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]

"Of course, Your Grace." Scar watches the glint in Brighella's eyes. He's being good. And reinforcing Wriothesley's authority over the prison, over even a Harbinger, is good, right? It's even good for the Harbingers, probably. For Brighella's cover.

He's taken aback by the victim he'd nearly forgotten about thanking him. People don't thank him. What do you even do if someone thanks you? "You're welcome," he hazards, ruffling the young man's hair vaguely. It's probably good for Fatui recruitment or something.

He follows Brighella back to his office with bated breath and without a backward glance. Extra credit for bullies. He can't wait to find out what that means.

[primordialice]

"I think you've made a fan," Wriothesley notes with amusement as they head across the walkway to the administrative office. He drops the bar behind him, making sure nobody will be able to enter without his permission. He definitely doesn't want to be interrupted.

"Now, what was all that about? Were you just looking for some action, or were you trying to earn some extra credit with me?" He hooks his fingers in Scar's collar, pulling him in close.

[theblacklamb]

Scar lets himself be pulled in, grinning crookedly at Brighella, eyes alight. "You told me it was extra credit for bullies, Your Grace. I found one." The emphasis isn't mocking, this time--more like he's tasting the words. "What does extra credit get me?"

[primordialice]

"I suppose my appreciation isn't enough?" He grins teasingly. "Come on upstairs, I have something you'll like." He leans in and gives his lip a bite rather than a kiss before pulling away to head up the spiral staircase to the large room that houses his desk and files.

Wriothesley nods towards the box on the desk. "Take a look." Inside there's a set of chains, collar, and cuffs, similar to the primordial ice chains he'd put Scar in last night except made out of polished black metal and including chains, cuffs, and a spreader bar for the ankles.

[theblacklamb]

"You didn't say appreciation." Scar runs his tongue over his bitten lip and follows. He looks into the box and his breath catches, his eyes darkening. Those would be... much harder for him to melt his way out of. He would be more genuinely helpless, not just choosing to let Brighella keep him chained.

He looks back up at Brighella, his eyes dark, and licks his lips. "Going to chain me up again, Lord Brighella?" His voice is lower, rougher.

[primordialice]

"When you look so pretty in a collar it seems like a shame to pass up the chance." He slides his hand around Scar's throat, giving it a squeeze and a shake, halfway between rough and affectionate. "Clothes off first. I don't want you making a mess."

He doesn't want Scar walking out of his office looking like he came in his pants, that's for sure. He has explanations for increased dealing with the Harbinger, but that would be a little beyond explanation.

[theblacklamb]

Scar's eyelids flutter for a moment at the grip on his neck, breath hitching at the pressure. "Like me trussed up, my lord?" he asks teasingly.

He strips efficiently, dropping his clothes on the desk next to the box. There would be little point in pretending not to be obedient right now. He's half-hard already, from anticipation alone. He looks back at Brighella expectantly. "And now?"

[primordialice]

"Oh, I certainly do." Brighella's voice has a bit of a growl in it. He can't wait to have Mezzetino chained up and on his knees for him, so he doesn't waist time, bringing out the collar to fasten it around his neck.

It's a snug fit, possibly a little too snug - it wasn't custom made for Scar, it's not like he's had time. But he's not that much larger than Wriothesley's natural form, so it should do well enough. Maybe he'll buy him some new restraints if he's very good as a treat.

[theblacklamb]

Scar swallows, savoring the difficulty of it, the way his breath comes shorter. He reaches up a hand to touch it, the chill metal steadily warming to his flesh, unlike the eternally frigid ice restraints of the day before. His eyes bleed yellow, pupils elongating.

"Like what you see?"

[primordialice]

Brighella draws his thumb under one of his eyes, admiring the pretty yellow. Wondering if he sees any different through his monstrous eyes compared to his regular ones. "You look gorgeous in that, just like I thought you would. Don't hesitate to tell me if it's uncomfortable - not that I'll do anything about it, but I do like to know." He's planning on shoving his cock down Mezzo's throat in a few minutes, so it probably won't be particularly comfortable anyway.

"Fold your arms behind your back." He attaches the chain - quite heavy - to the collar, giving it a tug. "Perfect."

[theblacklamb]

"Tight," Scar says, and grins. "And you like that." And so does he.

Scar sways a little with the tug on the heavy chain and obediently folds his arms behind his back. They're straight and solid again, enough energy regenerated for his bones to fix themselves, barely a ghost of yellow on his cheek and around his forearm to remember the injuries by.

[primordialice]

"Good." He attaches the cuffs around Scar's arms and wrists, making sure they're secured and fairly tight. The metal isn't lined, but it is smooth - though the edges haven't been filed down, so they dig in when he moves more than a little.

"Now... kneel for me." He doesn't think Scar will need help, even with his arms locked behind his back. If he's wrong and it looks like he's about to fall on his face he'll catch him, though.

[theblacklamb]

Scar leans to counterbalance as he drops to one knee, the weight of the metal pulling at him and throwing him off. He hits the ground hard, with a crack of flesh on stone, and barks out a laugh before shifting to kneel properly. He cocks his head to the side and looks up at Brighella, running his tongue over his lips. "And now, Lord Brighella?"

[primordialice]

"Sounds like it stung." Brighella's voice doesn't have any sympathy in it as he circles around behind Scar. "Very good. Spread your legs. Ankles apart." If they're not far enough for the spreader bar he'll pull them further, cuffing them in place before attaching the second chain from his wrists to the bar.

And then he's all done, restrained by chains and cuffs - there's a little slack in the chains, but not much. Scar is facing Wriothesley's comfortable desk chair, which is perfect - when Wriothesley comes back around to his front and sits, he's at just the right height to reach his cock. "Come forward, up between my legs." He'll pull his hair to guide him, making a thoughtful noise. "Can you show me your horns, my beautiful beast?"

[theblacklamb]

"A little." He might actually have fractured his kneecap. He doesn't care, though. He spreads his legs further, balance uncertain, though the bar actually helps keep him from tipping over.

He shuffles forward on his knees with a harsh exhale as the injured one grinds on the floor, moving with the tug on his hair.

Horns... he can do that. He's very happy to do that. They spiral out from his head, and his eye sockets stretch to accommodate his second set of eyes, blinking slot-eyed and balefully yellow. "Like this, my lord?"

[primordialice]

"Fuck..." There's an intrusive thought in the back of his head that says pluck one out of those pretty eyes out, keep it for yourself, he's got four, he doesn't need them all, but he ignores it. "Just like that, that's lovely." He's hard enough that it's a relief to undo his pants, just from chaining Scar up and seeing him change.

He wraps his hand around one of Mezzetino's horns, using it as a handle to pull his head down toward his cock. "I'm not going to be in the mood to do anything but leave you like this if you bite my cock off, so please keep that in mind."

[theblacklamb]

Scar laughs, low and breathless. "As you say." He doesn't particularly fancy sitting around chained up and bored without Brighella touching him, and this is supposed to be a reward, isn't it? So he'll keep being good.

He opens his mouth, shifting to take the head of Brighella's cock between his lips, swiping his tongue over the head. All Brighella's flesh tastes like salt.

[primordialice]

Just as he'd thought - boredom is a far more significant punishment to Scar than pain. Someday he'll have to teach him how to tolerate it better, but they can do that later. Right now, Scar has earned a reward, and he's going to get one.

He groans, rubbing his thumb along that sensitive part of the scalp he'd found the day before, pulling him forward to take more of his cock in his mouth. "Ahhh, good, you know how to use your mouth... that feels wonderful, Mezzo."

[theblacklamb]

Scar tilts his head into the touch, leaning forward to take Brighella deeper. The angle of his head presses the hard edges of the collar into his throat, and he chokes a little, throat spasming, but continues undeterred. The temptation to devour the salt-sweet flesh in his mouth is strong, but he's being good. If he bites it off, Brighella won't touch him.

[primordialice]

Scar's mouth is so hot around Wriothesley's cool flesh that the pleasure is already intense even from this, but he continues to press deeper, using Mezzo's horns like handles. "Choking already? This is just going to get worse then," he says cheerfully. Making Scar choke on his cock is definitely on his list of things to do right now, so everything is going according to plan.

[theblacklamb]

Scar laughs breathlessly around his mouthful. If he minded choking, he would have objected when the collar first went on, or not let Brighella put it on him in the first place. His cock is cool and salt-sweet and Scar hungers. Letting Brighella guide his head by the horns is as easy as letting him grind his face into the floor and fuck him.

[primordialice]

"Oh, if you can laugh, you've definitely got too much breath in your lungs." He pulls down hard on his horns, thrusting up into his mouth to push past his gag reflex and down his throat. He remembers how much Scar loved being used the night before and today he's going to do the same - take him exactly how he likes and let him feel the consequences.

[theblacklamb]

Scar chokes, throat spasming around Brighella's cock and against the confines of the collar, and he swipes ineffectually at what he can reach with his tongue. He can't breathe, but he doesn't struggle. He holds back his teeth. He lets Brighella use his throat.

[primordialice]

Brighella moans in approval, thrusting into the spasming heat of Scar's throat, using his horns as handles to get as much leverage as he can. "That's my lovely beast," he growls in approval. He looks down into his four eyes with a crooked smile. "So beautiful, so tight for me." Maybe he won't get him a new collar. This one seems just fine.

[theblacklamb]

If he had his human eyes, they'd be watering--his abyssal ones, somewhat to his surprise, start to leak thin trails of black ichor down his face. He can't breathe, and he's starting to feel it, throat jerking as he instinctively tries to drag in breath around the obstruction. It doesn't make him panic, though, like perhaps it should, just makes him light-headed and glassy-eyed and pliant, letting Brighella move him however he wants.