primordialice | PSL - NSFW, approach with caution

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PSL - NSFW, approach with caution

- 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.

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Scar groans, head falling back. He's still sensitive from his orgasm, but his abyssal regeneration helps here too, his cock slowly hardening under Brighella's ministrations. "Like tasting your blood on me?" he rasps. Brighella's mouth is cool against his skin, and he shudders.

Brighella chuckles, scraping his teeth against the head - he's not going to be gentle, Scar, don't worry. "It tastes better on you." The flavour of the Abyss gives the sweet salt a bitter, acrid tang that he doesn't mind. It burns in his mouth, which is even better.

He works him up to fully hard again, using nails and teeth liberally to tease him with bright sharp bursts of pain. He pulls away, climbing on top of Mezzetino's body to straddle his groin, resting his knees on his hips and rubbing against the hard shaft. "Lie still now. This is all for me."

Scar's skull grins up at him, sharp teeth wide. He doesn't have much choice but to lie still, Brighella made certain of that. "All yours, my lord," he rasps tauntingly, voice still bubbling in his throat.

Brighella knew he had the gearshaft close at hand for a reason. He grabs it and leans forward, giving Scar a ringing strike to the skull with the metal rod. "Manners, Mezzo. Otherwise you won't be coming 'til the next time we fight - if then."

The size makes it a little difficult to get into position, but Wriothesley is quite determined to get that cock back inside him. The ripping pain is glorious as he finally sinks back down onto it, his breath stuttering out in a gasp and his head falling back.

Scar grunts when the strike connects. He does want to keep Brighella happy, doesn't he? And he's already gotten away with a great deal. "Yes, Lord Brighella," he rasps, a little dazed. It's strange, falling back into submitting to the other man's control when he's wearing his true skin, when he isn't small and helpless, but... they both get what they want, don't they.

And they both get what they want now--he groans, hips jerking, as Brighella impales himself on his cock. He can feel him tearing inside again, but now he's doing it to himself. Taking what he wanted from him was good, but... this might be even better.

"Good boy." Whether Scar is in his human form or his true body, he acknowledges Brighella's dominance over him, which is a warm, satisfying feeling. Though not as satisfying as the way Scar's cock splits him open.

The pain as he pushes himself down, determined to take it all the way to the hilt, is incredible - he can't imagine what kind of damage it's doing, because it all weaves together into a scorching wave of pleasure that rolls over him as he finally takes it all. It feels like the tip of Mezzo's cock is resting in his lungs, and it's perfect. It's easier to push himself back up, the blood lubricates the way, though he doesn't slide all the way back off, just partway before slamming back down to begin riding him in earnest.

Scar groans, his breathing labored, as Brighella destroys himself on his cock. Fucking him was fantastic. Lying there, bound and helpless, watching as he fucks himself on him, is something else again.

(He could call fire, could try to free himself. He doesn't. He won't. Why would he, when Brighella uses him like this?)

(He almost wishes for the weight of the collar around his throat. But the slowly healing destruction of it by the gearshaft is almost as good.)

Scar's cock is so big that Wriothesley can almost see it inside him when he looks down, outlined by a faint blue glow, though that might be a product of the delirious state of mind he can feel himself sliding into, where nothing matters except fucking himself as hard as possible on Scar's cock. His body is ripped apart and healed with each thrust, the pain always fresh and blazing, and it leaves his cock rock hard and leaking, slapping against his stomach with each thrust.

"Fuck..." Brighella's blood is searing with salt and chill, eating at him; and the slick slide of his body, the tearing every time he sinks back down, all of it is incredible. And he can see how much Brighella is enjoying himself, enjoying using Scar's body for his own pleasure, in a very different way to fucking his throat yesterday.

Convenient for him, to have a healing factor so strong that it lets him do things like this, enjoy things like the gearshaft through his lung and Scar's claws curled into his ribcage. And how much more must it hurt, tearing open anew on every stroke, than if he just stayed injured?

Scar envies him the ecstasy of it. He'll never know what it's like to have his head ripped off and come back laughing.

Brighella's orgasm slams into him like one of Scar's fists and he lets out a breathless shout - breathless because it feels like the pole in his lung is replaced with Scar's cock piercing through it.

He goes limp for a moment before he can summon the strength to pull himself off the huge shaft, the reluctant sucking sound of his body releasing it making him groan before he lies down on his chest, teasing the hole in Scar's neck with his finger. "Very good, beast."

Scar shudders at the ungentle touch to the ruin of his throat. The weight of Brighella on his chest feels so slight, like this. "You really like my true skin," he rasps. He'd said it, but that was something entirely different from fucking himself desperately on it.

"You're beautiful." If his voice is softer than usual, it's clearly just because he's still a little lightheaded from the blood loss. "Especially like this." Scar's human form is beautiful in a human way, but this is... something strange, completely alien, and desirable in a different way. It summons none of the contempt Brighella sometimes feels for humankind. He shifts forward a little further, stroking one hand along his bone jaw. "It might not show my marks quite as nicely, but it makes up for that in... other places." Like his enormous dick.

Scar's eyelids might flutter, if he had them. The sweet words, the gentle touch... Brighella uses him, destroys him, but then there is also... this.

He wants to keep it, clutch it to him, devour it like the salt-burning bites of Brighella's flesh.

He wants to be his, like this. His beast.

"Thank you, Lord Brighella," he rasps.

"My beautiful beast." Brighella pushes his finger deeper into his throat while leaning up to place a kiss on Scar's jaw. He doesn't even know how much feeling he has there, but - living bones do have nerves. He knows that perfectly well.

He feels sweat dripping down his temple and frowns, wiping it away. Keeping this form is starting to become an effort, which means he's spent an incredible amount of energy tonight. Well, it was worth it. It just means he has to get back to his bedroom before he reverts to his natural form. "I suppose I have to let you out at some point..."

Scar groans, throat convulsing around the intrusion of Brighella's finger, his breath coming short and labored. "I-if you-- please, L-lord Brighella," he manages hoarsely. The touch to his jaw is soft and cool. His cock is throbbing, but his chest feels... strange.

He doesn't want to be stuck here alone without Brighella, certainly. Though he could just go back to human form and the chains would be too big to hold him, he'd rather wait to be let free.

Brighella laughs softly as he pulls his finger out of Scar's throat, reluctantly straightening up. "You say it so sweetly, I love hearing it from you now." He pauses, then sucks his finger clean, savouring the bitter taste and the burn on his tongue before he snaps his fingers and the chains fall away from Mezzetino's limbs, leaving him free. "Come on, we should be getting back. I think we both need some rest."

He wipes more sweat away, looking around for his clothes. Absolutely nothing's in wearable condition - he'll have to start stashing clothes here if this is going to be a regular thing. Tearing him apart means his clothes get torn apart too, after all.

Scar sees Brighella looking for clothes, and... he did kind of destroy both of theirs, didn't he. "Should I portal us back to your office?" Brighella had had spare pants there yesterday, after all. He flexes his arms in their sudden freedom and sits up slowly. He should probably go back to being small, if they're going back, but... not quite yet. Not until he has to.

"That's the best idea. The last thing my recruits need is to see two Harbingers with their dicks out." It would give them ideas. He gathers up anything Scar ripped off, freezing it solid with a touch to put away for safekeeping. He didn't think he'd need to fake his death anytime soon, but it was always better to be ready. Movement was starting to feel like an effort, his body like a heavy coat that he needed to take off. He used the last scraps of his shirt to wipe more sweat away and sighed. "Come on, we should go."

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