More than half the fun. (2/?)
- Tittle: More than half the fun. (2/?)
- Author:
miss_kelsi_alix
- Pairing: Frankie/Jepha
- Rating: R
- POV: Third.
- Summary: "And you did, you prepared, but your little fingers will never compare to what he has instore for you"
- Dedications: Still for Heather.
xiunacyxfringex
- Disclaimer: No sue.
- A/N: I like this part, but I'm not so good at the writting in third person thing I dont think, let me know what you think. Also I think I use the "boy" and the "man" thing to much. Is it annoying?
Part 1
The boy’s body jumps as the man speaks those first simple words., but he recovers quickly and lies still. His chest is puffed slightly, swollen with the breath of air that he holds deep within his lungs. Only when the man speaks again does the boy allow the air to exhale gracefully from his plump pink lips.
“I see you have done as I asked, very good boy”
The boy’s cheeks swell slightly and a glow fills his face as his lips twitch upwards, a small smile forms as a result of this simple praise but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. Just waits.
They have both played this game before, many times in fact and by now the boy has learnt the roll of a submissive. He has become accustomed to the rules and punishments and as a result he rarely has to experience them now.
The man sits on the edge of the bed and allows his hand to glide across his lovers body, from ankle to smooth thigh and then silken chest down to the elegant hip bones, lightly protruding from the painted skin.
It’s such a tender moment, a sweet thought shared between such unlikely characters. No need for whispered confirmations of feelings, or a delicate 'I love you'. The feeling is simply mutual, it’s given, it’s granted and the silence this knowledge holds is golden.
But in a situation like this, these moments never last long, they are necessary preparation, but not after all, the reason we are here.
The man who is sitting carefully leans over the smaller body and presses his lips to the others, a soft groan emitted from our submissive lets us know his appreciation as he begins to kiss back, his moist pink tongue darts out and searches for entry into the other mans mouth.
Obviously this action was not approved of by our games master because instead of opening his mouth and granting the searching boy the access he desires the dominant partner quickly grasps the boys lip ring between his teeth and gives a sharp tug.
The boy mewls quietly, but his tongue has stopped it’s searching and the slight punishment has served its purpose.
The man pulls back and asks the boy if he is ready, the young one must assume that his voice is not for tonight, as he simply nods his consensus.
A sadistic smirk takes over the mans face and although the boy cannot see this his body seems to sense it.
The man must note the boy’s reaction because his face softens and he reassures his prey, or ‘petal’ as he calls him, that everything is okay.
The man leans over the boy again and this time he is the one who initiates the deepening of their kiss. The young boy is in no position to resist, although he would never want to anyway.
When the kiss eventually breaks the man does not hesitate as he reaches towards one of the elegant candles in its shining silver molding. Carefully he holds it over the boys naked chest and then without warning he tips it quickly, allowing the stream of freshly molten wax to scorch and torture the young boys fresh skin.
As it does a scream of pain escapes the boy’s mouth. The mans face has secured the same sadistic expression as before while he continues his path over the boys body, leaving a trail of originally burning hot, but rapidly cooling black wax.
He has trailed the steadily melting candle from nipple to nipple and then down the left hand side. A loop goes around the young ones belly button and halfway back up the right side of the body, almost, but not quiet meeting with the defined ribcage.
The trail he has made forms a perfect “J” marking the boy as his own.
He places the candle back on the table and gently blows a cool path of air over his marking. His lips exactly following the track his hand just mapped out. Once satisfied that the wax is dry he leans to the table and carefully blows out the first of the candles.
He belongs to him.
We know that now, as does the boy.
- Author:
miss_kelsi_alix
- Pairing: Frankie/Jepha
- Rating: R
- POV: Third.
- Summary: "And you did, you prepared, but your little fingers will never compare to what he has instore for you"
- Dedications: Still for Heather.
xiunacyxfringex
- Disclaimer: No sue.
- A/N: I like this part, but I'm not so good at the writting in third person thing I dont think, let me know what you think. Also I think I use the "boy" and the "man" thing to much. Is it annoying?
Part 1
The boy’s body jumps as the man speaks those first simple words., but he recovers quickly and lies still. His chest is puffed slightly, swollen with the breath of air that he holds deep within his lungs. Only when the man speaks again does the boy allow the air to exhale gracefully from his plump pink lips.
“I see you have done as I asked, very good boy”
The boy’s cheeks swell slightly and a glow fills his face as his lips twitch upwards, a small smile forms as a result of this simple praise but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. Just waits.
They have both played this game before, many times in fact and by now the boy has learnt the roll of a submissive. He has become accustomed to the rules and punishments and as a result he rarely has to experience them now.
The man sits on the edge of the bed and allows his hand to glide across his lovers body, from ankle to smooth thigh and then silken chest down to the elegant hip bones, lightly protruding from the painted skin.
It’s such a tender moment, a sweet thought shared between such unlikely characters. No need for whispered confirmations of feelings, or a delicate 'I love you'. The feeling is simply mutual, it’s given, it’s granted and the silence this knowledge holds is golden.
But in a situation like this, these moments never last long, they are necessary preparation, but not after all, the reason we are here.
The man who is sitting carefully leans over the smaller body and presses his lips to the others, a soft groan emitted from our submissive lets us know his appreciation as he begins to kiss back, his moist pink tongue darts out and searches for entry into the other mans mouth.
Obviously this action was not approved of by our games master because instead of opening his mouth and granting the searching boy the access he desires the dominant partner quickly grasps the boys lip ring between his teeth and gives a sharp tug.
The boy mewls quietly, but his tongue has stopped it’s searching and the slight punishment has served its purpose.
The man pulls back and asks the boy if he is ready, the young one must assume that his voice is not for tonight, as he simply nods his consensus.
A sadistic smirk takes over the mans face and although the boy cannot see this his body seems to sense it.
The man must note the boy’s reaction because his face softens and he reassures his prey, or ‘petal’ as he calls him, that everything is okay.
The man leans over the boy again and this time he is the one who initiates the deepening of their kiss. The young boy is in no position to resist, although he would never want to anyway.
When the kiss eventually breaks the man does not hesitate as he reaches towards one of the elegant candles in its shining silver molding. Carefully he holds it over the boys naked chest and then without warning he tips it quickly, allowing the stream of freshly molten wax to scorch and torture the young boys fresh skin.
As it does a scream of pain escapes the boy’s mouth. The mans face has secured the same sadistic expression as before while he continues his path over the boys body, leaving a trail of originally burning hot, but rapidly cooling black wax.
He has trailed the steadily melting candle from nipple to nipple and then down the left hand side. A loop goes around the young ones belly button and halfway back up the right side of the body, almost, but not quiet meeting with the defined ribcage.
The trail he has made forms a perfect “J” marking the boy as his own.
He places the candle back on the table and gently blows a cool path of air over his marking. His lips exactly following the track his hand just mapped out. Once satisfied that the wax is dry he leans to the table and carefully blows out the first of the candles.
He belongs to him.
We know that now, as does the boy.