Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.
I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.
The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3
A Lack of Discipline [2/?]
Date: 2013-04-03 04:12 pm (UTC)“Open it,” the Guild-Master commanded. He had the sort of voice that always got what it wanted; and expected nothing less. Dujon lowered his gaze to his right hand where a heavy brass ring decorated his middle finger.
The ace up his sleeve. If he could, he would have kissed it. It was a dented, tarnished thing; had cracked a few skulls before now. There, a splash of dried blood. The skulls of bigger men than Mercer Frey, he told himself arrogantly.He curled his hand into a fist, and slowly moved his arms as if to open the chest. Made his shoulders limp, as if he'd gone submissive.
“I'm waiting,” said Mercer. Dujon heard the smugness in the older man's voice. Saw red, and struck.
He whirled around, adrenaline lending him strength and speed. Up Dujon went with a growl, swinging his arm in a wide, practised arch. He aimed his punch, just so, so that the ring collided with the Guild-Master's temple and sent him sprawling backwards with a grunt of surprise. A lethal hit, coupled with a mixture of pleasure, pride and panic. He'd just landed a punch, a good one, on Mercer Frey.
The Mercer Frey. Quite by chance, though he was loathe to admit it.
Seize your chances, where you can Dujon. Without another minute to congratulate himself, the Breton sprang forwards with his left fist ready to drive itself into the other thief's stomach. Fighting was something he excelled in.
Wait!
No. Too late.
Suddenly an iron grip bit down on his wrist and twisted. When Dujon cried out, the cruel hand twisted further. Then, Mercer's other hand gripped the front of his shirt and threw him against the wall.
Far too late.
For the third time, Dujon felt his head crack against something and stumbled over the chest. Spots of black in his vision. Fear clogged up his lungs and made it hard to breath. Cornered again. Stupid, stupid, stupid--
“I can't tell if you're a simpleton or just suicidal,” growled Mercer Frey. Again that beautiful, deadly dagger with its almost invisible point. Dujon tilted his head sluggishly, dimly aware of the bright red blood that oozed down the side of Mercer's face. It was satisfying to see the Guild-Master's hair so rough and ruffled and his face paper-white with rage.
“I'll make things simple, shall I?” Mercer intimated, like he was letting Dujon in on a little secret.
Faster than the younger thief could see, there was a flash of black and a thin, slicing sound. A moment of dull confusion. Then, pain. Blossoming in a sharp little line down the side of his face. Blood ran quick down his cheek. It was a shallow cut, a little stinging sensation if anything. But it was meant to humiliate. The hurt was just a pleasant side-effect.
“A little incentive,” that coarse, dangerous voice. “Every time you disobey me, little thief...”
The knife twirled expertly over its master's fingers. More of that dull fear, coupled with resignation.
“I draw blood. Understand?”
Dujon blinked.
“ Understand?”
A Lack of Discipline [2b/?]
Date: 2013-04-03 04:16 pm (UTC)Dujon closed his eyes so that he didn't have to look at Mercer's disgustingly satisfied expression. Cunt he growled in his head, viciously. Dujon, pretty, too-proud creature that he was, did not take kindly to humiliation. You crazy, jumped-up, cu--
“Good.” He kept his eyes clamped shut. They felt strange, as if he had something in them. With disgust, he realised that the humiliation-- being cut by the blade, and so easily over-powered-- was threatening to bring tears to his eyes. He shut them even tighter and tried to ignore Mercer's rough fingers as they gently stole the brass ring, his pride and joy, from his hand. Mercer stripped it away, and with it went the last of Dujon's resistance.
He was curious, and opened his eyes just a crack once the horrid, teary sensation subsided, and saw the traitorous ring adorning Mercer's right hand. Then, he lifted his gaze and saw the Guild-Master's stormy eyes staring back at him.
“No sin without retribution, so the Gods say,” Mercer drawled. He raised his fist casually.
Dujon felt a weird emotion. It stirred in the pit of his stomach and drifted through his body. Some part of him was glad for the humiliation. Some tiny piece of self-loathing...
Mercer's hand-- the ring--collided with his nose.
Something crunched.
Someone swore.
Blood gushed.
Blackness.
***
A!A swears to every god there is that the next instalment has the sexy-times she's shamelessly kept everyone waiting for.
I. Am. An. Awful. Person. And an even more awful A!A. Sorry, sorry, sorry! :'(
Re: A Lack of Discipline [2b/?]
Date: 2013-04-03 04:25 pm (UTC)the anticipation A!A. Stop teasing me!
Also, I like the brief mention of Dujon's "self-loathing". I think it'd make for a brilliant bit of angst/dom+sub ;)
Re: A Lack of Discipline [2b/?]
Date: 2013-04-03 04:35 pm (UTC)I love this line! I think it really captures how I see Mercer.
Also, don't apologize A!A. As far as this anon is concerned, all this delicious cat and mouse is part of the sexy-times. =D