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36 / m / all / 7 of ♠️ > Q of ♠️
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Have you ever dreamed of being wooed by a knight in shining armor? Well Captain fon Ronsenburg is your man. Literally. He prefers being attached to a commander, queen, charge, or leash. Rules are sexy, and he's here to be your loyal dog.
Dark and broody your thing? He's got that too, a whole lifetime of unfair, unjustified angst and suffering he's just waiting for you to fix. Don't worry, though. He's the whole package. Tender, caring, and likely to fall in love with you but keep it private until you order him to spill his desires. Which turns him on.
Oh, did we mention he's a horny slut? Because he is. He wants to take it every possible way, or be told how you want to be taken. And if you make it public or humiliate him a little, well, his lance will be all the happier to see you.
Protecting the innocent, being used by the worthy, and being absolutely sexually exhausted at all times. It's his heroic reward, afterall.
Basch was already like this at home. He's quite experienced in receiving and administering pleasure, particularly of the rougher variety. He's also happy to teach.
Someone teach this man how to relax. He needs it. His palette is rustic and that's a good place to start. If you get him dancing, the gods will smile in your favor.
Someone who roughs him up, tells him what to do, and then sings sweet praises in his ear.
BEER
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
NEITHER
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
BATHS ARE HIS GUILTY PLEASURE
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
PIRATES, THE ONES HE KNOWS ARE QUITE NICE
.05 TITS OR ASS
GOD YES
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
EITHER
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
EITHER
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
EITHER
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
BOTH
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
ROUGH ROUGH ROUGH BUT GET THAT MAN TO ACCEPT GENTLE
ISFJ-T
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so, despite that clumsy feeling he still has, he can settle into a comfortable pace. still slow, but it's as he gets his bearings rather than any hesitation on his part. at least, until hands slide up to his chest to tug a chain, resulting in a marked jolt of the priest's hips.]
Haauh—I—
[he isn't sure if that's permission to speak or if Sylvain is just teasing since they both know he can read every reaction Olivine makes... but he can't cease that breathless noise in any case. his eyes and his tone answer wordlessly—he does want more, yes.
hips box him in and that's enough to keep him anchored, pressed forward and allowed back. the movements are ultimately his own, a little more stuttery than Sylvain's as he pulls back because God, that is a lot of sensation he isn't used to.]
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His unknown partner is not particularly large nor aggressive, and that's it's own teasing. He enters slow, steady, enough to stimulate him but not enough to overwhelm, fanning his heat slowly.
Then there's a sound and Basch cries out in turn, body clenching around the sudden jolt. And he has no doubt how that happened. ]
Sylvain, be gentle with him.
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You're not supposed to be the one giving the orders right now, remember? [ It's said with obvious teasing, not wanting Basch to take that seriously either. But also he had been being gentle. Mostly. ] Someone is just deliciously sensitive.
[ And they both should know him well enough by now that he's terrible at resisting temptation.
Still, his hands go back to sliding over Olivine's skin as he rocks him forward again, still guiding that motion. Setting the pace even though it is Olivine's cock pressing into Basch and not his own. ]
But that just makes this all the more fun. Especially since i can tease both of you at the same time, this way.
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They both know intimately how sensitive he is, after all... which Sylvain brings up succinctly and prompts a soft, almost answering hum from Olivine. He'd actually say so, but—
Really, he's not sure what keeps him from breaking the rule: Sylvain's actual order and his wanting to be obedient, or the fact that Basch is plainly enjoying this. Would it still feel like "using" him if he knew?
Either way, he's definitely still being good, following Sylvain's movements (partly because he just likes the way his hips feel against his ass, thank you) and only giving a brief pout at the confirmation that he's just teasing both of them. Honestly, this is worse than when he's tied up and can't do anything.]
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And Sylvain's reaction is only encouraging. ]
Are you going to punish me?
[ He moans again, though, as Olivine rocks in, and at Sylvain's admission this is double teasing. Being used like that certainly does something for him, and he expects he won't be given actual relief for a little while yet. ]
I'm...more patient than you...sweet.
[ Even if he's starting to pant. ]
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[ You're the one in the stocks, after all.
But that grin in his voice lingers, even as he slides his hands up to tease over Olivine's ribs, then drifting to both of his nipples, playing and tugging and twisting as he rocks his hips forward again. A little sharper this time. ]
Mmm, it seems our pretty pet is still thinking too much. We should do something about that, hmm?
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Those thoughts are abruptly interrupted by Sylvain's hands, drifting up to tease his nipples and pulling another sharp groan from him in turn. It's in time with the sharper buck of those hips too, seeing him jolting in turn, hips slapping against Basch's.
Thinking too much, he says, and the priest has to take a moment to try and wrack his brain for a nonverbal answer. What would he want if he was going to stop thinking...? The shift of hips is clear enough, but—his fingers shift, trembling in his sensitivity as his whole body wants to squirm at the teasing.
And, quite abruptly, he lets them dig into the blond's hips, gripping firmly to pull them into his thrusts, shifting to try and find just the right spot.
... it really is much harder when he's not using his fingers.]
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Something about being called our pet pulls another moan from him. That Sylvain wants to share, and that this stranger has some ownership, is electric for him. Even before the threat of being silenced registers.
It doesn't matter, because in another moment Olivine is bucking into him, and then hands join it, digging in as his ass meets warm flesh. He arches, moaning lowly as his body tries to meet the movements he can't predict. ]
Yes [ he rasps, more for his unseen partner than Sylvain. His hands clench and unclench, wishing for purchase on something as the sensation increases. ]
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[ He murmurs the soft praise in Olivine's ear, fingers teasing sensitive skin as his lips once more trail kisses down the priest's throat. ]
Just like that. You're doing perfectly. Listen to how he moans for you. How he's already chasing you for more. Make him feel good. Make him beg for you.
[ His eyes are on both of them, the way Basch arches back, the way he clenches around Olivine's cock as he presses in at a new angle. The way Olivine's fingers bite into the soft flesh of his ass, leave the imprint of nails in his skin - something else he knows Basch will love.
This is almost as much fun as fucking either of them himself. ]
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[really, he still feels clumsy. Sylvain says he's doing fine though, and Basch responds encouragingly besides—so he doesn't feel the need to slow down or stop by any means. (even if he's practically squirming with Sylvain still pressed behind him, working up more of his need.)
it's more embarrassing somehow, though. listening to the way the blond moans and feeling how he moves; how he himself would respond, honestly. maybe it's that it feels so... greedy, even though he's giving this for Basch too. for that fact alone he keeps going though, pressing past his instinctive preconceptions.
nails shift and drag, raising soft red welts on tan skin. those he marvels at too, so different from how they look on his own, as his pace picks up—sharper, harder, thighs aching with the unfamiliar movement.]
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And that's before Olivine adds the deep drag of his nails and increased pace. He absolutely keens, cock jumping and hands clenching. There's nothing he can do but try to keep as stable as possible. ]
F-fuck. Fuck Sylvain. If this is...your payback...for your birthday....it's working.
[ And then he's whimpering again, thoughts vanishing. ]
Please...keep going...
[ Which has his gut on fire, heat in his cheeks at following that order, but wanting his unknown partner to know Sylvain is right. He does want this. ]
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[ That smile is only growing more and more audible in his voice as he rocks again, making sure Olivine has a good grasp on the pace he wants him to maintain. That he will keep chasing both their pleasures, even if Sylvain can feel the way he stutters over the movements. Which is surprising - Olivine had never struck him as particularly shy or uncertain when they've fucked. But this is a new scenario, and maybe he's not so comfortable in a more dominant position like this. Even if Sylvain is still calling the shots.
So he does what he can to reassure him, gives him a pattern to follow, a guiding hand on his hip as he lets him fall into the rhythm of it. Only when he's certain Olivine is okay with it does he finally shift out from behind him. ]
Keep doing that. Just like that. But no coming yet, my pets. We're not ready for that just yet.
[ Just to be extra frustrating here.
He steps around to the front of the stocks again, bringing himself back into Basch's line of sight - and Olivine's, as well - as he smirks down at the blond and tangles his fingers into tousled blond hair. Tipping Basch's flushed face back towards him so he can drink in the hunger written in his expression. ]
I hadn't thought of that, actually, but I suppose this is a good start of it, hmm? You so enjoyed the experience, after all, it's only fair you get to enjoy both sides of it. Now open that pretty mouth for me, hmm?
[ he slides his hand into his own swim trunks, wrapping it around his own erection and stroking once, twice, before drawing it out to slide the tip against the man's lips. His eyes flit between Basch and Olivine, constantly assessing both of them, making sure they're still comfortable, even as he tries to orchestrate this in a way they'll all enjoy. ]
I'm sure you can manage to pleasure us both, can you not?
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still, there's a soft, bitten-off whine when Sylvain moves away from him finally, warm air not enough for his skin. it's alongside the absent nod he gives at Sylvain's orders, keeping that same pace, his thumbs press more gently into the curve of Basch's hip, soothing the rougher pressure of his fingers holding the blond in place. not coming... he can manage it for now, at least. there's so much to be overwhelmed by that he's not actually in danger of it yet.
teeth press to his lip in absent thought, as the taller two continue their conversation, a marvel he feels almost like an intruder for. he's not, obviously, but the priest's experiences with multiple partners are... very, very limited still. all of his thoughts are a little disjointed with the sensations, too, so perhaps he feels a little less out of place now compared to before.
the reality is that he's probably not going to completely lose that sort of unsure touch, for reasons Sylvain hasn't come to just yet. but he's comfortable enough, especially with Basch's encouragements leading him on, and the faintly devious intent to make the man squirm and struggle a little doesn't pass him, because he's sure he'd enjoy it. once he finds it, he can tease his prostate at unpredictable intervals, leaning forward without someone to lean back into.
again, he's not entirely sure which of them Sylvain is speaking to in that moment. Basch would presumably make the most sense since the blond is secured enough that he'd be hard to move to assist in pleasuring Sylvain, but there's also the fact that Olivine's pleasure is mostly his own doing... but it doesn't matter, he supposes. if he's doing something wrong, he'll be corrected, because that's sort of their dynamic too.]
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Then Sylvain's back in his view, hand in his hair in the commanding way he likes, and the undignified sound of want he makes is surprising even to him. His mind almost can't process how good the stimulation in his ass feels while seeing Sylvain's face from this angle, and he shudders, body aching to hold the other while he can do nothing but brace himself. And then Olivine hits his prostate, and he whimpers, eyes clamping shut and knees nearly buckling.
He manages to open them in time to see Sylvain reaching into his swim shorts, and his mouth falls open in want, no longer even concerned with trying to measure if his reactions are reasonable. This is going to break him, and he has never wanted to be broken more. ]
Use me [ he manages to plead breathlessly, a confirmation as much as an invitation. And then, his entire body on fire, eyes lock on Sylvain as he squirms and stumbles against another jab to his prostate, he parts his lips wide, fingers reaching helplessly for the warm flesh he knows so well. ]
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He just hopes Olivine will be able to enjoy himself just as much - the priest looks a little distracted by the sensations, which again strikes Sylvain as strange, considering how their interactions go. He'd missed a step here, he thinks, but he doesn't know what step it was. Something he was going to have to investigate after this.
But right now, he keeps the pace moving, smirking fondly down into Basch's upturned face, dark eyes drinking in the sight of his flushed skin and lust-dazed gaze. The way his parted lips are already ready, greedy for what he knows what Sylvain will gives him. Body reaching, fingers straining to touch, even if the stocks keep him fully pinned in place. It means Sylvain can completely control the amount he gives the blond and he does it in deliberately slow increments. Shifting close enough that Basch can only wrap his lips around the tip of him, and even then, keeping it a pull against his restraints. Knowing it will have him tightening even further around Olivine as his body strains. ]
I intend to, pet. But you're going to be good and tight around our friend, aren't you? You're going to make him come before I give you what you want. I told him he couldn't talk, but I want you to make him moan.
[ There's wicked mischief in his eyes as he holds Olivine's gaze over Basch's back, playful smile curving on his lips. He reaches out with the hand that isn't still wrapped around his cock, playfully tugging on one of those chains dangling from the priest's pierced nipples, knowing how sensitive he always is. ]
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Mmnh—
[His eyes don't widen as much as they might have with someone else. Olivine knows Sylvain, after all, even before the fact that he hasn't been making the effort easy. Basch will be able to guess how he feels about that easily, given the way his cock twitches and throbs at the idea.
Olivine did say he really liked it when he was "forced" to endure pleasure, after all.
Speaking of: his pace hitches briefly as Sylvain reaches to tug on a chain, biting back the urge to squirm as the tug only further reddens his skin and teases the nubs to (even more) puffy arousal. Another groan escapes, naturally, breathless and remarkably needy... for Basch not knowing who he is, that is. His gaze stays on Sylvain's, distraction frolicking there as every sensation rolls through him.
Truthfully? He's probably a lot closer than Sylvain is calculating, given the fact that there's no way he's going to be able to hold back when he already has so many rules and instructions to focus on.]
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The other sounds like he's enjoying it too, and Basch does what he can to stay clenched, meeting the increasingly jagged strokes with his own rocking as he searches for more groans. It's getting difficult on tired legs, and his breath grows uneven. His cock aches, begging for release, and he feels tears from exertion budding at the edges of his eyes. He's not sure he's ever been pushed this far, and certainly not in a circumstance that still was, ultimately, crafted with such affection. ]
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[ That was aimed at both of them as he watches them with dark, hungry eyes. Enjoying the flush of pleasure, the need in their own expressions, their movements.
He can feel the strain in Basch between them and gives him what he wants, pressing deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. He rocks, sliding against the man’s tongue. Matching his movements to the thrust of Olivine’s hips so they’re both filling him deep, from either end.
As for Olivine, he gives that chain another tug, drawing him in closer over Basch’s back as he fucks him, even as he leans in to kiss him there, holding him as if he’s leashed by his piercings. His lips still curved in a smirk. ]
If you want to come, Basch, you can after you’ve made our friend do so, and not before. Once you feel him spill inside of you, you have my permission to follow.
[ Because he recognized the timbre of those moans too well - from both of them. He knows exactly how close they both are. ]
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and his cock twitches as the redhead tugs his chain again, moan muted into the kiss, a familiar little shimmer built up in his eyes. fingers squeeze in something like reassurance—not that he can't tell he's close, probably, but that's hardly the point.
when he does finally spill, absent any orders not to, the priest will absolutely reach down to curl his fingers around the blond's cock. mostly to help him get a little more relief—but admittedly, part of him revels in the thought of having that much control in driving him to his release.]
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And then he feels them both shift, is aware they're kissing above him, and gods why is that so arousing? Why are the hands at his side oddly familiar? His mind could work it out if it weren't so occupied.
He groans harder as he feels the heat of release filling him, chased by the heat of being so publicly used. It's enough that he's already so close. But he isn't expecting a hand to come curl around him, not still filled at both ends, and his sounds turn to a whimper, hips shifting to thrust against that blessed, teasing stimulation, hands scrabbling to hold onto anything.
It takes so little before he's spilling too, whining around Sylvain's cock, hot tears trailing down his face as he struggles to pull breath through his nose. He can't think, can hardly tell if he's still up right, and gods he doesn't actually want it to end. ]
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His fingers drop to wipe those tears away with a soft murmur, knowing it's likely more from overstimulation than anything negative. His touch turns soothing, even as he pulls out of Basch's mouth, pauses to tuck his cock away before his hands return to soothing over both their flushed skin, quietly checking in on both of them. ]
You did so good for me. Both of you. Beautiful. [ He knows Basch sometimes has difficulty with that word, but he speaks it all the same, because it's the truth.
Casting a playful wink at Olivine now as the priest catches his breath. ] Think you can stay upright while I get him free? Oh, and you can talk now. [ He leans in to emphasize that permission given with a kiss and a quiet chuckle before he bends to try and figure out how to get Basch out of this contraption.
And if the bird brains have a problem with that, they can come go through him. ]
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And then, as Sylvain wipes away tears and tucks himself away, Olivine's hands turn similarly soothing, gently rubbing over his sides and spine as he eases out of the blond. Naturally he flushes gently at the praise, head ducking lightly and lips curling into a smile.]
Ah—mmn... [He's interrupted from tucking himself back in by the kiss, leaning in easily.]
I'll be fine. I was starting to think you were really trying to make me fail, though.
[His voice is soft and warm, the touch of strain in it plain enough. It's funny, really. He's ridden people before, but actually doing it like this? It feels so much more exhausting somehow.
Anyway, he'll step out of the way to let Sylvain work, peering over the pillory to see if he can find the way it's opened. If it came down to it, he's pretty sure he could just break it without hurting Basch, but...]
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Except -- he groans in protest as Sylvain pulls away, unable to hold the other there. They'd both finished; Sylvain had not. His tongue was thick and lazy though, stumbling in his mouth and licking over swollen lips, even as his addled gaze looked up to Sylvain, leaning into the tenderness of those tears being wiped away. Just checking on him, surely?
The cock leaves his ass, and there's more soothing touch, and some traitorous part of him wants to just succumb to the sweetness of this, but it's not fair. He hasn't -- he should reciprocate -- be properly used --
Olivine's voice cuts through any coherent thought. Embarrassment and warmth wash through him in equal but conflicting measures. The other understands these tastes, at least; there's no shame there. But -- he doesn't think that's the role Olivine prefers to be in.
But it's too much thinking for his tired brain, and the next thing he knows, they're both extracting him from the pillory. His limbs are gelatin, and much to his dismay, he trembles and slumps against the familiar warmths, body aching and still very much stark naked. ]
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[ His voice is quiet and soothing as he helps Basch straighten up and curls an arm around his waist to help support him against his side. The man staggers and he knows he must be disoriented after how intense that had been. After a moment of consideration, however, he scoops him up in his arms instead, rather than trying to make him walk anywhere. ]
You met and surpassed all my expectations beautifully, Olivine. I wasn't worried at all. [ He grins and leans over to kiss the priest briefly, even though he can feel the way Basch curls into him, the heat flushing his skin. Aftershocks of pleasure or embarrassment? Maybe a little of both? ]
Come on, let's go find one of those big loungers. I think you both could use a few moments of quiet to recover. And can you find me a towel, Oli?
[ He has no idea what they might have done with the swim trunks Basch had been wearing earlier. he may have to go beat up a bird for a replacement pair. Or maybe he just really wants an excuse to beat them up in general for doing this to Basch in the first place. As fun as it had been.
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And if I had failed? [he's maybe a little surprised by the kiss, given their situations, but leans in without hesitation. not that Olivine has ever actually failed when Sylvain hadn't been pushing him directly to do so, but he's gotten to the point where he can be a little cheeky anyway.] I'll go find one. They keep a lot of them around, I think.
[his attention turns to Basch fully then, a warm smile on his lips as he squeezes where his hand still holds. then he shifts to leave them for a moment and find a towel, not at all worried about finding them again once he does.]
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