PSL - NSFW, approach with caution

[primordialice]

- If you're looking to make an appointment to speak with the Administrator, please speak with Ms. Marette at the front desk.
- If you're looking to schedule a boxing match with the Administrator, please speak with Mr. Roussimoff in the Pankration Ring.
- If you have a really, really urgent matter that desperately needs the Administrator's attention right now, please find a senior guard and relay your information to them.
- If you have a new tea variety you'd like the Administrator to try, please leave it with Ms. Marette at the front desk or knock to the rhythm of the first movement of Furina's Benevolence and he will be with you shortly.

All other matters are first come, first served.

Comments

[theblacklamb]

Scar shrugs, the movement pulling a sharp inhale when it jars the broken arm. “Fast enough. Once my Abyssal energy regenerates I’ll be fine.” He grins slyly up at Brighella. “Never been used up by just one person before.” The view of the shredded shirt clinging to the other man’s skin with sweat is very welcome. “You’re so pretty, Brigi. Glow so pretty…”

[primordialice]

"Perfect." He chuckles, patting Scar's cheek lightly. "You're not so bad yourself, Mezzo. Such pretty eyes..." Sure, he'd tried to stab them out with icicles, but that was the game, after all. "All right, let's see about this arm."

He slides off Mezzetino - somewhat reluctantly - to move over to the side with the bad arm, prodding along its length to see where the break is. He's not very gentle - after all, Scar's just lovely when he's hurting.

[theblacklamb]

Scar’s breath comes harshly with the jolts of pain as Brighella prods at his arm, his pupils blown wide. “Don’t be shy, Brigi,” he pants. The loss of the other man’s weight on top of him is a pity. “I’m at your mercy now, after all.”

[primordialice]

"That's true, isn't it? You're all used up, after all." He takes Scar's wrist and pulls, dragging the bone back into place with force, having to judge by sensation when it's in relatively the right place. Hopefully Scar's Abyssal healing will take care of the rest. He licks his lips, his own pupils just as dark. "Now, what uses could I possibly have for a used-up beast like you?"

[theblacklamb]

Scar’s rough cry turns into a long groan after Brighella sets his arm. The pain of it is bright, burning, beautiful. He flexes it, feeling the bone grind in place. “Have to repay you, for a favor like that,” he says, too breathless for his coy tone to come across. “You could take anything, didn’t even tire you out… could do anything to me and I couldn’t stop you like this.”

[primordialice]

"Couldn't stop me? You're practically begging me, Mezzo." He shifts back onto him, letting him feel his bulk as he holds him down. He slides a hand up his chest to rest on his throat, slowly wrapping his fingers around to squeeze. "Ask for it, beast. Say, 'Please, Lord Brighella, use me like you want to.'"

[theblacklamb]

Scar groans, arching up into the weight of the other man. He grins, eyes alight, revelling in the hand on his throat. “Please, Lord Brighella. Use me like you want to.” He’s breathless and hoarse from the pressure slowly choking him.

[primordialice]

"There we go, I knew you knew how to ask nicely. Good boy." He gets a stronger squeeze as a reward before Wriothesley pulls his hand away, eyes lingering on the marks his fingers left behind. "Let's see what I'm working with."

He rips off Scar's shirt, being none too gentle with his broken arm, and gets started on his pants as well - he might leave those mostly intact so Scar doesn't have to go back to the hub in the nude, but... well, he can decide later. That might be amusing.

[theblacklamb]

Scar growls again when he’s called a good boy, eyes flashing yellow. “Only if it’s worth it.”

His breath comes harshly as his arm is jarred, and he laughs. “Like what you see, Brigi? Do I meet your standards?” He reaches up and squeezes the bicep of Brighella’s bare arm, the one he tore off. “You were delicious…”

[primordialice]

"I'll make it worth it, Mezzo." He's definitely seeing advantages to training his subordinate Harbinger to accept his leash. Especially if their training sessions end like this.

"My standards are pretty high... but you're easy enough on the eyes." He squeezes one side of Scar's chest, digging his nails in with a chuckle. "I didn't know you were such a humanitarian. What'd I taste like?"

[theblacklamb]

“Have to prove it,” Scar says, breath ragged. “Prove it’s worth me coming to heel.” Dottore can smack him down effortlessly, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Mezzetino doesn’t care about pain and punishment. He wants fun.

“Delicious,” Scar repeats. “Salt and life and pain.” He bares his teeth, lengthening them into fangs. “Such a sweet mouthful.”

[primordialice]

"Of course. We both get what we want." Dottore doesn't care about anything but his damned research and that's why Brighella never got caught up in his experiments - there hadn't been any benefit for him on the other end of it. To be a good master, you have to give - though never quite as much as you take. Just enough that the servant doesn't care how uneven the scales are.

Brighella laughs delightedly, pushing Scar's lip back to get a good look at those fangs. "Oh, those are lovely aren't they... sharp, too?" He presses his thumb up against one of the longest, piercing the skin. Though there's very little blood, there's also the strange salt taste of the Primordial Sea. Wriothesley makes a small, pleased noise at the bright spot of pain. "Perfect."

[theblacklamb]

“And what do you want, Lord Brighella?” Scar’s eyes are fever-bright with anticipation. “What will you do?”

“I could get bored, just lying here,” he says, and lunges up, snapping his teeth around Brighella’s thumb. He grins through his mouthful of flesh, before he chews a few times and swallows. “Delicious.”

[primordialice]

Wriothesley grunts when he bites off his thumb, waiting for the digit to grow back before he slaps him lightly on the cheek. "You have absolutely no patience, Mezzo. Dogs who bite without permission get muzzled, you know." He sounds amusedly tolerant, like it's some silly antic Mezzetino is pulling rather than eating parts of him.

"What I want..." He licks his lips. "I want to fuck you until I'm satisfied. Whether you come or not depends on you. If you want it, you'll have to earn it." He shifts off of him. "Roll over. On your knees, hands behind your back." It would be a painful position to hold with that broken arm, but Brighella felt that Mezzetino had earned that at this point.

[theblacklamb]

"Going to muzzle me, Brigi? Take away my teeth?" He bares them again and snaps on air. "Thought you liked them." That slap was so light it was practically a taunt. "Hit me like you mean it, if you're going to."

Scar laughs, breathless. "As you say, my lord." The tone is mocking, but he still does as he's bid, rolling to kneel with his wrists pressed together behind him. His broken arm is basically straight.

[primordialice]

"I do like your teeth. I like them very much, but I don't want to waste all my time regenerating my thumbs." He'd like them even more if Scar only bit at his command, but he'll leave that part out for now. "And I'll keep that in mind, I certainly don't want to go too easy on you."

"Good. Perfect." He rests his hands on the back of his neck and there's the sensation of cold water wrapping around it and freezing in a collar. He extends a chain from there to his wrists, creating a pair of cuffs to hold his hands in place, the entire ensemble made of primordial ice. The ice on his broken arm extends up past the break, providing a bit of stability. Not out of any sense of mercy, he just would prefer not to have to bother resetting it when he's done with Scar.

[theblacklamb]

"Wouldn't just keep biting your thumb off. That would be boring. Predictable. Anyway, you put it in my mouth." He's only a little petulant.

Scar shivers, flickers of fire flaring under the ice more out of instinct than true desire to remove it, not hot enough to actually break through. "And now, Lord Brighella?"

[primordialice]

Wriothesley chuckles. "All right, all right. Fair enough." He put his thumb in a badly-trained beast's mouth, he really should have expected to get it bitten off.

"And now..." He continues what he was doing to undress Scar, yanking his pants down. "I take what I want from you. And maybe next time you'll be ready for this, unless you like how much it hurts." Yes, he's assuming this is going to happen again. Sex can be a very useful tool in the training arsenal.

Knowing better than to stick his fingers back into Scar's mouth, he spits into his hand to slick his cock up before lining it up against the chained man's entrance and beginning to thrust in.

[theblacklamb]

Scar grunts sharply and loses his balance, pitching forward without a way to catch himself. He laughs and closes his eyes, savoring the bright sting of pain and the slow burn of pleasure. "Do you like it when it hurts, Brigi? Or do you want to make me soft and sweet and easy?"

[primordialice]

Brighella laughs. "Maybe for a novelty." He likes Scar sharp and rough and vicious, but gentling him would have its appeal. He presses down between his shoulders, leaning down so his voice is low in his ear. "You'd be so pretty, blushing and begging for me like one of those little lambs on the surface."

He continues pushing in, breath coming in harsher pants as he adjusts to the incredible tightness that's wrapping around him. "Though, ah, you do feel good, Mezzo..."

[theblacklamb]

Scar's cheekbone throbs from the impact on the stone floor, possibly broken. "You like begging, don't you? Like being the one to grant mercy, or deny it."

He shifts, moving so that Brighella's cock moves within him, and his breath stutters at the sensation. "You like me at your mercy, Brigi? Chained?"

[primordialice]

Brighella presses down harder, grinding him a little more into the cold floor of the cavern. "You're talking too much, Mezzetino." It feels too much like being seen - for someone so used to being veiled in layer after layer of lies, it makes him edgy.

But the other question, that one's much easier to answer. He growls, shoving his cock in hard. "Oh, I fucking love that."

[theblacklamb]

Scar laughs breathlessly, the pain in his cheek bright and searing. "Better shut me up then, hadn't you? If I can still talk too much."

He gasps at the sudden thrust, then rocks back into it with a groan. He actually doesn't have much of a sex life since Dottore changed him--almost everyone is too afraid of him to let him that close. Brighella is a welcome exception to that, and he could almost be glad enough of it to go along even if he wasn't enjoying the specifics.

Oh, but he is.

"Not going to break, dear Brighella. Fuck me like you mean it." As long as he can talk, he's unlikely to stop goading.

[primordialice]

"Guess I'd better." He grabs hold of Scar's head by his hair and knocks it sharply against the floor. If he manages to keep talking, at least he won't be so fucking coherent about it.

Brighella hasn't had much of a sex life either, at least not since he and Regrator had stopped fucking. Around the other Harbingers he looks like he's sixteen and around the prison he's the Warden - or Lord Harbinger - professional and untouchable. He knows it wouldn't do for rumours about his tastes to get spread around, so the few times he's felt the need to let off steam it's been above the surface and in disguise. This is a nice break, even nicer since he can do whatever he wants to Mezzetino and he knows he'll take it with pleasure, even if he doesn't have the manners to say thank you.

Brighella growls like the wolf he turned into during their fight. "I'll fuck you however I please, Mezzo, and you will take it. You don't have a fucking choice, do you?" He slams his hips in, sheathing himself the rest of the way inside him. The heat is almost unbearable, but it's good.

[theblacklamb]

Scar grunts when his head is slammed into the floor and lays still for a moment, with a sharp gasp when Brighella seats himself to the hilt. "Mm... no choice," he agrees, dazed. When was the last time he was this overpowered, for anything but being strapped to a table for Dottore to examine? His head spins, and it's a good thing his face is already on the floor or his dizziness might actually affect anything. He rocks back against Brighella with a sigh. The light-headed whirling feels almost peaceful, and the other man's cock is chill inside him, and he is the closest to content he has been in years, for a moment.