“So pathetic…” Ivan sighs dramatically. “Gonna cry already? Christ, you’re sobbing like a little girl.” He giggles, leaning in close to shunt the blade across the floor to a safe distance before once more grabbing him by the chin and forcing him face to face. “Open your eyes, faggot. I’m talking to you.”
“No…” Taliesin whimpers, trying like hell to fight the shiver that runs through him with every word, Ivan’s voice dripping pure malice in his ear. “Please.”
“Fucking. Look. At. Me.” Letting go of his chin, Ivan slaps him hard across one cheek and then the other with each word, drawing up a flash of pink on already heated skin but forcing Taliesin’s eyes wide open. They’re red and wet, already puffy and dilated with sensory overload, just like he’d expected. The look is rewarded with a brief repose as Ivan uses his teeth to shuck the single glove before putting his fingers around Taliesin’s throat again, squeezing more gently than before but no less menacing. He feels the heady thrum of the man’s pulse racing, confirming every other signal Taliesin is giving off. He’s good and deep, genuinely terrified.
Scrambling, Taliesin manages to get both feet flat on the floor, but the energy to even try to push the other man off of him has seeped out entirely. His body aches and more than anything he feels… helpless. Deliriously helpless and also like his weak premature ejaculation won’t be the last.
“You don’t know what I could do to you.” Ivan leans in, dropping his voice to a whispered purr against the red curve of Taliesin’s ear. “I’ve already made you bleed, do you think I would hesitate to do worse?”
Everything in Taliesin’s brain is on high alert, but the hypoxia dizzies are setting in fast. He manages a half-gasp but no words. In his current state of mind, no… no of course this Ivan wouldn’t hesitate. Then the grip on his throat is gone and he eagerly sucks air, blissfully unaware at the weight shifting off of him and more than one set of arms pulling him off the floor.
Matt allows Ivan to shoulder much of Taliesin’s dead weight, swooping in under a shoulder when Tal’s knees buckle as they lead him several feet to the bench. There’s no words spoken, none needed, as they guide him into position until he’s standing bent back over the black leather. Ivan pushes himself close and gives another nod, sending Matt skittering for the gauze pad.
“Focus!” Ivan shouts, pressing himself tight against Taliesin as he hooks the rope cuffs on the side peg just in case his knees give out again… which he thinks they just might. “Don’t you dare pass out on me, you pathetic fuck.” Smacking him hard with the back of his hand, Ivan gives him a second to come back around as he checks to see the rubber ball clutched tight in his fist.
“Sorry…” Taliesin whines, choking on the lump in his throat again but managing not to sob out loud. “Please… what are-”
“You keep talking.” Ivan takes his chance to force down Taliesin’s jeans and the sticky mess of his shorts. “But you just won’t say the one thing I want to hear from you.” When he wraps his hand around the hard shaft of Taliesin’s cock, he’s rewarded with a hollow moan that’s stopped only when the other hand presses quite deliberately just above the cut he made.
“Fuck!” Taliesin whimpers then, fresh tears rolling down his hot cheeks. “Don’t… please don’t…”
“Don’t what?” Ivan teases, giving his cock a single long stroke to draw out beads of precome on his palm. “Don’t figure out how much you fucking love this?” He chuckles, giving another strong stroke. “Don’t tell anyone you came when I beat the shit out of you?” Bringing his leg up between Taliesin’s legs, he makes a point of delivering a strong knee behind his balls, eliciting a dire yelp but also another dribble of arousal.
Taliesin nods, he thinks, but really it’s a loll of his head as Ivan’s fingers caress his fresh little cuts with stinging pain. “I’ll-” He sobs. “I’ll say it.”
“Will you?” Ivan delivers another knee, this time hard enough to slightly lift him up off the bench and then smack him back down. When he takes a half step back, it’s to gesture his chin toward Matt again - Matt, who looks on with clear fear in his eyes - and direct him toward the flogger. He reaches to Taliesin again, seizing his shirt to finish the rip and leave the tatters hanging off his shoulders. “We’ll see.”
It’s time to move fast now. Ivan can see the weakness in Taliesin’s knees, his keening edge just about ready to tip over into being utterly done. He unhooks the cuffs just long enough to roll Taliesin onto his belly, securing the bandage with a sweep of one hand masked with a hard thrust of Ivan’s hips against Taliesin’s ass. “P-pathetic.” Taliesin sobs. “I’m-m-”
“I know.” Ivan murmurs, once more securing him in place. “Don’t worry, I’ll be done with you soon.”
The warmth of Ivan’s body moves away and again Taliesin finds himself letting out a desperate wail, the tears coming on harder than before. His body aches, his sides and belly sore but far worse is the throbbing of his balls. He needs it, he knows, needs to bear the things he deserves. It’s the sudden click-click-whoosh of a fireplace lighter that signals just what that is.
Ivan lights the flogger at a distance, and then begins the slow and easy swing to keep the flames under control. The kevlar weight is familiar in his hand and while it’s been a good while since he’s had the pleasure of using it on a person, he hasn’t exactly been out of practice since rekindling his affinity for the flame. “You know what’s coming, don’t you?” He asks, mere steps away from his mark. “I bet you can smell it in the air.”
Taliesin’s knees buckle and his weight shifts for only a moment, tugging at his shoulders until he finds them again and pushes more comfortably against the table. Fuel. Leather. Sex. Blood. Sweat. Fire. There isn’t time to fully comprehend it before a wicked sting licks across his skin. At first the fire doesn’t register, only the familiar thudding of the flogger and its knots. Then it comes over him as a wave, hot and tickling his flesh as the fine hairs are singed away.
Ivan brings it back and then down again quickly, not allowing time to ruminate until he’s delivered four hard lashes in an over then under pattern across the thickest part of Taliesin’s shoulders, watching the fire skitter barely over him and leave behind a fine pink tint. It would figure that Taliesin could easily take the knobby tips and thick strands, but it’s exciting to see the fire caress and lick at his skin like a second lover.
He howls when the fifth lash hits, the warmth starts along the stripes and then radiates outward around his sides until even his belly feels as though it’s been kissed by the raw heat. His body trembles and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, only weather another strong smack and whoosh as the thongs barely catch the nape of his neck. “Please..” He whimpers, opening his eyes just enough to see the room spinning before closing them tightly once more. “I can’t-”
“You can.” Ivan growls and drops his arm, stepping a little closer and turning to the side to deliver an even harder snap of the wrist that flicks fire across the softness of Taliesin’s ass. When he cries out, it’s answered with another hard crack that leaves behind a brief flash of burning alcohol and tiny hairs that leaves his partner heaving sobs. “Three more.” Ivan threatens. “Three more and then maybe I’ll forgive you for what you did.”
“Yes!” Taliesin whimpers, his hands shaking uncontrollably but still clutching his rubber ball. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… please…”
Ivan glances up to see Matt standing only a foot or two from Taliesin’s fingers, his eyes nervously darting from the ball to Taliesin’s helpless figure to Ivan and then back again. “One.” He turns the flogger several times, letting the hiss-pop-whoosh of the flames build as he quietly moves to be behind him again, waiting until he sees Taliesin shifting and squirming, uncertain of what’s about to come. Without warning, he brings the flogger down hard on Tal’s right shoulder and his thick body jolts with it, thumping against the heavy bench. “Two.” This one comes quicker than the first, a matched smack of pink that arcs down his left shoulder blade.
Shuddering full bodied, Taliesin reels against the delicious pain. His thoughts are muddled, a dense amalgamation of yes, please, no, yes, oh god yes that tumbles from his lips as a panting moan and then loud cry of release as the third strike catches him completely at Ivan’s mercy, not a whack of kevlar strands but a slow drag of flames that licks across his thighs and then up over his ass and finally across his back until Taliesin swears he can smell sizzling meat in the air.
“Three.” Ivan chuckles low and loud, letting the sound fill the room as he casts aside the burning flogger, letting it sputter on the concrete as Matt deftly darts across the room to cover it with the fiberglass blanket and snuff it out. He doesn’t hesitate to approach this time, introducing his palms first along Taliesin’s quaking shoulders and then stroking over the inflamed skin down his back to the delightfully pink skin across his ass. He hadn’t pulled the strength in his strikes and it shows. Taliesin’s skin already bears to soft glow of minor burns but also clear points of bruising where fists and flogger met flesh.
Taliesin whimpers, digging against the bench. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s afraid of Ivan’s touch, or perhaps worse - afraid that touch will stop. His body throbs and it’s taken such a beating that he’s not sure how to even describe any of it. Then, the comparative chill of Ivan’s hands both soothes and smarts, blunt nails rake playfully over tender stripes that still feel like he’s on fire, and a strong palm idly reaches between his legs to cradle and caress his balls. “Can’t-” He grunts, but the sound is eaten by a moan when the hand on his sac suddenly moves to spread open his crack.
“The funny thing…” Ivan muses, taking away the gentle prod and scrape testing of Taliesin’s burns to ensure they’re minor at worst to fetch the small bottle of lube from his pocket, “... about alcohol, I mean… is that it’s so cold on your skin. The good stuff is, at least.” Experimentally, he drips the slick water based fluid on Taliesin’s shoulder blade, watching with no attempt to hide his grin from Matthew’s eyes but also making clear that this is merely the power of suggestion at work.
His throat is raw, but Taliesin still finds the power to cry out. “Oh god! Fuck! No!” He doesn’t let go, even as it drips down his back so painfully cold.
Ivan laughs. “Can you imagine…” He draws out the tension then, dripping more down the curve of Taliesin’s back, watching it dribble and snake down to the rise of his ass. “What it would feel like to just… burn?” He finishes his snail trail of lube by letting a very generous gout drip along the crack of Taliesin’s ass to where it clings to his fingers as he begins to stroke over the tight ring of his opening. “A tickle at first…” He drops the bottle and idly caresses the marks on Taliesin’s shoulder - his marks - as the other hand begins the steady push of penetrating him with two long fingers. “And then searing, painful scorching as it licks your flesh like no other lover.”
The unexpected sensation of soft lips and scratchy whiskers on Taliesin’s seared shoulder draws out a gasp and then another strangled sob. It’s so tender… so sweet when every atom of his body is waiting for pleasure of being stretched to become pain, to match his fearful high alert mental state. It doesn’t take long. The fingers stroke deeper into him, deliberately forcing him open wide as the deep voice tickles his ear again. “A single match bringing flame to life, setting it free to eat the fuel provided until it too is inside you.” Ivan chuckles and Taliesin is very aware that his cock is throbbing just as hard as his cuts and bruises. “That heat deep inside your very core, devouring you. Immolating everything you think you are.”
Taliesin whimpers audibly and Ivan catches his fingers hesitating on the ball, turning it in his shaking fist but not yet dropping it. Then, he whispers against Taliesin’s ear; “I could burn you.” He moans and then feels Matt close to him, the other man’s hands suddenly opening his belt and pushing down his jeans, speeding toward the conclusion it seems.
Matt murmurs into Ivan’s ear, the first thing he’s said since Tal arrived. “Fuck him. Please. He’s desperate.”
He hadn’t anticipated the tone of Matt’s voice, the interestingly sexual overtone. Still, it’s a thought to unpack later. Leaning in, letting Taliesin feel his bare pelvis on his hip, Ivan continues. “It would be easy…”
“No…” Taliesin whimpers, sucking breaths as another tremor takes him.
“Yes.” Ivan answers with a honeyed purr. “Let the fire burn…”
“Please-” When he withdraws his fingers, Taliesin forgets how to speak, how to even breathe. All he can feel is that second of gratefulness to have the touch stopped - not without a little loss too, he can’t help how good it feels to be fingered, it’s biology right? - and then the deep dread filling his belly as the solid girth of Ivan’s cock forces him wider still. He chokes, squeals, and then ends with a shaking sob. “Ahh…”
“Shh…” Ivan murmurs, brushing another kiss on a dark red welt that tastes of alcohol and char. “Just a little more, I think. Watching you suffer has really got me worked up.” He thrusts hard, the meeting of their flesh a brutal smack that drives Taliesin’s aching gut against the leather bench. “You’re a pathetic piece of shit…” He moans low and loud, barely exaggerating just how good it feels to be inside him. “...but you’ve got your uses.” Ivan grunts, letting the tension of the moment drive his hips in erratic rough thrusts. “Not to mention a nice fat ass.” He ends with a drawn hiss, both hands finding Taliesin’s thick hips and digging in as hard as his fingers can manage.
I’m meat. The thought races through Taliesin’s mind and then takes root as another hard thrust makes him feel like they’re about to topple the bench regardless of how well it’s bolted to the floor. Just flesh, worth no more than a warm punching bag turned fuck hole. Charred fatty meat.
As if reading his mind then, Ivan’s kiss becomes a piercing bite. The familiar sensation of pinprick sharp incisors going blunt with pressure makes him cry out in genuine fear. The easily bruised flesh doesn’t break, but damn if Taliesin doesn’t feel like it’s right on the cusp of letting blood. His cock twitches again and this time he feels the wash of futile need well before sticky fluids collect on the surface of the bench mid thrust, his flesh sliding along the leather and smearing his own come on his thighs as Ivan continues using his body. The sound that follows is a weepy and pathetic mournful cry. He knows somewhere deep inside that it’s what was expected of him, but that logic is long gone in the tidal wave of shame that floods his senses.
Ivan bears down the slightest bit harder, letting his tongue linger on the pink skin underneath it as he draws the dark bruise to the surface, marking his prey to not only heighten the intensity but give him a longer lasting reminder than a few shallow cuts. When he finally relents, it’s with a snarling predatory growl. “You like that, don’t you? Being my sweet little piece of flesh?” The animal instinct curling inside him slips out far too easily as Taliesin quivers underneath him, mewling and meek. Not a monster, no; far too controlled to be a monster, but a snarling hungry beast.
Taliesin sniffles, his body little more than a puddle of thoroughly abused meat and his mind curled up in the dark needy victim space. "Yes." He sobs softly. "Yeah."
"Say it." Ivan growls. "Tell me what I want to hear." His hips buckle as he seats his cock deep, letting himself savor the moment before tipping over the edge.
Fill: "Risk Aware" (Ivan/Taliesin, background Taliesin/Marisha/Matt. Please read warnings.) 4/?
“No…” Taliesin whimpers, trying like hell to fight the shiver that runs through him with every word, Ivan’s voice dripping pure malice in his ear. “Please.”
“Fucking. Look. At. Me.” Letting go of his chin, Ivan slaps him hard across one cheek and then the other with each word, drawing up a flash of pink on already heated skin but forcing Taliesin’s eyes wide open. They’re red and wet, already puffy and dilated with sensory overload, just like he’d expected. The look is rewarded with a brief repose as Ivan uses his teeth to shuck the single glove before putting his fingers around Taliesin’s throat again, squeezing more gently than before but no less menacing. He feels the heady thrum of the man’s pulse racing, confirming every other signal Taliesin is giving off. He’s good and deep, genuinely terrified.
Scrambling, Taliesin manages to get both feet flat on the floor, but the energy to even try to push the other man off of him has seeped out entirely. His body aches and more than anything he feels… helpless. Deliriously helpless and also like his weak premature ejaculation won’t be the last.
“You don’t know what I could do to you.” Ivan leans in, dropping his voice to a whispered purr against the red curve of Taliesin’s ear. “I’ve already made you bleed, do you think I would hesitate to do worse?”
Everything in Taliesin’s brain is on high alert, but the hypoxia dizzies are setting in fast. He manages a half-gasp but no words. In his current state of mind, no… no of course this Ivan wouldn’t hesitate. Then the grip on his throat is gone and he eagerly sucks air, blissfully unaware at the weight shifting off of him and more than one set of arms pulling him off the floor.
Matt allows Ivan to shoulder much of Taliesin’s dead weight, swooping in under a shoulder when Tal’s knees buckle as they lead him several feet to the bench. There’s no words spoken, none needed, as they guide him into position until he’s standing bent back over the black leather. Ivan pushes himself close and gives another nod, sending Matt skittering for the gauze pad.
“Focus!” Ivan shouts, pressing himself tight against Taliesin as he hooks the rope cuffs on the side peg just in case his knees give out again… which he thinks they just might. “Don’t you dare pass out on me, you pathetic fuck.” Smacking him hard with the back of his hand, Ivan gives him a second to come back around as he checks to see the rubber ball clutched tight in his fist.
“Sorry…” Taliesin whines, choking on the lump in his throat again but managing not to sob out loud. “Please… what are-”
“You keep talking.” Ivan takes his chance to force down Taliesin’s jeans and the sticky mess of his shorts. “But you just won’t say the one thing I want to hear from you.” When he wraps his hand around the hard shaft of Taliesin’s cock, he’s rewarded with a hollow moan that’s stopped only when the other hand presses quite deliberately just above the cut he made.
“Fuck!” Taliesin whimpers then, fresh tears rolling down his hot cheeks. “Don’t… please don’t…”
“Don’t what?” Ivan teases, giving his cock a single long stroke to draw out beads of precome on his palm. “Don’t figure out how much you fucking love this?” He chuckles, giving another strong stroke. “Don’t tell anyone you came when I beat the shit out of you?” Bringing his leg up between Taliesin’s legs, he makes a point of delivering a strong knee behind his balls, eliciting a dire yelp but also another dribble of arousal.
Taliesin nods, he thinks, but really it’s a loll of his head as Ivan’s fingers caress his fresh little cuts with stinging pain. “I’ll-” He sobs. “I’ll say it.”
“Will you?” Ivan delivers another knee, this time hard enough to slightly lift him up off the bench and then smack him back down. When he takes a half step back, it’s to gesture his chin toward Matt again - Matt, who looks on with clear fear in his eyes - and direct him toward the flogger. He reaches to Taliesin again, seizing his shirt to finish the rip and leave the tatters hanging off his shoulders. “We’ll see.”
It’s time to move fast now. Ivan can see the weakness in Taliesin’s knees, his keening edge just about ready to tip over into being utterly done. He unhooks the cuffs just long enough to roll Taliesin onto his belly, securing the bandage with a sweep of one hand masked with a hard thrust of Ivan’s hips against Taliesin’s ass. “P-pathetic.” Taliesin sobs. “I’m-m-”
“I know.” Ivan murmurs, once more securing him in place. “Don’t worry, I’ll be done with you soon.”
The warmth of Ivan’s body moves away and again Taliesin finds himself letting out a desperate wail, the tears coming on harder than before. His body aches, his sides and belly sore but far worse is the throbbing of his balls. He needs it, he knows, needs to bear the things he deserves. It’s the sudden click-click-whoosh of a fireplace lighter that signals just what that is.
Ivan lights the flogger at a distance, and then begins the slow and easy swing to keep the flames under control. The kevlar weight is familiar in his hand and while it’s been a good while since he’s had the pleasure of using it on a person, he hasn’t exactly been out of practice since rekindling his affinity for the flame. “You know what’s coming, don’t you?” He asks, mere steps away from his mark. “I bet you can smell it in the air.”
Taliesin’s knees buckle and his weight shifts for only a moment, tugging at his shoulders until he finds them again and pushes more comfortably against the table. Fuel. Leather. Sex. Blood. Sweat. Fire. There isn’t time to fully comprehend it before a wicked sting licks across his skin. At first the fire doesn’t register, only the familiar thudding of the flogger and its knots. Then it comes over him as a wave, hot and tickling his flesh as the fine hairs are singed away.
Ivan brings it back and then down again quickly, not allowing time to ruminate until he’s delivered four hard lashes in an over then under pattern across the thickest part of Taliesin’s shoulders, watching the fire skitter barely over him and leave behind a fine pink tint. It would figure that Taliesin could easily take the knobby tips and thick strands, but it’s exciting to see the fire caress and lick at his skin like a second lover.
He howls when the fifth lash hits, the warmth starts along the stripes and then radiates outward around his sides until even his belly feels as though it’s been kissed by the raw heat. His body trembles and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, only weather another strong smack and whoosh as the thongs barely catch the nape of his neck. “Please..” He whimpers, opening his eyes just enough to see the room spinning before closing them tightly once more. “I can’t-”
“You can.” Ivan growls and drops his arm, stepping a little closer and turning to the side to deliver an even harder snap of the wrist that flicks fire across the softness of Taliesin’s ass. When he cries out, it’s answered with another hard crack that leaves behind a brief flash of burning alcohol and tiny hairs that leaves his partner heaving sobs. “Three more.” Ivan threatens. “Three more and then maybe I’ll forgive you for what you did.”
“Yes!” Taliesin whimpers, his hands shaking uncontrollably but still clutching his rubber ball. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… please…”
Ivan glances up to see Matt standing only a foot or two from Taliesin’s fingers, his eyes nervously darting from the ball to Taliesin’s helpless figure to Ivan and then back again. “One.” He turns the flogger several times, letting the hiss-pop-whoosh of the flames build as he quietly moves to be behind him again, waiting until he sees Taliesin shifting and squirming, uncertain of what’s about to come. Without warning, he brings the flogger down hard on Tal’s right shoulder and his thick body jolts with it, thumping against the heavy bench. “Two.” This one comes quicker than the first, a matched smack of pink that arcs down his left shoulder blade.
Shuddering full bodied, Taliesin reels against the delicious pain. His thoughts are muddled, a dense amalgamation of yes, please, no, yes, oh god yes that tumbles from his lips as a panting moan and then loud cry of release as the third strike catches him completely at Ivan’s mercy, not a whack of kevlar strands but a slow drag of flames that licks across his thighs and then up over his ass and finally across his back until Taliesin swears he can smell sizzling meat in the air.
“Three.” Ivan chuckles low and loud, letting the sound fill the room as he casts aside the burning flogger, letting it sputter on the concrete as Matt deftly darts across the room to cover it with the fiberglass blanket and snuff it out. He doesn’t hesitate to approach this time, introducing his palms first along Taliesin’s quaking shoulders and then stroking over the inflamed skin down his back to the delightfully pink skin across his ass. He hadn’t pulled the strength in his strikes and it shows. Taliesin’s skin already bears to soft glow of minor burns but also clear points of bruising where fists and flogger met flesh.
Taliesin whimpers, digging against the bench. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s afraid of Ivan’s touch, or perhaps worse - afraid that touch will stop. His body throbs and it’s taken such a beating that he’s not sure how to even describe any of it. Then, the comparative chill of Ivan’s hands both soothes and smarts, blunt nails rake playfully over tender stripes that still feel like he’s on fire, and a strong palm idly reaches between his legs to cradle and caress his balls. “Can’t-” He grunts, but the sound is eaten by a moan when the hand on his sac suddenly moves to spread open his crack.
“The funny thing…” Ivan muses, taking away the gentle prod and scrape testing of Taliesin’s burns to ensure they’re minor at worst to fetch the small bottle of lube from his pocket, “... about alcohol, I mean… is that it’s so cold on your skin. The good stuff is, at least.” Experimentally, he drips the slick water based fluid on Taliesin’s shoulder blade, watching with no attempt to hide his grin from Matthew’s eyes but also making clear that this is merely the power of suggestion at work.
His throat is raw, but Taliesin still finds the power to cry out. “Oh god! Fuck! No!” He doesn’t let go, even as it drips down his back so painfully cold.
Ivan laughs. “Can you imagine…” He draws out the tension then, dripping more down the curve of Taliesin’s back, watching it dribble and snake down to the rise of his ass. “What it would feel like to just… burn?” He finishes his snail trail of lube by letting a very generous gout drip along the crack of Taliesin’s ass to where it clings to his fingers as he begins to stroke over the tight ring of his opening. “A tickle at first…” He drops the bottle and idly caresses the marks on Taliesin’s shoulder - his marks - as the other hand begins the steady push of penetrating him with two long fingers. “And then searing, painful scorching as it licks your flesh like no other lover.”
The unexpected sensation of soft lips and scratchy whiskers on Taliesin’s seared shoulder draws out a gasp and then another strangled sob. It’s so tender… so sweet when every atom of his body is waiting for pleasure of being stretched to become pain, to match his fearful high alert mental state. It doesn’t take long. The fingers stroke deeper into him, deliberately forcing him open wide as the deep voice tickles his ear again. “A single match bringing flame to life, setting it free to eat the fuel provided until it too is inside you.” Ivan chuckles and Taliesin is very aware that his cock is throbbing just as hard as his cuts and bruises. “That heat deep inside your very core, devouring you. Immolating everything you think you are.”
Taliesin whimpers audibly and Ivan catches his fingers hesitating on the ball, turning it in his shaking fist but not yet dropping it. Then, he whispers against Taliesin’s ear; “I could burn you.” He moans and then feels Matt close to him, the other man’s hands suddenly opening his belt and pushing down his jeans, speeding toward the conclusion it seems.
Matt murmurs into Ivan’s ear, the first thing he’s said since Tal arrived. “Fuck him. Please. He’s desperate.”
He hadn’t anticipated the tone of Matt’s voice, the interestingly sexual overtone. Still, it’s a thought to unpack later. Leaning in, letting Taliesin feel his bare pelvis on his hip, Ivan continues. “It would be easy…”
“No…” Taliesin whimpers, sucking breaths as another tremor takes him.
“Yes.” Ivan answers with a honeyed purr. “Let the fire burn…”
“Please-” When he withdraws his fingers, Taliesin forgets how to speak, how to even breathe. All he can feel is that second of gratefulness to have the touch stopped - not without a little loss too, he can’t help how good it feels to be fingered, it’s biology right? - and then the deep dread filling his belly as the solid girth of Ivan’s cock forces him wider still. He chokes, squeals, and then ends with a shaking sob. “Ahh…”
“Shh…” Ivan murmurs, brushing another kiss on a dark red welt that tastes of alcohol and char. “Just a little more, I think. Watching you suffer has really got me worked up.” He thrusts hard, the meeting of their flesh a brutal smack that drives Taliesin’s aching gut against the leather bench. “You’re a pathetic piece of shit…” He moans low and loud, barely exaggerating just how good it feels to be inside him. “...but you’ve got your uses.” Ivan grunts, letting the tension of the moment drive his hips in erratic rough thrusts. “Not to mention a nice fat ass.” He ends with a drawn hiss, both hands finding Taliesin’s thick hips and digging in as hard as his fingers can manage.
I’m meat. The thought races through Taliesin’s mind and then takes root as another hard thrust makes him feel like they’re about to topple the bench regardless of how well it’s bolted to the floor. Just flesh, worth no more than a warm punching bag turned fuck hole. Charred fatty meat.
As if reading his mind then, Ivan’s kiss becomes a piercing bite. The familiar sensation of pinprick sharp incisors going blunt with pressure makes him cry out in genuine fear. The easily bruised flesh doesn’t break, but damn if Taliesin doesn’t feel like it’s right on the cusp of letting blood. His cock twitches again and this time he feels the wash of futile need well before sticky fluids collect on the surface of the bench mid thrust, his flesh sliding along the leather and smearing his own come on his thighs as Ivan continues using his body. The sound that follows is a weepy and pathetic mournful cry. He knows somewhere deep inside that it’s what was expected of him, but that logic is long gone in the tidal wave of shame that floods his senses.
Ivan bears down the slightest bit harder, letting his tongue linger on the pink skin underneath it as he draws the dark bruise to the surface, marking his prey to not only heighten the intensity but give him a longer lasting reminder than a few shallow cuts. When he finally relents, it’s with a snarling predatory growl. “You like that, don’t you? Being my sweet little piece of flesh?” The animal instinct curling inside him slips out far too easily as Taliesin quivers underneath him, mewling and meek. Not a monster, no; far too controlled to be a monster, but a snarling hungry beast.
Taliesin sniffles, his body little more than a puddle of thoroughly abused meat and his mind curled up in the dark needy victim space. "Yes." He sobs softly. "Yeah."
"Say it." Ivan growls. "Tell me what I want to hear." His hips buckle as he seats his cock deep, letting himself savor the moment before tipping over the edge.