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ᴄʏʀᴀᴍ ﹙🇴​ɥɔɐʎʌ ᴉɔ ǝ🇱​ɥ🇳​ɐ﹚ ([personal profile] hallowing) wrote2024-01-04 07:28 am
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ic inbox;

@torontonian
TEXT

AUDIO

VIDEO

ACTION

chokuto: (pic#16979478)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-08 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
[He can't give any verbal confirmation of that question. His head is hazy, eyes wet with tears, mouth messy where milk has leaked from the tight corners of lips in his efforts to swallow. There's a flicker of eyelashes, blinking rapidly to clear his glassy, out of focus vision.

Then, obediently, a slow nod is managed where Cy holds his chin.]
Edited 2024-09-08 02:45 (UTC)
chokuto: (pic#17091788)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-08 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[There is no real danger of asphyxiation within the context of the genjutsu he controls. And yet its threat manifests so he can feel it, every detail indistinguishable from reality — the squeeze of Cy's cock at the back of his throat, the blunt head sealing off that necessary path of airflow, leaving him unable to manage even ragged, desperate breaths through his nose with how wholly he's suffocated. It is a lack of control at the boundary of survival that he once would never have tolerated, but now it takes him to an utter state of surrender, so hazy and acute that it feels perfect in Cy's hands. If this wasn't an illusion, he would still trust Cy not to hurt him. Every time, he would put his safety and well-being in this man's hands and trust the outcome.

It feels so good. It feels so good — to be used like this, entirely without autonomy, Cy's murmur above his head like a salve over any itch of self-preservation that might arise. Practiced now at this act, Sasuke does as he's told and swallows hard where he can feel Cy's dick wedged against the back of his throat, working his mouth and tongue over that intrusion with devoted effort, hot and yielding in every flex of muscle. He wants to feel the rush of Cy's seed buried so deep in his throat that it is almost tasteless. He wants to drown in it, if necessary.]
chokuto: (pic#16979480)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-08 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[The intricacies of the illusion obey. If he were not himself, if he were anyone else less skilled in the art of genjutsu, with learned mastery over his clan's ancestral power — perhaps his concentration might have slipped beneath the demands of the scenario. His attention is wrapped in the physical present of his throat being used, then plugged back up with the toy while Cy's cum is still being worked down on a few residual swallows. He makes a low keening noise, muffled by silicone.

As instructed, servants begin to draw a steaming bath in the next room, lighting candles and laying out soft towels. And as instructed, the illusive second Cy appears, obedient to the demand as it settles underneath Sasuke's restrained body. Cy's voice is heavy in his ears, an intoxicative influence for how he outlines everything that is going to happen and what he expects him to do.

Five. Another noise comes gagged on the toy in his mouth, a little desperate, pleading unheard. He thrashes with sudden energy to no effect in his binds; the clone sucks at his clit, untiring, wrapping one of its arms around Sasuke's hips to close even the slightest centimeter of space and refuse any withdrawal, any reprieve. So, because Cy has asked it of him — strung up like a doll and fucked by the machine's devices — that first orgasm crashes easily through him. He shakes, feeling where his heavy breasts hang down and continue to drip milk all over the simulacrum of Cy lying beneath them.

With that tongue ceaselessly lapping at the sore, tender spot of his clit, and the dildo working into his pussy, and the other filling his ass — a second orgasm isn't far behind. Yet the third stretches the efforts of the illusion, not physically possible in such succession otherwise, and by then Sasuke has started sobbing loudly, volume stifled only by his full throat. Muscles fight against the tide of pleasure that soon bleeds into an acutely overstimulated pain, but the reflexive clench of orgasm overrides that defiant tension. He comes again, and again. Cy asked for five, but he loses count somewhere — and it seems like it never stops, air half-asphyxiated by the lack of rhythm and composure — until finally it does. There's a wet pool left on the mat where Sasuke has leaked milk from his tits and slickness from his cunt.

The clone vanishes, and a servant emerges from the other side of the room to notify Cy that the bath is ready.]
chokuto: (pic#15621139)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-09 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
[He is pliant and boneless when the restraints are worked loose, no fight left, not even the cursory suggestion of resistance — Cy lifts his feet easily off the ground, hair spilling over one of Cy's arms in a tangle of dark strands. There are places where his skin burns, chafed by cuffs or the cooling welts from a rod, bruises blooming in a constellation of abuse across his breasts and other places where Cy has grabbed him, or where he has pulled too hard against his bindings. A story of what has played out between them here, privately, together.

Coaxed into the pool, he lets himself be drawn into that embrace, water rippling around their bodies. His head rolls back against Cy's shoulder, breath caught in his teeth as those fingers pry him open to find the inside of his pussy still wet and slick with arousal. Overly sensitive after a string of orgasms, he squirms in Cy's lap. Fatigue keeps the protest as weak as a kitten.

They're in the scene, he knows, but he can't help the words —]


Then I'll stay obedient forever. So you'll never get tired of me.

[Perhaps he can play it off as a fissure in the role, the baring of that truth after Cy had forced the honesty out of him earlier.]
chokuto: (pic#16979474)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-09 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
[His mind feels fragmented, drawn by the tenderness of Cy's knuckles inside of him, by the teeth at his throat — physical sensations competing for his attention against that question. He likes the way Cy's other hand strokes at his belly, the swell accommodating the life cradled within it. The context of the scene allows him to experience how it could be, one day, if he did have Cy's children. In that moment it seems almost real, no matter how well or how effortlessly they play pretend.

There's another soft sound, his own hand chasing Cy's to lay over the palm that cups his breast.]


By being perfect for you. Devoting myself to you. Enduring you, and giving you everything you need, because I need it too. I won't lose who I am — and I'll still fight you when you want me to.

[The title of queen is meaningless with that symmetry of lust and love. And this scene is only a thin film over the mutual desire he knows they both share in a family.]

I'll have as many children for you as this body can bear. I'll never be empty.
chokuto: (pic#16070835)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-09 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
[The sudden push of three fingers leaves him full, breath falling from his lips on a stilted gasp. Even tired and worn to the threads of his limit, Cy’s touch is not refused. Even sore, achingly sensitive, his cunt clenches down onto that greater width of knuckles, unable to help the instinct. His head rests on Cy’s shoulder, eyelids flickering, color high on his face — composure ruined beneath this man’s hands.]

The world was cold without you. The days were gray and colorless. I had no warmth beside me, and I became aware of that the longer it lasted. I wondered if you had found another woman, someone more beautiful, that you preferred… I feared you wouldn’t return.

[And it is this use of another that is deliberate, an acknowledgement to the fantasy of the scene — secure in knowing it will not change Cy’s treatment of him once they leave it.]

And I felt empty. Here. [His hand slips down, touching Cy’s elbow and following a path to where the hand is submerged in water, using his palm to cover Cy’s knuckles where they penetrate him.] I wanted your cock inside me so badly it hurt. I wanted to feel your body holding me down. I wanted to feel the bruises of your strength, your ownership over me.

[Even though it makes him feel like glass, like he might break from any more pressure than this — he bucks hips forward, grinding the sore, tender nerves of his clit against the hard ridge of Cy’s palm underwater, feeling the piercing catch and rub.]

So I would do this… and imagine it was you instead, holding me still, filling me up. Coming inside of me.
chokuto: (pic#17091789)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-10 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[With his head angled back on Cy's shoulder, it's easy to turn his cheek, to look at him through wet lashes — the flush of arousal on his face is evident, even after all of this, eyes glassy and mouth bruised so red from abuse it almost appears like lipstick.]

Then use me every night. Fight your enemies on the battlefield and find me in your bed after.

[He's squirming, restless, clearly willing to wrench another orgasm out of himself no matter how much it taxes his body, or in this case his mind — the film of the illusion feels thin, a shimmering across the backs of eyelids.]

I'll go with you anywhere.
chokuto: (pic#16979478)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-10 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[The implication is clear, and Cy is correct — draining some of that power from Cy's reserve, cold and malevolently tainted by its connection to Kulo Vayn, is manageable from within genjutsu. The allowance bolsters his own strength; Cy will feel it like a pinprick through the illusion sapping that channel of vitality, though knowing his regenerative abilities it won't be an enduring discomfort. Sasuke does his best to sooth over the roughest edges — Cy will feel him take a deep breath where they're cradled together in the bath, surroundings momentarily bright and sharp, steam pluming in a fragment of light before everything settles.

He's cleaned with no agency beneath those hands that own him, that feel him in every intimate place, and then he's picked up and carried from the bath in a dripping rain of water. Toweled off, placed naked on the bed that sits low to the ground, he has to crane his head to look up at the man's intimidating height.

That directive settles through him, a flame that torches his blood, already nodding before Cy has joined him and laid down to allow the positional change. There's no hesitation as he straddles the man's hips — at this point he can only pretend his resistance for so long, even in the guise of this scene, and his discipline has weathered enough torment that is is harder not to show how much he wants this too. As much as he enjoys every act they do together, every new source and version of pleasure Cy introduces him to — that moment where he feels Cy slide inside of him, no matter the form he occupies, is breathlessly perfect. He feels empty without this intimacy. He craves it like water, like air.

It's his cunt that he slips over the head of Cy's cock and bears down, finding himself still so wet inside the accommodation is little issue, stretch managed easily after being fucked open by the toy, muscles relaxed from ceaseless orgasms. Still, there's something to be said for this skin contact compared to the detachment of the machine; he shivers, bracing his right hand on Cy's abdomen to keep himself upright, more aware than ever of the physical changes to his body. The heavy breasts, swollen belly — both are so visible in this position that he looks away, embarrassed. He likes that in this fantasy he's carrying Cy's child, but he discovers that it's vulnerable to be on display like this, as a woman, pregnant — that is it not a state inherently meant to look attractive, in his own mind.]
chokuto: (pic#16979459)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-14 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's a careful nod, unable to quite hide his own timidity at appearing to Cy in this state — as much because of the change to his form as the implication of their union together. That this is what it will be like when they have children one day, a future he wants badly enough that it aches. The emotion sticks in his throat; he swallows past it, leaning into where Cy holds his wrist, seeking comfort in the contact of skin.]

I'm all right. It's... new.

[An understatement, to say the least.]

I'm not sure how you find this attractive, though. [To get to the heart of newly discovered insecurity.] I can't move very well. I feel... heavy, on top of you.
chokuto: (pic#16979457)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-14 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[That movement, even the subtlest jolt of their hips together, is a reminder for where Cy is buried inside of him — the hard, slick sensation of where their bodies are joined together in intimate union, Cy's cock filling him, a fact softened by the swell of his belly. If he could stay like this forever, perhaps it would be enough for everything else that has happened.

It's difficult to lie down on top of Cy to reach his mouth in this form, so he tries to pull Cy up to him, to kiss his mouth.]


Okay. Then open your thoughts to me. [His right hand caresses Cy's shoulder, then slides until he's cradling him around the shoulders. His eyes must be wet, because when he blinks his vision is smudged.] I'll be careful with you.

[Touching thought, pulling it up from Cy's mind like long reams of thread — it doesn't go any deeper than the area genjutsu is already grounded, won't access more than the snatches he's borrowed from Cy's mind in the crafting of this illusion. But it is more immediate, and more prolonged, to stay in Cy's thoughts. To experience his feelings as they arise. Cy will sense it like a spark of electricity, a flame, faint and almost ticklish; he will feel Sasuke's presence as much physically as mentally, at his side, with him, on top of him as well as within him.]
chokuto: (pic#17091773)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-14 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[There was a time where he could not have handled that love. It pours out of Cy, so well-sculpted, so well-shaped that it fills every part of him, every empty crevice and crack and corner of his mind as if he has plunged himself into an ocean. The warmth closing over his head is familiar. It seems made from Cy's blood, Cy's beating heart, endless in the way of his power that Sasuke has felt before — immense, revitalizing itself instantly, a depth that drops away beneath his feet to suggest the long years Cy has lived, immortal and ancient. More than one man despite the way he appears to Sasuke in everyday life, yet no less than one whole person who has nurtured him through the worst hurts he has ever experienced. Explaining, communicating, teaching him what all of it means — shining a light into the dark to illuminate his most shameful secrets.

It feels like being in two places at once, his mind plunged into Cy's thoughts and feelings while his body exists in the illusive reality they've constructed together with his ancestors' power. Cy kisses him and it's like being cradled in a scalding heat, that love leaving bruises on his hips and scorch marks in his mind — pain that fades to a dull, pleasant ache. Only evidence of where Cy has willingly trespassed, where Sasuke has willingly surrendered himself to be touched and held in this hallowed place.

He gasps into the kiss, forgetting his own insecurity. He wonders why he had felt it at all. The tears in his eyes spill over, made from relief more than sadness, as if he is taking the first real breath of his entire life. Love tangles into the lust, inseparable, so that it becomes unclear to him which of the two precedes the other, and then Cy moves below him — inside of him — and it doesn't matter.

Cyram. He wants to rewrite himself with that name. He wants to carve it into his skin and wear it for the rest of his life.]


Cyram, [is the choked little sound he makes, knees squaring themselves on the bed to bear his weight.] Fuck me. Please. Make love to me — ruin me. [He's saying it through his own tears, rough and raspy and desperate.] I'll stay with you forever. I'll never leave you alone again.
chokuto: (pic#16979480)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-14 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[He shakes his head at those words, stubbornly defiant yet unable to put voice to the decision, that it comes as much from a rejection of the impossible as a conviction he could change that reality. Committed to his goals with a certain blindness, a ruthlessness that does not see logic when emotion is involved. Cy will still feel it between them, where their minds are married together by the Sharingan — his deep, desperate devotion at the very edge of sanity.

Mouth yielding to that push, he licks at Cy's thumb and then shivers, small cry elicited by the attention where he's already so sore and tender. It feels like he can't possibly come again — but this is an illusion, and he will, even if it pushes him to the edge of a fatigue never felt so intimately.

He doesn't have to force himself; the swell of pleasure climbs, then spills out of him in a trembling, shaking mess, slickness renewed around Cy's cock where he grinds himself, cunt a tight clench over Cy's length as the orgasm passes like a wave through every muscle. He's begging senselessly, reduced to pieces of instinct — his movements are automatic as he peels himself back to roll onto hand and knees on the bed, back curved in a slope to support the heavy weight of his belly and presenting the wet mess between his legs, slick folds of his pussy brightly red in an obscene display of what he's endured over the course of the illusion. Cy's cum is visible leaking out of him, just a little, a pearly-white shine on skin.]
chokuto: (pic#16979459)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-09-14 09:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[It is another testament to the work they've done, that he can bear to look at himself in this state at all — a peering through Cy's perspective at the indecency, bent forward on the bed, pulled to its edge so his feet hang off, toes curled, muscular thighs flexed to maintain the fold of that position. He has privacy to smother his face against the sheets in the wake of his own humiliation as well as a dark, aching arousal to hear the description Cy paints of the display. And obediently, too, he keeps it in his mind where it will sit in a reservoir of memory made permanent by the work of the Sharingan.

Only for Cy. So he'll forever know the state Cy has reduced him to, and this moment will never be lost.

Then he's touched and some of that composure fractures, moan muffled against the bed. His lower back strains with the deepened arch, thighs forced wider, aware of how bare and vulnerable he is between his legs when Cy strokes at his cunt and finds it slickly wet, folds slippery, radiating heat from that internal temperature of his body. The only resistance that meets the new intrusion is at the rim of his hole, a hitch of tightness before those knuckles push in on an effortless slide.]


... I remember. [A shy whisper.] I've thought about it since then.

[A confused attraction to the control Cy had wielded over such a necessary bodily function. He's surprised Cy revisits it here, but the effect is immediate — he squirms beneath the pressure of that hand low on his belly with nowhere to go, whining at the anticipation of what Cy seems to suggest. It takes no time at all of the glass to appear in that raised hand, full of crystal-clear water and beaded with condensation.]