[ Sylvain had drifted off on one of the lounge chairs under the large umbrellas, unaware that that might not be the best idea. It had looked like a comfy bit of shade, a respite from the bright sunlight, despite there being no actual sun. It had been enough to lull him into a doze, and then a much deeper slumber to the sound of waves.
He's not aware of someone settling down in the chair beside him, or the eyes that watch him for a while with a possessive light in them, until they, too, slide shut and his unseen companion slips into shared sleep.
All he knows is his hazy dreams start to shift. Change. Take a shape of their own and some part of him should find that strange, but he doesn't. It feels like this is supposed to happen, that this is perfectly normal. Even when the world shifts from a fabricated beach into a different scene entirely. Although he can still hear the ocean waves from here. Blinks hazy eyes open to see it, out a large window although it looks... different.
He stares at it, though, mind empty and drifting, even though he should be confused. Some part of him is, but another part of him just accepts that this is reality. Just like he doesn't question the hands on his skin, unfamiliar and harsh as he's stripped of his clothing and pushed to his knees on the rough tiled floor. The clothing he's left with is scant and sheer - barely considered clothing, really, and leaving very almost nothing to the imagination.
His arms are bound behind his back and his legs are spread and also bound in place, leaving him uncomfortably stretched open and exposed. Teetering slightly. Although it doesn't occur to him to resist, to struggle, to pull away. Some part of his mind is shifting with the scenery, the scenario being set up around him. He belongs here now. On his knees. At someone else's whim. His freedom is a thing long gone.
And as if to emphasize that, a thick collar is fitted about his throat and fastened in place, tight and snug, something he feels with every swallow, with every breath. Breaths which come faster now, a hint of panic creeping up over him as his head spins. Confusion and trepidation. Unease... for what he doesn't know, but he can feel whatever - whoever? - it is growing closer. His time is up. ]
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timeasmymeasure
Beach Prompt: ParaSol Possession CW: dark themes, dubcon, d/s, sex prisoner, general nsfw
Date: 2024-06-16 01:22 am (UTC)He's not aware of someone settling down in the chair beside him, or the eyes that watch him for a while with a possessive light in them, until they, too, slide shut and his unseen companion slips into shared sleep.
All he knows is his hazy dreams start to shift. Change. Take a shape of their own and some part of him should find that strange, but he doesn't. It feels like this is supposed to happen, that this is perfectly normal. Even when the world shifts from a fabricated beach into a different scene entirely. Although he can still hear the ocean waves from here. Blinks hazy eyes open to see it, out a large window although it looks... different.
He stares at it, though, mind empty and drifting, even though he should be confused. Some part of him is, but another part of him just accepts that this is reality. Just like he doesn't question the hands on his skin, unfamiliar and harsh as he's stripped of his clothing and pushed to his knees on the rough tiled floor. The clothing he's left with is scant and sheer - barely considered clothing, really, and leaving very almost nothing to the imagination.
His arms are bound behind his back and his legs are spread and also bound in place, leaving him uncomfortably stretched open and exposed. Teetering slightly. Although it doesn't occur to him to resist, to struggle, to pull away. Some part of his mind is shifting with the scenery, the scenario being set up around him. He belongs here now. On his knees. At someone else's whim. His freedom is a thing long gone.
And as if to emphasize that, a thick collar is fitted about his throat and fastened in place, tight and snug, something he feels with every swallow, with every breath. Breaths which come faster now, a hint of panic creeping up over him as his head spins. Confusion and trepidation. Unease... for what he doesn't know, but he can feel whatever - whoever? - it is growing closer. His time is up. ]