Preface

2020 Kinktober Fest: Drabbles/Ficlets/Headcanons
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26738251.

Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories:
F/M, Multi, Other, M/M
Fandom:
The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Relationships:
Muriel/Nadia (The Arcana), Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Devil Muriel/Apprentice, Julian Devorak/Muriel, Asra/Julian Devorak, Devil Apprentice / Muriel
Characters:
Muriel (The Arcana), Nadia (The Arcana), Devil Muriel, Julian Devorak, Asra (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana), The Scourge of the South (The Arcana), Original Female Character(s), Portia Devorak
Additional Tags:
Kinktober 2020, Drabble, Ficlet, headcanons, Pegging, Dom/sub, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, basically everything, Hands Free Orgasm, mild exhibitionism, Reversed End, Bad Ending, Mind Control, Corruption, Somnophilia, Grinding, Cuddling, extended session, magic sex compulsion, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Breathplay, Platonic Sex, Sex for Favors, Begging, Loud Sex, Humiliation, Biting, Creampie, Gags, Public Blow Jobs, Swallowing, Cockwarming, Objectification, Bondage, Brainwashing, Possessive Tendencies, general violence, inappropriate use of magic, Slapping, Impact Play, Name-Calling, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Masturbation, Masochism, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Face-Fucking, Oral Sex, Yandere, Modern AU, Sensory Deprivation, Blindfolds, Nipple Play, Suffering, Desperation
Language:
English
Stats:
Published: 2020-09-30 Completed: 2020-10-30 Words: 40,070 Chapters: 32/32

2020 Kinktober Fest: Drabbles/Ficlets/Headcanons

Summary

Dump for Kinktober 2020 works. Individual chapters will be tagged with characters and kinks but a general warning of this is very much 18+.

Pegging: Nadia x Muriel

Day 1 - Pegging

Nadia x Muriel, platonic pegging, light dom&sub

 

“I really am quite glad that you worked up the nerve for a demonstration, Muriel.  It's much easier than trying to explain all the minutiae.  With what she sounds like she’s after, you’re best off going for more of a feeling than trying to build something overly complicated with needless props or embellishment.”  

Through a series of extremely embarrassing conversations, Muriel was in the middle of a lesson about more… advanced bedroom techniques after months of banked favors, cajoling, and begging from the Apprentice.  He was boiling red all the way down his chest but (once Nadia had been informed of the situation) both the Countess and the Apprentice had managed to convince him to take the chance to… broaden his horizons.  He’d had reservations and some second thoughts, but it was far, far too late for that.  Nadia was already lining up behind him, the crystal strap on dripping some kind of floral oil.  It was cool and smooth and slid against his shivery flesh easily, putting pressure on him without penetrating just yet.  He was undeniably receptive however, thanks to a good long while of Nadia’s patient preparation and the rather flattering surprise of finding a quantity of black mead brought up for him to enjoy while she had a glass of wine before all of this had really gone down.

Her hand was back in his hair, tugging slightly and with the slightest bite of manicured nails in his scalp.  “Are you ready for me, Muriel?” she asked, her voice deliberately casual as her other hand wended gently around his hip, gripping the ridge of bone there for a second before traveling higher up his ribs.

He grunted something in response but couldn’t make it salient.  She tutted and dragged her nails sharply over a nipple.  Muriel jumped and grunted slightly but the force was only enough to leave faint red weals.

“A question gets an answer,” she chided, though she sounded delighted.  

He grunted again and managed a faint “yes” and she hummed in satisfaction.  Her grip in his hair tightened fractionally and she pushed gently, wordlessly encouraging him to put his face to the couch cushions.  “No doubt having them totally naked underneath you will have them feeling self conscious,” she explained patiently.  “There’s a balance you’ll want to try and keep.  A little will keep them flushed and eager, too much and you’ll slow everything down.  Unless they have a specific weakness for that but I think being intentionally cruel is out of your wheelhouse, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Muriel obliged, lowering his chest and skull to the couch and bracing his hands.  “I don’t,” he responded reluctantly.  He was here to cater to the Apprentice, after all.  He wasn’t… entirely inexperienced but he had a 10 long years of isolation and a traumatic past to work through, any assistance he could get really was a boon, if he could just overcome how absolutely mortifying he found this entire concept.

She nodded, carefully brushing a languid curl of soft hair back over her shoulder.  “Another thing to note.  Compliments.  Get a list ready because you’ll need to shower them with compliments,”  She spread more oil between his tight thighs and he grunted but she continued talking as though simply discussing a casual outing.  “You absolutely must be specific.  Generic flattery won’t get you anywhere.  But if you take the time to really hone in on what you find attractive about them, you’ll have them singing for it in no time.”

She suddenly leaned over him, bracing one elegant hand next to his face while the other was still curled in his hair- the strap on pushed against him harder and he felt something in his chest fluttering madly.  

“And a personal rule of mine: never get loud,” she said next to his ear, dropping her voice and even Muriel had a difficult time not reacting to the sultriness of it as his cock twitched between his legs, growing thicker by the second.  “Make them listen to you.  They deserve to hear every single thing you’re going to say to them so make sure they’re giving you all of their attention.”

He let out a slow exhale through his nose and then she was running her hand through his hair again, combing through it and scratching lightly at his scalp and his skin prickled at the sensation.  “Muriel, you really have the most beautiful hair.  You know, when you had that little ribbon tied into it, I had the most difficult time keeping my imagination under control,” she said.  Really, the casual tone to her voice was throwing Muriel off the most- the pressure increased against him and he choked slightly while the Countess tugged on his hair- not cruelly, but hard enough to pull his skull just to the point of encroaching on pain.  

She adjusted her position easily.  “Here’s another good tip, Muriel, keep them talking and make sure they’re responding to you.  Eventually it will all be gibberish but it's quite fun to see how long it takes before they’re babbling insensibly or begging for something or other.”  Then she leaned down again and put her lips right next to his ear.  “Then... do you want to know what I was imagining, Muriel?”

He struggled to open his mouth, still incredibly mortified but then Nadia canted her hips in just the right fashion to send the smooth head of the strap on just barely into him and he gasped the word “yes” out before he could rationalize it, his fists clenching as he remained in the position she had asked of him.

“Remember to praise them as much as possible, as well,” she mentioned casually before patting Muriel’s tan flank affectionately and tightening the hand in his thick hair.  “Such a good boy.  You’re a very fast learner, Muriel.”

She pushed harder and breached him by degrees.  The oil kept it from dragging or catching and he was prepared enough to take it but the fit was tight and he was unused to this.  He bit his lip, staring at the far wall and she crooned lowly under her breath.

“I was imagining what would happen if I took that little ribbon out of your hair and tied it nice and tight around the base of your cock-” she groped him tightly on the last word and Muriel jerked, throbbing in her soft hand and burying his face in the cushions. “Not tight enough to hurt, of course not,” she went on while that crooning note to her voice intensified.  “Just tight enough.  Just enough to help you pace yourself for me.”

She squeezed him tightly, moving her hand slow and almost languidly but it caused sensation intense enough to distract from how she was pushing deeper into him with the strap.  “But you’re so obedient, Muriel.  You wouldn’t dare come before I was done with you, I think.  You’re far too polite for that.”

She lightly tracked her nails along his thick shaft and his whole body erupted into shivers he couldn’t control and he was silently grateful she hadn’t asked him to talk in a while.  But he did realize suddenly that she was fully seated and he had taken the whole length… He felt incredibly full and he shifted experimentally, making to lift his head up until he was gently pushed back down again by Nadia’s gentle hand.

She spent a leisurely minute or so running her hand down the side of his twitching thighs, dragging fingertips over his hip, over his ribs.  She toyed idly with a nipple and let out a melodic little laugh at his stressed vocalization.  “You’re really doing a fantastic job,” she complimented, her voice earnest.  “I can tell how hard you’re working and I know that it must have been very difficult for you to ask for help.  I think your magician friend will be very excited to see what you’ve picked up.”

Muriel’s flush intensified and his cock pulsed heavily at the compliments.  He shivered and Nadia suddenly began to move, drawing back slowly and shallowly and keeping the pace easy.  Her manicured hand, replete with a series of noisy gold bangles, found his dick again and she gave him a rough squeeze that made him ache.  His hips jerked forward and back again before he could stop himself and the Countess made a delighted noise.

“Ah, now here is a prime opportunity.  You’ll make all sorts of interesting little discoveries like this.  Make sure that if they show you something interesting you do your due diligence in exploring it.  Just like you’re showing me now.”  She tugged on his hair, wordlessly encouraging him to raise himself on his hands and knees.  “Perfect, thank you.”  Finally, she released her fist to pet him gently, pushing his thick, black hair out of his face as she began to pick up the pace and fall into an easy rhythm pumping in to him.  “So for instance, when I discover that gentle touches and words of praise make every single muscle in your very handsome back coil up-” she dragged a nail over his shoulder blade “I know my next course of action is to explore that.”

She started fucking him harder, still stroking his hair and dragging her other hand all over him.  Muriel’s breaths were ragged and loud and the flush on his face was beginning to look less humiliated and more… distracted.  Dazed.  “Muriel, dear, stop choking down all those delightful noises.  If I didn’t want to hear you I have a closet full of gags we could have played with,” she reminded him casually.

He couldn’t seem to let go of the instinct to try and be quiet, though, and he shuddered as her hand scratched along his carved stomach toward where his cock was pointing stiffly, dripping precome and twitching eagerly.  When she stopped short before grabbing it, he let out a hoarse breath and a noise that was a little strangled, hanging his head for a second as he tried to get a hold of himself.

“Very good,” she said, now petting his stomach and deliberately ignoring his cock.  “You magician is very lucky; you’re so much fun in bed.  And incredibly beautiful, if you’d care to hear my opinion.”

He whined and jerked his hips, simultaneously trying to maintain her pace and also get her hand on his cock but all he got was a teasing pinch and a light slap to his ass.  “If you want more, you’ll need to move your hips.  I’d very much like to see you come without more… direct stimulation.  Can you do that?”

For a second, he just shuddered directionless but then the strap drove deeply into him and he let out a choked moan and couldn’t resist any longer.  He began to move back against it, shifting to take his own pleasure as Nadia’s steady pace slowly took him apart.  Nails raked over a nipple again and Nadia’s very-pleased-sounding “Questions and answers really shouldn’t be so hard” echoed in his empty head.

He nodded, unable to form the affirmation, flushed red but also hungry for his end- which was swiftly mounting as the crystal dildo continuously rubbed him in exactly the right spot to make his vision dim and his nerves light.

“Oh, poor thing,” she chuckled, although there was finally a note of breathlessness to her voice that made his skin prickle reactively.  “Is it so much you can’t speak?”  She tutted somewhat theatrically.  “Move against me harder then, since you can’t use your mouth.”

He jumped at that particular order, rocking backwards roughly and tossing his head slightly.  He was close- somehow- so, so close and he couldn’t pace himself anymore, not with the curved, carved strap making him see stars every time it hit his prostate and not with her wandering hands sliding everywhere except over his heavy cock.  But it only made his body throb worse and by the time he was coming all over the Countess’ silk poufs, she had stopped moving entirely to watch him finish, her lips quirked into a slight smirk even as they were slightly parted with her heavier breath.

Dirty Talk: Apprentice x Muriel

Day 2 - Dirty Talk

1st Person POV, AFAB Apprentice, dirty talk, mild public sex kink

 

“What are you so embarrassed about?” I asked, leaning in closer to Muriel as he sits in the too-small booth bench, doing everything he can to concentrate on his drink.  The rest of the Rowdy Raven was, predictably, quite rowdy and no one paid us much mind.

It's rare to get him out like this but Asra’s good at cajoling him.  But, seated next to him, he’s sort of pinned in next to the wall at the very end of the long table and I’m pretty sure its the only reason he didn’t bolt when both Julian and Portia showed up around nine for drinks and, upon discovering me, Asra, and Muriel already here, decided to join us.  In all it was quite noisy and high-spirited, though Muriel’s coping reasonably well all things considered.  I blame my four-ish ales on my lack of inhibitions tonight, though, and the second attention was even remotely turned elsewhere, I start with the teasing.

“If I sit on your lap here do you think anyone would notice if I rubbed myself against you til I came?” I asked, fighting down the slur in my voice, looking up at his semi-placid face with a drunk smile.  When the words hit he actually choked so hard on the mead he was drinking that a fair quantity spilled down his front.  He couldn’t even retort, he just stared down at me horrified and I innocently placed my hand on the meat of his thigh but didn’t do anything untoward with it.

“I won’t make it all the way until we get back to the hut,” I continue, leaning in so he can hear me but I’m not lowering my voice at all.  To the rest of the bar it simply looks like an semi-intimate conversation and no one’s paying us any attention.  “I keep thinking about how much I love it when you pull me into your lap and-”

“Q-quiet!” he snapped, his face going crimson and his eyes averting. 

“Every time I think about riding you until you burst, my legs get all weak.”  Of course I keep going now that such an interesting challenge has presented itself.  Muriel can’t even form coherent words to that and simply bends his head awkwardly, trying to cover his face with one hand in a way that didn’t attract Asra’s incredibly sensitive perception.  Thankfully the magician was still chatting animatedly with Julian for the moment.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I continue, squeezing his thigh and smirking stupidly.  “You’re such a good boy.”  I put an intense amount of stress on the last part, leaning hard into him and squeezing his thigh so tightly my hand shakes a little.  I know Muriel can’t handle compliments and this transfers to the bedroom as well.  “You’re so good that I bet if I look you’re already hard a fucking rock.”

He swallows thickly and his breath is getting harder by the second, refusing to meet my bleary stare even though I have a death grip on his tense thigh.  It's like he’s afraid I’m gonna check or something.  Unable to resist the challenge in that (of course) I slide my hand just a little closer to watch him tense.  

“You’re so good,” I say, dropping my voice as Portia walks by, dropping off another drink for me and I thank her earnestly at a normal volume before leaning back into Muriel when she leaves.  “You’re so good that if you were up for it, we could go around the corner into that quiet little courtyard  and I’d suck you off while you try not to make too much noise.  But I know you’re too shy for that.”

His whole body ripples with a stressed tense and his hands grip his tankard so hard I’m momentarily fascinated with whether it can withstand the pressure for much longer.  “It's a shame, though,” I continue, delighted.  “You’re so cute when you’re about to come, did you know?  You get all red and your breathing gets really ragged.  You don’t really moan but every time your dick twitches you make this little… growling noise.”  

It's not beyond my notice that his breathing is going a little labored right now and that a muscle is working in his jaw.  He looks as though he thinks if he stays perfectly still I’ll lose interest.  Fat chance.  “I work extra hard for that noise,” I quip.  “So hard that when we get home tonight you’re going to find me all ready for every last inch of your cock.”  His body is stiff as a board and his eyes are scanning the exits (including windows) frantically but his breathing is undeniably heavy and I feel like I should keep pushing my luck as the sounds of the bar fade to a drone around me. Muriel looks like he’s fighting hard to stay composed and I notice Asra give him a concerned side-eye surreptitiously from the other end of the table.

“Right when you lose it, your breath cuts out all together and you coil up like a spring,” I wheedle, gripping his thigh possessively now with both hands, “and then you tip your head back...”

“Don’t,” he ground out from behind his clenched jaw warningly.  

“Gets me so hot-”

Don’t-” he tries again, but it's distinctly more breathy and distinctly more pleading.

“And then your mouth drops open and you move any way you can to make sure you squeeze all of your dick into me.  And that thing you do where you bite your lip and kind of glaze over?”  I really dig my nails into him and he opens his mouth to tell me to go away again but he freezes and I can feel his whole body shudder.  “Fuck, maybe I could come just from this.  From making sure you know just how appealing you can be.”  I squirm, then drop my voice again- Asra’s walking over and I know I need to be just a little subtle.  “But I think I’ll try and save it for when we get back to the hut, and you fuck me exactly how you wish you were fucking me right now.”  I slide my hand deeper between his legs and I feel him jerk-

“Muriel, you feeling okay?”

We both jump, Muriel’s breath cuts out, and he opens his mouth for a flustered response… but there’s nothing, just a helpless, frozen look as he stares stupidly up at Asra and comes in his pants at the same time.  I pull up a little- red as hell from how unbelievably hot that is, but merciful enough to deflect scrutiny.  This time.  “He was saying that the noise was giving him a headache.  We might start heading back soon.”

Asra cast him a sympathetic smile.  “Of course, I’m happy you came.”

The smile falls from my face abruptly and I have to struggle to rearrange it.  There was no way Asra could tell, I tried to assure myself, but I felt distinctly uneasy at his enigmatic smirk while Muriel burned absolutely crimson next to me, refusing to look at either of us.

Mind Control: Devil Muriel x Apprentice

Day 3 - Mind Control

1st person POV, AFAB Apprentice, Devil Muriel, Reversed Relationship, Corruption

 

While I’ve lost track of time in the Devil’s realm, it hasn’t been that long (I think).  Not long enough for me to get used to how Muriel looks now, not long enough to keep me from recoiling from him a little.  He oscillates between the Muriel I know and some other version- it's still him, but it's more intense, hungrier, maybe a little angrier.  

The shiny obsidian horns are off-putting, sure, but actually I’m most unnerved by his eyes.  They burn like embers but they’re colder than ice.  His smile’s just as much a weapon  as his claws, too, all pointed fangs and blade-sharp smirks.  A thick metal collar covers most of his neck, its leather fixture dips nearly to his bare clavicle.  I think maybe of everything, I hate that the most.  That even with the knowledge he outsmarted and killed a Major Acrana with a dangerous agenda and possible saved the rest of the magic and mortal worlds, that even with all the power that left him with, bondage and subjugation (even the sardonic representation I think this is) are still a core part of how he views himself.  I hate it.

“You think so loudly,” Muriel growls softly from the blackstone throne.  He’s sitting in it sideways, one of his muscular legs draped over the curved armrest while his shoulders slouch down the corner.  Beside the throne, I stand fidgeting.  He enjoys the game of giving me meaningless commands, riding the line between requesting and telling, as though simply testing my boundaries and pushing my buttons.  It's obnoxious but I’m starting to think he does it just to get a reaction out of me… and once again I’m reminded of a huge, patient cat slowly stalking circles around something small and helpless.

The bargain terms he leveraged to get us here are absolute- I’m beholden to him and he’s stuck here, to put it simply.  Though we haven’t been here long enough to figure out what exactly that all means.  All I know is that it's- as far as I can tell- impossible to directly defy him and that he’s not going to let me out of his sight any time soon to fully test this theory.

I can sense him looking me over but I don’t need a direct connection into his brain to feel the hunger radiating off him.  “You know,” he says lowly, shifting so that he’s sitting upright proper, his heavy, muscular body moving easily as he rights himself.  One of his hands runs over the metallic surface of the collar to the link that holds the lead and it jingles coldly...  “These are here because of you,” he leers, looking me over slowly.  He holds up the heavy chain attached to his neck and shakes it at me a little tauntingly.  It looks impossibly heavy and it's been attached to him since we got here, since he transformed into… whatever he is now.  The chain is thick and it rattles when he moves but there’s a dull sheen to it- and the collar and the heavy, huge manacles around his wrists- that looks like something precious.  A decorative alloy for something meant for form just as much as function- nothing at all like the old iron fetters that broke off him in the tundra.

He finally stands and towers over me, still holding out the end of his leash.  “You’re really going to tell me you don’t want this?”

“Of course I don’t,” I bite back viciously.

He tips his head and his lips quirk just slightly.  “Don’t lie.  You went through hell to stop Lucio and this-” he gestures around himself, his smirk growing “is your prize.”  

I want to argue but I suddenly can’t, it's like the breath just vanishes from my lungs and I flounder stupidly up at him, realizing that he is somehow responsible…  Whatever powers he has now though completely outstrip mine and I can’t fight it off.   “You wanted me to fight, so I did,” he growls, bending in to get closer while I’m frozen like a scared rabbit.  “You wanted to keep me safe, you wanted to kill Lucio.  I gave you everything you wanted.  Now you don’t want this?”

I groan in frustration.  We’ve had this conversation verbatim so many times…  

“It’s okay,” he growls in a poor attempt to soothe that comes off transparently sadistic.  “Your heart was in the right place.  But sometimes when you try to rehabilitate a monster you just end up with a monster after all your hard work.”

“You’re not a-”

He grabs my chin- not violently- but his grip is firm and tight and entitled even if his claws angle away from vulnerable flesh slightly.  “I am ,” he snarls softly, baring his teeth, but he looks entertained, delighted even.  “And I don’t care anymore.”

He turns me around and pulls me back against his heavy body, absolutely unmoving under my off-balanced weight.  I can feel the chain pressing up against my shoulder blade somewhat painfully but I don’t really have time to react before he slides his hand beneath my jaw, tipping my skull up to look at him and I can’t help but grimace rebelliously.  He seems to enjoy the challenge in that though as his other hand wends around my side and slides down my belly with an excruciating slowness that makes my body heat quickly.  I can feel embarrassment beginning to prickle at my face and he must be able to see it because his body rumbles with a dark, quiet chuckle.  “You do like it,” he says smugly, and his fingers follow the curve of my body and between my legs.  He doesn’t move clothing out of the way, he doesn’t even search for my clit, he just presses hard and my legs quake.  

He’s still got his other hand curled around the underside of my jaw from behind and I can feel the pressure increase as my legs tremble weakly.  His fingers twitch just a little tighter and he looks down at me from his significantly superior height, over his broad chest and into my watering eyes.  “You’re mine,” he breathes, the sharp edge of his smirk reveals a brutally pointed canine before he lets go and then two hands are busy dragging between my legs and heating my flesh with friction.

Dumbly, I reach for an anchor- for anything to brace myself for the onslaught he’s about to bring- and the only thing I can solidly get a hold of is the heavy black fur cape that spills over his back and all the way down to the floor.  He seems entertained by this and he shifts his grip, his left hand sliding up, calloused fingers catching on my clothing, until he uses the pads of his fingers to rub gently over a nipple.

My breath cuts out and I shudder, tipping forward slightly as he continues to toy with it for several excruciating seconds over the fabric of my clothes.  When he can pinch it, he does, and gives it a tug that has me gasping loudly in the empty chamber.  I can barely stand and heat’s dropping in my guts, and no matter the context, I’m absolutely throbbing for him.  So much so that when he neglects to stop pinching my nipple even as he slowly takes a step back towards the throne, my body’s shaking so much I can’t even make a coherent protest.  

He’s watching me like a fucking hawk, his mouth a smug little line as he leads me closer.  But then his impatience wins out over his careful restraint and he presses himself up against my back so hard I have to brace a knee on the seat and grab both heavy armrests.  I feel his mouth and nose trail against the sensitive skin behind my ear until he finds a suitable place and bites down, hard and I ripple in a mix of mild pain and delirious arousal.  One tightly muscled arm snakes under my abdomen and he angles me up, grinding in to me from behind.

Of course he’s already rock hard, he’s developed an advanced taste for toying with me and it usually turns into this with relatively little provocation.  I can’t deny that I’m dying for him though, my thighs are already soaked and the insistent pulsing in me is just about unbearable.  “I know you’re an idealist,” he murmurs against the side of my neck.  “I know that maybe this isn’t what you planned.  But it's not so bad.”  I can really only whimper at that.

He adjusts his hips and grinds again, rubbing his cock against my still-clothed, still boiling hot body in one long, slow line.  He bites me again and this time a heady, hungry growl rips up his chest and vibrates against me, signalling his impatience to get started.  When he speaks next his voice has changed- its thick with arousal and rough with the possessive tendencies he’s developed.  My heart clenches but my thighs continue to spasm and I can’t seem to muster the will to get away.  His teeth find another place on my neck and bite down, holding me still and fumbling one-handedly with clothing.  “Answer me,” he practically whispers, face pressed against my throat, where I’m sure he can feel my pulse drumming madly away.  “It’s really not so bad, is it?”

I can’t bring myself to say it yet and he shifts quickly to tear fabric out of his way and seize my hips so strongly I can’t help the shocked moan and the way they angle up towards him automatically.  He doesn’t press for an answer, just gives my ass a light pat and laughs lowly.  “Always so easy to read.”

I want to say that his fucks are fast and brutal… and sometimes they are.  But more than anything he seems to love starting slow.  He angles me to a more submissive position that he seems to favor more, clawed, heavy hands gentle but inescapable on the back of my skull as he pushes me down over the throne.  I can’t help it and my shaking legs force my hips at an even tenser angle.  

His cock is massive and it seems as though it’s always ready to be driven into me and Muriel’s hunger in this form is an insatiable thirst that he has no interest in trying to control.  When he slots up against me he’s hard and bulging and twitching with heat and I still can’t really understand how he wants me as much as he does.  (So much.  Enough to growl and pace furiously at the thought of our old friends trying to open communication lines with us).  

“Listen,” Muriel says in a low growl, bending close to my ear.  I didn’t know he was that close and I start slightly in his gentle but possessive grip.  “There’s really only one thing you should be thinking about now, okay?”  He presses tight and I gasp, the pulsing head of his cock taut with hunger and I know the rest of him is just as impatient for me.  I shudder, I can’t help it, and he strokes down my spine tenderly.  “That’s right,” he growls out in praise.  It's quiet, just a bass-y rumble near my ear but everything in me twitches excitedly for more of him- for his enormous, hot cock and his condescending possessive praise that makes my brain short circuit.

For how eager he was to get his dick in me, he’s really taking his time now and leaning into all the methodical patience being fully immortal grants him.  It's really just bullshit at this point.  He’s about a third of the way in and I’m so hot and so wet that every twitch sends a shockwave through my body.  My nipples are so hard they hurt and my hands are white-knuckling the throne’s armrests.  I’m not sure if he’s actively reading my mind (I’m ashamed to say I still haven’t quite figured out how everything works with him lording over the whole of the Devil’s Realm.  Every time I get close to confirming another fact that might help me do something about all of this he does his best to be as distracting as possible).  He rubs the flat of his palm over one of my nipples roughly, cupping and then squeezing the meat of my breast hard enough to pull a gasp from me.  At the same time he cants his hips and his cock slides a little further, stretching me to the point of pain but I’m so deliriously horny it only awakens the grovelling masochist in me and I feel even hotter.  I grit my teeth, gasping for a full breath, and lean further to make it easier on him.

The show awakens something in him and before I can do anything about it he’s yanking my hips into him and with a final shove, seats every last inch of his absolutely turgid dick into me.  I manage to keep from screaming but I’m drooling and wild eyed and the bastard has enough presence of mind to chuckle at that.  He pulls back and thrusts forward with no warning and it's all he can do just to hold on.  He’s set a fast, aggressive pace before i can even rationalize his movements and another second later he’s reaching around my thigh to press two fingers to my oversensitive clit.  For a second, I think I might be able to hold on, but then he starts rubbing me in time with his merciless thrusts.  It shoves me hard into his fingers and the dual stimulation quickly reaches an absolutely mind-melting level.

My voice cuts out when I come all over his hand but he pets me and praises me for the show.  I can’t string together the words that would tell him to piss off and I also note that he shows zero signs of stopping.  His fingers are clever and deft and they’re already tracing over slick flesh again, slowly closing in on my throbbing clit for more pleasurable torture.  I get the distinct feeling this is going to be the rest of my day… though honestly even one orgasm under his meticulous touches has already made my knees weak and my throat raw… I wonder how many more it’ll take before I’m fucked absolutely stupid.

Somnophlia: Muriel x Apprentice

Day 4 - Somnophilia

Muriel x Gender Neutral Apprentice, cuddling, grinding

 

It took Muriel an unbelievably long time to get used to the Apprentice sleeping in his bed.  Nightmares and sudden panic and terrors haunted him for years and he didn’t even let Inanna  sleep there most of the time for fear of either crushing her with his tossing and turning or accidentally hurting her if he started thrashing.  

Things had mellowed, however, and while he still had nightmares occasionally, the presence of solid, heavy heat next to him had actually helped add a level of security he wasn’t used to.  But now, with the Apprentice in his bed, he was sleeping more solidly than he had in years, more solidly than maybe he ever had.  These days he slept like the dead, limp and unresponsive to everything except the most persistent calls to wake up.  Honestly, even after he was upright it took some time for him to become alert- some mornings he simply held his mug of tea, squinting blearily, hair disheveled for near on an hour before he could really function.  Asra jokingly said he was making up for two-and-a-half-plus-decades of major insomnia and Muriel couldn’t really argue with that.

But he was trained now to seek out the Apprentice’s weight and heat in the mornings in the slow process of waking up.  It was cold today, which prompted closeness as the embers in the fireplace lowered to a faint glow.  He was generally a human furnace, so to speak, and wasn't exactly cold but the chilled air prompted him to reach out through the layers of heavy furs, groping blindly until he found the Apprentice, and bodily dragged them closer to press up against.  His strength was unchecked like this, and he usually got teased for it...  But that was an issue for later.  Now, there was just the comforting heat of another body pressed along the length of his.

But of course, he was totally asleep again by the time his Apprentice could grumble sleepily and eventually stilled against him once more.  The warmth, weight, and softness beneath his calloused hands and in his scarred arms inspired some barely conscious mumbles from his throat and in a slow, languid movement, he stretched like a cat.  As he came in sluggishly to push his face into the warm crevice where the Apprentice’s smooth neck met their shoulder, he pressed in with his hips in a wholly unconscious movement.  

The friction was welcome.  Good, even.  A slow wave of goosebumps erupted up his arms after a lazy second and he nuzzled his face against the Apprentice harder, still holding them tightly against his bare chest.  At first, it took a while for his hips to repeat the lazy motion but when he did it again a shudder rippled up his heavy frame and he let out a hot breath.  The Apprentice twitched slightly but didn’t otherwise move or protest, even when Muriel gripped them a little possessively and rocked gently into them again.

A slow flood of heat was steadily rising in Muriel, even if he wasn’t really coherent enough to understand what it was or why it was happening.  His cock was steadily filling out, pressed intimately against the other body and growing thicker and harder by the second.  Muriel nuzzled even harder, growling softly until a fully realized need had overrun his brain and all he could process was heat and friction.

He made another gruff noise and his slow, disjointed presses languidly turned into something steadier, something methodical.  A kind of pressure that he could feel in every corner of his body built up steadily and his occasional grunts and soft exhales were slowly building into a constant purr.  The Apprentice barely reacted, content to ride this out (so to speak) or otherwise still asleep and blissfully unaware.

It didn’t take much for Muriel to get fully hard and he was perhaps closer to conscious now that his cock was aching with need for something slick and tight but the hut swam in his blurry vision when he could manage to keep his eyelids up for longer than a few seconds.  But the tension in him was building to a breaking point, his nerves on fire with want and his body shivery with need as he grew closer and closer to the brink.  

His mouth dropped open against the Apprentice’s neck, breath hot and wet and heavy, as they finally began stirring with more vigor, a tired, questioning noise sounding soft in the chilly morning and copious amounts of furs.  Muriel realized then what was happening with something of a jolt and his arms tensed, his hands gripping large handfuls of the Apprentice’s nightclothes tightly enough to strain the fabric.  

But he couldn’t stop… the friction, the grinding was addictive and he was so, so close.  Heat flooded his face in embarrassment but it only seemed to intensify everything… With a heavy, rough growl that reverberated through his ribcage like low thunder, he tensed up tightly and lost it.  He came with a tight noise that was viscerally pleasured despite himself but muffled somewhat by the way he was running his mouth over the Apprentices bared neck and rutting aggressively. 

Corruption: Devil Muriel x Apprentice

Day 5 - Corruption

Devil Muriel x AFAB Apprentice, dom/sub, mind control, extended grinding, magic sex compulsion, many orgasms, reversed ending relationship

 

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Muriel finally rumbles.  I really have no idea how long it's been, but I can’t stop… I’m completely out of control.  I rock against his thigh harder in frustration, the friction wet with sweat and come.  I can see him tip his head to the side, wicked, curved horns catching glimmers of the low emerald lighting that barely illuminates the chamber, his eyes glow like hot coals in his black eyes and at once it's incredibly repulsive, wrong, and heartbreaking but it's also appealing, in some twisted way that I can’t seem to resist.

But he’s doing something to me... I don’t know what.  There’s no way to know, either.  He’s the Devil now and he has everything that goes with that territory.  Myself included as per his deal for power to keep me safe… but magic works in subtle ways, especially the Devil’s.

“I’m getting bored,” he chides, though there’s no hiding the smirk on his lips or the delight in his low voice.  He moves to stand and I whine in protest, my hands tight on the straps of his pauldron and my hips pick up the pace, rocking hard against his bare thigh.  He stills but I can sense his crooked smile- so much sharper that it used to be.  “How many times have you come?” he asks after I bounce in frustration and my clit aches with the abuse.

I don’t answer quickly enough and his strong hands seize my hips, forcing them to stop.  I try to shake him and let out a strangled, frustrated sob.  He doesn’t move and his claws are tracking hard in my skin.

“How many times,” he asks again, tipping his head to look me dead in the eyes.  

The familiar war of ‘I love him, I hate him” echoes in my head but whatever he’s doing to me is strong and I feel the powerful emotions leave me as I stare dumbly at him- well, everything but the fire between my legs and the intimate knowledge that he’s the only one who can do anything about it.  “I don’t know,” I slur, trying to bounce.  “Lots.  Too many… blending together.”

He looks extra delighted by this and his leg tenses beneath me before he’s using his hands and incredible strength to move my body for me.  “Too many?” He grinds me down against his leg and I toss my head.  It hurts, I’m sore, and soaking wet but the haze of orgasm isn’t dying down… in fact it only seems to be intensifying the longer this goes on and I can’t come down in between.  I toss my head and whine again, legs trembling as he does the work for me.   “I think you have a few more in you,” he growled, his tone casual but content- as though just thinking aloud.

As soon as he says it I can feel another orgasm building in me to absolutely tremendous heights.  My body locks and my legs strain against his unmovable grip… but nothing happens.  I’m just stuck there, my whole body pulsing on the edge of coming and my clit is so sensitive from the marathon that incredibly sensitive shocks are frying my entire nervous system.  I mouth stupidly, unable to think.

“You’re like a hungry little animal in heat,” he taunts, leaning in to seal his lips over mine but I’m stiff as a board, frozen at the edge, and can’t even kiss him back or snarl at his comment.

“Y-you did this!” I manage to grit through my teeth with an exhausting amount of effort.  My whole body is on fire, muscles screaming to untense.

He shrugs, still smirking, still baring his teeth.  This time he lets go of my hips and orgasm crashes into me like a ton of bricks.  He doesn’t sit back and watch this time.  Instead he grabs my jaw and hauls me in, kissing me so hard my frantic moans are smothered.  My hips are grinding on him again, my arms flinging around his neck to bring me in closer to his body, my nails digging into his bare shoulders and he only chuckles into my mouth and bounces his leg a little roughly.

Denial/Breathplay: Muriel x Jullian

Day 6 - Denial / Breathplay

Muriel x Julian, platonic sex, consensual choking, orgasm denial, bribery, shameless begging

 

Muriel made a mental note to himself to never, ever agree to do another favor for Asra ever again.  This was out of his pay grade, so to speak, but words had already been given and he was already (unfortunately) committed.  Julian was… nervous?  Muriel wasn’t sure if that was the right word.  He was definitely something, however, red and sweaty and not at all his usual blustering self.  Though maybe that had more to do with the large hand clamped over his mouth with a kind of steady confidence that was somewhat rare for Muriel.  

At first he had flat out refused Julian’s request but the lanky doctor had spent several arduous and embarrassing minutes explaining that he was in no real danger and that it wasn’t strictly a pain thing.  Muriel was dubious but as he’d already agreed to oblige Julian as a favor to Asra without asking enough questions first (a mistake he swore he’d never make again) he felt that he wasn’t really able to cop out.  But then, almost experimentally, Muriel had succumbed to his instinctive desire to shut Julian up and simply grabbed his lower face- not at all hard enough to hurt or even maintain if Julian jerked away- but the doctor’s eyes had rolled straight back into his head and his gangly legs buckled tremulously.  He was certainly taken mildly off guard when Julian started grunting “yesyesyes'' beneath his palm for a few seconds, and then Muriel’s innate curiosity won out.

Experimentally, he backed Julian into a corner, muscular arm outstretched and huge hand still clamped tightly over his mouth.  The doctor put up no resistance at all, though he did reach up to grip Muriel’s tense forearm with a level of greed that surprised him.  Without really exerting himself, Muriel shoved him lightly and let go, pulling back to watch somewhat stonily as Julian dropped atop the low couch in a heap, panting as though he had just sprinted several miles.  After a second, he looked up (and up) until he could take in Muriel’s expression- cold and maybe a little closed off (like usual) but undeniably intrigued and a little flushed.  “If it makes no difference to you,” Julian wheezed, pressing a hand down against his overeager cock, trying to tame its demanding ache straining at the front of his pants.  “Your hand… on my throat would be a lot better.”

Muriel scowled.  “You better thank Asra profusely after this,” he grumbled.  He hesitated a second while Julian waited (Julian rather thought it was the longest few seconds of his life) until, eventually, Muriel sighed and came closer.  Julian was caught off guard when Muriel angled his hand and wrapped strong, thick fingers around his neck.  Not to get academic but Julian noted immediately that Muriel seemed to know exactly how to do this- his palm put pressure against his carotid arteries, his fingers were curling into the tendons of his neck.  He wasn’t gripping all that hard but Julian ached at the idea that Muriel could simply hold this position forever… keep Julian exactly where he was with no effort at all.  Physically speaking, Muriel outstripped by a huge margin.  Privately, he was once again grateful to call him a friend and not an enemy.

Julian tried to gasp wetly and felt his larynx settle somewhere in the meat of Muriel’s huge palm.  He couldn’t fight the hot smothering sensation and he began to writhe sinuously- completely beyond his control.  His hips bucked up sharply- he couldn’t help it- his dick was so hard he couldn’t think, only arch his hips stupidly for friction that wasn't there.  In a second of clarity, he knew what was going to happen before it did and he fought against it as hard as his lust-soaked brain could.  

He rode the edge for just an instant before Muriel jerked him forcefully back down onto the couch surface and he was coming with a series of airless heaves and several sharp jerks of his hips before he could even stop to think about it.  Muriel released his grip and the flood of oxygen was just about euphoric as Julian came down, and it was all he could do just to sprawl bonelessly for a second.  

He was mortified, he didn’t think he’d come so fast since he was a teenager… and now his (in-all-likelihood) single opportunity with Muriel and his ridiculous body was gone in under a minute.  He was sure he’d never live down the shame and his face was on fire with embarrassment and masochistic arousal.

When he could finally look up into Muriel’s face another hot flash of desire stormed across him and he staggered to his feet.  “W-wow, um.  I don’t usually… That is...” Julian was wheezing in a distinctly unflattering way and his face was deep crimson, flushed with lust.  “You can do worse, of course,” Julian suggested, cocking an eyebrow up at Muriel’s stoic face.  He could already feel himself getting hard again, and harder still as he took in Muriel’s powerful build and bare, sculpted chest with undue hunger.  He felt wildly out of control and was completely incapable of reining his dick in even a little.

To Julian’s immediate unease, Muriel made a dismissive gesture and half-turned towards the door.  “None of that was part of the deal,” he rumbled lowly, watching Julian’s face go from suggestive and marginally (if transparently) composed to wide eyed with dawning horror.  Muriel raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the front of Julian’s pants where his cock was obviously already hard again and aching for another go.  “You even finished quicker than I thought.”

The facade of easy confidence was gone in an instant and Julian’s hands wrapped tightly around Muriel’s wrist.  “Yes, that was entirely un-unexpected.  You’re just… so exemplary, ah… Please, please.  I’ve thought about it for so long.”

Muriel just stared for a moment, a little self conscious, sure, but mostly impressed that Julian wanted to be choked so badly he was ready to debase himself to such an extent.  “Me choking you?” he asked, incredulous to the point of nearly scoffing.

Julian however, was dead serious.  Or rather, was so desperate to continue that he wasn’t in his right mind enough to joke about it.  “With any part of your body,” he gasped out, trying hard to appeal to whatever in Muriel might humor him and his insistent, masochistic dick.  “You’re a… big boy,” he managed with some delicacy.  “When was the last time you managed to get uh... all of yourself into someone?  I can take it.”

This time Muriel did scoff, barely covering a quiet laugh.  “You’ll have to go back to Asra and get him to negotiate that,” he said calmly, to Julian’s utter horror and he was out the door the next second, leaving Julian standing there with a hard-on he was going to have to deal with on his own.  Muriel wondered if he really would go to Asra and resolved to ask about it in the morning.

Screaming: Devil Muriel x Apprentice

Day 7 - Screaming

Devil Muriel, AMAB Apprentice, dom/sub tones, humiliation, loud sex

 

“Don’t hide your face,” Muriel growled, the dark leer evident in his low voice.  “You always manage to look so enticing when I’ve got you squirming around like that on my dick.”  And it was true.  Though Muriel couldn’t honestly deny that he really only had eyes for his Fool, especially now that they were sequestered in the Devil’s realm for the foreseeable future.

The Fool was indeed squirming around aimlessly, taking Muriel’s thick cock down to the hilt.  He was gasping raggedly but unprotesting, flat on his back against the cold black stone dais that occupied most of the chamber floor.  He was unbound, limbs gracelessly sprawled whichever way Muriel’s occasional thrusts or readjustments left them.  Muriel supposed they had been at this for a while but he hadn’t personally felt exhausted in a long time… and the Fool, the Apprentice, was still mostly human.  Mostly.  Gently, Muriel ran a few clawed fingertips down the Apprentice’s sweaty torso, starting at the graceful dip of his collar all the way down his midline until he could lightly scratch at the dark hair pooling around his hard cock.

“And look, you’re still rock hard for me,” Muriel crooned lowly.  “You’re really amazing like that.”  He tracked his claws down his prize’s ribs and then gripped his flanks tightly, pulling him in until the Apprentice’s legs were splayed wide around his hips and he was taking Muriel as deep as possible.  The noise the Apprentice made was choked and desperate but transparently needy, as were the jerky little motions of his hips that simply begged for more even if his mouth wasn’t entirely given over to the urge to grovel for it just yet.  Muriel frankly thought the filling sensation must have been incredible and imagined his cock must be piercing so obscenely deep inside his little toy.

Muriel leaned down, bracing his knees and closing in until his heavy, bare chest- hot to the touch and rock solid- pressed against the Apprentice’s which was flushed dark and shuddering with their needy little gasps.  The Apprentice certainly wasn't small by any means but Muriel was broad and tall and heavy and had always overshadowed most, at least on a physical scale.  As the Devil his presence seemed only larger and the Fool was easily contained as Muriel pinned each bicep to the ground in a grip that wasn’t overtly cruel but was definitely inescapable.  Most of Muriel’s weight came to rest against him, smothering him as the Devil nearly laid down on top of him. 

With a rough exhale against the Apprentice’s red, exposed throat that tapered into a humored, pleasured grunt, Muriel pulled back until only the head of his cock remained inside, pulling slightly at the Apprentice’s tight hole.  “You will scream for me.  How long will it take?” he growled ferally,  before suddenly thrusting back in and setting an absolutely ruthless pace while his mostly-human companion went tight as a wire and gasped so loudly it echoed across the empty chamber. The tone of Muriel’s voice was almost conversational if condescending, his smirk a sharp, arrogant little thing as he took full and unabashed pleasure in riling up his little Fool.  “You’re already past the point where you can talk coherently.”

His strokes were heavy and fast,  and the Apprentice gave a sudden disobedient squirm.  “I d-dont-!  I’m not-! Ngh! ” 

Muriel shook his head, smirk broadening with a kind of twisted affection.  “Shut up,” he grunted with an entertained laugh (more overtly interested in playfully antagonizing him than in actually keeping the Apprentice quiet).  He adjusted, shifting his hips to ensure that his cockhead was shoving up against the Fool’s prostate, ruthlessly driving him tighter and louder with each incredibly full thrust.  He was pressed up against the slighter frame tightly, practically smothering the Apprentice with his weight and heat.  

Muriel was solidly braced, his hips rolling smoothly and his hands greedy-tight on the Apprentice’s arms but it wasn’t beyond his notice that no protests came out of those flushed lips- only wet little gasps and truncated little moans.  Suddenly wanting to hear more debased little noises, Muriel grabbed the Apprentice’s face and gave his head a slight shake.  “Does all that choking and gasping mean you’re enjoying yourself?”  He didn’t remove his hand for a reply and only kept up with the ribbing, still fucking the Apprentice through it with full, deep thrusts that were hard enough to make the Apprentice’s eyes start to roll back into his pretty little head.  “You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Muriel rumbled lowly.  “Your cock is still hard and pushing up against me every time I move.”  The Fool whined, body flexing hungrily but he didn’t have the strength or leverage to influence Muriel’s pace or position.

Muriel, conversely had strength to spare and moved to start wrenching the Apprentice’s hips in to meet his thrusts, driving them to the point of grinding their jaw in an effort to keep from screaming.  They both knew it wasn’t going to last and sure enough, Muriel’s next thrust bottomed out and he held it, his hands tight on the Apprentice’s wildly bucking hips and they let out a very satisfying, very loud, sustained noise that reverberated off the stone surroundings.  

These days, Muriel was never one to miss an opportunity to overdo things and he reacted predictably to the encouragement.  He leaned down and sunk his teeth into the Fool’s straining neck- not hard enough to hurt, barely hard enough to mark- and held tight as he began thrusting again, rough and hard and utterly, stubbornly holding his own pace and refusing to be influenced by the Apprentice’s sudden desperate bucking and rasping moans that were steadily building louder and louder.

At once, Muriel bit harder and wrenched the Fool down, arching his hips forward almost as hard as he could and was immediately obliged with exactly what he was after.  The Apprentice screamed, the sound wrenched out of him and Muriel laughed throatily.  For the first fuck of the day, Muriel considered that a job done well.

Creampie: Asra x Julian

Day 8 - Creampie

Asra x Julian, Asra has a Dick, platonic sex, light bondage, light dom/sub, light orgasm denial

 

“You’re really something, Ilya,” Asra said in that low voice that was all incense and strong tea.  “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you were trying to get a rise out of me.”

Julian’s flush was maybe a dead giveaway but he shook his head quickly enough for Asra to make an impatient noise.  “You barge in here after being gone for so long and my apprentice tells me you dumped him after, what, a day?  A new record for you, surely.  And then of course I find you lurking in here… You were probably dying to be punished for so many transgressions.”

There was a second of silence (aside from Julian’s heavy breathing through the strap gag Asra had fit on him) before he flushed even darker and his eyes sort of went glassy.  Asra knew that look all too well and he brought the palm of his hand across one of Julian’s flanks with a resounding crack.  Julian, naturally, didn’t cry out, he simply gripped the edge of the counter he was bent over and moaned breathlessly into the leather strap sealing his mouth, his eyelids fluttering for a second as the pain coursed through him and electrified his nerves.

Fingers curled in the hair at the top of his head, gentle at first, but the grip tightened by degrees and his skull was tilted to a sharp angle.  “Weren’t you, Ilya.”

Another second of ragged breathing before he acquiesced and nodded, shamefaced, his legs shaking with the effort of keeping him upright.  Asra could look as nonthreatening and unassuming as wished but they both knew he was more than capable of what Julian craved most.  

The errant doctor was largely unbound, tall body bent awkwardly in half over the shop counter, resting on his elbows and stripped of his clothing except for his pants and over-the-knee boots.  He was held in place with nothing more than the knowledge of what the crafty magician was liable to do (or NOT do) to him if he acted out at this stage and he remained where he had been put.  Asra had put a small myriad of spells up- ones that blocked the sights and sounds inside the shop to the streets outside and one that made Julian’s body oversensitive and heated as though mildly fevered (he always liked the extra effect it brought).

Still holding Julian’s head up by the hair, Asra’s other hand wended slowly around his hip to toy with the fixture at the front of the doctor’s tight pants, undoing each button with a kind of teasing slowness until he could feel tremors running up and down Julian’s long legs.  “If I had any sense at all I would tell the guards where you are while I’ve got you distracted like this.”

But then Asra was shrugging, entertained and frustrated with himself all at the same time.  “But you wouldn’t have come here if you were worried about that.  Am I right, Ilya?”  He pulled Julian’s trousers down- so god damned slowly- but neglected to remove his boots and simply left the fabric bunched hastily above the shiny black leather.

Asra chuckled as Julian’s cock sprang free- dark with need and pointing stiffly towards his flat belly.  “Insatiable,” he remarked, coldly.

Julian let out a pleading, breathy little noise, his whole body blood-flushed and shivery in the dim lantern light.  Asra was versatile and so incredibly flexible like this that he could barely breathe for anticipation.  His cock was so hard it hurt- just another delicious ache, frankly, and he wallowed in it shamelessly.

“But that’s always been your thing, Ilya,” Asra said, intentionally lingering on the name as he came in closer to stand behind Julian.  He was still fully clothed, of course and he made sure Julian knew it by rubbing up against his thigh very gently.  Truth be told, if you had asked Asra a couple hours ago if he would ever fuck around with Julian Devorak again he would have said  no.  But then Julian had found his way back to him and despite knowing full well Asra’s heart was not in this for anything more than occasional side trysts, the doctor’s relentless hunger made for a chemical reaction that was hard to stop.  Plus, Asra couldn’t deny that he did legitimately burn off frustration with Julian like this… the mild and sometimes baffling irritations over the last few days (Julian about in Vesuvia again, the investigation, the Apprentice upset that he had… broken up with them???  After a day???) certainly warranted it.  Asra shook his head and pulled back, making Julian tense in anticipation.

His fist tightened in Julian’s hair, tugging his skull to prompt him to maintain an awkward, rigid angle over the desk.  “No slouching,” Asra teased lowly, waiting for Julian to hold his skull up on his own before letting go in favor of needlessly adjusting the position of his hips.  Asra liked to drag this part out as long as possible, building patiently on Julian’s wildly impatient nature and slutty squirming.  But of course, he couldn’t deny he was eager for his prize.

Julian never took much prep work.  He was compliant and his body responded quickly to any and all encouragement.  “I’m flattered that I was so high on your list of people to hassle the second you go back, Ilya,” Asra said with something of a leer as he surprised Julian with another sharp blow to his flank that made him collapse against the desk.  Asra’s hit wasn’t all that strong- sharp enough to sting, sure, but the strike made Julian’s nerves go haywire and he could barely stay on his visibly shaking legs.  The magician noted with intense satisfaction that Julian’s cock was still hard as sin and dripping a copious amount of precome while a perfect handprint bloomed stark and red on each flank.

With a copious amount of scented oil and a few slow, patient minutes later, Asra deemed Julian ready and took his sweet time lining up.  He normally considered himself a warm and easy-going lover (not that he had taken many people to his bed, especially these last few years) but Julian managed to just… bring out the coldness in him in a way that was thrilling and a little addicting, if he was being honest.  He bit his lip to keep from making too much noise as he took his cock in hand and, after a few easy strokes, began to line up with Julian’s impatient ass.

“You’re giving Nadi headaches, you broke into my shop twice, and somehow,” Asra’s words sharpened (he couldn’t help it) and the gentility he was exerting in breaching Julian rapidly faded away into something more insistent.  “Somehow in the course of just one day, you seduced my apprentice and broke up with them in a dramatic fit of self-sabotage?  Ilya, you need to pace yourself better.  And stay away from them, not that you know what’s good for you.  Not that I’m going to delude myself.”  Julian whined breathlessly at the slow fill.  Asra was nothing if not intense when it came to their trysts- Julian would have also been a shameless liar on top of being a masochistic glutton if he denied how absolutely attractive that was.

But soon, with patience, Asra was fully seated in him and he felt his brain go liquid at the sensation of being stretched and filled, even before Asra started moving.  More than any other lover Julian had ever been with, Asra was almost clinically methodical with a flare for finding ways to make the intensity skyrocket whenever he felt things were coming to a lull.

Still refusing to move with Julian taking him all the way to the root, Asra suddenly bent forward and reached for Julian’s stiff cock, throbbing stupidly at the neglect.  He pinched the base, tightly, and Julian’s whole body cringed and shuddered with the effort of not shouting, though Asra was delighted to find his eyes glazed over and a thin thread of saliva trailing down his jaw from under the gag.  “You’re already slavering,” Asra pointed out helpfully, as though Julian wasn’t excruciatingly aware.

Asra didn’t bother starting slow, he knew Julian well enough to know better.  Instead he pulled out and pushed back methodically, setting a pace that was impatient enough to get Julian’s breathing to go even more jagged and his body to flex impatiently.  He kept a firm grip on the base of Julian’s cock, not wanting him to get overloaded into orgasm too quickly.  “Don’t disappoint me and come too soon, I’ll use magic if I have to.  I’m told it's… fairly intense.”

Julian groaned breathlessly in answer, apparently quite taken by the idea, but Asra continued to pay him only minimal attention as his pace built up to speed.  He did his best to be as absolutely methodical as he could.  Julian didn’t disappoint either- his voice (even under the gag) was breathy and pitched low, his long legs trembling and his body shaking tremulously in the position Asra had directed.  The magician could feel Julian absolutely throbbing against his hand and was mildly impressed he’d held on this long.

Asra could never resist the opportunity to press his advantage though and he braced his feet and started angling his thrusts up at the peak of each one.  Julian’s bent position negated some of the height difference and Asra’s confident pumping was driving him to his toes on every thrust.  His noises picked up instantly, moaning huskily at the peak of each one, his breaths ragged and loud as his prostate was relentlessly pounded.

“I’m gonna come in you, Ilya,” Asra said coolly, though there was an undeniable flush rising in his high cheekbones as his lips quirked in a sly smirk.  “Is that okay?”

Julian, shameless as every, nodded frantically, moaning and tensing up, eager for Asra to finish.  He thrust forward shakily, trying to communicate that he desperately wanted to come but the magician continued to according to his own agenda, still pinching him tight enough to stave off the orgasm he so desperately wanted.

Asra went tense and a shudder rippled over his lithe body, he held for an extended second, coming thick and hard.  He- of course- took his time appreciating the sensation as he came down from climax, though Julian was now shifting frantically against him, making needy, impatient little noises muffled under tight leather.

In the interest of spectacle, Asra pulled out as slowly as he could, letting out a quiet noise of praise as Julian keened with the movement and bucked impatiently against Asra’s stubborn hold on him.  “I do so love to see you make an absolute mess out of yourself,” he crooned with a low chuckle.  “So go ahead.  Show me.”  He adjusted his grip, fisting Julian absolutely turgid length and began to pump quickly.  The doctor choked then let out his most lascivious noise yet and Asra could see his eyes roll back into this head as the flush painting his face grew even darker.

Come spilled out of Julian’s used little hole with his jerky bucking movements, and Asra only deigned to jack him off faster and harder for it.  It spilled down the backs of his thighs and dripped off his balls, bouncing slightly with the vehemence of his rocking hips.  Julian never lasted tremendously long once direct stimulation was involved and he was given permission to come and he didn’t disappoint tonight either.  

His moans truncated into sharp, staccato little noises and his hips stuttered and held at the tops of his thrusts now.  When he came it was with several forceful spurts and an obscenely hungry groan that was nothing but breathy and raw and made all the more explicit by the leather cinched around his face.

“You can clean up before you leave if you think you’ll be back here any time soon,” Asra said with a deceptively warm smile and a condescending pat on the head.

Exhibitionism: Apprentice x Julian

Day 9 - Exhibitionism

AMAB Apprentice x Julian, 2nd Person POV, blowjobs, public sex, light dom/sub tones

 

It was obvious Julian was into it, as was usually the case whenever you got that rough note to your voice and your touch got a little harder, more insistent.  He was incredibly weak to that, afterall, and had really wasted no time in making that as clear as possible.  Still, something felt like you were venturing into somewhat uncharted territory... but that only seemed to heat his blood more.  Yours too, of course.  

The masquerade was maybe a better place than most to engage in lewd behavior where anyone could see.  Most of the rooms were dark, most of the guests were inebriated in some form or another, everyone was in costumes replete with masks… You were pretty certain this was the whole appeal of a masked ball anyway.  So when you couldn’t really wipe your mind clear of the image of handsome Julian Devorak on his knees for you in broad daylight (as a turn of speech, anyway) there was really only one option.

The good thing is that when you get ideas like that in your head, Julian is willing to oblige you your every demand as long as you want it bad enough.  And you do, so he does.  He blusters for a split second when you grab his shoulder and steer him into the nearest wall, a darkish corner where another couple is handily making out a few feet away.  By the time you guide him to his knees though, you can see that his eyes are heavy and half lidded.  When he looks up at you from his kneeling position (gloved hands braced dutifully on his thighs) you can see that his face is already deeply flushed and he’s biting his lip in a way that makes your own blood rise.

Anyone can see, you’re certain some have already chanced a glance at what you’re positioning to do but it's hard to hear any specific chatter over the roar of the crowd.  Unable to wait a single second longer, you quickly wrench open your pants and give your cock a few rough strokes to curb your impatience.  It doesn’t really work.  Instead, you can hear Julian whine and feel his hot breath closer to you and you can see after a second  that he is leaning in impatiently, eager to do the job you’re giving him.  He’s always such a good boy.

As soon as you move your hand he sinks down on you, ready and willing and his eyes don’t even dart around to the figures of guests gliding around the dim room.  They just remain half-lidded and focused on the task at hand.  He always starts slow but you and he are both one-hundred-percent aware that he can only resist displaying his talents for so long.  Soon his shallow sucking and shameless tonguing turn hard and aggressive.  He’s swallowing most of you with each bob of his head.  His hands didn’t stay on his knees for long, either.  Its only a few short moments before his long, leather-gloved fingers are trailing up the tiny bit of exposed thigh under your shirt tails, then gently down your shaft and around your tight balls.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and then he’s taking you all the way, until part of his mask  brushes up against the lower slope of your abdomen and all you can feel is the tight wet heat of his throat accepting all of you.  The noise around you fades to a dull roar- or maybe that’s just the pounding of your pulse in your ears, who knows- but the Masquerade falls away around you and even if, somewhere deep down, you know that anyone could stop and enjoy the show, this dark corner is enough for what you want right now.  Besides, Julian’s a born performer, why deprive him of this.

You don’t really warn him when you come, not verbally anyway.  You’re pretty sure he can tell by the way you pull him in closer by the hair and let out a low, tight grunt.  He, conversely, redoubles his efforts until he’s drooling around you and his single visible eye is watering.  You blow your load straight down his throat with a noise you’re fairly sure is too loud even for this.  But you can’t take it back and you’re still coming so you don’t actually care all that much.  Julian- he always works so hard for you- manages to choke down most of it but when you pull away some come threads out of his mouth for an instant before he turns to wipe at his face and make himself even remotely presentable.  The other couple that had been nearby has vanished, you notice, but you definitely get the feeling that a few people were privy to and enjoyed the little show.

Cockwarming: Devil Apprentice x Muriel

Day 10 - Cockwarming

AFAB Apprentice x Muriel,  fem!Devil!Apprentice, Domination, kinda petplay?, bondage, objectification, heavy dom/sub, Reversed Ending, shout out to @Coyo-tl on Tumblr for the inspiration, also this is assuming the MC makes similar deals to Nadia’s Bad Ending ones.

 

Brainwashing: Devil Muriel x Apprentice

Day 11 - Brainwashing

Devil!Muriel x AFAB Apprentice ,  Devil!Muriel Domination, kinda petplay?, heavy dom/sub, Reversed Ending Relationship... This one's less porny and simply more focused on the twisted nature of the reversed relationship.  Gotta pace myself we still have like 20 days to go lol

 

Sex Magic: Asra x Julian

Day 12 - Magic

Asra x Julian, inappropriate use of magic, light dom/sub

 

Slapping: Apprentice x Lucio

Day 13 - Slapping

Lucio x GN Apprentice, name calling, very light impact play.

 

Bloodplay: Scourge of the South

Day 14 - Bloodplay 

Scourge of the South, masturbation, sensory play kind of, blood, masochism, general violence warning 

 

The Scourge of the South was entirely unconquered in the Coliseum, no matter what Count Lucio threw in there with him.  The crowd screamed for his defeat and ate up anything that had a chance at doing so but there was no hiding the fact that they also lusted for the sight of him destroying his opponents- no matter how impossible they seemed to be- and drenching the sands with blood.  Men, monsters, beasts… Count Lucio had thrown them all at the Scourge and none had yet taken him down.

The Scourge was a brutal fighter of absolutely peerless combat presence- deadly with any weapon tossed at his feet and extraordinarily, shockingly deadly with his bare hands.  The barehanded combat was such a gory, visceral delight that the Count favored it for things that didn’t require the formality of the trial-by-combats or other special opponents.  And currently, one of the crowd’s favorite match types was taking place.

Six fully armed and experienced mercenaries were all competing simultaneously for a massive pot to be split amongst the survivors for taking down the Scourge.  So far, things were going predictably.  Three of them were already dead, their broken bodies tossed carelessly aside as the enormous, hulking form of the Scourge contended with two of the three remaining at the same time.  One he was repeatedly slamming into the arena wall, one huge hand curled tight in his cross-chest leather harness and the other merc was trapped in a crushing headlock, his skull clamped tight in the crook of the Scourge’s thick, muscular arm and face darkening steadily with asphyxiation.  

While the Scourge would undoubtedly kill all of these men (and that was slowly becoming very obvious ) a single fighter simply can’t cover all of their vulnerabilities to a group.  His body was decorated with a slew of steadily bleeding gashes and damage from a variety of weapons.  There was a knife still casually embedded in his shoulder blade and every visible inch of skin was caked with blood- both slowly congealing and fresh.  The crowd cheered as the third remaining opponent took the opportunity to launch himself at the Scourge’s back, throwing an arm around his thick neck and driving a wickedly curved dagger into his unprotected abdomen just above his waistguard.  

With a roar of fury, the Scourge dropped the man he’d been smashing (who was senseless and not likely to get up again any time soon) and whirled full force on the third assailant, landing a full power, heavy hook directly across his jaw that was so hard, his head snapped to the side with a spray of blood and he dropped to the sand like a stone.

---

By the time the fight was over, six men lay dead in varying states of wholeness, strewn about the arena grounds like so many discarded, broken toys.  The Scourge of the South stood, panting slightly in the open center absolutely drenched in gore.  As he was led back to his holding cell and the adrenaline of bloodletting wore off, he absently lifted his forearm to seal his lips around a deep gash that had been notched into his unprotected flesh. Blood flooded his mouth at the pressure and he growled lowly as the pain reawakened some of his deadening nerves.  One of the guards gestured with his spear irritably, unsatisfied with how quickly they were proceeding, and the Scourge turned on him like a pissed off wild cat, snarling violently, his full, bloody lips curled over blood-flecked teeth and the soldier actually dropped his weapon, collapsing backwards on his ass clumsily.

The guard contingent was a fucking formality- at best- and they all knew it.  The Scourge was inhuman,  brutal to the core and so feral most everyone thought him an insane monster, frothing at the mouth for mindless violence and gore.  Lucio liked the drama of him exiting the stage surrounded by armed guards, liked the theater of keeping him in a cell, but the truth of the matter was that the Scourge of the South usually did these things compliantly.  

Though, of course, every now and again some guard would get cocky and careless, sometimes they’d be emboldened by his odd passivity or simply feel that senseless desire to lord power over someone they theoretically had control over.  Lucio got extremely bent out of shape for murdered or injured guards, but that didn’t stop the Scourge from repaying stupidity or a misplaced sense of power with soul-crushing violence at the drop of a hat.

His outburst had sent the rest of the guards away quickly by the time he was back in his cell, and- distracted from their incessant talking and clanking, he brought his forearm back up to his mouth, laving slowly at the ragged edge of flesh.  The pain doused his senses- he was exhausted, and even though the crowd never knew how much world-ending pain he could endure his cell saw all the damage scrawled across his flesh, the exhaustion weighing on his limbs…  Maybe he’d get a medic by the time he was forced back out to the sands and his charge of spilling more blood to the sounds of the stands shrieking for more.  Maybe not.  It barely mattered.

Adrenaline was slowly draining from his system with the lack of bodies to break and his nerves were slowly growing dead to the world.  Sensation was a confusing competition of muffled inputs- he couldn’t tell if the blood on his lips or his tongue against the gash was hotter, only that his mouth was wet with it and the taste of blood made the fine hairs at the back of his neck rise and his jaw ache sharply.  Exhaling loudly through his nose, he trailed his fingers down his chest- where a full strength punch from one of the mercenaries had left a bruise but little else.  Another mark, closer to his sternum showed the imprints of a riveted leather glove from a second attempt.  He pressed against the faint, barely visible marks.  The merc had hit him as hard as he could in a wild, last ditch effort to escape and even his full powered, animal struggling had barely managed to dent the Scourge’s flesh.  Irritated suddenly, he moved on.

His life was a confusing mixture of despair and helplessness (perhaps ironic for someone who was forced to spend their time dismantling others), soul crushing boredom that had his mind half shut down most of the time, and unending physical violence in both dealing and enduring pain…. His thick, filthy fingers found the knife wound in his abdomen next.  The blade hadn’t been angled well enough to hit vitals.  The sensation of his fingers nearing the edge of the wound ignited the sensory memory of him slowly pulling the blade out of himself while the crowd went absolutely wild in the stands.

He remembered the gush of fresh blood and again now, as his fingers prodded the torn flesh and a renewed surge of sluggish blood trailed down his carved stomach and into the sash tied around his waist.  Unable to resist, he followed the trail with morbidly curious fingers, brushing them across the open wound- he inhaled somewhat sharply- before trailing them through the line of dark hair thatching his lower belly and the slope of his abdominals.  His blood was thick and murder-red against his sweat and dirt smeared flesh and the smell of it was heavy in the humid air and on his tongue.  

His hand slid lower, his hot, sweaty palm flattening against the lowest planes of his stomach until he could slide it downwards through the bloody hair and under his sash.  With a jagged exhale, he curled his fingers tightly around the shaft of his cock- which had thickened to it’s full girth sometime during his masochistic exploration of the wounds decorating his body.  The pain was razing his nerves, simply sending signals where usually none existed, and the taste of blood was making him salivate uncontrollably.

His cock pulsed against the heat of his palm and before he could stop himself (not that he would, he was drowning in sensation and being back in his cell only meant that was eventually going to fade until his next bout…) and his hand moved up and back down the thick shaft with rapidly gaining intent, until he was pumping hard and fast.  His thighs flexed impatiently, and he could feel a muscle twinging in his flank with every eager shift of his tired hips.  He wasn’t going to last long, it was already abundantly clear even before the throbbing started to build to excruciating levels and his balls drew up in preparation.  He never lasted long.  The onslaught of so much sensation was quickly too much for him these days and when the rush was as powerful as this was, he was quick to succumb to the succor.

He leaned back, tightening his fingers by degrees and stroking himself from root to tip in an excruciatingly methodical pace.  The head of his cock was swollen and bulging tightly, his throbbing pulse pounding throughout most of his lower half.  His whole body rippled and his breathing cut short and ragged.  It cut out entirely when he came, choking slightly as he shot hard and fast, come splattering hot and thick as it smeared across his bare thigh, hand, and stomach, mixing with the blood and grime already painted across him in large quantities.

Dominance: Devil Muriel x Apprentice

Day 15 - Dominance 

Devil!Muriel, cockwarming, oral, creampies, Reversed Ending Relationships, d/s elements, corruption, power dynamics

 

 

Face Fucking: Main 6

Day 16 - Face Fucking

Main 6, Blowjobs, Strap-Ons, Humiliation, Face Sitting, Mild Orgasm Denial, Dirty  Talk

 

Asra

Giving

 

Taking

For both he’ll make smarmy little comments later with that sly little smirk of his.

 


Julian

Giving

Taking

 


Nadia

Giving

Taking

 


Lucio

Giving

Taking

 


Portia

Giving

Taking

 


Muriel

Giving

Taking

Secret Kinks: Main 6

Day 17 - Secret Kinks

Main 6, biting, breathplay, toys, etc etc

 

Asra

 


Nadia

 


Julian

 


Portia

 


Lucio

 


Muriel

Begging: Main 6

Day 18 - Begging

Main 6

 

Asra



Nadia

 

Julian

 

Lucio

 

Portia

 

Muriel

Yandere: Apprentice Erin x Muriel

Day 19 - Yandere

Devil!Erin, Corruption, Possessive Behavior, Magically Backed Power Dynamic, D/s, Brainwashing.  Being the Devil goes to Erin's head.  Also this is supposing that she made a similar deal as Nadia in her bad end.

 

Modern AU: Main 6

Day 20 - Modern AU

Modern AU, main 6, toys, gags, hookups, lewd pics

 

Asra

 

Julian

 

Nadia

 

Lucio

 

Portia

 

Muriel

OC Headcanons: Apprentice Erin x Muriel

Day 20 - Modern AU

Apprentice Erin, Muriel, top/bottom dynamics, praise kink, mild size kink, relationship dynamics

 

Sensory Deprivation: Main 6

Day 22 - Sensory Deprivation

Main 6, blinfolds, gags, bondage, etc

 

Lucio


 

Julian


 

Nadia


 

Muriel


 

Asra


 

Portia

Boobs: Muriel

Day 23 - Boobs

Muriel, semi body worship, nipple play.  He's just got an amazing chest and I wanted to talk about it in excruciating detail.

 

Desperation: Scourge of the South

Day 24 - Desperation 

Scourge of the South, literal desperation, violence, feral nature, pain/suffering, general violence.  Mostly inspired by @coto-ly on Tumblr.

 

Size Kink: Apprentice Erin x Muriel

Day 25 - Size Kink

Size kink, penetration, outdoor sex, creampie

 

It was hard, honestly, Erin mused to herself.  She never really had any untoward feelings about Muriel’s size going into this.  She was barely over five feet tall after all… everyone was taller than her so she really didn’t think very hard about how much she craned up to look Muriel in the eyes.  Or later, when they got closer, how the swell of his chest looked when she was too close and couldn’t even see his face without repositioning herself.  While mildly inconvenient sometimes (that time they danced at the Masquerade, trying to hug with both of them standing flat on the ground...), it had really only been a little comical at worst and she barely thought about it.

But now- and she was excruciatingly embarrassed by this- she couldn’t get enough of it.  Just how big Muriel was, especially in comparison to her.  And of course the last thing she wanted to do was make a big deal out of it.  He seemed so much more comfortable with himself these days and she didn’t want things to get weird just because she privately couldn’t stop fixating on minor details about his body.

When they idled in bed one night, (Erin was slow to wind down at night and usually needed whatever distraction Muriel seemed to not mind providing) she had been twining and untwining their fingers together, absently rubbing his scarred knuckles with her thumb occasionally.  He let out a quiet snort and at her answering, curious look, shifted his weight and adjusted her hand so that their palms pressed together.  He chuckled and then curled his fingers and each digit could fold easily over her own.

“Tiny hands,” he rumbled with a short laugh while she frowned irritably, which only made him chuckle a little more- especially when he shifted to take her hand in his (which did, in fact, entirely engulf it) and go back to relaxing against the soft mattress. 

It was always seemingly innocent little moments like that, too.  Especially, since the forest kind of serves as its own barrier that gives them a comfortable amount of privacy at all hours of the day.

A few days later, she couldn’t help but fixate on the size of him (once again) when he shyly cornered her against a huge tree after his attention span’s wandered away from the mushrooms he’s supposed to be helping her find.  Muriel always moved with surprising ease and coordination for someone so large… Erin wasn’t sure what exactly made her think he would be clumsy and loud but he’s just not.  When he came in close enough to make her blood pump quicker, he braced a thick, muscular arm next to her shoulder and leaned in- Erin’s eyes were set just at his sternum and all she could see was smooth, tanned flesh and chest hair through his carelessly unfastened shirt.  Occasionally, he’d make a questioning face at her reactiveness when he’s got her caged against a flat surface like that but so far he’d refrained from questioning it out loud- which at least spared her the humiliation of trying to explain how hot it is.

Of course, she doesn’t want to make him self conscious but these days the size of him, the difference between them has gotten exciting .  It was difficult not to feel entirely dwarfed in him when he finally stooped low enough to crush their lips together just like it was hard not to feel some primal thrill at having to stretch to reach his hair or the loose collar of his shirt and yank him downwards.  Honestly, the intimacy’s only made it a thousand times worse.

There’s just… so much of him.  And it’s all so very attractive.

She tried not to let it show but she was already flushed dark by the time he leaned in to turn the kissing into light, almost teasing mouthing down her soft jawline and to her throat.  A part of her definitely felt exasperated at his inadvertent ability to make her feel small but a much louder voice insists that it was hotter than all hell.  Of course, she went with his lead too, running her hands eagerly up his sides and across the broad expanse of his chest, down his arms- his bicep must be nearly the size of her head, she considered for an instant.  Muriel reacted in kind, his movements intensified a notch until he finally moved his hands to grab her by the hips.  Erin felt gooseflesh rise up her arms as his thumbs dug a little into her hip bones and his fingers pressed deeper into her flesh.

She held out for another second or two before she groaned thickly and pulled back just far enough to get her hands on his belt.  He jerked in surprise, making a short, quiet vocalization as he was, once again, taken off guard by her (not-so-surprising) impatient boldness.  “You started it,” she managed breathlessly, though her face was flushed deep crimson and she avoided his gaze.  He couldn’t really deny that her impatience and greedy hands usually lit a fire in him… he was unused to this, even still, and he’d never really experienced being wanted so much.  It was kind of terrifying frankly but it also made his body heat inordinately fast.

She dropped several belts on the grass and had both her hands in his fly a second later.  He made a rough noise and leaned into her hard as she tracked blunt nails lightly over hot flesh.  “Are…” Muriel pulled back for a second, obviously regretfully (which only made Erin’s desire to get on with it so much worse).  “Are you sure you don’t mind… here?”

Erin made something of a show looking to her left and then right before back up to Muriel’s flushed face.  “We’re just as alone here as the hut, right?  Besides, do you really want to trek all the way back?”  She did her best not to fixate on it but she knew both of them were the same kind of animal when it came to this… arrangement.  She ardently believed Muriel could have his choice of company with relatively little effort on his part and she was… a short, scruffy loudmouth who really lacked charisma (harsh, but fair, she thought almost smugly to herself).  Conversely she knew he saw her as some selfless, knightly thing that must have some modicum of physical attractiveness and it kind of blew her mind a little.  It was flattering but also embarrassing to think about so she usually did her best not to.  She looked back up at Muriel and gave his roughspun pants an impatient tug… “We walked like thirty minutes here.”

To her satisfaction he only mulled this over for a second or two before nodding in agreement.  Unable to mask her eagerness now, Erin pulled his fly open and had to fight to keep her gawking under control.  Muriel’s huge.  Of course he is.  He’s just a couple inches short of seven feet tall, he’s broadset and heavy to match.  Of course his cock warrants some gawking, even if you weren’t so set off by a strong, tightly muscled body just about twice as big as your own.  Unable to stop herself now, Erin made a strained little noise and planted her lips on his chest, stepping to turn him with her death grip on his pants.

He went easily (he’s very open to direction, after all) and eventually- she was too busy mouthing at him and he was too busy grabbing her to pay any real attention- she backed him into the heavy tree.  Without prompting, Muriel slid until he was sitting, long legs splayed haphazardly in front of him in the grass.  Erin wasn’t far behind, straddling his lap and still mouthing voraciously at a tract of muscular flesh somewhere at the lower portion of his chest.  She set her weight down a little heavily but Muriel didn’t seem to notice beyond pulling her in as tightly as he could.

When both her hands wrapped around his dick he grunted sharply and arched, turning his face slightly in an instinctive effort to mitigate the dark flush rising up his cheeks and ears.  She didn’t seem to notice… actually, she didn’t notice much of anything right then except for how her (normal-sized) hands fit around the shaft of his (impressively-sized) dick and her face went blotchy to match his.  Well beyond her normal shyness at this point, she groped him steadily while she leaned in to press her mouth to the dip of his collar.  She bit down- just barely hard enough to leave a faint red mark- and let out a satisfied breath when he jumped and gasped.

“Dammit,” he cursed under his breath, shifting his weight and rocking slightly into her assertive motions.  Erin could really only grunt out a noise that was vaguely questioning, at least until his hands found the waist of her trousers and pushed inside impatiently.  The welcome invasion broke her concentration as she enjoyed the size and feel of Muriel’s cock in her hands and she gasped unflatteringly as thick fingers slid home.

Even his fucking hands were damn big.  First one finger and then two pushed into her steadily, pulling and stretching with the kind of (infuriatingly) patient, meticulous care she’d come to expect from Muriel.  Impatient as she was, however, she knew that she couldn’t take him without preparation, the length was certainly a challenge on its own but he was also incredibly thick.

But that didn’t stop either of them.  She struggled to get fabric out of the way as Muriel attempted to position himself in a way that would be more comfortable for her.  Erin hovered for a second before placing a shockingly chaste kiss to his jawbone, planting on hand on his broad shoulder as she lowered herself.  It had taken a lot to assuage Muriel’s anxiety about his size in general, but especially when compared to hers and especially in moments like these.  It was a testament to their comfort with each other that he simply let his head thunk back against the tree while she slowly pushed down on him.

Erin had never been one for performance and she never made a show with unnecessary embellishment.  So when she finally managed to take Muriel to the hilt it was with only a few clipped breaths and small noises of consternation as she shifted to find the right angle.  The fit was, of course, excruciatingly tight but that sensation alone was enough to push her nearly to her end.  She was absolutely stuffed full and she could feel the impatient pulsing in his hot member through her whole core.  Unable to sit still for long, she began shifting slowly, trying to concentrate on building up to pace.  Muriel grunted under his breath and his eyes screwed shut but his hands slid slowly up her thighs to grab her hips with an unconcealed greediness that only encouraged her impatience.

The stretch was intense but Erin somehow found it was enough to make her shiver and flush, even if it was just starting to border on painful.  Muriel was content to let her lead but his breathing had gone ragged and he was eagerly pulling her in to kiss demandingly as she rode his lap with unabashed enthusiasm.  Muriel didn’t quite intend to but the feel of her wrapped so tightly around him made his hips bounce and while he fought to control himself, the kissing and hungry grabbing she was busying herself with was steadily undoing all of that.  

“I’m… gonna…” he gritted out, unable to stem the welling urge to warn her, still self conscious and still unable to fully quell his own anxieties.

Erin groaned lowly and hung her head, shaking perceptibly on him and taking his impressive length to the root.  “So come,” she gritted out with a transparent kind of bravado but Muriel’s open, panting mouth quirked up into something of an affectionate smirk for just a second- and then he was over.  And him being sent over with a low, husky noise sent Erin over a few seconds later, as his throbbing and pulsing and hot come all intensified the sensations absolutely battering her. 

Teasing: Apprentice x Julian

Day 26 - Teasing

Apprentice x Julian, light name calling, begging, orgasm denial

 

Praise: Muriel

Day 27 - Praise

Muriel, basically 100% just praise kink here.

 

Obdience: Apprentice x Muriel

Day 28 - Obedience

AFAB Apprentice x Muriel, light D/s, training, penetrative sex, topping from the bottom

 

It never fails to blow my mind how obedient Muriel is.  He’s not play-acting either.  He’s eager to explore intimate things with me but his innate passivity and his learned hesitancy are major inhibitors to him taking the initiative with sex… But when I tell him what to do he’s obviously relieved and the enthusiasm he follows up with never fails to take me off guard and ignite my arousal.  I take a possibly questionable amount of enjoyment in this however, as it’s damn hot and it usually prompts some amazing performances out of him.

So when I interrupt his chores one afternoon with a very blunt “Hey, come over here and kiss me,” he puts down the piece of iron he’s scouring rust stains out of and casts me a slightly quizzical look even as his face flushes darker.  But at just one more beckoning motion, he grumbles lowly in a poor attempt to cover his sudden self consciousness and climbs to his feet. And though he kind of makes a hassled face under the furious blush staining his cheeks he does come close enough to lean in and plant an entirely chaste kiss on my lips while he casually wipes his hands on his thighs in the same movement. 

Of course that’s not what I’m after so I grab the loose neck of his shirt and pull him in.  He goes willingly and once I deepen this kiss he reciprocates quickly and after another second his hands are gripping my shoulders tightly as he bends to accommodate my much smaller height.  He’s kissing assertively now and by all accounts it definitely looks like he started this and not me.  I give him a low, satisfied groan as his mouth works against mine- the best thing about Muriel’s tendency to do as he’s told is that he legitimately enjoys himself.  He’s kissing me deep and aggressive now, his tongue hot and surprisingly confident even as his hands tighten on me by degrees.  He’s easy to spin up too, which is always fun.

“Want you,” I manage, even as he kisses me deeply and I don’t really bother breaking apart to get the words out.  “ Now.

He makes a noise that sends something hot cascading through me.  His reactiveness is absolutely addictive… he’s shy and unsure of himself, yeah, but he wants so honestly and it's incredibly inflaming.  He’s still kissing me but his hands have gotten a little greedy, gripping me tight and pulling me in against him so that our bodies are nearly flush.  After a second in which he tries and fails to regain control of himself, he slides one of his hands under the hem of my shirt.  He’s still slow enough that I could bat his hand away if I wanted (of course I don’t) but he’s moving forward with some degree of confidence now that he knows what I want from him.

He shifts to press his lips to my throat, mouthing chastely for a second before he allows himself to scrape lightly with his teeth.  At the same time his hand cups my breast and he slowly rubs his thumb over a nipple and takes my sudden inhale of breath as a sign he’s permitted to continue.  I want to roll my eyes- we’re not… new to this, per se- but his other hand finally trailing down to the fixtures of my trousers distracts me enough to keep me from commenting.  His fingers make quick work of the laces and tentatively (the kissing and fondling is distracting as I tangle my hands in his hair) and his warm fingertips slide infuriatingly slowly below the coarse material.

I disentangle one hand to grab his wrist and push impatiently.  “ Hurry up ,” I groan into his mouth and the noise he lets out is hungry and obliging.

He pushes his fingers deeper and I grind down impatiently, a clipped gasp hissing through my teeth.  He slides two thick fingers over my clit and I can’t help but tighten my grip on him sharply.  “Yeah-” I try to give him some coherent encouragement but I just can’t get the rest of the words out.  He rubs gently, the pressure hard enough to derail my thoughts and the friction is so good .  I make a low noise and lean into him a bit, bringing the hand I had wrapped around his wrist higher up to grip his bicep.  “Sit down,” I manage, turning him slightly towards the bed.

“Sit?” he asks gruffly, looking me up and down.

I nod and gesture to the bed.  “Sit.  And get rid of your pants, you don’t need them.”  He obliges me readily, shoving his pants down his muscular thighs with unashamed, efficient movements even as he sinks into the mattress.  He’s hard as fuck, cock jutting stiffly and he’s more interested in my next move than being embarrassed about it and frankly, the idea is only adding more fuel to the fire burning in the lower regions of my guts.  

I really waste no time climbing into his lap, threading fingers through his hair before giving him a slight tug.  “You’re so cute like this,” I croon, using my other hand to pull his wrist closer to the apex of my legs again, telling him to prep me without saying it.  He reddens and avoids my eyes but his hand goes where I direct it.  He wastes no time (as usual) sliding fingers inside me and the pressure feels so good I have to shut my eyes for a second.  The price for Muriel’s compliance is lavishing praise on him, I’ve learned, so I don’t restrain myself from carding my fingers through his thick hair and grinding into his hand, where his palm is putting a delicious amount of pressure against my clit.  He always flushes in response to my exuberance but he’s so eager to please that I can’t help it.  I slide my other hand down his arm and over the back of his hand where he’s pressing up into me and I press against him tightly.

My grinding is slow and sinuous and my clit aches as I rub against his calloused palm.  “You’re- fuck - doing such a good job,” I say, and while I’m half teasing him, I’m also half serious.

His face is dark with flush but he can’t look at anything other than where his hand works between my legs with a kind of hunger in his eyes that makes my blood pound.  “I’m…  You’re doing all the work,” he manages after a second, his voice low and hungry, even if it’s slightly strangled by his usual lack of confidence.  

But of course, that won’t do and I’m not having any of it.  I grab his chin, not hard, but firmly enough to direct his gaze higher and I lean in closer.  “You’re doing a good job,” I repeat slowly, deliberately, staring straight into his face.  Then I pull him in for a kiss that’s slow and meticulously paced and chaste enough to highlight the obscenity of what I’m using his hand for.  He whines , his whole body tightening as he leans into it and it starts to get ravenous.

I can’t help but card my fingers through his hair affectionately but I’m ready for more and quickly losing patience.  I grab a handful and give him a tug- not painfully hard, just hard enough to pull his skull back slowly.  “Fuck me?” I ask needlessly, looking at his flustered but aroused face.  He nods agreeably through his furious blushing and his hands slide up my thighs to pull me further into his lap but I put a hand on one of his biceps to stop him.  “Ah… You on top, please.”

He pauses and the color to his cheeks intensifies, bleeding up to his ears and the look is so cute it's almost out of place with how explicitly turned on we both are.  After a moment he shifts and I already miss his hand but he repositions himself efficiently and I don’t have a ton of time to worry about that.  I sit at the edge of the bed, where he had just been and he stands over me for a second.  I can’t help but press my hand to his eager cock, jutting stiffly and even as it makes him blush harder and avert his face, he throbs against my touch.  I smile at that but then he’s too impatient to wait any longer.

He puts one large hand on my shoulder and slowly pushes me flat, moving to brace a knee against the bed as he carefully shifts to hover over me.  And of course, I love the sight of him on his back with his hair all fanned out and his intense eyes hooded, its fucking delicious after all.  But like this it's easier to appreciate the size of him and the way he looks when he’s so obviously turned on and it's overpowering his innate shyness.  He does a really good job of riding that delightful little border between adorable and mindmeltingly sexy.

I run my hands up his muscular arms as he braces himself over me, moving slowly and carefully because not only is he kind of meticulous like that but he’s also still afraid that he’s too big to top.  (I don’t care if he is, it's where I want him and its god damned hot but I try to keep a sane face about it).  But also because of his latent anxiety, he rarely lowers himself enough for me to wrap my arms around his neck so I have to settle for holding his arms as he gets his knees under my thighs.  I’m soaking wet for him but I don’t have enough brainpower to be remotely embarrassed by this, and I move eagerly with him as he shifts to pull my hips into his lap.

His every movement is cautious as he lines up.  It's obvious he’s very impatient to move on with things, but he’s always had better self control than me I think.  He makes an annoyed noise when he presses the slicked head of his dick up against me and I move to grind against him immediately and he takes a second to readjust the angle before pushing again.  “You’ll hurt yourself, slow down,” he admonishes breathlessly and I pointedly ignore him, breathing raggedly and trying to take more than he’s giving just this second.

“Hurry up,” I groan, digging the back of my skull into the blankets as I arch impatiently.  “Muriel, hurry up and fuck me .”

He groans but he can so rarely resist such a direct request.  He pushes harder and I arch to take him.  Calling it a tight fit would be a terrible understatement.  He’s pushing me to my absolute limits but god if it isn't exactly what my body’s screaming for.  He manages to hold for a few seconds but we both know that can’t last.  He shifts, slowly at first, and then starts to build up to speed.  I lose control of my reactions quickly, I just can’t help it.  I’m quick to start moving against him and by the time he’s fucking me outright, I’m already groaning more than I want and panting.  I hold on to him for dear life as his methodical pace falters and he starts going even harder.  He’s putting his whole body into it, too.

His arms are tight and solid braced just above my shoulders and his lower half works effortlessly to force his hips against mine, harder and harder until the pace is bruising and Muriel doesn’t really look like he’s all that aware of how rough he’s being.  I’m not about to complain as he’s fucking me absolutely senseless but this point, his cock driving up into me hard and deep and my whole body is aching for release even as I edge closer to it by the second.

I wrap my legs around his thick waist and that only seems to inspire him to fuck even harder, wrenching a loud moan out of me and a conversely husky noise out of him.  I can feel him swelling and pulsing against me and I know he’s not going to last much longer himself.  On his next deep thrust, my whole body seizes up automatically and my legs tighten against him hard enough to inhibit his movement.

The tension holds for just another instant but then I’m coming so hard I can barely tell when Muriel loses it and for a few long moments, we're just riding it out without really processing much extraneous information.  All I know is that by the time we’re both mostly still again, I’m exhausted and sore but undeniably sated.

Role Reversal: Apprentice x Muriel

Day 29 - Role Reversal

AFAB Apprentice tops Muriel by cockwarming him, he gets impatient and tops instead.  Cockwarming, penetrative sex, fucking on furniture, rough sex

 

I’m almost shocked he went through with it since it seemed like such an outlandish idea when I suggested it but here we were.  “Such a good boy,” I tease a little breathlessly as I finally sink down all the way and take his cock to the base.  The sensation is hard to describe.  I am full of him, his dick pressing deep into my body and pushing me to my absolute limit.  But he is a good boy because he’s doing exactly what I wanted (because I’m pretty sure this will put him right into that zone where he whines and begs for me to finish him and hells if that isn’t just the prettiest sight).  

His whole body is tight as a wire underneath me.  He’s sitting in one of the heavy chairs next to the table and I’m on top, facing away.  I can feel him shivering something fierce and his hands grip the table, putting his arms closely around me.  “Doing okay?  Think you can last a bit for me?” I manage to ask even though every sexed-up instinct in my stupid head is screaming at me to grind down on him.  My clit’s throbbing for attention at this point and I’m fighting not to tense up around him too much- though by his labored breathing I’m not sure if I’m entirely successful.

In front of me is a book I’d set out specifically for this activity- the idea was to keep myself distracted long enough to make this a worthwhile attempt and not a flash-in-the-pan kind of thing.  I grab it and drag it closer, trying not to move too much as Muriel’s got me filled to the absolute limit and any shifting at all makes his whole body ripple… Faintly, I’m hoping the book will offer me enough distraction but I’m not sure how easy it will be.  But I suppose the fun is in finding out.  

I can actually feel him twitching inside me, his huge cock making my breath come short no matter how I try to stay calm. Muriel shifts and then grips the chair beneath him to keep control of his hands and hopefully his desire to shift around.  He can’t really make a coherent answer so he just groans lowly through his clenched jaw, trying to control himself.  I resolutely open the book and do my best to distract myself, even as I throb needily around Muriel and wonder privately if this is even possible considering we’re both already about to lose it.

To my private relief, I can forget about the cock lodged deep in my guts after a few minutes of active, tenacious concentration.  The immense filling sensation is there but I can ignore it as I do my best to concentrate on spell formulae.  The urge to rut is powerful, at first, and I feverishly want to bounce my hips but I somehow manage to hold out until my brain is finally elsewhere.  The concentration takes effort though and I can’t say for sure how much time passes.  

But awareness of the situation settles back over slowly at the feel of Muriel shifting slightly inside me.  I tighten reactively before I can help myself and he lets out a strained grunt.  I realize now how heavy he’s breathing and how the muscles in his arms are straining as he tries to grip the table and anchor himself.  He moans roughly and shifts his hips again and this time the pronounced feeling makes me gasp, which sets him off even more.  “Hey, don’t move your hips,” I scold breathlessly.  “I can’t-” and I’m cut off by the moan his next movement causes, pouring out of my own mouth in a mix of heat and jumbled words.  It’s pure filth.  My vision hazes and my grip on my senses swims as he- now encouraged by my reaction- arches his hips up with markedly more force.  The scant amount he’s able to pull back only accentuates the fact that I am soaking wet for him, his bare thighs are slick with it and from the way he’s jerking and tensing almost spastically I can tell he’s about at his limit.

He pulls back and fucks forward again, in total it's maybe only a couple inches but it makes me see stars and my brain practically shuts down.  He does it again before I can tell him to get ahold of himself or rationalize my own actions.  My body overrides my brain and I automatically  collapse forward compliantly and lean low over the table top.  I can sense (rather than see) that he’s staring at the juncture of our bodies with an unflattering amount of intensity but frankly it only makes my arousal spin even hotter.

I’m trying to work the words out of my mouth though, to verbally give up on this game so I can take his dick like I’ve been dying to this whole time but words are complicated and right now, I’m feeling a little too lust drunk to manage it.  He gets the picture though.

He growls and pulls back, his hands snapping to my hips as he lunges forward to loom over me, his larger body dwarfing mine against the smooth surface.  When he crams his hips up against me and jerks me roughly into the table I moan again, unable to help the raw reaction.  The pace he sets is intense .  It's wild and unfettered and stronger than anything I think I’ve ever seen out of him.  He pounds forward, his fingers curled tight against my hipbones and in another second he’s absolutely railing me.  

I lose control of my voice inordinately fast.  The extended time on his dick has got me at a point where I’m taking him now with absolutely zero resistance, stretched and soaked and the feeling is novel and just a little embarrassing.  But my brain’s barely functioning, to be honest, and all my body wants to do is prostrate itself and keep its hips lifted for Muriel.

Muriel, on the other hand, has a very different set of drives commanding his actions.  He’s wrenching me back down on each thrust so hard the table screeches against the floor with his movements.  On his next overpowered thrust, the book slides off the side and lands on the stone floor with a clatter.  He’s pulling almost all the way out now on each thrust, wrenching back before fucking forward exuberantly.  The array of noises he’s making are almost as inflaming as his motions, if I’m being totally honest.  Deep, hungry noises that are wholly and entirely bent on getting his and when you think about how hesitant and shy he can be, the change is actually kind of heartwarming in a way.  Well, it would be if I wasn’t absolutely full of his dick and like two seconds from coming.

He fucks me through my first orgasm without a single iota of hesitation in his movements and honestly, it just forces me into my second almost immediately thereafter.  All my theatrics have a pronounced effect on him as well and his pace gets even rougher for a few instants before he slams deep and holds for a second.  He groans, low and ragged in the back of his throat and I’m sure his fingertips are digging bruises into me and I’m going to have to reassure him that it's not a big deal once he catches sight of them later.

But now, he’s not really in his right mind and can hear him labor for breath for just another instant before he comes and I can feel the swell and throb of his flesh and the hot rush of come he spills in me.  His hands are greedy and tight for a few more moments and he has enough braincells to lightly rub them against my sides while he murmurs something unintelligible against my spine when he lowers his sweaty head there.

In all, I’m not sure we really tested the boundaries of what we could have achieved with this little experiment but that only means more practice and frankly I can’t deny the way my body gives another interested throb at the prospect of trying again.

Grinding: Muriel

Day 30 - Grinding

Muriel, GN Apprentice, grinding, rutting, extended sessions

 

Biting: Muriel, Devil Muriel, Scourge of the South

Day 31 - Wild Card

Its author’s choice day!  How about some biting?

Muriel, Devil!Muriel, Scourge of the South, GN Apprentice, smothering, biting, bruises, mild bloodplay.

 

 

 

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Afterword

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