, the white taking on the beginnings of a bluish hue that he knew would soon be melting into pure violet. The instinctual, unconscious expression of emotion through color that Programs had was infinitely amazing for him. While the Users didn't have the ability themselves to emote through the false circuits on their clothes, he was learning to recognize this deeper level of “body language” the longer he spent on the Grid. It was probably a bit egotistical to think that Tron gave him a wonderful subject to study from. He didn't care.
He made his way to the bed, lifting the blindfold and placing it over his lover's face, tying it behind his head and checking to make sure that he hadn't gotten his hair caught in the knot. Tron gave a soft sound, little more then a sigh but telling in the eagerness he felt, and Alan chuckled softly as he cupped his cheeks in his palms, leaned in to kiss his lips before he pulled away. It brought a subtle bleed of purple into the circuits on his throat for an instant, and he was sure if he'd been able to see the glowing lines on his back, he would have seen the shift continue down his spine, rippling and rolling in waves before fading out with his absence.
“Give me your hands, Program.”
Tron's arms were out instantly, holding them out as told and eagerly awaiting what he must have known was next. The sound of the metal links connecting the cuffs brought a smile to his face even before they were on, and Alan couldn't help but return the smirk with one of his own whether Tron could see it or not. He wrapped the cuffs around his wrists, tightening the straps and buckles so that he wouldn't be able to slip his hands free, though he knew he wouldn't try, and Tron gave a soft, surprised hiss as the soft furr on the inside of the cuffs brushed ghostingly over the circuits on the back of his hands, purple traveling down to the tips of his two fingers and thumb as he flexed his hands against the unexpected touch.
“Is it too tight?'
“No, User, I like it. It feels good.” Alan leaned in and kissed him again, holding his bound wrists and rubbing his thumbs against the skin above them, and Tron twisted his hands against the bonds, lifting the backs to brush gently against the underside of his User's wrists in a loving caress. The sensation of those exposed circuits brushing and tingling against the sensitive skin like static electricity made Alan moan softly into the kiss, and when he pulled away, Tron had a pleased look on his face.
When he pulled away, Alan lifted his hands and hooked the chain on the cuffs around the hook over their heads and stepped back, letting Tron adjust to the position. Still, the hook was lower then it should be to allow him to lift his arms over it without having to make him strain himself to reach. Alan reactivated the interface on the wall, adjusting the height of it, pulling it higher and stretching Tron's arms out above his head until he was unable to pull them off while still sitting on his knees. Being forced into to compromising position excited him, a soft gasp coming from his lips as every circuit on his body throbbed with deep violet before settling into a cooler shade again, the blue tinged with the faintest purple on the edges. He shifted against the bonds, testing the angle and the height of them and tugging gently before he settled back down with a shuddering breath, turning his head to listen for his User.
“I want to play a game with you, Tron. It should be easy enough. I want you to see how long you can go without making a sound.” Alan began slipping out of his own clothes, dropping them into the nearby chair as he spoke. The instant the instruction was given, he saw a determined look cross his Program's face and knew that already he was setting himself for the task. “I know you can do it, Tron. But...if you don't like what I'm doing, feel free to say so. I'll stop.”
“Don't worry, User. I trust you. I won't let you down.” He laughed softly at the seriousness with which he replied, stepping back to the bed and climbing up onto the bed in front of him, facing him on his knees in much the same position Tron was in and holding the feather in his hand, hovering it close over the t-squares just under Tron's throat.
“I know you won't, Tron. You never do. Start now.”
He punctuated the order by dragging the tip of the feather over the circuits beneath them, and Tron tensed, his mouth falling open as he gasped and arched up against the delicate touch, a shocked look crossing his face. Alan would allow the gasp. The hiss of breath was an allowable grey area in this game. He rewarded it by rubbing the soft, blue fluff down farther, over the circuits lower, the clusters of lines and circles and squares that patterned his abdomen. Tron twisted at the sensations, confusion written on his face as he seemed to try and determine just what was causing the delightful feeling. It was obviously not his User's hands, far too soft and light, and he had not yet seemed to connect them with the third object Alan had brought with him in the box.