Marcurio just looked at him then, calm and predatory. "I said, kneel."
Something about his tone brooked no argument. Niruin quickly obeyed, watching as the Imperial carelessly removed his own clothes, flinging all but the belt and long, narrow sash into the corner. Not bad, Niruin thought. He's got a nice body. Too bad he's crazy (but weren't all wizards?). Hopefully he's not crazy enough to kill me. Marcurio sat before him.
"Hands behind your back." Marcurio bound the elf's hands with an ease Niruin suspected was borne of practice. The Imperial was very close to him now, arms around him, cinching the knots, smelling of sandalwood, and underneath it something heavier and sharper, the scent of sweat and skin. The sash was tight around his wrists now, and it gave him a strange thrill as Marcurio stood, looking down at him, head tilted as if he were an artists surveying his latest work, slowly, almost casually stroking his cock. Niruin felt his face grow warm; he'd done plenty of debauched things in his life before, but he'd never been tied up and admired like a trophy by a smug Imperial. He was usually much prouder than this, and he looked away in confusion, not understanding why he liked it, why just the simple act of being bound had him warm and already half hard.
Marcurio's hand was soft against his face, a contrast to his rough gesture as the wizard took his jaw and forced him to look forward. "I'll have no false modesty from you, elf. You're a trollop. I can tell. I know your type. Besides, I'm going to make use of your mouth."
Marcurio buried a hand in the elf's hair, tilting his head to a suitable angle. Niruin tried not to gag as the sorcerer's length entered his mouth, touched against the back of his throat. Almost reflexively he pressed his tongue to it, and Marcurio sighed in pleasure and began, slowly, to fuck the elf's mouth. It took a moment to get accustomed to, the heat of it, the fleshy smooth feel of the other man's cock in his mouth; it was solid, thick enough that it was a bit difficult to breath.
Marcurio didn't give him long to get used it. Bending, he braced himself against the wall with one hand, looming over him, and increased his pace. Niruin swallowed, trying not to gag. His head was tipped back even further as the Imperial tugged him back by his ponytail, and the sudden flash of pain across his scalp sent a charge down his spine, so that he arched and couldn't help but moan--sometimes there was nothing better than having his hair pulled. It was nearly enough to distract him from the almost-but-not-quite-choking feel of Marcurio ravishing his throat. His eyes were tearing now, throat working convulsively to breathe, and he felt lightheaded, caught up in an overwhelming rush of dizzyness and arousal. Somewhere around the time black spots had started swimming at the corners of his vision, Marcurio's seed splattered the back of his mouth, and then he was left slumped against the wall, hard to aching, trying to gasp for air and swallow away the bitter taste on his tongue. He glanced sidelong at Marcurio, almost warily. The wizard was sitting on the floor, head tipped back to rest on the edge of the bed, panting, and for the moment, thoroughly sated.
Eventually, the Imperial looked up, and took some interest in Niruin, looking him over. "Enjoying yourself?" he said a bit snidely.
Re: Part 2
"But--apostrophes...what're you even..."
Marcurio just looked at him then, calm and predatory. "I said, kneel."
Something about his tone brooked no argument. Niruin quickly obeyed, watching as the Imperial carelessly removed his own clothes, flinging all but the belt and long, narrow sash into the corner. Not bad, Niruin thought. He's got a nice body. Too bad he's crazy (but weren't all wizards?). Hopefully he's not crazy enough to kill me. Marcurio sat before him.
"Hands behind your back." Marcurio bound the elf's hands with an ease Niruin suspected was borne of practice. The Imperial was very close to him now, arms around him, cinching the knots, smelling of sandalwood, and underneath it something heavier and sharper, the scent of sweat and skin. The sash was tight around his wrists now, and it gave him a strange thrill as Marcurio stood, looking down at him, head tilted as if he were an artists surveying his latest work, slowly, almost casually stroking his cock. Niruin felt his face grow warm; he'd done plenty of debauched things in his life before, but he'd never been tied up and admired like a trophy by a smug Imperial. He was usually much prouder than this, and he looked away in confusion, not understanding why he liked it, why just the simple act of being bound had him warm and already half hard.
Marcurio's hand was soft against his face, a contrast to his rough gesture as the wizard took his jaw and forced him to look forward. "I'll have no false modesty from you, elf. You're a trollop. I can tell. I know your type. Besides, I'm going to make use of your mouth."
Marcurio buried a hand in the elf's hair, tilting his head to a suitable angle. Niruin tried not to gag as the sorcerer's length entered his mouth, touched against the back of his throat. Almost reflexively he pressed his tongue to it, and Marcurio sighed in pleasure and began, slowly, to fuck the elf's mouth. It took a moment to get accustomed to, the heat of it, the fleshy smooth feel of the other man's cock in his mouth; it was solid, thick enough that it was a bit difficult to breath.
Marcurio didn't give him long to get used it. Bending, he braced himself against the wall with one hand, looming over him, and increased his pace. Niruin swallowed, trying not to gag. His head was tipped back even further as the Imperial tugged him back by his ponytail, and the sudden flash of pain across his scalp sent a charge down his spine, so that he arched and couldn't help but moan--sometimes there was nothing better than having his hair pulled. It was nearly enough to distract him from the almost-but-not-quite-choking feel of Marcurio ravishing his throat. His eyes were tearing now, throat working convulsively to breathe, and he felt lightheaded, caught up in an overwhelming rush of dizzyness and arousal. Somewhere around the time black spots had started swimming at the corners of his vision, Marcurio's seed splattered the back of his mouth, and then he was left slumped against the wall, hard to aching, trying to gasp for air and swallow away the bitter taste on his tongue. He glanced sidelong at Marcurio, almost warily. The wizard was sitting on the floor, head tipped back to rest on the edge of the bed, panting, and for the moment, thoroughly sated.
Eventually, the Imperial looked up, and took some interest in Niruin, looking him over. "Enjoying yourself?" he said a bit snidely.