Re: Pride goeth before destruction [2/?]
anonymous
May 4 2009, 09:00:36 UTC
He wanted to snort as a gloved hand ran through his hair. Flaxen hair? What kind of bad romantic novel would ever describe his sandy hair as flaxen? Even in such an embarrassing situation, restrained and naked for crowds of strangers to view him like a piece of meat, he could not repress a bitter smirk.
“Eyes like emeralds!” the man continued, jerking Arthur’s face up without a touch of gentleness. “Even if you aren’t interested in the rest, we are willing to extract the eyes for you at only a small extra charge.”
The two captors pulled him back into a sitting position while hands pried his legs open. He tried to protest but his throat was too sore to speak. He squirmed to no avail; they were holding tight. A glove was snapped off. Cold fingers probed his asshole.
“I can assure his virginity, ladies and gents! Perfectly healthy, doesn’t eat much as you can tell, can read and write of course. No matter what you’re looking for, you can find it in this young man.” The hand wrapped itself around his cock. Arthur almost jumped as it slowly began pumping him.
“N - No,” he chocked but even a single syllable seared his throat.
The hand began to move faster, almost urgently and, as much as he loathed it, he knew that he was growing hard. Spurned on, the naked hand continued to stroke and play with him in front of the audience, who leaned forward for a better view. Arthur squirmed, trying to use his legs to cover his embarrassment but the moment he managed to bring his thighs together, they were pulled apart again.
His back arched as he came, ripping a painful cry from his throat. He almost fell back but for the two men supporting him. Around the audience, he was vaguely aware of their animated murmurs.
“Look at that!” the boss announced proudly, as if his pet had performed an amazing trick. “You can’t accuse me of selling impotent goods! He’d make a fine sex slave if you wish. Bidding will be in pounds. Shall we open the floor?”
Arthur only half listened to the cries that rang through the hall - he hardly cared if he went for a penny or a pound - his heart was beating too loudly to really pay attention to the bidding. He was a noble, from a proud family with a long history of greatness, just when did they turn to selling their own kin? Just when did their greatness fall?
When the bidding finally ceased - he had no idea how long it took, his concept of time was rather inhibited - he could only think of their old estate and the manor houses they had once owned across the country, each one sold as he grew up.
Curtains descended, thankfully blocking his from the view of those intrusive eyes. Hard footsteps tapped across the stage. The boss knelt down, smiling.
“You did well, pet,” he cooed, though his words slid off of Arthur’s skin like slime. The same hand that had serviced him now cupped his chin, smearing his own cum across his face. “And now,” the man whispered, “here’s your reward.”
Before he could protest, the neck of a wine bottle was rammed down his throat, but it certainly was not wine that forced its way into him. The world began to swim. When the two giants released him, he fell to the floor with a dull thud.
XX
Sorry for lack of historical referrence, though anon does have in mind sometime in the beginning of the Edwardian period, except historical inconsistancy
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [2/?]
anonymous
May 5 2009, 00:46:05 UTC
GAH. This is so awesome.
And this anon doesn't mind the lack of hist. references at all. :3 She actually thinks it would be a little hard to picture it if it was 'historically accurate', and finds this just, just...disturbingly and sinfully delicious good.
Oh my !"#$#$$% God!!!! Such a great beginning!!! it's amazing, Awesome as would say Prussia or America!!!!!! I love you writer!anon with the force of thousands suns and one more!!! I love the way in which you can perceive Arthur's character throughout the whole ordeal!! I'm just so glad right now!!!
And there's nothing to forgive writer!anon!! you're doing an incredible job, and such things are not that necessary to be honest :P, but I truly appreciate your concern with the context, you are making me feel really happy with such a small detail!!!! Please keep going writer!anon!! From anywhere with love... OP
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [3/?]
anonymous
May 5 2009, 09:02:50 UTC
White. Soft. Fluffy. Like floating on clouds. He paused for a moment and thought; warm.
Arthur’s eyes snapped open.
“What the hell?!” he screamed sitting bolt upright, white sheets thrown aside and billowing in the air before drifting like feathers back over his lap.
“Now that’s a fine way to greet a beautiful day,” an amused voice brimmed with laughter. It had a slight tilt to it. The ‘a’ sounds were mispronounced.
Arthur looked up, shocked. Wherever he was now, it was definitely not the old cages where that loan shark and his two giant cronies used to keep all their slaves.
He was in a spacious room, richly furnished with an old armoire - oak most likely - on one end and a tall bookshelf spanning the entire opposite wall. The window was left open for the sunlight to freely enter, the accompanying wind making satin drapes timidly flutter over the side of a small vase sitting in the cabinet besides him. Arthur touched the white sheets on his lap and realised that they were cotton - the good kind which would be ruined if washed too roughly.
The contrast between the spacious, clean room and his previous, neglected cage was such a surprise that at first he was too dazzled to notice the man sitting on a chair besides the bed until he cleared his thought.
Arthur almost jumped. “ Ehhh? W - Who are you? Where am I?”
The man smiled, pleased that he had finally been noticed. The man was tall and, from the looks of his attire, probably rich. Arthur remembered that pig had described his hair as flaxen, this man’s hair, on the other hand, seemed more like gold. His eyes were a little too blue for Arthur’s liking, a little too bright. It gave him the deepest misgivings.
However, the man smiled warmly. “You can call me Alfred and this,” he swept a hand across the room, “is my manor house.”
Unwittingly, Arthur shuffled back. “Why am I in your manor house? I’ve never met you before,” he asked suspiciously.
“Ah,” Alfred gave him a knowing look. Arthur scowled. That accent...he could not quite put his finger on it, but it sounded strange to his ears, not exactly grating but it was not normal either.
Alfred noticed his frown and winked. “Well, you see, from today on I’m your master.”
It took all of three seconds for that statement to sink in.
“Wh - What?!”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Arthur spluttered. How could this man be so infuriatingly calm? How could he smile in such a friendly manner and still say such things so casually? “No it isn’t bloody nice to meet me!” he practically screeched. “You’re my master? What kind of sick joke is that? I - I’m going home!”
Alfred stood up to stop him but Arthur had already thrown the sheets aside and was ready to storm out of the room.
Except...
“...Where are my clothes?”
Alfred had to bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at Arthur’s sulky expression “They were filthy so I threw them out.”
“Give me some clothes and let me go!” he cried, pulling the covers up to his neck.
Alfred shook his head. “Are you really in a position to make demands? You’re forgetting that I bough you, paid quite a pretty penny for you too so, technically, I own you, right?”
Arthur blushed to his roots. This was a disgrace! He was a noble and yet here he was in some stranger’s house being taunted like a child! “Y - You git!” he shouted. Then it hit him. “That accent! You’re American, aren’t you?” he scowled.
“You can tell?” Alfred’s eyes sparkled with delight. “I suppose the accent is a pretty big give away but I just can’t pronounce things in...” he screwed up his face, “the Queen’s English,” he said, trying to mimic an English accent and failing miserably.
A pillow found itself kissing the face of Alfred Jones, sliding off in ecstasy onto the floor with a small whump sound. For Alfred however, it had vaguely hurt. It had been thrown rather viciously.
“I despise Americans!” Arthur retorted, his face red with anger.“You filthy money-grubbers come into the country and just buy up land because you’re rich! You even have the cheek to make up fake coats of arms and pretend to be noblemen even though you’ve no history!”
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you,” Alfred grinned, though there was a distinct lack of humour in his eyes.
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [3/?]
anonymous
May 5 2009, 13:46:08 UTC
I was a bit hesitant at first because I wasn't sure how Arthur would fit the role of a slave...
... But this. This. Is brilliant, anon. They're both so wickedly IC I'm grinning like a dork over here.
And how do you come up with sentences like, "A pillow found itself kissing the face of Alfred Jones, sliding off in ecstasy onto the floor with a small whump sound." Honestly. ♥
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [3/?]
anonymous
May 5 2009, 17:23:06 UTC
This anon is so completely in love with your writing!<33 And the way you write both Alfred and Arthur, really. They're so in character it's actually rather EASY to picture the scenes, when this anon believes it would be pretty, um...awkward, let's say, to imagine Arthur in that kind of role.
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [4/?]
anonymous
May 6 2009, 19:46:08 UTC
Arthur was a little perturbed by this but, nevertheless, he continued to rant on. “It takes three generations to make a gentleman!” - He remembered his father telling him that - “Don’t get arrogant just because you have a nice house and money! I should - ”
His tirade was promptly cut off when Alfred practically jumped him, pinning him down against the soft bed. “Say the same thing to you,” he breathed, finishing his sentence for him. His face was too close, far too close. Arthur thought he could see all the way to the bottom of those eyes.
Alfred closed the distance, their noses almost touching, his voice was deadly serious and his eyes darkened as he drew closer. The smell of his cologne was smothering. “I don’t think you should talk so arrogantly either, pauper.”
“P - Pauper?!” Arthur threw him off of him. He blushed with indignation. He had no idea just how anyone could be so - so infuriating! “I’ll have you know that I’m - ”
“Arthur Kirkland, from the Kirkland family, I know,” Alfred sat upright on the edge of the bed, his humour had returned to him in an instant, leaving Arthur vaguely confused. “Pure white skin that’s never known a day of hard labour, flaxen hair and...what was it that man said?” he mockingly recited the words at the auction. “Oh yes, eyes like emeralds.”
“Surely you weren’t swindled by that pig’s lies!” Arthur snorted.
Alfred leaned over, cupping Arthur’s chin. “I don’t know, I think you’re pretty impressive up close.”
He batted his hand away. It brought back memories or that slave dealing pig and made him scowl at the indignity of it. “Don’t touch me, you git! Let me go!”
“Go where?” Alfred asked. “Your family sold you to pay their debts, didn’t they? I doubt they’d welcome you back with open arms and I did pay for you after all. I expect to get my money’s worth.”
Arthur opened his mouth to reply but he was not really sure what to reply with. For most part, he simply stuttered rather embarrassingly, trying to think of something rather crippling to say.
“Master Jones! You have a guest!” a female voice from below cried.
“Bring him to the drawing room and tell him to wait! I’ll be down soon,” Alfred turned his head toward the door and Arthur used this opportunity to push him away.
“It’s impolite to keep your guests waiting. You really don’t know anything about common courtesy,” he retorted.
Alfred’s attention returned to pinning his new slave against the bed. “You’re a virgin. That wasn’t a lie, was it?” he asked shamelessly. Such ill-mannered bluntness made Arthur’s cheeks burn.
“Y - You think I’m some farm girl who would lift up her skirts for just anyone?” he spat
Alfred simply laughed at his comparison, pushing his weight down to keep him from struggling. “That’s good to hear,” he grinned, leaning forward.
XX
Anon is working toward the submissive kink and the bonus kink. Sorry it's taking so long to get there!
It take three generations to make a gentleman is actually an American saying (I believe) Arthur, you hypocrite
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [4/?]
anonymous
May 7 2009, 01:35:49 UTC
F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5 -SPASM OH GOD ;AAA;-
P-PLEASE UPDATE SOON. <3 This is. this is so amazingly hot. -is the person who prayed you'd give it a go and is immensely happy you did- I really love how you portray aristocrat!Alfie. <3 Then again, I love when he's acting horny with Arthur. idk. it's hot. -shot-
... I feel horrible for hoping the sex scene will be very, very soon. oh my. ;A; US/UK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME.
Re: Pride goeth before destruction [5/?]
anonymous
May 8 2009, 07:33:05 UTC
Arthur thought that if his cheeks grew any redder he would surely burst a blood vessel. “Shut up, git! Ponce! Wanker!”
Alfred’s grin widened. He was definitely too close for comfort, their noses almost touching and their breath caressing the bottom of each other’s lips. Arthur found himself forced to stare into those unnervingly blue eyes. He knew he would hate those eyes.
“What a foul mouth for a noble! Is insulting your bed partner also common courtesy?”
“B - Bed partner?!” Arthur spluttered but to flail around would probably cause them to bump heads or, worse, bump lips, so he did his best to keep himself under control. He just wished that Alfred would shift the weight off of his lower region too. It was crushing and causing unnecessary shiver to run down his spine.
“Well, that’s what I am. Since I’ll be taking that valuable virginity of yours,” Alfred whispered, pulling the merciful sheets which had covered Arthur’s body out of the way.
Magic. This man must be a warlock or a sorcerer, Arthur reckoned because, as much as he dearly wanted to at the moment, he found himself incapable of moving. Even as Alfred’s mouth descended upon his own, he felt frozen. His limbs had gone all funny. What was this?
He almost gagged when he felt a tongue slip into his mouth. No, he only wanted one tongue in his mouth thank-you-very-much - His own. However, Alfred hushed him and ran a comforting hand through his hair, calming him.
Certain that there would be no more gagging, Alfred’s tongue continued to probe his mouth. Arthur moaned and sunk deeper against the mattress, feeling a hardness poking into his thigh. He was shocked, partly scandalised that he felt disappointment when Alfred’s mouth left his own but he soon discovered that Alfred had other plans. The man traced kisses down his neck, sucking hard at the crook of his neck before going lower, kissing all the way down to his nipple.
“Ah...God!” Arthur gasped, clenching fistfuls of sheet to dig his nails in.
This was so...lewd. He was Arthur Kirkland, who was he to be seduced by some fake aristocrat? His back arched with pleasure as a large hand cupped him. He - he definitely should not be swindled like this - he gasped - but those obscene sounds as Alfred sucked his nipple were pushing out all coherent thought.
“You’re so excitable!” he heard Alfred murmur with a hint of admiration.
“Sh - Shut up!”
“Bonjour, mon cher!”
Both leapt apart as though the force of a wall had been thrown between them. The door burst open.
“...Francis!” Alfred groaned, clambering off of the bed. He looked thoroughly pissed off.
The man was dressed in the fanciest clothes Arthur had ever seen. He was used to men in coat tails and dress suits but this man was something else entirely.
“Alfred, don’t you know it is quite rude to keep your guests waiting with not a flower in sight to pass the time?” He spoke with a thick accent, drawing out his r’s as he smiled lazily, as beguiling as a Cheshire cat.
Arthur immediately scowled at him, his gaze switching between the two. A healthy well of shame rose through him. Now that his mind was clear had he really been about to do it with that obscene, bad-mannered American?
“Great. An American and a Frenchman, my two favourite kinds of people,” he muttered.
The man - Francis - surveyed him a little too eagerly for his liking. “Ah, I see you’ve been keeping the flowers to yourself.”
anon is so, so sorry for stopping there and also hopes no one minds the inclusion of Francis. I sort of need him for the poker thing
“Eyes like emeralds!” the man continued, jerking Arthur’s face up without a touch of gentleness. “Even if you aren’t interested in the rest, we are willing to extract the eyes for you at only a small extra charge.”
The two captors pulled him back into a sitting position while hands pried his legs open. He tried to protest but his throat was too sore to speak. He squirmed to no avail; they were holding tight. A glove was snapped off. Cold fingers probed his asshole.
“I can assure his virginity, ladies and gents! Perfectly healthy, doesn’t eat much as you can tell, can read and write of course. No matter what you’re looking for, you can find it in this young man.” The hand wrapped itself around his cock. Arthur almost jumped as it slowly began pumping him.
“N - No,” he chocked but even a single syllable seared his throat.
The hand began to move faster, almost urgently and, as much as he loathed it, he knew that he was growing hard. Spurned on, the naked hand continued to stroke and play with him in front of the audience, who leaned forward for a better view. Arthur squirmed, trying to use his legs to cover his embarrassment but the moment he managed to bring his thighs together, they were pulled apart again.
His back arched as he came, ripping a painful cry from his throat. He almost fell back but for the two men supporting him. Around the audience, he was vaguely aware of their animated murmurs.
“Look at that!” the boss announced proudly, as if his pet had performed an amazing trick. “You can’t accuse me of selling impotent goods! He’d make a fine sex slave if you wish. Bidding will be in pounds. Shall we open the floor?”
Arthur only half listened to the cries that rang through the hall - he hardly cared if he went for a penny or a pound - his heart was beating too loudly to really pay attention to the bidding. He was a noble, from a proud family with a long history of greatness, just when did they turn to selling their own kin? Just when did their greatness fall?
When the bidding finally ceased - he had no idea how long it took, his concept of time was rather inhibited - he could only think of their old estate and the manor houses they had once owned across the country, each one sold as he grew up.
Curtains descended, thankfully blocking his from the view of those intrusive eyes. Hard footsteps tapped across the stage. The boss knelt down, smiling.
“You did well, pet,” he cooed, though his words slid off of Arthur’s skin like slime. The same hand that had serviced him now cupped his chin, smearing his own cum across his face. “And now,” the man whispered, “here’s your reward.”
Before he could protest, the neck of a wine bottle was rammed down his throat, but it certainly was not wine that forced its way into him. The world began to swim. When the two giants released him, he fell to the floor with a dull thud.
XX
Sorry for lack of historical referrence, though anon does have in mind sometime in the beginning of the Edwardian period, except historical inconsistancy
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And this anon doesn't mind the lack of hist. references at all. :3 She actually thinks it would be a little hard to picture it if it was 'historically accurate', and finds this just, just...disturbingly and sinfully delicious good.
/brb f5ing forever
Reply
I love you writer!anon with the force of thousands suns and one more!!! I love the way in which you can perceive Arthur's character throughout the whole ordeal!! I'm just so glad right now!!!
And there's nothing to forgive writer!anon!! you're doing an incredible job, and such things are not that necessary to be honest :P, but I truly appreciate your concern with the context, you are making me feel really happy with such a small detail!!!!
Please keep going writer!anon!!
From anywhere with love...
OP
Reply
Arthur’s eyes snapped open.
“What the hell?!” he screamed sitting bolt upright, white sheets thrown aside and billowing in the air before drifting like feathers back over his lap.
“Now that’s a fine way to greet a beautiful day,” an amused voice brimmed with laughter. It had a slight tilt to it. The ‘a’ sounds were mispronounced.
Arthur looked up, shocked. Wherever he was now, it was definitely not the old cages where that loan shark and his two giant cronies used to keep all their slaves.
He was in a spacious room, richly furnished with an old armoire - oak most likely - on one end and a tall bookshelf spanning the entire opposite wall. The window was left open for the sunlight to freely enter, the accompanying wind making satin drapes timidly flutter over the side of a small vase sitting in the cabinet besides him. Arthur touched the white sheets on his lap and realised that they were cotton - the good kind which would be ruined if washed too roughly.
The contrast between the spacious, clean room and his previous, neglected cage was such a surprise that at first he was too dazzled to notice the man sitting on a chair besides the bed until he cleared his thought.
Arthur almost jumped. “ Ehhh? W - Who are you? Where am I?”
The man smiled, pleased that he had finally been noticed. The man was tall and, from the looks of his attire, probably rich. Arthur remembered that pig had described his hair as flaxen, this man’s hair, on the other hand, seemed more like gold. His eyes were a little too blue for Arthur’s liking, a little too bright. It gave him the deepest misgivings.
However, the man smiled warmly. “You can call me Alfred and this,” he swept a hand across the room, “is my manor house.”
Unwittingly, Arthur shuffled back. “Why am I in your manor house? I’ve never met you before,” he asked suspiciously.
“Ah,” Alfred gave him a knowing look. Arthur scowled. That accent...he could not quite put his finger on it, but it sounded strange to his ears, not exactly grating but it was not normal either.
Alfred noticed his frown and winked. “Well, you see, from today on I’m your master.”
It took all of three seconds for that statement to sink in.
“Wh - What?!”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Arthur spluttered. How could this man be so infuriatingly calm? How could he smile in such a friendly manner and still say such things so casually? “No it isn’t bloody nice to meet me!” he practically screeched. “You’re my master? What kind of sick joke is that? I - I’m going home!”
Alfred stood up to stop him but Arthur had already thrown the sheets aside and was ready to storm out of the room.
Except...
“...Where are my clothes?”
Alfred had to bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at Arthur’s sulky expression “They were filthy so I threw them out.”
“Give me some clothes and let me go!” he cried, pulling the covers up to his neck.
Alfred shook his head. “Are you really in a position to make demands? You’re forgetting that I bough you, paid quite a pretty penny for you too so, technically, I own you, right?”
Arthur blushed to his roots. This was a disgrace! He was a noble and yet here he was in some stranger’s house being taunted like a child! “Y - You git!” he shouted. Then it hit him. “That accent! You’re American, aren’t you?” he scowled.
“You can tell?” Alfred’s eyes sparkled with delight. “I suppose the accent is a pretty big give away but I just can’t pronounce things in...” he screwed up his face, “the Queen’s English,” he said, trying to mimic an English accent and failing miserably.
A pillow found itself kissing the face of Alfred Jones, sliding off in ecstasy onto the floor with a small whump sound. For Alfred however, it had vaguely hurt. It had been thrown rather viciously.
“I despise Americans!” Arthur retorted, his face red with anger.“You filthy money-grubbers come into the country and just buy up land because you’re rich! You even have the cheek to make up fake coats of arms and pretend to be noblemen even though you’ve no history!”
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you,” Alfred grinned, though there was a distinct lack of humour in his eyes.
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ILU. ILU this. Oh Arthur. So feisty!
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... But this. This. Is brilliant, anon. They're both so wickedly IC I'm grinning like a dork over here.
And how do you come up with sentences like, "A pillow found itself kissing the face of Alfred Jones, sliding off in ecstasy onto the floor with a small whump sound." Honestly. ♥
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And the way you write both Alfred and Arthur, really. They're so in character it's actually rather EASY to picture the scenes, when this anon believes it would be pretty, um...awkward, let's say, to imagine Arthur in that kind of role.
*waits eagerly for more*
Reply
His tirade was promptly cut off when Alfred practically jumped him, pinning him down against the soft bed. “Say the same thing to you,” he breathed, finishing his sentence for him. His face was too close, far too close. Arthur thought he could see all the way to the bottom of those eyes.
Alfred closed the distance, their noses almost touching, his voice was deadly serious and his eyes darkened as he drew closer. The smell of his cologne was smothering. “I don’t think you should talk so arrogantly either, pauper.”
“P - Pauper?!” Arthur threw him off of him. He blushed with indignation. He had no idea just how anyone could be so - so infuriating! “I’ll have you know that I’m - ”
“Arthur Kirkland, from the Kirkland family, I know,” Alfred sat upright on the edge of the bed, his humour had returned to him in an instant, leaving Arthur vaguely confused. “Pure white skin that’s never known a day of hard labour, flaxen hair and...what was it that man said?” he mockingly recited the words at the auction. “Oh yes, eyes like emeralds.”
“Surely you weren’t swindled by that pig’s lies!” Arthur snorted.
Alfred leaned over, cupping Arthur’s chin. “I don’t know, I think you’re pretty impressive up close.”
He batted his hand away. It brought back memories or that slave dealing pig and made him scowl at the indignity of it. “Don’t touch me, you git! Let me go!”
“Go where?” Alfred asked. “Your family sold you to pay their debts, didn’t they? I doubt they’d welcome you back with open arms and I did pay for you after all. I expect to get my money’s worth.”
Arthur opened his mouth to reply but he was not really sure what to reply with. For most part, he simply stuttered rather embarrassingly, trying to think of something rather crippling to say.
“Master Jones! You have a guest!” a female voice from below cried.
“Bring him to the drawing room and tell him to wait! I’ll be down soon,” Alfred turned his head toward the door and Arthur used this opportunity to push him away.
“It’s impolite to keep your guests waiting. You really don’t know anything about common courtesy,” he retorted.
Alfred’s attention returned to pinning his new slave against the bed. “You’re a virgin. That wasn’t a lie, was it?” he asked shamelessly. Such ill-mannered bluntness made Arthur’s cheeks burn.
“Y - You think I’m some farm girl who would lift up her skirts for just anyone?” he spat
Alfred simply laughed at his comparison, pushing his weight down to keep him from struggling. “That’s good to hear,” he grinned, leaning forward.
XX
Anon is working toward the submissive kink and the bonus kink. Sorry it's taking so long to get there!
It take three generations to make a gentleman is actually an American saying (I believe) Arthur, you hypocrite
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/incoherence
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F5F5F5F5F5
Look, you almost made me de-anon myself in my haste. D<
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P-PLEASE UPDATE SOON. <3 This is. this is so amazingly hot. -is the person who prayed you'd give it a go and is immensely happy you did- I really love how you portray aristocrat!Alfie. <3 Then again, I love when he's acting horny with Arthur. idk. it's hot. -shot-
... I feel horrible for hoping the sex scene will be very, very soon. oh my. ;A; US/UK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME.
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Reply
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Alfred’s grin widened. He was definitely too close for comfort, their noses almost touching and their breath caressing the bottom of each other’s lips. Arthur found himself forced to stare into those unnervingly blue eyes. He knew he would hate those eyes.
“What a foul mouth for a noble! Is insulting your bed partner also common courtesy?”
“B - Bed partner?!” Arthur spluttered but to flail around would probably cause them to bump heads or, worse, bump lips, so he did his best to keep himself under control. He just wished that Alfred would shift the weight off of his lower region too. It was crushing and causing unnecessary shiver to run down his spine.
“Well, that’s what I am. Since I’ll be taking that valuable virginity of yours,” Alfred whispered, pulling the merciful sheets which had covered Arthur’s body out of the way.
Magic. This man must be a warlock or a sorcerer, Arthur reckoned because, as much as he dearly wanted to at the moment, he found himself incapable of moving. Even as Alfred’s mouth descended upon his own, he felt frozen. His limbs had gone all funny. What was this?
He almost gagged when he felt a tongue slip into his mouth. No, he only wanted one tongue in his mouth thank-you-very-much - His own. However, Alfred hushed him and ran a comforting hand through his hair, calming him.
Certain that there would be no more gagging, Alfred’s tongue continued to probe his mouth. Arthur moaned and sunk deeper against the mattress, feeling a hardness poking into his thigh. He was shocked, partly scandalised that he felt disappointment when Alfred’s mouth left his own but he soon discovered that Alfred had other plans. The man traced kisses down his neck, sucking hard at the crook of his neck before going lower, kissing all the way down to his nipple.
“Ah...God!” Arthur gasped, clenching fistfuls of sheet to dig his nails in.
This was so...lewd. He was Arthur Kirkland, who was he to be seduced by some fake aristocrat? His back arched with pleasure as a large hand cupped him. He - he definitely should not be swindled like this - he gasped - but those obscene sounds as Alfred sucked his nipple were pushing out all coherent thought.
“You’re so excitable!” he heard Alfred murmur with a hint of admiration.
“Sh - Shut up!”
“Bonjour, mon cher!”
Both leapt apart as though the force of a wall had been thrown between them. The door burst open.
“...Francis!” Alfred groaned, clambering off of the bed. He looked thoroughly pissed off.
The man was dressed in the fanciest clothes Arthur had ever seen. He was used to men in coat tails and dress suits but this man was something else entirely.
“Alfred, don’t you know it is quite rude to keep your guests waiting with not a flower in sight to pass the time?” He spoke with a thick accent, drawing out his r’s as he smiled lazily, as beguiling as a Cheshire cat.
Arthur immediately scowled at him, his gaze switching between the two. A healthy well of shame rose through him. Now that his mind was clear had he really been about to do it with that obscene, bad-mannered American?
“Great. An American and a Frenchman, my two favourite kinds of people,” he muttered.
The man - Francis - surveyed him a little too eagerly for his liking. “Ah, I see you’ve been keeping the flowers to yourself.”
anon is so, so sorry for stopping there and also hopes no one minds the inclusion of Francis. I sort of need him for the poker thing
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Watch out, Arthur! XD
Oh, anon. I've been refreshing this like mad. XD
reCAPTCHA says: poked Democrats
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