[sunlight shimmers across the water as the boat approaches its secluded island destination. Olivine can't help but find it soothing, at least cubist to everything that led up to this moment. Harsh words and stern tones still echo in his mind—not new, but never quite losing their sting. At least this will give you a chance to honor us. Maybe they can teach you the obedience we never could—
The sea breeze ruffles the many layers of his outfit, causing coins to jingle and green and white to flicker between golden accents. It's enough to bring his thoughts back to the moment, brushing a lock of hair behind an ear as his gaze turns to the port they're nearing. Now, he supposes he should go through the bits and pieces of information he has about this balmy, beautiful isle.
Which... he has to admit isn't all that much. The texts governing this place are few and far between, and they speak in cryptic warnings about the hardships and dangers of being lesser in this society. Slaves, pets—it should frighten him, perhaps, to think that's the role he'll be placed in. Instead, he finds himself tentatively intrigued by the prospect.
Sometimes, freedom bears a chain of its own, he thinks. Hopes, anyway. As a young man trained to perform, kept away from normal society at length, he can only guess what they might expect of him here. They were right, though. Depending on those whims, this place might just suit him well despite his uncertain position.]
[ At times, it’s difficult to remember life before he came here. Failed, disgraced — this was a punishment he would bear no matter the cost.
No one here remembers what he was. Few outside this place would either. Here, against all reason, he has become everything his heart was not: wealthy, indulgent, even cruel.
It is a secret he guards as carefully has his past. A facade built from the moment he realized his role here. There were those who came here who has no business being here, and yet no other hope. And he was in a unique position to shield them, sometimes to even smuggle them away. His position of leadership here meant he knew who was going too far as well, could quietly have masters change or pressure the worst offenders off the isle.
Everyone knew there was a prized new pet arriving. A political token, and a man so beautiful Basch knew many would find him in their tastes. From what he knew of the Church, this man would have been sheltered, socially less aware. It was a recipe for a nightmare.
So Basch made sure he greased the wheels. Talked up his taste in beautifully, robust, large-chested men with dancer qualities. How much he’d want to use and corrupt this pure innocent lamb. And then he’d made sure to be the one to win his contract.
So when the boat comes to the harbor, basch is there in the front, in rich fabrics that show off sun-tanned skin, healthy muscles, and sun-streaked golden hair. He smells of smoke and tropical flowers, rings on his fingers and jewels on his neck. Power he has learned to perform over the years.
And when the man walks down the plank, he will grin and growl ] That one is mine.
[they've certainly sheltered him—the attempt was made to shelter him from everything, in fact. but if that had worked, perhaps he wouldn't be here today. there certainly wouldn't have been the undercurrent of hope for some kind of positive outcome.
of course, in the same way that they've shielded him from any knowledge of what's to come, who he's been auctioned off to, the entire island has been shielded from just what a perfect pet he could be. an embarrassment, sent off to distant shores for redemption where "redemption" had no soft face. and yet he finds himself intrigued, even excited.
Basch isn't hard to spot in a crowd, and perhaps the thing Olivine finds most surprising is how close to the front he is. naturally, as one of the most powerful men in the land, there's no shortage of lore and history written about him. cruel, indulgent—the thought makes his heart flutter when matched with his visage. he's gorgeous, after all, absolutely befitting of his station; sun-kissed skin feels a pure contrast to his own milk-white, and it accents everything about him that settles squarely in the priest's own tastes.
he's saved from any wandering thoughts and the pounding in his chest by the older man speaking, though.]
Ah? [it's such an absent little sound in response to those words, cheeks already slightly flushed (though one could pass that off as due to the sun on the trip). a young dancer from a church wasn't the sort of man he expected this man to show any interest in.
his surprise doesn't last long, though. he's a good boy, after all. after a cursory scan of the crowd, jealousy and envy on their faces that never really register as what they are, he offers a soft smile and a polite bow, not stiff but certainly traditional to his homeland, emphasising the twinkling shuffle of jewelry. granted, he'd rather it be traditional to this island, but that hadn't been something he'd found in his research. beyond that sound, he doesn't speak yet. isn't sure if he's allowed, really. pets are rarely expected to exercise their voices, aren't they?]
[ He doesn’t frown or react at all — a feat that took him several years to learn.
Usually newcomers protested, or boasted to cover up discomfort. What had they taught this man, this nearly boy still, that he was so ready to be submissive? Perhaps Basch’s reputation was even worse outside the island where there was little to compare him to.
And gods above this beautiful dancer is going to be in danger here. The contracts prevent others from bedding them against their will, but if he can be tricked, it will still be a threat. Beautiful, polished, polite — he is a rarity here, among men at least, and will fit many of their unsated tastes regardless of is own. If he even has his own. Basch has rescued more than one cut from the cloth of no desire at all. They were some of his happiest companions, and he missed a few dearly.
He knows his role now, though, knows the script to follow. He also is eyeing that pale skin with the protectiveness of a father, aware there will be sun burn and heat sickness if they linger.
So he grins, making a point of eye contact with the more envious members of the crowd, as he draws a collar from a pocket. Thin, adorned with clinking coins that match the dancer’s aesthetic — thank you for the research to his dear friend and head “servant” — and steps forward to clasp it around the man’s neck. ]
With this, the contract is sealed, and you are mine until it is fulfilled.
[ It is not just a formality. There is magic in this place, and the spell is now complete.
But he still needs to sell it to the crowd. He takes the man’s upper arm roughly, noting that despite his elegance, he is a rival for Basch’s physique, likely wider in the chest even if he is narrower in the waist. Not delicate. Good. ]
Out of our way. I am eager to break in my new toy.
[ Several hungers simmer in the crowd and he grins. ]
[He's learned some things, at least. Honestly, being so polite is the easy part—it's by nature, after all. Alongside his curiosity, it shines in the sun.
Which, it turns out, he is surprisingly resilient to—they had provided him with protective creams, layered with magic to protect pale flesh from the sun. It's a different tingle, compared to the tremble of magic through his body when the collar locks on place.
That threatens to make him dizzy for just a moment, as it resonates with the power embedded in his gemstone. Testing, confirming that there is no conflict. His breath hitches in the slightest measure then, and Olivine nods his understanding as the binding magic roots itself in every nerve.
There's another soft noise that escapes him when Basch takes an arm. He does not pull, and that feels... notable somehow? A curious decision. Of course, the older man will be able to feel the shiver his words bring, even if he misreads their origin.
What an exhilarating thought.
Without missing a beat, the dancer's body shifts, snaking its way closer with another pleasant jingle. The strength there under his soft face is not hidden by any intention on the least. Fingers rest on Basch's shoulder, selfishly taking in the swell and curve of muscle, and his gaze shifts away from his new "owner" only briefly to peer over the crowd. It's hard to say if he understands the words he's heard, at first, but he isn't afraid by any means. No, his faint breathlessness is quite the opposite.]
[ Basch entirely misreads it. Why wouldn’t he? While he knows some come here out of interest, they do not come as political prisoners. He hears that breathlessness and only assumes fear.
Perhaps, too, he is blinded by guilt. He thinks he is adding to the man’s fear with his rough and lecherous presentation. It is a necessary evil, and one he has never come to forgive himself for.
So he makes this brief, a possessive arm over Olivine as he leads them through the crowd. The island is not huge, but there is a carriage waiting there, as his manor is in a more desirable and remote place.
The carriage is plush, with equal options for privacy and … exhibition. Basch chooses the former today, not letting on that the seats can open and an assortment of toys and restraints rest inside. No, much the opposite, he leads Olivine in sits him down almost like a child. ]
Sit here, pet. I wish to look at you.
[ Which allows them both some space as he takes the seat opposite. He does dip into a fine cooler set beneath one seat, drawing out an iced drink for his, well, pet. He hates this part too, but it makes things easier later; there is a truth spell brewed into the drink, and a mild one for if not compliance, then suggestibility. Basch can’t take care of anyone if he doesn’t know their needs or limits. ]
Drink. We do not want you wilting in this tropical sun.
[there's curiosity there as Basch guides him through the crowd, though it's shielded somewhat by the mask covering his mouth. they'll find that middle-ground at some point, surely.
sooner than might be a worry, in fact. it isn't Olivine's first time in a carriage, but it's certainly a first for one so... plush and stately. there's a beauty to it he can't quite describe, though he's not that surprised given his lack of understanding about the world in reality. sitting makes that curiosity more plain, though as he's brought to a seat he settles down and nods understanding.]
Ah. [his fingers are delicate when they take the offered drink, his first words soft and calm. if he was frightened before, there's none to be seen now.] Thank you for your concern, though my skin is pale in spite of tropical sun.
[an absent informing, as he lifts the drink to take a sip. it's an unusual trait, certainly; maybe it's related to his gemstone, though the dancer isn't entirely sure anyway. he's not concerned about any spells brewed into the drinks, either, noting only a strange sensation that makes his tongue feel... tingly and impatient, somehow. it's fine, surely.]
I take care of what is mine, [ he says, eyes trained on Olivine as he takes the drink. He is so different from what Basch is used to, and after all this time, different still makes him uneasy. Different means he is not as confident in his ability to serve and protect. ]
Tell me how you are feeling. The sun, your journey, your contract.
[ Straight to business. Finesse takes a good deal of effort, and he's used a lot of it today. ]
[such a small statement shouldn't make his heart flutter so; of course Olivine knows why, after so long, but it still feels like he's reacting too strongly. So he takes another sip of his drink and watches quietly as Basch speaks, nodding.]
The sun and the journey were both pleasant and calm, I would say. It's been quite some time since I was on the water like that. My contract...
[He has to think for a moment then, turning the glass in his hand. How he's feeling about it? Is there a way he's supposed to?]
I'm curious about it. I've read about how this island works, at least as much as I could find on here. I know that I'm to be considered a "pet," but not really what that fully entails.
[ He frowns, freer with his expression now that they are away from the crowd. ]
So your people told you nothing.
Are you aware your duties include performing whatever services I request, domestic and sexual?
[ It used to be harder for him to have this conversation. Practice has helped, as has the potion encouraging the other to answer. It means he does not have to be as skilled in his delivery.
And he will follow up, ] Tell me, then, if you have any particular tastes or limits, or if you do not know. We will amend to contract.
[ This was usually about when his smarter pets started to figure out something was afoot, as masters were not required to care about their pets preferences if they were not put into the contract. ]
The available information is sparse, so I am... perhaps underprepared. [he agrees, glancing away for a moment at his own ineptitude. though really, he's used to that, isn't he...?] I am aware of the scope of my duties, yes. It isn't something I have objections over.
[the first pause, then, is more one of internalised confusion and uncertainty. for so long, he's kept so much to himself, and sharing that information was all but out of the question. and yet, he finds his tongue surprisingly loose regarding them.]
I... I am not sure of my limits, I admit. [amending the contract certainly puts some thoughts in mind. firstly, that perhaps this man isn't quite as ruthless and terrible as people made him out to be. that's a pleasant surprise, despite his interests. and on that particular subject, he continues:] I'm not entirely sure of my tastes, either, though I... think that I would enjoy being treated a little roughly.
[a little. his expression doesn't hide that he's somewhat understating things, and honestly he's not sure if it matters anyway. at least it's probably clear that this isn't something he's used to voicing, for one reason or another.
[ The other reason Basch uses the truth serum is that he would never believe his pets without it. An absolute virgin, but one who is alright with this and even curious — it makes no sense to him, but he can work with it if he knows it is true and not niceties. ]
We will revisit this conversation when you have more experience then. When we are in public, I sometimes have obligations that go higher than either of us, but I will strive not to subject you to anything we have not attempted privately. Privately, you may always tell me no, and should. As for what you may request, there are no limits except that I will not break skin or bone.
[ He had tried. It had crippled him so badly that it was not worth it for either of them. ]
We do not have to begin today, but per the contract, we do have to begin within the week. It is likely safer for you the sooner I begin to learn you. If you prefer I choose, I can.
[ All business, and an awareness that the potion will blur out the oddness of this conversation on recollection. He needs to stay a little frightening, and he simply can’t do it negotiating limits. ]
[privately, you may always tell me no. it's so out of character for the man's reputation that it's hard to miss, even with the potion muddying his senses a little. of course, he doesn't mind that either.]
I'm not overly concerned about what is needed of me, in public or otherwise. And I will keep these facts in mind. I have had... curiosities about such acts, but they are nothing more than that. Admittedly, it may take me some time to get used to making requests.
[his smile is so simple, half-hidden behind fabric as it is, but the words are certainly a bit odd.]
Beginning today is not a problem. I'm inexperienced, but I have... read quite a lot about sexual acts. It is part of why I'm here, because I could never...
[he trails off at that, the words distant, absent even. something he's not quite ready to accept or admit, perhaps.]
... I will do all I can to please you, with your guidance. To be honest, I find myself... relieved to be in a position like this.
[ His brow furrows. Is this beautiful dancer this naive? Still, it confirms Basch’s instinct to obtain his contract. ]
You should have some concern. Many would hurt you for pleasure. The contract is some protection but it is able to punish, not always to prevent.
[ An eager version. This feeling is self-consciousness. Basch does not feel remotely capable of being someone’s only experience. He will have to work to safely find the dancer others. But at least he can teach the other safety.
The carriage stops and there is a tapping on it — safe to disembark.
He rises first, offering Olivine an arm on the way down. They are still on the street but the pretense of formality is not out of character for the more powerful lords.
He will lead Olivine inside, where the breezy marble lobby is populated by servants in all manner of provocative clothing. His hand on Olivine is firm but still not rough and he’s aware of the eyes on them, the curiosity about how this new acquisition will play out. ]
Well then let, do you wish to please me in the pools or the bedroom?
[His lip twitches at the warning, some measure of wry amusement settling in its corner. Even so, his head dips just slightly.]
I'm sorry, master... I'm afraid I'll need a little guidance on the subject. Pain is often a... pleasant experience for me.
[based on how he fidgets, this isn't something he'd normally admit so readily. It's maybe the most important thing brought about by the drink, though Basch won't know that yet.
The knock brings the moment to an end for now, and he's quick to fall in line, taking the proffered arm as he descends and gently positioning himself just slightly behind his new owner. He doesn't seem to notice any particular looks at him at all, somehow—maybe his attention is just too fully on Basch. And occasionally the very attractive, provocative clothing on the servants.
It makes the question less of a surprise in act and more in word, has pale cheeks blossoming red at the very thought.]
Ah... I'm not sure if I would be better at one than the other. [His admission comes with the slightest shyness, smile soft as he glances away.] I've never considered how to please someone in pools before.
[ The timing of their arrival spares him having to respond. He isn’t sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.
It only deepens when Olivine defers his answer. These are the social dances Basch has never been good at. Does that mean Olivine would prefer somewhere he’s more comfortable, or that he finds the pools intriguing?
Well if he does like pain, then the baths will soothe it, especially if it all proves to be more than he bargained for. Basch is aware of the soreness and aches that can come with a rough coupling, especially a first time, and if it is unpleasant, the baths are not where Olivine will sleep. ]
The baths then. Bring us refreshments and then bar entry until we are finished.
As you request. Is there a special way to bar entry?
[this, at least, is a simpler question. given his upbringing, keeping people out has never been much of a thought for him; he was something to be seen, but not touched in general. it also implies he's content with the answer, if not obviously intrigued.
he certainly does seem remarkably at ease for what they're about to do, attention drifting to the scenery as they head to the pools. after a moment, he does chuckle sheepishly, dipping his head to the slightest jingle of metal.]
Ah—I apologise, if I should have this knowledge already. There were few concrete writings on etiquette for this island among our documents, but I am quick to learn.
[ He wants to put his face in his hands in embarrassment and frustration. This always happens when he gets a new pet; he forgets they don't know his idiosyncrasies, and how much harder he has to work to communicate. ]
I should clarify; you are my pet, but you are not my servant. The staff will get food and bar the doors. I do not follow strict etiquette in this house.
[ The thought has him sweating. That is his absolute worst area of performance. It's all he's really been able to muster to brush it off with bravado and eccentrics. }
[another small mishap, he supposes. It already feels less heavy than he's used to his failures being though... he'll take that as a relief at least.
And in the meantime, he'll just keep that closeness as they move, seemingly almost driven by instinct. He's warm and real, and honestly Olivine can't help but be drawn to him. And can't help but worry that he'll fail him somehow. At least the baths bring a peaceful quiet to their surroundings, even if his fidgeting picks up as interest mounts.]
[ Basch is silent as he leads them down cool stone stairs to the semi-open lower level of the manor. The sea breeze floats through it, sand coming up to the submerged pools and a beautiful view of sea and palm trees and cove filling their vision. The pools are sunken and raised at various heights, some chilled, some salt water from the ocean, and some heated. It's absolutely big enough to be a public bath, but such is the trappings of this sort of place.
He's calculating how best to do this, eyeing the pools. He wants to end up in the warmed one, a raised piece with water that cascades into other pools. He halts, unaware how striking he is in the light, in this place, with his fierce focus. ]
Alright, Pet. I do not wish to damage my things. Disrobe me of anything that could be damaged by salt or heat or water.
[ A task will calm them both down. That he knows well. ]
[There's some distraction to every part of it, really. Olivine's eyes travel over the opulent spread of pools, then back to Basch when he stops to calculate his thoughts. He does try not to stare too plainly though. At least his voice jolts the younger man out of his thoughts.]
Yes, Master. Is there a special place to place them?
[He's already moving to begin his efforts, delicate hands tracing over jewelry and fabric alike to unfasten clasps and closures. The action is reverent somehow, even beyond the natural rhythmic sway of his body. Each piece removed serves to make his heartbeat flutter again, a dusting of pink climbing over the sheer hem of his mask.]
Anywhere they will remain dry — we will be the only ones here.
[ again he feels his coarseness. Years here and he has not learned these things. At least ruggedness suits the image he’s built. He’d have been a fool to claim any sort of nobility or polish. War lord was easier.
He’s startled when warm, gentle fingers graze his body. Obviously that was where this was going and yet he’s forgotten, as he has before, what touch feels like. And this touch is delicate, reverent even. Not afraid and certainly not the sort of touch a man of his reputation — or reality — deserves.
Shame rises up in him, his eyes flicking down, the desire to be deferential bubbling in him. Instead he murmurs, ] Good boy.
[ When the other has finished, he will still his wrist, just a tiny bit rough to gauge reaction. ]
Now you will undress for me.
[ He himself still wears a few chains and his cloth small clothes beneath a vest that’s mostly nothing, the ensemble apparently flattering and titillating. Or so his tailor says. It’s résiliant, and so he sinks into a warm pool to watch. ]
[the words sink deep into him, praise he so scarcely remembers hearing. and somehow it feels better this way, with someone who has no reason to question his proclivities—
the grasp on his wrist, with just the lightest touch of roughness alone, earns a soft hitched breath and his gaze to turn upward, pupils dilated. not a negative reaction, not by a long shot.]
Of course, Master. All of it?
[again, he doesn't wait for the complete confirmation to begin. once Basch sinks back into the pool, he begins with the first layer of jewelry around his hips. though the clothing doesn't hide much of his figure, it's quickly apparent that it is made up of a few layers, and that at least some of them are meant to be removed during performances.
which this is, effectively enough. definitely by the way Olivine moves at first, practiced fingers peeling back jewelry, then fabric, the more jewelry and so on. each layer stripped away reveals a markedly muscular form despite his thoroughly average height and slim waist, and an unusual gemstone set into pale skin besides. pretty is also an apt descriptor for the lingerie under his skirts, delicate straps on panties and soft sheer stockings hugging thick thighs. then his mask, before the half-covering top will provide Basch with what is probably the biggest surprise of all: the delicate, intricate jewelry strung from one nipple to the other.]
[ He does not miss the hunger in the other’s eyes this time and begins to catalogue tastes. Some roughness indeed. Praise. Orders.
Those thoughts are derailed as the dancer — for he clearly cannot be anything else — begins to undress. It is not a performance and yet it is, something much finer and more delicate than Basch has any business being near. His expression slackens, lips parted and eyes bright in a way that betrays the gentle and observant man he is. There’s practice to those movements, discipline. Training repeated a thousand times. Those are things that resonate with him, but Olivine turns them to beauty instead of war.
The question brings him back to himself, at least for a moment. He has a job to do. Battlefield or sex mansion, he is a protector, and this is his charge. He cannot afford distraction. Not the kind that could lead to harm. He’s learned to separate that from letting himself feel arousal, even if it comes with the old familiar sting of shame. ]
Leave your beautiful under things, unless the water will damage them, and then come sit on my lap.
[the response brings a softer smile, as warm on his lips as his eyes suggested earlier. they won't be hard to move out of the way anyway, and the idea of being in them feels somehow more scandalous, for reasons he can't quite define.
those chains have a distinct jingle when he walks, compared to the jewelry—one is made for bold performance, after all, and the other... well, much more private. and knowing nothing of his new Master's internal plights, he holds no concern at all over following him.]
Yes, Master. Our undergarments are quite resilient.
[it feels strange, how easy it is to be deferential to this man without even a name. or rather: it feels strange under the belief that he should hesitate or find it a little harder. surely, he shouldn't feel so comfortable stepping into the warm water to draw near, nor gently curling his fingers over broad shoulders to support himself settling in Basch's lap. absolutely, there shouldn't be so much curiosity and awe and warmth in his glance, anticipatory breathlessness when he speaks his next question.]
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carisma_sensei
Pirate au thing, jazzhands
Date: 2025-10-31 11:06 am (UTC)The sea breeze ruffles the many layers of his outfit, causing coins to jingle and green and white to flicker between golden accents. It's enough to bring his thoughts back to the moment, brushing a lock of hair behind an ear as his gaze turns to the port they're nearing. Now, he supposes he should go through the bits and pieces of information he has about this balmy, beautiful isle.
Which... he has to admit isn't all that much. The texts governing this place are few and far between, and they speak in cryptic warnings about the hardships and dangers of being lesser in this society. Slaves, pets—it should frighten him, perhaps, to think that's the role he'll be placed in. Instead, he finds himself tentatively intrigued by the prospect.
Sometimes, freedom bears a chain of its own, he thinks. Hopes, anyway. As a young man trained to perform, kept away from normal society at length, he can only guess what they might expect of him here. They were right, though. Depending on those whims, this place might just suit him well despite his uncertain position.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-02 12:24 am (UTC)No one here remembers what he was. Few outside this place would either. Here, against all reason, he has become everything his heart was not: wealthy, indulgent, even cruel.
It is a secret he guards as carefully has his past. A facade built from the moment he realized his role here. There were those who came here who has no business being here, and yet no other hope. And he was in a unique position to shield them, sometimes to even smuggle them away. His position of leadership here meant he knew who was going too far as well, could quietly have masters change or pressure the worst offenders off the isle.
Everyone knew there was a prized new pet arriving. A political token, and a man so beautiful Basch knew many would find him in their tastes. From what he knew of the Church, this man would have been sheltered, socially less aware. It was a recipe for a nightmare.
So Basch made sure he greased the wheels. Talked up his taste in beautifully, robust, large-chested men with dancer qualities. How much he’d want to use and corrupt this pure innocent lamb. And then he’d made sure to be the one to win his contract.
So when the boat comes to the harbor, basch is there in the front, in rich fabrics that show off sun-tanned skin, healthy muscles, and sun-streaked golden hair. He smells of smoke and tropical flowers, rings on his fingers and jewels on his neck. Power he has learned to perform over the years.
And when the man walks down the plank, he will grin and growl ] That one is mine.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-02 01:26 am (UTC)of course, in the same way that they've shielded him from any knowledge of what's to come, who he's been auctioned off to, the entire island has been shielded from just what a perfect pet he could be. an embarrassment, sent off to distant shores for redemption where "redemption" had no soft face. and yet he finds himself intrigued, even excited.
Basch isn't hard to spot in a crowd, and perhaps the thing Olivine finds most surprising is how close to the front he is. naturally, as one of the most powerful men in the land, there's no shortage of lore and history written about him. cruel, indulgent—the thought makes his heart flutter when matched with his visage. he's gorgeous, after all, absolutely befitting of his station; sun-kissed skin feels a pure contrast to his own milk-white, and it accents everything about him that settles squarely in the priest's own tastes.
he's saved from any wandering thoughts and the pounding in his chest by the older man speaking, though.]
Ah? [it's such an absent little sound in response to those words, cheeks already slightly flushed (though one could pass that off as due to the sun on the trip). a young dancer from a church wasn't the sort of man he expected this man to show any interest in.
his surprise doesn't last long, though. he's a good boy, after all. after a cursory scan of the crowd, jealousy and envy on their faces that never really register as what they are, he offers a soft smile and a polite bow, not stiff but certainly traditional to his homeland, emphasising the twinkling shuffle of jewelry. granted, he'd rather it be traditional to this island, but that hadn't been something he'd found in his research. beyond that sound, he doesn't speak yet. isn't sure if he's allowed, really. pets are rarely expected to exercise their voices, aren't they?]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-02 02:55 pm (UTC)Usually newcomers protested, or boasted to cover up discomfort. What had they taught this man, this nearly boy still, that he was so ready to be submissive? Perhaps Basch’s reputation was even worse outside the island where there was little to compare him to.
And gods above this beautiful dancer is going to be in danger here. The contracts prevent others from bedding them against their will, but if he can be tricked, it will still be a threat. Beautiful, polished, polite — he is a rarity here, among men at least, and will fit many of their unsated tastes regardless of is own. If he even has his own. Basch has rescued more than one cut from the cloth of no desire at all. They were some of his happiest companions, and he missed a few dearly.
He knows his role now, though, knows the script to follow. He also is eyeing that pale skin with the protectiveness of a father, aware there will be sun burn and heat sickness if they linger.
So he grins, making a point of eye contact with the more envious members of the crowd, as he draws a collar from a pocket. Thin, adorned with clinking coins that match the dancer’s aesthetic — thank you for the research to his dear friend and head “servant” — and steps forward to clasp it around the man’s neck. ]
With this, the contract is sealed, and you are mine until it is fulfilled.
[ It is not just a formality. There is magic in this place, and the spell is now complete.
But he still needs to sell it to the crowd. He takes the man’s upper arm roughly, noting that despite his elegance, he is a rival for Basch’s physique, likely wider in the chest even if he is narrower in the waist. Not delicate. Good. ]
Out of our way. I am eager to break in my new toy.
[ Several hungers simmer in the crowd and he grins. ]
Privately.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-02 07:45 pm (UTC)Which, it turns out, he is surprisingly resilient to—they had provided him with protective creams, layered with magic to protect pale flesh from the sun. It's a different tingle, compared to the tremble of magic through his body when the collar locks on place.
That threatens to make him dizzy for just a moment, as it resonates with the power embedded in his gemstone. Testing, confirming that there is no conflict. His breath hitches in the slightest measure then, and Olivine nods his understanding as the binding magic roots itself in every nerve.
There's another soft noise that escapes him when Basch takes an arm. He does not pull, and that feels... notable somehow? A curious decision. Of course, the older man will be able to feel the shiver his words bring, even if he misreads their origin.
What an exhilarating thought.
Without missing a beat, the dancer's body shifts, snaking its way closer with another pleasant jingle. The strength there under his soft face is not hidden by any intention on the least. Fingers rest on Basch's shoulder, selfishly taking in the swell and curve of muscle, and his gaze shifts away from his new "owner" only briefly to peer over the crowd. It's hard to say if he understands the words he's heard, at first, but he isn't afraid by any means. No, his faint breathlessness is quite the opposite.]
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Date: 2025-11-04 02:24 am (UTC)Perhaps, too, he is blinded by guilt. He thinks he is adding to the man’s fear with his rough and lecherous presentation. It is a necessary evil, and one he has never come to forgive himself for.
So he makes this brief, a possessive arm over Olivine as he leads them through the crowd. The island is not huge, but there is a carriage waiting there, as his manor is in a more desirable and remote place.
The carriage is plush, with equal options for privacy and … exhibition. Basch chooses the former today, not letting on that the seats can open and an assortment of toys and restraints rest inside. No, much the opposite, he leads Olivine in sits him down almost like a child. ]
Sit here, pet. I wish to look at you.
[ Which allows them both some space as he takes the seat opposite. He does dip into a fine cooler set beneath one seat, drawing out an iced drink for his, well, pet. He hates this part too, but it makes things easier later; there is a truth spell brewed into the drink, and a mild one for if not compliance, then suggestibility. Basch can’t take care of anyone if he doesn’t know their needs or limits. ]
Drink. We do not want you wilting in this tropical sun.
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Date: 2025-11-04 06:17 am (UTC)sooner than might be a worry, in fact. it isn't Olivine's first time in a carriage, but it's certainly a first for one so... plush and stately. there's a beauty to it he can't quite describe, though he's not that surprised given his lack of understanding about the world in reality. sitting makes that curiosity more plain, though as he's brought to a seat he settles down and nods understanding.]
Ah. [his fingers are delicate when they take the offered drink, his first words soft and calm. if he was frightened before, there's none to be seen now.] Thank you for your concern, though my skin is pale in spite of tropical sun.
[an absent informing, as he lifts the drink to take a sip. it's an unusual trait, certainly; maybe it's related to his gemstone, though the dancer isn't entirely sure anyway. he's not concerned about any spells brewed into the drinks, either, noting only a strange sensation that makes his tongue feel... tingly and impatient, somehow. it's fine, surely.]
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Date: 2025-11-04 05:02 pm (UTC)Tell me how you are feeling. The sun, your journey, your contract.
[ Straight to business. Finesse takes a good deal of effort, and he's used a lot of it today. ]
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Date: 2025-11-05 05:46 am (UTC)The sun and the journey were both pleasant and calm, I would say. It's been quite some time since I was on the water like that. My contract...
[He has to think for a moment then, turning the glass in his hand. How he's feeling about it? Is there a way he's supposed to?]
I'm curious about it. I've read about how this island works, at least as much as I could find on here. I know that I'm to be considered a "pet," but not really what that fully entails.
[so, curious.]
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Date: 2025-11-06 11:10 pm (UTC)So your people told you nothing.
Are you aware your duties include performing whatever services I request, domestic and sexual?
[ It used to be harder for him to have this conversation. Practice has helped, as has the potion encouraging the other to answer. It means he does not have to be as skilled in his delivery.
And he will follow up, ] Tell me, then, if you have any particular tastes or limits, or if you do not know. We will amend to contract.
[ This was usually about when his smarter pets started to figure out something was afoot, as masters were not required to care about their pets preferences if they were not put into the contract. ]
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Date: 2025-11-07 11:24 am (UTC)[the first pause, then, is more one of internalised confusion and uncertainty. for so long, he's kept so much to himself, and sharing that information was all but out of the question. and yet, he finds his tongue surprisingly loose regarding them.]
I... I am not sure of my limits, I admit. [amending the contract certainly puts some thoughts in mind. firstly, that perhaps this man isn't quite as ruthless and terrible as people made him out to be. that's a pleasant surprise, despite his interests. and on that particular subject, he continues:] I'm not entirely sure of my tastes, either, though I... think that I would enjoy being treated a little roughly.
[a little. his expression doesn't hide that he's somewhat understating things, and honestly he's not sure if it matters anyway. at least it's probably clear that this isn't something he's used to voicing, for one reason or another.
probably the priest thing, granted.]
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Date: 2025-11-07 02:10 pm (UTC)We will revisit this conversation when you have more experience then. When we are in public, I sometimes have obligations that go higher than either of us, but I will strive not to subject you to anything we have not attempted privately. Privately, you may always tell me no, and should. As for what you may request, there are no limits except that I will not break skin or bone.
[ He had tried. It had crippled him so badly that it was not worth it for either of them. ]
We do not have to begin today, but per the contract, we do have to begin within the week. It is likely safer for you the sooner I begin to learn you. If you prefer I choose, I can.
[ All business, and an awareness that the potion will blur out the oddness of this conversation on recollection. He needs to stay a little frightening, and he simply can’t do it negotiating limits. ]
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Date: 2025-11-07 02:57 pm (UTC)I'm not overly concerned about what is needed of me, in public or otherwise. And I will keep these facts in mind. I have had... curiosities about such acts, but they are nothing more than that. Admittedly, it may take me some time to get used to making requests.
[his smile is so simple, half-hidden behind fabric as it is, but the words are certainly a bit odd.]
Beginning today is not a problem. I'm inexperienced, but I have... read quite a lot about sexual acts. It is part of why I'm here, because I could never...
[he trails off at that, the words distant, absent even. something he's not quite ready to accept or admit, perhaps.]
... I will do all I can to please you, with your guidance. To be honest, I find myself... relieved to be in a position like this.
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Date: 2025-11-09 02:33 pm (UTC)You should have some concern. Many would hurt you for pleasure. The contract is some protection but it is able to punish, not always to prevent.
[ An eager version. This feeling is self-consciousness. Basch does not feel remotely capable of being someone’s only experience. He will have to work to safely find the dancer others. But at least he can teach the other safety.
The carriage stops and there is a tapping on it — safe to disembark.
He rises first, offering Olivine an arm on the way down. They are still on the street but the pretense of formality is not out of character for the more powerful lords.
He will lead Olivine inside, where the breezy marble lobby is populated by servants in all manner of provocative clothing. His hand on Olivine is firm but still not rough and he’s aware of the eyes on them, the curiosity about how this new acquisition will play out. ]
Well then let, do you wish to please me in the pools or the bedroom?
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Date: 2025-11-09 04:27 pm (UTC)I'm sorry, master... I'm afraid I'll need a little guidance on the subject. Pain is often a... pleasant experience for me.
[based on how he fidgets, this isn't something he'd normally admit so readily. It's maybe the most important thing brought about by the drink, though Basch won't know that yet.
The knock brings the moment to an end for now, and he's quick to fall in line, taking the proffered arm as he descends and gently positioning himself just slightly behind his new owner. He doesn't seem to notice any particular looks at him at all, somehow—maybe his attention is just too fully on Basch. And occasionally the very attractive, provocative clothing on the servants.
It makes the question less of a surprise in act and more in word, has pale cheeks blossoming red at the very thought.]
Ah... I'm not sure if I would be better at one than the other. [His admission comes with the slightest shyness, smile soft as he glances away.] I've never considered how to please someone in pools before.
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Date: 2025-11-10 12:59 am (UTC)It only deepens when Olivine defers his answer. These are the social dances Basch has never been good at. Does that mean Olivine would prefer somewhere he’s more comfortable, or that he finds the pools intriguing?
Well if he does like pain, then the baths will soothe it, especially if it all proves to be more than he bargained for. Basch is aware of the soreness and aches that can come with a rough coupling, especially a first time, and if it is unpleasant, the baths are not where Olivine will sleep. ]
The baths then. Bring us refreshments and then bar entry until we are finished.
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Date: 2025-11-10 01:48 pm (UTC)[this, at least, is a simpler question. given his upbringing, keeping people out has never been much of a thought for him; he was something to be seen, but not touched in general. it also implies he's content with the answer, if not obviously intrigued.
he certainly does seem remarkably at ease for what they're about to do, attention drifting to the scenery as they head to the pools. after a moment, he does chuckle sheepishly, dipping his head to the slightest jingle of metal.]
Ah—I apologise, if I should have this knowledge already. There were few concrete writings on etiquette for this island among our documents, but I am quick to learn.
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Date: 2025-11-10 04:58 pm (UTC)I should clarify; you are my pet, but you are not my servant. The staff will get food and bar the doors. I do not follow strict etiquette in this house.
[ The thought has him sweating. That is his absolute worst area of performance. It's all he's really been able to muster to brush it off with bravado and eccentrics. }
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Date: 2025-11-11 02:27 pm (UTC)[another small mishap, he supposes. It already feels less heavy than he's used to his failures being though... he'll take that as a relief at least.
And in the meantime, he'll just keep that closeness as they move, seemingly almost driven by instinct. He's warm and real, and honestly Olivine can't help but be drawn to him. And can't help but worry that he'll fail him somehow. At least the baths bring a peaceful quiet to their surroundings, even if his fidgeting picks up as interest mounts.]
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Date: 2025-11-11 07:30 pm (UTC)He's calculating how best to do this, eyeing the pools. He wants to end up in the warmed one, a raised piece with water that cascades into other pools. He halts, unaware how striking he is in the light, in this place, with his fierce focus. ]
Alright, Pet. I do not wish to damage my things. Disrobe me of anything that could be damaged by salt or heat or water.
[ A task will calm them both down. That he knows well. ]
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Date: 2025-11-14 02:32 pm (UTC)Yes, Master. Is there a special place to place them?
[He's already moving to begin his efforts, delicate hands tracing over jewelry and fabric alike to unfasten clasps and closures. The action is reverent somehow, even beyond the natural rhythmic sway of his body. Each piece removed serves to make his heartbeat flutter again, a dusting of pink climbing over the sheer hem of his mask.]
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Date: 2025-11-22 04:14 am (UTC)[ again he feels his coarseness. Years here and he has not learned these things. At least ruggedness suits the image he’s built. He’d have been a fool to claim any sort of nobility or polish. War lord was easier.
He’s startled when warm, gentle fingers graze his body. Obviously that was where this was going and yet he’s forgotten, as he has before, what touch feels like. And this touch is delicate, reverent even. Not afraid and certainly not the sort of touch a man of his reputation — or reality — deserves.
Shame rises up in him, his eyes flicking down, the desire to be deferential bubbling in him. Instead he murmurs, ] Good boy.
[ When the other has finished, he will still his wrist, just a tiny bit rough to gauge reaction. ]
Now you will undress for me.
[ He himself still wears a few chains and his cloth small clothes beneath a vest that’s mostly nothing, the ensemble apparently flattering and titillating. Or so his tailor says. It’s résiliant, and so he sinks into a warm pool to watch. ]
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Date: 2025-11-22 05:47 am (UTC)the grasp on his wrist, with just the lightest touch of roughness alone, earns a soft hitched breath and his gaze to turn upward, pupils dilated. not a negative reaction, not by a long shot.]
Of course, Master. All of it?
[again, he doesn't wait for the complete confirmation to begin. once Basch sinks back into the pool, he begins with the first layer of jewelry around his hips. though the clothing doesn't hide much of his figure, it's quickly apparent that it is made up of a few layers, and that at least some of them are meant to be removed during performances.
which this is, effectively enough. definitely by the way Olivine moves at first, practiced fingers peeling back jewelry, then fabric, the more jewelry and so on. each layer stripped away reveals a markedly muscular form despite his thoroughly average height and slim waist, and an unusual gemstone set into pale skin besides. pretty is also an apt descriptor for the lingerie under his skirts, delicate straps on panties and soft sheer stockings hugging thick thighs. then his mask, before the half-covering top will provide Basch with what is probably the biggest surprise of all: the delicate, intricate jewelry strung from one nipple to the other.]
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Date: 2025-11-22 09:41 am (UTC)Those thoughts are derailed as the dancer — for he clearly cannot be anything else — begins to undress. It is not a performance and yet it is, something much finer and more delicate than Basch has any business being near. His expression slackens, lips parted and eyes bright in a way that betrays the gentle and observant man he is. There’s practice to those movements, discipline. Training repeated a thousand times. Those are things that resonate with him, but Olivine turns them to beauty instead of war.
The question brings him back to himself, at least for a moment. He has a job to do. Battlefield or sex mansion, he is a protector, and this is his charge. He cannot afford distraction. Not the kind that could lead to harm. He’s learned to separate that from letting himself feel arousal, even if it comes with the old familiar sting of shame. ]
Leave your beautiful under things, unless the water will damage them, and then come sit on my lap.
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Date: 2025-11-22 10:53 am (UTC)those chains have a distinct jingle when he walks, compared to the jewelry—one is made for bold performance, after all, and the other... well, much more private. and knowing nothing of his new Master's internal plights, he holds no concern at all over following him.]
Yes, Master. Our undergarments are quite resilient.
[it feels strange, how easy it is to be deferential to this man without even a name. or rather: it feels strange under the belief that he should hesitate or find it a little harder. surely, he shouldn't feel so comfortable stepping into the warm water to draw near, nor gently curling his fingers over broad shoulders to support himself settling in Basch's lap. absolutely, there shouldn't be so much curiosity and awe and warmth in his glance, anticipatory breathlessness when he speaks his next question.]
What can I do for you next?
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