[ 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.]
[ It’s been awhile, honestly, and he did not consider that he would feel shy again. Unrefined. Out of his depth. The warmth and expectation on the dancer’s face make him feel inadequate. That and all this fine jewelry and decoration, some of it connected directly to the other’s nipples.
His hands, at least, operate automatically, cupping the other’s waist and shifting him so that Basch’s thigh is between Olivine’s legs. And then he lets them slide lower, lace and metal beneath his fingers as they dig into the meat of the dancer’s glutes, testing his proclaimed preference for roughness.
Even so he frowns, observing the other, trying to make sense. ]
Is this what they trained you for?
[ Because, even here on this island, he is an erotic vision ]
[the noise he makes when fingers dig into skin is hard to mistake, and the way his weight shifts against Basch's thigh even more so. there's a certain lack of expectation there, a giddy excitement that ripples through his fingertips and all the way back down his spine. it's so good, just that touch; more than he imagined, he thinks.
it takes him a moment to recover his senses enough to shake his head, peering up from behind long lashes that tremble softly.]
No, [the word is breathy and light on his lips, tongue brushing them and pressing together,] we are taught to... have no interest in such things. They say it interferes with our skills.
[which certainly paints a different picture of the young man sitting on his lap, already struggling to keep still with needy impatience. more so one who was clearly kept away from so much of living, in general.]
I... couldn't separate myself from my wants. So they let me be the one to come here...
[it's hard to tell without further context if this was a choice of mercy or dismissal. at the very least, it was a choice of convenience for a society that values apparent purity—at least in its performers.]
[ He makes the same connection — was this a placement of mercy or cruelty? They did not bother to check that his contract was safe, but perhaps if they’d dug into it they’d found Basch’s pets were not unwilling. Many stayed for multiple contracts.
Basch dug his fingers in again, lowering them to cup firm muscled glutes, curling them in dangerously close to inner thigh and what else lie there. A virgin, clear even if he didn’t know, the way these touches are so exciting. It makes Basch reverent, slow; he ought not to be the person doing this, but he will do the best he can. He squeezes again, thigh coming up to meet the rock of Olivine’s body. ]
Dressing you like this, and they don’t expect the audience to imagine bending you over a table or a hitching pole, all that metal jingling as you’re mounted and spent?
[ Another way to test what Olivine might like. As he speaks, one hand comes up to tug on the chain between his nipples in curiosity. He has not dealt with this before, not one that isn’t attached with temporary clamps. ]
Perhaps it was a taste in men they were again? I know women here would love to tie you up, prone and lovely, and then fuck you from behind, or mount you and fuck themselves until you both cried out.
[ If Olivine does like women, Basch will be sure he has his tastes met. ]
[in turn, Olivine may never know unless Basch finds it out himself. he's certainly not the type to think badly of his people, his family, even when he should.
muscles twitch and tense as fingers cup and curl, head dipping slightly forward—a touch of shame, but more pleasant overwhelm than that—the water obscures some of his arousal altogether, but hides none of the important parts in how he shifts and moves.
God, it's not fair of this man to give him so much to imagine, all while his clothed cock is braced against his thigh so every twitch is perfectly broadcast. but then, he doesn't have to be fair, does he?]
I... as performers, we—haugh!
[oh. a simple tug takes his thoughts completely out of action for a moment, piercings pulling lightly at his nipples and teasing them harder, more swollen. his thighs squeeze against the leg between them on instinct. Basch has certainly found a positive place for teasing.]
Mmnh... I... I've never thought about... women doing that to me. [in fact, he's not even entirely sure how it would work, offhand. his interest has clearly at least been in men—or in being fucked, at the very least.] I'm not sure... what I would like.
[it's a quiet, earnest explanation, but one that does hold more than its fair share of that deferent, demure feeling. like he wants to say he thinks he'd like it, but he isn't allowed.
or wasn't allowed. at this point, that's much more likely.]
Nngh... it feels good... like this too. [in case it wasn't abundantly clear, perhaps. or maybe just because Olivine has to speak or he's going to lose his concentration altogether, and Basch hasn't even really touched him.] Much... better than my own...
[ he does sense the demureness, the shame — it’s not uncommon here, and was not unknown to his own life. This at least he knows how to navigate. ]
Tell me, then, pet, what have you imagined? What secret dreams have you held in your bed lately at night?
[ he tugs again, his other hand grazing hardened cock beneath fabric, sending a jolt through his own that Olivine will likely feel against his leg. There’s always something tantalizing to staying clothed. The sense of forbiddenness. The question of whether it will come off or not. Though for his part, he does not plan to go straight to that, not unless Olivine very specifically wants it. There’s plenty of other ways to have a good introduction. ]
I... [there's pause there, hesitation bordering on a wince, soothed by the touch of a warm hand against his cock and the tug of his jewelry. short fingernails press lightly into Basch's shoulders and he can't hide his little whine at the "encouragement." it doesn't help him look his master in the eye on his own, though.] I've read about so many possibilities, after all.
I've thought about things like... like you mentioned before. Being... pressed down and vulnerable...
[the words are too scandalous on his tongue, despite all he's read. a taboo he'll need at least a little encouragement to get past—though probably not much, given how enthusiastically he's done whatever Basch has asked.]
[ All Basch takes from that is to back off, to tread more gently. If even saying it is too much, then he does not want to press too hard today. not that he doesn't make his own small sound at the way Olivine grips him, eager and trusting. There's a mix again, of want and shame. ]
That is more comfortable in a bed [ Is all he says. There are ways to make it work here, but he'd prefer something softer. ] I shall play with you other ways today.
[ As he says it, he moves the hand from Olivine's front to his back, sliding under the straps of his undergarment until a finger can circle his opening in the warm water. The one tugging the chain switches to cup, pinching nipple. ] This will be better here.
[oh, it's such a nice feeling, the way fingers pinch at a sensitive nipple, the warmth of a hand on his chest. combined with the shift of a finger around his entrance, pliant and twitching as it already is, it's more than enough to guide him into motion at least, undecided which he wants to press more directly into.]
Haah... that feels good... I'm s-sensitive there.
[not a complaint, and probably obvious which there he's talking about under the circumstances.]
[ His face breaks, softening into a warm smile, a dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth, laugh lines along his eyes. ] As you should be.
[ He's glad it feels good, glad this sheltered version is finding joy and not fear. It's endearing, how eager this man is -- and alluring, too. Basch's chest aches to make the other feel good, a liability in this place, but one he isn't unused to.
He's steady and deliberate, pressing into the other just enough that he can get used to it, shifting his thigh up to catch the beautiful way the other rocks, hand still cupping his pec. ]
[The sight of it, even through his hazy, needy gaze, is beautiful. A warmth that suits his face, down to that soft amusement. Does he make it often?]
Should I...? I'm glad, then...
[that hand shifts, finger pressing into him, and the dancer arches back a little in soft pleasure. Getting used to it seems to be almost unnecessary, in fact. Truly, it's so much better than his own slender fingers... at the order, Olivine shifts a little more to peer up at him when he nods.]
I... I'll try, Master. [His hole all but demands more already, soft and tight and squeezing pleasantly around that digit. It's not hard to see him slipping into the scandal of it, the pleasure he so desperately craves right there at his fingertips.
Well, with that promise, he can't quite stop the shift of his expression as restraint melts away into feeling.]
Your fingers are—so thick... it makes me want to feel more...
[thighs press against the one bracing them. Olivine's little rocking motions become more purposeful, too—each upward motion lets him press into the taller man's grasp, nipple pressing into his palm.]
[ His smile turns to a low chuckle. ] You sold yourself short; you are experienced. [ Which is a relief; he feels less like a predator, less like he has to be delicate. He's still careful, adding a second finger. ]
Good boy. You should always tell me what you want.
[ His own arousal is heightening, eased by knowing his new pet is enjoying this so thoroughly. ]
I've—only ever touched myself, though. And used... a few toys.
[It's hard to say if it's the potion prompting the honesty, or if it's just his new pet's nature. Whatever the case, he moans as another finger presses into him, forehead dipping to rest against Basch's shoulder. God, it's so good...]
Nmh... yes... master. [It's such a pleasant sigh, his lashes drooping.] I liked... when you played with my chest more, too. It feels good... like when I pierced them. Especially—mmngh—with your fingers inside.
Toys, fingers, self-pleasure — it all counts. Unless you’d prefer I use none?
[ He knows the answer already, grinning as he crooks those fingers inside Olivine, tugging on the chains again now that he’s been encouraged. ]
I was not going to take you fully today because I thought you a proper virgin. Tell me, pet, do you want my cock? Is your curiosity burning? [ He adds a third finger, a rough approximation of the width he will need to take ]
[fingers crook inside him and tug on chains and he jolts prettily, gasping at the sheer sensation that flickers through every nerve. that's not fair at all—]
That's— [his cheeks heat all the more at the words, "accusations" that fall so plainly into his truth. part of him wars with shame at not being a proper virgin, and yet the following comments pull the more important truth from his lips.] I want it... mmngh... and I want to be a good pet—
[ah, a third finger presses in and he arches with it, toes curling in the water. it distracts him from further commentary for now, at least.]
[ The water had been a good choice . The splashes and rocking of it with Olivine’s desirous motion is strangely erotic, and Basch has the urge to see just how loud and messy he will get, only to settle into gentle quiet later. ]
Oh I have no worry that you will be anything but a perfect pet. Much beyond my expectations. I am delighted you do not need breaking in.
[ It’s true. He’s much more excited about this, and he does not let up on his teasing. ]
You can have my cock if you can last until it’s inside you. But if you want it, you’ll first have to get it out for me.
[It only takes him a moment to catch on to the reasoning, the threat and promise in those words, punctuated by the rock of fingers and tug of chains. The way he shivers makes that obvious enough.
And oh, his hole is so very welcoming, tight and wet in his need. If his fingers feel this good... he can't possibly fail, can he? He needs to feel it—]
Ungh... y-yes, master.
[brows furrow on concentration then, trying to push away the overwhelming pleasure of being fingered by another for the first time. Breaths come in shallow shivers, cock aching in his panties where they cling wetly around it.
Lashes flutter when he's finally managed just enough sense, delicate fingers tracing down the man's chest in halting, distracted jolts. He's determined, that much is certain. And God, he wants to see his master's cock, even through the distortion of the rippling water.
At least he'll manage that without too much trouble, provided Basch doesn't add more for him to endure.]
[ Basch won’t make this harder. Maybe some other time, but he know this is still a first for olivine, and the other has expressed wanting to get to penetration with cock. He doesn’t want any part of this to be disappointing, and so he will listen and watch carefully, backing off if he thinks olivine is getting too close.
But, gods, this place has its grip on him too. He would be fine without sex, and yet, the moment Olivine’s hands search for him, his breath hitches, his skin flushing. He almost scolds that the other tries to lewd up first but bites it back. Their positions reversed, he would want to do the same. Accepting full attention was its own skill. ]
It appears, pet, that you have a hand full of cock. Do you want to play with it? How curious are you? Or are you simply dying to have it inside you?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carisma_sensei
no subject
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. }
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 03:30 am (UTC)His hands, at least, operate automatically, cupping the other’s waist and shifting him so that Basch’s thigh is between Olivine’s legs. And then he lets them slide lower, lace and metal beneath his fingers as they dig into the meat of the dancer’s glutes, testing his proclaimed preference for roughness.
Even so he frowns, observing the other, trying to make sense. ]
Is this what they trained you for?
[ Because, even here on this island, he is an erotic vision ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 05:10 am (UTC)[the noise he makes when fingers dig into skin is hard to mistake, and the way his weight shifts against Basch's thigh even more so. there's a certain lack of expectation there, a giddy excitement that ripples through his fingertips and all the way back down his spine. it's so good, just that touch; more than he imagined, he thinks.
it takes him a moment to recover his senses enough to shake his head, peering up from behind long lashes that tremble softly.]
No, [the word is breathy and light on his lips, tongue brushing them and pressing together,] we are taught to... have no interest in such things. They say it interferes with our skills.
[which certainly paints a different picture of the young man sitting on his lap, already struggling to keep still with needy impatience. more so one who was clearly kept away from so much of living, in general.]
I... couldn't separate myself from my wants. So they let me be the one to come here...
[it's hard to tell without further context if this was a choice of mercy or dismissal. at the very least, it was a choice of convenience for a society that values apparent purity—at least in its performers.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 05:31 am (UTC)Basch dug his fingers in again, lowering them to cup firm muscled glutes, curling them in dangerously close to inner thigh and what else lie there. A virgin, clear even if he didn’t know, the way these touches are so exciting. It makes Basch reverent, slow; he ought not to be the person doing this, but he will do the best he can. He squeezes again, thigh coming up to meet the rock of Olivine’s body. ]
Dressing you like this, and they don’t expect the audience to imagine bending you over a table or a hitching pole, all that metal jingling as you’re mounted and spent?
[ Another way to test what Olivine might like. As he speaks, one hand comes up to tug on the chain between his nipples in curiosity. He has not dealt with this before, not one that isn’t attached with temporary clamps. ]
Perhaps it was a taste in men they were again? I know women here would love to tie you up, prone and lovely, and then fuck you from behind, or mount you and fuck themselves until you both cried out.
[ If Olivine does like women, Basch will be sure he has his tastes met. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 06:09 am (UTC)muscles twitch and tense as fingers cup and curl, head dipping slightly forward—a touch of shame, but more pleasant overwhelm than that—the water obscures some of his arousal altogether, but hides none of the important parts in how he shifts and moves.
God, it's not fair of this man to give him so much to imagine, all while his clothed cock is braced against his thigh so every twitch is perfectly broadcast. but then, he doesn't have to be fair, does he?]
I... as performers, we—haugh!
[oh. a simple tug takes his thoughts completely out of action for a moment, piercings pulling lightly at his nipples and teasing them harder, more swollen. his thighs squeeze against the leg between them on instinct. Basch has certainly found a positive place for teasing.]
Mmnh... I... I've never thought about... women doing that to me. [in fact, he's not even entirely sure how it would work, offhand. his interest has clearly at least been in men—or in being fucked, at the very least.] I'm not sure... what I would like.
[it's a quiet, earnest explanation, but one that does hold more than its fair share of that deferent, demure feeling. like he wants to say he thinks he'd like it, but he isn't allowed.
or wasn't allowed. at this point, that's much more likely.]
Nngh... it feels good... like this too. [in case it wasn't abundantly clear, perhaps. or maybe just because Olivine has to speak or he's going to lose his concentration altogether, and Basch hasn't even really touched him.] Much... better than my own...
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 09:53 pm (UTC)Tell me, then, pet, what have you imagined? What secret dreams have you held in your bed lately at night?
[ he tugs again, his other hand grazing hardened cock beneath fabric, sending a jolt through his own that Olivine will likely feel against his leg. There’s always something tantalizing to staying clothed. The sense of forbiddenness. The question of whether it will come off or not. Though for his part, he does not plan to go straight to that, not unless Olivine very specifically wants it. There’s plenty of other ways to have a good introduction. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-24 03:00 pm (UTC)I've thought about things like... like you mentioned before. Being... pressed down and vulnerable...
[the words are too scandalous on his tongue, despite all he's read. a taboo he'll need at least a little encouragement to get past—though probably not much, given how enthusiastically he's done whatever Basch has asked.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-24 06:17 pm (UTC)That is more comfortable in a bed [ Is all he says. There are ways to make it work here, but he'd prefer something softer. ] I shall play with you other ways today.
[ As he says it, he moves the hand from Olivine's front to his back, sliding under the straps of his undergarment until a finger can circle his opening in the warm water. The one tugging the chain switches to cup, pinching nipple. ] This will be better here.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 06:15 am (UTC)[oh, it's such a nice feeling, the way fingers pinch at a sensitive nipple, the warmth of a hand on his chest. combined with the shift of a finger around his entrance, pliant and twitching as it already is, it's more than enough to guide him into motion at least, undecided which he wants to press more directly into.]
Haah... that feels good... I'm s-sensitive there.
[not a complaint, and probably obvious which there he's talking about under the circumstances.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 05:21 pm (UTC)[ He's glad it feels good, glad this sheltered version is finding joy and not fear. It's endearing, how eager this man is -- and alluring, too. Basch's chest aches to make the other feel good, a liability in this place, but one he isn't unused to.
He's steady and deliberate, pressing into the other just enough that he can get used to it, shifting his thigh up to catch the beautiful way the other rocks, hand still cupping his pec. ]
Indulge, pet. Let me see you enjoy it.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 08:48 pm (UTC)Should I...? I'm glad, then...
[that hand shifts, finger pressing into him, and the dancer arches back a little in soft pleasure. Getting used to it seems to be almost unnecessary, in fact. Truly, it's so much better than his own slender fingers... at the order, Olivine shifts a little more to peer up at him when he nods.]
I... I'll try, Master. [His hole all but demands more already, soft and tight and squeezing pleasantly around that digit. It's not hard to see him slipping into the scandal of it, the pleasure he so desperately craves right there at his fingertips.
Well, with that promise, he can't quite stop the shift of his expression as restraint melts away into feeling.]
Your fingers are—so thick... it makes me want to feel more...
[thighs press against the one bracing them. Olivine's little rocking motions become more purposeful, too—each upward motion lets him press into the taller man's grasp, nipple pressing into his palm.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 10:22 pm (UTC)Good boy. You should always tell me what you want.
[ His own arousal is heightening, eased by knowing his new pet is enjoying this so thoroughly. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 11:26 pm (UTC)[It's hard to say if it's the potion prompting the honesty, or if it's just his new pet's nature. Whatever the case, he moans as another finger presses into him, forehead dipping to rest against Basch's shoulder. God, it's so good...]
Nmh... yes... master. [It's such a pleasant sigh, his lashes drooping.] I liked... when you played with my chest more, too. It feels good... like when I pierced them. Especially—mmngh—with your fingers inside.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 12:02 am (UTC)[ He knows the answer already, grinning as he crooks those fingers inside Olivine, tugging on the chains again now that he’s been encouraged. ]
I was not going to take you fully today because I thought you a proper virgin. Tell me, pet, do you want my cock? Is your curiosity burning? [ He adds a third finger, a rough approximation of the width he will need to take ]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 06:00 am (UTC)[fingers crook inside him and tug on chains and he jolts prettily, gasping at the sheer sensation that flickers through every nerve. that's not fair at all—]
That's— [his cheeks heat all the more at the words, "accusations" that fall so plainly into his truth. part of him wars with shame at not being a proper virgin, and yet the following comments pull the more important truth from his lips.] I want it... mmngh... and I want to be a good pet—
[ah, a third finger presses in and he arches with it, toes curling in the water. it distracts him from further commentary for now, at least.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 08:38 pm (UTC)Oh I have no worry that you will be anything but a perfect pet. Much beyond my expectations. I am delighted you do not need breaking in.
[ It’s true. He’s much more excited about this, and he does not let up on his teasing. ]
You can have my cock if you can last until it’s inside you. But if you want it, you’ll first have to get it out for me.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 09:46 pm (UTC)[It only takes him a moment to catch on to the reasoning, the threat and promise in those words, punctuated by the rock of fingers and tug of chains. The way he shivers makes that obvious enough.
And oh, his hole is so very welcoming, tight and wet in his need. If his fingers feel this good... he can't possibly fail, can he? He needs to feel it—]
Ungh... y-yes, master.
[brows furrow on concentration then, trying to push away the overwhelming pleasure of being fingered by another for the first time. Breaths come in shallow shivers, cock aching in his panties where they cling wetly around it.
Lashes flutter when he's finally managed just enough sense, delicate fingers tracing down the man's chest in halting, distracted jolts. He's determined, that much is certain. And God, he wants to see his master's cock, even through the distortion of the rippling water.
At least he'll manage that without too much trouble, provided Basch doesn't add more for him to endure.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-27 12:31 am (UTC)But, gods, this place has its grip on him too. He would be fine without sex, and yet, the moment Olivine’s hands search for him, his breath hitches, his skin flushing. He almost scolds that the other tries to lewd up first but bites it back. Their positions reversed, he would want to do the same. Accepting full attention was its own skill. ]
It appears, pet, that you have a hand full of cock. Do you want to play with it? How curious are you? Or are you simply dying to have it inside you?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: