Ba'al lets out a sound of pain, and it hits Sinjir like a punch in the gut. Like all the twisted and furtive feelings he'd felt about beautiful young men crying from torment, like everything he's always tried to swallow away.
Damn.
He truly, honestly hates himself for, on some level, getting off on the punishment of those officers.
Ba'al pulls away, and Sinjir falls back onto the bed, curls over to his side to watch Ba'al, hand moving to his cock. He strokes it, slow, smearing the leaked semen, and watches the healing device. That thing's miraculous; it's also more than a little unnerving. He's never seen technology like that. He knows he broke those fingers -- he felt it. So how...?
He pushes it out of his immediate consideration. This isn't the time to investigate. He'll have the opportunity later.
"Hope I passed the test." His breath comes short, still. He shakes his head, but he's not refusing Ba'al's order. "Later," he breathes. "Later, once you've exhausted me, I want you to fuck me. Slow." Slow and agonizing. "No toys. Just you, in me, sloppy and stretched as I'll be. You like me playing the slut, don't you? But, a slut just for you." A buzz of endorphins is rising in him. He is soft, but he has this feeling that the device attached to his cock is going to fix that in short order. Just an instinct.
Ba'al can see, now, if he looks: that Sinjir has light scars along his back, lines long-since healed. From being beaten with a switch when he was a boy.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-22 02:58 am (UTC)Damn.
He truly, honestly hates himself for, on some level, getting off on the punishment of those officers.
Ba'al pulls away, and Sinjir falls back onto the bed, curls over to his side to watch Ba'al, hand moving to his cock. He strokes it, slow, smearing the leaked semen, and watches the healing device. That thing's miraculous; it's also more than a little unnerving. He's never seen technology like that. He knows he broke those fingers -- he felt it. So how...?
He pushes it out of his immediate consideration. This isn't the time to investigate. He'll have the opportunity later.
"Hope I passed the test." His breath comes short, still. He shakes his head, but he's not refusing Ba'al's order. "Later," he breathes. "Later, once you've exhausted me, I want you to fuck me. Slow." Slow and agonizing. "No toys. Just you, in me, sloppy and stretched as I'll be. You like me playing the slut, don't you? But, a slut just for you." A buzz of endorphins is rising in him. He is soft, but he has this feeling that the device attached to his cock is going to fix that in short order. Just an instinct.
Ba'al can see, now, if he looks: that Sinjir has light scars along his back, lines long-since healed. From being beaten with a switch when he was a boy.