[He tries to spit it out, he tries to keep from swallowing but it only chokes him, he ends up swallowing most of it just to try to breathe, and the rest gets over his face and hair and the ivory sheets, staining everything. It really is a good contrast.]
[More importantly Sion's struggles change a bit as the drugs and alcohol just intensify in his system. For a few moments he's dazed, catching his breath from the forced drinking, but after that the flush tinges his skin up to his ears, his eyes go dark, pupils blown with arousal, his entire body feels too hot, his skin too tight, the touch of his own clothes a painful turn on. He makes a noise that he means to be an angry protest, but it's mostly just a lewd moan, his back arching. It's too much, too intense, it's really likely no one should drink all of the drug and wine Ariel just gave him, but he's still trying to hold onto his mind through the intense, burning need.]
[He tosses the bottle on the floor when he's done with it, instead sliding his hands into the draping folds of Sion's clothes, running his fingers gently up his chest and watching his face.]
This is much better, hmm? I'll summon more if you don't think you've had enough.
[He gasps and shivers at the touch, arching into it and then shuddering in revulsion at his own intense reaction. No no no no no no he doesn't want this. But there's an overwhelming need and disorientation, his entire body aches with want, and he's short of breath and dizzy and drugged to his eyeballs and whatever coherence he can grasp makes him want to cry.]
No...
[Even that protest is close to breathless and lewd.]
[He jolts, curls a little, gasping like he's been teased far more than just the few touches. It's too much, his skin's on fire and he feels, so good, and it hurts, it's too much. Too much too much too much. He can't think, but he has to.]
Please...
[The plea escapes him before he can bite his own tongue, eyes burning. Pain won't make him beg but he's barely got a grip on himself with the drug and alcohol mixing in his system.]
[There it is. He's found a better angle, a way to put another crack in Sion's stubbornness and drive a wedge into it. He smiles, falsely pleasant, visibly aroused and self-satisfied, and slides his hands lower, but not quit low enough.]
Please what, Sion? You have to be clear or I'll think you want to stay in this state for me.
[He shakes his head, jaw clenching as he bites his tongue. God he can't think clearly but he can hold on to not wanting to beg. He thinks he can hold on to that. Like this he's not sure. He's never felt so incredibly out of control of his own actions. He's been aroused against his will before but this is a different level, every touch is a sweet torture he wants, needs to arch into. It's not something he has skill or ability to resist like he can pain, it's terrifying but feels too good, why would he want to resist? It's awful and pleasurable and his mind is fuzzy and he feels so drunk and high and pleasant and he could get addicted to a feeling like this, the way he has to alcohol and weed, and that scares whatever part of him is still rational to tears even as he moans softly. His expression is horror but hazed over and flushed, so he looks more wanton than anything. No one could say he doesn't look into it, just from the noises he makes, the way he strains for more touch.]
[He trails over Sion's hips, unfastening his pants and dragging the cloth down, just out of the way so he can feel up his inner thighs with light teases.]
I can make this your life. You'd be mad with need every waking moment, but I'd only let you be satisfied at my command. There's nothing else you need to think about. You exist now only for my whim.
[He cries out and strains into Ariel's touch, already painfully hard, leaking precum and flushing in shame and fury and want.]
[He still has some sense of self under the maddening desire and dizziness. It's painful, and it feels so good, and he wants satisfaction and he wants Ariel to stop touching him and never stop and he feels sick. Not sure if that's from the drugs and wine or just everything else.]
No...
[Denial, rejection, he doesn't have power here, but he refuses to accept it, he won't repeat that "please". Not as long as he can think a little straight. He's stubborn, he won't. He won't he won't he won't he won't, he'll cling to that out of spite if he has to. He can barely form words.]
Right, exactly. That's what you're here for. And since you haven't clarified otherwise, I'll assume you agree to that plan. We'll see how long you can handle it.
[He laughs, low and content, running one fingertip along the shaft of Sion's cock, stopping to stand still at the tip for a second or two, just watching him. He's blocking him with his magic, so he can't actually orgasm no matter how good it feels. And after that pause he takes his fingers back and presses them inside him, rough but not too much so, knowing the pain won't be nearly enough to detract.]
[He panics a little at the pleasure. With his arms bound he can't push at Ariel but he strains against the magic, voice rough and strained and dripping with desire. He's genuinely afraid of this. He can take pain, he really knows how to take pain, but this is something else and he doesn't know how to defend against wanting more. How do you ignore something that feels so good when your body is overdosed on drugs and you can barely think?]
Stop stop--
[He wants to beg and stops there, arching against Ariel's touch, the intrusion of his fingers, god, he'll take being fucked if he can come, but he doesn't think Ariel's that kind.]
[Of course he's not. The whole point is to drive Sion to his limits and past them, if Ariel wants to. So he's cruelly attentive, curling his fingers against Sion's prostate and stretching him just so.]
[God it feels good, better than good, every touch makes him feel like he's going to come and he can't.]
[He can't and it's beyond frustrating, and he doesn't know if he can handle this, this isn't torture he's used to. He makes a choked noise and bites his lip, until it bleeds, and even that doesn't help at all, can't muffle his extremely wanton moans.]
[He keeps it up, steadily tormenting him, and with his free hand gently brushes over all the sensitive areas of Sion's thighs and hips. It's fun. This kind of torture is just as good as taking him apart.]
[He's panting and whining, twitching desperately with every touch. He doesn't know how to handle being this sensitive and it's too much, and he hates not having this control of himself. Yes, yes he wants, he wants to be fucked, or for Ariel to get him off, he just wants the over-sensitive painpleasure to come to some kind of conclusion, he needs to come more badly than he ever has and he's scared of how it feels so intoxicating.]
[Ariel presses his elbow against Sion's thigh, restricting his squirming somewhat as he continues with both hands, patient, waiting to see whether Sion will crumble.]
[He sobs, pleasured and wanting and drugged and out of it, intoxicated to the point of the room spinning, and he vaguely hopes he does pass out. He won't. He won't won't won't.... It's hard to concentrate at all. He feels too hot and his skin is burning and he turns his head against the sheets, cold and wet with wine, but the scent of it hardly helps the dizzy way his head spins.]
Ah...
[He won't... Talk. He can make noise but he's afraid of words. He doesn't know what pleas will fall out right now, he doesn't want to know, he just wants, badly, for Ariel to get him off. And it's humiliating, in the part of him that can register that and not just the pure desire. And then there's the desire to give in and find sweet release by asking and he hates that more.]
[His fingers inside Sion give another curl, relentless, and he swirls his thumb over the head of his cock at the same time, humming, perfectly happy where he is. He doesn't mind giving pleasure. It's not servicing when he's in control, pushing someone else, sadistically manipulating another's body the way he wants it. Sion's voice is beautiful, his desperate face is beautiful, and Ariel's oh so glad he brought him home.]
I won't act without your open desire, Sion. What is it you want? I can see it on your pretty face.
[He arches almost off the bed, only his heels and shoulders digging in, toes curling, but he can't, can't, he can't come and it's so much and his vision is sort of spotty and he can't tell up from down just that he wants so badly to have more than fingers inside him, more than a hand around him, he wants this to end, he could beg for it, he needs it, his body is nothing but over-sensitive nerves and every touch is torture.]
[He's been through torture, why is this worse...? Is it because he's drugged? Is it the alcohol? Having less control of his senses is certainly not helping, that it's pleasurable is not helping, but he doesn't want to give in. He's crying rather openly at the struggle within himself, frustrated and glaring with eyes that won't focus, more black than purple until the pupil just shifts, blooming into a geometric sakura pattern and his breathing evens a little. No, it doesn't really change what's happening to his body, that he's pushed well beyond tolerance, but he has a part of him that can rationalize clearly through the complete haze of lust and pleasure and drugs. He's been through far more dire, he won't let this break him.]
I'm going to kill you some day.
[It's oddly calm, a little slurred and breathy but strangely clear and unhysteric, he's trying to center himself around this calm feeling. No, he can't purge himself of drugs or alcohol, can't fight Ariel's magic, but he can try to remain himself through it, he might not be in Di[e]ce but he's a fucking bishop and Gara would laugh if he let this win over him.]
[He's impressed, honestly. He wonders what that is, that power that makes Sion grounded and strong and makes his eyes look so interestingly beautiful. He doesn't know, but for now he concedes that he'll take more than a day to break and relents, laughing and ceasing that torture for a moment to push him down instead, a hand flat against his chest while the other closes on his throat.]
I'm glad you're so strong, you know. It's people like you I like the most.
[It's still too sensitive, every place Ariel touches feels amazing and too much, his chest burns just at the touch of his palm and his neck feels a thousand times more sensitive, too much. But he tries to take a deep breath, he can guess he'll be choked a bit, he wants to breathe, he can't fight his own fears and traumas and this current situation when he can't even fight. He just has to survive for now. Survive until he can kill this person--he supposes Ariel would be attractive, if he didn't hate him. It doesn't really help. It takes every bit of his will to stay focused, and he can't help but flinch, glaring, hot and turned on and barely managing to keep himself together despite his moment of focus.]
I will. You're not the worst thing I've met, I've battled gods and monsters that would devour your world, you're just the second-most persistent evil I've encountered.
[He has to concede that much. He's never met a person more stubborn, and if it weren't for the person, he could even admire that.]
Only the second? Well, I suppose I'll take that compliment.
[Take it and reward it by, yes, choking Sion, of course, all while chipper and relaxed. With his regained youth his hands are still a little small, thin, unused to physical work, but he has the strength of someone with no mental walls between himself and violence.]
[He chokes, old trauma making this worse, the drugs making it harder to focus and the sensations a lot to deal with. Focus. Focus. Focus. It's terrifying but he's been through worse, survived worse. The idea of slitting Ariel's throat is nice...]
M-maybe it'll follow me here... And you can see for yourself.
[His voice is hoarse and breathy, and he doesn't say more, trying to gasp for air.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[More importantly Sion's struggles change a bit as the drugs and alcohol just intensify in his system. For a few moments he's dazed, catching his breath from the forced drinking, but after that the flush tinges his skin up to his ears, his eyes go dark, pupils blown with arousal, his entire body feels too hot, his skin too tight, the touch of his own clothes a painful turn on. He makes a noise that he means to be an angry protest, but it's mostly just a lewd moan, his back arching. It's too much, too intense, it's really likely no one should drink all of the drug and wine Ariel just gave him, but he's still trying to hold onto his mind through the intense, burning need.]
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[He tosses the bottle on the floor when he's done with it, instead sliding his hands into the draping folds of Sion's clothes, running his fingers gently up his chest and watching his face.]
This is much better, hmm? I'll summon more if you don't think you've had enough.
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No...
[Even that protest is close to breathless and lewd.]
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[He flicks his thumbs over Sion's nipples, pinching lightly, vastly enjoying watching him squirm.]
You know, I could just keep you like this. You are beautiful out of your own control.
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Please...
[The plea escapes him before he can bite his own tongue, eyes burning. Pain won't make him beg but he's barely got a grip on himself with the drug and alcohol mixing in his system.]
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[There it is. He's found a better angle, a way to put another crack in Sion's stubbornness and drive a wedge into it. He smiles, falsely pleasant, visibly aroused and self-satisfied, and slides his hands lower, but not quit low enough.]
Please what, Sion? You have to be clear or I'll think you want to stay in this state for me.
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[He trails over Sion's hips, unfastening his pants and dragging the cloth down, just out of the way so he can feel up his inner thighs with light teases.]
I can make this your life. You'd be mad with need every waking moment, but I'd only let you be satisfied at my command. There's nothing else you need to think about. You exist now only for my whim.
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[He still has some sense of self under the maddening desire and dizziness. It's painful, and it feels so good, and he wants satisfaction and he wants Ariel to stop touching him and never stop and he feels sick. Not sure if that's from the drugs and wine or just everything else.]
No...
[Denial, rejection, he doesn't have power here, but he refuses to accept it, he won't repeat that "please". Not as long as he can think a little straight. He's stubborn, he won't. He won't he won't he won't he won't, he'll cling to that out of spite if he has to. He can barely form words.]
Fuck you...
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[He laughs, low and content, running one fingertip along the shaft of Sion's cock, stopping to stand still at the tip for a second or two, just watching him. He's blocking him with his magic, so he can't actually orgasm no matter how good it feels. And after that pause he takes his fingers back and presses them inside him, rough but not too much so, knowing the pain won't be nearly enough to detract.]
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[He panics a little at the pleasure. With his arms bound he can't push at Ariel but he strains against the magic, voice rough and strained and dripping with desire. He's genuinely afraid of this. He can take pain, he really knows how to take pain, but this is something else and he doesn't know how to defend against wanting more. How do you ignore something that feels so good when your body is overdosed on drugs and you can barely think?]
Stop stop--
[He wants to beg and stops there, arching against Ariel's touch, the intrusion of his fingers, god, he'll take being fucked if he can come, but he doesn't think Ariel's that kind.]
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[Of course he's not. The whole point is to drive Sion to his limits and past them, if Ariel wants to. So he's cruelly attentive, curling his fingers against Sion's prostate and stretching him just so.]
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[He can't and it's beyond frustrating, and he doesn't know if he can handle this, this isn't torture he's used to. He makes a choked noise and bites his lip, until it bleeds, and even that doesn't help at all, can't muffle his extremely wanton moans.]
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You want it, don't you?
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Stop it, stop it stop it stop it....
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[For now he can keep touching him, finally giving in to stroke his cock.]
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Who would--
[He can't even finish the sentence, trying to lift and twist his hips away, too good, too much, it needs to, if he can't come, it needs to stop.]
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[Ariel presses his elbow against Sion's thigh, restricting his squirming somewhat as he continues with both hands, patient, waiting to see whether Sion will crumble.]
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Ah...
[He won't... Talk. He can make noise but he's afraid of words. He doesn't know what pleas will fall out right now, he doesn't want to know, he just wants, badly, for Ariel to get him off. And it's humiliating, in the part of him that can register that and not just the pure desire. And then there's the desire to give in and find sweet release by asking and he hates that more.]
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I won't act without your open desire, Sion. What is it you want? I can see it on your pretty face.
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[He arches almost off the bed, only his heels and shoulders digging in, toes curling, but he can't, can't, he can't come and it's so much and his vision is sort of spotty and he can't tell up from down just that he wants so badly to have more than fingers inside him, more than a hand around him, he wants this to end, he could beg for it, he needs it, his body is nothing but over-sensitive nerves and every touch is torture.]
[He's been through torture, why is this worse...? Is it because he's drugged? Is it the alcohol? Having less control of his senses is certainly not helping, that it's pleasurable is not helping, but he doesn't want to give in. He's crying rather openly at the struggle within himself, frustrated and glaring with eyes that won't focus, more black than purple until the pupil just shifts, blooming into a geometric sakura pattern and his breathing evens a little. No, it doesn't really change what's happening to his body, that he's pushed well beyond tolerance, but he has a part of him that can rationalize clearly through the complete haze of lust and pleasure and drugs. He's been through far more dire, he won't let this break him.]
I'm going to kill you some day.
[It's oddly calm, a little slurred and breathy but strangely clear and unhysteric, he's trying to center himself around this calm feeling. No, he can't purge himself of drugs or alcohol, can't fight Ariel's magic, but he can try to remain himself through it, he might not be in Di[e]ce but he's a fucking bishop and Gara would laugh if he let this win over him.]
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[He's impressed, honestly. He wonders what that is, that power that makes Sion grounded and strong and makes his eyes look so interestingly beautiful. He doesn't know, but for now he concedes that he'll take more than a day to break and relents, laughing and ceasing that torture for a moment to push him down instead, a hand flat against his chest while the other closes on his throat.]
I'm glad you're so strong, you know. It's people like you I like the most.
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I will. You're not the worst thing I've met, I've battled gods and monsters that would devour your world, you're just the second-most persistent evil I've encountered.
[He has to concede that much. He's never met a person more stubborn, and if it weren't for the person, he could even admire that.]
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[Take it and reward it by, yes, choking Sion, of course, all while chipper and relaxed. With his regained youth his hands are still a little small, thin, unused to physical work, but he has the strength of someone with no mental walls between himself and violence.]
Did that other one defeat you too, I wonder?
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M-maybe it'll follow me here... And you can see for yourself.
[His voice is hoarse and breathy, and he doesn't say more, trying to gasp for air.]
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