for drunk_ish

[baals]

It wasn't easy to establish himself in an entirely different galaxy. He spent years simply learning of the worlds, factions, languages and cultures. It was dull work but important if he was to be successful. This galaxy was already at war when he found himself marooned here. War breeds opportunity.

Near the war's end, he took his opportunity. He started out in the distant planets, furthest from the New Republic's reach. The planet he chose to make his home still had some Empire holdouts clinging desperately to power. They were quickly dealt with with an added bonus of gaining the praise and trust of this little world. In turn, he urged them to govern themselves but he would gladly solve disputes and offer advice. On the surface, his new little world ran itself. Under the surface he controlled everything else. Call it the cleanest criminal empire.

He receded from view, becoming more of a story. It's oh so easy to construct a Godly persona after all. He began posing as he own right hand man. 'Ba'al' was rarely seen and often cloaked. Meanwhile, Mister Haddad saw to running things.

Today, Mister Haddad is over-seeing the running of one of the higher class bars. He's there because of reports of a rival crime faction attempting to horn in. Sending their men in to cause disturbances and damage.

He mingles with the patrons, subtly keeping watch. Keeping an air of important but not too important about himself.

If they try something today, he's ready to sent a message.

Comments

[drunk_ish]

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.

[baals]

Ba'al raises a brow at that. He almost wants to question it, that Sinjir is trying to tell him what he wants to hear. His expression says he's skeptical and he makes no effort to hide it. He considers it as he stretches his healed hand. "It certainly an appealing prospect. Provided you're still conscious by then," he says, half joking. "I suppose I could revive you if that happens."

He holds out his hand with the device, it glows then the one on Sinjir's cock glows. It's not quite painful, more like a sudden rush of energy. It won't start getting uncomfortable until he's hard again. The light fades from the hand device but the one on his cock remains on. Ba'al's hand lightly traces one of the thin scars. "Who is responsible for these?" he asks with an edge to his voice. It's more like he's asking Sinjir who he needs to kill.

[drunk_ish]

He arches up with a sharp gasp, moaning and digging his fingers into the blankets on the bed. What a rush, he thinks, dizzily -- vitality streaming into him, reviving all that was just exhausted, and changing the presence of the spheres inside him from one of vague pain to one that's intensely erotic again.

"If I'm unconscious," he says, "or half-conscious," and he shivers in delicious pleasure, "consider yourself as having permission."

And that's dangerous. Extraordinarily. But he likes the idea of Ba'al manipulating him, using him even then. Passing in and out of consciousness with Ba'al inside him.

"What?" Cranes his neck. "Oh," a shake of his head, "it's not, it's really not sexy to talk about my mother caning me. Could we do that another time?"

[baals]

"That's something of a risk, isn't it? You will be completely helpless." He knows Sinjir thought of this. As much fun as he's having the stakes are not lost on him. "Or are you truly that desperate for something for yourself? You don't have to answer. I'm merely curious."

He settles on the bed to watch him. The jewel glows again, this time the device pushes toward painful. "I'd like to keep you," he admits with a sign, "But you may prove too dangerous. Not intentionally so."

He shouldn't even be considering this. He shakes his head, annoyed with the thought. "Ah, well." Best to move on. Just to keep Sinjir from questioning that too much, he wraps his hand around his dick. He squeezes just enough to feel the rod inside. His thumb and fore finger toy with the trapped head of his dick.

[drunk_ish]

The way Sinjir moans goes strained and softer. He aches for the pain maybe even more than he aches for the pleasure: it feels so good to let someone else have control of his body. He squirms, hands clenched into fists, then unclenched as he remembers that he doesn't have to restrain himself from touching himself.

But Ba'al beats him (heh, beats him) to it.

Oh, god -- he loves this. He's scared, more than anything, of what Ba'al will do when he realizes how much Sinjir loves this. It's a much deeper vulnerability than Sinjir had realized.

"I am dangerous." He spreads himself under Ba'al's hands. "So are you." Firm eye contact, daring and almost belligerent.

[baals]

"You have no idea," Ba'al returns sharply. He may have just squeezed harder than necessary to punctuate it. It's oh so tempting to elaborate but he reminds himself he's most likely the last Goa'uld in the universe. He can't afford anyone knowing too much.

He eases up his grip on his cock, only to make the device glow brighter. The rod inside him might almost seem to vibrate.

Meanwhile, his other hand travels up Sinjir's body. His hand lingers near is neck, he could so easily crush the life out of him and Sinjir has no idea. He pushes that thought aside and focuses on something else. "Pain seems to have a greater effect on you," he comments. "Is it guilt or something more complicated?"

[drunk_ish]

Tips his chin up, as Ba'al's hand moves, baring his throat. Choking was not one of the limits Sinjir set at the beginning of this session. Therefore, it is not out of the question.

His face creases, and he starts letting out gasps, noises of pain. A high whimper. This does almost hurt, a sensation like a vibration through the center of his cock, and the wide stretch inside of him, which Sinjir swears could make him come again on its own. He feels so pulled apart, and, in some contradictory way, the pain hits right at the core of him, where the pleasure comes from. It makes him harder.

He starts to leak -- or he should be leaking, but the plug keeps the precum inside him. He curls over onto his stomach, knees braced apart like he's being fucked, his hips pressing hard against the bed as he muffles those shivery sounds in the blanket.

"I don't know," he gasps.

[baals]

"I believe you," Ba'al responds, not bothering to hide his amusement at Sinjir's new position.

Though still clothed, Ba'al slips in next to him and pulls him on to his side so his back is pressed up against his chest. He keeps one arm around his chest while the other feels for the cord to the beads. He tugs on it lightly, not trying to pull it out just yet.

The hand at Sinjir's chest moves up to wrap around this throat. He's mostly doing it to keep him from muffling himself in the blanket. He's not actively trying to choke him, but if Sinjir were to struggle he could end up cutting off his own air.

He tugs again on the cord. "Shall I remove them now or later?"

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir struggles, a little. If he really wanted to get away from Ba'al, he would struggle much more efficiently and with very targeted strikes; most of what he does right now is arch his spine against Ba'al's grip, so that his hips grind back against Ba'al and Ba'al's grip digs into his throat.

"Now." Because then Ba'al could fist him, could break out a fucking machine, could just make Sinjir beg to fill the emptiness, and all of those sound good.

[baals]

Ba'al toys with the cord and taking his sweet time with pulling them out. He does consider pulling them all at once but he's not quite sure Sinjir's body can take it. Perhaps after he knows his body better.

He tightens his arm around him, to still Sinjir's not-really struggles. He allows his true strength to be felt, rather, enough to let Sinjir feel he's uncommonly strong for his frame.

A firm tug to pull out the first of the over-sized beads. "Breathe," Ba'al reminds him before meticulously pulling them out of him one by one.

[drunk_ish]

The needy sounds he makes get higher and breathier, rhythmic; he clutches hard at Ba'al, and then, somehow, unexpectedly, his hips snap up and he comes again, hard, the muscle shivers pushing the largest one the rest of the way out.

The climax feels like a full-body impact more than a buildup of pleasure, and leaves him feeling weak as a kitten. He twists his head to the side and buries the whimpering sound against Ba'al's neck, rough with the stubble of his beard.

The others draw out of him easier, leave him tensing and gasping for breath, but he's too pliant for it to be difficult.

[baals]

Admittedly, Ba'al is surprised Sinjir came with such force. He hadn't anticipated that strong of a response. It's a nice surprise and one that makes him chuckle warmly. "Quite the impressive response," he says in praise.

Curiously, Ba'al's fingers drift to Sinjir's ass. He lightly touches the stretched muscles. Along with simply enjoying touching him, he's also checking for any broken skin.

"I don't usually allow those I've only recently met to feel me but, for you, I'll make an exception." He's far harder than he'd thought he'd be, a pleasant surprise in itself. "Provided you're still interested," Ba'al adds, part joke part just liking to hear someone wants him to fuck them.

[drunk_ish]

The sound that Sinjir makes is weak, enough like a little mewl that it's going to probably embarrass him later. Right now, he's a little too knocked flat to be embarrassed by much of anything. A few minutes; give him a few minutes, and he'll be back to something resembling coherence.

Oh, he's going to be sore after this. Unless Ba'al's little device fixes soreness, too...? Probably does. Great sex, no physical consequences.

He's still trying to catch his breath.

"Yes," he exhales.

[baals]

Sinjir seems pliant enough in this state that Ba'al shifts him and himself into a better position. He props himself up against the headboard then pulls Sinjir into his lap. There's a hiss of breath from Ba'al when he frees his erection, still remaining clothed. He draws in a breath then slowly releases it as he presses himself into Sinjir.

For a second, his mind is blissfully silent and clear. As is his host's. Just sensation.

"I would like to keep you," he says against the back of Sinjir's neck.

[drunk_ish]

He's reminded of Ba'al's strength, again; Sinjir can't do much to assist him with the movement, though he's not dead weight. He can move; just, when he tries to hold himself up, his muscles tremble.

But he settles back, slow arc of his spine molding to the way Ba'al holds him. Ba'al enters him, and Sinjir surprises himself by not being completely slick and loose, but by still having some tightness left in him. Either that or Ba'al is larger than Sinjir would have thought.

He surprises himself one other way, too: the feeling of being penetrated by someone, not something, makes his body do its best to stir with renewed arousal, makes his heart pound. His thighs are spread, straddling Ba'al's, his cock half-erect and wet and still penetrated by the heavy sound that feels like it pierces to the core of him. Sinjir, naked, and Ba'al clothed, and Sinjir deliciously used, and coddled, and kept.

A moan escapes him, and his hips twitch down, driving Ba'al deeper. Ba'al wants to keep Sinjir -- Sinjir wants to be kept. A hissed in gasp -- he can't actually get hard again so soon, not without -- "The device," he breathes. "Again?" He will plead, if that's what Ba'al wants. Or he will relent and be used, without his own pleasure. He wouldn't object to that either.

[baals]

Of course, Ba'al's ego would like to believe he is very large, whether that's true or not Sinjir might find out later. Considering how much he's grown on Ba'al that seems very lightly.

A little choked sound comes out of Ba'al when Sinjir twitches his hips. Despite his desire to be in control, it's the little things that he can't control that get to him. He bucks his hips sharply in response and as a not-subtle-at-all signal that he liked that.

"Of course," he says as if he was merely waiting for Sinjir to suggest it. He encourages Sinjir to spread is his legs further apart with one hand running on the inside of his thigh. His other arm he loops under Sinjir's leg, pushing it up so he can get a better angle. The device hums to life seconds later, glowing brightly. He could have let it do a slow build-up but... this is more fun. Especially when he rocks his hips to grind against his prostate right as the device activates. He turns it off, he hopes, before Sinjir ends up coming again. But if he misjudged the timing, he'll just have to keep the device on and bring him back up slowly this time.

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir, for a good three seconds afterwards, is pretty sure that he's swallowed his tongue. The way he so thoroughly choked was probably the only thing that kept him from screaming at the sensation, which was akin to.... no, there was nothing that was akin to. He'd felt like half his body was set on fire, but in a good way.

He breathes in like he's fallen thirty meters and got the breath knocked out of him on impact -- deep and shuddering breathing, trailing off into whimpering. It takes him another ten seconds or so to determine that he didn't, in fact, come from that stimulation, though it was a near thing. No, he's hard as durasteel and so very ready to keep going.

His vision is thoroughly blurry, and for a moment Sinjir is pretty sure it knocked his cornea out of whack, but then he blinks and feels tears spill over. Tears of sensation, not of sadness or pain. Good tears.

"Bastard," he curses, at Ba'al.

[baals]

While Ba'al didn't completely stop fucking him, he did slow down so he could enjoy Sinjir's reactions. "This was your wish," Ba'al reminds him against his ear, with some amusement in his voice. He's actually a little breathless, not that he would admit he almost came just then.

"You perform quite well," he adds in praise while grinding his hips against him. "Perhaps..." he wonders aloud. His fingers drifting to Sinjir's cock. He lightly plays his fingers over the trapped flesh. "You should be allowed the rare honor of penetrating me." His own dick twitches within Sinjir at the idea.

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir's started to get used to the sensation of having his cock penetrated by the sound. In fact, it feels a little like it's always been that way, that he's always been stretched and wrapped tight, pierced to the root of him.

Ba'al grinds against him, a slight shift in angle, and this makes him feel -- it's not the reality, he knows, there's long centimeters separating them -- but it makes him feel like Ba'al's cock is grinding right into the base of the sound, his prostate crushed between. It makes him sort of convulse, and he lets out a sob of sensation. Gods, any one of these sensations would have been enough for a truly memorable kinky encounter, but Ba'al has expertly layered them on top of one another, until Sinjir is an absolute mess.

He manages to breathe. And, of course, as soon as he has even a fraction of the breath necessary, he taunts the man who currently is inside him, who is stronger than him and who has control of the room's healing device, who holds all of Sinjir's potential pleasures in his hand like strings.

"You," manages Sinjir, sing-song, "liiiiike me. You like me," and, stars, Sinjir is an idiot, but idiocy is fun and maybe Ba'al will punish him for it. That would be nice.

[baals]

Sinjir is lucky Ba'al finds that amusing and they're behind closed doors. It crosses his mind to threaten to kill him but there's no reason to. He knew he'd run his mouth the whole time.

Ba'al actually chuckles a little. "I do," he admits. "Keep my attention and that will not change." He shifts, putting his hands on Sinjir's hips so he shifts with him, and pushes him forward on the bed. Then he really starts to fuck him. He had planned just to sit back and leisurely fuck him but the sing-song gloating deserves a response. He let's go of holding anything back and aggressively pounds into him. His focus clearly shifted to what feels good to him and getting his own gratification. He starts to growl with each thrust, pushing in hard and deep then drawing back slow.

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir half-wishes that he'd been more open to gags. If he were gagged, right now, he could scream, he could moan, he could make all the noise that he truly, honestly wants to make, and it would be held back. It would be restrained. It would be easier.

But the fact that there's no gag isn't going to stop him. He's just too far gone for that. Something just breaks, breaks through, and the first couple hard thrusts earn a shout. Then he's -- he's moaning, giving little yelps and jagged cries, overwhelmed and pinned open and used, hands moving up to brace himself. It's good, it's so good.

[baals]

It's a good thing Ba'al finds all the noise Sinjir is making extremely gratifying. The sounds he makes seem almost a whisper in comparison. He really begins to lean all his weight into him as he gets close. When he finally comes, his entire body shudders with it. He grips Sinjir's hips forcefully, keeping them locked together until he finishes.

He eases off a few moments later and rolls Sinjir over. His hands go to the device still locked over his dick. He begins to remove it but leaves the rod for last. That he wants toy with. He has a half second of considering removing it with his mouth but he'll save that for another time. Instead he draws it back for a few short thrusts before slowly, very slowly, letting it glide free.

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir is high, drunk on Ba'al's pleasure. Feels almost as good as another climax himself, the rush of heat inside him, as he takes it, takes all of it. He is marked, he thinks, dizzily; Ba'al has marked him, in some more-than-physical way.

He's still so, so hard when Ba'al touches the device, and he twitches up, gasping sharp. He's nonverbal, stretched out so far he could snap, every muscle in his body wrung out halfway to exhaustion. He's trembling; he half-curls, whimpering as Ba'al draws back the rod, sinks it back in, draws it out. It glides free wet, leaving a long string of semen that breaks, dripping back onto Sinjir's cock, his belly. He shudders, settling back down, breathing sharp.

"I need," he tries, and he shifts up, reaching out to Ba'al. Hooks his fingers around Ba'al's neck and kisses him, shaky but slow and wet and deep. "I need," he breathes, "I don't know," uncertain, cutting himself off with another desperate, aching kiss. If he was trying, he could resist torture forever, but here, he's let himself be broken. He shouldn't have, but he did.

[baals]

The kiss was a little unexpected, if only because he expected Sinjir to be too out of it to initiate anything. Ba'al's content to let Sinjir lead the kiss. After all being too forceful in return could accidentally break Sinjir in the wrong ways. He's not a hundred percent certain where his most fragile pieces are.

"Hm, well, do tell me when you think of it," Ba'al says between kisses. As tempting as it is to keep going right there, he does pull away after a minute. "You need to be cleaned up. There's a bath chamber. Get up or I'll carry you. I don't care which."
The attached bath chamber is mostly tub but it has everything of a proper bathroom. And yes, he would pick up Sinjir, throw him over his shoulder then dump him in the tub.

[drunk_ish]

"No," he mumbles, not really objecting to the bath in particular, but the idea of movement or effort in general. He pulls Ba'al back down, and just lingers in the kiss, just breathes with it. Slow goosebumps rising on his skin, sweat starting to dry and chill.