Kinktober Day 9: Lingerie, Bondage

Done as part of a collab with @hyperiontrashbin!

“You really thought I’d be that easy to take down, huh?” Jack chuckled right in front of his desk, working the jet black crop over in his gloved hands. “You could just come along and overthrow the big guy, huh? A little upstart like you?”

Rhys remained on his knees, mouth moving only to lick the skin of his dry, bloody lips. His eyes remained defiant, even as they glistened with unwilling tears—though Jack hand’t got him full-on crying yet, he’d managed to squeeze out a bit through the lashing of his crop. Rhys’ body was covered with marks and bruises now, from his bare thighs all the way up to his chest and shoulders. He looked perfect, especially where the yellow of the lingerie Jack’d forced him in stained red.

“Hopefully now you’ve learned your place…though if you need a little more help, I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at you again.” Jack snapped the stem of the crop against his palm, the walls of his office reverberating with the sharp noise. Rhys flinched at the sound, as if expecting a blow. Jack only laughed.

“Good, Rhysie. You’re figuring it out. It’ll  be much easier for you if you respect daddy from here on out.” Jack leaned back against his desk, pushing his feet off the floor to sit atop it. He kept his thighs spread, pointing the crop down until the tip touched the side of Rhys’ cheek. “Now up, sugar. Show me how sorry you are.”

Jack had already screwed Rhys once, just after he’d bound his wrists, collared his neck, and snapped the lingerie onto him. The evidence still dripped down his thighs as he pushed himself shakily to his feet without use of his hands. Jack leaned back against the desk, watching with a smirk as Rhys eased himself up. Jack lead him forward with the movement of the crop, sliding it from the other CEO’s cheek to his chin as Rhys hobbled closer.

“Beautiful. You’re doing wonderful, pumpkin.” Jack set the crop besides him on the desk, instead grabbing for the end of Rhys’ lead and pulling him even closer. “Don’t be too beat up about this. Every CEO worth his salt is gonna have to learn to deal with…setbacks.”

Rhys’ lip twitched as Jack pulled him closer, until he stood between his spread legs, close enough to kiss. Jack quickly closed the meager distance between them, tasting Rhys’ bloodied mouth as his legs curled around Rhys’ waist, brushing up against the limp lace of the lingerie. He reached down with his other hand to pluck at the silky straps laid tight around Rhys’ skin, finally drawing a hiss of pain from him as he snapped it back against his flayed hip.

“You really are prettiest like this…” Jack murmured as his fingers slid to Rhys’ crotch, pleased to find his cock half-hard. A-hah. He didn’t hate this as much as he seemed, then.

“You ever considered giving up this whole Atlas game, sugar, and working for me? You’d be such a wonderful pet,” Jack hissed, amused when he saw Rhys’ eyes grow wide. With horror or consideration, it didn’t matter. Jack worked his fingers harder against Rhys’ cock, bringing it fully hard.

“Think about it,” Jack purred against the other CEO’s cracked lips as he stroked him off. “Who knows, this might help convince you.”

Kinktober Day 8: Angry Sex/Hate-fucking

It had, like most of their arguments, started off because of something stupid.

Jack had noticed a few days back, as he scrolled through Rhys’ newest catalogue, that the design for the Atlas Titanium looked eerily similar to a gun of his still within the prototype stage. But of course, when confronted, Rhys frikkin’ denied it like the liar he was!

“Just admit it, pumpkin. It’s obvious to anyone with two functioning eyes!” Jack growled, furrowing his eyebrows as Rhys turned away. “Maybe you need to get those cybernetics of yours checked out if you can’t see it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys replied smoothly, though he looked back to Jack, clearly annoyed. “It’s not my fault that you’re designs are so unoriginal, they can easily be replicated. Maybe trying wracking your pea-brain a little harder next time, if you want to—“

Jack’s hands grabbed Rhys tight by the shoulders, forcing the CEO to turn all the way back around before Jack slammed him hard against the wall. Rhys choked on a gasp, eyes flying open in pain and surprise before narrowing in anger. He struggled, trying to bring his heels up to rake down Jack’s calves but the older man pressed too close, jamming a thigh between Rhys’ legs just enough to unbalance him.

“Fuck, you fucking asshole—“ Rhys swore a moment before Jack pressed a harsh kiss to his lips, tongue immediately invading the inside of Rhys’ mouth. He struggled beneath Jack’s bulk, inadvertently rubbing his groin against the broad thigh stuck between his legs.

“What do I keep telling you about your language, pumpkin?” Jack growled as he pulled away, leaving only a humid inch or so between their panting mouths. “You don’t wanna piss me off even more do you?”

“G-Go fuck yourself,” Rhys hissed, earning himself a sharp bite to the neck. The groan of pain was music to Jack’s ears.

“Careful…” Jack smacked his lips, spreading the taste of blood all around his mouth. “Should you really be testing me when I’ve got you cornered like this?”

Rhys struggled as Jack pressed closer, though might of the fight had dried up within him. He still glared at Jack with defiance, but tilted his neck up as Jack went in for another bite.

“This’ll teach you to come up with your own frikkin’ ideas, pumpkin…and quit stealing from your betters.” Jack grabbed at the top of Rhys’ collar, pulling the gold buttons out of their loops to expose more skin, ripe for marking. Rhys arched his spine, the hard-on bulging out of his pants rutting against Jack’s thigh.

“Y-You know what they say….imitation is the greatest form of flattery…” Rhys moaned as Jack slid his hands about his waist, mouth now nibbling along the plane of his collarbone.

“I think I’d rather have you on your knees, flattering my frikkin’ dick.” Jack licked lustfully over the warm bites on Rhys’ chest, his hands sliding around and down Rhys’ back until he could roughly grab at his ass. He rutted viciously forward, keeping Rhys hopelessly stuck between his protruding thigh and groping hands. The other CEO moaned and tossed his head to the side, his neck already a mess of red bruises and glistening teethmarks.

Rhys orgasmed before Jack even got his dick out, not that Jack was about to let him get away with one. He kept Rhys facing forward, wanting to see his expression. He ripped the young man’s pants down his legs before stripping him off his underwear. He dragged one of Rhys’ legs up around his hip, leaving him to shakily stand on the other as he thrust his cock into the waiting hole.

By the time Jack came Rhys was sobbing, pleasure from the depth of his cock and pain at his speed, an utter wreck as Jack held him around the waist, now supporting the weight not held by the wall behind them. Jack pulled out roughly, watching his cum trickle down the shaking thighs of his rival.

“That’ll teach you….you little thief…” Jack growled in Rhys’ ear before he pulled away, though the dazed expression on the young man’s face looked far more pleased than Jack would’ve liked.

“Oh, yes sir,” Rhys panted through a smile as he slumped against the wall. “Wouldn’t want something like this happening again.”

lunarmoment:

theinformationdump:

Body Language Cheat Sheet for Writers

As described by Selnick’s article:

Author and doctor of clinical psychology Carolyn Kaufman has released a one-page body language cheat sheet of psychological “tells” (PDF link) fiction writers can use to dress their characters.

Because I realize all my characters do is look at each other and have their eyebrows shoot up. Sometimes they even lower their eyebrows too!

Kinktober Day 8: Sex Work

Tim had never been to the opera before. Much less in a private box.

But considering he wasn’t the one footing the bill, he tried not to let it bother him. No, instead he tried just to sit pretty and poised in the suite he’d been given at the beginning of this “date.”

“Are you enjoying the show, darling?” A now-familiar, posh voice to his right spoke as a slim hand came to rest on his thigh. Tim shivered at the slight scrape of those long blue nails against the fabric of his dress pants, his attention shifting from the singers on-stage to the woman sitting beside him.

Aurelia looked beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Honestly, Tim wondered how someone as plain as him could’ve attracted the attention of such a wealthy, magnificent alpha. There were plenty of other omegas at the agency he considered far more eye-catching then himself, yet Aurelia had picked him out of the bunch, even with his messy hair and excess of freckles, to accompany her. He shyly smiled, not even trying to hide his blush. He couldn’t help it—her icy blue eyes ignited pleasant feelings in his stomach, and though he knew she’d only paid for his services through dinner and a show, he secretly hoped she’d choose to add onto their evening. The hand that rubbed sensually up and down his thigh seemed promising, as did the powerful scent beginning to creep over her cloud of perfume.

“You really are a charming, handsome young man, aren’t you Timothy?” Aurelia growled, her nails digging slightly into the meat of his leg. Tim bit his lip, his stomach doing a flip-flop inside of him. The warbling of the singers on-stage started to blend together, irrelevant under the interested tone of Aurelia’s voice.

“Do…do you really think so…?” He mustered after a moment, squirming in his seat as he felt a slight twitch in his pants. He pulled his teeth against his lower lip, knowing if he started getting slick it would be over for the both of them. Neither would be able to resist.

“Of course, darling. You’re so…earnest. And so very humble.” Aurelia leaned in, bright blue stole falling slightly against her chest. “Much better than some of the omegas I’ve taken out.”

“O-Oh, well…thank you…” Tim’s breath caught in his throat as the hand on his thigh lifted, this time coming to rest on the bulge of his crotch. “Um…”

“I think I’ll be adding onto your time. And don’t worry dear, no one will notice us.” Her red lips pulled in a lusty grin, eyes flitting sideways. “That Hyperion bastard and his brat might hear us in the box over but…well, I don’t much care about what they think.”

Tim didn’t know either of those people, but with Aurelia’s hand where he needed it most and tens of feet above the audience, their eyes already focused on the show on stage, he couldn’t muster up much reason to deny her.

Kinktober Day 8: Blood/Gore

Tim and Jack are like…chupacabra dudes or something? I just didn’t want to do vampires cause they’re boring. 

It’d been quite awhile before Jack had preyed on someone that smelled this sweet.

Though aggravated he had to share his prize with Timothy, it did little to damper his hunger as they dragged the struggling victim off into the park bushes. The moonlight cast long shadows against the grass, providing plenty of cover for the two of them so they could properly feed. Not that there was anybody inside of the park anyway—this young man had been the first human they’d seen in several hours.

Tim clamped a clawed hand over their prey’s lips, his other arm wrapped tight around his chest and pinning his arms to his sides. Jack crawled up between the young man’s legs, knees crushing the dry leaves beneath them as he admired the length of pale skin revealed by bright blue jogging shorts.

“Oh, he’s pretty,” Jack purred, licking his long teeth as he placed his hands against their prey’s legs, pushing them down towards the grass. “Good job, Timmy. You can have the neck first.”

The young man bucked at Jack’s words, struggling as Tim pulled the collar of his shirt down, exposing more flesh. The terror in his eyes was tangible, only sharpening Jack’s hunger as he laid down on his stomach, head between the boy’s legs.

“His heart’s beating so fast,” Tim murmured as his gums pulled back, fangs curling out over his lip, “don’t drain him too quickly.”

“Ooh, it’s gonna be hard with how sweet he smells.” Jack nuzzled against their prey’s inner thigh, feeling the tantalizing pulse of blood against his lips. He felt it when Tim finally bit into the boy’s neck, iron scent pricking at Jack’s nose just as a strangled moan of pain kissed his ears. He licked his lips and opened his mouth, fangs out and starving for blood.

He pressed his teeth against the soft flesh of their victim’s inner thigh, easily penetrating into the soft flesh. He moaned as the taste of blood flooded his mouth, so sweet and thick as it spilled over his tongue. Pain twitched through the boy’s legs even as Jack kept them pinned to the grass, any resistance easily quelled by the two bloodsuckers as they drank their fill.

Jack left one large, gory bite mark on the boy’s thigh before switching to the other, until matching splotches of red colored both legs. He lapped the remaining droplets of blood from his lips, looking up to see Timothy still latched onto their prey’s neck. The young man’s head had long listed to the side, his sunken eyelids twitching. Jack sat up, pressing a hand against Timothy’s face until he dislodged his fangs from their prey’s neck.

“H-Hey, what’s the big idea? I’m not done yet,” Timothy whined and wiped his mouth as Jack carefully took the limp body of their victim from him. Jack could feel the pulse if lifeblood still inside him—diminished but not quite dying.

Usually, Jack would be content to suck their targets dry, but he felt an odd attachment to this one. Maybe because he was cute, maybe because his blood had tasted especially good. Either way, plans were stirring in Jack’s head, plans that required their prey to stay alive.

“You’ll get more later, once he’s all healed up…” Jack purred, stroking his clawed hands over the pale, still-warm skin of the young man’s face. “He’s gonna be coming home with us.”