(no subject)
Umbra, Penumbra
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Dom/Sir Ian
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Even right-side up, the world may be upside down.
Warning: bondage, s/D tones
Word Count: 1,255
Disclaimer: Lies, lies, lies, yeah.
Feedback: Love it! Will feed it with cookies.
Beta: the ever-beautiful raynemaiden. Thank you, love! :)
Happy, Happy Birthday to the celestial themoononastick!!! :D
I hope your day is filled with yummy sweets and porn and fine beverages or drugs and groovy music about drugs and/or porn and pretty boys with other pretty boys or with girls or just girls or Winnie/Frankie and much in the way of happy, fun stuff like porn!
¡♥!
Umbra, Penumbra
Not his style. Not his modus operandi. This.
This indelicate surge of power made him question himself to the core. Only, he was all out of questions for himself, left with the rhetorical ones he lobbed at Dominic.
“Do you want me to stop?” being the most useless query of all. And yet he asked it again, simply to feel the strain in Dominic’s skin as he tugged his body taut, the roped veins on his neck presenting his bare pulse. Ian fingered it, allowing it to throb into him, following a trickle of sweat that edged along the undulating line. Life and death contained in these little flickers, he thought. Life and death, such power. Too much. And Dominic offered it without protest.
Save the protest that brought him more.
Arching his back over the piano bench, Dominic tested the binds. Thick leather rubbed into his wrists, chafed his ankles. He pivoted all four joints, and Ian imagined tiny shreds of leather feathering off and clinging to him, black speckling the raw, red flesh.
Ian slid his hands around Dominic’s sides, cradling the small of his back with widely-splayed fingers, and licked the crevice between his ribs. A gentle move to counteract the hard set of the five restraints. Five, like points of a star. One at each extremity. Ian was careful not to touch the nearest, kept himself away, his body over Dominic but not providing any friction. He wanted him to want this more. To feel it more. He wanted to make him weep, to need it that badly.
To try: one small lick at, but not quite touching, the head of Dominic’s cock. It was deep red against the black cloth Ian had tied around it. Looping the ends of fabric around his wrists, he drew it tighter, watched it cut into the swollen skin, smiled at the moaning and trembling that ripped through Dominic’s body.
“How tight can you take it, Dominic?” Ian whispered, cool air passing over the burn of the bind, soothing but teasing.
“Tighter,” he responded through grit teeth.
Ian released the knot and Dominic’s cock fell free against his hip. He stretched to look at Ian, shoulders rounding, domes of muscle prominent on his upper arms.
“Can you take me on?” Ian met his gaze, daring him not to blink while he rolled his balls roughly.
Dominic bit his lip and stared back hard. “Yes,” he hissed.
“You think so, boy?” Ian ground two knuckles behind Dominic’s balls. “My age is insignificant. I could ride you into the ground. I could break you.”
Dominic’s head lolled against his shoulder, relying on the thin edge of the bench to keep it from falling back while he watched Ian’s eyes. He had to swallow before answering, licking his parched lips. “Do it,” he said.
Straightening, Ian stood and walked toward the other end of the bench, toward Dominic’s head. Behind him, the black cloth trailed up Dominic’s torso. Ian made sure its tail slipped over one of his nipples, trusted in the intake of breath that the raised hem of the tail would bring as it grazed the sensitive flesh. When he heard the small gasp, he yearned for another, wanted to draw out a deeper sound, a rasp and growl. Then he wanted to make him wail, make him scream-the noise spiraling out of him from deep in his gut and up out his throat, buzzing on his open lips. This, Ian wanted to feel as well as hear.
He let the black cloth fall over Dominic’s face. He said, “Open your mouth.” Dominic did, and the fabric collapsed between his lips as he inhaled harshly. Ian traced the crooked outline of his mouth, breath heating and dampening the material under his forefinger. He folded the cloth at one end, then the other, leaving a neatly layered swath in the middle, over Dominic’s eyes. He tied the ends behind his head and bent over him.
Inverted, he kissed him. He sucked at his bottom lip, releasing with the resistant catch of his closing teeth. He kissed up Dominic’s chin, tongue skirring against the coarse hairs. Scraping his teeth against the vulnerable spot below the chin caused Dominic to press his face into Ian’s neck and chest. Pinching the flesh, Ian bit into him lightly then stood again.
Beneath the blindfold, Dominic’s eyes fluttered as though searching. Ian combed his fingers through Dominic’s hair and whispered his name. “You will open your mouth again. You will make those pretty lips into the tightest ring for me, won’t you?” Fisting a thatch of hair at the base of his neck, he added, “And don’t you stop until I tell you to.”
He jerked at the roots of Dominic’s hair. “Now.”
Dominic’s mouth fell open, tongue curling against his bottom teeth. Ian placed his hands on Dominic’s chest and leaned forward, hands sliding down to grip the sides of the piano bench. Hips easing forward, he pushed his cock into Dominic’s waiting mouth. Wet silky heat enveloped him, drew him in. Dominic swallowed around him and he lurched, groaning, back and arms straining to maintain his stance. With shaky arms, he shifted and steadied himself until he was ready to move. He rocked forward, fucked his mouth deeper and deeper with each thrust. As he did, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue against a nipple. In response, Dominic sucked harder. Ian clamped his teeth around the tiny bud and felt a moan rocket up and vibrate around his cock. Sliding his bottom jaw, he bit harder and twisted. A low cry rippled up and over Ian now. Abdomen twitching, he released the nipple, raised his head to watch Dominic’s chest rise and fall laboriously. He inhaled sharply and laved the nipple again, feeling Dominic purr around him.
Sweat trickled down the backs of his knees as he stretched himself forward and extended his tongue for a quick lash against Dominic’s cock. This earned him a deeper, pulsating purr and he drove down for more.
More teasing for more of that. Whatever it took to get more of that mouth shuddering around him, threatening to shatter him.
Off-balance, he held himself up on one precarious arm, reaching the other hand out to Dominic’s cock. With his fingernail, he coaxed the foreskin up over the head and rubbed. He watched it pull back, tightening, and felt Dominic’s mouth go slack around his own cock. Growling low in his throat, Ian scratched down the slit of Dominic’s cock. A hiss of air breezed over him before he felt the pressure of lips again.
“Good, good,” he said and resumed his grip on the bench, arms locked, head bowed. “Swallow,” he commanded.
And Dominic obeyed. One swallow after the other, devouring. Like a glutton, he thought, and said so, berating Dominic with the word. Repeating.
His thrusts becoming more erratic, Ian felt his control unraveling. Panting, he pulled out slightly and stilled his hips. Dominic reached upward, tightened his lips and sucked hard down the length of Ian’s cock and Ian came, silent and shaking as his muscles undid themselves. Dominic swallowed over and over, emptying him, relentless.
Easing to the floor, Ian gathered himself. He felt open and vulnerable. His fingertips brushed the binds at Dominic’s wrist, and he wondered at the juxtaposition of physical and mental exposure.
In the end, Ian knew Dominic maintained all control. That was his style. The proud smile on his lips said it all.
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Dom/Sir Ian
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Even right-side up, the world may be upside down.
Warning: bondage, s/D tones
Word Count: 1,255
Disclaimer: Lies, lies, lies, yeah.
Feedback: Love it! Will feed it with cookies.
Beta: the ever-beautiful raynemaiden. Thank you, love! :)
Happy, Happy Birthday to the celestial themoononastick!!! :D
I hope your day is filled with yummy sweets and porn and fine beverages or drugs and groovy music about drugs and/or porn and pretty boys with other pretty boys or with girls or just girls or Winnie/Frankie and much in the way of happy, fun stuff like porn!
¡♥!
Umbra, Penumbra
Not his style. Not his modus operandi. This.
This indelicate surge of power made him question himself to the core. Only, he was all out of questions for himself, left with the rhetorical ones he lobbed at Dominic.
“Do you want me to stop?” being the most useless query of all. And yet he asked it again, simply to feel the strain in Dominic’s skin as he tugged his body taut, the roped veins on his neck presenting his bare pulse. Ian fingered it, allowing it to throb into him, following a trickle of sweat that edged along the undulating line. Life and death contained in these little flickers, he thought. Life and death, such power. Too much. And Dominic offered it without protest.
Save the protest that brought him more.
Arching his back over the piano bench, Dominic tested the binds. Thick leather rubbed into his wrists, chafed his ankles. He pivoted all four joints, and Ian imagined tiny shreds of leather feathering off and clinging to him, black speckling the raw, red flesh.
Ian slid his hands around Dominic’s sides, cradling the small of his back with widely-splayed fingers, and licked the crevice between his ribs. A gentle move to counteract the hard set of the five restraints. Five, like points of a star. One at each extremity. Ian was careful not to touch the nearest, kept himself away, his body over Dominic but not providing any friction. He wanted him to want this more. To feel it more. He wanted to make him weep, to need it that badly.
To try: one small lick at, but not quite touching, the head of Dominic’s cock. It was deep red against the black cloth Ian had tied around it. Looping the ends of fabric around his wrists, he drew it tighter, watched it cut into the swollen skin, smiled at the moaning and trembling that ripped through Dominic’s body.
“How tight can you take it, Dominic?” Ian whispered, cool air passing over the burn of the bind, soothing but teasing.
“Tighter,” he responded through grit teeth.
Ian released the knot and Dominic’s cock fell free against his hip. He stretched to look at Ian, shoulders rounding, domes of muscle prominent on his upper arms.
“Can you take me on?” Ian met his gaze, daring him not to blink while he rolled his balls roughly.
Dominic bit his lip and stared back hard. “Yes,” he hissed.
“You think so, boy?” Ian ground two knuckles behind Dominic’s balls. “My age is insignificant. I could ride you into the ground. I could break you.”
Dominic’s head lolled against his shoulder, relying on the thin edge of the bench to keep it from falling back while he watched Ian’s eyes. He had to swallow before answering, licking his parched lips. “Do it,” he said.
Straightening, Ian stood and walked toward the other end of the bench, toward Dominic’s head. Behind him, the black cloth trailed up Dominic’s torso. Ian made sure its tail slipped over one of his nipples, trusted in the intake of breath that the raised hem of the tail would bring as it grazed the sensitive flesh. When he heard the small gasp, he yearned for another, wanted to draw out a deeper sound, a rasp and growl. Then he wanted to make him wail, make him scream-the noise spiraling out of him from deep in his gut and up out his throat, buzzing on his open lips. This, Ian wanted to feel as well as hear.
He let the black cloth fall over Dominic’s face. He said, “Open your mouth.” Dominic did, and the fabric collapsed between his lips as he inhaled harshly. Ian traced the crooked outline of his mouth, breath heating and dampening the material under his forefinger. He folded the cloth at one end, then the other, leaving a neatly layered swath in the middle, over Dominic’s eyes. He tied the ends behind his head and bent over him.
Inverted, he kissed him. He sucked at his bottom lip, releasing with the resistant catch of his closing teeth. He kissed up Dominic’s chin, tongue skirring against the coarse hairs. Scraping his teeth against the vulnerable spot below the chin caused Dominic to press his face into Ian’s neck and chest. Pinching the flesh, Ian bit into him lightly then stood again.
Beneath the blindfold, Dominic’s eyes fluttered as though searching. Ian combed his fingers through Dominic’s hair and whispered his name. “You will open your mouth again. You will make those pretty lips into the tightest ring for me, won’t you?” Fisting a thatch of hair at the base of his neck, he added, “And don’t you stop until I tell you to.”
He jerked at the roots of Dominic’s hair. “Now.”
Dominic’s mouth fell open, tongue curling against his bottom teeth. Ian placed his hands on Dominic’s chest and leaned forward, hands sliding down to grip the sides of the piano bench. Hips easing forward, he pushed his cock into Dominic’s waiting mouth. Wet silky heat enveloped him, drew him in. Dominic swallowed around him and he lurched, groaning, back and arms straining to maintain his stance. With shaky arms, he shifted and steadied himself until he was ready to move. He rocked forward, fucked his mouth deeper and deeper with each thrust. As he did, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue against a nipple. In response, Dominic sucked harder. Ian clamped his teeth around the tiny bud and felt a moan rocket up and vibrate around his cock. Sliding his bottom jaw, he bit harder and twisted. A low cry rippled up and over Ian now. Abdomen twitching, he released the nipple, raised his head to watch Dominic’s chest rise and fall laboriously. He inhaled sharply and laved the nipple again, feeling Dominic purr around him.
Sweat trickled down the backs of his knees as he stretched himself forward and extended his tongue for a quick lash against Dominic’s cock. This earned him a deeper, pulsating purr and he drove down for more.
More teasing for more of that. Whatever it took to get more of that mouth shuddering around him, threatening to shatter him.
Off-balance, he held himself up on one precarious arm, reaching the other hand out to Dominic’s cock. With his fingernail, he coaxed the foreskin up over the head and rubbed. He watched it pull back, tightening, and felt Dominic’s mouth go slack around his own cock. Growling low in his throat, Ian scratched down the slit of Dominic’s cock. A hiss of air breezed over him before he felt the pressure of lips again.
“Good, good,” he said and resumed his grip on the bench, arms locked, head bowed. “Swallow,” he commanded.
And Dominic obeyed. One swallow after the other, devouring. Like a glutton, he thought, and said so, berating Dominic with the word. Repeating.
His thrusts becoming more erratic, Ian felt his control unraveling. Panting, he pulled out slightly and stilled his hips. Dominic reached upward, tightened his lips and sucked hard down the length of Ian’s cock and Ian came, silent and shaking as his muscles undid themselves. Dominic swallowed over and over, emptying him, relentless.
Easing to the floor, Ian gathered himself. He felt open and vulnerable. His fingertips brushed the binds at Dominic’s wrist, and he wondered at the juxtaposition of physical and mental exposure.
In the end, Ian knew Dominic maintained all control. That was his style. The proud smile on his lips said it all.
