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 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.

[primordialice]

Brighella chuckles softly as Mezzetino goes quiescent under him, starting to move steadily, rocking into him with one hand on his hip and the other in his hair, his grip still firm despite Scar's more subdued state. He's expecting a fairly quick recovery, after all. "Mmmm, I knew you'd be good like this, Mezzo, you're taking my cock wonderfully." He punctuates that with another snap of his hips. "And so tight, fuck -" It's so damn good. Other men might have trouble controlling themselves, but it'll take more to make Brighella lose himself.

[theblacklamb]

"Been so long..." Scar admits, still slow and dazed. "Too strong, too nightmarish..." And most people don't want that. And people who are afraid of him are boring.

Brighella isn't afraid. Brighella is the farthest thing from it. If Scar was an ordinary man, he might be afraid of provoking someone who can so wholly outmatch him.

He isn't.

"Can take it, take more--" He rocks back against the other man, to the degree Brighella's grip on him allows it.

[primordialice]

"You're beautiful, Mezzo. Most beautiful monster I've ever seen." His hand in Scar's hair gentles for a moment, but just a moment. "Next time I'll show you I'm serious." The thought of getting intimate with Scar in his beast form - that definitely gets his blood pumping.

"Ah-ah-ah-" Brighella chuckles, his grip tightening again. "You get more when I'm good and ready, Mezzo. This is about what I want, remember? If you want to take what you want, you'll have to beat me first."

[theblacklamb]

Scar's hands flex, black claws lengthening from his fingertips to scrape the air. He laughs, rough and breathless. "No one's ever called my real skin beautiful before..." Because even if it's the self he can be driven out of, he considers it a truer shape than this small one, cramped and pale.

Brighella actually wants him, isn't just doing this because he's available and desperate and unresisting and annoyed him into a fight?

He's never going to leave him alone, even after he has to stop playing at prisoner.

"Don't you want more? To take me?" The other man is so irritatingly difficult to goad. "At your mercy, Brigi..."

[primordialice]

Ahhh, there it is, the key to getting inside of him and never letting him escape - the need to be seen, to be desired as the monster he is rather than the human skin he's wearing. Brighella feels like Mezzetino must have felt when taking a bite out of him - it's delicious. The fact that it's true doesn't hurt, Brighella won't need to pretend to desire Scar in whatever form he's in, only makes it easier. He releases his hair to take one of his hands, stroking the long, clawed fingers. "When I felt these inside me... fuck, that was incredible."

He laughs, squeezing his hand like it's a fond joke. "Maybe if you beg a little more, Mezzo. Tell me why I should fuck you harder. Tell me how desperate you are for me."

[theblacklamb]

"You glowed so pretty when I clawed you open... You liked it, my fingers buried in your gut?" His claws curl, and he shivers at the gentle touch on them. No one likes fighting Mezzetino, either. He's too much, too destructive, too bloodthirsty and vicious. Dottore despaired of using him for anything more nuanced than aiming him in the general direction of a target where collateral damage is acceptable. He doesn't like holding back or taking care. He doesn't like being small.

"Want you, Brigi," he says. But he knows what Brighella wants to hear from him, doesn't he? "Please, Lord Brighella," and there's a breathless irony in it but also a sincere plea. "Take me, fuck me, use me, harder, please--"