Under the Hammer.
"No. I can't do this, you know I can't," Alaric muttered to himself, his eyes cast down. God it had been years since he'd last been a sub. It had been years since Tyler had left without a word and broken his confidence in everything. Ever since then he hadn't been with anyone. He couldn't even remember if he could be with anyone. He ducked his head and allowed strands of blonde hair to fall in front of his eyes. Peering over the rim of his glasses, it was the only way he could meet the Dom's eyes, he waited for the words that he knew would come.
In front of him Klaus sighed. His chocolate brown eyes fixed on the youth in front of him. How many times did they have to say this? "You can do this. Face it, you need this; you have to get over him. And it's for charity too. You can kill two birds with one stone."
"What if no one bids on me though? I can't even remember how to be a sub." The other guy had taken everything with him when he'd left. Alaric could no longer be himself around anyone for fear of making them leave. He hadn't even got an explanation from Tyler. He'd just left and disappeared and Alaric hadn't seen him since.
Klaus shook his head in exasperation. Reaching into the nearest draw, he pulled out an elegantly carved whip. He did a few test strokes through the air, allowing the familiar whooshing noise to assault the younger's ears. Almost immediately Alaric's eyes met the floor and his head dropped. "Down on your knees. In front of me. And don't look at me."
It was only seconds until Alaric had arranged himself at Klaus's feet. In moments he knew what Klaus had done. He'd proven that Alaric still had it in him. If not then he wouldn't have responded to Klaus's commands. Still, he remained silent. He would only speak if spoken to.
"And you're telling me you can't remember anything. Alaric, this is what you need. It's what your body wants. Listen to it. And anyone would be a fool to not bid on you." Klaus's words cut through Alaric's defences and he felt himself nodding in agreement. He knew Klaus understood him when the crop was placed back in the drawer and the older of the two left the room.
Only when the door slammed shut did Alaric rise to his feet.
Under The Hammer
Around you the room hushes to a quiet murmur as a man clad in a waist coat and grey trousers stepped out onto the stage. The blood red of his shirt contrasted with the pale pallor of his skin and his brown eyes quickly skimmed the audience. His blonde hair was jelled to perfection and in his right hand he loosely gripped a silver microphone.
His voice was soft as he spoke but it carried to the back of the room. "I'd like to thank you all for attending this evening, I'll be your host; Klaus Mikaelson. I hope you all find what, or who, you're looking for." He winked before continuing; "But most of all I hope you enjoy the evening and remember, all money raised goes towards charity!" The blonde man bowed before he took a few steps to the left to leave the centre stage.
A whisper of a touch to your inner thigh reminded you of your partner's presence. Heat spread down through your stockings from the palm of his hand. Slowly his fingers began to massage the skin there, tracing circles lightly over the surface. Glancing up, you lock eyes with the raven black of the man beside you. His dark hair is jelled up and to the side, allowing you to maintain eye contact with him. His mouth twitches in the hint of a smirk as his hand continues to travel up your leg.
Damon's fingers skim over the top of your stocking, his touch feather light but enough to promise you of good things later that night. The rough pads of his fingertips are like flames, lighting up your skin as they explore your thigh. Then with a flick of his wrist, they disappear and your thigh immediately feels cold without their caress.
"Remember," he whispers, his voice rough and contrasting to that of Mikaelson's. "Whoever we bid on is your choice. Just make sure you like them." His breath ghosts over your neck and his lips move over your skin with each word. They press lightly against you as if tasting your pulse. Jesus fucking Christ…
He pulls away as Mikaelson begins to speak once more. The first of many is lead onto the stage and introduced by Mikaelson along with many of their attributes. "Elijah; dominant by nature, strictly straight, and up for some kinky shit!" Mikaelson's voice is loud without the help of the microphone and as Elijah steps into the centre of the stage the hushed voices quieten for a few seconds. The man is tanned and his muscles seem to ripple with every move he makes. His dark eyes are cold and tight at the edges and his face is unforgiving. Straight away you know why he's a Dom.
The hushed voices soon peak up again as multiple people take advantage of the offer. At first no one shouts out a bid but as time passes a woman in the corner of the room plucks up the courage. "£300," she says but her voice small.
Her words seem to open a flood gate and the bidding is underway. At first the bids start fast but as the money gradually builds they gradually ebb…
"£750"
"£2000"
"£4500"
"£7000"
"£10,000"
The same woman who bid £300 shouts out the winning bid. She's a leggy blonde and her hair comes down to her waist in curly ringlets. As she goes up onto the stage you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she hands the check over. If only Damon wasn't here, you could have bid on Elijah. You could have been pinned down to the bed, gripping the headboard with your hands without any restraints needed. It was a game Damon had often played with you. Allowing you to keep your hands there voluntary held more power over you than what hand cuffs or rope ever did…
As if he can sense your thoughts, Damon's hand is back on your thigh but he doesn't turn to face you. Instead he keeps his gaze focussed on the stage. His fingers continue to travel up, past the top of your stockings, trailing over your suspenders, until the rest on the sort flesh at the top of your thigh. His fingers continue to explore you, gently kneading the folds of your labia – all while he stares straight forward, seeming unaffected by having you so close.
"Now, I want to play a little game." His voice is low and hardly breaks the silence.
You breathing stutters as a finger slips into your wet flesh. Around you you're aware of people only a few tables away. But their gaze is focussed on the auction. But for how long? You gasp as his finger gently probes you and finds your sweet spot. Fucking hell! You'll kill him when you get back later tonight! Heat pools in your groin as the palm of his hand moves across your clit. Electric shocks spasm over your body at his actions.
The only sign that he notices your arousal and need is when he leans in, his lips on the base of your throat. "When you orgasm, that's the person we'll bid on. Understood?" His domineering voice washes over you and your butter under his heated touch.
"Say 'yes, Sir." Damon growls lowly as he grinds his hand harder into your clit. Oh God, how haven't people noticed? You try to focus on the numerous people being led on and off stage – a mixture of Doms and subs.
"Yes, Sir!" You exclaim as a second finger joins the first. Heat begins to build and you fight the urge to grind yourself against his hand. Thank God the lighting is low. Its shadows lurk in the corners and dance over your table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip and you can taste the coppery tang of blood in your effort to keep quiet. The tense knots in your shoulders melt away and you lean back in your chair, your head tilted towards the ceiling.
Above you chandeliers twinkle among the murky shadows.
Mikaelson's voice over the microphone draws your attention back to the stage. You've missed the introduction of the person there but you don't care. Your breath is taken away and it's not because of Damon's skilful fingers. As the heat begins to reach its climax you're glad for the distraction.
The man, barely past his teens, stands in the middle of the stage. His blonde hair is chopped into messy waves that cover his eyes and thin black rimmed glasses perch on the end of his nose. He's wearing a standard black shirt but through it you can see slight muscle; nothing like Elijah's but muscle nonetheless. His blue eyes are down cast and his hands hide in the sleeves of his shirt. A sub. After years with Damon you can spot one a mile away.
At first the hall is silent before someone shouts out a ridiculously low bid.
"£10"
Almost immediately the man's eyes flicker up to the bidder. The bidder is a tall man, stockier than the man on stage and his hair is darker. You can almost see the arrogant waves rolling from him. Panic clouds the blonde's eyes and he glances quickly towards Mikaelson. Is it the low bid that's scared him? The shame of having no one else bid? Or does he have history with the other male?
Somehow, you know it has something to do with both the bidder and the low sum of money offered.
Damon's palm continues to tease your clit beneath your bunched up skirt. The familiar tingle continues to build towards its crescendo. Your hips gently rock against his hand despite your best effort to keep still. His fingers hook inside you, scraping the rough fingertips across your sweet spot. Your breathing hitches and your breasts push against the fabric of your lace top. Damon allows you to chase your orgasm for a while before he ends his game with a sharp flick to your clit.
You cry out lowly, attracting the gaze of multiple people. To cover your noise, Damon bids on the blonde man. "£100" You don't care that even more people are looking at you because of your outrageous bid. You know what you're thinking, the same thing you've thought multiple times at these auctions; how is that person worth that much? But your thoughts are pushed away as your orgasm continues to rip through your body. Damon's fingers still haven't left your body. The huskiness of his voice shows that he's not at unaffected as he seems. Your muscles continue to clench around his fingers and you glance at him out of your eye corner.
"That's it, good. Now wasn't that interesting?" You shoot him a look of daggers. The both of you have an equal relationship; sometimes he's the Dom and you're the sub, other times the roles are reversed. There has been many a time that you've had him suspended on the wooden cross while you've raised a crop to his flesh.
"If you can call it that." He removes his fingers from you and brings them to his mouth. You see his tongue flick over the digits, cleaning away your tangy essence.
Damon smirks his one-hundred kilowatt smirk before turning to the people who have been looking in at your display. "There's nothing like a little bit of voyeurism, is there?" His tone is indifferent and they don't know if he's joking or not. He does this to make people squirm beneath his gaze. It's no doubt the tone he'll use on your purchase later that evening.
"£300" An extra bid joins yours. Straight away you know it's from the previous bidder. There's a gleam to the man's eyes as he trails his heated gaze over your soon to be purchase.
But you aren't deterred. Recovering from your orgasm, you call out your own bid. "£500" Your voice isn't loud but everyone hushes at the sound of it. You and Damon are infamous in this underground. The only one above you is Mikaelson. With his money and connections it's foolish for anyone to go against him.
Again the other man bids. "£600." His eyes flicker over to your table.
"Keep bidding all you want." Damon's voice is as rough as his fingertips. At the sound of it your mind flashes to the events that are sure to happen later that night. "I'll just keep going higher. And higher; until your bid is nothing but a disgrace to yourself. Now if you wish to withdraw…" His voice trails off but the threat still lingers.
The man shakes his head.
Damon shrugs his shoulder and looks towards you. "You pick, love. After all, you're the one who wants him." The way in which he was chosen flashes through your mind. If you weren't used to Damon's activities you'd have blushed.
You run the tip of your tongue over your lips as you think. Moments later you speak. "I always do like a good sixty-nine. So, £6969" Across the room you hear a squeak from the other man and he hangs his head and shakes it. The man is yours and Damon's to do as you please with.
Hearing the amount of money been paid, the man locks his gaze with yours. He'll pay for that later. No sub should ever meet its Dom's eyes. You wink at him and watch as a fiery blush lights up his cheeks. Lovely; he might not be a virgin but he certainly acts it.
Damon's hand grips your own and he leans in to murmur into your ear. "Good choice. This is why I love you. Now come," he smirks at you. "I mean no pun intended, but of course, there will be plenty of time for that too. We need to collect him before the poor child faints."
Under The Hammer
Alaric's knees began to shake as his gaze locked with the woman of the pair. She was in black stockings and suspenders and her skirt was dangerously high, showing her black lace frenchies with every step she took. Her eyes did a quick once over him but she didn't smile. Instead she remained impassive beside the hard gaze of the man beside her. His dark eyes were hard and his lips were tight. Were they happy with him? Or did they regret it?
As they neared he watched the man unhook a hidden riding crop from his belt. It was black with a tiny red inscription sewn down the side. The leather at the end looked crisp and Alaric could already feel the sting as it connected with his bare flesh.
With a startle of recognition, he realised that these two people were the ones that Klaus had warned him of earlier. They were notorious in the underground for being the only ones to rival his influence. The two of them were like a double-edged blade. They worked off each other and were known for being particularly harsh on anyone beneath them. Between the two of them they'd broken some of the most seasoned Doms into being submissive in a single night. How was he going to survive them? Compared to them, the things Tyler had once done to him would have been mild…
Tyler; he'd been the other bidder. What did he want with him? He hadn't seen him for years and even if he had been here, he wouldn't have expected him to bid. What the fuck did he want?
A click of fingers in front of him had him snapping his head up. His eyes met with those of the man, his dark eyes deep yet not giving any hints of what was to come. When Alaric met his eyes they glazed over and his jaw clenched. "Consider that the last time you look at either of us in the eye, say yes if you understand."
"Yes," he said lowly, his gaze averted. It had been years since he'd been commanded to do anything. Besides when Klaus had forced him into this.
For the first time the woman spoke but he refused to look up. "Yes what?" Her voice was like music; but beneath the calmness radiated a more domineering tone than that of the man's. She would be the main one. The man had already offered him a kindness by not punishing Alaric for his misdeed earlier. "They just don't train them like they used to, do they?"
At her words Alaric was brought back from his reverie. Remembering all the training Tyler had given him, he answered. "Yes, Sir. Yes, Mistress, I understand."
"Good, now we need your name. Just your first will do. We don't plan to get to know you that well."
He still didn't raise his voice or his eyes as he responded to the man's question. "Alaric, Sir."
"And how long as it been since you've done anything with a man? Or anything with anyone dominant?"
Alaric felt his blush brighten as he counted back the years. It was simple enough. He hadn't been with anyone since breaking up with Tyler all those years ago. Would that put them off him? Would they wish for their money back? But if they learnt that he had only been with one person, would they be harsh on him? To try and break him back into the role of a sub?
"We'd like an answer now. And don't lie either. We'll know." The woman's voice was cold and Alaric studied his shoes as he answered.
"Five years, Mistress."
"What about masturbation? You've surely had some pleasure in those years, correct?" She said her voice even despite the topic of the conversation.
"N-none." His voice shook for some reason that he didn't understand. "The last Dom, and only one I've been with, never revoked the order when he left."
They began to lead him down the steps and off the stage. The man returned back to the conversation after handing over his check to Klaus. Many people looked as they passed and a few even tried to trip Alaric up. But every time they did the man would bring the crop down, missing them by mere millimetres. How precise was he with that? It was almost as if he was born with a crop in his hand!
"You really are submissive, aren't you?" He said as he walked towards the door. Both of them paused and waited as Alaric hurried forward to hold open the large wooden doors. "You do realise that when a Dom leaves a sub, then all orders are revoked?" Yes, Alaric was right. The man did seem the kinder of the two.
"No, Sir. I just assumed they continued until I found someone else." The cool air from the opened door allowed him to clear his mind. He'd just been sold. He'd almost been sold to his ex-Dom… Jesus fucking Christ. And now he was with the most infamous of them all. How had this all happened? Why him? All he had been aware of was the woman's cry and then suddenly they were bidding on him. Had they been? A blush lit up his face as he thought of how he'd been chosen. Surely they wouldn't have done that in a public place?
There was a silence for a few moments. The pair talked between themselves, their voices far too low for Alaric to hear. Even if he could, he would be more respectful and try and focus his attention elsewhere.
While their backs were turned he took the chance to risk a glance up at the man. He'd seen the woman and to be honest she scared him as much as she was pretty. And she was pretty. Very pretty. But she was dangerous and that together… Alaric found himself beginning to harden just at the mere thought.
For the first time he allowed his eyes to rake over them. His broad shoulders were encased in a waistcoat, the same style as Klaus often wore. But his shirt was pristine white; such a contrasting colour of innocence compared to what he was known for. His trousers hung low on his hips and the grey belt reflected the low light of the shadowed moon. Good God, the things he'd probably done with that belt…
A small beep and a flicker of lights lit up the parking lot. Looking past the two Dominants, Alaric's jaw dropped when he saw the vehicle parked in front of them. In fact, it would be an insult to call it a vehicle. That would be putting it in the same class as the battered mini that he drove. No, this car was a monster. Sleek and beautiful, just like the woman. Powerful and domineering like the man.
A Lamborghini Estoque; black as midnight, sleek, dynamic, windows tinted darkly and standing proudly amongst the other lesser cars around it. As the door opened for him, Alaric climbed into the back seat. Almost immediately the leather surrounded him and comforted him. Leaning back in the seat he allowed himself the luxury of relaxation knowing this would be the first and only time he would be in such a car. Beneath him the car purred to life as the man gripped the wheel and eased out of the space as gracefully as if he were walking. No five point turns, cuss words or sudden brakes were needed. Effortlessly the car was free of the others.
Moments later, with a growl of an engine, they were heading away from the auction.
Under The Hammer
You watch Alaric's expression as he steps out of the car. For a moment he's dazed; with Damon's driving speed it was no wonder. He stumbles out of the car, gently shutting the door behind him as if the car would break with any more power. He casts a longing look over his shoulder before following you round the corner to the house.
That's if you can call it a house. Behind you, you can no longer hear Alaric's crunching footsteps on the gravel. Damon has walked ahead of you, and is opening the front door as you glance back over your shoulder. The boy is still stood there looking gormless and mimicking a fish out of water.
It's only now that you wish you had brought your own crop. The sound of it through the air would be enough to shock him out of his daze. Instead you turn your attention back to the object that has caught his attention.
Glass walls, some dimmed, rise from the ground supported only by black beams. Through the glass you can see Damon as he begins to strip from his formal attire. Branches from the approaching forest stroke the second floor windows. A small brook chases the left side of the house before disappearing back into the gloomy forest. Surely he's seen a house like this before?
"Alaric!" Your voice snaps him out of his reverie and he hurries forward. Pieces of grey gavel are kicked up in his hurry and you roll your eyes at the mess he makes. Already you're beginning to hate Damon. If it wasn't for his stupid little games you could have bought someone worthy of the money you'd paid.
"Sorry, Mistress. I'm not used to such…such grandness." Beneath his fringe you see his blue eyes eagerly follow the line of your stockings…
You turn around and begin your slow, graceful walk up to the house. "Do follow, we haven't got all night."
Under The Hammer
You follow Damon's lead down into the lower floor of the house. Your eyes trace over the planes of Damon's back. His tanned muscles move tantalisingly with every movement of his shoulders. Your lips ache to trace over the contours of his skin. He still has his trousers on and the black tie is wrapped around the knuckles of his right hand.
Behind you Alaric struggles to keep up with your brisk pace. His cheap dress shoes clatter horribly on the floor and you can't wait until you've bent him over and done all manner of things to him.
Damon pushes open a door at the bottom of the stairs. The automatic lights flicker on and dim immediately. Harsh lighting is awful on someone's skin tone. You hold the door open for Alaric and allow him to enter the room before you. As the door shuts, you slide the dead bolt into place. Why would you want him to escape early?
In the middle of the room is a large king size bed; used only for these occasions. Black silk lines the bed and large cushions are propped up against the headboard. Across from the wall is your favourite toy; the large wooden cross. The amount of times you've strung Damon up and whipped him is… You've lost count. The mahogany wood reflects the dull light and its polished surface offers no friction to the person tied there. It's the perfect instrument for pain and pleasure. Within minutes you can have them begging for release in both senses of the word. Along one wall is a selection of floggers, riding crops and whips. Each of them designed for a different purpose. In the corner the room is a wardrobe. In the drawers beneath it is a selection of vibrators, dildos (not that Damon ever has much of a need for them) and butt plugs.
The sound of a chair being dragged along the floor brings you from your thoughts. Damon is stood behind it, a length of rope in his hand. He silently holds one end out to you. After your grasp it, he looks back to Alaric. "Sit. And don't speak."
With little hesitancy Alaric moves over to the chair, his hands going behind it. Damon grips his slim wrists in one hand and begins to tie the tie tightly around them. With the last tug, Alaric grunts in pain as his arms a painfully pulled back. Next, Damon grabs a penknife from the draws. It's one of Damon's favourites to do to you. Blood play, one of the most trusting acts that a couple can do. At this you see fear beginning to cloud Alaric's eyes and his head shakes back and forth. Grabbing the front of Alaric's shirt, Damon slices down the front of it with a practiced ease. The fabric comes away like raven feathers. Unbuckling the man's belt, Damon does the same to Alaric's trousers and boxers.
The cool air causes Alaric's nipples to pebble and his eyes continue to look fearfully at the floor. Grasping the rope in your left hand, you loop it through the bonds of the tie. Pulling it forward you trail it around his arms, pulling on it to make sure it tightly binds him. Damon follows your actions with a slight smirk. You pull the rope over Alaric's shoulder and down his chest, criss-crossing it with Damon's piece. Then you begin to secure Alaric's legs to the chair. You make sure the rope digs into his flesh – you want to be able to see the marks later. When you reach Alaric's ankles you tie the rope tightly to secure him.
You catch Damon's eyes and you both look up at your bound captive. His breathing is hitched and his cock stands half erect. He couldn't have lied even if he'd wanted to. His sensitive skin hadn't been touched in years; you wouldn't be surprised if it was longer than five years. As you stand you make sure to let your cool breath ghost over the tip of his cock. He shudders at the feeling and bites his lip to stop his moans.
"Keep your eyes open. We want you to witness everything we're going to do. But don't say a word. Say 'yes, Mistress' if you understand!"
"Yes, Mistress." His voice is steady and he dares to look at you. But this time you don't mind. Turning your heel on him, you gather Damon's hand in yours. You both walk the small distance to the bed. With every step you make sure your skirt flashes your buttocks and the stop of your suspenders. Behind you, you hear his breathing hitch.
Before you reach the bed, your hands stray to Damon's belt buckle. With a flick of your wrist the leather strap is free. Pulling it from its belt hoops, you allow it to coil back on the floor like a snake. He chuckles at your eagerness but still helps you in taking off your own clothing. Moments later your skirt is on the floor and Damon's thumbs are hooked under the waist band of your panties. Slowly he drags the fabric down each of your legs, allowing it to graze your sensitive skin. As he moves onto the other leg, he gently kisses every inch of skin that is revealed to him. Stepping back, do the same to him.
When you're both naked you push him down onto the bed and he smirks at your domineering side. "Aren't you a demanding little thing?" he taunts as he pulls you up onto his body. He captures you lips in a brutal kiss. But you don't yield. Neither of you nor him yield but you continue to grope along the broad planes of his shoulders for purchase on his skin. If your nails hurt him, he doesn't say anything, only moans further into your mouth.
You grind your hips down on his erection and grin as he gasps out. Even after all these years your still affect him. Only the moans from the other side of the room remind you of your captive. With a feral grin on your face, you lean down to whisper your thoughts to Damon.
"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters in his rich accent, the words rolling from his tongue. "But I love it." He helps your manoeuvre on top of him until your pussy is resting just above his lips. In front you Damon's cock glistens with the beginning of pre-cum.
Across the room Alaric's eyes widen as they lock with yours. His blue eyes widen a fraction and his breathing stutters. Easing your hips down, you moan lowly as Damon's tongue begins to tease you. Looking at the cock in front of you, you easily wrap your lips around its tip. All of the time you maintain eye contact with Alaric.
You flick your tongue over the tip, revelling in the salty taste. Beneath you a shudder racks through Damon's body as he continues to assault your pussy. Hollowing your cheeks, you take in more of his cock, pulling back when he attempts to thrust into your mouth. Again his tongue toys with your pussy and his teeth graze the top of your clit.
At his actions you begin to feel the first waves of pleasure descend upon you. Your tongue continues its dance over Damon's length causing moans to emanate from beneath you. You watch as a blush crosses over Alaric's face, the dim light of the room doing nothing to hide it. Damon was right; voyeurism is interesting. A few more seconds pass until the blonde's cock juts out from his body, evidence of his desire at your display.
Rough hands grip your hips and press you down onto Damon's face. The light stubble on his chin teases your thighs and only adds to the heightened sensations. At the same time your hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along the underside of his cock. Both of you are moaning at the others actions and you know it won't be long until you both come.
The heat in your hips is almost unbearable and you find yourself grinding down on Damon's tongue as it delves expertly into your pussy. Taking his cock further into your mouth, you swallow around him. It's had the desired effect because he lets out a strangled moan and temporarily stops his assault.
Alaric's eyes are now clouded with nothing but desire and lust. You see his biceps flexing with the need to touch himself. But you know the ropes will hold tight.
Despite the brief pause, it does nothing to dim the fire that has flared amongst your nerves. Damon's teeth nibble on your clit. His tongue massages it and once again delves into your pussy.
In your mouth you know Damon's close but he pushes you off just when you expect him to come. Turning to him, you catch the wicked gleam in his eyes. "Let me make you come. But I want you to spank him as I come down his throat. I want you to make him cry out as my cock bruises his mouth, please." Damon adds and shocks you with his pleading. Damon doesn't beg. Even when you're torturing him you've yet to hear him beg. Nodding, you allow him to continue his movements.
Two fingers slip into your soaking sex and the fires rekindle once more. Your nerves are heightened and you ride on his fingers. His mouth takes one of your nipples into his mouth and he gently grazes it with his teeth. You arch up into his touch and smirks up at you. Good fucking God! With the last flick to your clit, your muscles are clenching around his finger, greedily seeking more throughout your orgasm. You shut your eyes as you move against him instinctively. Your body jerks and your hips snap up to meet his fingers. Only his light chuckle disturbs your ecstasy.
You lie there for a moment to catch your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your breasts pushing forward. Your nipples strain forward and you raise a hand to cup your breast. Nimble fingers ghost over the surface and you shut your eyes in bliss. Despite your orgasm you can still feel the fires raging in your nerves.
Turning your head you look to where Damon is untying Alaric's bonds. The blonde tries to touch himself but Damon quickly swats his hand away. A glare is all that's needed. Your eyes trace over Alaric's body and you're pleased to see that the ropes left their biting mark. Hot red lines wrap around his body, begging for you to trace your tongue over them.
Damon pushes him on the small of his back and he stumbles over to the bed. "Stop there, and don't turn around. In fact, don't even look at her." Damon orders as he lays back on the bed, his legs apart.
"because I'm going to choose something, something that could cause you pain or pleasure – perhaps both if I'm feeling generous." Your voice is cold and callous, giving nothing away as you move off the bed. Your legs feel like jelly but you don't let them show in your stride. Your hand trails over the instruments attached to the wall. It doesn't take you long to pick out what you want; a riding crop, the twin to Damon's. Where his is black, yours is red with black lettering. You give a quick test swish through the air and you see Alaric drop to his knees expectantly.
Interesting. His last Dom must have trained him well for that reaction. "Stand but bend over. I want you to take your master's cock into your mouth." Seconds later and Alaric is bent over, his pale buttocks on show for you. Over his body you can see Damon's expression change to pure bliss.
Walking back over to them, you raise the crop slightly before allowing it to connect to Alaric's bare skin. Alaric whimpers slightly but remains standing. Damon's hands have come to rest in his hair and his fingers flex and relax in amongst the blonde waves. As Damon forces his head up and down you hear Alaric gag slightly and his cheeks go red with the effort to supress the urge.
Just to shock him, you let the crop meet his skin once more. Smack! He whimpers again around Damon's cock and you see Damon's eyes roll back into his head. Again and again your crop meets his bare skin.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
You decide to give Alaric a brief respite from the vicious bite of the crop. Instead you trail it up Damon's calf and the muscles quiver under its touch. Meeting his eyes, you let the crop bite his skin. Damon tenses beneath it and send you a glare over Alaric's shoulder before the pleasure sweeps him back into ecstasy.
Again you move onto Alaric. With every swipe of the crop his body moves forward and he chokes on Damon's cock. You see a slight gathering of saliva or pre-cum (you're not quite sure which) in the corners of his mouth. His eyes are wide and continually meeting Damon's eyes. Pale hands grip the dark covers as he braces himself for your impact.
With one last swipe of the crop, you cause Alaric to swallow around Damon. You watch as lust covers Damon's face and his head pushes back into the dark covers. Damon's hands grip the strands of blonde hair, forcing Alaric to swallow every little bit of Damon's essence.
With a push of his hand, Damon forces Alaric away from him. Stepping away from the blonde, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. Your tongues battle for dominance, neither of them giving in or backing down. Out of your eye corner you see Alaric watching every little intimate detail. Still his cock is hard despite your treatment to him. His buttocks are red and shining with marks from your crop. Good; he'll still be able to feel them in the morning.
"We're not done yet," Damon's voice is gruff and thick with his lust. "You're going to fuck her while I fuck you. We're going to leave you raw. You'll never walk the same after tonight."
At his words you see Alaric gulp slightly but he nods his head. "Yes, Sir. Where do you want me?"
At Damon's nod, you lay back down on the bed and allow Alaric to cover your body. His chest brushes against your breasts and you arch into his touch. Just as he raises his hands to touch your breasts, you spit out at him. "A submissive does not touch its Dominant without permission! Did I say you could use your hands? Did I say you could use anything other than your cock?"
Alaric shakes his head violently and drops his hands and his eyes. "No, Mistress." Instead his hands stay at either side of your body to balance himself. Your own hand trails down your body to spread the wet folds of your labia. Alaric's gaze follows yours and his breath catches in his throat. Your sex is glistening in the dim light and Alaric's eyes darken expectantly.
"Now do as I say," Damon demands. Your eyes watch him as he reaches for two condoms and lube. "Use this. The only child she'll ever carry will be mine." He hands over the condom and Alaric fumbles with the packet. A few painstakingly long moments pass before he's rolled the condom on. "Now push into her. Roughly, she likes it rough."
Alaric does as Damon tells him and with one thrust he sheaths himself in your heat. You gasp as he fills you. He's thinner than Damon but slightly longer. Surprisingly, he finds your sweet spot with his first thrust. He begins to move inside you, slowly as fist but his thrusts soon pick up the pace.
Behind him, Damon squirts lube onto his on fingers. You see the shock register on Alaric's face as Damon begins to rim him. You can't see Damon tease him but you know when he pushes one oiled finger into him. Alaric's jaw drops open in pleasure and he screws is eyes shut. Stupidly he stops all movement in you.
Raising one of your hands, you slap his already rosy buttocks. With a start his eyes open. As if under a spell, his hips begin to snap against your own. His cock slides in and out of you, your body moving up and down the sheets with the force. Moments pass before you see Damon looming over Alaric's back.
You see Alaric's Adam apple bob slightly as Damon enters him. As Damon begins to move you feel his force passed down into Alaric's. More and more the force of Alaric's thrusts cause pleasure to bloom over you. Looking into his down cast eyes, you watch as they widen and his mouth open in pleasure. Moans and whimpers leave his parted lips as Damon continues his brutal thrusts. Both bodies – pale and tanned – work together above you, the sight alone is enough to bring you near the brink.
Alaric continues to thrust forward in time with Damon, his body being pushed forward and down into your own. Blonde hair flips around his eyes as Damon drives into him. Again and again he brushes your sweet spot and you know Damon's doing the same thing to Alaric.
Arching up into his thrusts, you allow your hand to stray back down to where your bodies join. Your fingers tease either side of your clit, pressing down and flicking it in time with Alaric's thrusts. Heat continues to build in your hips as you meet them thrust for thrust.
Alaric is the first to climax with his head is thrown back as Damon continues to thrust into his used body. His eyes are scrunched up and stills within your body. Despite that, you continue to play with yourself, chasing your orgasm before being pushed over the brink. Arching up, you rock against his still body, your contractions milking the last of his orgasm. Finally Damon orgasms and as you've grown to expect, his hips move erratically and don't still. The slapping sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the large room before he sags against Alaric's back.
A few seconds pass before he pulls out of Alaric, allowing the blonde to pull out of you. Alaric immediately moves off the bed and kneels at the side. He winces slightly as he does.
Damon's hand brushes over your stomach as his legs intertwine with yours. His voice is low as he speaks to you; "do you think we should let him stay? I heard he's living with Mikaelson and has nowhere else."
A shocked expression flowers on your face as you look back at him. Had Damon suddenly turned soft? But the quiet whimpering sounds coming from the blonde in front of you is enough to change your mind. Tapping his shoulder (and allowing the Dominant façade to drop) you invite Alaric to lay beside you.
The shock is the same on his face as it was on yours. At first shakes his head and stays where you are. Damon's words are the only things to stop his reluctance.
"Would you disobey an order from your Mistress?"
Hey! Just something a bit different! Hope you enjoy it! Please tell me what you think! Thanks :D xx