aldersprig: (lock and key)
[personal profile] aldersprig
First: M/m Keeper/Kept
Previous: Be Yourself


This chapter features a lot of description that wanders around the edges of sex without describing penetration or intercourse.
.


“Mm, Come on, lovely, you did wonderfully.” Their guests had been seen to the door, and now Timaois’ arm was around Ctirad’s shoulders. “You were a very good kitten for me. Thank you.”

Ctirad’s head was swimming. He normally had a head for alcohol, but there had been several bottles of wine, he hadn’t had anything of the sort in years, and now he was getting praised. “Thank you, sir. Thank you. I tried..”

“You did beautifully. Can you handle the stairs?”

“Of course. Could handle stairs dead-drunk and carrying three people.”

Oh, he probably shouldn’t have said that. He ducked his head and looked at his feat.

Timaois was laughing. Of course he was. This man laughed at everything.

“Good. Good boy. Come on, up with you. I’m going to pour you into bed and then we can think about more interesting things in the morning.”

Ctriad stumbled as a surge of guilt hit him. “m’ still awake, sir, can be interesting if you want to.” First he’d been too hungry and then he’d been too full and now he was too sleepy. He was seriously lousy at this.

“No, my kitten. I got you drunk, and I got you overfull, and I am not going to take advantage of you in this state.”

He must be drunker than he thought he was. “Sir? Timaios? You own me.”

“I do. And I am not going to have my first time with you be when you are too drunk to properly appreciate it.” Timaios patted Ctirad’s ass gently. “Here, up, there we go. Clothes off and into bed - that bed, there, the big one. I hope you don’t snore.”

“Nobody’s ever complained of that, sir.” He stripped off his pants, folded them and put them on a nearby bench before sliding into bed.

Much to his surprise, Timaios - similarly clad in nothing - slipped into bed next to him. “Good night, Kitten.”

“Good night, sir.” If this place got any stranger, Ctirad was going to have to relearn everything he knew.

~

His bladder woke him, and the strange warm feeling of being pressed against his Owner, and the safe feeling of his Owner’s arm over him.

He could go a long time without moving to use the bathroom. But on the other hand, Timaios seemed to like a small amount of the pretense of making his own decisions.

On the other, other hand, Timaios had said if I haven't told you to stay somewhere, and he had told Ctirad to go to bed.

In the end, the growing pressure of his bladder without the firmness of a solid stay there order to lean back against made Ctirad slip carefully out from under Timaios’ arm and very, very carefully make his way to the bathroom.

When he returned, his breath caught as he noticed Timaios was awake.

“Why don’t you turn back around-” his master began, and Ctirad tensed, even as he obeyed - “and wash yourself off all nice and good for me.” There was nothing but pleased warmth in his voice, but Ctirad had already turned around and couldn’t watch Timaios’ face. “I think you’re sober now, no?”

“Yes, sir.” He walked into the bathroom - didn’t close the door this time; he wanted Timaios to see he was doing exactly what he’d been told. “And I’m not too hungry or too full, either,” he offered, a little uncertainly.

Timaios chuckled. “Good. Good, and I am also neither too full nor too hungry nor drunk. Mmmmm,” he added, a deep rumble of appreciation, as Ctirad bent over, ass towards the bed, to let his master view him cleaning himself very thoroughly. “Mmm.. yes. That’s good. I don’t want you to chafe yourself raw, my dear kitten. That’s my job. Now come here.”

Ctirad dropped to all fours, feeling at the moment very feline - and very pet-like - and slunk across the floor as if he had his tail in the air. He felt very exposed, and very raw indeed, and his heart was pounding in his chest the way it never did when he was in a fight.

“Good. Gods, you’re gorgeous. Up here on the bed, that’s a good kitten, let me look you over.”

Timaois’ hands ran all over Ctirad, stroking, pinching, squeezing, commenting. “You’ve got some scars. And I still haven’t dealt with this awful collar.” He put his hand in the back of the collar and gave it a little tug.

Ctirad closed his eyes and let the collar press against his throat. “Hawthorn and rowan. Most were from fights.”

“Mm. Now isn’t the time to ask about the others. Let’s see.” He began murmuring, Old Tongue and Greek. It took Ctirad a moment to realize he was reshaping the collar, reforming it. “I could,” he said, as he tested the way the lighter, thinner-feeling collar pressed against Ctirad’s throat, “make you a new one. But we’re reshaping your Keeping. We’ll reshape your collar to match. Now.” He released the collar. “Onto your back, my pretty kitten, hands behind your head, and close your eyes. Knees up and spread, good boy. Tell me if I do anything you find unpleasant. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

Ctirad rolled and positioned himself, closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head - and whined. “I - sir?”

Anything you don’t like, Ctirad.”

“I don’t like having my eyes closed sir.” He spat it out as fast as he could. He couldn’t kneel or bow his head or really anything, so he held very still.

Timaios considered. “Can you leave them closed for a little while for me? Does it make you feel bad?”

“Just - just helpless, sir.”

That was the problem. Helpless wasn’t always bad.

Helpless might even be okay, with the right handler. Owner.

“All right. Keep your eyes shut for now. If it moves to actually bad, tell me. Immediately. All right?”

“Yes - yes sir.” He put his head back against the pillow and wiggled till he felt like he was in position. He was completely exposed, his spread legs showing everything off.

Hopefully Timaios liked what he’d bought.

“Hold as still as you can for me. Good kitten. Good.” Timaios’s hand settled on Ctirad’s ankle and slowly moved upwards. Ctirad could feel the bed shift as Timaios moved, coming up closer to Ctirad’s hip, as his hand brushed over Ctirad’s knee and down the slope Ctirad’s raised legs made, towards his hip. He could feel Timaios’ breath on his knee. He could feel his fingers just under his hip bone. “You’ve got a lovely body. Will you show me it as it really is?”

“…Drop my Mask, sir?” No, please no.

“Just as you did last night. I wish to know what I’m really touching.”

“In bed, sir? I mean… yes, sir.” He shifted his Mask to show his body as it truly was. “As you wish, sir.”

“Timaios,” he corrected gently. “Please.”

“…Yes, Timaios.”

“Thank you.” His hand slid back up Citrad’s leg while his other hand started downward from Ctirad’s collarbone, tracing a line down the center of Ctirad’s body to his navel. Up and down, back and forth, his hands brushing all over Ctirad’s body, but avoiding his nipples, his balls, his penis, his throat. “You’re delicious. I could eat you up.”
Ctirad swallowed and dared to speak. “I could - I could enjoy that, sir, Timaios, from you.”
There was a silence that went on long enough that he wanted to open his eyes, even though Timaios’ hands kept moving up and down, round and round. And then a soft chuckle. “That was brave of you, wasn’t it?”
“…” He didn’t want to say anything at all. But the hands had stilled now, and he wanted them to touch him more. “Yes?” he tried. “It was, uh. It was nerve-wracking?”
“And you did it anyway.” The hands started moving again. “I’m pleased. Is this too hard for you? I want you to be able to enjoy yourself.”
Ctirad swallowed a keening noise so that it almost didn’t make it out of his mouth. That wasn’t an order, that wasn’t an order, there were enough buffer words in there that - the hands had stopped. “Don’t stop, please? Please, I like it. I just…”
“Okay.” The hands began moving again. “You just…?”
“It’s hard to know what’s okay, when I can’t watch your face.”
“Then we’ll assume everything’s okay, how’s that?”
“No? No, I mean,” he swallowed down on panic. “What if I say something wrong?”
A hand pinched very lightly at the tender part of his inner thigh. “While we’re in bed, here, today, there is no ‘wrong,’ all right? I will not take offense and I will neither punish you for nor hold against you anything you say here in bed today. All right?”
“…Why?”
“Because I want you to be able to relax and just react. I want to see what you look like when you’re doing that.”

Ctirad considered that, turned it over, and then nods. “Yes, sir. I … I can do that.”

Timaios chuckled a little. “Good. Now…” He wasn’t talking anymore, but his mouth remained busy, exploring all the places that his hands hands.


React. Relax.. Ctirad convinced his mind they were orders, forced his body to relax, and let go, enjoying what Timaios was doing, feeling it, writhing under him. He lifted his hips up as high as they would go and whined when Timaios pulled away, bit his lip and, eventually, begged for more. His voice cracked and squeaked and he swore in pleasure.

When Timaios rolled him onto his stomach, the cool pillow was a relief against his face. He was relaxed, he was reacting, and he had so much room to move like this. He teased Timaios in turn, shifting and wriggling and changing the pace of his hip-rolls, until Timaios grabbed his hips with a pleased-sounding growl and put a stop to that.

When they were done, Timaios rolled Ctirad back onto his back. “You can move your hands now, kitten. And you can open your eyes. You were lovely, you know. Absolutely lovely. Did you enjoy it? Honestly?”

Honestly. Ctirad opened his eyes and looked at his Owner. Yeah, that expression looked sincere. “I did,” he answered. “I really did.”

“Good. Good kitten. I’m quite glad.” Timaios stroked Ctirad’s stomach and chest. “You’re a lot of fun, you know. And you’re beautiful, writhing beneath me. Sadly…” he sighed. “I have to do something to earn my name and my money. Let’s shower and have breakfast, and then I’ll hand you over to my staff while I handle all the boring meetings.”

“Yes, sir.” The praise was making him dizzy. Ctirad thought, as much as he didn’t want Timaios to go away, maybe a little time apart might be a good thing. He was falling fast and hard, and he didn’t really want to know what happened when he hit the bottom.


Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1349866.html

Want More?

Date: 2017-07-01 09:07 pm (UTC)
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Default)
From: [personal profile] clare_dragonfly
Awww. Don't worry, CT, Tim will be there to catch you!

Date: 2017-07-03 04:55 pm (UTC)
rowyn: (Default)
From: [personal profile] rowyn
Aww, poor l'il kitten. *pets him*

Date: 2017-07-15 10:04 pm (UTC)
thnidu: my familiar. "Beanie Baby" -type dragon, red with white wings (Default)
From: [personal profile] thnidu
Ah, my. I've been sporadic in blogland for a while and am just catching up... some. It's good to see Ctirad letting himself relax and have pleasure, and it's very good to see Timaios doing that to/for him.

Oopsen:


• now Timaois’ arm
→ Timaios’

• looked at his feat
→ feet

• “m’ still awake, sir,
→ “’m

• Timaois’ hands ran all over Ctirad
→ Timaios’
> Would a mnemonic help? That string of three vowel letters is in alphabetical order: A-I-O.

• exploring all the places that his hands hands.
→ his hands had.

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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)
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