[There's another sound muffled by the silicone toy locked in his throat, gasping at the hard squeeze to his breast that punctuates cruelty — he hears more than he sees the milk leaking from a sore nipple, dripping to the floor, messily obscene. He should have known that such a choice was an illusion. It is like Cy himself has peeled the deeper fantasy out of his mind, has read his body and his need beyond the layers of the scene. And if their roles are ever to grow into something else, his desire must be more obvious, well-known to this man's domination of him, his changing loyalty made stark. Humiliation and pain are too intricately tied, and he aches to be given both even as he plays it off as fear.
He hears the chair, picking up his head, vision blurry with tears he stubbornly holds back. The threat earns a useless strain in his restraints, voice choked on protest — there's nowhere to go and his spirited attempts to resist are futile. Yet it feels good to struggle, no matter how stripped of his freedom to communicate.
As promised, the dildo in his ass fills and thickens, a sensation at first strange and warm but soon impossible to endure quietly as it stretches his hole to a dull throb. It stifles his ability to move in what limited space he has — forcing him utterly still to bear the full, heavy girth of that toy as best he can. A whimper responds to it, muscles shivering, the steady tempo of the other dildo in his pussy never ceasing. He feels overwhelmed by the competing sensations, and then Cy is there again at his side to demand his attention.
Sasuke manages a ragged, wet gasp, his mouth still pooled with drool that drips from his chin — trying to control the in-out rhythm of breath. And then after a delay of tension, his hand forms a perfect fist.]
he will be a changed (wo)man
He hears the chair, picking up his head, vision blurry with tears he stubbornly holds back. The threat earns a useless strain in his restraints, voice choked on protest — there's nowhere to go and his spirited attempts to resist are futile. Yet it feels good to struggle, no matter how stripped of his freedom to communicate.
As promised, the dildo in his ass fills and thickens, a sensation at first strange and warm but soon impossible to endure quietly as it stretches his hole to a dull throb. It stifles his ability to move in what limited space he has — forcing him utterly still to bear the full, heavy girth of that toy as best he can. A whimper responds to it, muscles shivering, the steady tempo of the other dildo in his pussy never ceasing. He feels overwhelmed by the competing sensations, and then Cy is there again at his side to demand his attention.
Sasuke manages a ragged, wet gasp, his mouth still pooled with drool that drips from his chin — trying to control the in-out rhythm of breath. And then after a delay of tension, his hand forms a perfect fist.]