|snarrymod (snarrymod) wrote in snarry_games,|
@ 2008-05-29 21:47:00
|Entry tags:||entry, stepmnstr, team dragon|
TEAM DRAGON ENTRY: Stepmnstr "Seeking Silence"
Title: Seeking Silence
Genre(s): Alternate Reality *Hover/Click for Games Definition of Alternate Reality*
Prompt(s):Flesh Memory, Treasure Hunt
Rating/Warnings/Kinks: NC17; *Adult subject matter. MAJOR kink… BDSM, Wax Play, Knife Play, Bondage, Public Play (sort of), Sensation Play, OC's.*
Word Count: ~7,000
Summary: In one seeker's search for silence he finds a new beginning.
A/N (Beta's/thank-yous/et al): bella_the_dark, triciagnosis,florida_minxie and all of Team Dragon. Special thanks to the wonderful MODS!!!!!!
Disclaimer: If I owned them they wouldn't be found in the Kiddie Lit section of any bookstore. Actually if I owned them…
Harry squeezed his eyes closed under the blindfold trying to keep them from drying out. It also eased the itch that was creeping across the tip of his nose. This evening had been a complete waste of his time. Normally, he'd have been flying by now, the wonderful words of praise and comfort would have warmed him the way nothing else could. There hadn't been anyone near him since the guy with nylon ropes. Ick! Well, that guy'd had a good time but someone needed to tell him that bondage with nylon ropes was barbaric. Not to mention uncomfortable in a not-so-pleasant way.
The draft from the door caught his attention and brought him back to waiting position, in the centre of the room. Almost immediately, he was assaulted by the most unusual combination of scents. The aroma of well-worn, warm leather, a hint of fine tobacco, and the faintest whisper of something almost hypnotic, something teasing the edge of his mind. No words were spoken, which for this place was unusual. No verbal posturing, no lengthy explanations. Actually, the uncertainty was making for a nice change. He knew, by rules of this place, that his limits had been explained and agreed to by whomever entered this little room. The metallic click of an old-fashioned lighter echoed the sound of the door closing behind him.
The caress of leather against his skin caused him to shiver briefly. The push/pull of a gloved hand at his chin brought his head up, encouraging his body to follow. Standing now, he could feel those hands firmly guiding his arms as they were positioned and restrained. His torso was bent forward, parallel to the floor exposing the back of his neck, making a long slope of his back. His shivering intensified. He willed himself to stillness, to wait for what the mysterious presence had in mind. The hand slid down his back as if gentling him.
Suddenly heat danced over his skin. Abstract and random the first droplets fell. Oh! The heat! The blossoming pain! The muscles in his upper arms were traced and then encased in warm wax. His ribcage became the next section of canvas to be warmed and etched. Harry no longer cared where the wax was going. He no longer had any realisation of where those magical hands were or what designs they were drawing on the canvas of his body. He was in full flight. Nowhere near the planet and loving every second of it. Gods, he lived for this.
Slowly he realised that there was no heat on his skin. New patterns inscribed into the hardened wax to the canvas being made as the ice thin edge of a knife on his skin. The slight scritch of the blade, the sounds of breathing - both his and that of his companion, and that scent, that tantalising half recognised scent, were the anchors returning him to earth. Harry was only half-aware when his arms were slowly, carefully brought down. A warm blanket enfolded him, as he was lead to the cushions in the corner. Usually there were words of praise and reassurance to go along with the gentle touches and comfort of warm arms. Tonight however, no words were spoken even now. Had he been more aware that lack would have shocked him right back into his skin. As it was with this person, it seemed natural, normal, and above all right in a way that defied description. His heartbeat danced along his eardrums and the hairs on his arms and legs shifted with each breath. Harry floated along comfortable in the strong arms that cradled him as confidently as those hands had tortured him. Sounds of leaves dancing in a high wind, surf crashing against rocks filled his brain and a kaleidoscope of rainbows danced behind his eyelids. The warm damp rough feel of the flannel added to his contentment. If he were a cat, Harry would be purring. There was no reason to rush back to Earth. Everything he needed/wanted/could ever wish for was right here right now. This was his whole reason for being here; doing this, this was perfect.
He must have dozed off. When his eyes opened he was alone. The only sign that he had not been alone all evening, besides the lassitude that held him in place, was the short stub of a paraffin candle.
Please check your email at the club account or I'll think you don't love me anymore.
I have a dom wondering if you are going to be here this weekend? Apparently you two have played before. His scene name is silence. Let me know one way or the other by Thursday night.
yeah, I'll be there. Did he specify a time? Or anything? Seeker
Strip and as soon as you have made yourself comfortable I will be there. A reminder: safewords are Havoc and Mercury.