Playing the Game, Living the Life by florida_minxie Title: Playing the Game, Living the Life Author: florida_minxie Snarry Games Prompt: Possessive Capitan's Kink: D/s plus some kink Rating: NC17 Word Count: ~800 Highlight for Warnings Enticements: *D/s, BDSM – bondage, flogging* Summary: Some things do not change over time. Thank the Gods. Disclaimer: Not mine. Truly. I just play with them and make them happier for it. Well, at least I'm happier for it. Beta: klynie1 *squishes you* Message to the capitan: You definitely made my experience with snarry_games an amazing thing, m'dear!
Playing the Game, Living the Life
"Did you think I'd fail to notice, pet?"
I shiver as his words ghost over my shoulder, cool against the sweat covering my skin. I tug against the bindings wrapped around my wrists, they groan with the weight even as they steadily pull my arms towards the ceiling and hold me in place. Then, I relax into the leather cuffs, satisfied because I know they won't give, that he won't give; I know that I am, as always, at his mercy.
"Did you honestly believe I would let such a thing pass unmentioned? That you could flirt with that little twit whilst she tended to the damage your latest heroic effort wrought?"
It never fails. A coy look, a brush of the hands, a smile that lasts just seconds longer than he deems appropriate… all it takes is any one of them. He is so easy to spur on, so easy to push until his oh-so-controlled exterior falls and the passion bubbling just beneath the surface is unleashed in a maelstrom of demands and promises that leave me marked and claimed and owned.
"You are mine, boy," he murmurs just before the flogger kisses my back for the first time, a slow heat sparking and then spreading as the next blow lands just as gently as the first. It is then I know that will be one of those sessions. He intends on taking his time tonight, building the flush of my skin and the strength of my arousal with a steady pace meant to make me shatter.
Just as I know my name, I know he will succeed.
The thought alone, memories of other nights I have been broken and torn apart only to be put together again, makes me arch, preening and displaying myself for him, using my body to do what my mouth has been ordered not to: to beg for more.
He chortles, and then, with the very next breath, whispers, "That's it, boy, give it to me," and then he increases the power of his swing, arcing the cat higher on my shoulders, each of the tails cutting sharper against my back, faster and faster until each of his accusations are met with the hiss and slap of braided leather against skin. I can only twist away from… in to… each of the heavy turns of his wrist and relish the proof that I have pushed him to this display, driven him past the point of planning and into the realm of running off of nothing more than emotion. "Come on, pet," he purrs, satisfaction dripping from his words, "show me what a little slut you are. Always wanting more – my whip, my words, my cock, wanting more of anything I'll give to you."
I whimper, biting my tongue until I draw blood just to keep from giving him the answer. To do so this soon would end the game much too early.
"It's never enough for you, is it?" He demands again, expertly raining the punishing blows along the crease where arse and thigh meet.
My vision blurs and I drop my head forward, drinking in the combination of his words and the ever-increasing pain radiating from back, arse, and thighs. It won't be long before I am begging, pleading with him to fuck me, to release me from the chains and, forgetting about the unforgiving tiles, goad him into taking me there on the floor. His next words prove he knows just how close I am.
"Tell me, boy," and the thin strips of red and black expertly snake between my legs, wrapping around the tender skin of my inner thigh, inching closer and closer to my sac. "Tell me what it would take to make you come without permission."
A gurgle works its way up my throat, bubbling out before I can stop it and then he knows. Knows all it will take is more of the same. More of his berating words, more of the stinging bites of the flogger, more of what only he is allowed to do to me.
"If I know you at all, my Harry…" and the words stop as he chuckles darkly and cants his wrist just so.
"Ahhhh, you bastard!" I shout as the cat wraps around my cock, driving painfully into the tender flesh, encasing my erection from the tip to the wiry hairs at the base.
And I come and come and come. Just as he knew I would.
The chains rattle as the spasms take over, jerking my hips forward as I pump my release into the air. Tears slide down my face unnoticed and I finally fall limp as he shelters me in his arms.
Fifteen years since we negotiated our first contract, and Severus Snape is still a possessive, jealous bastard.