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BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
>Please post your prompts with the paired characters and any notable kinks/trigger warnings in the title.
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>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
Sithis/Commander Maro, "Penance" 4a/4b
Date: 2012-08-30 11:13 am (UTC)How long he sat there on his knees, writhing in torment, his hand working over his flesh until he could do nothing but cry and beg his lord with pennant lips, he would never know. But when at last Sithis moved that awful clawed hand and nudged his mouth away from the cock he had been worshipping with shameful fever he hardly remembered anything of the man he used to be.
“That is better, Maro. You feel it now, you want to repent. Good. You are nearly done with this night’s penance. My, but you do appear to be in such exquisite pain. Would you like relief, insolent Maro?”
In such a state Maro could hardly form the complexity of words. All he managed was nodding, desperate tearful jerks of the head as his blurry eyes looked up in awe filled fear at the god before him.
When the god spoke next his tone seemed pleased. “Mmmm. For your relief, you will beg to submit to me. You will forfeit your blasphemous body, that so offended me completely. Beg to me to use you and tonight’s torment will be complete.”
Maro was shaking, beyond all ideas of defiance, as all he wanted now was to finally be forgiven. Anything for but a moment of his Lord’s benevolence. His voice was deep and hoarse from sucking off the terrible god, lips aching with the shame that throbbed between his legs. “P-please, please Dread Father, f-fuck me. Use me. P-punish me and let me repent for my d-defiance. Fuck me h-hard, I deserve nothing less. I beg you, please…please…I need it.”
A deep laugh echoed in the silence of the void, the Dread Father seemingly amused as his dark gaze bored down into Maro’s trembling mortal form. The Maro of hours ago would have no doubt felt outraged at the mocking laughter of Sithis at his subjugated state. The man he was now was simply relieved that the god at least seemed pleased with him.
“Now there is a good boy, Maros. Turn around, I want you to offer yourself to me.”
The commander did not hesitate this time. He turned about, giving the looming god his back, and lowered his shoulders to the ground like the whores he’d paid at countless inns. It was hard to understand how vulnerable the position was until he himself was it, he found it even more embarrassing than he had imagined. Still, he did not move, Maro kept position even as his heart beat franticly and his mind flew with wild speculations as to what it would be like. He didn’t think the Dread Lord would be gentle.
After what seemed like days of waiting, the disturbing feeling of claws gliding over his flank made the commander jump. His fists clenched, but he kept himself from trying to look back. It was difficult, as he felt those terrible hands exploring his form so casually. They stroked his sides, and traced the muscles of his back. Maro actually moaned when they weighed his aching sac, and brushed over his member’s dripping tip. But those touches lasted all too briefly. Fingers and claws became more purposeful as they perused his ass, squeezing the globes of it to make him start. He recognized the building awareness the Dread Lord was causing. He stroked his bottom, grazing the entrance made humiliatingly slick from the products of his excitement just before the hands roughly knocked his knees farther apart.
The sudden openness actually made Maro yelp, his hands fisting in a futile attempt to control his fright. Sithis was rubbing his inner thighs now, claws dragging just enough to whisper pain as the commander forced himself to stay still for his lord. A rough chuckle seemed to resonate in the Void, and that frightening length finally brushed itself against him.