RP: Deeper Than Light Who: Robb McLellan and Jon Snow When: 29 June 2013 Where: Master bedroom; 915 South Van Ness, Santa Ana, Ca. Status: Complete Word Count: 5,568
With dinner leftovers tidily boxed and dishes air drying in the rack, dregs of red wine pooling bottom of stemmed balloon glasses sitting hearthside remained only sign of intimate stay-at-home date night as dusk finally gave up the ghost to became evening. Outside, street lamps flickered to life on their sleepy suburban road, sounds of summer filling the neighborhood. Children played in its driveways, carrying on with unrelenting energies while the darkened living room at 915 South Van Ness Avenue observed going-ons in complete silence. Prized JBLs normally adding to the cacophony of ambient noise rested uncharacteristically mute, the entire house settled on its foundations hunkered down and still as the grave.
Every room of the cozy three bed-two bath open plan layout except the master bedroom.
Freshly painted walls a nod to Norse and Gaelic heritages, Robb and Jon's bedroom transformed that evening into a worship of Freyja. The Lady goddess of love, sexuality, beauty, fertility, gold, seiðr, war, and death, indeed, her loyal servant Jon Snow could name offerings to each and every of her domains; if only his mouth hadn’t been preoccupied by a bright as cherries silicone ball gag.
Atop twisted claret sheets sticky with body’s heat propped the sacrificial lamb. Pressed into the mattress a sort of bizarre triangle could be drawn from shoulders to knees, then up the legs at a ninety degree angle to perky bared bottom exposed high in the air. Wrists bound to thighs in thick velcro straps completed the package, as did the clear silicone tunnel plug Robb had been continuously working in and out of his arse alongside impish grin the last half hour.
Already, Jon thought himself coming undone.
Following evening chores, Robb had taken food-stuffed and peaceful lover by the hand and wordlessly lead him into the bedroom where a wonderland of bondage lay prepped and daunting against turned-down sheets. The sight alone left him breathless and despite full belly, feeling suddenly quite starved. Freedom found in chains, a beautiful black raven behind bars now fluttered and twitched unsure of what to feel.
Fucking lamb to the slaughter, I was... Jon thought for the umpteeth time as his fingers flexed against the air uselessly. At least he had something sturdy to bite down on.