Golden Peacock TDM Overflow

[bardische]

Original Top Level
Overlfow 2l
Overflow 3

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[philancer]

[ He can see it, and it makes him smile as he drinks in the sight of Basch reclined for him, suspended in the swing. His hands bound up in the ropes that hold his weight and everything else exposed and on display for him.

He lets calloused fingertips slide down over Basch’s torso, his touch teasing but confident. Tweaking and tugging the man’s nipples till they darkened, hardened, sensitivity drawn to the surface. And then he lets his touch drift lower, fingers curling around his cock and giving him a slow stroke, but one that made the swing sway slightly all the same. ]

Is it comfortable, the swing?

[massochism]

[it's an interesting push and pull, every time. Basch teases gentleness over soft skin and follows it with the harsh slap of a palm, the press of teeth, and Olivine only just bites his sound down to a manageable level. staying still? he'd have to be forced, nearly, especially as his body clenches down in his want.]

Haaah... thank you... master... [for the compliment, clearly. and less clearly, for the rough treatment, as his hips jolt and shift against that unmoving hand, rocking between it and the gentle hold over his sack. not enough, no—the priest can take more than most, in fact—but that's the point. a shiver slides down his spine, lip worried between teeth. only a moment, really, before he breaks.]

Please... I need more of you... I still feel so empty...

[bardische]

[ He feels exposed, and the gut instinct to struggle, to hide, is there beneath the surface. That makes it all the more arousing as he keeps himself still, vying with himself that this is what he wants, and that he trusts the other not only to make this wonderful, but that there will be no malice, no use of this against him.

It's hardly a moment before those rough hands are on him, and his breathy moan comes easy even before the attention shifts to his nipples. This alone is bliss, but Sylvain is not one to let him rest. The touch to his cock earns a sharper sound, body tensing in response to the swing's motion. ]

Surprisingly. [ He admits. Physically and emotionally. ] Is the view to your liking?

[philancer]

Oh, very much so.

[ The words are a dark purr as he watches Basch’s reactions with an appreciative gaze. Letting the man see just how much he liked the view, as his gaze trails over the man’s exposed form. His bound wrists. The way his muscles pull taut when he tested the strength of the bindings, or when the swing shifts and sways beneath him. ]

I think your legs could probably be hooked up here, as well. [ He slides his hand up the lower set of ropes, where more hoops in the suspension were visible. It would clearly keep the man spread and suspended within the swing entirely, but it was also a far more vulnerable position. ] But we don’t have to use those if you’re not comfortable with it. This already gives us plenty to work with. What do you think?

[bardische]

[ Basch's face searches his openly, lips parted and brow furrowed, because he still can't quite wrap his mind around the way Sylvain anticipates and checks areas of potential distress. It doesn't occur to him that that speaks poorly for his past experiences.

He does take the question in, rolling it around in his mind for a few silent moments before he nods once.

He -- likes the idea of being vulnerable, and the trust is there. So far every leap he's taken with Sylvain has been a positive one. ]

I think that you are very gentle with me. I will try it.

[bardische]

[ What an...odd thing to be complimented for withholding like this, but he hopes it just means Olivine is enjoying himself. That and his movements.

So Basch slips in a second finger, roughly, and quickly after a third, switching to moving his hand much more quickly as he digs nails into Olivine's tender sack and returns to biting at his ass.

He's going to give him more, but he's going to let him react and squirm and beg a little more first. ]

[massochism]

[He has his word for if it all gets too much—which it won't, of course. Basch will understand... eventually. It'll be a long process.

But the press of fingers pulls more sound from the priest, hips rising up into his hand in little shuddery movements. A sharp groan escapes him at the feeling of nails digging carefully against sensitive skin, teeth against his ass. His body, at the very least, is almost impossible to misread. He's active and sensitive, jolting and pressing roughly back into Basch's movements.

And he manages a brief time, at least, under the onslaught of sensation and want. It's not even all that intentional, but Olivine gets lost in the treatment so easily, until his body feels like an absolute mass of beautiful, awful need. A hand shifts, wanting to touch himself for a little more sensation—pauses instead and finds purchase elsewhere, making way for the shudder that runs through him.]

Hnngh... ah... please... harder, more... Basch...

[that... isn't really related to the role he's in, not in the end. There's no hesitation to it, and almost no shame at all in his pleasure from it; just that little slip with his name, and he hasn't even quite noticed it slipped out.]

i am so sorry for taking forever and then leaving you with one of the least serious things...

[fallen_cetra]

Hmmmm, makes sense to me. As long as everyone's still having a good time that's the important part.

[Yet his next words leave her flustered, and she ends up hiding her face in one of the frilly ruffles at the collar of his shirt. There was just something about the way he said it that lit her up on the inside with the giddy, fluttery feeling that she couldn't remember when the last time was that she'd felt it. Unconsciously squeezing him tighter as she giggled from the rush before he pulled away. Aerith let her hand trail across bare skin before he was out of reach, but only for a moment.

Biting her lip, her finger wound into a loose curl of hair, wrapping it tight before letting the curl spring free again. Basch might not be at his peak of health, but that didn't stop him from being handsome. Battered and scarred, and worn thin at the edges in a way that good meals and peaceful rest would surely solve in time, but she still ran her hands over his thighs, up his hips and under his shirt to grip his waist before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss at the lowest point of the plunging neckline.

Only to lean back and peer down at her own excuse of an outfit with open bafflement.]

You know, that's a great question. Um...

[A twist, peering at the overlapping straps before finding the most obvious gaps.]

Oh! It's a top and a bottom, okay, that's not so bad. I think if you just...hook your hands under this bit it can be lifted off? And the bottom bit can just be slid off like normal from what I can tell. It just looks extra complicated, I think.

[Not that it stops her from letting out a faint yip when a strap she'd tugged experimentally slipped from her grasp to snap back into place and catching her right on a tender spot, leaving her with a hand clapped over her abused nipple with a wince.]

Ow....

[bardische]

[ This is admittedly past where he'd usually tarry, at least as the one in charge, and the more unknown it gets, the more he doubts himself.

But Olivine shows no signs of discomfort. Immense desire, even. He catches that shift and redirect of a hand. Good.

If the name is a slip up, then it is a fortunate one. Something about it grounds him, reminds him that he isn't just this role -- one he isn't particularly good at. It's the delivery, really, not something he thinks about, but something he craves. Being wanted, being good.

Maybe it's not the rules of this game, but he pulls his hand out before discarding his meager undergarment. It's...odd, feeling exposed like this. For a moment he tenses, ears straining for the sound of people in the hall. But he shakes his head to clear it, reaching for the lubricant. They won't be free if they don't finish with this, and it would be rude to leave Olivine in this situation without relief.

He doesn't even notice how his mind skirts around and consideration of his own want or need, even as he lathers his hardened cock in slick oil.

It's too bad, he realizes, that the harness he wears is not on Olivine. It would give him something to pull on and guide. Alas. He'll make do with the leash, pulling it taught so that Olivine's neck is cut into lightly.

He then takes Olivine's hips firmly, lining himself up and easing in. He can be rough in a moment; he isn't going to risk this doing damage, and he wants the other to adjust to him before he moves harder. ]

Will you be able to handle me until I've finished, Olivine?

[ Perhaps the first real question he's asked, though his finishing is no concern to him. Still, he holds the leash taught with one hand, the other digging into Olivine's flesh as he starts to rock, harder, faster. ]

Will you let everyone know how good you feel?

[philancer]

[ One eyebrow arches upwards in faint surprise at that - he hadn’t though Basch would be comfortable with that sort of vulnerability, although maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised. The man seemed to go deep when he decided to surrender to something.

So he leans forward to steal another kiss from him, this one deeper, hungrier. Letting Basch taste his pleasure at that decision. At the trust he so obviously placed there between them. A reward in its own right as he slides his hands against the man’s torso, tracing over his ribs. Teasing against his nipples again as he enjoys the sounds that draws from the other man.

When he finally pulls back - more for air than anything else - he’s still smiling, warm and pleased. And then kissing his way along the inside of Basch’s thigh as he lifts his leg. ]

Alright, we’ll try it this way. Or maybe compromise. Because I think if you bend your leg for me, I can use this loop here under your knees to prop them up in the bindings instead.

[ The way this swing was set up, he was pretty sure you could secure a body in just about any pose imaginable. Maybe they’d play with that more later. Right now, he was maneuvering the looped rope into place so he could spread Basch’s legs and bind them that way, spreading him wide open for him and keeping him completely held and suspended within the cradle of the swing.

Only once that was done does he go back to kissing his way down the inside of one of the man’s thighs, his eyes locked on Basch’s face. ]

What about now? Still comfortable?

[bardische]

[ The clear surprise on Sylvain's face makes him chuckle. It hides the discomfort that perhaps he has somehow chosen wrong, been too much too quickly. It is a criticism that has been raised at him many times. All or nothing. Too intense. Too shy. Not normal. ]

Not sure what to make of me, are you?

[ But he's silenced -- and calmed -- by the way Sylvain closes the space between them, kissing with a fervor that feels different than what they've done before. Reassuring, appreciative. Basch's trust means something to him, and that has Basch moaning even before the resumed assault on his nipples.

Sylvain's smile is stunning. Not the grin he gives so easily, but this look of bliss. Basch is so lost in it that he doesn't quite process the other dipping, until there are lips at his thigh. He shudders, balance shifting and the swing rocking lightly, his stomach dropping at the sensation.

He lets Sylvain guide him, shown again and again how considerate and gentle the other is to his comfort. Even so, it's an odd sensation, his legs spread, his knees bound in place, his hands above him. When Sylvain returns to his thigh, the sensation feels increased, and he whimpers. ]

Remarkably, though I think -- I almost regret not being able to touch you back. [ His breath is airy, almost hoarse, but he holds the other's gaze, flushed with want and not embarrassment this time. ] I shall wait my turn.

[philancer]

In only the best ways. It’s a good thing, to be surprised. At least in my opinion.

[ He murmurs the words against Basch’s lips as he kisses him, but then goes back to finishing his task of securing the bindings. He’s still admiring the results of his handwork when Basch answers him and he lets his gaze travel back to meet his. Taking in that flush and letting his smile curve a little wider at the sight of it.

He hums, playful, as he continues kissing his way down the inside of Basch’s thigh, letting the swing sway with his weight a little as he lowers down to one knee. ]

Maybe I’ll just have to touch you twice as much to make up for it instead.

[ He lets his gaze travel up the line of Basch’s body from this viewpoint - especially with his legs spread, leaving him open and exposed and vulnerable. Sylvain trails a finger along the underside of his cock, still hardening visibly under the weight of his gaze now. And then lets his touch continue down until he can circle the tight ring of muscle, still slightly stretched from their coupling earlier, skin still slick with oil and probably Sylvain’s own seed within him]

Goddess, you’re such a gorgeous sight like this. I could watch you for hours.

[bardische]

[ That assertion rolls through him, warm and slow like honey. He ought not be doing this, catching warm feelings like a boy fresh to the Academy, basking in the pretty words of a man he's only just met.

But he's also had 20 years of life since then. He knows he is not the sort to feel at ease with very many, let alone buoyant with the knowledge they find him surprising or good or attractive. He still expects this to wilt with the morning, and if not with that, then with a few weeks. He knows what he is: a stick in the mud, an odd outsider, a broken, possibly cursed old soldier. He was not built for pleasure or companionship. And normally he let that steer.

But for some reason, this place, or this night, or perhaps just Sylvain, he's having a harder time worrying about the inevitable end and instead just...enjoying what he has while he has it. He kisses back warmly, sighing as Sylvain breaks off to turn his attention to his knee and inner thigh. He does not stem the languid hum of pleasure it pulls from him, nor does he struggle away from the growing arousal being so prone and so...doted on is stirring up in him. ]

I am not sure I can handle twice as much touching.

[ It's a warm tease, not a warning, his breath catching as he catched Sylvain looking. That touch makes him groan, his abs contorting and the swing swaying lightly, making his stomach bubble. He bites his lip, head tilting back as Sylvain's finger trails down and starts to tease his still-slick entrance. Stuck like this, all he can do is enjoy it. It's such a relief.

Even the compliment sticks a little better. He does not flinch or protest it, and he thinks he believes Sylvain. ]

You could not, not without touching.

[philancer]

Oh, I never said I would give up the touching. Especially if you keep making those noises.

[ The smile is audible in Sylvain’s voice as his hands tease and stroke. But it’s not long before touching isn’t enough either and he sways the swing a little closer to bring Basch within reach and bends his head to swipe his tongue up the underside of the man’s cock, only to swirl it teasingly about the tip. Enjoying the opportunity to turn the tables on him now. ]

[bardische]

Then I won't, [ Basch manages to breathe out before his voice is swallowed in a whimpering moan. Already, it's so much stimulation, heightened by how difficult it is for him to move and how the swing sways.

He curses softly as Sylvain drags his tongue up his cock, leaving it wet and wanting, teasing at his head. His sounds turn to a whine, hips trying to move, body swaying, helpless to do anything but receive and wait.

He wants, he wants so deeply.</small. ]

[philancer]

[ His hands come to grasp the swing and he decides to try something different. He lets the movement of the swing - and Basch in it - guide how deep he takes the man’s cock. Letting the motion of it drag the man close and away. It’s not perfect, but it’s just different enough to make the sensations stand out as unique.

And if he had to get a little creative to do this, then that was fine. Besides. Those noises the man made as he teased him, worked him deep and released him again, made the entire thing worth it.

At least his skill - and his oral fixation - means that this is as much fun for him, and he enjoys taking the man deep enough that his throat works around the tip, taking him deep enough that he has to relax his throat to take him deeper into it.

And through it all, he watches up the line of the man’s body, not wanting to miss any of those blissful expressions or the noises he makes. ]

[massochism]

[the mind discomforts Olivine still feels are, quite honestly, thoroughly masked by the situation. It's rather unlike what he's used to with Eiden, softer and gentler but no less hot; absent the tormenting whispers and teases, he can keep Basch better in his focus.

That helps keep his mind from wandering too far, too. It hazes over when the other pulls taut at the leash and his insides twitch, breath exhaled on a warm moan. He likes that just fine, if the way his cock twitches is to be believed.

But then, cock wet with lube, the blond slides in—it's a remarkably easy glide, even for having stretched him. Olivine is definitely tight around his cock, but there's no painful struggle to relax or more.]

Nngh... abso... absolutely. I'll take it all... Basch.

[It feels better, actually, calling him this way. Basch grips the leash and his hip—the latter, digging and rough, draws a particularly pleasant groan from him, hips jolting back into each thrust and head tilted up to keep Basch at least somewhat in view.]

Nngh... I don't think I could... stay quiet even if I wanted to...

[That's probably accurate. Olivine is capable when it's absolutely necessary—this doesn't feel necessary right now.]

seriously no worries on either. i love chaos for him

[bardische]

[ Had he said something wrong? Her face is buried in his shirt, clinging like a startled youth.

He's only left hesitating for a moment, because her hand trails up his leg, across his thigh and torso, and if he weren't already hard, he'd be there now. Her touch is so assertive, but warm. It makes he breath catch. No one has touched him like that in...a very long time.

And the way she kisses makes his stomach twist and flutter. She puts such value on him.

He wishes to live up to it.

And he smiles a little, that she doesn't know how the garment works any better than he does. It eases the discomfort of what he's wearing. Though his brows knit as she makes a sound of pain. This will prove more challenging than he expected. ]

Slow and gentle then.

[ His hands come tot he bottom portion first, tugging her up she he can get his hands under it, a barrier between the tight straps and her skin. It cuts against him, but he doesn't mind, likes the sting even. It's easy enough, to work the tight contraption down her legs, but it leaves him close to her, breath hot against her shoulders and neck, suddenly very aware of his naked arousal so close to her now bare lower body. ]

There -- now the top.

[ This is even more intimate, hands sliding up over her waist and under the straps, brushing her breasts. ]

Arms up, mm, there--

[ He works it up, careful to use his own hands to ease the straps over breast and nipple, breathing growing more ragged as he caresses her skin. It takes slow going, to get the tight pieces over her shoulders and head without disturbing her hair too badly, but then it's tossed aside, and they are near flush, both naked.

He places his hands on her sides, roaming them over her stomach and then around to her ass, testing, enjoying. Fascinated by the light discoloration and bumps left by the harness. ]

You said this would be your first cock. You are welcome to touch and explore as you desire.

[bardische]

[ He's not quite sure what Sylvain is doing, and it takes him a swing or two to realize. He breathes in sharply, worried about the depth, worried that any movement he makes will disturb the way this is set up, and then he exhales in absolute pleasure, surrendering to having to hold still as Sylvain orchestrates this.

How Sylvain takes him so well and keeps an eye is beyond Basch, and the combination of it all means he's groaning, lowly breathing the other's name, aware he's going to get louder before this is through. ]

How are you...this remarkable? [ he asks, breathless, near whimpering, before hissing his name. He's not going to last, not with all this sensation and delicious need to control his own movement. ]

Gods you feel divine.

[philancer]

[ A chuckle vibrates around the man’s length a moment before he sways back again, pulling him away from that wet heat enough for Sylvain to smirk up the length of Basch’s body. ]

You know, we’ve tried a lot of different things, but I hadn’t yet gotten to sate my own oral fetish for getting a taste of you. I may have spent far too much time thinking about exploring every inch of your skin with my tongue. Leaving marks in your flesh with my teeth.

Oh, and getting to do this…

[ Hands tug the swing back in his direction again, but this time, instead of aiming for Basch’s cock, Sylvain lets his mouth move lower. Swiping his tongue over that tight ring of muscle instead, tasting a mix of seed and the sweet tang of the oil they’d used earlier. But his real purpose is to grip the man’s hips and hold him in place now as he delves in to tease the man with his tongue, knowing he’ll still be more sensitive than normal here, after having been fucked so recently. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch’s eyes widen as Sylvia’s speaks, breath jagged from how deep Sylvain had taken him, stimulating even without the suspension and relinquishing of control.

But now he’s having to adjust his calculations, because he hadn’t accounted for the other man liking to give as well as he got — better, arguably, as he was much more creative and teasing than Basch. But he really hadn’t considered that any thought spent on him would be so thorough, and it makes him feel weak and untethered, like he wants to run and insist he isn’t worthy of that, but be it this place or the binds of the swing keeping him in place, he manages to set that aside and instead lock gazes, sitting in the odd feeling of being so desired.

Which he’s trying to process when Sylvain’s hands guide him back and his mouth moves down. He cries out, body trying to spread wider, completely overwhelmed. This is not a sensation he’s experienced before, and it’s hardly a moment before his abdomen is shuddering, body unsure how to take the wonderful feeling, mind unsure how to take this man who pushed him around so easily also wanting to put his tongue up his ass. An odd thing to feel sentimental for, but he did, some ring of trust growing tighter and deeper.

He whines, hands clenching. ]

I…want to pull your hair and wrap my legs around you.

[ A grunt of effort, then a whimpering moan. ]

[philancer]

[ A chuckle, as he teases that tight ring of muscle with his tongue, delving deeper inside before withdrawing again. Relishing the way Basch's body reacts, as if he didn't know which way to pull. He's sure the swing only emphasizes that feeling more. ]

Ahh, but then you wouldn't feel so deliciously helpless as I had my way with your body. Finding all those places that draw those needy little noises from you. Has anyone ever had you this way before, Basch? I think not, which is truly a shame. Does it feel good?

[ he doesn't bother waiting for an answer before he delves back in to repeat the torment. And lets his fingers join as his tongue spears into the other man once more. He stretches so easily now, after Sylvain had fucked him so thoroughly earlier, but his body still reacts so deliciously to all the attention. ]

[bardische]

[ The break is welcome, as is Sylvain’s warm chuckle. He’s right, too. Basch knows he’s enjoying this more for being so helpless and surrendered. The sensation, too, of the sway, the restraints, knowing Sylvia’s could guide him any way he wanted. ]

You…read me like I am obvious.

[ Not a complaint, and less shame in it than their first meeting. Sylvain clearly enjoys having him in this surrender, and that sends heat through his already flushed body, arching again at Sylvain’s tongue and fingers, sending himself bobbing and swaying. ]

No. Only you. I — [ He moans, the muscles in his abdomen clenching and jutting, cock throbbing. He’s so sensitive still, and never has he felt a tongue like this. ] You feel amazing. Every time. I don’t —

[ It’s lost, and he stops trying to speak. ]

[philancer]

Not obvious.

[ Sylvain corrects him gently as he presses open-mouthed kisses to Basch’s flushed skin. Feeling every tremble, every clench, every shudder that sweeps through the other man in his pleasure. He hums, pleased that this little venture was so well-received. He’d have to remember that for next time. He likes making Basch speechless with want. ]

But I like that you don’t try and hide it. Or fake any of it. You are open, and that is refreshing all in itself. Let yourself feel, Basch, all of it, let it wash over you. Trust me, I take every sound and shudder and cry you make as encouragement to keep giving you more. Something I doubt you have objections to.

[ He slides his fingers a little deeper into the man’s eager body, scissoring them within him. He’s still open from earlier so there’s much less resistance this time, and he finds that sensitive bundle of nerves easily as he brushes calloused fingertips over it. ]

[bardische]

[ Somehow that’s comforting. He doesn’t know why. He just…wants to be interesting. Wants to be enough to come back to.

And that’s before Sylvia’s starts listing off what he likes. Basch would protest if there were any way to, but he’s trapped, shuddering under open kisses and the onslaught of praise, speechless with the fingers in his sensitive ass. It’s so much easier to just succumb to the orders, even if they are orders that go against every habit he’s ever had.

The result is a strangled moan, embarrassment at his ever-growing want soothed only by Sylvain’s promise that he enjoys it. His stomach contracts again, knees and wrists fighting against the swing.

He’s…so glad they did this, this way. ]