（ the benediction of that protest is sharp and hot in his mind, lancing through his iron-banded control. he tastes blood, and realizes a moment's later it's because he's bitten the inside of his cheek to bleeding in an effort to subjugate his own awful impulses. sasuke is the only one that can get him this far, that has in thousands of years — and cy is so, so glad he cares for him enough that the love's a bulwark against all the awful things that live inside his mind.
but he laughs, the sound wintrous and cruel — and then he shoves sasuke off his lap abruptly, as if content to discard him as nothing more than a used toy. he stands, then, delivering a kick to sasuke's flank that is carefully calculated not to hit him anywhere damaging, or to hurt too much — and puts the birch rod back on the shelf. collects the crop for later cleaning. washes his hands in the standing sink in the corner of the room. not a look is spared for sasuke where he lays sprawled on the floor as cy starts ropework on the bed, cords and cuffs at each of the four posters, and a fifth and sixth from the slats atop the canopy, hanging in questionable places. once he's satisfied, he returns to sasuke in a long stride, grabbing him by the hair and by his wrist — thematically so he can't fight back, but more realistically because hauling him by the hair alone would hurt — as he drags him to the bed and then hefts him up onto the mattress. the clasped wrist is the first to be put into a cuff, closing the shackles around him and latching them, and then his thighs are wrenched apart with a punishing grip at one ankle to repeat the process. idly, as he works: ）
Pick a colour.
（ it's said so breezily, so playfully it might have no influence on all with what they're doing — but sasuke has insider information, and the dildos they brought along for use in this scene are coded by colour and size, with blue being the biggest. ）
no subject
but he laughs, the sound wintrous and cruel — and then he shoves sasuke off his lap abruptly, as if content to discard him as nothing more than a used toy. he stands, then, delivering a kick to sasuke's flank that is carefully calculated not to hit him anywhere damaging, or to hurt too much — and puts the birch rod back on the shelf. collects the crop for later cleaning. washes his hands in the standing sink in the corner of the room. not a look is spared for sasuke where he lays sprawled on the floor as cy starts ropework on the bed, cords and cuffs at each of the four posters, and a fifth and sixth from the slats atop the canopy, hanging in questionable places. once he's satisfied, he returns to sasuke in a long stride, grabbing him by the hair and by his wrist — thematically so he can't fight back, but more realistically because hauling him by the hair alone would hurt — as he drags him to the bed and then hefts him up onto the mattress. the clasped wrist is the first to be put into a cuff, closing the shackles around him and latching them, and then his thighs are wrenched apart with a punishing grip at one ankle to repeat the process. idly, as he works: ）
Pick a colour.
（ it's said so breezily, so playfully it might have no influence on all with what they're doing — but sasuke has insider information, and the dildos they brought along for use in this scene are coded by colour and size, with blue being the biggest. ）