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measured_wordsFandom: Alt!Diablotin 2
Pairing/characters: Sendhel/Roene
Rating: R
Notes: Mostly a character exploration. Slavery, BDSM.
Dynamics
She isn’t listening, particularly, but the sounds of sex drift to her from a few rooms away. It doesn’t sound like any of the regulars – certainly not Vica or Ydeline – and she wonders who the fuck-du-jour could be. It doesn’t matter, really. In an hour or two, she guesses, he’ll call for her, and she’ll draw him a bath and bring the usual tray.
There’s very little that surprises her anymore – not after the first time she’d come in and found *him* to be a *her*. Or the first time she’d found him after an hour of uncommon silence, blindfolded, gagged, and chained by the ring in his spine to the …contraption in the corner, face bruised and covered in shallow cuts. He’d laughed it off, after she brought him around, saying that some just liked more extreme play. Play. Now, there is always a potion on the tray.
Her master fucks a lot of people. She hopes he enjoys it as much as he appears to, because he doesn’t seem to care about much else. He dabbles in his lab. He carries out some perfunctory duties for the embassy. He hangs out with some friends – all of whom he also fucks.
He isn’t so bad to work for. Not too demanding, really. He doesn’t beat her, or let anyone else beat her. He likes to indulge in the little luxuries most of the upper class take for granted, as though his enjoyment of them could make them all the more extravagant. Hot baths with scented oil, silk sheets, fine wine, pretty things. Sometimes, he indulges her too, when he can get away with it, or when he’s trying to antagonize Vica. But that’s just another display, she thinks.
Of course, he fucks her too. He never would have bought her if he didn’t find her attractive. She doesn’t really mind. He’s not cruel, and a lot of the time it really is just as he calls it – play. It’s a game he is very good at, even just with a slave like her. She can understand why he paid to have her tongue pierced, if it feels as good on his cock as his own does against her clit, or run around the rim of her pussy, or her ass. The bar through the head of his cock, too, always seems to hit in just the right spots inside her. He seems to know her body better than she does. He pushes her limits. “Don’t be scared,” he laughs, “you’re going to like this.” And he’s right – the cuffs, the ties, toys and gels and drugs, the little games of pretend.
He lets her be in charge too, sometimes. Sort of – even when she has him trussed up and squirming, crop in hand while she fucks him in the ass with one of the larger strap-on phalli from his collection, he seems to guide her, with a look, or the way he moves against her. She is still a slave, and of course it crosses her mind on occasion just what she might do to the man who owns her while she has him at her mercy. It never seems quite worth following though; she knows she has a good gig.
Pairing/characters: Sendhel/Roene
Rating: R
Notes: Mostly a character exploration. Slavery, BDSM.
Dynamics
She isn’t listening, particularly, but the sounds of sex drift to her from a few rooms away. It doesn’t sound like any of the regulars – certainly not Vica or Ydeline – and she wonders who the fuck-du-jour could be. It doesn’t matter, really. In an hour or two, she guesses, he’ll call for her, and she’ll draw him a bath and bring the usual tray.
There’s very little that surprises her anymore – not after the first time she’d come in and found *him* to be a *her*. Or the first time she’d found him after an hour of uncommon silence, blindfolded, gagged, and chained by the ring in his spine to the …contraption in the corner, face bruised and covered in shallow cuts. He’d laughed it off, after she brought him around, saying that some just liked more extreme play. Play. Now, there is always a potion on the tray.
Her master fucks a lot of people. She hopes he enjoys it as much as he appears to, because he doesn’t seem to care about much else. He dabbles in his lab. He carries out some perfunctory duties for the embassy. He hangs out with some friends – all of whom he also fucks.
He isn’t so bad to work for. Not too demanding, really. He doesn’t beat her, or let anyone else beat her. He likes to indulge in the little luxuries most of the upper class take for granted, as though his enjoyment of them could make them all the more extravagant. Hot baths with scented oil, silk sheets, fine wine, pretty things. Sometimes, he indulges her too, when he can get away with it, or when he’s trying to antagonize Vica. But that’s just another display, she thinks.
Of course, he fucks her too. He never would have bought her if he didn’t find her attractive. She doesn’t really mind. He’s not cruel, and a lot of the time it really is just as he calls it – play. It’s a game he is very good at, even just with a slave like her. She can understand why he paid to have her tongue pierced, if it feels as good on his cock as his own does against her clit, or run around the rim of her pussy, or her ass. The bar through the head of his cock, too, always seems to hit in just the right spots inside her. He seems to know her body better than she does. He pushes her limits. “Don’t be scared,” he laughs, “you’re going to like this.” And he’s right – the cuffs, the ties, toys and gels and drugs, the little games of pretend.
He lets her be in charge too, sometimes. Sort of – even when she has him trussed up and squirming, crop in hand while she fucks him in the ass with one of the larger strap-on phalli from his collection, he seems to guide her, with a look, or the way he moves against her. She is still a slave, and of course it crosses her mind on occasion just what she might do to the man who owns her while she has him at her mercy. It never seems quite worth following though; she knows she has a good gig.
