Fic: Present
Title: Present
Summary: Pickles has a little gift for Charles.
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Word Count: 948
Rating/Contents: NC-17, torture, D/s, voyeurism, generalized evil behavior, episode tag for Girlfriendklok
Pairing: Charles/Pickles
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: This story sounded like a great idea when I was drunk, and then I forgot about it. Thank god I remembered again.
It's late when the knock comes on Charles's door; he's almost done for the night, just wrapping up a few last emails before retiring.
"Hey," Pickles says, when Charles looks up.
"Can I help you with something, Pickles?" he asks coolly.
"You mind if I lock this door?" Pickles asks.
Charles sits back in his chair. "Do it."
Pickles pulls the doors shut and bars them. "I brought you a present," he says proudly, setting a DVD case down on the desk with a flourish.
"The blackout in sector 23 last night," Charles says, catching on immediately. "That was you."
"Took the cameras offline, just like you taught me." Pickles's grin is smug. "Except for one, of course."
Charles slots the DVD into his laptop. The footage is grainy and dark, but Charles knows in the first few frames that he's got something good. "Knees," he says, not taking his eyes off the screen; Pickles is obedient, for once, positioning himself between Charles's legs.
On the screen, Nathan wakes to a bucket of water in the face, struggling against the rope that holds him firmly in place.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" Nathan demands. "I can't move!"
Charles watches avidly as Pickles slaps him hard across the face. He steps back; his face is illuminated for a moment as he pulls on his cigarette, puffing on it hard. "Funny thing about being tied down," Pickles says, and Charles knows enough to hear the excited tension in his voice. Suddenly, he flicks his cigarette into Nathan's face. "It's hard to keep your defenses up."
"You'd know," Charles mutters, unbuttoning his pants and zipping them down; Pickles takes it as intended, pulling his cock free of his boxers, stroking it lightly. Charles is momentarily distracted, but Nathan's screams snap him back to attention. It's Toki, innocent little Toki, who's holding the taser on him, making him writhe and shake.
"You know far too much about my tastes," he says, stroking Pickles's hair affectionately.
"I said it was a present," Pickles tells him, just before he takes Charles's cock into his mouth.
On the screen, Pickles barks an order, and the taser clicks off. They're talking, now, and Charles isn't paying attention. His focus is narrowed; he sees nothing but Nathan's face, the fear and desperation in it, feels nothing but Pickles's warm, wet mouth.
He doesn't think he's ever been this hard.
Toki hits Nathan with the taser again, and Charles bucks forward, pushing his cock deeper into Pickles's willing mouth. Nathan's screams are perfect; he's always been good at it, but it's so much sweeter when it's the real thing.
Pickles hits Nathan in the stomach a few times, socking him in the jaw for good measure; Charles will have to talk to him about that later, about not leaving marks, but right now he's enjoying himself too much to worry about it.
The crossbow is a little over the top, but Charles doesn't even care, because that's the moment when Nathan breaks, begging and apologizing, falling all over himself. Charles grabs Pickles by the hair, thrusting up into his mouth, listening to Nathan pleading.
The good part is over; Nathan is cut free and goes into Pickles's waiting arms. The video shuts off there, and Charles doesn't have any choice but to start it again. Now that he knows what's coming, he can savor it, every expression on Nathan's face, the cold calculation in Pickles's movements. He lets his hips work, fucking Pickles's mouth slowly.
"That's a good boy," he says, his hand going tighter in Pickles's hair; Pickles moans around him, sucking harder. Charles keeps his compliments to a minimum, lest they lose the devastating impact they have on Pickles, but he's really outdone himself this time. "You've done such a good job."
Nathan is screaming again, his body practically glowing from all the electricity that Toki is pumping through him; and Charles is trying so hard not to lose control, but it's not working. It's too good, too perfect; he's trained Pickles so well. The video stops again, and this time he's too far gone to restart it, but by now it doesn't matter, because he's got it behind his eyelids.
"Touch yourself," he orders, because that's part of it, too, that this is something he gets to share, that there's someone just as sick and twisted as he is. Pickles hastens to obey, practically whimpering around Charles's cock as he palms himself through his jeans. Charles moves faster, deeper, holding Pickles's head still so he has to take it all, thinking about Nathan struggling, all that strength negated. Charles wouldn't have stopped there; Nathan may think he cracked but it was nothing, nothing compared to what Charles would have done to him. Charles would have ruined him, wrecked him, broken him so thoroughly that no one else could fix him. Charles would have destroyed him.
Charles's orgasm hits him like a taser dart, shaking him to his core. He throws back his head and empties himself into Pickles's mouth, panting like he's just run a marathon.
"Come here," he tells Pickles, when he finally comes back to himself, pulling him up into his lap and kissing him.
"Did you like your present?" Pickles asks, breathlessly.
Charles strokes a hand down his back. "Of course I did."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/295520.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Pickles has a little gift for Charles.
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Word Count: 948
Rating/Contents: NC-17, torture, D/s, voyeurism, generalized evil behavior, episode tag for Girlfriendklok
Pairing: Charles/Pickles
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: This story sounded like a great idea when I was drunk, and then I forgot about it. Thank god I remembered again.
It's late when the knock comes on Charles's door; he's almost done for the night, just wrapping up a few last emails before retiring.
"Hey," Pickles says, when Charles looks up.
"Can I help you with something, Pickles?" he asks coolly.
"You mind if I lock this door?" Pickles asks.
Charles sits back in his chair. "Do it."
Pickles pulls the doors shut and bars them. "I brought you a present," he says proudly, setting a DVD case down on the desk with a flourish.
"The blackout in sector 23 last night," Charles says, catching on immediately. "That was you."
"Took the cameras offline, just like you taught me." Pickles's grin is smug. "Except for one, of course."
Charles slots the DVD into his laptop. The footage is grainy and dark, but Charles knows in the first few frames that he's got something good. "Knees," he says, not taking his eyes off the screen; Pickles is obedient, for once, positioning himself between Charles's legs.
On the screen, Nathan wakes to a bucket of water in the face, struggling against the rope that holds him firmly in place.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" Nathan demands. "I can't move!"
Charles watches avidly as Pickles slaps him hard across the face. He steps back; his face is illuminated for a moment as he pulls on his cigarette, puffing on it hard. "Funny thing about being tied down," Pickles says, and Charles knows enough to hear the excited tension in his voice. Suddenly, he flicks his cigarette into Nathan's face. "It's hard to keep your defenses up."
"You'd know," Charles mutters, unbuttoning his pants and zipping them down; Pickles takes it as intended, pulling his cock free of his boxers, stroking it lightly. Charles is momentarily distracted, but Nathan's screams snap him back to attention. It's Toki, innocent little Toki, who's holding the taser on him, making him writhe and shake.
"You know far too much about my tastes," he says, stroking Pickles's hair affectionately.
"I said it was a present," Pickles tells him, just before he takes Charles's cock into his mouth.
On the screen, Pickles barks an order, and the taser clicks off. They're talking, now, and Charles isn't paying attention. His focus is narrowed; he sees nothing but Nathan's face, the fear and desperation in it, feels nothing but Pickles's warm, wet mouth.
He doesn't think he's ever been this hard.
Toki hits Nathan with the taser again, and Charles bucks forward, pushing his cock deeper into Pickles's willing mouth. Nathan's screams are perfect; he's always been good at it, but it's so much sweeter when it's the real thing.
Pickles hits Nathan in the stomach a few times, socking him in the jaw for good measure; Charles will have to talk to him about that later, about not leaving marks, but right now he's enjoying himself too much to worry about it.
The crossbow is a little over the top, but Charles doesn't even care, because that's the moment when Nathan breaks, begging and apologizing, falling all over himself. Charles grabs Pickles by the hair, thrusting up into his mouth, listening to Nathan pleading.
The good part is over; Nathan is cut free and goes into Pickles's waiting arms. The video shuts off there, and Charles doesn't have any choice but to start it again. Now that he knows what's coming, he can savor it, every expression on Nathan's face, the cold calculation in Pickles's movements. He lets his hips work, fucking Pickles's mouth slowly.
"That's a good boy," he says, his hand going tighter in Pickles's hair; Pickles moans around him, sucking harder. Charles keeps his compliments to a minimum, lest they lose the devastating impact they have on Pickles, but he's really outdone himself this time. "You've done such a good job."
Nathan is screaming again, his body practically glowing from all the electricity that Toki is pumping through him; and Charles is trying so hard not to lose control, but it's not working. It's too good, too perfect; he's trained Pickles so well. The video stops again, and this time he's too far gone to restart it, but by now it doesn't matter, because he's got it behind his eyelids.
"Touch yourself," he orders, because that's part of it, too, that this is something he gets to share, that there's someone just as sick and twisted as he is. Pickles hastens to obey, practically whimpering around Charles's cock as he palms himself through his jeans. Charles moves faster, deeper, holding Pickles's head still so he has to take it all, thinking about Nathan struggling, all that strength negated. Charles wouldn't have stopped there; Nathan may think he cracked but it was nothing, nothing compared to what Charles would have done to him. Charles would have ruined him, wrecked him, broken him so thoroughly that no one else could fix him. Charles would have destroyed him.
Charles's orgasm hits him like a taser dart, shaking him to his core. He throws back his head and empties himself into Pickles's mouth, panting like he's just run a marathon.
"Come here," he tells Pickles, when he finally comes back to himself, pulling him up into his lap and kissing him.
"Did you like your present?" Pickles asks, breathlessly.
Charles strokes a hand down his back. "Of course I did."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/295520.html.
comments over there.