(no subject)
suffocation.
Ville/Bam. NC-17. Warnings: s&m, erotic asphyxiation, smut, language. They both liked to play the game. Beta'd by poisonxangel.
Friday night, 10:00 pm. That was when the game always started, no matter what city they met in. The choice of location was a hard one most of the time, but Ville’s text message came like it always did, at 9:00 pm, giving him only an hour of warning and preparation.
There’s a motel with single units on 5th Avenue. Meet me in Room 102. Don’t be late, I’m in a bad mood.
When he arrived there, he wasn’t to speak to Ville under any circumstances. No hello, no how are you. As soon as the lock clicked in place, he was the prey and Ville the predator. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, his eyes averted carefully to the dirty mauve carpet. His cock was already semi-erect with anticipation, the ever present threat to his well-being making his blood thrum through his veins, his pupils dilate, and his breath quicken, accented when he heard Ville take the first two steps towards him. The footsteps were heavy and deliberate. Ville knew exactly how to put him on edge.
"You're two minutes late, Bam."
Bam swallowed. He didn't realize.
"I told you I was in a bad mood. Did you think I was joking?"
The hand that jerked his chin forward tore a surprised gasp from his dry throat; his vulnerable blue eyes finally able to take in the sight of his idol and his morbid lover. Ville's cheeks were flushed, the ruddy color stark against his pale skin. His hair was tied back at his neck, leaving the long, lean lines of his nape visible. Bam wanted so badly to feel the heat and wetness of Ville's lips against his own, but he knew it wasn't the time for that. That would come later, after the blessed pain.
"Answer me." The baritone resonance of Ville's voice settled in the room with a dangerous connotation.
"I'm sorry...I swear my watch said nine fifty eight when I got here," his own voice was a fevered plea for mercy that he didn't care if he got. It was all a show.
When Ville backhanded him, he felt blood gather on his lip, the consequence of the Finn's silver rings, each finger adorned with one, making the impact of knuckles severe. The throbbing sensation sent Bam into a deep moan, his tongue darting out to lick up the metallic blood from his lip, pleased by the strangely sweet liquid dribbling down his chin.
"You know I hate it when you're late. And you know what I do to unreliable sluts, don't you?"
Bam trembled when he felt Ville's body heat against his back, the airy touch of his chest and his hips an extreme contrast to the harsh tone of his words. "Get against the wall," he growled in Bam's ear, teasing him with the inadequately short brush of his tongue over his lobe.
Doing as he was told, Bam pressed the front of his body to the wall, whimpering when he heard the telltale click of Ville's switchblade as it swung open. He could almost envision the tip gleaming in the dimly lit room, poised to make him bleed and make him come. But it didn't bite into the flesh of his skin as it usually did. Ville took the collar of his shirt in hand, pulling it taught.
"I hope you don't like this shirt too much."
The sound of ripping cloth filled the room, the touch of air finding Bam's bare skin as the knife cut through his shirt, leaving his entire back exposed. Ville moaned as he tore the clothing from Bam's arms, the useless garment slipping to the floor. The destruction of his jeans followed, the tip of steel lightly grazing the backs of his calves as Ville made slits down the legs. Turning Bam around with a harsh grip of his hand, he stopped, his fiendish green eyes fixated on a point just below Bam's hips.
That's when Bam remembered. The scarf. You left it in your pocket you idiot! He glanced down quickly, groaning when he saw the small glimpse of red silk. He was in trouble.
Ville looked curiously at the slither of red fabric that protruded from Bam's pocket, his attention hooked by the slick looking material. Fingers darted out and tugged the item from its confines until it was fully grasped between his greedy digits. He wrapped it around his fist, looking at it for a moment more before his stare found Bam. He knew better than to bring things with him. It was a rule. Shirt, pants, and himself. Only.
"What is this?" he shoved the fabric a mere centimeter from Bam's face, the anger in his voice palpable.
"My...scarf..." Bam replied, his eyes averting.
"It's hot outside. Why do you have this!" Ville had a feeling that he knew, and the thought of Bam wanting him to do that only angered him more.
"I wanted you to...I was going to ask you to..." he stuttered over his words, looking up at Ville with a plea in his eyes.
"I'm not going to choke you, Bam."
"But-"
"It's too dangerous. I'm not going to put you in that position." There was something in Ville's voice that usually wasn't there-veiled concern.
Despite the ambiguous show of emotion, Bam didn't acquiesce to the Finn's dissuasive words. "Please, Ville. I get so...so hard just thinking about it. I trust you." He took a brave step forward and pulled the scarf from Ville's fingers.
The singer watched as Bam deviously wrapped the seductive object around his neck, the deep vermilion silk a perfect circle around his tanned skin, slight pressure making the veins in his neck stand out. The display made Ville's blood rush to his cock, his erection painful and pronounced beneath tight denim. He didn't think as his hand snaked out to take the ends of the scarf, tugging on it just the slightest bit so Bam had to move closer.
"Please."
"Shut up and get on the bed," Ville demanded, drawing the scarf from Bam's neck. He knew that he was going to give into Bam's request, however risky. He couldn't help it, the way Bam looked at him, the way Bam looked with the restraint wrapped so prettily around his throat. The Finn couldn't deny that it was something he had thought about, wanted.
When he was satisfied with Bam's position on the bed, he came to stand at the foot of it, looking down at his precious prize. The toned, beautiful body laid out across the tacky motel sheets was his. He could do whatever he wanted to it within reasonable limits. He could give any order and Bam would obey. That kind of power was the sort of thing that made the breath in his lungs quicken and the desire in the pit of his stomach deepen.
"Take off your pants."
The shredded jeans that still graced Bam's legs were tossed to the floor, his nude body reclining on the mattress, ready for more orders, more of Ville's degradation.
Climbing onto the bed, Ville came to rest on his knees just in front of Bam's prone figure. "Unzip me."
He smirked when he felt Bam's hands on his waistband. "No. With your teeth."
Bam didn't even flinch as he leaned down, looking up earnestly as he caught the edge of fabric surrounding the button of Ville’s pants between his teeth, pulling at it with proficiency until he was able to separate the buttonhole from the button. Then, he clasped the zipper with his teeth, edging it down slowly until the front of Ville's jeans gaped open, Bam's breath washing enticingly over his abdomen. He always went commando for their little rendezvous, underwear merely got in the way.
Bam watched him, waiting for another dictum, anything to affirm what Ville wanted him to do next.
"Take out my dick."
Bam's fingers wrapped around his cock, bringing it past the unzipped front of his pants. He looked down at it with relish, and Ville knew his next command would be executed with utmost enjoyment.
"Suck it."
Bam's lips were smooth and careful as they slicked down the shaft of Ville's cock, sliding all the way down, though achieving nothing more than a low murmur from Ville, his lips parting only the tiniest bit. The way Bam's tongue laved over the heated flesh, his throat clenching around it, felt so exquisite, but Ville was cautious not to give away his praise so easily. Bam would know if he paid attention, though, by the rising pitch of his breath and the clenching muscles of his lower stomach, that his mouth was doing its job, slow and deep just the way the Finn liked it.
He bit down on his lip when Bam sucked on the tip of his erection, pulling the skin taught as his tongue darted out and circled the sleek head, bits of lustrous pre-come coating his lips. It was a lovely sight and he couldn't stop the gruff sound of pleasure that escaped him, the violent shiver that shook his shoulders.
"Stop."
Bam pulled back quickly, taken aback by the brusque order. His breath was uneven as he tried to regain his lost air supply, tongue darting out to lick up the come from his mouth.
Ville shivered again, choking a groan that threatened his lips in response to the unintentional spectacle. "Lay back."
When Bam complied, Ville kicked off his pants, moving to straddle Bam's hips, pinning him effectively to the bed.
"Vil-" Bam tried to speak, only to be cut off by the unforgiving press of Ville's fingers around his throat, his words strangled and his air intake arrested. He struggled instinctively, trying to heave breath through his nostrils in vain. Only after a second or two did he calm down, his eyes closing and his lips parting silently as his will overcame his body's impulse. Ville knew he would begin to feel lightheaded, knew his limbs would tingle from the lack of oxygen, and that everything would feel just a bit more profound: the slide of his hips as he rocked them once or twice, his arousal brushing Bam's momentarily, Ville's breath against his lips as he leaned down. "Don't ever talk without my permission," he hissed before his hold was gone just as quickly as it had come, leaving Bam to suck in lungfuls of precious air, his raspy gasps making Ville's cock twitch.
The experimental deprivation of air only made Ville want to do it again, the control so absolute. Bam's life was literally in his hands, and whether it was couth or not, the idea aroused him more than anything. He knew Bam felt the same longing for their new endeavor, the voracious glaze of his eyes evidence enough.
Rocking his hips forward, he reached down, his hand wrapping around both of their shafts, disregarding his staunch persona for a moment as he enjoyed the whimpers and whines and moans that flew from Bam's lips like little prayers, only stopping when the movement of Ville's hips ceased, his hands finding either side of Bam's head, supporting himself as he spread the skater's legs apart with a probing knee so he could settle himself between them, ready to take what was his.
With one hand poised on Bam's thigh, the other grabbed a hold of the forgotten silk scarf, twining it around Bam's throat, Ville's lips curving in a twisted smile. He loved watching Bam squirm beneath him.
The moment he slid inside of Bam's hot tightness, he twisted the scarf so it constricted Bam's airway, watching as he writhed from the simultaneous infliction of pain before loosening the fabric once again, listening to his sharp intakes of breath. It was beautiful, and Ville sobbed in bliss, unable to ever express how lascivious and drunk with desire Bam made him feel.
The first thrust was the only gentle one, and as they became more violent, Ville found the perfect pattern of asphyxiation. As he pulled out, he tightened the scarf, and as he pressed himself back in with all the force he could muster, he loosened it, grinning when Bam started to make loud, uncontrolled sounds somewhere between desire and protest, his hips arching desperately off the bed, meeting each of Ville's thrusts with greed. The Finn loved that he was torturing Bam at the same time he was satisfying him, rocking hard against his sweet spot over and over, taking great care to recognize his limits and sense when he was about to come.
It was a precise moment, a specific tightening of muscles and shifting of sweaty, trembling limbs. At the precipice, Ville tightened the circle of fabric around Bam's throat harder than before, and they both came, Bam with a broken, strangled gasp and Ville with a loud sob, his hand releasing the deadly hold of the scarf as he fell on top of Bam, their sweat slicked bodies melding perfectly along one another. They didn't move, didn't speak. Ville was certain Bam wouldn't be able to speak well for some hours, the soreness of his throat the sweet reminder of Ville's cruelty.
As usual, Ville said nothing as he peeled himself from Bam, stood up, and cleaned them off with precision, tugging on his clothes and realizing Bam had absolutely nothing decent to wear.
He didn't bring the skater's attention to that fact immediately, choosing that moment to grasp Bam's chin, pulling him in for a long, luscious kiss, the only gentle touch Ville ever bestowed upon his willing slave.
Standing, he grabbed his keys, turning to glance at Bam with a broad, feisty smile. "I hope you got what you wanted, Bam. But the price for being late still remains." He laughed as he swung the door to the motel room open, the ball of red silk clasped in his right hand, leaving Bam naked, unable to retort, and slowly realizing exactly what his cryptic words meant.
[end]
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