His code-brother finished his instructions with a rumble, with a little lick of praise that glowed in Clu's skin. He grinned, sharp, and hid it just as fast--he was feeling good, but a slave would be wary, and quick to look humbled after even a minor infraction.
The bullet vibe sat heavily, kept pressure on the juncture where he entered the hood, a ridge of texture right at the bottleneck that dragged some blood back from his cock, helped him flag in a way that meant he'd be able to take a little more.
Alpha bid him kneel, lust leaching into his words, and Clu had to wipe the smirk off his face: it sounded like Master was having fun, too.
Clu almost answered back when the test started. Yes, Master was ready on his tongue--and then it dawned on him, through the gauze of growing pleasure, that it wasn't a question. Then he really smiled, tiny and sharp, and nodded instead with a hum.
Kneeling square wasn't happening--he couldn't reach a tabletop position on his own in the harness without reconfiguring it, and he'd agreed not to take it off unless they called the game: fire for red, or without prompting for an immediate emergency, which would also stop play.
No way. Not when it was getting good. If alpha wanted him all the way down there, flat on his face like a beggar, he'd just have to push him that way.
Instead Clu sat on his haunches, perched upward, too thoroughly occupied to rest his butt on his heels. It kept a slight arch in his lower back, poking in a way that made him sit forward, an open, inviting display that was part necessity.
Clu tried to listen, head tilted like it would help, hands resting flat on his own chest.
Alpha growled his pleasure, a hot, low tone he couldn't quite hold back anymore, and Clu twinged sharp in his hood. He could hear the rustling of his code-brother fishing around in the box, but it was distant under the spreading glorious ache. He pulled in a few deep, even breaths: it helped with the all-through pressure and spread the welcome current of satisfaction, the root pleasure of lacking nothing, all the way full. Certainly he was being indulged.
It felt--was safe even the right word--a deep, total comfort that had everything and nothing to do with the actual physical sensations.
Then his alpha flicked a switch, and all Clu's newfound calm slid off into a high, surprised sound held in by bitten lips.
That was different. All the way different. Kind of like getting licked, or just barely nibbled, or the gentle steady tap of fingernails; the same tingle he normally felt from the inside out being turned inward, instead, input faintly mechanical and constant as rain.
That was good. Oh, that was good. Master hadn't forbidden it, so Clu wiggled a little, gave the feeling somewhere to go other than down the aching tip of his cock.
Then his alpha turned on the butt plug.
Clu let out a yelp. He practically bounced, with a short, hard, guttural noise of pure lust, trying to get away and only succeeding in driving it further in. He wasn't hurt--he was too wet for that. Everything was very slick, moved way too easily, and felt way too good.
Master wouldn't want him blown on their first try. He moaned for it, trying to think.
Another unbidden whine escaped as he curled forward, a deliberate driving snap of his hips that rebounded amazingly, pulled out a sharp, shocked little cry. It poked, inside, nudged hard against some inner node that spangled light hot against the back of the blindfold. He gritted his teeth, feeling it slide down again, still humming away, rubbing into the delicate flesh separating it from the soft ridge of the toy trapped in between.
His cock tried to do something it could not do, and that was the strangest, most urgent sensation he'd ever experienced.
He managed to press his buzzing balls forward on his thighs, squeezing his legs together behind himself--more out of a driving need to get everything apart a bit, seeking a way to react to one thing at a time. The posture dragged his caged cock up and out, displayed without really being prompted.
"Ah!" Sounds were still on the menu, and he gave them forthright voice. "Hah!"
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ninetydegrees
(no subject)
The bullet vibe sat heavily, kept pressure on the juncture where he entered the hood, a ridge of texture right at the bottleneck that dragged some blood back from his cock, helped him flag in a way that meant he'd be able to take a little more.
Alpha bid him kneel, lust leaching into his words, and Clu had to wipe the smirk off his face: it sounded like Master was having fun, too.
Clu almost answered back when the test started. Yes, Master was ready on his tongue--and then it dawned on him, through the gauze of growing pleasure, that it wasn't a question. Then he really smiled, tiny and sharp, and nodded instead with a hum.
Kneeling square wasn't happening--he couldn't reach a tabletop position on his own in the harness without reconfiguring it, and he'd agreed not to take it off unless they called the game: fire for red, or without prompting for an immediate emergency, which would also stop play.
No way. Not when it was getting good. If alpha wanted him all the way down there, flat on his face like a beggar, he'd just have to push him that way.
Instead Clu sat on his haunches, perched upward, too thoroughly occupied to rest his butt on his heels. It kept a slight arch in his lower back, poking in a way that made him sit forward, an open, inviting display that was part necessity.
Clu tried to listen, head tilted like it would help, hands resting flat on his own chest.
Alpha growled his pleasure, a hot, low tone he couldn't quite hold back anymore, and Clu twinged sharp in his hood. He could hear the rustling of his code-brother fishing around in the box, but it was distant under the spreading glorious ache. He pulled in a few deep, even breaths: it helped with the all-through pressure and spread the welcome current of satisfaction, the root pleasure of lacking nothing, all the way full. Certainly he was being indulged.
It felt--was safe even the right word--a deep, total comfort that had everything and nothing to do with the actual physical sensations.
Then his alpha flicked a switch, and all Clu's newfound calm slid off into a high, surprised sound held in by bitten lips.
That was different. All the way different. Kind of like getting licked, or just barely nibbled, or the gentle steady tap of fingernails; the same tingle he normally felt from the inside out being turned inward, instead, input faintly mechanical and constant as rain.
That was good. Oh, that was good. Master hadn't forbidden it, so Clu wiggled a little, gave the feeling somewhere to go other than down the aching tip of his cock.
Then his alpha turned on the butt plug.
Clu let out a yelp. He practically bounced, with a short, hard, guttural noise of pure lust, trying to get away and only succeeding in driving it further in. He wasn't hurt--he was too wet for that. Everything was very slick, moved way too easily, and felt way too good.
Master wouldn't want him blown on their first try. He moaned for it, trying to think.
Another unbidden whine escaped as he curled forward, a deliberate driving snap of his hips that rebounded amazingly, pulled out a sharp, shocked little cry. It poked, inside, nudged hard against some inner node that spangled light hot against the back of the blindfold. He gritted his teeth, feeling it slide down again, still humming away, rubbing into the delicate flesh separating it from the soft ridge of the toy trapped in between.
His cock tried to do something it could not do, and that was the strangest, most urgent sensation he'd ever experienced.
He managed to press his buzzing balls forward on his thighs, squeezing his legs together behind himself--more out of a driving need to get everything apart a bit, seeking a way to react to one thing at a time. The posture dragged his caged cock up and out, displayed without really being prompted.
"Ah!" Sounds were still on the menu, and he gave them forthright voice. "Hah!"
He shuddered. They still had so far to go.